[Page] [Page] ALL THE WORKES OF IOHN TAYLOR THE WATER-POET Being 63 in Number COLLECTED INTO ONE VOLUM By the Author With Sundry new Additions, Corrected, Reuised, and newly IMPRINTED. 1630.

[Page] [Page]ALL THE WORKES OF IOHN TAYLOR THE WATER-POET.

Beeing Sixty and three in Number.

Collected into one Volume by the AVTHOR: VVith sundry new Additions, corrected, reuised, and newly Imprinted, 1630.

AT LONDON, Printed by J.B. for IAMES BOLER; at the signe of the Marigold in Pauls Churchyard, 1630.

To the Right Honoura­BLE THE LORD MARQVESSE HAMILTON, Master of the Horse to his MAIESTIE, IAMES HAMILLTON: ANAGRAMMA, I AMM ALL HONESTY.

Of words, 'tis vaine to vse a Multitude,
Your very Name all Goodnesse doth include.

TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE, THE Lord Steward of his Maiesties Honourable HOVSEHOLD,

WILLIAM HERBERT EARLE OF PENBROKE ANAGRAMMA. LIBERALY MEEK [...], FOR REPVTE HONOVRABLE.

What can be more then is explained here,
T' expresse a worthy well deseruing Peere?

TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE, THE LORD Chamberlaine of his Maiesties most Honou­rable HOVSEHOLD,

PHILIP HERBERT EARLE OFF MONTGOMERY. ANAGRAMMA, FIRME FAITH BEGOT ALL MY PROPER HONER.

Firme faith begot mi [...]e honor (sayes my name)
And my firme faith shalleuer keepe the same.

To the Author, Iohn Taylor.

WAst euer keowne to any time before,
That so much skill in Poesie could be,
Th'attendant to a Skull, or painefull oare?
Thou liu'st in water, but the fire in thee;
That mounting Element, that made thee chuse,
To court Vrania, the diuinest Muse.
Row on: to watermen did neuer blow
Agale so good, none so much goodnesse know.
THOMAS BREWER.
IOhannes Tailerus [...]:
Ira! an honesté lusi:
Lusi et stigmata pessimis inussi,
Paucis, paru [...]; furunt, sed oh meorum
Ira ipsa arbitra, siste; tu librorum
Virus euome! honesté an ipse lusi?
Respon.

Ars niuea hos lenit, [...].

VErbis verbera corripi merentes,
Non est ira; [...]sed ampla mititudo.
Esse [...], decet Poetam,
Sed non [...], [...]renendum est.
Frendens rabula carnifex vocetur.
Qui aurem vellit, is artifex habetur,
Quo sque vrit leuis ira commerentes
Hos lenit niuea ar [...], scitè monentis,
Ergo ludis honesté, amor notabit
Naeuos leniter; hostis aggrauabit.
T. G.

Ad amicum meritò dilectum, Io­hannem Tailor aliàs, aquinatem, vulgó Poëtam aquaticum hende­casyllabae.

QVod numen Thamesis vagae per vndas
Plectro, ludit, eburno deorum?
Physis dicitur; eius hic sacerdos
Fundit millia mille ab ore cantus,
His mulcens lepidum artibus popellum.
Hunc quaerit Dea, & hunc docet sua, illi
Tam secreta libenter illa pandit;
Quam tam rara decenter ille pendit.
Hic verò rutilos Tagi lapillos
Et grandes Orientis, vniones.
Si his mysteria tanta conferantur
Tricas, quisquiliasque censet omnes.
De te sabula tota mi Iohannes
Verso nomine, scito, praedicatur.
Parnassus cerebrum tuum est bifurcus;
Cor, fons est Helicon, sedentque linguâ
Et Musae, & Charites, venustiores.
Ipse es, tu tibi suggerens Apollo
Extrà nil opus inuocare Diues
Naturae tibi sat fauor; ministrans
Intus pectore delitet feraci.
Quod multis labor improbus dat aegré
Suffuratio et impudens librorum
Instinctus genij tui ingenique
Momento intimat: euge perge lymphas,
Plus vltra; Thamesis beate; Cygnos
Moeandri vada tortuosa curui
Non tot quot Thamesis canora nutrit,
Te vicisse iuuabit hos canendo,
Nos iuuabit, & omnia imprimendo.
Hoc si feceris; vnda dum manebit,
Atque aestus Thamesis manebis ipse;
Et campanus; vt est propheta Aquinas:
Anglicanus eris poeta Aquinas,
T. G.

To my worthy and well-deser­uing friend, our wel-known hydropoet, IOHN TAYLOR.

Some till their throats ake cry alowd and hollo
To aucupate great fauors from Apollo.
One Bacchus and some other Venus vrges,
To blesse their brain-brats. Those caerulean surges,
Gyrdling the earth, emball thy nerues, and season
Those animall parts, quick Organs of mans reason.
This Nimph-adored sountaine farre excells,
Aganipe Aon; all that Bubulkes wells.
These daunst about thy Quinbro-bo [...]te to kisse thee,
And often since roare out because they misse thee.
These wyned with loue sicke Thame the banks o'rswel water,
To visit their ingenious darlings Cell.
Blue Neptunes salt tempred with Thames sweet
Make thee both tart and pleasing. What theater
Of late; could Cinthius, halfe staru'd mists perswade
T' applaud; nay not to hisse at what they made?
Then call on Neptune still; let Delos sinke
Or swimme; for thee let Phoebus looke, or winke
VVhilst his poore Priests grow mad with ill successe:
That still the more they write they please the lesse.
Thine Amphitritean Muse growes more arrident,
And Phoebus tripos, stoopes to Neptunes trident.
R. H.

To his friend the Author.

IN sport I hitherto haue told thy same,
But now thy Muse doth merit greater Name:
Soares high to Heau'n, from earth and water flies,
And lea [...]ing baser matters, mounts the skies.
Where hidden knowledge, she doth sweetly sing,
Carelesse of each inferiour common thing.
Oh that my Soule could follow her in this,
To shun fowle sin, and seeke eternall blisse!
Her strength growes great, and may God euer send,
Me to amend my [...]aults, as she doth mend.
ROBERT BRANTHWAITE.

To my honest friend, Iohn Taylor.

WHat shall I say, kind Friend, to let thee know
How worthily I doe this worke esteeme?
Whereof I thinke I cannot too much deeme,
From which I find a world of wit doth flow.
The poore vnpollisht praise I can bestow
Vpon' this well deseruing worke of thine,
Which heere I freely offer at thy Shrine,
Is like a Taper, when the Sunne doth showe,
Or bellowes helpe for Eol's breath to blow:
For thou as much hast soard beyond the flraine,
Whereto our common Muses doe attaine:
As Cintyhaes light exceeds the wormes that glow [...]
And were my Muse reple at with learned phrase,
The world should know thy work deserueth praise.
Thine in the best of friendship, RICHARD LEIGH.

To the deseruing author, Iohn Taylor.

IT is disputed much among the wise,
If that there be a water in the skyes:
If there be one: no Water-man before,
Was euer knowne to row in't with his Oare.
If none; such is thy high surmounting pen,
It soares aboue the straine of Watermen:
Whether there be or no, seeke farre and neere,
Th'art matchlesse sure in this eur hemispheere.
WILLIAM BRANTHWAITE Cant.

To my friend Iohn Taylor.

ROw on (good Water-man) and looke back still,
(Thus as thou dost) vpon the Muses Hill,
To guide thee in thy course: Thy Boate's a sphaere
Where thine Vrania moues diuinely. cleare.
Well hast thou pli'd and (with thy learned Oare)
Cut through a Riner, to a nobler shore,
Then euer any landed-at. Thy saile,
(Made all of clowdes) swels with a prosp'rous gale.
Some say, there is a Ferriman of Hell,
The Ferriman of Heau'n, I now know well,
And that's thy selfe, transporting soules, to Blisse.
VRANIA sits at Helme and Pilot is;
For Thames, thou hast the lactea via found,
Be thou with baies (as that with stars is) crownd.
THOMAS DEKKAR.

A Catalogue of all the seuerall Bookes contained in this VOLVME.

  • TAylors Vrania.
  • The first part of the troubles and destru­ctions of Ierusalem.
  • The second part and finall destruction of Ieru­salem by Titus and Vespasian
  • The life and death of the most blessed amongst women, The Virgin Mary, the mother of our Lord Iesus Christ.
  • Superbiae flagellum, or the Whip of Pride.
  • Against cursing and swearing.
  • The fearefull Summer.
  • The Trauels of tweluepence.
  • The Armado, or Nauy of Ships that saile as well by land as by sea.
  • The Begger, or the praise of beggers beggery and begging.
  • Taylors Goose.
  • Iacke a Lent.
  • Taylors pennilesse Pilgrimage, or Iourney (without money) from London to Edenbo­rough in Scotland, and backe to London.
  • The Acts and exployts of Wood the great Eater, in Kent.
  • Sir Gregory Nonsence.
  • A very merry Wherry voyage from London, to Yorke with a paire of Oares.
  • A new Discouery, (by sea) with a wherry, from London to Salisbury.
  • A Kicksie winsie, or a Lerry cum Twang.
  • Taylors Motto.
  • An Epicedium or mournfull death-song for Coriats supposed drowning.
  • The eight Wonder of the world, or Coriats re­uiuing.
  • Laugh and be fat.
  • Coriats Newes and letter with the Authours paraphrasing verses.
  • A Bawd very modest.
  • A Whore very honest.
  • A Thiefe very [...]ue.
  • A Hangman very necessary.
  • The vnnaturall Father.
  • Taylors Reuenge against Fenner.
  • Fenners Defence.
  • A Cast ouer the water to Fenner.
  • The Water-mans suite concerning pl [...]ers.
  • Wit and mirth.
  • A Dogge of Warre.
  • The World runs on wheeles.
  • The Nipping or snipping of abuses.
  • A briefe of the Chronicle from Brute to this present in Verse.
  • A Briefe of the Chronicle from the Norman Conquest to this present.
  • A Farewell to the Towre bottles.
  • The Marriage of the Princesse Elizabeth.
  • A funerall Elegie for King Iames.
  • A funerall Elegy for the Earle of Nottingham.
  • A funerall Elegy for the Earle of Holdernesse.
  • A funerall Elegy for the Bishop of Winche­ster.
  • A funerall Elegy for the Duke of Richmond and Linox.
  • A funerall Elegy for Iohn Moray Esquire.
  • [Page]The Summe of the Bible in verse.
  • The Summe of the Booke of Martyrs in verse.
  • Archie his making peace with France.
  • The Praise of Hempseed.
  • Taylors Pastorall.
  • Three weekes and three dayes trauells from London into Germany.
  • Taylors Trauell to Bohemia.
  • An English mans loue to Bohemia.
  • The Dolphins danger and deliuerance.
  • The Cormorant.
  • Abraue Sea-fight by Captaine Iohn Weddell in the gulfe of Persia.
  • The Sculler.
  • Christian admonitions.
  • The great. O Toole
  • The Churches deliuerances.
  • Prince G [...]ales his welcome from Spaine.
  • The praise of cleane linnin.
These Bookes in number sixty three are heere,
Bound in one Volume; scattred here and there,
They stand not thus in order in the booke;
But any man may finde them, that will looke.

TO THE MOST HIGH, MOST MIGHTY, AND MOST ANCIENT PRODVCER, SEDVCER, AND ABVSER OF MANKIND, THE WORLD.

MOst Potent and Powerfull Imposture, take it not amisse that I a poore worme of your own breeding, doe (in waie of retribution) giue you here the encrease of my Tallent, which I haue beene almost 60 yeeres a gathering. It was told me that when I first came to visit you, that I cri'd and Waw'ld, and that when I leaue you, I shall sigh and grone: and euer since I knew you, I haue loued you so well for the good parts I haue seen in you, that I could verie willingly be glad to change you for a bet­ter. I know not what Title to put vpon you, you haue as many stiles alreadie as the great Turke; with the soldier, you are a hard World; with the Diuine, you are a wicked world; with the Lawyer you are a contentious world, with the Courtier you are a slipperie world; with most men a mad world; and with all men a bad world. The Diuell (your brother) and your sister the ( Flesh) hath quite spoiled you of all your good qualities and conditions; and (worse then that) they haue made you blinde, that you cannot or will not see your owne faults, and you haue blinded all your inhabitants that they can neither feele or perceiue their miseries: for which cause, I haue made bold to dedicate this Volume to your greatnesse, wherein (as in a glasse) you may view your im­perfections. Here shall you see all your foure ages now combind in one; first, This is the Golden age, for Gold can doe any thing; it can both cleare and bleare the eies of Iustice: it can turne Religion into Policie, Pietie into per­iurie, and what not. Siluer indeed lookes white, and white is the colour of Age (Ergo the Siluer age) which though it run in an inferiour straine to Gold, yet it works wonders, and without it there is no market kept in Church or Commonwealth: for whosoeuer is King, Pecunia is Queene. The Brazen age is apparant in euerie mans impudencie; most men and womens foreheads or our-sides (which are their actions) doe manifest that they liue in an age of Brasse. Lastly, the Iron age is palpably present, for many soldiers (who maine­taine their liues with daily seeking their deaths) haue stomacks like Estriches, and (through want of meanes) they eat vp their swords and pistols. Amongst all these, I haue long time noted your great bountie, you haue beene so fauo­rable [Page] to giue some men as much ambition as serued them (iustly) for the breaking of their necks. To some you haue giuen Abundance, and you haue made that Abundance beget Auarice, and that Auarice to beget destruction: some you haue furnished with beautie, and that beautie hath confounded chastitie: on some you haue (suddenly) thrown honors and promotions, and those you haue loaden with enuie, slander & continuall perplexities. In a word, your gifts are so mischieuously mixed, as wit with beggerie, follie with wealth, and the like, that I protest I am wearie of you, which makes me thus bold to tell you of your iadish tricks. You neuer fauored me, and therefore I haue no reason to flatter you, nor will I flatter you or any man that shall or will doe me fauour. I neuer will make my tong like a plaisterers Trowell, to dawbe and smooth ouer the vices or villanies of any, with Sicophantizing Parasiticall flatterie. World, all that I craue of thee liuing, is a graue when I am dead; and although I flatter thee not; yet I loue thee not, (nor haue I any reason for it) for to mee thy fawnings haue been frownings, thy beneuolence maleuolence, the cour­tesies, cares and crosses, and thy riches (innumerable) restlesle perturbations: besides, when our blessed Sauior was vpon the earth, thy estate was so vile and damnable, that though he praied for his tormentors and crucifiers, yet he one­ly excluded the World (by name) out of his praier saying, I pray not for the world: and can there be any hopes that thou art any better now then thou wert then; nay, it is to be doubted that thou art rather worse. So that if any man will say that he hath occasion to loue thee, hee is either a foole or a mad man: indeed our first father was too diffident towards God, and too credulous to­ward Thee; our first mother was a lyar, and our first brother was a murtherer, this is the sweet kindred wee came of; yet thou (Obewitching world) doest puffe vs vp with pomp, making vs forget our originall, and esteeme our selues Demie-gods, when we are farre lesse then men; there is a more resemblance of immortalitie in a suite in Law, then in the life of a man; and we are so credulous, that when the whoremaster is called honest man, the Knaue will belieue himselfe to be so. Truth is (and euer hath beene) dangrous to be spo­ken. It cost Iohn Baptist his head, and Clytus his life.

World, I haue two requests to thee, which if thou grant mee I will ne­uer thanke thee: the first is good cloathes, (for those beare a monstrous sway) because I haue occasion to speake with great men, and without good cloathes (like a golden sheath to a leaden blade) there is no admittance. Secondly, that thou wilt keepe close from my Readers all preiudicate opinions, or let them be perswaded that this following Booke is not of my writing; for op­pinion doth worke much in such cases; There were Verses once much estee­med for their goodnesse, because it was thought that a learned Italian Poet [Page] named Sanazarus made them; but afterward, being found to bee of a poore mans writing, they lost their estimation. An Anthem was once sung before the Dutchesse of Vrbin, and but slightly regarded; but after, beeing knowne that Iaquin de pris made it, it was extolled. So for my poore inuentions of my poorer selfe, were it namelesse, I am perswaded that it would passe more blamelesse, howsoeuer ( world) to thee I send it; I know thou hast many hu­mours and qualities, and I hope to finde some of the best of them, resoluing to take my lot as it fals with patience, fortitude, and as many vertues as I haue, and more too; knowing my selfe for two conditions to haue no fellow; first, in beeing a Sculler; secondly a VVater-Poet; of the last of which, there is and shall bee no more I hope. And knowing further, that the way to im­mortalitie, is euer to remember mortalitie, and that death hath more manners then an Ague; for death will bee a mans guest but once, which when hee comes, I wish all men readie to bid him welcome; So world, in plaine termes I tell you there is no trust in you (yet I like a foole put you in trùst with my Booke) the reason is, I am wearie of you and it, and take leaue to leaue you.

IOHN TAYLOR.

Errata, or Faults to the Reader.

FAults, but not faults escap'd, I would they were,
If they were faults escap'd, they were not here:
But heere they are, in many a page and line,
Men may perceiue the Printers faults, or mine.
And since my faults are heere in prison fast,
And on record (in print) are like to last,
Since the Correcters let them passe the Presse,
And my occasions mix'd with sicknesses,
And that foure Printers dwelling farre asunder,
Did print this booke, pray make the faults no wonder.
I will confesse my faults are [...]cap'd indeed,
If they escape mens Censure when they read.
No Garden is so cleare, but weedes are in't,
All is not Gold that's coined in the Mint;
The Rose hath prickles, and the spots of sinne,
Oft takes the fairest features for their Inne.
Below the Moone no full perfection is,
And alwaies some of vs are all amisse.
Then in your reading mend each mis-plac'd letter,
And by your iudgement make bad words [...]ound better.
Where you may hurt, heale; where you can affect,
There helpe and cure, or else be not too strict.
Looke through your fingers, wink, conniue at mee,
And (as you meet with faults) see, and not see.
Thus must my faults escape, (or escape neuer,)
For which, good Readers, I am yours for euer.
IOHN TAYLOR.

In laudem Authoris.

THou hast no learning, yet with learned skill
Thou dost write well, although thy meanes be ill.
And if I could, I would thy merits raise,
And crowne thy temples with immortall Bayes.
Thine in the best of friendship, ABRAHAM VIELL.

TAYLORS VRANIA.

To the Vnderstander.
SEe here the Pride and Knowledge of a Sayler,
His Sprit-saile, Fore-saile, Main-saile, & his Mizz [...];
A poore fraile man, God wot, I know none frailer:
I know for Sinners, Christ is dead, and rizen.
I know no greater [...]inner then Iohn Taylor,
Of all, his Death did Ransome out of Prizzen,
And therefore here's my Pride, if it be Pride,
To know Christ, and to know him Crucifide.
(1)
ETernall God, which in thine armes do'st Graspe
All past, all present, and all future things:
And in ineuitable doome dost claspe
The liues and deaths of all that dyes and springs,
And at the doomefull day will once vnhaspe
Th'accusing booke of Subiects and of Kings.
In whom though ending nor beginning be,
Let me ( O Lord) beginne and end in thee.
(2)
All cogitations vaine from me remooue,
And cleanse my earthly and polluted heart:
Inspire me with thy blessings from aboue,
That (to thy honour) I with Artlesse Art
May sing thy Iustice, Mercy, and thy Loue;
Possesse me with thy Grace in euery part,
That no prophane word issue from my pen,
But to the Glory of thy name; Amen.
(3)
I doe beseech thee, gracious louing Father,
Reiect me not in thy sharpe iudging Ire:
But in thy multitude of Mercies Rather
Recall me to thee, Recollect me Nigher,
My wandring Soule into thy bosome Gather,
And with thy Grace my gracelesse heart Inspire,
Dictate vnto my mind what it may thinke,
Write with thy Spirit what I may write with ink.
(4)
Thou all things wast cu'n then when nothing was,
And then, thou all things did'st of nothing make:
Of nothing All thou still hast brought to passe,
And all againe, to nothing must betake.
When sea shall burne, and l [...]d shall melt like brasse,
When hills shall tremble, and the mountaines quak [...].
And when the World to Chaos turne [...] againe,
Then thou Almighty All, shalt All remaine.
(5)
And since this vniuersall massie ball
This earth, this aire, this water, and this fire,
Must to a ruine and a period fall,
And all againe to nothing must retire:
Be thou to me my onely All in All,
Whose loue and mercy neuer shall expire.
In thee I place my treasure and my trust,
Where Fellon cannot steale, or canker rust.
(6)
All things (but only God) at first began,
The vncreated God did all Create:
In him Alone is equall will and can,
Who hath no ending, or commencing date.
To whose Eternitie all time's a span
Who was, is, shalbe, euer in one state.
All else to nothing hourely doth decline,
And onely stands vpon support Diuine.
(7)
Our high Creator our first Parents form'd,
And did inspire them with his heau'nly spirit:
Our Soules-seducer ( Satan) them deform'd,
And from Gods fauour did them disinherit:
Our blest Redeemer them againe reform'd,
And ransom'd them by his vnbounded merit.
Thus were they form'd, deform'd, reform'd againe
By God, by Satan, and our Sauiours paine.
(8)
Mans Generation did from God proceed
A mortall Body, and a Soule Eternall:
Degeneration was the Deuils deed,
With false delusions and with lies infernall:
Regeneration was our Sauiours meede,
Whose death did satisfie the wrath supernall.
Thus was man found, and lost, and lost was found
By Grace; with Glory euer to be crownd.
(9)
Man was Produc'de, seduced, and reduc'de
By God, by Satan, and by God agen:
From good to ill, from ill he was excusd'e
By merit of th'Immortall Man of men.
The vnpolluted bloud from him was sluc'de,
To saue vs from damnations dreadfull den.
Thus man was made, and marde, and better made,
By Him who did sinne, death, and hell inuade.
(10)
Let man consider then but what he is,
And contemplate on what erst he hath bin:
How first he was created heire of blisse,
And how he fell to be the Child of sinne;
How (of himselfe) he hourely doth amisse,
And how his best workes doe no merit winne,
Except acceptance make them be esteem'd,
Through his obedience that our Soules redeem'd.
(11)
Before thou wast, remember thou wast nought,
And out of nought (or nothing) thou wast fram'de:
And how thy Body being made and wrought
By God, was with a liuing Soule inflam'de:
And how th'Eternall Nomenclator taught
Thee name all Creatures that were euer nam'de,
And made thee Stuard of the worlds whole treasure
And plac'de thee in a Paradise of pleasure.
(12)
Then wast thou Viceroy to the King of heau'n,
And great Lieutenant to the Lord of hosts:
The rule of all things vnto thee was giu'n,
At thy command all creatures seru'd like posts
To come or goe, and at thy becke were driu'n
Both neere and farre, vnto the farthest coasts.
God all things made, as seruants vnto thee
Because thou only shouldst his seruant be.
(13)
He gaue life vnto hearbes, to plants, and trees,
For if they wanted life, how could they grow?
A beast hath life and sence, moues, feeles, and sees,
And in some sort doth good and euill know:
But man's before all Creatures in degrees:
God life, and sence, and reason did bestow.
And left those blessings should be transitory,
He gaue him life, sence, reason, grace, and glory.
(14)
Then let our meditations scope be most,
How at the first we were created good:
And how we (wilfull) grace and goodnes lost
And of the sonnes of God, were Satans brood.
Then thinke the price, that our Redemption cost
Th'eternall Sonne of Gods most precious blood.
Remember this whilst life and sence remaine,
Else life, and sence, and reason are in vaine.
(15)
Thou to requite thy God that all thee gaue,
Ingratefully against him didst rebell:
Whereby from Regall state, thou turnedst slaue,
And heau'nly lustice doom'd thee downe to hell.
As thy rebellion from thy God thee draue,
So' gainst thee all things to rebellion fell.
For when to heau'n thy due obedience ceast,
Thy disobedience taught each brutish beast.
(16)
Now see thy miserable wretched state,
Thou and the earth is [...]k [...] with thee accurst:
All worldly things, which thee obaide of late,
In stiffe commotion now against thee burst:
And thee for euer droue from Eden gate,
To liue an exilde wretch, and which is worst,
Thy soule, (Gods darling) fell from her prefermēt,
To be the Deuils thrall, in endlesse torment.
(17)
But Mercies sea hath quenched Iustice fire,
And Heau'ns high heire (in pitty of mans ca [...])
In person came, and satisfide Gods ire,
And gracelesse man new Reposse [...]t in Grace.
The Sonne of God came downe, to raise vs higher,
To make vs Glorious, he himselfe made ba [...].
To draw vs vp, downe vnto earth he came,
And honor'd vs, by putting on our shame.
(18)
Who can conceiue the Glory he was in
Aboue the heau'ns of heau'ns in threan'd in blisse?
Who can conceiue the losse that he did winne
To recti [...]ie and answer our amisse?
Who can conceiue the Mountaines of our sinne,
That must be hid with such a sea as this?
No heart, no tongue, no pen of mortall wight
These things can once concei [...]e, or speake, or write.
(19)
Man may collect th'abundance of his vice,
And the deare loue his God to him did beare,
In thinking on th'inestimable price
Was paid his un [...]e-pollated [...]ou [...]e to cleare,
To giue him an immortall Paradise,
And to redeeme his foes, to pay so d [...]are.
For if our sinnes had not beene more then much,
The ransome of them [...]ure had not beene such.
(20)
The blood of any mighty mortall King
Was insufficient this great debt to pay:
Arch-angels power, or Angels could not bring
A Ransome worth forbcarance but a day;
The onely Sonne of God must doe this thing,
El [...]e it must be vndone, and we for aye.
God was the Creditor, and man the debter,
Christ (God & man) did pay, none could pay better.
(21)
Then since thy sinfull Some from Grace was lost,
And since by Grace it hath found Grace againe:
Since being lost, so great a price is lost,
T'enfranchise it from euerlasting paine,
And since thy crimes are quit, thy debts are crost,
Thy peace with God, the way to heau'n made plain
Let not all this in vaine for thee be done,
But thankfull be to God, through Christ his Sonne.
(22)
Forget not thou a [...]t ashes, earth, and dust,
And that from whence thou cam'st, then shalt again:
And at the last Trumpe that appeare thou must,
When Procseys and Essoynes are all in vaine:
Where iust and [...]iust, shall haue iudgement iust,
For euer doomb'd to endlesse ioy, or paine.
Where though that thou bee damn'd, it is Gods glory,
Thy wife, thy sonne, thy [...]ire, will not be sorry.
(23)
Me thinks it should make man this world to lot [...]e
When that which will a thousand clo [...] and feede:
It should but onely one man [...]eede and clothe
In [...]ares excesse, and gorgewisnesse of weede:
Yet this braue canker, this consuming moth
(Who in his life ne'r meanes to doe good deede)
Must be ad or'd for those good pa [...]ts he wa [...]s,
By fearefull Fooles, and flattering Sicophan [...].
(24)
Hath he the title of an earthly grace?
Or hath he Honor, Lordship, Worship? or
Ha [...]h he in Court some great com [...]anding place?
Or hath he wea [...]th to be regarded for?
If with these honors, vertue he embrace,
Then loue him; else his p [...]ck [...]oi [...]t pompe abho [...]e.
"Sun-shine on dung-h [...]ls makes them [...] the more,
"And Honor shewes all that was had before.
(25)
Shall men giue reu'rence to a painted trunke
That's nothing but all outside, and within
Their senses are with blacke damnation drunke,
Whose heart [...]s Satans Tap-house, or his Inne [...]
Whose Reputation inwardly is [...]unk [...],
Though outwardly raisd vp, and swolne with [...]
I thinke it wor [...]e then to adore the Deui [...],
To worship his ba [...]e instrumenrs of [...]uill.
(26)
No, looke vpon the Man, and not his Case,
See how he doth his Maker imi [...]ate:
If Grace supernall, giue internall Grace,
That makes his minde on vertue contemplate,
That holds this world, and all things in't as base,
Knowes death makes happy, or vnfortunate.
That doth no wrong, for fouour, [...]e, or [...],
And layes on each, that each det [...]ru's to bea [...].
(27)
Such men (no doubt) but few such liuing are,
For they are thickly so [...]'d, and thinly grow'd,
The purest Wheat is mixed with the Tare,
The humble mindes, are seruile to the proud.
Vice Reu [...]ls, and poore Vertue's poore and bare,
Hypocrisie into the Church will crowd.
So man must more then human [...]it poss [...]ss [...],
T'escape the baites and inares of wickednesse.
(28)
The Atheist of the Scriptures can dispute,
That one would deeme him a Religious man:
The Temporizer to the Time will sute,
Although his Zeale be Machimillian.
Then there's a Faith that seldome yeelds good fruit,
And though impure, is call'd a ' [...]tan.
A thousand Sei [...] in thousand Pr [...], shapes
Are Times true Turne-c [...]ates, and Religions Apes.
(29)
The greatest plague, that euer came from Hell,
Is to be puft and stuft with selfe-conceit:
When men too Ill, esteeme themselues too well,
When ouer-valued worth proues light in weight,
When Selfe-loue and Ambition makes vs swell
Aboue the limits of Discretions height.
When the poore lay displays his borrowed plumes;
And man (vnfeeling sin) to sinne presumes.
(30)
But if thy feathred pride, Icarian-high
Doth soare too farre aboue true Reasons bownd:
Th'eternall Sunne thy waren wings will frie,
Thy fatall Fall, thy Folly shall confound.
Who (like that Cretan) mounts ambitiously,
In Seas of sorrow shall (like him) be drownd.
By pride the Caldean Monarchie decreast,
A King (the best of men) was made a Beast.
(31)
The state of Man may be compared well
Vnto a Kingdome gouern'd well or ill:
For if his Rule and Policie excell,
His Reason (like a Queene) commands his will.
But if seditious Passions doe rebell,
They Reasons Court with all disorder fill,
And ouer-run her carelesse Common-wealth,
With murder, fraud, oppression, whoredome, stealth.
(32)
The Sence [...] are this Kingdomes Court of Guarde,
To keepe their Queene secure from terrene treason:
Great is the trust and safetie of this Ward,
Whilst they giue true Intelligence to Reason:
But if this Guarde their duties not regard,
And mis-informe their Queene at any season;
Then right for wrong and wrong for right sheele conster,
And in her Apprehension proues a Monster.
(33)
The Hearing, Sight, the Taste, the Smell and Touch,
If Vices doe present themselues for obiects:
And they (incredulous) not deeme them such,
Informing Reason that they are good Subiects;
If Reasons iudgement be not more then much,
She entertaines for Worthies these base Abiects:
Who spoyle her Court, and breake her Kingdomes frame,
And turne her State and Glory into shame.
(34)
The Appetite, the Fancie, and the Will,
(Spirituall Fa [...]nkies) are Reasons Peeres:
Who (of themselues) doe counsell all things ill,
Not knowing what is true, but what appeares:
If she attend, what onely they instill,
She takes in meere delusions through her eares:
And they at last will thrust her from her Throne,
And then (vsurping Rebels) sit thereon.
(35)
These Vassals hauing got the Regall sway,
Inforce the Commons which are the Affections,
Their hatefull hellish precepts to obey,
With promise of their fauours and protections:
Th' Affections all agree, and all doe pay
These Miscreants their tributes and subiections,
And now is Reason banisht, and they threat,
She ne're shall gaine againe her awfull seat.
(36)
Th'vsurping Heart, sometimes doth raigne as King,
Sometimes the Braine is Counseller of State:
The Eyes and Eares, Intelligence doe bring,
The Tongue (as Herald) tydings doth relate.
The Hands and Feet doe execute each thing,
Which these intruding Tyrants loue or hate.
And euery Member plaies a painfull part,
To serue a swimming Braine, and swelling Heart.
(37)
The Fancy (like an Ape) skips to, and fro,
Begins a thousand things, and endeth none:
Makes, marrs, forbids, and bids, no, yea, yea, no,
Doe, and vndoe, hold fast, and let alone:
Run, stay, vp, downe, stand, fall, goe, come, come, goe;
Sad, glad, mad, wittie, foolish, mirth and moue.
Thus Fancie doth in Apish toyes delight
To serue the greedy maw of appetite.
(38)
And Appetite (as doth a big-womb'd Dame)
Lusts, longs, desires, and must haue this and that:
Hearbs, roots, fruits, flowres, Fish, Fowle, Beasts wilde and tame
She must & wil haue, wel she knows not what:
Whilst Fancy, and Imagination frame
Themselues more nimbly then a mouzing Cat,
Still searching what the Appetite desires,
Superfluous meats, drinks, bables, and attires.
(39)
The Memory's Lord Keeper of the Treasure,
And great Recorder of this world of dust:
The Vnderstanding giues true Iustice measure
To Good, to Bad, to Iust, and to Vniust;
Inuention and Remembrance waite the leasure
Of Memorie; and Vnderstanding must
Haue Wisedome for her fellow, and her guide,
Else Prince, and Peeres, and Commons stray aside.
(40)
Truth, and false Lying, on the Tongue attends;
The one instructs her plainely in the Tr [...]ath,
The other's proper, and improper, ends
Doth reach to lye, and vouch it with an oath:
The Tongue loues one of these, yet both contends,
But she wants entertainment for them both.
At last she takes in Lying for her Page,
And bids Truth walke a beggers Pilgrimage.
(41)
When VVisedome must giue Follie cap and knee,
When hare-braind will, o're Wit doth rule & raigne,
When Lying, shall make Truth regardles be,
When Loue is payde with hatred and disdaine:
When Sense and Appetite doe all agree
To serue a false rebellious heart and braine;
When they haue Reasons Court, thus vnderminde,
It is a signe that Vnderstanding's blinde.
(42)
Then is the place where Vertue doth abode,
Made a foule Rendeuouz for filthy Vice:
The Temple of the holy Spirit of God
Esteemes his blessed presence of no price.
Man spurnes against his iust reuenging Rod
Worse then the Iewes, that for his Coat cast Dice.
Men falne into a reprobated Sence,
Dread not their Makers great Omnipotence.
(43)
Then what art thou, polluted earthly clod,
Thou, span, thou froth, thou bubble, and thou smoke:
Worse then the dust, that vnder-foot is trod,
Dar'st thou thy Makers furie to prouoke?
Why wilt thou (wilfull) thy perdition plod,
And with damnation thy saluation choke?
Christ bought thy Soule, and lent it thee to vse it,
'Tis one of thine; and therefore not abuse it.
(44)
Dar'st thou prophane with thy vngodly breath
His name, that did (before the world) elect thee?
Dar'st thou dare him his Iustice sword t'vnsheath?
Dar'st thou prouoke his mercy to reiect thee?
Dar'st thou run headloug to perpetuall death,
Whereas eternall torments shall correct thee?
And dar'st thou (wretched worme) of earthly race,
Belch blasphemy against thy Makers Grace?
(45)
He thou offendest is the King of Kings,
Heau'n Earth and Hell, doe tremble at his frowne:
Bright Angells and Archangells alwayes sings
Before the seat of his immortall Crowne:
His foes to fell confusion downe he slings,
He giues his seruants Honour and Renowne.
His power's not circumscribed here, or there
But all in all, is all, and euery-where.
(46)
Can nothing moue thy flinty heart to Ruthe,
That of thy selfe thou some remorse wouldst take;
And not to spend thy beauty, strength, and youth,
To serue the Sou'raigne of the Stygian Lake?
Say not, to morrow, thou wilt seeke the truth,
And when sin leaues thee, thou wilt sinne forsake.
When thou no more (through weaknes) canst of­fend,
Then lame, old, rotten, thou wilt God attend.
(47)
When hoary haire, and blood all frozen chill,
When eyes waxe dim, and limbs are weake & lame:
And that no more thy rash rebellious will
Cannot performe vile deeds of sinne and shame:
When thou hast lost thy strength to doe more ill,
Then vnto Heau'n, thy minde thou' ginst to frame.
Thy youth in Satans seruice being spent,
In age thou think'st on God, and dost repent.
(48)
Supppose a man that's much ingag'd to thee,
Hath a good Horse, which thou dost much desire:
Thou offrest for him thrice his worth, to be
The Master of this Beast thou dost require:
But this ingrate full wretch will not agree
To giue, to sell him thee, or let thee hire,
But lets him (all his youth) be rid by those
Who are thy spightfull, and thy mortall foes:
(49)
And when hee's leane, and old, and lame, and blinde.
Gall'd, foundred, filtby, wanting no disease:
Botts, Glaunders, Spauin, broken in the winde,
Not a tooth left to mumpe on beanes and pease:
Then this Companion, (most vnkindly kinde)
Will let thee haue this Palfray, if thou please,
If now (past good) thou scornest to receiue him,
Heele slay his skin off, & the dogs shall haue him.
(50)
Betwixt thy God and thee, such is the case:
When thou art young, strong, sound of winde and lim.
Thy soule and body shuns his heau'nly Grace,
Thou wilt not serue thy God, nor waite on him:
But (heedlesse) headlong run'st a hellish race,
Till age hath brought thee to the graues hard brim:
Then (being clog'd with sin, diseas'd and foule)
Thou offrest God thy body and thy soule.
(51)
But dost thou thinke he is at thy command,
Or that his mercy must attend thy leasure?
Or dost thou thinke thou canst in iudgement stand
And scape the iustice of his high displeasure?
Or dost thou thinke that his Almighty hand
Is shortned? or that his supernall pleasure
Regards not how the Sonnes of Men doe liue?
Or that without Repentance hee'le forgiue?
(52)
Sly Satans Rage is almost at an end,
And well he knowes his domination's short.
He therefore now doth all his Engins bend
To batter and confound our fleshly Fort;
He and his Ministers doe all attend
To draw vs to his damn'd infernall Court.
For if he lose our soules at latest cast.
Twill be too late when all his power is past.
(53)
And therefore now he plots his diuellish drifts,
To separate vs from our God so louing:
In making vs vnthankefull for his gifts,
And by our heynous sins his Anger mouing,
Whilst wings of Faith our prayers vpwards lifts
To praise our Maker (as is best behouing)
Then Satan kills our Zeale, and vnawares
We are intangled in vile worldly snares.
(54)
God made enough, all men to satisfie,
Yet not enough to giue one Man content:
For he that had the worlds whole foueraigntie,
Would couet for a further continent.
Ambitious thirst of fading Dignitie
(As though they were for euer permanent)
Doth banish Loue, and euery heau'nly Motion,
Blinds all our Zeale, and murders our Deuotion.
(55)
'Tis truely writ in many a thousand story,
And thousand thousand sheets of blotted paper
Declares how terrene things are transitory,
Incertaine certaine, wasting like a Taper.
How frothy painted Pompe, and greedy Glory
When least we thinke, doth vanish like a vaper.
Experience teacheth this, and truth bewraies it,
And various humane accidents displaies it.
(56)
To day great Diues in a purple coate,
With Epicurian Appetite doth feed:
His cups with Wine doe ouerflow and floate,
His baggs with quoyne, his heart from feare is freed,
And on the world, and wealth doth only dote,
(As if his death, his life should not succeed.)
He loues himselfe, himselfe loues him agen,
And liu's a hated wretch, of God and Men.
(57)
Nor stone, or dropsie, or the groaning Gowt
Can make him with his wealth to liue in hate,
He (maugre paine) takes pleasure to finde out
New Proiects to increase his too great state;
To marry much to much, he casts about,
And neuer dreames of his expiring date,
Vntill he heare the fatall bell to towle,
And Hell stand gaping to deuoure his Soule.
(58)
I'haue heard of an extortionizing Curr,
That hath beene numbd and sencelesse, as a logg;
Who neither limbe, or leg, or ioynt could sturr,
But on his death-bed grunting like a Hog [...]
And almost speechlesse with his rattling Murr,
Yet care of Coyne his conscience did so clogg,
That not a thought of Heau'n he could afford,
But ten [...] the hundred was his latest word.
(59)
Thus Gold that should be captiue vnto all,
Doth captiuate his Keeper, as a slaue:
Who like an Idoll doth before it fall,
And neuer meanes another God to haue.
And when Heau'ns Pursiuant, gr [...]m-Death, doth call
To warne him to his vn-a-voyded Graue,
Vntill his Iawes be craw'd, and ram'd with mold,
Hee'le speake or (speechles) make a signe for gold.
(60)
We ought no formed Creature to adore,
Or frame will-worship in our idle braine:
Nor of the Angells must we ought implore,
For Man and Angells helpe is all but vaine;
Yet pur-blind Auarice still gapes for more,
And makes his Mammonuish God his gaine:
He playes the Bawd, his money is the Whore,
Whilst it breeds Bastards, he doth hold the door:.
(61)
He thinks his life Angelicall, because
Amongst the Angells he doth spend his time:
And Royall he will be, for in his pawes
The Royalls are insnarde like birds in lime:
And with his Nobles he ordeineth Iawes,
That base extortion shall not be a crime.
He marks how Kingdomes, Prouinces, and Townes,
Are ouer-ruled by his cursed Crownes.
(62)
But if he note his Angells, what they be;
Not heau'nly, nor yet those from Heau'n that fell:
But they are in a third, and worse degree
Dumb damned sencelesse ministers of Hell.
They cannot smell, or feele, taste, heare, or see,
And thousand times be'ng told, yet cannot tell,
Th'ar lock'd, and barr'd, and bolted vp in thrall,
Which shewes their Nature not Angelicall.
(63)
His Royalls doth not Royallize himselfe,
Or make him better then he is, or was,
In spight of all his ill got canker'd Pelfe,
Hee's but a miserable golden Asse:
The Deuills deare darling, a most hatefull Else,
Which as Hells Factor on the Earth doth passe.
Were euery haire about him made a Royall,
He were a Wreath, to God and Men disloyall.
(64)
His Nobles no way doth enoble him,
Their Counsell cannot mend his Rascall minde:
His heart's obdurate, and his eyes are dim
To thinke or see, t'ward good to be inclinde.
Hee'le venter soule and body, life and [...]
To scrape and scratch what he must leaue behinde.
His Nobles thus, ignobly make him liue,
And headlong to the Deuill, their Master, driue.
(65)
Amongst his Marks he neuer marketh how
He spends, or lends, or giues, his ill got store:
He marks to make it multiply and grow,
And for the vse of Fiftie takes a score.
He neuer dreads Heau'ns dreadfull angry bro [...]e,
But daily grinds the faces of the poore.
Let vengeance thunder, and let Hels dog barke,
Amongst his Marks, of Grace he hath no marke.
(66)
And though a world of Crownes are in his hand,
For euery Crowne might he a Kingdome haue,
His state no better (in my minde) should stand
Then a rich Begger, or a kingly Slaue.
He should his Crownes, and they not him command,
They (Vassall-like) should do what he should craue.
Lo thus the Crownes their Soueraigne ouerswayes,
They rule and Raigne, he like a Slaue obeyes.
(67)
Thus Angels to a C [...]usffe, are a curse,
His Royalls makes his basenes farre more base:
His Nobles, his ignoble minde make worse;
His Marks, are marks and figures of disgrace:
And Crownes vsurpeth in his Niggard purse,
And in his heart Contentment hath no place.
For Angels, Royalls, Marks and Crownes
Can put no vertue, in the minds of Clownes.
(68)
The onely slaue of slaues, is Moneyes slaue,
He pines in plenty, staru's amidst his store:
Dies liuing, and doth liue as in a Graue,
In wealthy- want, and in abundance poore:
The Goods he hath, he badly doth depratte,
And only cares how he may purchase more.
For he himselfe cannot afford himselfe
A good meales meat, for wasting of his pelfe.
(69)
His feare's his wealth, his torment his delight,
His Conscience foule, affrightfull is his sleepe:
His hope despaire, his mirth in sadnes dight,
His ioyes are Cares, what he hath got to keepe:
His Rest, is restles vnrest day and night,
And in a Sea of Melancholy deepe,
Amidst his large possessions liu's in lack,
And dies in debt to's belly and his back.
(70)
Me thinkes I heare a Miser-Churle obiect,
None railes at Wealth, but those which liue in want:
The idle Grashopper cannot affect
The toylesome labours of the frugall Ant:
The [...]digall by no meanes will be checkt
So much as when his Purses lining's scant.
The Fox doth scorne the Grapes, but wot you why?
Because out of his reach, they hang too high.
(71)
So doth a sort of poore and needy Hyndes,
The scum and dregs, of euery Common wealth:
The shag-rag-shag-hand crue, whose boundles minds
Must be supplide with shifting, or by stealth.
Like sick men, when their paines their Reason blinds
They enuy all men that are well in health.
So doth a swarme of Drones, and idle mates
Reuile and enuie at our happy states.
(72)
But let them storme, and ra [...]e, and curse, and sweare,
Within our coffers, we will keepe the Gold:
Let them themselues, themselues in pieces teare.
What we haue got with toyle, with care we'le hold.
What is't doth men to reputation reare,
But when their goods & wealth growes manifold,
We care not then, let needy Rascalls raile
Till Tyburne eat them, or some lothsome Iayle.
(73)
Thus doth a Wretch his thirst of Gaine excuse,
And makes his bad trade good with show of thrift:
Himselfe, (continuall) with himselfe doth muse
Vpon some purchase, or some gaining drift;
And as a Hog, his downeward lookes doe vse
To poare, and not aloft his eyes to lift.
He takes Heau'ns fruit, & hoordeth vp the same,
And ne're remembers God, from whence it came.
(74)
But fill thy baggs, till they are ouer-filld,
And empt thy conscience more, (if more thou can)
Raise higher rents, and let thy Land be till'd,
And tell thy selfe thou art a happy man.
Pull downe thy Barnes, and boasting bigger build,
As if thy blessed state were new began.
Then comes a voyce, with horror and off right,
Thou foole, Ile fetch away thy soule this night.
(75)
And tell me then, who shall these Goods possesse
That thou hast damn'd thy selfe to purchase them?
Who shall be heire to all thy vaine excesse,
For which thy soule, that deare (too deare) bought I [...],
In hazard is, of endlesse wretchednesse
Be'ing banisht from the new Ierusalem.
The goods are ill, that doth the world controule,
Whose cursed gaine, doth lose the Owners soule.
(76)
What's in the world should make men wish to liue,
If men could well consider what it is:
What in the world that happinesse can giue,
Which is not drownd in sorrowes blacke Abis [...]?
What goods in the world can a man atchieue,
But woe and misery, o'rewhelmes his blisse?
No pleasures, or contentments stedfast are:
For all we can call Outs, is onely Care.
(77)
I'haue seene a Gallant, mounted all in gold
Like Alexander, on Bucephalus:
The ground (in his conceit) too base to hold
Him, whom the smiles of Fortune fauours thus.
But in his height of heat, how soone hee's cold,
By death, snatch'd from his pompe, himselfe, & vs!
His Name, and Noble-Mushrom-fame forgot,
And all things (but his shame) must lye and rot.
(78)
The beauteous Lady, that appeares a Saint,
Of Angells forme, and Heau'n admired hue:
That can (by Art) defectiue Nature paint,
And make false colours to the eye seeme true:
Yet Death at last, her brau'ry doth attaint,
And (spight her Art) she must pay Natures due.
The rarest features, and the fairest formes
Must dye and rot, and be consum'd with wormer.
(79)
Wealth, Beauty, as they are abusde or vsde,
They make the Owners either curst or blest:
As Good or Ill is in the minde infusde,
They adde a ioyfull rest, or woes vnrest:
To vse them well th'are blest, but if abusde,
Thy God doth thee & them loath and detest:
And turnes his blessings, which should most cōtent thee,
To dreadfull cursings, which shal stil torment thee.
(80)
Seeke then Heau'ns Kingdome, and things that are right,
And all things else shall be vpon thee cast:
Thy dayes of Ioy shall neuer turne to night,
Thy blessed state shall euerlasting last.
Liue still, as euer in thy Makers sight,
And let Repentance purge thy vices past.
Remember thou must drink of deaths sharpe cup,
And of thy Stewardship account giue vp.
(81)
Had'st thou the beauty of faire Absolon,
Or did thy strength the strength of Sampson passe:
Or could thy wisedome match wise Salomon,
Or might thy riches Cressus wealth surpasse;
Or were thy pompe beyond great Babylon,
(The proudest Monarchy that euer was,)
Yet Beauty, Wisedome, Riches, Strength, and State,
Age, Death, and Time, will spoils and [...].
(82)
Make of the World, no more then as it is,
A vale of Cares, of miseries, and woes:
Thinke of it, as the sinke of all amisse,
That blinds our Sences with deceiuing showes:
Account it as a den of balefull blisse,
The which (vnthought of) all estates o'rethrowes,
How Satan in it beares a Lordly sway,
And how none but his subiects it obey.
(83)
And whilst thou runn'st this transitory race,
Vse well the blessings God to thee hath sent:
Doe Good with them whilst thou hast time & space,
And know they are but things vnto thee lent.
Know that thou must appeare before Gods face,
To answer if they well, or ill be spent.
If thou hast spent them well, then heau'n is thine,
If ill, th'art damn'd to hell, by doome Diuine.
(84)
But ten times happy shall that Steward be,
Which at the last the Lord shall faithfull finde:
Heart, tongue or eyes, cannot thinke, speake, or see
The glory that to him shall be assignde.
He shall out-passe the Angells in degree,
He shall out-shine all Starres that euer shinde.
He shall for euer, and for euer sing
Eternall prayses to his God and King.
(85)
Vnto which God the Father, first and last,
Whose goodnes, all conseru's, preseru's, and seeds:
To God the Sonne, whose merits downe hath cast
Sinne, death, and hell, (due vnto sinners meeds.)
To thee O Holy Ghost, that euer wast
The blessing that from Sire, and Sonne proceeds;
And to the vn-deuided Three in One,
All Power, and Praise, and Glory be alone.
FINIS.

TO THE TRVELY VVORTHY, AND RIGHT HONOVRABLE IOHN MORAY, L. VISCOVNT ANNAN, EARLE OF Annandale, one of the Gentlemen of his Maiesties Royall Bed-chamber; Earths Honours, and Heauens happinesse.

THis Booke, (Good Sir) the issue of my braine,
Though farre vnworthy of your worthy view,
Yet I in duty offer it to you,
In hope you Gently it will entertaine.
And though the Method and the Phrase be plaine,
Not Artlike writ, as to the stile is due,
Yet is it voyde of any thing vntrue;
And truth, I know, your fauour shall obtaine.
The many fauours I from you haue had,
Hath forc'd me thus to shew my thankefull minde:
And of all faults, I know no vice so bad
And hatefull, as ingratefully inclinde.
A thankefull Heart, is all a poore mans pelfe,
Which, (with this Booke) I giue your Worthy Selfe.
Your Worships, euer most obliged, IOHN TAYLOR.

THE SEVERALL SIEGES, ASSAVLTS, SACKINGS, AND FINALL DESTRVCTION OF the Famous, Ancient, and memorable Citty of IERVSALEM.

THe Iustice, Mercy, and the Might I sing
Of heau'ns inst, mercifull, Almighty KING.
By whose fore-knowledge all things were elected,
Whose power hath all things made, & al protected,
Whose Mercies flood hath quencht his Iustice flame,
Who was, is, shall be One, and still the same.
Who in the Prime, when all things first began,
Made all for Man, and for himselfe made Man.
Made, not begotten, or of humane birth,
No Sire but God, no Mother but the Earth;
Who ne'r knew Childhood, of the [...]ucking teate,
But at the first was made a man compleat.
Whose inward Soule, in God-like forme did shine
As Image of the Maiestie Diuine.
Whose supernaturall wisedome, (beyond Nature)
Did name each sensible, and sencelesse creature,
And from whose Star-like, Sand-like Generation,
Sprung euery Kindred, Kingdome, Tribe, and Nation.
All people then, one language spake alone,
Interpreters the world then needed none:
There liued then no learned deepe Grammarians,
There were no Turkes, no Scythians, no Tartarians,
Then all was one, and one was onely all
The language of the vniuersall Ball.
Then if a Traueller had gone as farre
As from the Artick to th' Antartick starre,
If he from Boreas vnto Auster went,
Or from the Orient to th' Occident,
Which way soeuer he did [...] or minde,
He had beene sure his Country-man to find.
One hundred, thirty winters since the Flood,
The Earth one onely language vnderstood:
Vntill the sonne of Cush, the sonne of Cham,
A proud cloud-scaling Towre began to frame,
Trusting that if the world againe were drown'd,
He in his lofty building might rest sound;
All future Floods, he purposd to preuent,
Aspiring to Heau'ns glorious Battlement.
But high Iehouah, with a puff was able
To make ambitious Babel out a bable.
(For what is man, that he should dare resist
The great Almighties pow'r, who in his fist
Doth gripe Eternity, and when he please
Can make, and vnmake, Heau'n, and Earth, & Seas?)
For in their expectation of conclusion,
He plag'd them all with sundry Tongues confusion.
Such Gibrish Gibble Gabble all did tangle,
Some laugh, some fret, all prate, all diffring wrangle;
One calls in Hebrew to his working Mate,
And he in Welch Glough whe [...] Comrage doth prate.
Another gapes in English, or in Scotch,
And they are answer'd in the French or Dutch,
Caldaicke, Syriacke, and Arabian,
Greeke, Latine, Tuscan, and Armenian,
The Transiluaniae, and Hungarian,
The Persian, and the rude Barbarian;
All these, and diuers more then I can number,
Misunderstanding tongues did there incumber.
Thus he that sits in Heau'n their plots derided,
And in their height of pride, their tongues deuided.
For in this sudden vnexpected chang,
The wife and husband, Sire and sonne were strange,
The Brother could not vnderstand the Brother,
The Daughter stands amazed at her Mother,
By euery one a seuerall part is acted,
And each vnto the other seemesdistracted.
Thus by the iustice of the Lord of Hosts
Each seuerall tongue was driu'n to seuerall coasts,
And GOD (peculiar) to himselfe did chuse
His most beloued, yet hard-hearted Iewes.
Iehouahs honor with them then did dwetl,
His name was onely knowne in Israel,
[Page 11] Salem his habitation was of yore,
In Sion men his Glory did adore.
Th' Eternall Trine, and Trine Eternall One
In Iury then was called on alone,
The sonnes of Heber, were the adopted stocke,
Gods onely Chosen, holy sacred Flocke,
Amongst all Nations, them he onely lik'd,
And for his owne vse, them he culd and pik'd;
Them his sin-killing, sauing word he gaue
T'instruct them, what condemn'd, and what would saue,
To them he gaue his word, his Couenants band,
His Patriarks his Prophets, and his hand
Did blesse, defend, instruct, correct, and guide
The Iewes and no one Nation else beside.
For them, a world of wonders hath he done,
To them, he sent his best begotten Sonne,
On them, a Land he freely did bestow,
Where milke and hony plentiously did flow,
With them he was, till they from him did turne,
And wilfully against his blessings spurne;
All heau'nly earthly Soules, or Bodies good
They lack'd no temp'rall, or eternall food.
His Temple builded in Ierusalem,
Where he had daily sacrifice from them,
Where though their seruice was defect and lame,
Th' Almighties mercy did accept the same.
(For though Mans sin is great, God hath decreed
To take his best endeuour for a deed.)
And whilst they in his loue and feare abode,
They were his people, he their gracious God.
But when impieties began to breed
And ouergrow old Iacobs sacred seed,
When they from good to bad began to fall,
From ill to worse, from worst, to worst of all,
When Gods great mercies could not them allure,
And his sharp threatnings could not them procure,
When each ones body was vnto the soule
A lothsome Dungeon, to a prisoner foule.
When sin (al shamelesse) the whole Land o'rspreads,
Then God threw dreadful vengeance on their heads:
And for their heynous heaping sin on sin,
Ierusalem hath oft assaulted bin.
First, Shishak, Egypts King, with might and maine
Made hauock there, in Rehoboams Raigne;
The Citty, Temple, Golden vessels, Shielas,
All (as a prey) to the Egyptians yeelds.
Next loas came, the King of Israel,
In Amaziahs, dayes with fury fell;
He brought Iudea to Samariaes thrall,
King, Kingdome, Princes, Peeres, and people all.
Then thirdly, Rezin King of Aram came
In Abaz time, with sword and furious flame.
Th' Assyrian great Zonach'rib was the next,
By whom good Hezekiab was perplext.
But when blasphemous Pagans, (puft with pride)
Contemptuously the God of gods deside,
The Lord of Lor [...]s (whom no pow'r can withstand)
Tooke his owne gracious, glorious cause in hand,
He vs'd no humane Arme, or speare, or sword,
But with his All-commanding mighty Word,
One Angell sent to grisly Plutoes den,
A hundred, eighty, and fiue thousand men.
Then fiftly was Ierusalem subdude,
In Iudaes blood, th' [...]yrians hands imbrude,
Manasses godlesse Glory did expire,
All yeeld vnto th' insulting foes desire;
Vsurping Conquest all did seaze vpon,
The King in chaines-bound, sent to Babylon,
Till he (repenting) to his God did call.
Who heard his cry, and freed him out of thrall.
Then sixtly, Pharaob-Necho Egypts King,
To great distresse all Iudaes Land did bring,
With fell confusion all the Kingdome fill'd,
And (with a Dart) good King Iosias kill'd.
The Shepheard, for his wandring sheep was strook,
The godly Prince, from godlesse people tooke;
So this iust, zealous, and religious Prince,
(Whose like scarce euer Raign'd before, or since)
Th' Almighty (to himselfe) did take agen,
As knowing him too good for such bad men.
Nabuchadnezer, next made them obey,
When Zedekiah did the Scepter sway:
King, Kingdome, Peeres, and people, all o'rethrown,
All topsie-turuy, spoyld, and tumbled downe;
The curst Caldeans did the King surprize,
Then slew his Sons, and next pluck'd out his eyes:
Then vnto Babylon he was conuayde,
In Chaines, in Priso, and in Darknesse layde,
Till death his Corps, did from his soule deuide,
He liu'd a slaue, and sadly, gladly dyde.
The Citty, and the Temple burnt and spoyld,
With all pollution euery place was soyld;
The holy vessels all away were borne,
The sacred Garments which the Priests had worne,
All these the Caldees, (voyde of all remorce)
Did cary vnto Babylon perforce.
Which, seuenty yeeres, in slauery and much woe
They kept, and would by no meanes let them goe,
Till Persian Cyrus did Earths glory gaine,
Who freed the Iewes, and sent them home againe;
He rendred backe their vessels and their store,
And bad them build their Temple vp once more.
Which many yeeres in glorious state did stand,
Till Piolomy the King of Egypts band
Surpriz'd the Iewes, and made them all obey,
Assaulting them vpon the Sabbath day.
Next after that, from Rome great Pompey came,
And Iudaes force, by force, perforce did tame:
Then did the Caesars beare the earthly sway,
The vniuersall world did them obey.
And after that, the Romane pow'r did place
The Idumean Herods gracelesse Grace,
[Page 12]Him they created Tetrarch (demy King)
'Gainst whom the Iewes did boldly spurne and [...]ling,
For they had sworne that none but Dauids seed
In the seat Royall euer should succeed.
But Sossius, and King Herods Armies strength
Did ouer-run them all in breadth and length,
By hostile Armes they did them all prouoke,
To beare the burthen of their awfull yoke.
And lastly, when the Romanes ouer-run
By valiant Titus, old Vespasians sonne;
Then fell they to an vnrecouer'd wane,
They all in generall, were or slaine or tane,
Then was the extirpation of them all,
Their iust, worst, last, most fatall, finall fall.
Thus mercy (being mock'd) pluckd iudgmēt down,
Gods fauour being scorn'd, prouokes his frowne;
Aboue all Nations he did them respect,
Below all Nations he did them deiect;
Most vnto them his fauour was addicted,
Most vpon them his fury was inflicted;
Most neere, most deare, they were to him in loue,
And farthest off his wrath did them remoue;
He blest, he curst, he gaue, and then he tooke
As they his Word obeyde, or else forsooke.
How oft Iebouab seem'd his sword to draw
To make them feare his precepts and his Law,
How oft he raisd them, when they hedlong fell,
How oft he pardond, when they did rebell,
How long did Mercy shiue, and Iustice winke,
When their foule crimes before Gods face did stinke!
How oft Repentance, like a pleasing sauour,
Repurchasd Gods abused gracious fauour!
When he did blessings vpon blessings heape,
Then they (ingratefull) held them meane and cheape,
Their plenty made them too too much secure,
They their Creators yoke would not endure.
They (gracelesse) fell from goodnesse & from grace,
And kick'd and spurn'd at Heau'ns most glorious face.
The Prophets, and the Seers that were sent
To warne them to amendment, & repent,
They ston'd, they kill'd, they scorn'd, they heat, they bound,
Their goodnesse to requite, their spight did wound.
The Prophets came with loue, and purchas'd hate,
They offred peace, and were return'd debate;
They came to saue, and were vniustly spill'd,
They brought them life, and were vnkindly kill'd,
No better entertainment they afford
Vnto the Legates of their louing Lord.
Thus were the Lab'rers in GODS Vineyard vsde,
Thus was their loue, their care, their paines abusde;
Their toyles and trauailes had no more regard,
Bonds, death, and tortures, was their best reward.
At last th' Almighty from his glorious seat
Perceiu'd his seruants they so ill intreat,
No more would send a Prophet or a Seer,
But his owne Sonne, which he esteem'd most deare.
He left his high Tribunall, and downe came,
And for all Glory, enterchang'd all shame,
All mortall miseries he vnderwent
To cause his loued-louelesse Iewes repent;
By Signes, by Wonders, and by Miracles,
By Preaching, Parables, and Oracles,
He wrought, & sought, their faithlesse faith to cure
But euer they obdurate did endure.
Our blest Redeemer came vnto his owne,
And 'mongst them neither was receiu'd or knowne;
He whom of all they should haue welcom'd best,
They scorn'd and hated more then all the rest.
The GOD of principalities and pow'rs,
A Sea of endlesse, boundlesse mercy, showres
Vpon the heads of these vnthankefull men,
Who pay loue, hate; and good with ill agen.
Their murdrous-minded-malice neuer lest,
Till they the Lord of life, of life bereft;
No tongue, or pen, can speake, or write the story
Of the surpassing high immortall glory,
Which he (in pitty and in loue) forsooke,
When he on him our fraile weake nature tooke.
To saue Mans soule, his most esteemed [...]era,
And bring it to the new Ierusalem,
From Greatest great, to least of least he fell
For his belouee chosen Israel.
But they more mad then madnesse, in behauiour,
Laid cursed hands vpon our blessed Sauiour.
They kill'd th'ternall Sonne and Heirs of Heau'n,
By whom, and from whom, all our liues are giu'n,
For which the great Almighty did refuse.
Disperse, and quite forsake the saithlesse Iewes;
And in his Iustice great omnipotence
He left them to a reprobated sence.
Thus sundry times these people fell and rose.
From weale to want, from height of ioyes to wo [...]
As they their gracious GOD forsooke, or tooke,
His mercy either tooke them, or forsooke.
The swart Egyptians, and the Isralites,
And raging Rezin King of Aramnes,
Then the Assyrians twice, and then againe
Th' Egyptians ouer-run them all amaine;
Then the Caldeans, and once more there came
Egyptian Ptolomy, who them o'recame.
Then Pompey, next King Herod, last of all,
Vespasian was their vniuersall fall.
As in Assyria Monarchy began,
They lost it to the warlike Persian,
Of Ni [...]rods Race, a Race of Kings descended,
Till in Astiages his stocke was ended;
For Cyrus vnto Persia did translate
Th' Assyrian Soueraigne Monarchizing state.
Then after many bloody bruzing Armes
The Persian yeelded to the Greekes Alarm's,
But (smoake-like) Grecian glory last [...]d not,
Before 'twas ripe, it did vntimely rot.
[Page 13]The worlds Commander, Alexander dyde,
And his Successors did the world deuide;
From one great Monarch, in a moment springs
Confusion ( Hydr [...]-like) from selfe-made Kings,
Till they (all wearied) slaughter'd and forlorne,
Had all the earth dismembred, rent and to [...]rne;
The Romanes tooke [...]duantage of their fall,
And ouer-run, captiu'de, and conquerd all.
Thus as one nayle another out doth driue,
The Persians the Assyrians did depriue;
The Gracians then the Persian pride did tame,
The Romanes then the Graecians ouercame,
Whilst like a vapor all the world was tost,
And Kingdomes wer transferd from coast to coast;
And still the Iewes in scartred multitudes
Deliuer'd were to sundry seruitudes,
Chang'd, giuen, bought, & sold, from land to land,
Where they not vnderstood, nor vnderstand.
To euery Monarchy they were mad slaues,
Egypt and Aram, Caldea them out-braues;
Assyria, Persia, Gracia, lastly Rome
Inuaded them, by heauens iust angry doome.
Four Ages did like [...] of [...] Heler passe,
[...]
[...] Age, [...] [...]
T [...] and reuerend Iudges did decide,
[...]he third by Kings, [...] [...]ght [...] he, [...], bad, wor [...], and [...].
The [...] by Prophets, who them blest or carst,
As their dread [...] [...]mmanded, or forbid
To blesse, or curse, [...] [...]o the Prophets did.
Our Sa [...]r, weeping on the [...], did view
The C [...], and [...]retold what [...]ould [...];
And in his [...]ender pirty [...]
Said, Oh IERVSALEM, IERVSALEM,
Thou ill'st the Prophets, [...] death didst ding,
Those that were lent, thee [...] grace to bring,
How oft, and oft, would [...] (for your owne good)
Haue gathered you, as doth a [...]n her brood!
But you would not: and the [...] to you all
Your houses shall to deso [...] on fall.
Which came to passe, according; as he said,
Which in the second part is here displaide.

THE LAST AND MOST LAMENTABLE Destruction of the Ancient, Famous, and Memorable Citty and Temple of IERVSALEM; being destroyed by VESPASIAN, and his Sonne TITVS.

COnfusion, Horror, Terror, dreadfull Wars,
Demesticke, for raigne, inward, outward Iars,
Shafts shot at Iuda in Ie [...]ouahs ire,
Infectious plague, war, famine, sword, and fire,
Depopulation, desolation, and
The fiuall conquest of old Iacobs Land.
These are the Theames my mournfull Muse re­hearses,
These are the grounds of my lamenting Verses.
Iosephus wrote these things in ample wise,
Which [...] thus briefly doe Epitomize:
Which worthy Author in large scope relates
His Countries alterations, and estates.
The Bookes of his Antiquities doe tell,
How oftentimes th'arse, how oft they fell,
How oft God fauour'd them, how oft his frowne
From height of greatnes cast them headlong down,
The Seuenth booke of his Warres declareth plaine,
How Roman Conquest did the Kingdome gaine,
How death did tyrannize in sundry [...]apes,
In sword, in fire, in famine, and in R [...]e.
Who loues to reade at large, let him reade [...] is,
Who likes compendious briefes, let him read this.
Since Hebers sonnes the Country first enioyde,
Sixe times it hath beene wasted and destroyde,
Twice three times spoyld, and thirteen times in all,
Wars force, or Composition made it thrall,
Compare all wars, that chanc'd since the Creation,
They all are nothing to their desolation;
No story, or no memory describes
Calamity to match old Isr'els Tribes:
For if each Land the bloody broyles recount,
(To them) 'twere but a mole-hill to a Mou [...]t:
[Page 14]All which (for sin) in the Almighties fury
Was heap'd vpon the sinfull Land of Iury:
And almost sixteene hundred winters since
Did great Vespasian, Romes Imperiall Prince,
With braue young Titus, his stout valiant son,
Iudeaes King dome spoyle and ouer-run.
And with an Army Royall, and renound,
They did Ierusalem beleaguer round.
With force, with stratagems, with warlike powers,
With Rams, with Engines, scaling ladders, Towres,
With all the Art of either might or sleight,
The Romanes vpon each aduantage wait.
Whil'st the besieged, that within did dwell,
Amongst themselues to fell sedition fell;
"Like neigh'bring bauins, lying neere each other,
"One burnes, and burning each one burne another;
So did the Iewes each other madly kill,
And all the streets with their slayne corpses fill.
Eleazer, Simon, Iohn, all disagree
And rend Ierusalem in pieces three.
These each contending who should be the chiefe,
(More then the Romans) caus'd their Coūtries griefe.
Iohn scorn'd Eleazer should be his superior,
And Eleazer thought Iohn his inferior;
And Simon scornd them both, and each did scorne
By any to be rul'd, or ouer-borne;
The Citty sundred thus in triple factions,
Most horrid, bloody, and inhumane actions
Were still committed, all impieties,
(In sundry sorts of vile varieties)
All sacrilegious and vngodly acts
Were counted Noble meritorious facts.
They striu'd each other to surpasse in euill,
And labor'd most, most how to serue the Deuill.
These men, of grace and goodnesse had no thought,
But daily, madly 'gainst each other fought.
They hurly burly all things ouerturn'd,
Their store-houses with victuals down they burn'd,
With hearts more hard then Adamantine rocks,
They drailed Virgins by the Amber locks;
The Reuerend Aged they did rend and teare
About the streets by snowie ancient haire;
Yong Infants, some their harmlesse braines dash out,
And some on points of Launces borne about,
That 'tis not possible to write with pen,
The barb'rous outrage of these deuillish men:
For they (vnmindfull of the Romane force)
Themselues did waste & spoyle without remorce.
Their cruel slaughters made their furious foes
Relent and weepe, in pitty of their woes,
Whil'st they (relentlesse Villaines) voyde of pitty
Consume, and ruinate their Mother-Citty.
The Channels all with purple gore o'r-flowde,
The streetes with murdred carkasses were strowde:
The Temple with vnhallowed hand defilde,
Respect was none, to age, sexe, man, or childe;
Thus this three-headed, hellish multitude
Did waste themselues, themselues themselues sub­dude,
Whil'st they within still made their strength more weak,
The Roman Rams th'opposed walls did break:
Whose dreadfull battry, made the Citty tremble,
At which the Factious all their powers assemble,
And all together (like goods friends) vnite
And 'gainst their foes they sally forth and sight.
"Like a swolne Riuer, bounded in with banks
"Opposed long, with Pike-like Reedy Ranks,
"At last th'ambitious torrent breaks his bounds,
"And ouer-runs whole Lordships, and confounds
"The liuing and the liuelesse, that dares bide
"The fury of his high-insulting pride.
Euen so the Iewes from out the Citty venter'd,
And like a s [...]ood the Romane Army enter'd,
O'rwhelming in their desp'rate madnesse all
That durst withstand them, or assault the wall.
They set the fearefull Engines all on fire,
And brauely fighting made their foes retire;
The battell done, back came these hare-braind men,
And each the others foe deuide agen.
Pell mell confusion, then againe began,
All order straight vnto disorder ran;
Their corne and victuals, all consum'd with fire,
Their hunger-starued bodies 'gin to tire,
Prouision in a moment, spoyld and wasted,
Which kept (might well) for many yeeres haue lasted.
Then Famine, like a Tyrant roames and rages,
Makes faint (yet furious) hauock of all ages,
The rich, the poore, the old, the young, all dyes,
All staru'd, and fleshlesse bare Anatomies,
This was a plague of plagues, a woe of woes,
On euery side their death did them inclose,
But yet the manner how to lose their breaths,
Did more torment them then an host of deaths.
To sally forth, the Romanes shed their blood,
To stay within, they starue for want of food,
And if they would goe forth, the gates were shut,
And if they staid within, their throats were cut:
That if they stay, or goe, or goe, or stay,
Th'are sure to meet destruction euery way;
But of all torments, hunger is the worst,
For through the stony walls (they say) 'twill burst;
These people with warre, woe, and want, beset,
Did striue how they might to the Romanes get,
They hopde to finde more mercy in their swords,
Then their still-dying famisht state affords.
Mans wit is sharpest when he is opprest,
And wisedome (amongst euils) likes the least.
They knew Vespasian for a Noble foe,
And one that did not glory in their woe,
They thought it best his [...]lemency to try,
And not immurde with hungry famine dye.
Resolued thus (dispairing in their hopes)
A number slyding downe the walls with ropes,
[Page 15]Fled vnto Tytus, who bemoand their case,
Relieuing them, and tooke them to his Grace.
Thus forty thousand neere with famine strau'd,
Were all vnhop'd for, by their f [...]s preseru'd
The Cittie Soldiers search'd each house to see
Where any victuals might conuayed be,
And if they any found, they thought it fit
To beat the owners for concealing it.
But if they saw a man looke plumpe and fat,
His throat they presently would cut for that,
They thought him too much pampered too well fed,
And to saue meat and drinke, they strike him dead.
Some men and women, Rich and Nobly borne,
Graue all they had for one poore strike of corne,
And hid themselues and it below the ground,
In some close vault they [...]at the same vn-ground.
If any could get flesh, they eat it raw,
The stronger still, the weakest ouer-awe,
For hunger banisht naturall respect,
It made the husband his owne wife reiect,
The wife doth snatch the meat from out his hand
Which would and should hir loue and life cōmand.
All pitty from the Mother was exilde
She teares and takes the victuals from her Childe,
The Childe doth with the Parents play the thiefe,
Steales all their food, and lets them pine in griefe.
Nor Free or Bond-man, Fathers, nor yet Mothers,
Wiues, Husbands, seruants, masters, sisters, brothers,
Propinquitie or strong Affinitie,
Nor all the rights of Consanguinitie,
No Law, or Rule, or Reason could beare sway,
Where strength cōmands, there weaknes must obey.
The pining seruant will no master know,
The son his father will no duty show,
The Commons did no Magistrate regard,
Each one for one, and but for one he carde,
Disordred, like the cart before the horse,
All reu'rence and respect did yeeld to force.
These Miscreants with vigilance all watch'd
Where they could see a doore, or lock'd or latch'd,
There they supposd the people were at meat,
And in their outrage ope the doores they beat,
Where entring, if they found them feeding fast,
From out their throats they teare the meat in haste,
Halfe eaten, halfe vneaten, they constraine
The wretched people cast it vp againe.
They halde them by the eares the house about,
To force them bring supposed victuals out;
Some by the thumbs hang'd vp, some by the toes,
Some prick'd with bodkins, some with many blows
Tormented were, to force them to reueale
Meat, when they had not any to conceale.
Now all was fish that fell into the net,
And all was food that fraud or force could get;
Grasse; hay, barke, leaues of trees, and Dogs, and Cats,
Toads, frogs, wormes, snailes, flies, maggots, mice and rats,
All filthy stinking and contagious rootes,
The couer of their Coaches, shooes, and bootes.
All vermine, and the dung of fowles and beasts,
Were these poore wretches miserable feasts;
Things loathsome to be nam'd in time of plenty,
Amongst the f [...]am'd distressed Iewes were dainty.
This famine ran beyond all Natures bounds,
All motherly affection it confounds,
No blood or birth, with it compassion won,
It forc'd a Woman kill her onely Son,
She rip'd him and dis-ioynted lim from lim,
She drest, she boyld, she broyld, and rosted him,
She eat him, she inter'd him in her wombe,
She made his births place his vntimely tombe.
From her (by Nature) did his life proceed,
On him (vnnaturall) she her selfe did seed,
He was her flesh, her sinews, bones and blood,
She (eating him) herselfe, herselfe made food.
No wee her miserie can equallize,
No griefe can match her sad calamities,
The Soldiers smelt the meat and straight assemble,
Which whē they saw (with horror) made thē trēble
Each one with staring haire, and ghastly looke,
Affrighted, and amaz'd, the house forsooke
This horride action, quickly ouercame
These men, whom force of man could neuer tame.
Thou that dost liue like to a fatted Brawne,
And cramst thy guts as long as thou canst yawne,
Thou that dost eat and drinke away thy time,
Accounting Gluttony a God, no Crime,
Thou must haue Fowle as high as heau'n that pearc'd
And hast the bowels of the Ocean search'd,
And from all places neere so farre re [...]ote,
Hast dainties for thy all-deuouring throat,
Whose pamperd paunch ne'r leaues to feed & quaff,
Till it be made a Hogs trogh, fill'd with draff.
Thinke on Ierusalem amidst thy Riot,
Perhaps 'twill moue thee to a temp'rate diet.
And you braue Dames, adorn'd with Iems, & Iewels,
That must haue Cawdles, Cullisses and Grewels,
Conser [...]'s and Marchpanes, made in sundry shapes,
As Castles, Towres, Horses, Beares and Apes,
You, whom no Cherries like your lick rish tooth,
But they must be a Pound a pound forsooth,
Thinke on Ierusalem amidst you glory,
And then you'le be lesse dainty, and more sorry.
What there auaild their beauty, strength, or riches,
(Three things which all the spacious world bewit­ches
Authoritie and Honor help'd them not,
Wrong trod downe Right, and Iustice was forgot,
Their greatest, chiefest, only earthly good
Was ('twas no matter how they g [...]t it) Food.
One little piece of bread they reckond more
Then erst they did of bags of Gold before,
One scrap, which full fed corps away doe [...]ling,
With them, had bin a ransom for a Kin.
[Page 16]The lothsome garbadge which our Dogs refuse
Had bin a dish of state amongst the Iewes.
Whilst Famine playd the Tyrant thus within,
The Romane Army striu'd the walls to win,
Their Enginers, their Pioners and all
Did mine and [...]atter, and assault the wall.
Ierusalem had three strong walls of stone,
And long 'twas ere the Romans could get one,
The dearth and death of sword and famine spred
The streets, that liuing trod vpon the dead,
And many great mens houses full were fill'd
With carkases, which the seditious kill'd:
That with the stench of bodies putrifide,
A number numberles of people dyde.
And buriall to the dead they yeelded not,
But where they fell, they let them stinke and rot,
That plague, and sword, and famine, all three stroue
Which should most bodies frō their soules remoue.
Vnsensible of one anothers woes,
The Soldiers then the liueles corpses throwes
By hundreds and by thousands o're the walls,
Which when the Romans saw their dismall falls
They told to Titus, which when he perceiu'd
He wept, and vp t'ward heau'n his hands he heau'd,
And called on GOD to witnes with him this,
These slaughters were no thought, or fault of his.
Those wretches that could scape from out the City,
Amongst their foes found [...]oth reliefe and pity.
If the seditious any catch that fled,
Without remorse they straitway strook him dead.
Another misery I must vnfold,
A many Iewes had swallow'd store of gold,
Which they supposd should help them in their need
But from this treasure did their [...]a [...]e proceed.
For being by their en'mies fed and cherisht,
The gold was cause that many of them perisht;
Amongst them all, one poore vnhappy creature
Went priuatly to doe the need; of Nature,
And in his Ordure for the Gold did looke,
Where being by the straggling soldiers tooke,
They ript him vp and searcht his maw, to finde
What Gold or Treasure there remain'd behind.
In this sort, (whilst the soldiers gap'd for gaine)
Was many a man and woman ript and slaine.
In some they found gold, and in many none,
For had they gold, or not gold, all was one,
They were vnboweld by the barb'rous foe,
And search'd if they had any gold or no.
But now my Story briefly to conclude,
Vespasians forces had the walls subdude,
And his triumphant Banner was displaide
Amidst the streets, which made the Iewes dismaid,
Who (desp'rate) to the Temple did retire,
Which (with vngodly hands) they set on fire.
Whilst Noble Titus, with exceeding care
Entreated them they would their Temple spare,
Oh saue that house (quoth he) ô quench, oh slake,
And I will spare you for that Houses sake,
Oh let not after-times report a Storie
That you haue burnt the worlds vnmatched glory,
For your owne sakes, your children, and your wiues
If you doe looke for pardon for your liues,
If you expect grace from Vespasians hand,
Then saue your Temple Titus doth command.
The Iewes with hearts hard, offred mercy heard,
But neither mercy, or themselues regard,
They burnd, and in their madnes did confound
King Salomons great Temple to the ground.
That Temple which did thirty millions cost,
Was in a moment all consum'd and lost,
The blest Sanctum Sanctorum, holiest place
Blest oft with high Iehouahs sacred Grace,
Where (at one offring) as the Text sayes plaine,
Were two and twenty thousand Oxen slaine,
One hundred twenty thousand Sheepe beside
At the same time for an oblation dide.
That house of God (which raignes aboue the thun­der)
Whose glorious fame made all the world to wōder,
Was burnt and ransackt, spight of humane aide,
And leuell with the lowly ground was laid.
Which when Vespasian and young Titus saw,
They cride kill, kill, vse speed and marshall Lavv;
The Roman soldiers then (inspirde with rage)
Spard none, slew all, respect no sex or age;
The streets were drowned in a purple flood,
And slaughterd carcasses did swim in blood.
They slew, whilst there were any left to slay,
The ablest men, for slaues they bare away.
Iohn, Simon and Eleazer, wicked fiends,
As they deseru'd, were brought to violent ends.
And from the time the Romanes did begin
The siege, vntill they did the Citty win,
Sedition, sword, fire, famine, all depriues
Eleuen hundred thousand, of their liues.
Besides one hundred thousand at the least
Were tane, and sold, as each had beene a beast.
And from the time it was at first erected
Till (by the Remanes it was last deiected)
It stood (as it in histories appeares)
Twenty one hundred, seuenty and nine yeeres.
But yet ere God his vengeance downe did throw,
What strange prodigious wonders did he show,
As warnings how they should destruction shun
And cause them to repent for deeds misdon;
First the Firmament, Th'offended Lord
Shewd them a Comet like a fiery sword,
The Temple and the Altar diuers nights
Were all enuiron'd with bright burning lights,
And in the middest of the Temple there
Vnnat'rally a Cow a Lambe did beare,
The Temples brazen gate, no bolts restraine,
But (of it selfe) it open flew amaine.
[Page 17]Arm'd Men and Chariots in the Ayre assembled,
The pondrous Earth, affrighted, quak'd, & trembled,
A voyce cride in the Temple, to this sence,
Let vs depart, let vs depart from hence.
These supernat'rall accidents, in summe.
Foretold some fearefull iudgement was to come:
But yet the Iewes accounted them as toyes,
Or scarcrow bugg [...]beares to fright wanton [...]oyes,
Secure they reuell'd in Ierusalem
They thought these signes against their foes, not them
But yet when [...] and death had all perform'd,
When ruine, spoyle, & furious flames had storm'd,
Who then the desolated place had seene,
Would not haue knowne there had a Citty beene.
Thus Iuda and Ierusalem all fell,
Thus was fulfill'd what Christ did once foretell,
Sad deseletion, all their ioyes bereft,
And one stone on another was not left.
FINIS.

TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE AND TRVELY VER I VOVS LADY, and Noble Patronesse of good endeauours, MARY, Countesse of BVCKINGHAM.

Right Honourable Madame:

AS the Graces, the Vertues, the Senses, and the Muses, are emblem'd, or alluded to your Noble sex, and as all these haue ample residence in your worthy disposition: To whom then but to your selfe, being a Lady in goodnesse compleat, should I commit the patronage of the memory of the great Lady of La­dies, Mother to the High and Mighty Lord of Lords? And though I (a Taylor) haue not apparell'd her in such garments of elocution and ornated stile, as befits the glory and eminen­cy of the least part of her Excellency, yet I beseech your Honor to accepther for your owne worth, and her Sonnes worthinesse, which Son of hers, by his owne merits, and the powerfull mercy of his Father, I heartily implore to giue your Honour a participation of his gracious Mothers eternall felicity.

Your Honours in all humble seruice to be commanded, IOHN TAYLOR.

The Argument and cause of this Poem.

BEing lately in Antwerpe, it was my fortune to ouerlooke an old printed booke in prose, which I haue turned into verse, of the life, death, and bu­riall of our blessed Lady: wherein I read many things worthy of obser­uation, and many things friuolous and impertinent; out of which I haue (like a Bee) suckt the sacred honey of the best authorities of Scrip­tures, and Fathers which I best credited, and I haue left the poyson of Antichristianisme to those where I found it, (whose stomackes can bet­ter digest it) I haue put it to the Presse, presuming it shall be accepted of Pious Protestants, and charitable Catholikes: as for luke-warme Nutarlists, that are neither hot nor cold, they doe offend my appetite, and therefore vp with them. The Schismaticall Separaust, I haue many times discourst with him, and though hee be but a Botcher, or a But­ton-maker, and at the most a lumpe of opinionated ignorance, yet he will seeme to wring the Scriptures to his opinions, and presume to know more of the mysteries of Religion, then any of our reuerend learned Bishops and Doctors.

I know this worke will be vnrelished in the pestiferous pallats of the dogmaticall Amster­dammarists, but I doe, must, and will, acknowledge a most reuerend honour and regard vnto the sacred memory of this blessed Virgin Lady, Mother of our Lord and Redeemer IESVS; and in my thoughts she shall euer haue superlatiue respect aboue all Angels, Principalities, Patriarkes, Prophets, Apostles, Euangelists, or Saints whatsoeuer, vnder the blessed Trini­ty; yet (mistake me not, as there is a difference betwixt the immortali Creator, and a mor­tall creature, so (whilst I haue warrant sufficient from God himselfe, to inuocate his name onely) I will not giue Man, Saint, or Angell, any honour that may bee derogatory to his Eter­nall Maiestie.

As amongst women she was blest aboue all, being aboue all, full of Grace, so amongst Saints. I beleeue she is supreme in Glory: and it is an infallible truth, that as the Roma­nists doe dishonour her much, by their superstitious honourable seeming attributes; so on the other part, it is hellish and odious to God and good men, either to forget her, or (which is wor [...]e) to remember her with impure thoughts, or vnbeseeming speech for the excellency of so Diuine a Creature. I confesse my selfe the meanest of men, and most vnworthy of all to write of her, that was the best of Women: but my hope is, that Charity will couer my faults, and accept of my good meaning, especially hauing endeuoured and striuen to doe my best: So wishing all hearts to giue this holy Virgin such honour as may be pleasing to God, which is, that all should patterne their liues, to her liues example, in lowlinesse and humility, and then they shall be exalted, where she is in Glory with eternity.

IOHN TAYLOR.

THE LIFE AND DEATH OF THE MOST BLESSED AMONGST ALL VVOMEN, THE VIRGIN MARY, The Mother of our Lord IESVS CHRIST.

BEfore the fire, ayre, water, earth were fram'd,
Sunne, Moone, or any thing vnnam'd, or naun'd,
God was, who ne'r shal end, nor ne'r began,
To whom all ages and all time's a span:
By whose appointment each thing fades or growes,
And whose eternall knowledge all things knowes.
When Adams sinne pluck'd downe supernall lre,
And Iustice iudg'd him to infernall fire:
The Mercy did the execution stay,
And the great price of mans great debt did pay.
And as a Woman tempted Man to vice.
For which they both were thrust from Paradise:
So from a woman was a Sauiours birth,
That purchas'd Man a Heauen for losse of earth:
Our blest Redeemers Mother, that blest Shee,
Before the World by God ordain'd to be
A chosen vessell fittest of all other,
To be the Sonne of Gods most gracious Mother:
She is the Theame that doth my Muse inuite,
Vnworthy of such worthinesse to write.
I will no prayers nor inuocations frame,
For intercession to this heau'nly Dame,
Nor to her name one fruitlesse word shall runne,
To be my Mediatresse to her Sonne,
But to th'eternall Trinity alone,
Ile sing, He sigh, He inuocate and mone.
I prize no creatures glory at that rate,
The great Creators praise t'extenuate.
But to th' Almighty,( ancunt of all dayes,)
Be all dominion, honour, laud, and praise.
I write the blest conception, birth, and life,
Of this beloued Mother, Virgin, Wife:
The ioyes, the griefes, the death, and buriall place
Of her, most glorious, gracious, full of grace.
Her Father IOACHIM, a vertuous man,
Had long liu'd childlesse with his wife S. ANNE,
And both of them did zealously intend,
If God did euer Sonne or Daughter send,
That they to him would dedicate it solely
To be his seruant, and to liue most holy:
God heard, and granted freely their request,
And gaue them MARY (of that sex the best.)
At three yeeres age, she to the Temple went,
And there eleu'n yeeres in deuotion spent:
At th'end of fourteene yeeres it came to passe,
This Virgin vnto IOSEPH spoused was.
Then after foure months time was past and gone,
Th' Almighty sent from his tribunall throne
His great Ambassador, which did vnfold
The great'st ambassage euer yet was told.
Haile MARY full of heau'nly grace (quoth he)
The (high omnipotent) Lord is with thee:
Blest amongst women (o [...] Gods gracious doome)
And blessed be the fru [...] of thy blest wombe.
The Angels presence and the words he said,
This sacred vndefiled Maid dismaid,
Amazed, musing what this message meant,
And wherefore God this messenger had sent:
Feare not (said GAERIEL) MARY most renown'd.
Thou with thy gracious God hast sauour fo [...];
For lo, thou shalt conceiue and beare a Sunne,
By whom redemption and saluation's wonne:
And thou bis sauing Name shalt IESVS call,
Because hee'l [...] come to saue his people all.
She humbly, mildly, heau'ns high Nuncius heares:
But yet to be resolu'd of doubts and feares,
How can these things (quoth she) accomplisht be,
When no man hath knowledge had with me?
The Holy Ghost (the Angell then replide)
Shall come vpon thee, and thy God and guide,
The power of the most High shall shadow thee,
That Holy thing that of thee borne shall be,
[Page 20]Shall truely called be the Sonne of God.
Be whom Sinne, Death, and Hell, shall downe be trod.
Then MARY to these speeches did accord,
And said, Behold the hand-Maid of the Lord,
Be it to me 'according to' thy well.
I am thine owne obedient seruant still.
This being said, she turn'd her Angel tongne,
My soule doth magnist the Lord, (the song)
My spirit, and all my faculties, and doyce,
In God my Sauiour solely doth reioyce:
For though mans sinnes prouoke his grieuous wrath,
His humble hand-maid he remembred hath.
For now behold from this time hence I forth shall
All generations me right blessed call:
He that is mighty me hath magnifide,
And bo'y is his name: his mercies hide
On them that feare him (to prouoke his rage)
Throughout the spacious world from age to age.
With his strong arme he hath shew'd strength, and batterd
The proud, and their imaginations scatterd.
He hath put downe the mighty from their seat,
The mecke and humble he exalted great:
To fill the hungry he is prouident,
When as the rich away are empty sent:
His mercies promis'd Abr'am and his seed,
He hath remembred, and holpe Israels need.
This Song she sung with heart and holy spright,
To land her Makers mercy and his might:
And the like Song sung with so sweet a straine
Was neuer, nor shall e'r be sung againe.
When MARY by the Angels speech perceiu'd,
How old ELIZABETH a child conceiu'd,
To see her straight her pious minde was bent,
And to Ierusalem in three dayes she went.
And as the Virgin (come from Nazareth)
Talk't with her kinfwoman ELIZABETH,
IOHN Baptist, then vnnam'd, an vnborne boy,
Did in his Mothers belly leape with ioy:
Both Christ and Iohn vnborae, yet Iohn knew there
His great Redeemer and his God was neere.
When Ioseph his pure wife with child espide,
And knew he neuer her accompanide,
His heart was sad, he knew not what to say,
But in suspect would put her quite away.
Then from the high Almighty Lord supreme,
An Angell came to Ioseph in a Dreame,
And said, Feare not with MARY to abide,
For that which in her blest wombe doth recide,
Is by the Holy Ghost in wonder done,
For of thy wise there shall be borne a Sonne,
From him alone Redemption all begins,
And he shall saue his people from their sinnes.
This being said, the Angell past away,
And Ioseph with his Virgin-wife did stay:
Then he and she with speed prepared them
To goe to Dauids Citty Bethelem.
Through winters weather, frost, & wind, and snow,
Foure weary daies in trauell they bestow.
But when to Bethlem they approched were,
Small friendship, & lesse welcome they found there:
No chamber, nor no fire to warme them at,
For harbor onely they a Stable gat:
The Inne was full of more respected guests,
Of Drankards, Swearers, and of godlesse beasts:
Those all had roomes, whilst Glory and all Grace,
(But among beasts) could haue no lodging place.
There (by protection of th' Almighties wing,)
Was borne the Lord of Lords, and King of Kings.
Our God with vs, our great Emanuel,
Our Iesus, and our vanquisher of hell.
There in a cratch a [...] well was brought forth,
More then ten thousand thousand worlds is worth,
There did the humane nature and diuine,
The Godhead with the Manhood both combine:
There was this Maiden-mother brought to bed,
Where Oxen, Kine, and Horses lodg'd and fed:
There this bright Queene of Queenes with heau'nly my,
Did hug her Lord, her Life, her God, her Boy,
Her Sonne, her Sauiour, her immortall Blisse,
Her sole Redeemer, she might rocke and kisse.
Oh blessed Lady, of all Ladies blest:
Blessed for euer, for thy sacred brest
Fed him that all the famisht soules did feed,
Of the lost sheepe of Israels forlorne seed.
A Stable being Heau'n and earths great Court.
When forty dayes were ended in that sort,
This Virgin-Mother, and this Maiden-Bride,
(All pure) yet by the Law was purifide.
Old Simeon being in the Temple than,
He saw the Sonne of God, and Sonne of man.
He in his aged armes the Babe imbrac'd,
And ioying in his heart he so was grac'd,
He with these wordswisht that his life might cease:
Lord, let thy Seruant now depart in peace,
Mine eyes haue seene thy great saluation,
My Loue, my Iesus, my Redemption:
Vnto the Genteles euerlasting light,
To Israel the glory and the might.
Hope, faith and zeale, truth, constancy and loue,
To sing this Song did good old Simeon moue.
Then turning to our Lady most diuine,
Thy Sonne ( said he) shall once stand for a signe,
And he shall be the cause that many shall
By faith or vnbeliefe arise or fall.
He shall be raild vpon without desert,
And then sorrowes sword pierce through thy heart.
As Iesus fame grew dayly more and more,
The tyrant Herod is amazed sore.
The Sages said, Borne was great Iudaes King,
Which did vsurping Herods conscience fling:
For Herod was an Idumean base,
Not of the Kings of Iudahs Royall Race:
[Page 21]And hearing one of Dauids true-borne Line
Was borne, he fear'd his State he should resigne:
And well he knew he kept the Iewes in awe,
With slauish feare, not loue, 'gainst right and law.
For tis most true: "A Prince that's fear'd of many,
"Must many feare, and scarce be lou'd of any.
Herod beleaguer'd with doubts, feares and woes,
That Iesus should him of his Crowne depose,
He Chaf'd and vext, and almost grew starke mad,
To vsurpation he did murther adde:
An Edict sprung from his hell-hatched braine,
Commanding ad male Infants should be slaine
Of two yeares old and vnder through the Land,
Supposing Iesus could not scape his hand.
But God to Ioseph downe an Angell sent,
Commanding him by slight he should, preuent
The murd'rers malice, and to Egypt flye,
To saue our Sauiour siem his tyranny.
Our blessed Lady with a carefull flight,
Her blessed Babe away did beare by night;
Whilst Bethelem with bloody villaines swarmes,
That murth'red Infants in their mothers armes:
Some slaughter'd in their cradles, some in bed,
Some at the dugge, some newly borne strucke dead:
Some sweetly fast asleepe, some smiles ewake,
All butcher'd for their Lord and Sauiours sake.
Their wofull mothers madly here and there
Ran rending of their checkes, their eyes, and haire:
The Tyrant they with execrations curst,
And in despaire, to desp'rate acts out-burst.
Some all in sury end their wofull liues
By banefull poison, halters, or by kniues:
And som with sorrow were so fast combin'd,
They wept, and wept, and, wept themselues starke blind:
And being blind (to lengthen out their mones)
They piec'd their sorrows out with sighs & grones,
Thus with vnceasing griefe in many a mother,
Teares, sighs, & groues did one succeede the other.
But till the Tyrant Herods dayes were done,
The Virgin staid in Egypt with her Sonne.
Then backe to Nazareth they return'd againe.
When twelue yeeres age our Sauiour did attaine,
Her Sonne, her selfe, her Husband, all of them
Together trauell'd to Ierusalem;
The Virgin there much sorrow did endure,
The Most pure Mother lost her Child most pure.
Three daies with heauy hearts, with care & thought
Their best belou'd they diligently sought:
But when she found her Lord she held most deare,
Ioy banisht griefe, and loue exiled feare.
There in the Temple Iesus did confute
The greatest Hebrew Doctors in dispute:
But Doctors all are dunces in this case,
To parley with th'Eternall Sonne of Grace:
Th'Immortall, mighty, Wisedome and the Word,
Can make all humane sapience meere absurd.
Soone after this, (as ancient Writers say,)
God tooke the Virgins Virgin-spouse away.
Good Ioseph dide, and went to heauenly rest,
Blest by th' Almighties mercy mongst the blest,
Thus Mary was of her Good-man [...] cre [...]t,
A Widdow, Maiden, Mother being lose:
In holy contemplation she did spend
Her life for such a life as n'er shall end.
Search but the Scriptures, as our Sauiour bid,
There shall you find the wonders that he did:
As first, how he (by his high power diuine)
At Canan turned Water into Wine:
How he did heale the blind, deafe, dumb & lame:
How with his word he winds and seas did tame:
How he from men possest siends dispossest:
How he to all that came gaue ease and rest:
How with two fishes and fiue loaues of bread,
He fed fiue thousand: how he rais'd the dead:
How all things that he euer did or taught,
Past and surpast all that are taught or wrought:
And by these miracles he sought each way
To draw soules to him, too long gene altray.
At last approacht the full pre [...]xed time,
That GODS blest Sonne must dye for mans curst crime.
Then Iesus to Ierusalem did goe,
And left his Mother full of griefe and woe,
Oh woe of woes, and griefe surpassing griefe,
To see her Sauiour captiu'd as a thiefe:
Her Loue (beyond all loues) her Lord her all,
Into the hands of sinfull slaues to fall!
If but a mother haue a wicked sonne,
That hath to all disordred orders runne,
As treasons, rapes, blasphomings, murther, theft,
And by the Law must be of life berest;
Yet though he suffer iustly by desert,
His suff'ring surely wounds his mothers heart.
Suppose a woman haue a vertuous childe,
Religious, honest, and by nature milde,
And he must be to execution brought,
For some great fault he neuer did nor thought,
And she behold him when to death hee's put:
Then sure tormenting griefe her heart must cut.
These griefes are all as nothing vnto this,
Of this blest Mother of eternall blisse:
Her gracious Sonne that neuer did a [...]nisse,
His gracelesse seruant with a Iudas kisse
Betraid him vnto misbeleening slaues,
Where he was led away with bils and staues,
To Anna [...], Caiphae, Pilate, and to those
That to th'Immortall God were mortall foes.
Ah Iudas, couldst thou make so base account
Of Him, whose worth doth heauen and earth surmount?
Didst thou esteeme of 30. paltry pence,
More then the life of the eternall Prince?
O monstrous blindnesse, that for so small gaine,
Sold endlesse blisse, to buy perpetuall paine!
[Page 22]Is't possible damn'd auarice could compell
Thee sell heau'ns Kingdome for the sinke of hell?
Our Father Adam vnto all our woes,
Did for an Apple blessed Eden lose:
And Esau borne a Lord, yet like a slaue,
His birth-right for a messe of pottage gaue:
And poore Gehizi telling of a lye,
His couetousnesse gain'd his leprosie.
And though the text their deeds doe disallow,
Yet they made better matches farre then thou.
I doe not heere impute this deed of shame
On Iudas, because Iudas was his name:
For of that name there haue beene men of might,
Who the great battels of the Lord did fight,
And others more. But sure this impure blot
Stickes to him, as hee's nam'd Iskarriott;
For in an Anagram Iskarriott is,
By letters transposition, traytor kis.

ISKARRIOTT Anagramms. TRAITOR KIS.

KIsse, Traytor, kisse, with an intent to kill,
And cry all haile, when thou dost meane all ill,
And for thy fault no more shall Iudas be
A name of treason and foule infamie,
But all that fault I'le on Iskarriott throw,
Because the Anagram explaines it so.
Iskarriott for a bribe, and with a kisse,
Betraid his Master, the blest King of Blisse:
And after (but too late) with conscience wounded,
Amaz'd, and in his senses quite confounded,
With crying, Woe, woe, woe, oh woe on me,
I haue betraid my Master for a fee:
Oh I haue sinned, sinned past compare,
And want of grace and faith pluckes on despaire.
Oh too-too late it is to call for grace!
What shall I doe? where is some secret place,
That I might shield me from the wrath of God?
I haue deseru'd his euerlasting rod.
Then farewell grace, and faith, and hope, and loue,
You are the gifts of the great God aboue,
You onely on th'Elect attendants be:
Despaire, hell, horror, terror is for me,
My hainous sinne is of such force and might,
'Twill empt th'Exchequer of Gods mercy quite:
And therefore for his mercy Ile not call,
But to my iust deseru'd perdition fall.
I still most gracelesse haue all grace withstood,
And now I haue betraid the guiltlesse blood.
My Lord and Master I haue sold for pelfe,
This hauing said, despayring, hang'd himselfe.
There we leaue him, and now must be exprest
Something of her from vvhom I haue digrest.
The Virgins heart vvith thousand griefs vvas nip [...];,
To see her Sauiour flouted, hated, vvhipt,
Despightfulnesse beyond despight vvas vs'd,
And vvith abuse past all abuse abus'd.
His apprehension grieu'd her heart full sore,
His cruell scourges grieu'd her ten times more,
And whē his blessed head with thorns was crown'd
Then floods of griefe on griefe her soule did woūd,
But then redoubled was her griefe and feare,
When to his death his Crosse she saw him beare.
And lastly (but alas not least nor last)
When he vpon the tree was nailed fast,
With bitter teares, & deep heart-wounding groues,
With sobs, and sighs, this Maiden-Mother moanes.
What tongue or pen can her great griefe vnfold,
When Christ said, Woman, now thy Sonne behold?
That voyce (like Ice in Iune) more cold and chill,
Did dangerously wound, and almost kill:
Then (as old Simeon prophesi'd before)
The sword of sorrow through her heart did gore.
And if 'twere possible all womens woes
One woman could within her brest inclose,
They were but puffes, sparkes, mole-hills, drops of raine;
To whirl-winds, meteors, Kingdomes, or the maine:
Vnto the woes, griefes, sorrowes, sighs, and teares,
Sobs, gronings, terrors, and a world of feares,
Which did beset this Virgin on each side,
When as her Sonne, her Lord, and Sauiour dide.
Thus he, to whom compar'd, all things are drosse,
Humbled himselfe to death, euen to the Crosse:
He that said, Let there be, and there was light,
He that made all things with his mighty might,
He by whom all things haue their life and breath,
He humbled himselfe vnto the death;
Vnto the death of the curst Crosse: this he,
This he, this He of hee's did stoope for me:
For me this Wel-spring of my soules releefe,
Did suffer death, on either hand a theefe:
The one of them had runne a theeuing race,
Rob'd God of Glory, and himselfe of Grace:
He wanted liuely faith to apprehend,
To end his life for life that ne'r shall end:
With faithlesse doubts his minde is armed stiffe,
And doth reuile our Sauiour with an If.
If that thou be the Sonne of God (quoth he)
Come from the Crosse, and saue thy selfe and me.
The other Theefe, arm'd with a sauing faith,
Vnto his fellow turn'd, and thus he saith;
Thou guilty wretch, this man is free and cleare
From any crime for which he suffers here:
We haue offended, we haue iniur'd many,
But this man yet did neuer wrong to any,
We iustly are condemn'd, he false accus'd,
He hath all wrong, all right to vs is vs'd,
Hee's innocent, so are not thou and I:
We by the Law are iustly iudg'd to dye.
[Page 23]Thus the good Theefe euen at his latest cast,
Contrary to a Theefe, spake truth at last.
And looking on our Sauiour faithfully,
(Whilst Christ beheld him with a gracious eye)
These blest words were his prayers totall [...],
O Lord when thou shalt to thy Kingdome come,
Remember me. Our Sauiour answer'd then
A doctrine to confute despairing men,)
Thou (who by liuely faith laist hold on me)
This day in Paradise with me shalt be.
Thus as this theefes life was by theft supplide,
So now he stole heau'ns Kingdome when he dyde.
And I doe wish all Christians to agree,
Not t'liue as ill, but dye as well as he.
Presumptuous sinnes are no way here excus'd,
For here but one was sau'd, and one refus'd.
Despaire for sinnes hath here no rule or ground,
For as here's one was lost, so one was found.
To teach vs not to sinne with wilfull pleasure,
And put repentance off, to our last leasure.
To shew vs though we liu'd like Iewes and Turkes,
Yet Gods great mercy is aboue his workes.
To warne vs not presume, or to despaire,
Here's good example in this theeuing paire.
These seas of care (with zealous fortitude)
This Virgin past among the multitude.
(Oh gracious patterne of a sex so bad)
Oh the supernall patience that she had,
Her zeale, her constancy, her truth, her loue,
The very best of women her doth proue.
Maids, wiues, and mothers, all conforme your liues
To hers, the best of women, maides, or wiues.
But as her Sonnes death made her woes abound,
His resurrection all griefe did confound:
She saw him vanquish't and inglorious,
And after saw him Victor most victorious:
She saw him in contempt to lose his breath,
And after that she saw him conquer death:
She saw him (blest) a cursed death to dye,
And after saw him rise triumphantly:
Thus she that sorrowed most, had comfort most,
Ioy doubly did returne, for gladnesse lost,
And as before her torments tyranniz'd,
Her ioy could after not be equalliz'd:
Her Sonnes (all-wondred) resurrection,
Her Sauiours glorious ascension,
And last, the Holy Ghost from heauen sent downe,
These mighty mercies all her ioyes did crowne.
Suppose a man that were exceeding poore,
Had got a thousand tunnes of golden ore,
How would his heart be lifted vp with mirth,
As this great masse of treasure (most part earth)
But to be rob'd of all in's height of glory,
Would not this lucklesse man be much more sory
Then euer he was glad? for in the minde
Griefe more then ioy doth most abiding finde.
But then suppose that after all this l [...]sse,
The gold is well refined from the dresse,
And as the poore man doth his losse complaine,
His weath (more pure) should be rel [...] againe.
Amidst his passions (in this great reliefe)
I doubt not but his ioy would conquer griefe.
Euen so our bressed Lady hauing lost
Her ioy, her lewell she esteemed most,
Her all in all, the heau'n and earths whole treasure,
Her gracious heart was grieued out of measure.
But when she found him in triumphant state,
No tongue or pen her ioy cou'd then relate.
She lost him poore and [...]are, and dead and cold,
She found him rich, most gl [...] to behold.
She lost him when vpon his backe was hurld
The burthen of the sinnes of all the World:
She lost him mortall, and immortall found him,
For crown of thorns, a crown of glory crownd him.
Thus all her griefes, her losse, her cares, and paine,
Return'd with ioyes inestimable gaine.
But now a true relation I will make,
How this blest Virgin did the world forsake.
'Tis probable that as our Sauiour bid
Saint Iohn to take her home, that so he did:
And it may be suppos'd she did abide
With him, and in his house vntill she dide.
Iohn did out-liue th'Apostles euery one,
For when Domitian held th'Imperiall Throne,
To th'Ile of Pathmos he was banisht then,
And there the Reuelation he did pen:
But whilst Iohn at Ierusalem did stay,
God tooke the blessed Virgins life away.
For after Christs Ascension it appeares,
She on the earth suruiued fifteene yeeres,
Full sixty three in all she did endure,
A sad glad pilgrimage, a life most pure.
At sixty three yeeres age her life did fade,
Her soule (most gracious) was most glorious made,
Where with her Son, her Sauiour, her Lord God,
She euerlastingly hath her abode,
In such fruition of immortall glory,
Which cannot be describ'd in mortall story.
There mounted (meel [...]e) she sits in Maiesty;
Exalted there is her humility.
There she that was adorned full of Grace,
Beheld her Maker and Redeemers face.
And there she is amongst all blessed spirits
(By imputation of our Sauiours merits,)
She there shall euer and for euer sing
Eternall praise vnto th'Eternall King.
When she had paid the debt that all must pay,
When from her corps her soule was past away:
To Gethsemany, with lamenting cheare,
Her sacred body on the Beere they beare.
There in the earth a Iewell was inter'd,
That was before all earthly wights prefer'd,
[Page 24]That Holy wife, that Mother, that pure Maid,
At Gethsemany in her graue was laid.

LENVOY.

This worke deserues the worke of better wit,
But I (like Pilate) say, What's writ is writ:
If it be lik'd: poore artlesse I am glad,
And Charity I hope will mend what's bad.
I know my selfe the meanest amongst men,
The most vnlearnedst that e'r handled pen:
But as it is, into the world I send it,
And therefore pray commend it, or come to end it.
FINIS.

TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE, WORTHY, and Learned Gentleman, S r. THOMAS Richardson Knight, Lord Chiefe Iustice of his Maiesties Court of Common Pleas, and Speaker in the High Court of PARLIAMENT, &c.

A double Anagramme.
  • THOMAS RICHARDSON,
  • AS MAN HONORDE CHRIT,
  • SO CHRIST HONERD A MAN.
YOur name includes, that As Man honorde Christ,
So God againe through Christ honord a Man:
For if Man truely honor the most High'st,
Then Christ to honor Man both will and can.
Right Worthy Lord, this in your name is true,
You honor Christ, and Christ hath honord you.
RIGHT HONOVRABLE,

BVt that I am assured that your Noble disposition, in all parts is sutable to the inside of this Booke, I should neuer haue dared to Dedicate it to your Patronage: for as it is a Diuine Poem, so ha [...] your Worship a religious heart; As it hath an honest intention, so haue you a brest euer full of [...] thoughts, which bring forth worthy actions: as it is a whip or Scourge against all sorts of priat, so h [...]e you euer beene an vfaigned louer of Courteous humanity and humility, I humbly be­seech your Honour, (although the method and stile be plaine,) to be pleased to giue it fauourable entertain­ment, for the honesty that is in it, and the dutifull affection of the Author,

Who is most obsequiously obliged to your Honour, IOHN TAYLOR.

TO NO MATTER VVHO, NO GREAT MATTER VVHERE, YET TO BE READ, THERE IS MATTER WHY, ALTHOVGH NOT MVCH MATTER WHEN.

IT is no matter in whose hands or censure this my Superibae Flagellum, or Whipping, or Stripping of Pride fall into: If it come into the view of true Nobility or Gentry, I know it will be charitably accepted. If into the hands of degenerate yongsters, that esteeme Pride more then all the Liberall Sciences, who account the foure Cardinall vertues, inferiour to their owne carnall vices, such a one will put me off with a scornefull tush, a pish, or a mew, and commit my Booke to the protection of Ajax. If a wise man reade it, I know it will be discreetly censur'd; if a Foole, his Bolt is soone shot, and I am arm'd against it; if a Learned man peruse it, he will beare with my bad Schollership; if an vnlearned, I care not for his opinion; if a man of knowledge view it, he will pardon my ignorance; if an ignorant Asse see it, he will bray out his owne; if an honest rich man spy it, he will be the poorer in spirit, though not in purse; but if a proud Diues handle it, he will esteeme it worse then his Dogges; if a proud Courtier reade it, hee will teare it to tatters; whilst a Generous Affable Gentleman, will louingly entertaine it. If beauty chance to behold it, it will bid it welcome, if Pride stand not in the way; if a strong man that is not proud of it, grow acquainted with the contents of my meaning, I thinke it will content him; if Parents, or children, or all, or any body, that are not poysoned with pride, doe but see or heare it distinctly, read and vnderstand it with iudgement, I am per­swaded it will passe and repasse, with friendly vsage, but if any of the contrary faction come within the Aire of it, they will vse it in some sort, as bad as the hangman will vse them. And So much for, To no matter who.

It is no great matter where this be read, for as a good man (being banished) is neuer out of his Country, because all Countries are his, so my Booke in Church, Court, Citty, Countrey or Cottage, is one and the same; it may perhaps alter the place where it comes from worse to better, but the place can neuer alter the honest intents of it, from better to worse. Therefore no great matter where.

To be read there is matter, why because it strikes at the roote of a most deadly sinne, which almost as bad as an vniuersall deluge, hath ouerflowed the most part of the world; and though the Preachers on Earth, (Gods Trumpets, and Ambassadours from Heauen) doe diligent­ly and daily strike at this abomination, with the eternall Sword of the euerlasting Word, yet what they cut downe in the day, like Mushromes, it growes vp againe thicke and three­ [...]old in the night; for whilst the husband-man sleepes, the enuious man sowes tares.

[Page 26]Wherefore, I hauing a talent of knowledge lent me, by which I know that I must render an account one day, how I haue imployed it, and hauing written neere forty seuerall Pam­phlets in former times, I purpose henceforward (God willing) to redeeme the time I haue so mis-spent, imploying my Pen in such exercises (which though they be not free from a rel­lish of mirth. yet they shall be cleare from profanation, scurrillity, or obsceannesse. I doe know, Pride is at such a height, that my Mole-hill Muse can neuer by mineing at her foote, shake her head; for where Diuinity preuailes not, Poetry in meddling doth but shew the Suns brightnes with a Candle. Yet forasmuch as I know that Pride cast Angels out of Heauen, made diuels in hell, threw man out of Paradise, was a maine causer of the drowning of the first World, is a deuourer of this world, and shall euer be accursed in the world to come, by this knowledge, I haue with a mix'd inuectiue mildnesse, shewed in this Booke the vanities of all sorts of Pride, not that I hope for amendment, but to shew my honest intendment.

I haue seene sixe or seuen fashion hunting Gallants together sit scorning, and deriding a better man then themselues, onely because either his Hat was of the old Blocke, or that his Ruffe was not so richly lac'd, his Cloake hath beene too plaine, his Beard of the old transla­tion, his Bootes and Spurres of the precedent second edition, and for such slight occasions a man hath beene slighted, ieerd and wonderd at, as if he had beene but a Zany to the fa­shion, or a man made for the purpose for them to whet their scorne vpon, and therefore to reade this, there is a matter why.

It is not much matter when, for be it read on Friday the Turks Holyday, on Saturday the Iewes Sabbath, on Sunday the Lords Day, or on any day or all dayes, nights or houres, there is Diuinitie with Ala [...]ritie, Poetrie with mirth, and euery thing so interwouen, one with another, that if it please not the generality, yet I hope in particularitie it will tolerably censur'd by all that hate Pride, and loue humility. And therefore, not much matter when:

IOHN TAYLOR.

A FEW LINES, TO SMALL PVRPOSE, AGAINST THE SCANDALOVS ASPERSIONS, that are either maliciously, or ignorantly cast vpon the Poets and Poems of these Times.

THere doth a strange, and true opinion runne,
That Poets write much worse, then they haue don:
And how so poore their daily writings are,
As though their best inuentions were thread-bare.
And how no new things from them now do spring,
But all hath ref'rence from some other thing:
And that their daily doings doe reueale,
How they from one another filch and steale,
As if amongst them 'twere a statute made,
That they may freely vse the theeuing trade.
And some there are that will not sticke to say,
That many Poets liuing at this day,
[Page 27]Who haue the Hebrew, Latine, Greeke, at will,
And in th' Italian and the French haue skill,
These are the greatest theeues they say, of all
That vse the Trade (or Art) Poeticall.
For ancient Bards, and Poets in strange toungs,
Compiled haue their verses and their songs:
And those to whō those tongues are rightly known,
Translating them, make others verse their owne,
As one that steales a Cloake, and presently
Makes it his owne, by alt'ring of the dye.
So whole bookes, and whole sentences haue bin
Stolne, and the stealers, great applause did win,
And by their filching thought great men of fame,
By those that knew not the right Authors name.
For mine owne part, my Conscience witnesse is,
In'er was guilty of such theft as this,
Vnto such robbery I could neuer reach,
Because I vnderstand no forreigne speach.
To prooue that I am from such filching free,
Latin and French are heathen-Greeke to me,
The Grecian, and the Hebrew Charactars,
I know as well, as I can reach the Stars.
The sweet Italian, and the Chip Chop Dutch,
I know, the man i'th Moone can speake as much.
Should I from English Authors, but purloyne,
It would be soone found counterseited coyne.
Then since I cannot steale, but some will spy,
[...]le truely vse mine owne, let others lye.
Yet to excuse the writers, that now write,
Because they bring no better things to light:
'Tis because bounty from the world is fled,
True liberality is almost dead.
Reward is lodg'd in darke obliuion deep,
Bewitch't (I thinke) into an endlesse sleepe,
That though a man in study take great paines,
And empt his veines, puluerize his braines,
To write a Poem well, which being writ
With all his Iudgement, Reason, Art, and Wit,
And at his owne charge, print and pay for all,
And giue away most free, and liberall
Two, three, or foure, or fiue hundred bookes,
For his reward he shall haue nods and lookes;
That all the profit a mans paines hath gat,
Will not suffice one meale to feed a Cat.
Yet still Noble Westminster, thou still art free,
And for thy bounty I am bound to thee:
For hadst not thou, and thy Inhabitants,
From Time to Time relieu'd and help'd my want
I had long since bid Poetry adieu,
And therefore still my thankes shall be to you.
Next to the Court, in generall I am bound
To you, for many friendships I haue found.
There (when my purse hath often wanted bait)
To fill or feed it, I haue had receite.
So much for that, I'le now no more rehearse,
They shew their loues in prose, my thankes in verse:
When death, Mecanas did of life depriue,
Few of his Noble Tribe were left aliue,
This makes inuention to be meane and hard,
When Pride and Auarice doth kill reward.
And yet me thinkes, it plainely doth appeare,
Mens writings are as good as e're they were.
Good lines are like a Banquet ill imployd,
Where too much feeding hath the stomack cloyd,
Good verses fall sometimes (by course of fate)
Into their hands that are preiudicate.
And though the Writer n'er so well hath pend,
Yet they'le find fault with what they cannot mend.
Thus many a learned well composed line,
Hath bin a Pearle that's cast before a swine.
Or more familiarly to make compare;
Like Aqua vitae giuen vnto a Mare.
These fellowes, (glutted with variety)
Hold good lines in a loath'd saciety,
Whilst paltry Riming, Libels, Tigges and Iests,
Are to their appetites continuall feasts,
With which their fancies they doe feed and fill,
And take the Ill for good, the Good for ill.
Whilst like to Mōkeyes, scorning wholsome meate)
They greedily doe poysnous spiders eate.
So let them feed vntill their humours burst,
And thus much bold to tell them heere I durst,
That Poetry is now as good as euer,
If to bounty, relieue her would endeuer.
Mens mindes are worse then they haue bin of yore,
Inuention's good now, as it was before.
Let liberality awake, and then
Fach Poet in his hand will take a pen.
And with rare lines inrich a world of paper,
Shall make Apollo, and the Muses caper.

SVPERBIAE FLAGELLVM, OR THE VVHIP OF PRIDE.

VVHen all things were as wrap'd in sable night,
And a Ebon darknes muffled vp the light:
When neither Sun, or Moone, nor Stars had shinde,
And when no fire, no Water, Earth, or Wind,
No Haruest, Autumne, Winter, when no Spring,
No Bird, Beast, Fish, nor any creeping thing,
When there was neither Time nor place, nor space,
And silence did the Chaos round imbrace:
Then did the Archwork master of this All,
Create this Massie Vniuersall Ball,
And with his mighty Word brought all to passe,
Saying, but Let there be, and done it was.
Let there be Day, Night, Water, Earth, Hearbs, Trees,
Let there be Sunne, Moone, Stars, Fish, Fowle that flees.
Beasts of the Field, he said but, Let there be,
And all things were created as we see.
Thus euery sensible and senselesse thing,
The High-Creators Word to passe did bring:
And as in viewing all his workes he stood,
He saw that all things were exceeding good.
Thus hauing furnisht Seas, and Earth and Skies,
Abundantly with all varieties,
Like a Magnificent and sumptuous Feast,
For th' entertainment of some welcome Guest,
When Beasts and Birds, and euery liuing Creature,
And the Earths fruits did multiply by Nature;
Then did th'Eternall Trinity betake
It selfe to Councell, and said, Let vs make,
Not Let there be, as vnto all things else,
But LET VS MAKE MAN, that the rest excels;
According TO OVR IMAGE LET VS MAKE
MAN, and then did th'Almightie Red Earth take,
With which he formed Adam, euery limme,
And (hauing made him) breathed life in him.
Loe, thus the first Man neuer was a Child.
No way with sinne originall defil'd:
But with high Supernat'rall Vnderstanding,
He ouer all the World had sole commanding.
Yet though to him the Regency was giuen,
As Earths Lieutenant to the God of Heauen,
Though he commanded all created things,
As Deputy vnder the King of Kings;
Though he I so highly here was dignifide,
To humble him, not to be puff'd with Pride,
He could not brag, or boast of high borne birth,
For he was formed out of slime and earth:
No beast, fish, worme, fowle, herbe, weed, stone, or tree,
But are of a more ancient house then he;
For they were made before him, which proues this,
That their Antiquity is more then his.
Thus both himselfe, and his beloued Spouse,
Are by Creation of the younger house,
And whilst they liu'd in perfect Holinesse, b
Their richest Garments were bare Nakednesse,
True Innocency were their chiefest weeds,
(For Righteousnesse no Masque or Visor needs.)
The royal'st robes that our first Parents had,
Was a free Conscience with Vprightnesse clad;
They needed ne'r to shift; the cloathes they wore,
Was Nakednesse, and they desir'd no more
Vntill at last, that Hell-polluting sin,
With Disobedience soil'd their Soules within,
And hauing lost their holines Perfection,
They held their Nakednes an Imperfection,
Then (being both asham'd) they both did frame
Garments, as weedes of their deserued shame.
Thus, when as sinne had brought Gods curse on man,
Then shame to make Apparell first began:
E're man had sin'd, most plaine it doth appeare,
He neither did, or needed Garments weare,
For his Apparell did at first beginne,
To be the Robes of penance for his sinne.
Thus all the brood of Adam, and of Eue,
The true vse of Apparell may perceiue,
That they are Liueries, Badges vnto all
Of our sinnes, and our Parents wofull fall.
Then more then mad, these mad-brain'd people be
(Or else they see, and will not seeme to see)
[Page 29]That these same Robes (with Pride) that makes them swell,
Are tokens that our best desert is hell.
aMuch like vnto a Traytor to his King
That would his Countrey to destruction bring,
Whose Treasons being prou'd apparantly,
He by the Law is iustly mg'd to dye,
And when he lookes for his deserued death,
A Pardon comes and giues him longer breath,
I thinke this man most madly would appeare
That would a halter in a glory weare,
Because he with a halter merited
Of life, to be quite desinherited.
But if he should vainegloriously persist
To make a Rope of silke or golden twist,
And weare't as a more honourable show,
Of his Rebellion, then course hempe or towe,
Might not men iustly say he were an Asse,
Triumphing that he once a Villaine was,
And that he wore a halter for the nonce,
In pride that he deserued hanging once?
Such with our heau'nly Father is the Case,
Of our first Parents, and their sinfull Race,
Apparell is the miserable signe,
That we are Traytors to our Lord diuine,
And we (like Rebels) still most pride doe take
In that which still most humble should vs make.
Apparell is the prison for our sinne
Which most should shame, yet most we Glory in;
Apparell is the sheete of shame as't were
Which (for our penance) on our backs we beare,
For man Apparell neuer did receiue,
Till he eternall Death deseru'd to haue.
And thus Apparell to our sense doth tell
Our sinnes 'gainst Heau'n, and our desert of Hell.
How vaine is it for man, a clod of Earth,
To boast of his high progeny, or Birth,
Because (perhaps) his Ancestors were good,
And sprung from Royall, or from Noble blood,
Where Vertuous worth did in their minds inherit,
Who gain'd their Honours by Desert and Merit;
Whose seruice for their Country neuer fai'ld,
Who (iustly) liu'd belou'd, and dyde bewaild;
Whose Affability, and Charity,
Guided with pious true sincerity,
Who to their states lou'd all their liues to ioyne
Loue before Lands, Compassion before Coyne?
Yet when they dyde, left wealth, place, state, and name,
To Heires, who bury all in Pride & shame,
But as the Sacred Truth most truly faith,
"No man is saued by anothers Faith;
So though some honourable Rascals haue
Turn'd their good Fathers to their timelesse graue,
And like Ignoble noble Reprobates,
Possesse their names, possessions and estates,
Yet (for they want their Vertues and Deserts)
They are but Bastards to their better parts.
Manasses was good Hezechtahi sonne,
And with his Crowne into a Vice did runne;
The Sire the title of good King did gaine,
The Sonn's Abominations alt did staine;
Honour is better well deseru'd then had,
To haue it vndeseru'd, that Honour's bad.
In Rome an ancient Law there sometimes was,
Men should through Vertue vnto Honor passe.
And 'tis a Rule that euermore hath bin,
"That Honor's best which a mans selfe doth win.
'Tis no Inheritance, nor can it runne
Successiuely from Father to the Sonne;
But if the Father nobly were inclin'd,
And that the Sonne retaine his worthy mind,
If with his Fathers goods he doth possesse
His goodnesse, all the world must then confesse,
That that Sonnes Honor doth it selfe display
To be the Fathers equall euery way.
Thus good mens Honors can no Honor be
To their degenerate posteritie,
But 'tis a mans owne Vertue, or his Vice,
That makes his Honor high or low in price.
Of Birth, or Parents, no man can be proud,
Pride of Apparell here is disallow'd,
Pride of our Riches is most Transitory,
Pride of our Beauty is a sading Glory:
Pride of our wisedome is most foolish sorly:
Pride of our holines is most vnholy,
Pride of our strength is weakenes in our thought,
And Pride in any thing is come to nought.
Pride hath bin Author of the worst of Eails,
*Transforming glorious Angels, into Deuils,
When Babels Tow'r gan proudly to aspire,
With toungs confusion, they were paid their hire.
Through Pride the King of Babels glory ceast.
*And for seu'n yeeres it turn'd him to a beast;
And Baltazar that next him did succeede,
Lost life, and left his Empire to the * Mede,
For Pride, to Tyre and Zidons wicked Kings
*The Prophet a most iust destruction brings.
Herod mid'st his vngodly glory vaine,
Through Pride was eaten vp with wormes, and slaine,
Great b Alexander, King of Macedon,
Disdaind to be his father Phillips son,
But he from Iupiter would be descended,
And as a god be honour'd and attended,
Yet Bain'de at Babylon he prou'd but man,
His godhead ended foolish as't began.
There was in Sicilie a proud Physitian.
Menecrates, and he through high ambition,
To be a god, himselfe would needs preferre,
And would (forsooth) be named Iupiter,
[Page 30]King Dionysius making a great feast,
This foole-god daigned there to be a guest,
Who by himselfe was at a table plac'd,
(Because his godhead should the more be grac'd)
The other Guests themselues did feed and fill,
He at an empty table still, sate still.
At last with humble low Sir Reuerence,
A fellow came with fire and Frankincense,
And offer'd to his godship, (saying then)
Perfumes were fit for gods, and meate for men:
The god in anger rose incontinent
Well laugh'd at, and an hunger'd, home he went.
The Romane Emperour Domitian
Would be a god, was murther'd by a man.
Caligula would be a god of wonder,
And counterfeite the lightning, and the thunder;
Yet euery Reall heau'nly Thundercracke,
This Caitife in such feare and terror strake,
That he would quake, and shake, & hide his head
In any hole, or vnderneath his bed.
And when this godlesse god had many slaine,
A Tribune dasht out his vngodly braine.
"And thus th' Almighty still 'gainst Pride doth frowne,
"And casts Ambition headlong tumbling downe.
Great Pompey would be all the worlds superior,
And Caesar vnto none would be inferior;
But as they both did liue ambitiously,
So both of them vntimely deaths did dye.
The one in AEgypt had his finall fall,
The other murthered in the Capitall.
A number more Examples are beside,
Which shewes the miserable fall of Pride:
And doe men thinke to goe to Heauen from hence
By Pride, which cast the Angels headlong thence?
Or doe they through their Pride suppose to dwell
With God, when Pride did make the Deuils in hell?
It is a Vice which God abhors and hates,
And 'gainst it doth denounce most fearefull threats.
Oh, what a hellish vanity is't then,
That doth bewitch vaine women, and vile men,
That rather then their Pride and they will seuer,
They will be seuer'd from their God for euer?
I will not say but Wisedome, Beauty, Health,
Strength, Courage, Magnanimity, and Wealth,
Empires and Kingdomes, rule of Sea, and Land,
Are blessings giuen by Gods all-giuing hand;
But not because on whom they are bestow'd,
Should in the stead of Humblenesse waxe proud,
Or with vaine glory haue their hearts vpheau'd:
For why? * what ere they haue, they haue receiu'd:
And therefore Christian Kings their stile doe grace
King By the Grace of God, of such a place;
Because by his especiall prouidence
They hold Maiesticall Preheminence.
And as there is distinction of Estates,
Some Emp'rours, Kings, and mighty Potentates,
Superiors and Inferiors, each degree,
As Gods foreknowing Knowledge did foresee:
Yet he did not bestow his bounteous Grace,
To make the great men proud, or meane men base;
Aboundant wealth he to the Rich doth lend,
That they the poore should succour and defend.
He hath giu'n strength and vigour to the strong,
That they shuld guard the weak frō taking wrong:
To some he knowledge doth and wisdome grant,
Because they should instruct the Ignorant:
But vnto no man God his gifts doth giue,
To make him proud, or proudly here to liue.
For Pride of state, birth, wisedome, beauty, strength,
And Pride in any thing, will fall at length,
But to be proud of Garments that we weare,
Is the most foolish pride a heart can beare.
For as they are the Robes of sinne and shame,
Yet more may be consider'd in the same:
Be they compact of silke, or cloth of Gold,
Or cloth, or stuffes, (of which ther's manifold)
Let them be lac'd and fac'd, or cut, or plaine,
Or any way to please the wearers braine,
And then let him or her that is so clad,
Consider but from whence these stuffes were had,
How Mercers, Drapers, silkmen were the Iaylers,
And how the Executioners were Taylers,
That did both draw and quarter, slash and cut,
And into shape, mishapen Remns-ants put.
Consider this, and you will graunt me than,
That Garments are the workemanship of man.
Which being granted no man can deny,
But that it is most base Idolatry,
T'adore or worship a proud paltry knaue,
Because the Mercers shop hath made him braue.
Or is it not a foolish vile mistaking,
To Honour things that are a a Taylers making?
I make a vowe, that neuer whilst I liue
A Reuerence to Apparell will I giue;
Some goodnesse in the wearer I'le expect,
Or else from me he shall haue small Respect;
If in him vertue, and true worth I see,
He shall haue heart and hand, and cap and knee.
Tis laudable there should be diff [...]rence made!
Betwixt a Courtier, and a man of Trade:
For sense or reason neuer would allow,
A Prince to weare a habit for the Plow:
Nor that a Carter vainely should aspire,
To thrust himselfe into the Court attire.
Distinctions of Office, and Estates
Should habit men according to their rates.
Thus I rich Garments no way doe condemne,
But I say no man should be proud of them.
In Rome, a worthy Law there once was made,
That euery man, of each degree and Trade,
[Page 31]Some marke or badge, about him still should beare,
Whereby men knew what all mens callings were.
The Consuls bearing the Imperiall sway,
(To whose command the rest did all obey)
In token they had power to saue or spill,
Had Rods and Axes borne before them still.
The Censors, Tribunes, AEdiles, and the Praetors,
The Prouosts, Questors, and the Conseruators,
And as their offices were sundry varied,
So were they known by things before them carried.
The Mercer in his hat did weare some tuffe,
Or shred of Silke, or Gold, his trading stuffe;
Drapers a piece of List, Weauers a quill,
Or shuttle, and the Millers wore a Mill.
And as men sundry callings did apply,
So they wore Emblemes to be knowne thereby.
But if that Law were but enacted here,
How like a pluckt crow, would Pride soon appeare?
Some Taylors would be very mad at that,
To weare each one a Bodkin in his hat;
There's many a wealthy Whoremaster would skip,
And stamp, and start, if he should weare a whip:
But yet if euery thiefe of each degree
Were bound to weare a halter, God blesse me:
A Butcher still should weare a Calfe or Bull,
My selfe (a Waterman) an Oare or Skull.
And so of euery trade both high and low,
Men (by their badges) would their functions know.
And if this Law the State would but allow,
Some would weare Calues skins, that weare veluet now.
Then Iacks and Iill, and Iohn a Drones his issue,
Would not be trapped thus in Gold and Tissue.
'Tis strange a coxcomb should be cram'd with pride,
Because he hath got on a Sattin hide:
A Grogreine outside, or a siluer Case,
Some fourteene groce of buttons, and Gold lace;
When as perhaps the corps that carries all,
Hath more diseases then an Hospitall,
And (which is worst of all) his Soule within,
Stinks before God, polluted with all sinne.
Rome great Arch-tyrant Nero, amongst all
The matchlesse vices he was tax'd withall,
(The which in Histories are truely told,)
Was said t'haue shoo-ties al wrought o'r with gold,
If in an Emperour (that did command
Almost the whole world, both by Sea and Land,
Who countermaunded Indian Mines and Iems,
Iewels, and almost all earths Diadems,)
To weare gold shoo-strings were a noted crime,
What may it then be called at this time,
When many, below Hostlers in degree,
Shall (in that point) be deckt as braue as he?
Thus Pride's an ouerweening selfe opinion,
A soule-destroyer, come from Hels dominion;
Which makes vianglorious fools, & new found Madams
Forget they are of Eues good brood & Adams,
But yet though pride be a most deadly sinne,
What numbers by it doe their liuings vviane?
A vvorld of people daily liue thereby;
Who (vvere it not for it) would starue and dye.
Thus (by coruption of the time) this Deuill
Is grovvne a good, bad, necessary euill.
She is the Mercers onely fruitfull crop,
She is the Silkman, and th' Embrod'rers prop;
She is the Haberdashers chiefest Stocke,
She feeds the Hat-fellers vvith blocke on blocke:
She makes the Dyers daily liue to dye,
And dye to liue, and get great vvealth thereby;
She (euery Winter) doth the Draper feed,
With food and fuell She supplies his need.
She is the Taylors goddesse; and vpon her
He daily doth attend to doe her honour;
All the inuentions of his studious pate,
He at her shrine doth euer consecrate,
He rakes the vvorld for fashions that excell,
From Germany, from France, from Spaine, from He [...],
And vvouid himselfe be out of fashion qui [...]c,
But that Pride in nevv fashions doth delight.
Silke-vveauers (of the vvich abundance are)
Wer't not for Pride, vvould hue, and dye most bare:
Sempsters with ruffs and cuffs, & quoifes, and caules,
And falles, (wer't not for pride) would soone haue falles.
The Shoomakers neat, spanish, or polony,
Would haue but single-soal'd receit of money.
The sweet perfumers would be out of fauour,
And hardly could be sauers by their sauour.
The glittering Ieweller, and Lapidary,
(But for Prides helpe) were in a poore quandary.
The Goldsmiths plate would stand vpon his shelfe,
And's Rings and Chaines he might weare out himselfe.
Thus Pride is growne to such a height, I say,
That were she banish'd, many would decay:
For many hundred thousands are, you see,
Which from 'Pride only, haue meat, cloaths, and fee.
No maruell then she hath so many friends,
When as such numbers on her still depends,
Pride is their Mistres, the maintaines them still,
And they must serue her, or their case is ill.
But as so many numbers numberlesse,
Doe line and flourish here by Prides excesse:
So are there more vpon the other side,
Toild and tormented still to maintaine Pride.
The painfull Plowmans paines doe neuer cease
For he must pay his Rent, or lose his lease,
And though his Father and himselfe before,
Haue oft relieu'd poore beggers at their doore;
Yet now his Fine and Rent to high is rear'd,
That his own meat, and cloathes are scarcely clear'd,
Let him toyle night and day, in light and darke,
Lye with the Lambe downe, rise vp with the Larke,
Dig, delue, plow, sow, rake, harrow, mo [...]v, lop, fell,
Plant, graft, hedge, ditch, thresh, winnow, buy & sell;
[Page 32]Yet all the money that his paines can win,
His Land-lord hath a purse to put it in.
What though his Cattell with the Murraine dye,
Or that the Earth her fruitfulnesse deny?
Let him beg, steale, grieue, labour and lament,
The Quarter comes, and he must pay his Rent:
And though his Fine and Rent be high, yet higher
It shall be rais'd, if once it doth expire:
Let him and his be hunger-staru'd and pin'de,
His Land-lord hath decreed his bones to grinde:
And all this carke and care, and toile of his,
Most chiefly for this onely purpose is,
That his gay Land-lord may weare silke & feather,
Whilst he poore drudge can scarce get frize or leather;
Because his Land-lady may dog the fashion,
Hee's rack'd and tortur'd without all compassion;
Because his Land-lords Heyre may haue renowne
Of Gentle, though the Father be a Clowne:
Because his Landlords daughters (deckt with pride)
With ill-got portions may be Lad, side.
In briefe, poore tenants pinch for clothes and food
To dawb with pride their Landlords & their brood.
The time hath bin (and some aliue knowes when)
A Gentleman would keepe some twenty men,
Some thirty, and some forty, lesse or more,
(As their Reuenews did supply their store.)
And with their Charities did freely feed
The Widow, Fatherlesse, and poore mans need,
But then did Pride keepe residence in Hell,
And was not come vpon the earth to dwell:
Then Loue and Charity were at the best,
Exprest [...]in Action, not in words profest.
Then conscience did keepe men in much more aw,
Than the seuerest rigour of the Law,
And then did men feare God (with true intent,)
For's Goodnesse, not for feare of punishment.
But since the Leprosie of Pride hath spred
The world all ouer, from the foot to head:
Good bounteous house-keeping is quite destroyd,
And large reuenewes other wayes imployd;
Meanes that would foure men meate and meanes allow,
Are turnd to garters, and to roses now,
That which kept twenty, in the dayes of old,
By Satan is turn'd sattin, silke, and gold,
And one man now in garments he doth weare,
A thousand akers, on his backe doth beare,
Whose ancestours in former times did giue,
Meanes for a hundred people well to liue.
Now all his shrunke, (in this vaine glorious age)
T'attire a coach, a footman, and a page,
To dice, drinke, drabs, tobacco, hanks & hounds,
These are th'expence of many thousand pounds,
Whilst many thousands starue, and daily perish,
For want of that which these things vs'd to cherrish.
There is another Pride, which some professe,
Who pinch their bellies, for their backs excesse:
For thogh their guts through wāt of fodder clings,
That they will make sweet filthy fiddle strings;
Yet they will suffer their mawes pine and lacke,
To trap with rich caparisons the backe.
These people, (for their Pride) doe Iustice still,
Vpon themselues, although against their will.
They doe in their owne stomacks, try, examine,
And punish outward Pride, with inward famine.
But sure the people can be good for nothing,
Whose reputation onely lyes in cloathing:
Because the hangman oft may execute,
A thiefe or traytor in a sattin sute,
And that sute which did from the gallowes drop,
May be againe hang'd in a Broakers shop,
And then againe hang'd, and bought, and worne,
And secondly (perhaps) to Tiburne borne:
And so at sundry times, for sundry crimes,
The Hangman may fell one sute sixteene times,
And euery Rascall, that the same did fit,
To be exceeding pockie proud of it.
And all this while, (if I be not mistooke)
It rests vnpaid for, in the Mercers booke.
Thus many simple honest people haue,
Giu'n worship to a Broakers wardrobe slaue,
Thus Tiburne ornaments may be the chiefe,
To grace a graceles arrant whoore, or thiefe.
A Seruing-man, I in cast cloathes haue seene,
That did himselfe so strangely ouerweene,
That with himselfe he out of knowledge grewe,
And therefore all his old friends he misknewe,
Vntill at last his Glory did decrease,
His outside fac'd with tatters, rags and greace,
Then did the changing time, the youth transforme
From Pride, to be as lowly as a worme.
A many of these fellovves may be had,
That's meeke or proud, as clothes are good or bad.
I leaue true Noble Gentry all this while,
Out of the reach of my inuectiue stile,
Tis fit that those of worthy race and place,
Should be distinguisht from the Vulgar base.
Particulars Ile not to question call,
My Satyre is 'gainst Pride in generall.
Soft Rayment is in Princes Courts allow'd,
Not that the wearers should thereof be proud:
For worth and wisedome knowes most certainely,
That Hell giues pride, and Heau'n Humility,
And be their garments ne'r so rare or rich,
They neuer can make Pride their hearts bewitch.
Then if all sorts of men considred this,
Most vaine the pride of any rayment is,
For neither Sea, land, fish, fowle, worme, or beast,
But man's beholding to the most and least.
The silly Sheepe puts off his coate each yeere,
And giues it to forgetfull man to weare:
The Oxe, Calfe, Goate, and Deere doe not refuse
To yeeld their skins, to make him boots & shooes,
[Page 33]And the poore silke-worme labours night and day,
T'adorne and granish man with rich array:
Therefore if men of this did rightly thinke,
Humility would grow, and pride would shrinke.
Fowles of the ayre dee yeeld both fans & plumes
And a poore Ciuet-cat allowes perfumes.
The Earth is rip'd and bowel'd, rent and torne,
For gold and siluer which by man is worne:
And sea and land are rak'd and search't & sought,
For Iewels too farre fetcht, and too deare bought.
Thus man's beholding still (to make him trim)
Vnto all creatures, and not they to him.
Nature (without mans helpe) doth them supply,
And man without their helpe would starue and dye.
If men (I say) these things considered well,
Pride then would soone be tumbled downe to hell.
Their golden suits that make them much renown'd,
Is but the guts and garbage of the ground:
Their Ciuet (that affords such dainty sents)
Is but a poore Cats sweating Excrements;
Their rarest Iewels (which most glister forth)
Are more for outward shew then inward worth,
They are high valu'd at all times, and season,
But for what reason, none can giue a reason,
The best of, them like whoores, hath euer bin,
Most faire without, and full of bane within.
And let a great man weare a piece of glasse,
It (for his sake) will for a Diamond passe;
But let a man that's of but meane degree,
Weare a faire Diamond, yet it glasse must be.
This valuing of a Iewell is most fit
It should not grace a man, man should grace it.
A good man to his suite is a repute,
A knaues repute lyes onely in his sute.
And for a stone, that but three drams hath weigh'd,
Of precious poyson, hundreds haue bin paid.
And who can tell how many liues were lost,
In fetching home the Bables of such cost?
(For many of them as are as dearely bought,
As if they from a Acheldama were brought.)
Yet some rush through (fantastques pates to please)
Rocks, sands & change of aire, rough winds & seas
Storms, tēpests, gusts, flawes, pirates, sword, & fire,
Death, or else slauery, (neuer to retire.)
And thus prides various humours to su [...]fice,
A number hazard these calamities;
When our owne Countrey doth afford vs heere,
Iewels more precious, nothing nigh so deere.
A whetstone is more necessary sure,
A grindstone much more profit doth procure:
But for a b milstone, that's a Iewell rare,
With wich no other stone can make compare.
The loadstone is the meanes to find the rest,
But of all stones the milstone is the best.
Free stones and ar [...]ifi [...] [...] ricks [...] graunt,
Are stones, which men in building cannot want [...]
And the flintstone can yeeld vs [...] and heate,
But yet the milstone yeelds vs bread to eate.
The tilestone keepes vs dry, the roadestone bydes,
And holds fast Boates, in tempests, winds, and tides,
The chalke stone serues for lyme, or for account
To score, how reck'nings doe abate or mount.
Pebles, and grauell, mend high wayes, I know,
And ballast shippes, which else would ouerthrow.
And this much i'le maintaine here with my pen,
These are the stones that most doe profit men:
These, these are they, if we consider well,
That Saphirs, and the Diamonds doe excell,
The Pearle, the Em'raald, and the Turkesse bleu,
The sanguine Corrall, Ambers golden hiew,
The Christall, lacinth, Acha [...]c, Ruby red,
The Carbuncie Squar [...]d, cut, and pollished,
The Onix, Topaz, laspar, Hematite,
The fable let, the Tutch, and Chrysolite;
All these considred as they are indece,
Are but vaine toyes that doe mans fancy feed;
The stones I nam'd before, doe much more good
For building, [...]avling, lodging, firing, food.
Yet Iewels for their lawfull vse are sent,
To be a luster, and an ornament
For State, magnificence, and Princely port,
To shew a Kingdomes glory, at the Court;
And God (I kno [...]) ordain'd them to be worne;
Superiour States to honour and adorne,
And for the vses the [...] were made are good,
If (as they should be) they are vnderstood:
T'adorne our persons they are still allow'd,
But not to buy too deare, or make vs proud.
The holy Ghost in Exodus recites,
How Aaron (High Priest of the Israelites)
Twelue seuerall stones did on his Brest-plate beare,
Which of the twelue Tribes a remembrance were;
But they were mysticall, prophetique tropes,
And figures of Saluations future hopes.
But God did neuer giue or Gold or [...]emme,
Or Iewell, that we should take pride in them.
The Deu'ill laugh'd lately at the stinking stir,
We had about c Hic Mulier, and Haec Vir,
The Masculine appareld Feminine,
And Feminine attired Masculine,
The Woman-man, Man-woman, chuse you whe­ther,
The Female-male, Male-female, both, yet neither;
He is Pantonsinicks, that themselues bedights,
Like shamelesse double sex'd Hermaphrodites,
Virago Roaring Girles, that to their middle,
To know what sexe they were, was halfe a Riddle,
[Page 34]Braue trim'd & truss'd, vvith daggers & vvith dags,
Stout Captaine Maudlins feather brauely vvags,
Lieutenant a Dol, and valiant Ensigne Besse,
All [...]rm'd with impudence and shamelesnesse;
Whose Calues eg-starch may in some sort be taken
As if they had beene hang'd to smoake like Bacon,
Whose borrowed hayre (perhaps) not long before
Drop'd from the head of some diseased Whore,
Or one that at the Gallowes made her Will,
Late choaked with the Hangmans Pickadill.
In which respect, a Sow, a Cat, a Mare,
More modest then these foolish Females are.
For the bruit beasts (continuall night and day)
Doe weare their owne still (and so doe not they.)
But these things haue so well bin bang'd and firk'd,
And Epigram'd and Satyr'd, whip'd and Ierk'd,
Cudgeld and bastinadoed at the Court,
And Comically stag'de to make men sport,
Iyg'd, and (with all reason) mock'd in Rime,
And made the onely scornefull theame of Time;
And Ballad-mongers had so great a taske,
(As if their mases all had got the laske.)
That no more time therein my paines I'le spend,
But freely leaue them to amend, or end.
I saw a fellow take a white loaues pith,
And rub his masters white shooes cleane therewith,
And I did know that fellow, (for his pride)
To want both bread and meate before he dy'de.
Some I haue heard of, that haue beene so fine,
To wash and bathe themselues in milke or wine,
Or else with whites of egges, their faces garnish,
Which makes thē looke like visors, or new varnish.
Good bread, and [...]atmeale hath bin spilt like trash,
My Lady Polecats dainty hands to wash:
Such there hath bin, but now if such there are,
I wish that want of food may be their share.
Some practise euery day the Painters trade,
And striue to mend the work that God hath made:
But these deceiuers are deceiued farre,
With falsly striuing to amend, they marre:
With deu'lish daw [...]ing, plast'ring they doe spread,
Deforming so themselues with white and red,
The end of all their cunning that is showne,
Is, God will scarcely know them for his owne.
In a great frost, bare-brested, and vnlac't,
I haue seene some as low as to their waste:
One halfe attyr'd, the other halfe starke bare,
Shewes that they halfe asham'd, halfe shamelesse are,
Halfe, (or else all) from what they should be erring,
And neither fish or flesh, nor good red herring.
I blow'd my nailes when I did them behold:
And yet that naked Pride would feele no cold.
Some euery day doe powder so their haire,
That they like Ghosts, or Millers doe appeare:
But let them powder all that er'e they can,
Their Pride will stinke before both God and man.
There was a trades-mans wife, which I could name,
(But that I'le not divulge abroad her shame)
Which a strong legion of good garments wore,
As gownes and petticoates, and kirtles store,
Smocks, headtires, aprons, shadowes, shaparoons,
(Whimwhams, & whirligiggs to please Baboones)
Iewels, rings, ooches, brooches, bracelets, chaines;
(More then too much to fit her idle braines)
Besides, she payd (not counting muffes and ruffes)
Foure pounds sixe shillings for two paire of cuffes.
'Twill make a man halfe mad, such wormes as those,
The generall gifts of God should thus ingrosse:
And that such numbers want their needfull vse,
Whilst hellish Pride peruerts them to abuse.
Now a few lines to paper I will put,
Of mens Beards strange and variable cut:
In which there's some doe take as vaine a Pride,
As almost in all other things beside.
Some are reap'd most sudstantiall, like a brush,
Which makes a Nat'rall wit knowne by the bush:
(And in my time of some men I haue heard,
Whose wisedome haue bin onely wealth and beard)
Many of these the prouerbe well doth fit,
Which sayes Bush naturall, More haire then wit.
Some seeme as they were starched stiffe and fine,
Like to the bristles of some angry swine:
And some (to set their Loues desire on edge)
Are cut and prun'de like to a quick set hedge.
Some like a spade, some like a forke, some square,
Some round, some mow'd like stubble, some starke bare,
Some sharpe Steletto fashion, dagger like,
That may with whispering a mans eyes out pike:
Some with the hammer cut, or Romane T,
Their beards extrauagant reform'd must be,
Some with the quadrate, some triangle fashion,
Some circular, some [...]uall in translation,
Some perpendicular in longitude,
Some like a thicket for their crassitude,
That heights, depths, bredths, triforme, square, ouall, round,
And rules Gec' metricall in beards are found,
Besides the vpper lip's strange variation,
Corrected from mutation to mutation;
As't were from tithing vnto tithing sent,
Pride giues to Pride continuall punishment.
Some ( spite their teeth) like thatch'd [...]ues downeward grows,
And some growes vpwards in despite their nose.
Some their mustatioes of such length doe keepe,
That very well they may a maunger sweepe:
Which in Beere, Ale, or Wine, they drinking plunge,
And sucke the liquor vp, as't were a Spunge;
But 'tis a Slouens beastly Pride, I thinke,
To wash his beard where other men must drinke.
And some (because they will not rob the cup,
Their vpper chaps like pot hookes are turn'd vp,
The Barbers thus (like Taylers) still must be,
Acquainted with each [...]uts variety:
[Page 35]Yet though with beards thus merrily I play,
'Tis onely against 'Pride which I inueigh:
For let them weare their haire or their attire,
According as their states or mindes desire,
So as no puff'd vp Pride their hearts possesse,
And they vse Gods good gifts with thankefulnesse.
aThere's many an idle shallow pated Gull,
Thinks his owne wisedome to be wonderfull:
And that the State themselues doe much forget,
Because he in authoritie's not set:
And hauing scarcely wit to rule a Cottage,
Thinks he could guide a Kingdome with his dotage.
True wisedome is mans onely guide and guard,
To liue here, to liue better afterward.
It is a rich mans chiefe preeminence,
And 'tis a poore mans stay, and best defence.
But worldly wisedome is the ground of all
The mischiefes that to man did euer fall.
Gods Wisedome is within the Gospel hid,
Which we to * search, are by our Sauiour bid.
Thus Pride of humane wisedome is all vaine,
And foolish fancies of mens idle braine.
d Pride of our knowledge, we away must throw,
For he knowes most, which least doth seeme to know:
One Apple from the Tree of life is more,
Then from the tree of knowledge halfe a score:
'Tis good for vs to know our Masters will,
But the not doing it, makes knowledge ill.
Ther's many know, the Iust in heau'n shall dwell,
Yet they vniustly runne the way to hell.
The life Eternall no way can be wonne,
But to know God, and * Iesus Christ his Sonne.
Christ (to his people) by his word and passion,
Taught men the ioyfull c knowledge of saluation.
[...]rather had by knowledge, raise my chance,
Then to be poore with barb'rous ignorance;
Yet better 'twere I nothing vnderstood,
Then to know goodnesse, and to doe no good.
Thus knowledge, worthy is of dignity;
But not to make the knowers proud thereby.
For if men would, to know themselues endeuer,
Pride of their knowledge would infect them neuer.
* Pride of our riches is a painefull pleasure,
Like sumpter horses laden with rich treasure,
[...]o misers beare their vvealth as they are able,
Till Death the hostler makes the graue their stable.
There's some take pride in treasure basely got,
Haue it, yet want it, as they had it not;
And though to get it, no vile meanes they spare,
To spend it on themselues they seldome dare;
How can a base extortionizing Bore,
Get riches ill, and giue God thankes therefore?
[...]Tis all one, if a thiefe, a bawde, a vvitch,
Or a Bribe-taker should grovv damned rich,
And for their trash, got vvith their hellish pranks,
The hypocriticke slaues vvill giue God thanks.
No, let the litter of such helhound vvhelps,
Giue thanks to th'Deuill (author of their helpes)
To giue God thanks, it is almost all one,
To make him partner in extortion.
Thus if men get their wealth by meanes that's euill,
Let them not giue God thanks but thāke the Deuill.
Yet wealth the gift of God hath euer bin,
But not such wealth that's onely got by sinne;
Nor any vvealth, if men take pride therein.
And those vvho pu [...] their foolish confidence
In Riches, trusting to their false defence;
Those that vvith Mammon are bevvitched so,
Our Sauiour 'gainst them threats a fearefull * vvoe.
Humility vvith Riches may be blest.
But Pride's a poyson God doth still detest.
a Pride of our Learning's vaine, it doth appeare,
For though men study many a vveary yeere,
And learn'd as much, as possible the braine,
Or scope of mans Inuentions may attaine,
Yet after all their studies, truth doth show,
Much more is vvhat they know not, then they know,
To learne by bad mens vices, vice to shunne,
By good mens good, vvhat should by vs be done:
This is the learning vve should practise most,
Not to be proud thereof, or vainely boast,
bA Princes fauour is a precious thing,
Yet it doth many vnto ruine bring;
Because the hauers of it proudly vse it,
And (to their ovvne ambitious ends) abuse it.
If men that are so stately and so strange,
Would but remember hovv time oft doth change,
And note hovv some in former times did speed,
cBy their examples they vvould take some heed:
For as a cart-wheele in the vvay goes round,
The spoake that's high'st is quickly at the ground,
So Enuy, or iust cause, or misconceit,
In Princes Courts, continually doe vvaite,
That he that is this day Magnifico,
To morrow may goe by Ieronimo.
The spoakes that now are highest in the wheeles,
Are in a moment lovvest by the heeles.
Haman was proud, past reasons bounds or scope,
And his vaine glory ended in a rope,
And his ten sonnes, in duty to obay
Their father, follovved him the selfe-same vvay.
Those men that harbour Pride vvithin their brest,
Doe seldome end their dayes in peace and rest.
But if they doe, disgrace and shame withall,
Are the chiefe vvayters on their funerall.
[Page 36]Where honour is with noble vertue mix'd,
It like a rocke stands permanent and fix'd,
The snares of enuy, or her traps of hate
Could neuer, nor shall euer hurt that stare:
Like Adamant it doth beat backe the battry
Of spitefull malice, and deceiuing flattry,
For it with pride can neuer be infected,
But humbly is supernally protected,
Such with their Kings shall euer be belou'd,
aAnd like to fixed starres, stand fast, vnmou'd.
Those that are proud of Beauty, let them know,
Their Pride is out a fickle, fading show.
A smoake, a bubble, a time-tossed toy,
A Luna-like, fraile, euer changing ioy.
For as a tide of flood, flow'd to the height,
Doth (in a moment) fall to ebbing straight:
So beauty, when it is most faire and fine,
(Like new pluck'd flowers) doth presently decline.
That man or womans vertue doth excell,
If with their beauty chastity doth dwell:
But Pride of beauty is a marke most sure,
That th'owners of it vse to procure
The Papbian pastime, and the Cyprian game,
The sports of Venus, and the acts of shame,
To breed the heat of Enpids lustfull flame.
Oft beauty hath faire chastity displac'd,
But chastity hath beauty euer grac'd.
For 'tis a maxime, Those haue euer bin,
That are most faire without, most foule within.
Too oft hath beauty, by disloyalty,
Branded it selfe with lasting infamy,
That one fraile creature, (nobly well descended)
(Proud of her fairenes) fouly hath offended,
And on her house and kindred, laid a blot,
That the dishonor ne'r will be forgot.
But a faire feature vertuously inclin'd,
A beauteous outside, and a pious mind,
Such are Gods Images Epitomies,
And Cabinets of heauens blest treasuries:
And therefore be thy feature, faire or foule,
Let inward vertues beautifie the soule.
b Pride of our strength, shewes weaknes in our wit,
Because the Collicke, or an Ague sit,
The rooth-ach, or the pricking of a pin,
Oft lets the strength out, and the weaknesse in.
The Tribe of Dans great glory, * Samsons strength,
By a weake woman was orethrowne at length.
And sure there's many do themselues much wrong
In being proud because they are made strong,
For a great number liuing now there are,
Can wrastle, throw the sledge, or pitch the barre,
That on their backs foure hudred waight can beare,
And horse-shooes (with their fists) in sunder teare,
Yet neuer vse their strength in any thing,
To serue their God, their Country, or their King.
But with outragious acts their liues pursue,
As if God gaue them strength but as their due,
As though they like the Gyants could remoue,
And hurle great mountaines at the head of Ioue,
Or like Gargantua or Polipheme,
Or Gogmagog, their boystrous fancies dreame,
That they more wonders by their strength can doe,
Then Hercules could e're attaine vnto.
Let those Goliabs, that in strength take pride,
Know that the Lord of Hostes doth them deride,
And what they are (that proudly brag and swell
Of strength) let any man but note them well,
If hurt or sickenesse make their strength decay,
A man shall neuer see such Cowes as they.
Be'ng strong, their minds on God they neuer set;
In weakenesse, iustly he doth them forget:
Strength, thus like headstrong Iades they doe abuse it,
For want of Reasons bridle how to vse it.
a Pride of our children's vaine; our proper stem
Must either dye from vs, or we from them.
If our examples of the life we liue,
Inrich them not more then the gifts we giue,
If (disobedient) they despise instruction,
And will peruersly runne into destruction;
Much better had it bin, we had not bin
Begetters of such Imps of shame and sinne.
Children no duty to such Parents owe,
Who suffer vice their youth to ouergrow,
Neglect to teach thy sonne in younger yeeres,
He shall reiect thee in thy hoary haires,
The way to make our children vs obay,
Is that our selues from God runne not astray,
Such measure to our Maker as we mete,
Tis iust, that such, we from our children get.
Th' Apostle Paul exhorteth more and lesse,
To be all children in maliciousnesse:
That is to say, as children harmeles be,
So we should from maliciousnes be free.
Thus Pride of birth, apparell, wealth, strength state,
And Pride of humane wisedome God doth hate:
Of knowledge, learning, beauty, children and
The Pride of Princes fauour cannot stand.
And Pride in any thing shall euermore,
Be bar'd and shut from heau'ns Eternall doore,
For whosoeuer will beleeue and looke,
Shall find examples in the sacred hooke:
That God hath euer 'gainst the proud withstood,
And that a proud heart neuer came to good.
He faith, Pride is * destruction, and agen
That Pride is * hatefull before God and men:
How Prides beginning is from God to fall,
And of all sinne is the * originall.
Who taketh hold on Pride, in great affliction
Shall be o'rethrowne, fild with Gods malediction, b
[Page 37] Pride was not made for man, man hath no part
In pride, for God * abherreth a proud heart,
And 'tis decreed by the Almighties doome,
That pride vnto a fearefull fall shall come.
A person that is prend, ne'r pleas'd God yet:
For how can they please him whom they forget?
Yet as before I said, againe Ile say,
That pride to such a hight is growne this day:
That many a thousand thousand familie,
Wer't not for pride would begge, or starue and dye.
And the most part of them are men of might,
Who in prides quarrell will both speake and fight:
I therefore haue no hope to put her downe,
But Satyre-like, to tell her of her owne.
There is another pride which I must touch,
It is so bad, so base, so too too much:
aWhich is, if any good mans fortune be,
To rise to Honourable dignitie,
Or through infirmity, or wilfulnesse,
Men fall vnhappily into distresse.
That Libellers doe spirt their wits like froth,
To raile at Honor, and dishonor both.
These Mungrell whelpes are euer snarling still,
Hating mens goodnesse, glorying in their ill,
Like blood-hound [...]rs, they daily hunt and sent,
And rime and Iigge on others detriment:
Supposing it a very vertuous thing,
To be an arrant Knaue in libelling.
Forsooth these Screech-owles would be cal'd the wits,
Whose flashes flye abroad by girds and fits:
Who doe their mangy Muses magnifie:
Making their sports of mens calamity,
But yet for all their hatefull hellith mirth,
They are the vilest cowards on the earth:
For there's not one that doth a libell frame,
Dares for his eares subscribe to it his name.
Tis a base brutish pride to take a pen,
And libell on the miseries of men;
For why all men are mortall, weake and fraile.
And all, from what they should be, fall and saile.
And therefore men should in these slip'ry times
Bewaile mens miseries, and hate their crimes:
Let him that stands, take heed he doth not fall.
And not reioyce in mens mis-haps at all.
It is too much for Libellers to meddle,
To make their Muse a Hangman or a Beadle:
At mens misfortunes to deride and iest,
To adde distresse to those that are distrest.
As I doe hold mens vices to be vile,
So at their miseries Ile neuer smile,
And in a word (left tediousnesse offend)
A Libelier's a Knaue, and there's an end.
Thus hauing of Prides various formes related,
And how of God, and good men it is hated:
I thinke it fit some Lines in praise to write,
Of Vertues which to Pride are opposite.
For vice with shew of Vertue blindes the eye,
And Vertue makes vice knowne apparantly.
When falsehood is examin'd and compar [...]d
With Truth, it makes truthhaue the more regard.
The Crow seemes blackest, when the Swan stands neere
And goodnes makes the ill most bad appeare:
So vertues that are contrary to vices,
Make them contemptible, and base in prices:
aHumility, if it be well embrac'd,
It makes disdainfull Pride, disdain'd, disgrac'd:
Humility is a most heauenly gift,
The Stayre that doth (to Glory) men vp lift.
None but the meeke and lowly humbled spirit
Shall true eternall happinesse inherit:
Those that are humble, honour *God alwayes,
And onely those will he to honour raise.
If thou be'st great in state, giue thanks therefore.
And humble still thy selfe, so much the more.
He that is humble, loues his Christian brother,
And thinkes himselfe * inferiour to all other:
Those that are meeke, the Lord shall euer guide,
And * teach them in his wayes still to abide.
For though the Lord be high, he hath respect
Vnto the * lowly, whom he will protect.
Humility, and lowlinesse goes on,
Still before honour, (as saith Salomon)
He that is humble heere and free from strife,
Shall for * reward haue glory, wealth, and life.
He that himselfe doth humble, certainly,
Our Sauiour saith, shall be * exalted high.
He that with Christ will weare a glorious Crowne,
Must cast himselfe, (as Christ did) humbly downe.
And like to the rebounding of a ball,
The way to rise, must first be, low to fall.
For God the Father will accept of none,
That put not on the meekenes of his Sonne:
If proudly, thou doe lift thy selfe on high,
God and his blessings, from thee, still will fly:
But if thou humble, meeke, and lowly be,
God and his blessings will come downe to thee.
If thou wouldst trauell vnto heau'n, then know,
Humility's the way that thou must goe.
If in presumptuous paths of Pride thou tread,
'Tis the right wrong way that to hell doth lead.
Know that thy birth, attire, strength, beauty, place,
Are giu'n vnto thee by Gods speciall grace:
Know that thy wisedome, learning, and thy wealth,
Thy life, thy Princes fauour, beauty, health,
[Page 38]And whatsoeuer thou canst goodnes call,
Was by Gods bounty giu'n vnto thee all.
And know that of thine owne thou dost possesse
Nothing but sinne, and wofull wretchednes,
A Christians pride should onely be in this,
When he can say that God his Father is.
When grace and mercy, (vvell applide) affoord,
To make him brother vnto Christ his Lord.
When he vnto the holy Ghost can say,
Thou art my Schoolemaster, whom I'le obay;
When he can call the Saints his fellovves, and
Say to the Angels, for my guard you stand,
This is a laudable, and Christian pride,
To knovv Christ, and to know him crucifi'd.
This is that meeke ambition, lovv aspiring,
Which all men should be earnest in desiring:
Thus to be proudly humble, is the thing,
Which vvill vs to the state of glory bring.
But yet bevvare; pride hypocriticall,
Puts not humilities cloake on at all:
A lofty mind, vvith lovvly cap and knee,
Is humble pride, and meeke hypocrisie.
Ambitious mindes, vvith adulating lookes,
Like courteous (Crovvne-aspiring) a Bullinbrookes,
As a great ship ill suited vvith small saile,
As Iudas meant all mischiefe, cride, All haile,
Like the humility of Absalon:
This shadovved pride, much danger vvaites vpon.
These are the counterseite (God saue yee Sirs)
That haue their flatteries in particulars,
That courteously can hide their proud intents,
Vnder varieties of complements,
These Vipers bend the knee, and kisse the hand,
And sweare, (svveet Sir) I am at your command,
And proudly make humility a screvv,
To vvring themselues into opinions vievv.
This pride is hatefull, dangerous, and vile,
And shall it selfe (at last) it selfe beguile.
Thus pride is deadly sin, and sin brings shame,
Which here I leaue to hell, from whence it came.
FINIS.

TO THE MOST HIGH AND ALMIGHTY God the Father, Creator of the World, and to the King of Kings, Lord of Lords, and onely Ruler of Princes, Iesus Christ, the Glorious Redeemer of the World, And to the most holy & Blessed Spirit, the Comfort of all true Beleeuers, and Sanctisier of the World, Three Persons, and one Eternall Omnipotent God.

MOst mighty, gracious, mercifull, and glorious God, that triest the heart, and searchest the reines, from whom no secret is hid; in the assurance of thy neuer-failing clemency, and hope of thy gracious acceptance, I humbly offer to thy most dread Maiestie, these my poore labours, which out of thine owne Word, and by and through thy bles­sed assistance, I haue (for the glory of thy great Name compiled) I ac­knowledge my selfe the meanest of men, and the most vnworthy of thy vnworthy seruants, to present my polluted & imperfect duty to thee, that art the Foun­taine of perfection, purity and holinesse; but thou that knowest mine intentions meeke and humble, free from the expectation of worldly applause, and onely ayming to repre­hend and reforme the too much, too frequent impieties of Cursing and Swearing, so hate­full to thee, and so abusiue to thy Law, vpon the knees of my heart I prostrate my selfe before the feete of thy Mercy seate, beseeching thee for thy Names sake (too much pro­phaned) for thy Glories sake, too much abused, for thy Sonnes sake, who with thy selfe art neglected, contemned and reuiled, that thou wilt be pleased to arise, O Lord, and scatter thine enemies; that though this worke of mine bee but weake, and I the worke­man far weaker, yet through my frailty be thou pleased to shew thy power; let my lines be like Shamgars Goad, Iudges, 3 31. Like Iaels Nayle, Iudges 4.21. Or che Iawe-bone which Samson fought withall, Iudges 15. Or Dauids Sling, 1. Sam. 17. That (through thy might) these accursed Philistines, with vncircumcised hearts, may be either amen­ded or confounded; That all the reuiling Rabshakehs may be made to know, that thou art icalous of thy glory: so blesse, I beseech thee, these my labours, that children reading them, may be seasoned with a feare and reuerence of thy Maiestic: that those who al­ready doe hate Cursing and Swearing, may hereby be the more confirmed in that godly hatred: That the wretched carelesse blasphemers and accursed takers of thy Name in vaine, may be ashamed & reformed, that thereby thou maist be glorified, thy Church cō ­forted and edified, and our sinfull liues amended, and finally our soules euerlastingly sa­ued, through thy meere and infinite mercy, and our blessed Sauiours boundlesse merits: To whom (with thee and the holy Ghost) be all praise, power and glory, now and for euer.

Thy Eternall Maiesties lowest and least of thy vngracious seruants, IOHN TAYLOR.

TO THE HIGH AND MIGHTY MONARCH, AND MY DREAD Soueraigne, CHARLES, by the Grace and Prouidence of God, King of Great Britaine, France and Ireland, Defender, &c.

My Gracious Soueraigne,

I Your Maiesties poore vndeserued seruant, hauing formerly (oftent [...]es) presented to your Highnesse many small Pamphlets (the best fruits of my leane and sterill inuention) and alwaies your Princely affability and beunty did expresse and manifest your Royall and generous disposition: and whereas your Gracious Father (of euer blessed and famous memory) did not onely like and encourage, but also more then reward the barren glea­nings of my Poeticall inuentions: so now I am bold to present vnto your Maiestie this my best and superlatiue part of my last studies, I know (Roy­all Sir) that mans Pilgrimage here must haue a period; and as the Tr [...] falls East or West, so it rises, and He that knowes the heart, doth know that I doe (not hypocritically) take to heart, that many numberlesse Blasphe­mies, Curses and Oathes, which are carelesly, presumptuously and damnably breathed euery day, houre and minute, against the Almighty and infinite Maiestie of God: Sure I am, that God takes my part in resisting and writing against these crying crimes, and I am perswaded that your Maiestie hath an innated Christian hured of them, I likewise know that all good men doe abhorre and detest them; and as on the one side I will (or would) not be a Stoicke or Precisian, nor on the other side an Atheist, so in the mid-way I haue written this small Treatise, to expresse my selfe a Christian, and what a Christian in these points should be; and though the worke be small and rudely compil'd, though I (the Author) am altogether meritlesse of any good, yet is the matter great, and so great, that it merits the protection of all such as doe acknowledge there is a God. Where­fore I humbly beseech your Maiestie to accept and Patronize this poore labour of mine, that your powerfull approuement of it, may make it passe thorow all your Kingdomes and Territories Cum Priuilegio, that children by reading it in their youths, may haue an ingrafted hatred of these sinnes; that elder people may thereby here formed from them; that all in generall may loath and abhorre them; that God may be honoured, and our soules eternally saued.

Your Maiesties humble Subiect and seruant, IOHN TAYLOR.

AGAINST CVRSING AND SVVEARING.

GOD, by whose incomprehensible power all things were made of no­thing, Genesis 1. By whose vnspea­kable mercy all true Beleeuers are Redeemed, Isay 52, 3. By whose Almighty Prouidence, all things (great and small) are conserued, Mat. 10. 29. And nothing can passe without it, Pro. 16. 33. Whose Name is holy, Luke 1. 49. Whose name is a strong Towre to defend the Righteous, Pro. 28. 10. And a consuming fire against obstinate impe­nitent sinners, Deut. 4. 24. Who is a jealous and reuenging God, Nahum. 1. 2. Who filleth Heauen and Earth, and seeth all things, Ie­remie 23. 24. Who is the Lord of Hosts, 2 Sem. 6. 17, 18. Who hath sworne by Himselfe, that to him euery knee shall bow in feare and reuerence of his dreadfull Maiesty, Isay, 45. 23. Who hath beene so gracious, that he hath made Man onely for his owne seruice, and so bountifull, that he hath made all other Crea­tures for the seruice of Man: who blessed him, and gaue him power to blesse in the glorious Name of the Lord of Hosts, 2 Sam. 6. 17, 18. Who in a fearefull voyce of Thunder, did in mount Sinai proclaime his sacred Law, and de­nounced this dreadfull and terrible Iudge­ment, that he would not hold him guiltlesse that takes his name in vaine, euen that God hath forbidden vs to curse. Exod 20. 7.

But to blesse them that Curse vs, Rom. 12. 14. Luke 6. 28. Mat. 5.44. Yet neuerthelesse, by the temptation of that old and irreconciliable enemy of God and Man, by the malice and mischiefe of that old Dragon and subtill Ser­pent the Deuill, Man hath mounted and spred to such a height and bredth these execrable vices of Cursing, Swearing and Blasphe­ming, that all estates and conditions, high and low, great and small, oldor young, male and female, are vniuersally possessed with these impieties, and by long custome it is in a manner almost as naturall as eating, drinking or sleeping, as though there were no God that had forbad these crying crimes, or no hell reserued for a punishment of them.

In this small Treatise I doe not put pose to condemne all sorts of Cursing or Swearing, for that were to declare and pronounce my selfe Accursed: but my intent is (as God plea­seth to enable me) to declare how farre these two brethren Curses and Oathes are lawfull or vnlawfull: and because I find Cursing to be the most elder and of most antiquity, I pur­pose first to shew (as farre as I haue assured warrant) my opinion concerning Curses and Execrations.

Curses and Cursing are deuided into foure seuerall kindes.

As
  • First, From God to Man,
  • Secondly, From Man to Man.
  • Thirdly, From Man to himselfe.
  • Fourthly, From Man to God.

The first is Iust, for God did neuer Curse any Man, Family, Tribe, Kingdome or Na­tion, but, there was a iust deseruing of that Curse: for Man being altogether sinfull, and God infinitely Iust, Gods Curse is due and iust for the transgression of Man.

[Page 42]The Second is vncharitable, as when one Man curseth another, for all Men (that are Christians) who haue one and the same Re­demption in the blood of Christ [...]esus, who doe in the Lords Prayer call God Our Father, are forbidden to Curse, and commanded to them that Curse vs.

The third is, when a man shall Curse himselfe, which is more vncharitable, for Chari­ty should begin ar home: and can that man be thought to wish well to any man, that wi­sheth hurt to himselfe? or may it be concei­ued, that he that is so gracelesse to Curse him­selfe, hath the grace to pray for another?

The fourth is, when Man doth Curse God, (which is most damnable) for can there be a most execrable sinne, then such impious in­gratitude, that the Creature should Curse the Creator [...] that the redeemed should Blas­pheme hir Redeemer: or that impiety should mount to such a height of impudency as to curse' the blessed Spirit?

Of these foure in Order.

FOr the first, God did most iustly Curse our first Parents in Paradise, and in all People and Nations (being of their of-spring) are originally polluted with their transhressions, and miserable subiects to the same Curse, and doe all generally vndergoe the same pu­nishment, which is, that the Man shall eate his Bread in sorrow, labour, and in the sweate of his face all the dayes of his life, and that the Womaman shall bring forth her children in paine and sorrow, and be subiect to the rule of her husband, Genesis 3.

Also the same time God Cursed the Earth (for the sinne of Adam) which Curse was, that it should bring forth Thornes and Thi­stles, and without mans great toyle and la­bour, the Earth doth yeeld vs very small suste­nance.

Likewise God did most iustly Curse Kain for murthering his innocent brother Abel [...] the Curse was, that Kain should be a vagabond, and a runnagate vpon the face of the Earth, and that his labours should be accursed; for when he tilled the ground, it should not yeeld the strength of her fertility vnto him, Gen. 4.

In the 26. of Leuiticus, God doth denounce most fearefull Curses against all wilfull & ob­stinate transgressors of his Law, as first that he will afflict their bodies with diseases, verse 16. And that he will set his face against them, that they shall fall before their enemies, and bee subiect vnto them: That hee will make their Heauen as Iron, and their Earth as Brasse. That their labour and strength shall be spent in vaine, and that their Trees shall bee frui [...] lesse: That the Sword, Pestilence and Famine, shall make them desolate.

Furthermore in the 28. of Deutoren [...]mie, from the 16. verse to the end of the Chapter, there is nothing but the dreadfull Curses of Almightie God against the contemners and prophane breakers of his Testimonies.

Likewise in the 27. of Deut. are 12. Curses denounced against rebellious and carelesse of­fenders.

In Genesis 9. 3. God doth promise Abrs­ham to Curse those that Curse him.

God in the 29. of Ieremie and 17. verse, doth by the mouth of the Prophet threaten the de­struction of Ierusalem with their King and peo­ple, with the Curses of Famine, Sword and Pestilence, and that they should be a reproch and an hissing, or a contempt, scorne, and terrour to all Nations and Kingdomes of the Earth.

Also the same Prophet in the 48. Chapter verse 10. doth Curse all those that are negli­gent in doing the worke of the Lord: from which Curse none are excluded, be they high or low, rich or poore, Ecclesiasticall or Ciuill.

The Lord doth also declare all men accur­sed that trust in the helpe or power of Man, making weake flesh their arme or defence, and distrusting the mighty power of the Almigh­ty, Ierem. 17. 5.

In the second of Samuel, chap. 3. verse 29. the Kingly Prophet Dauid doth denounce a bitter [Page 43] Curse vpon Ioab and his posterity, because Ioab had treacherously slaine Abner the son of Ner, (the laid Abner hauing King Dauid's leaue to goe in peace) the which Curse fell vpon Ioab afterward: for when Dauid was in his death-bed, he gaue a charge to his sonne King Salomon, 1 King, chap. 2. and 5. [...]verse, that because Ioab had slaine Abner, and Amasa (2 S [...]m. 20.10.) against the Law of Armes, or the Kings permission or knowledge, that Sa­lomon should not suffer his gray head to goe to the Graue in peace, which Curse was accom­plished, for Salomon sent Benaiah with a com­mand to kill him, which was accordingly per­formed in the Tabernac'e at Ierusalem, close by the Alter, whither Ioab was fled, in hope the holinesse and dignity o [...] he place would haue beene his refuge and sanctuary from the in­dignation of the King, [...] Kings 2. 34.

Our Sauiour Christ in the 23. of Saint Ma­thew, doth denounce 8. seuerall Curses or woes against the Hypocriticall Seribes and Pharesies: and in the 23. chapter the miserable damned are described by the name of Goates, who standing on the left hand, are inforced to heare that vnrecouerable sentence of, Depart ye Cursed, into euerlasting fire, prepared for the De­uill and his anels.

The holy Patriacrk Noah did propehtically Curse all the posterity of his sonne Cham, which Curse stands in force against all those that are disobedient to their Princes, Parents, Magistrates and Gouernours, Genesis.9.25.

The vniuersall flood, wherein all mankind perished (except eight persons) was Gods dreadfull and consuming Curse, for the mani­fold and insupportable sinnes of the whole world, Genesis 7.

The Patriarke [...]saack (by the spirit of pro­phecie, by Gods appointment) did pronounce all those to be Cursed that Cursed Iaob, Gene­sis 27. 29.

The Prophets generally in sundry places doe (by the direction of the holy Ghost) pro­claime many Curses against the enemies of God, and contemners of his Commande­ments.

These are the first sort of Curses, namely from Gods iust Iudgements, either by him­selfe, his Patriarckes, Prophets, or by his Sonne our Sauiour Christ Iesus, These man­ner of Cursings, are Man [...]owne deseruings, and therefore they are for Gods glory in the punishment of sinners.

The second, Curses from Man to Man.

THis kind of Cursing is altogether against the rules of Christianity and Charity, for all Christians being members of one head, which is Christ Iesus, who is the fountaine of all blessing and blessednesse, it followeth by consequence, that all those who are addicted to Cursing or Cursed speeches, are not mem­bers of that Head of blessednesse.

Balaam the Prophet desireth and wisheth to dye the death of the righteous, and yet in the 22. of Numbers, Balak King of the Moa­bites did so corrupt the Prophets conscience with the hope of reward or a bribe, that hee was willing to Curse the people of Israel: and though God in the 12. verse of the same chapter, doth forbid Balaam to Curse them, saying vnto him, They are blessed: yet did couetousnesse so blind him, that hee dared to aske or expect Gods leaue the second time to Curse them, verse 19. which leaue or per­mission hee thought hee had got, but that his Asse, before himselfe, saw the resisting power of the Almightie, verse 27.

When Alsal [...] rebelled against his father Dauid, and that Dauid in great extremity was forced to flee, whilst his sonne pursued him, 2 Sumuel, 16. Shimei the sonne of [...]ra, ran to­wards King Dauid, reuiling and Cursing him, saying, that all the blood that was shed of the house and family of Saul, was by Gods Iustice fallen vpon his head, and that the Lord had depriued him of his Kingdome, and giuen it to his sonne. Absalen.

Here you see, that although God hath commanded vs to pray for all men, and not to curse one another, yet this wicked wretch Shimei, did Curse his King, his Soueraigne, the Lords anoynted, a Prophet, a type of [Page 44] Christ, and a man after Gods owne heart.

This is one infallible marke or token where­by the good and bad may be distinguished and knowne one from another, that the wicked doth Curse the Godly, and wish them hurt, and the godly doth pray for the good conuer­sion of the wicked, and wish them all earthly and heauenly happines.

The Wise-man giueth good counsell to all people in the 10. of Ecclesiastes, verse 20. Curse not the King, no, not in thy thought, neither Curse the rich man in thy bed cham­ber, for the sowle of the Heauen shall carry the voyce, and that which hath wings, shall declare the matter. The Apostle doth exhort, that prayers, intercessions and giuing of thanks be made for all men, and namely and espe­cially for Kings, and all that be in authority, 1 Timethy, 2. 1, 2. and in the 1 Peter, 2. Wee are commanded to feare God and honour the King. Whereby it is plaine, that whosoeuer doth Curse the Prince or Ruler, doth Curse Gods Deputy, and Ordinance, for the which sinne they must neuer expect any other wayes, but the wayes of the Accursed: besides in ma­ny places of the Scripture we are commanded to pray one for another, and not in any place we are bid to Curse, but the contrary wee are inioyned to blesse those that Curse vs, and pray for them which hurt vs, Luke 6. 28.

The Curses of wicked persons are like ar­rowes shot vpright, which are likely to fall vpon the heads of the shooters, or as feathers cast into the wind, which fly backe in the face of him or her that throw them: yet is Cursing the last and poorest reuenge that can bee had for any iniury; as when men are oppressed or ouer-borne, that they haue no power or meanes to helpe or redresse themselues, when friends, credit, power, and money doe faile, yet Cursing remaines, as long as breath lasts, they haue a bottomlesse inexhaustible treasure of Curses, to bestow vpon any man, whom they know or imagine hath wronged them. But herein they shew how negligent they are in following the example of our Sauiour, who prayed earnestly for his enemies, yea euen for those that persecuted him to the most shamefull death of the Crosse, with these words, Father, forgiue them, they know not what they doe. Yet doth the Prophet Dauid Curse his enemies most bitterly in the 55. Psalme and verse 15. and Psalme 59. verse 3. and Psalme 140. 9, 10. But it must be considered, that those whom Dauid did Curse, were Atheists, Heathen, Infidels, mali­cious vnrepentant Idolaters, and blasphe­mers of the Diuine Maiestie, and so they were Gods enemies, and therefore Dauid by the Spirit of God had warrant to Curse them: and yet if Dauid had Cursed his owne peculiar enemies, it had beene no example for our imitation, for wee are not to take the infirmities of the best and most glorious Saints and seruants of God, for the Paterns to rule and square our liues by, but it must be their vertuous conuersation, that we all must take for our direction.

Holy Iob and Ieremie in their afflictions, in the their fraile passions, did curse the dayes of thir birth, Iob 3. Ieremie 20. 14, 15, 16.

It is fearefull to heare in these dayes, with what feruency people doe Curse one another, and how dull and coldly they pray to God either to auoide his Curse, or obtaine his blessing: Parents to their children, wiues and husbands, all degrees wishing most heauy Iudgements of God, to fall one vpon another, that although the Plague be but newly (by the great Father of mercy) taken from vs, yet the mouthes of many are filled with the cursed de­sire, and daily wishing for it againe. But, my deare brother, I heartily beseech thee, as thou hast a hope to heare one day that blessed voyce in the 25. of Saint Mathew, of Come ye blessed, by the hope and trust that you haue it shall be spo­ken to you, auoide all manner of Cursing and bitter excerations. And this shall suffice to fi­nish this second part of this Treatise, namely, the Curse of Man to Man.

The third, when Man Curseth himselfe.

THose Kinde of Cursers are most desperate daring sort of wretches, who doe make [Page 45] so small account of the Curse that any man can pronounce or wish against them, that they dare to desire Gods heauy Curses to fall vpon themselues and their families; yea they are so hellish-mad, that they will beate their brests, and with lowd clamours (as it were) meete the vengeance of Heauen halfe-way, to plucke it on their heads: would so many else in theit desperate madnes desire God to Damne hein, to Renbunce them, to Forsake them, to Confound them, to Sinke them, to Refuse them? and would so many so earnestly beseech the Deuill to take them, and Hell to receiue them, if they did either loue Heauen, hate Hell, or loue themselues? If they beleeued there were eternall Glory prepared for the Blessed, and euerlasting torments for the Accursed, they would neuer so violently wish, or desire the other.

When Pontius Pilate sate in Iudgement vpon our Sauiour Iesus Christ, his conscience knowing, and his tongue affirming Christ to be iust, yet himselfe, called himselfe inno­cent of his blood, although hee pronounced the vniust Sentence of death against him, say­ing to the people, I am innocen [...] of the blood of this lust man [...], looke you to it. The people pre­sently answered all, and said, His blood bee vpon vs, and on our children, Math. 27. 24, 25. Which Curse how it tooke effect vpon them, you may reade in Iosephus first Booke of the warres of the Iewes, the 1. 2, and 3. chapters, how that within lesse then 50. yeeres, the Roman Emperour Vespasian with his sonne Ti­ [...]us, besieged Ierusalem eighteene months, in which space there dyed by Warre, Famine, and the Sword, eleuen hundred thousand of them, the City sacked and razed, and the Iewes carryed away into perpetuall slauery and cap­tiuity, because they bought and sold the Sonne of God for thirty pence: where, for a further manifestation of the former Curse; which they wished to fall on them and their poste­rity, we see the Iewes at this day haue conti­nued these sixteene hundred yeeres a disper­sed and despised Nation ouer all the Earth, being scorned and afflicted more then any others, hauing neither Gouernment or Com­monwealth, but in most miserable bondage both of soule and body, depriued both of heauenly doctrine, and earthly comfort.

The Apostle Saint Peter Cursed himselfe, Math. 26, 74. But this was a suffering or per­mission of God, whereby hee might know his owne weakenesse, that so confidently would promise his Master (Christ) neuer to deny him; and this example of Peters fall is left for our instruction, as a Glasse or Mirrour of our humane frailty, that seeing so glorious an Apostle and Saint of God, when he pre­sumed of himselfe, to haue most ability of strength that then he fell most fearefully; how then can we, who are so many degrees short of his perfection, so many steps below him in life and conuersation? how can wee (I say) haue that foolish impudence, as to put any trust or confidence in our owne strength, (which is but smoake) or any thing but an as­sured faith in Christ Iesus? But there are too too many that imitate the frailty of this blessed Saint, in denying Christ, and Cursing them­selues: but the number are but few which doe repent as Peter did, and goe out and weepe bitterly; which true repentance and vnsained contrition, must be the meanes for the attain­ment of Gods pardon in our sins remission.

Note the seruant loue of that man of God, Moses, Exodus, 32. 32. Which for the zeale which he bore to the glory of God, the encrease of the Church, and the hearty affection of the people when they had prouoked the Lords wrath, that hee was ready to consume them for their idolatry with the Golden Calfe, then Moses prayed for them, that if God would not pardon their sinne, hee prayed that he might be for euer blotted out of the Booke of life, so much he did preferre Gods glory, that rather then it should be so diminished, he desired to vndergoe the grieuous Curse of eternall dam­nation.

The like example of zeale to Gods glory and loue, of the forlorne and reiected Iewes, is expressed by Saint Paul, Romans, 9. 3. Where he saith, For I would wish myselfe to be separated from Christ, for my brethren, that are my kinsmen according to the flesh. Thus these two bles­sed [Page 46] Lamps, or Beacons (which God appoin­ted to illuminate his Church) did desire the dreadfull Curse of Gods heauy and eternall wrath to fall vpon them for euer, rather then Gods honour should be violated, or their bre­thren befor euer reprobates. These two last Curses of Moses and Paul, against themselues, were so great and good examples of true zeale to God, and loue to our neighbours, that though it be long since they liued, yet I haue not read or heard of any that euer imitated them. Moses as a Type of Christ before his In­carnation, and Paul as a follower of Christs example after his bitter death and passion, did both wish themselues to be accursed, to the end that thereby so many of their misera­beb rethren might be blessed: so our Sauiour Christ, (though hee were, and is the foun­taine of all blessing) yet hee was contented to be made a Curse for as many as would lay hold on the promises of God by faith in him, Galatians 3, 23, 14. And thus I conclude my third part of this Treatise, of Man Cursing him­selfe.

Fourthly, When Man Curseth or Blasphe­meth God.

THis sinne is (as it may rightly be called) a degree beyond sinne: for this is the sword, which the Deuill doth put into mad­mens hands, wherewith they doe wound themselues mortally: for there were neuer yet any, that durst to lift vp this Cursed wea­pon of Blasphemy against God, but that the point thereof did alwayes turne into their owne bosomes, to their destructions, or most grieuous calamities, as Pharaoh, when hee said, Who is the Lord? I know not the Lord, nei­ther will I le [...] Israel goe, Exodus, 5. 2. and Senna­cherib King of Assyria, by the mouth of his seruant Rabshakeh, blasphemed the Name of the Lord of Hoasts, 2. Kings 18. Where he doth impiously extoll the Heathen Idols, aboue the God of Israel, saying (verse 34. and 35.) Whence is the God of Hamath, and of Arpad? Where is the God of Sepharuatm, Heua and Iuab? How haue they deliuered Samaria out of mine hand? The like did Holophernes, Iudith, 6. 3. when he threatned the Israelites in Bethuliah, saying, That their God should not deliuer them. When he had set vp his golden Image, threatning all that would not fall down and worship it, with most cruell torments to death, he proudly said, Who is that God that can deliuer you out of mine hands?

Nicanor, Lieutenant Generall or Captaine of the Host of King Demetrius, 2. Machabeus, 15. Against Iudas Machabeus and the Host of Israel, whom he purposed to inuade vpon the Sabbath day, said, verse 3. Is there a Lord in Heauen, that commandeth the Sabbath day to be kept and (verse 4.) when they said, There is a liui [...] Lord which ruleth in the Heauen, who commanded the seuenth day to be kept, then he said, And I am mighty vpon Earth to command them for to arms themselues, and to performe the Kings busines.

But this Blasphemons miscreant had his hire: for he lost 35000. of his men in the bat­tell, and himselfe was slaine, and his head, hand and shoulder, brought in triumph to the City of Ierusalem, and his accursed tongue cut out, and cut in small pieces, and giuen to the fowles of the Ayre, as the same chapte [...] doth declare.

The Scribes and Pharises (Marke 3. 22.) did Blaspheme our Sauiour, and said hee had: Deuill, and that through the power of Beelze­bub he did cast out Deuils out of the possessed.

But as the liues of these, and all other Blas­phemers were odious and execrable, so were their deaths and punishments miserable and remarkable: for Pharaoh (after the enduring of many most grieuous plagues) lost his King­dome and his life, he and all his Army being drowned in the red Sea, Exod. 14. 27, 28. Sen­nacherib for his Blasphemy, lost in one night 185000. men, all of them being slaine by the Angell of the Lord, himselfe being forced to flee to saue his life: where, at his returne to his Kingdome, he was slaine by his owne sonnes in the Temple at Nineueh, as he was at the vn­godly worship of his god Nisroch, 2. Kings, 19. 37.

Holophernes, (that blasphemous Champion) [Page 47] was by Gods iust Iudgement, being asleepe in his Tent, and drunken, although he were in his Camp amidst a great Army of his owne rusty Souldiers, yet was his head smote from his shoulders (by a woman) and carried [...]nto the City of Bethulia, and there vpon the highest place of the walles set vp in memoriall of Gods vengeance, and his peoples victory, [...]deth, 14. 1.

Nebuchàdnezzar was for his blasphemy depriued of his manly reason and Kingdome, [...]nd for seuen yeeres space, liued as a beast a­mong the beasts of the field, Daniel, 4. 30.

The Scribes and Pharises, who were the on­ [...]y men in reuerend estimation amongst the [...]ewes (as being the writers and expounders of the Lawes, for their blasphemy were de­liuered vp into most miserable captiuity and [...]erpetuall slauery, as is before expressed.

God is iealous of the honour of his Name, that he commanded the blasphemer [...]o be stoned to death, Leuiticus, 24. 14. Which was forthwith executed vpon him in the [...]3. verse.

For which cause, when that blessed man Iob was in his greatest afflictions, sitting in [...]shes, full of Byles and sores, then his wife perswaded him to Curse or blaspheme God and dye, Iob, 2. 9. She well knowing that the Law was so strict, that for euery such [...]ffence there was a speedy execution of death, and so by that meanes shee would haue per­swaded him to haue been quickly dispatched out of his paine and misery.

Briefly then to conclude this short Trea­tise Cursing, I beseech you brethren, by the [...]percies of God, that you all haue an especiall [...]are, not to blaspheme the holy and glorious Name of our good and gracious Creator, Redeemer and Sanctifier, that we by our Cur­sing, doe not turne his blessings into a Curse vpon vs and our posterity, here and eternally thereafter, that wee bee not so much out of [...]oue, charity, and obedience, as to Curse our Superiours, neighbours, or any other per­sons, or lastly, that wee bee not so wilfully [...]ad, to Curse ourselues: all which Cursed [...]eanes, are the causes to plucke downe vpon our heads the dreadfull Curses of the Almigh­ty, as it hath done in all times and ages vpon Blasphemers and Cursers.

Against Swearing.

WHen man hath so farre offended God by his disobedience, that hee had thereby purchased to himselfe and all his posterity perpetuall damnation, not knowing which way to turne himselfe from the Almighties wrath, and much lesse knowing how to bee repossest in his fauour, when vndeserued, vnknowne, vnhoped for mans infinite misery, was to bee cured by his Creators infinite mercy, then at that time if God had giuen man leaue to aske some great gift which he might be redeemed by, had he had licence to desire or request what he would, that might be sacrificed to God to satisfie his Iustice for sinne, and to recouer that eternall happinesse which was most miserably lost. If man had had this liberty to aske and chuse a Redeemer, surely I am verily perswaded, that he would neuer haue beene so bold as to haue requested God to giue his well-beloued onely begotten Sonne to be crucified for him, as in these dayes a condemned malefactor would be vndiscreet and vnkind, if he should intreat his innocent friend to dye for him, but if hee should request the Iudge on the Bench, or the King on his Throane, that either of them would doe him the fauour as to suffer his sonne to be executed for him, if an offender should make such an vnreasonable request, I ima­gine he would either be accounted mad or im­pudently foolish.

Seeing the case was such that man was al­together in misery remedilesse, then did the God of mercy and Father of all consolation shew himselfe to bee in mercy boundlesse, [Page 48] then did he promise to send his Sonne to be a Sauiour and Redeemer for as many as before and after his comming, should lay hold on the merits of his death and passion, which hee suffered for the Redemption of all true belee­uers.

At last (in the fulnesse of time) the eternall God-head was pleased to be so far abased as to leaue the blessed heauens, to visit personally the cursed earth, to forsake the glorious Throne, and Crowne of vnspeakeable glory and Maiestie, and by taking our fraile nature vpon him in the wombe of the Virgin, to vn­dergoe all shame and calamitie, and after ma­ny trauels, and suffering innumerable reproa­ches, to take the sinnes and transgressions of the whole World vpon his shoulders, and (being free from sinne) was made sinne for vs, and to redeeme vs from the Curse of the Law, and the eternall wrath of God his Father, was pleased to offer himselfe for a sacrifice of pro­pitiation and reconciliation; and to purchase vs eternall glory, by his ignominious, cruell, and shamefull death of the Crosse.

This was a Loue, transcending all Loue so farre, that no heart of Man or Angell could euer conceiue the last part of it, that the King of Kings, Lords of Lords, should wil­lingly and freely dye for his mortall enemies.

Seeing that Gods loue was so infinite to vs so many wayes, as in creating vs, not Beasts or Vermine, but Men, in redeeming vs (when we wer in captiuity to the Deuill for euer) with no lesse price then the precious heart blood of his owne Sonne, for these and the rest of the multitude of his mercies: let vs all in generall, and euery Swearer and Blasphemer in parti­cular, examine our consciences, how we doe with thankefulnesse requite this our good and gracious God, for his vnmeasurable loue and mercy towards vs.

How many of vs, with very little search, may finde our bosomes cram'd full of rebelli­ous treacheries, ingratitude, that in stead of giuing God glory, praise, and thankes for all his benefits, doe most accursedly, (or malici­ously) sweare him ouer and ouer, from the head, to the foot, not leauing any part or at­tribute of him vnabused, or not sworne by his body, his soule, his sides, his heart, his wounds, his blood, his entrailes, his bones, his feet, nay, they will not forbeare him [...] much as his nailes; so that the Iewes were more kind and lesse cruell in crucifying of him for they meddled neither with his soule or his bones: but these wicked miscreants (who are falsly called Christians) doe their best enda­uours with all deuillis [...] greedinesse, to cruci [...] againe the Lord of life, and to teare him in pieces with oathes betwixt their cursed teeth.

I haue read in the Turkish History, that is the a battell betwixt Amurath third Emperour of the Turkes, and Lazarus Despot of Ser [...] that the Archers were so many in the Turkish Army, that in the fight they did as it were raine in showres vpon the Christians, and with the multitude of the Arrowes like a clou [...] they darkned the earth. And it is to be feared that euery houre in the day, more oathes and shot at the Maiesty of God, by wicked C [...] ­tiffes, then the Turks did shoot Arrowers [...] the Christians in that battell; so that if our Sa­uiour had come into the World with a pur­pose to worke our perpetuall destruction, and that the Deuill had beene the best friend we had in our redemption, if it had or could haue beene so, could men striue either to require the loue of the one, with more seruice, or the malice of the other with more abuse? for Swea­ring is now in such high request, that some man doth hold it a disparagement to his repu­tation not to sweare; but to goe to Church, he thinkes it too ciuill a course: or to giue God thankes either before, or after meales, he is al­together ashamed, and like a Micher muffles his face in his hat, saying sometimes either nothing, or nothing that any man can hears or vnderstand: but to sweare and abuse the Name of God he is neuer ashamed, but with open mouth he roares out his oathes, stam­ping with his feete, and beating his brest with more feruency then he said his prayers.

I haue heard a swearer most earnestly pray now and then to God, but it hath beene [...] beseech God to damne him, or forsake him and on the other side I haue heard the same [Page 49] Rescall to beg and entreat the Deuill to take his soule and body, making such great ac­count of Hell, that rather then hee would goe without it, hee will request his bread, meat, or drinke to be his damnation; but to desire God to forgiue his sins, or to be thanke­full for all his benefits, to entreat saluation by true repentance [...], through the merits of Christ Iesus, these are things which he esteemes not worth the asking for, & altogether against the garbe of his Gentleman-like humour.

Now iudge with thy selfe, whosoeuer thou beest that reads this, dost thou thinke thou dealest well with God, and that hee deserues no better vsage at thy hands? A good name, as Salomon faith, is as a precious Oyntment, and men are so chary and wary, that they will by all meanes auoyd any scandall or dishonour of their names, and it is Capitall Treason for any subiect to abuse or vilifie his King or Prin­ces name: Yet is God, who is Almighty, AEternall, Incomprehensible, the God of all glory, Empires, Kingdomes, Principalities and Powers, whose name is Wonderfull, [...]y, and Iust; at whose, Name euery knee should bow with feare and reuerence, before whose Throne the blessed Armies of Cherubins, Se­raphins, Archangel;, Angels, Patriarkes, Prophets, Apostles, Saints, and Martyrs doe continually sing Hallelutsh: This great God, whom the very Deuils in Hell doe be­leeue, and feare and tremble at his dreadfull wrath, Iames 1.19. yet doth the earth breed mon­sters worse then Deuils, and retaines and seedes more accursed fiends then Hell doth, who with their vngodly breath, doe as often as they can, belch their odious oathes and blasphemie, against the maiestie of their Im­mortall Maker and Redeemer, without any feeling or touch of conscience, insomuch that they would be ashamed to vse their enemies, or their vassals, or slaue in such contemptible manner, as they doe their God and Sauiour, and they would be highly offended to haue halfe the like abuse offered to themselues; and which is more, they would and should be all hangd, or worse, if they spake but one quarter of such treason against their naturall King, as they doe against the Immortall King of Kings.

A Seruant is the better to be beloued or ha­ted for so much as in respect the Master whom he serueth bee good or bad: and can any vil­laines deserue more to bee hated, abhorred and spewed out of the company of Christians, then common swearers, (the Deuils best ser­uants) who are the Archtraitonrs against the Maiesty of Heauen? who like the foole doe say in their heart, that there is no God, and so doe hold the third Commandement to bee a fable, where God forbids swearing, saying, That hee will not hold him guiltlesse that ta­keth his name in vaine.

Oh what a miserable case shall those wret­ched soules be in, who at the dreadfull Barre of Gods Iudgement shall be by the Lord con­demned and iudged guilty of swearing, for­swearing, blasphemy, and taking of the name of the Lord in vaine?

Suppose a man were tranailing alone vpon some Plaine, Heath, or Desart, where many crosse wayes lead towards diuers places, and hee being a stranger (and amazed) goes on, not knowing whether he goe right or wrong, at last, by chance hee espieth a man, and ask­eth him it hee be in the way to such a place or no? The party answers him, that hee is quite out of his way a mile, (or halfe a mile, more or lesse) but faith he, I will shew you how you may with lesse trauaile come into your way againe: then hee directeth him to take his course crosse to such a Tree, or House, or Gate, or other marke, and so consequently sheweth him the easiest meanes to find his way againe: for which courresie what thanke the I rauai­ler will giue him, and say that if euer it lyeth in his power, that he will require his kindnes in a larger measure. On the contrary, let a man heare a wretch curse, blaspheme, and sweare, and say to him, My friend you are quite out of the way to Heauen, and if you doe hold that course, you will neuer come thither, for you are now going downe hill, the high broad way to the Deuill. If a man should tell a pro­phane swearer this, all the thankes hee should haue, would be contempt, derision, scorne, [Page 50] and hard words, or perhaps a right roaring Rascall would be so liberall as to sweare ten or twelue oathes more, and bestow a knocke or a stab vpon him that mildely reproued him.

If the penalty of twelue pence for euery oath had bene duely payd (as the Statute hath in that case prouided: I doe verily beleeue, that all the coyned money in England would haue beene forfeited that way: for little chil­dren that can scarce goe or speake plaine, can make a shift to sweare lispingly. Meate, drinke, cloathing, or any neceflaries that we vse, or any bargaine, buying or selling, doe very sel­dome passe betwixt party and party, without oathes, swearing, and oftentimes falsly; so that commonly it is no match, except the name of God be abused in it: At Dice, Cards, Bowles, or at any other game or recreation, it is la­mentable to heare how vngodly villaines will outdare the Deuils in Hell, in abusing he glo­rious Name of God. And I verily thinke that Venison is too oftentimes more vnseasonably seasond with oathes in the taking, then it is with cornes of Pepper & salt in the baking: so that if the Law were executed which St. Leuis King of France made, that euery Swearer & Blas­phemer should haue their tongues cut out; I am doubtfull that more then three quarters of the people in Christendome would be tongue­lesse: for in these dayes men are seldome wea­ried with swearing, as I haue read of an Ita­lian, that at his game was tyred in that kind, who commanded his man to helpe him to sweare, till he himselfe had gathered his breath againe.

And it is to be feared, that there are some who doe make a liuing or trade of swearing: as a fellow being asked once of what occupa­ [...]ion he was? made answer that he was a vit­nesse, which was one that for hire would sweare in any mans cause; be it right or wrong.

The veriest villaine that euer abused the name of God, may learne from a Dog to be a better Christian, for if he doe take a Whelpe & bring him vp, giuing him but meate fit for a Dog, he may see how the Curre will attend him, follow him, watch his house, and to the best of his abi­lity, guard and defend his Masters person from wrong or violence, and at no time he will euer forsake him, although he might haue a farre better Master: But if at any time hee should wax stubborne, and fly in his Masters face, otherwise bite him, then surely such a Master would either hang such a Dog, or knocke out his braines.

Thus as Salomon bids the sluggard goe to the Pismire, to learne labour and disigence, so I counsaile the blasphemous Swearer, to make his Dog his patterne, for his better behauiour; for, much worse then the worst of Dogs is he, that knowes God to be his Maker, Redeemer, preseruer, conseruer and keeper, and yet for all this a contrary to his knowledge, & against his conscience, will audaciously, impiously, and ingratefully reuile, raile & blaspheme the glorious, name of this his most bountifull and mercifull God.

Hee that reuiles, or scandals his Soue­raigne Prince is rightly accounted worthy to dye the death of a Traitor: and whosoeuer doe abuse, slander or impeach the reputation of Iudges, Rulers and Magistrates, there is a Pillo­ry, a whipping, with sometimes losse of eares, and goods, for an exemplary punishment. Theeues are hangd for stealing, and inconti­nent persons are sometimes punished for adul­try and fornication: but swearing and abu­sing the name of God, is esteemed lesse then a veniall sinne, being (by regardlesse conni­uence) rather approued, then reproued, and as it were by intolerable toleration, defen­ded, rather then punished. All which the Lord did in his foreknowledge knowe, namely: that men should be remisse and ne­gligent in the punishing of all those that bee dishonourers of his Name, and therefore hee tooke the cause, iudgement and punishment into his owne hands, with this irreuocable sentence, that he will not hold him guiltlesse that taketh his name in vaine: so that the Swearer & Blasphemer may see that although, through Greatnesse of Riches, Office, Fauour, or Flattery, men doe passe ouer this great of­fence slightly, yet God doth most assuredly promise and pay them their hire in this world, Ecclesiasticus, 23. For though thou thinkest [Page 51] God heares thee not, but is as deafe a [...] said Baal was, yet thou shalt one day k [...] that he that made the eye, seeth, and hee that made the care, heareth, and he will also giue them their eternall wages in the world to come (except true repentance and remission) as is most seuerely threatned in many places of ho­ly Scripture.

In briefe to conclude, take Christs counsell, Sweare not at all, Mat. 5. 34. Except lawfully and trully before a Magistrate, for the confir­mation of a truth, which kind of oath or swea­ring is for Gods glory, and commanded by himselfe, as it is written in Deut. [...]6. 13. Thou shalt feare the Lord thy God and serue him, and shalt Sweare by his Name. And Ler. 4. 2. Thou shalt sweare, The Lord liueth, and thou shalt sweare by his Name, Deut. 10. 20. and againe, Euery tongue shall sweare by me, Esay, 45. 23. and againe, And he that sweareth in the earth, shall sweare by the true God. These sorts of oathes are so lawfull, that Gods glory in them is manifested; Iustice dignified, Contentions pacified. In this sort when thou swearest God onely must bee thy oath: for it is for his glory that an oath taken lawfully in his Name, is the decision of truth, because he is the God of truth, and he is a iea­lous, God, and will net giue his glory to another, Esay, 48.11. And let it be thy greatest care, to hold & esteeme the Name of God in such reuerence and feare, that thou neuer dost name or men­tion, him, but with adoration and admiration'; let the faithlesse Iew be thy patterne, who doth neuer Name God in any Curse, oath, or vn­reuerend maner: let the misbeleeuing Turke teach thee, for he will not abuse his false de­ceiuing Prophet Mahomet: let the Pagan reach thee, who with such dutifull blindnesse doe adore base and contemptible Creatures: let Gods mercies moue thee to loue him, so that liuing here in his feare, and departing hence in his fauour, thou maist be for euer partaker of his euerlasting Loue, which God graunt, for the Name and sake of Iesus Christ the Righ­teous, to whom with the Father & holy Ghost, be obediently aud duely rendred by men and Angels, all honour, glory, might, Maiesty, dominion and thankesgiuing now and for euermore.

Christian admonitions, against the two fearefull sinnes of Cursing & Swearing, that the grieuousnesse of those sinnes may be loth remembred, and auoyded, whereby the hatred of them may possesse the heart of euery Christian.

Against Cursing.

FIrst, (if thou wilt liue in a holy feare and reuerence of the Name of God) thou must consider what thou art, and learne to know thy selfe; for he that truely knoweth himselfe, is aman of very happy acquaintance, for by this thou shalt know thy selfe to be Earth, Gen. 2. 7. conceiu'd in sinne, Psal. 51. 5. Borne to paine. Iob, 5. 7. Euill, Eccle. 9. 3. Wretched, Rom. 7. Filthy, Iob, 15. Corrupt, abominable, & doing nothing good, Psal. 14. Mortall, Rom. 6. Vaine, Psal 62. Wicked, Esay, 9. Vnprofitable, Rom. 3. Vanitie, altoge­ther more light then Vanitie, Psal. 62. Sinfull, 1 Kings 8. Miserable, 1 C [...]rinth. 15. Dust and Ashes, Gen. 18. Gods enemy, Rom. 8. A child of wrath, Ephesians, 2. 3. A worme, Iob, 25. Wormes meare, Esay, 51. Nothing, yea lesse then nothing, Esay 40. 17.

Hauing thus by the Touch-stone of Gods Word tryed, and examined thy miserable estate and condition, and therewithall know­ing thy selfe, then on the other side, consider (as neere as thy frailty will permit) the power of God in creating thee, his mercy in Redee­ming thee, his loue, in preseruing thee, his bounty, in keeping thee, his promise to glo­risie thee in Heauen, if thou honour him on earth, and his Iudgements to condemne thee, if thou blaspheme and dishonour him.

Our Sauiour Christ, being the Head of Blessednesse, and of all that are or shall bee blessed, how is it possible that any Accursed or Cursing person can bee a [Page 52] member of that Blessed Head; who hath ex­pressely forbidden vs to Curse, but to blesse them that Curse vs? Luke, 6. Mat. 5. Rom. 12. And in the 1 [...] 9. Psalme, It is said to him that accustomes himselfe to Curse, Cursing was his delight, therefore shall it happen vnto him, he loued not blessing, therefore it shall be farre from him.

And seeing no man can merit the least part of blessings remporall, how, or with what face can one that liues accursedly, or vseth cursing (here,) hope for a Kingdome of Eternall bles­sednesse hereafter?

It is fearefull to heare how, and with what cold dulnesse, many men doe pray for bles­sings either for themselues or for other, and (contrarily) with what vehemency they will Curse: as some haue willed and wished them­selues Gods Plague, the Pox, and other mis­chiefes, and some haue too often bid the De­uill take them, God Sinke them: Renounce, Confound, Consume, Refuse, and Damne them: and yet these filly gracelesse earth­wormes, haue an ambitious deceitfull ayme to be blessed, partakers of the blessed Kingdome of Heauen.

Therefore if thou hast a desire of Eternall blessednesse, know that the way thither, is not by Cursing: if thou hast a hope to escape the dreadfull sentence of, Goe yee Cursed, Mat. 25. Then giue thy mind to prayer and blessing, and then shalt thou haue the ioyfull welcome of, Come ye blessed inherit the Kingdome prepared for you from the beginning of the world. To the which God of his mercy bring vs all. Amen.

Against Swearing.

HAuing with a Christian humilitie consi­dered thy owne base and contemptible estate and condition, then thinke with thy selfe, what an Incomprehensible, Glorious, Infinite and Almighty Maiestie thou offendest and blasphemest with thy vngodly Swearing, who hath said, that he will not hold him guilt­lesse, that takes his Name in vaine.

And much better were it at the last day, for that miserable wretch, that he had beene crea­ted a Toade, a Viper, or the most loathsome creature, then to appeare before that great & dreadfull Tribunall, and there to be accused by the Deuill and his owne conscience, for Swearing and for Forswearing, and Blasphe­ming the blessed Name of the Eternall God, where no excuse can serue, no Aduocate can plead, no Proxey or Enoyne is to be granted, but presently the guilty Caitif is commanded to vtter darkenesse and perpetuall torments.

There is some excuse for the ignorant Iewes, that crucified our Sauiour because they knew not what they did: but for a profes­sed Christian, who knowes God to be his Creator, and that Iesus Christ paid no lesse then the peerelesse and most precious blood of his heart fore mans Redemption, how can any one that knowes and beleeues these things, hope for saluation by that blood, wounds, heart and body, which he so often blasphemes and teares betwixt his accursed teeth? So that there is no Traytor so bad, or treason so great, as is against the Maiestie of heauen, nor hath the Deuill any that doth him more pleasing seruice, then an odious and common Swearet doth, and herein he goes beyond all the De­uils in hell in impiety and contempt of God: for Saint Iames saith, Cap. 2. 19. That the De­uils doe beleeue there is a God, and that they also tremble in feare of his mighty power; but the Swearer, though hee doth know and be­leeue there is a God, yet hee beleeues not his Word, or feares or trembles at his Iudge­ments.

Besides these endlesse torments ordained in hell for odious Swearers, God hath pro­mised to afflict them in this life: for he saith, The plague shall neuer goe from the house of the Swearer, Ecclesiasticus, 23.

So that the gaine of a Swearer is nothing but the eternall wrath of God, the hatred of all good men, the ill example to others, and the vexation and discredit of himselfe, his kindred and friends, with a fearefull reward hereafter, (except true repentance obtaine mercy.) What a foolish absurditie is it for a man (being crost in some wordly affaires, or gaming, or other businesse, either materiall [Page 53] or triuiall) to reuenge himselfe vpon God, and blasphemously fly in the face of his Maker, with Oathes and Excerations?

If wee did consider what God hath done for vs, we would not so vnthankefully requite him: if we called to mind his gracious promise of glory euerlasting, to those that loue and feare him, we should then hold his Name in such reuerence as becomes Christians: if his fearefull threatnings against the takers of his Name in vaine, could terrifie vs, (no doubt) but we would be more carefull and circum­spect in our liues and conuersations, as that we would be allured by his mercies, or restrai­ned by his Iudgements.

GOd hath naturally placed and inclosed the tongue of man within the stone-walls of his teeth, and without those walls there are also the two earthen Bulwarkes or Rampieres of his lippes: he hath appointed Reason to be the tongues guide and guardian, and he free­ly offers his Grace, to be Reasons counsellour and gouernour: wherefore let vs flee to the Throne of Grace, and beseech the God of Grace, that he will cause his sauing Grace to guide our Reason, that our Reason may rule our tongues, that Cursing may be cashiered, Swearing suppressed: that (by Gods Spirit) our lippes may bee opened, that with our mouthes his Name may be praysed: that Gods Name may be glorified, and our sinfull soules eternally saued, through the merits of our great and blessed Redeemer Iesus Christ: To whom with the Father and the Blessed Spirit, be all Honour, Power, Maiestie, Glory, Domi­nion, and Thankesgiuing, ascribed and ren­dred (as is due) of men and Angels, both now and for euermore. Amen, Amen.

Against Swearing.

THou that these lines dost either heare or read,
Consider with thy selfe, and take good heed.
Reade them, and let them neuer be forgot,
They doe concerne thy soule, then slight them not.
The a Fiends of Hell beleeue there is a God,
And feare and tremble at his angry Rod:
They doe confesse his glorious Excellence,
And his Almighty powers Omnipotence.
But Man his choisest and his chiefest Creature,
Is so rebellious against God and Nature,
That hee 'gainst Heau'n dare both blaspheme and sweare,
And (worse then Fiends) they not beleeue or feare:
So that the Earth doth breed, feed, and retaine
Worse Monsters then there doth in Hell remaine.
If men beleeu'd the Word that God hath spoke,
They would belieue that Word shuld ne'er be broke.
In His enacted Law b is one Decree,
That all who take his Name in vaine, shall be
Accounted guilty, and his fearefull wrath
Will hold them guilty of eternall death.
Againe 'tis said, Let the c Blasphemer dye,
Let him be stoned for his blasphemy;
And euill tongues, who dare to curse aduenter,
Shall into Heauens d blessednesse not enter.
And Christ (when on the Earth he liued heere)
Forbade vs that at e all we should not sweare.
And in th'leuenth of Deutoronomy againe,
We are commanded not to sweare in vaine.
The f Heathen to blaspheme their gods abhorr'd,
Yet Christians wilfully blaspheme the Lord.
Who-euer to reuile the gods were knowne,
In Rome, were from the Rock Tarpeius throwne,
Th'Egyptians Law was, he should lose his head,
'Mongst Scythians, life and goods were forfeited.
These grieuous punishments did Pagant vse
Against all them that did their gods abuse.
King Donald's Law in Scotland's not forgot,
Who burnt them through the lips with irons hot.
And when King Edmund here had Regall State,
All Swearers he did excommunicate.
And Philip King of France (a Prince renown'd)
Ordain'd that Blasphemers should be drown'd.
The Emperour Maximilian did decree,
That all vaine Swearers should beheaded be.
The Earle of Flanders, Philip, did ordaine,
Their losse of life and goods that swore in vaine.
Saint Lewis the King of France enacted there,
That for the first time any one did sweare,
Into imprisonment one month was cast,
And stand within the Pillory at last.
But if the second time againe they swore,
One with an iron hot their tongues did bore.
[Page 54]And who the third time in that fault did slip,
Were likewise boared through the vnder-lip.
For the fourth time most gricuous paines belongs,
He caus'd to be cut off their lips and tongues.
Henry the fift of England, that good King,
His Court to such conformity did bring,
That euery Duke should forty shillings pay
For euery Oath he swore, without delay.
Each Baron twenty, Knights or Squires offence
Paid tenne: and euery Yeoman twenty pence.
The Boyes and Pages all were whipt most fine,
That durst abuse the Maiestie diuine.
Thus Pagan Princes with sharp lawes withstood
Profaning of their Gods, of stone, or wood.
And Christian Kings and Rulers formerly,
Haue most seuerely punisht blasphemy.
And shall a Heathen, or an Infidell,
That knowes no ioyes of Heauen, or paines of Hell,
More reuerence to his deuillish Idols show,
Then we doe to the true God whom we know?
If we remembred well but what we were,
And what we are, we would not dare to sweare.
Poore trunks of earth fill'd with vncertaine breath,
By nature heires to euerlasting death:
Most miserable wretches, most ingrate
'Gainst God, that did elect vs, and create.
Redeem'd, conseru'd, preseru'd, and sanctifi'd,
And giues vs hope we shall be glorifi'd.
H'hath giuen vs being, life, sense, reason, wit,
Wealth, and all things his Prouidence thinkes fit:
And for requitall, (we quite voyde of grace)
Curse, sweare, and doe blaspheme him to his face.
Oh the supernall patience of our God,
That beares with Man (a sin polluted clod)
When halfe such treasons 'gainst an earthly King,
Would many a Traytor to confusion bring!
Suppose a man should take a Whelp and breed him,
And stroke him, & make much of him, & feed him,
How will that curre loue him beyond all other?
Neuer forsaking him to serue another?
But if he should most disobediently,
Into his Masters face or throat to fly,
Sure euery man that liues vpon the ground,
Would say a hanging's sit for such a hound.
And worser then so many dogges are they
That 'gainst their God with oathes do barke & bray.
And if repentance doe not mercy win,
They'll hang in Hell like Hell-hounds for that sin.
Of all black crimes from Belzebubs damn'd treasure,
This swearing sin no profit yeelds, or pleasure:
Nor gaines the swearer here but earths vexation,
With change of his saluation for damnation.
It is a sinne that yeelds vs no excuse.
(For what excuse can be for Gods abuse?)
And though our other faults by death doe end,
Yet Blasphemy doth after death extend,
For to the damn'd in Hell this curse is giuen,
They for their paines blaspheme the God of Heauen.
Examples on the earth haue many beene,
As late in sundry places haue beene seene.
At Mantua two braue Russians in their games
Swore and blasphem'd our blessed Sauiours name,
Where Gods iust iudgement (full of feare & dread)
Caus'd both their eyes to drop from out their head.
In Rome, a childe but fiue yeeres old that swore,
Was snatcht vp by the Deuill, and seene no more,
And at Ragouse, a Mariner did sweare,
As if he would Gods name in sunder teare;
When falling ouer-boord, was drown'd and tost,
And nothing but his tongue was onely lost.
Remember this, you sinfull sonnes of men,
Thinke how that Christ redeem'd you from Hells den
His mercy he hath giu'n in magnitude,
Requite him not with vile ingratitude.
He made the Eares and Eye, and heares and sees
The swearers execrable oathes and lyes.
The Godhead of the Father they contemne:
Against the Sonnes Redemption they blaspheme:
The Holy Spirit grieuously they grieue,
And headlong into Hell themselues they driue,
It is in vaine for mortall men to thinke,
Gods Iustice is asleepe, although it winke:
Or that his arme is shortned in these times,
That he cannot reach home to punish crimes.
Oh thinke not so, 'tis but the Deuils illusion,
To draw vs desperately to our confusion.
Some say that 'tis their anger makes them sweare,
And oathes are out before they are aware,
But being crost with losses and perplex'd,
They thinke no harme, but sweare as being vex'd:
And some there are that sweare for complement,
Make oathes their grace, and speeches ornament,
Their sweete Rhetoricall fine eloquence,
Their reputations onely excellence,
Their valour, whom the Deuill doth inflame
T'abuse their Makers and Redeemers Name.
Thinke but on this, you that doe God forget,
Your poore excuses cannot pay this debt:
Remember that our sinfull soules did cost
A price too great, to be by swearing lost.
[Page 55]And blessed was our last good Parliament,
Who made an Act for swearers punishment,
And blest shall be each Magistrates good name,
That carefully doe execute the same.
Those that are zealous for Gods glory here,
(No doubt) in Heauen shall haue true glory there,
Which that we may haue, humbly I implore
Of Him that rules and raignes for euermore,
Th'Eternall Lord of Lords, and King of Kings,
Before whose Throne blest Saints and Angels sings,
All power, praise, glory, Maiesty, thankesgiuing,
Ascribed be to him that's euer liuing.
FINIS.

TO THE TRVELY GENEROVS AND NOBLE KNIGHT, SIR IOHN MILLISSENT, SERIEANT PORTER TO the Kings most Excellent Maiestie.

RIght worthy Knight, when first this Booke I writ
To You, I boldely Dedicated it:
And hauing now enlarg'd both Prose and Rime,
To you I offer it the second time.
To whom should I these sorrowes recommend,
But vnto You, the Cities Noble Friend?
I know, you are much grieued with their Griefe,
And would aduenture Life for their reliefe:
To You therefore these Lines I Dedicate,
Wherein, their Sorrowes partly I relate,
I humbly craue acceptance at your hand:
And rest
Your Seruant euer at command, IOHN TAYLOR.

TO THE PRINTER.

MY Conceit is, that these are very lamentable Ver­ses, and will grieue many the reading; they so ex­presse Death to Life, and make mortalitie immor­tall: I wish, that as many as can make vse of such Lines, had Copies, the rest may want them.

Here and there a Verse may occasion a Teare; then the Au­thour is a true VVater-Poet indeed; but else-where, there wants not a hand-kercheffe to dry that Teare. So is the whole worke a * [...]and deserues an Approbation at least from

IOHN TAYLOR, of Oriell Colledge in Oxford.

THE PRAEFACE.

IN this lamentable time of generall Calamity, our hainous sinnes prouoking Gods iust Indignation, this heauy visitation and mortality; I being attendant vpon the Queenes Maiestie at Hampton Court, and from thence within two miles of Oxford with her Barge (with much griefe & remorse) did see and heare miserable and cold entertainement of many Londoners; which, for their preseruation fled and retired themselues from the City into the Country. Whence I noted the peoples Charity, and great amendment, [...]or they had giuen ouer one of the seuen deadly sinnes, which was Coueto [...]nesse, and in many places were so farre out of loue of a Citizens money, that they abhor'd and hated either to [...]ouch or receiue it; entertaining them with bitter worme-wood welcome, (which hearbe was [...]n more request amongst many of them, then any of the heauenly Graces or Cardinall Vertues) [...]et the hearbe of Grace was in much estimation, although the name of it was a document that they had occasion to Rue the Time; I further perceiued that they were so farre from beleeuing or [...]rediting any man, that they would or durst not trust their owne noses, but were doubtfull, that [...]hat sence would conspire with the Plague to murther them, wherefore (like cunning Mari­ [...]ers, or mole-catchers,) they would craftily in their streetes and high-wayes fetch the wind of [...]ny man, although they were ouer shooes & boots, & sometimes tumbled into a ditch for their [...]abours. This was the time when a man with a night-cap at noone, would haue frighted a whole Parish out of their wits, when to call for Aquae-vitae (though it had bin but to make a drench for [...] sicke horse) was enough to haue his house shut vp. When Lord haue mercy vpon vs, made many of them tremble more then God Refuse, Renounce, Confound, or Damne. When a man trauailing [...]n the habit of a Citizen, was a meere Bulbegger; when for a man to say that hee came from Hell, would yeed him better well-come without money, then one would giue to his owne father and mother that came from London. In this time of mans great mise­ [...]y and small mercy, I tooke my pen in hand and wrote this ensuing discourse: I haue (as neere as I could) suited it sadly, according to the nature of the subiect. And truly, because that the bare and naked truth was so cleare and ample, that I need not to stuffe it out with friuolous fables or fantasticall fictions; with my soule, I thanke­fully acknowledge Gods great mercy extended towards mee (one of the most wretched and wicked) in that so many thousands of better life and conuersation, haue fallen on my right hand and on my left, and round about me; yet hath his gracious protection beene my guard, for the which in my gratitude to my God, and to auoyd the sinne of idlenesse, I haue written, what those that can, may reade.

THE FEAREFVLL SVMMER: OR LONDONS CALAMITIE.

THe Patience and long suffering of our God,
Keepes close his Quiuer, and restraines his Rod,
And though our crying Crimes to Heau'n doe cry
For vengeance, on accurst Mortality;
Yea though we merit mischiefes manifold,
Blest Mercy doth the hand of Iustice hold.
But when that Eye that sees all things most cleare,
Expects our finits of Faith, from yeere, to yeere,
Allowes vs painefull Pastors, who bestow
Great care and toyle, to make vs fruitfull grow,
And daily doth in those weake Vessels send
The dew of Heauen, in hope we will amend;
Yet (at the last) he doth perceiue and see
That we vnfruitfull and most barren be,
Which makes his indignation frowne,
And (as accursed Fig-trees) cut vs downe.
Thus Mercy (mock'd) plucks iustice on our heads,
And gri [...]uous Plagues our Kingdome ouerspreads:
Then let vs to our God make quicke returning,
With true contrition, fasting and with mourning:
The Word is God, and God hath spoke the Word,
If we repent he will put vp his sword.
Hee's grieu'd in panishing, Hee's slow to Ire,
And HE a sinners death doth not desire.
If our Compunction our Amendment show,
Our purple sinues Hee'll make as white as snow.
If we lament our God is mercifull,
Our scarlet crimes hee'll make as white as wooll.
Faire London that did late abound in blisse,
And wast our Kingdomes great Metropolis,
'Tis thou thar art deie [...]ed, low in state,
Disc [...]late, and almost desolate,
(The hand of Heau'n that onely did protect thee)
Thou hast prouok'd moil iustly to correct thee,
And for thy pride of Heart and deeds vniust,
He layes thy Pompe and Glory in the dust.
Thou that wast late the Queene of Cities nam'd,
Throughout the world admir'd, renown'd, & fam'e
Thou that hadst all things at command and will,
To whom all England was a hand-maide still;
For rayment, fewell, fish, fowle, beasts, for food,
For fruits, for all our Kingdome counted good,
Both neere and farre remote, all did agree
To bring their best of blessings vnto thee.
Thus in conceite, thou seem'dst to rule the Fates,
Whilst peace and plenty flourish'd in thy Gates,
Could I relieue thy miseries as well,
As part I can thy woes and sorrowes tell,
Then should my Cares be eas'd with thy Reliefe,
And all my study how to end thy griefe.
Thou that wer't late rich, both in friends & wealth,
Magnificent in state, and strong in health,
As chiefest Mistris of our Country priz'd,
Now chiefly in the Country art despis'd.
The name of London now both farre and neere,
Strikes all the Townes and Villages with scare,
And to be thought a Londoner is worse,
Then one that breakes a house, or takes a purse.
He that will filch or steale, now is the Time,
No Iustice dares examine him, his crime;
Let him but say that he from London came,
So full of Feare and Terrour is that name,
The Constable his charge will soone forsake,
And no man dares his M [...]nus to make.
Thus Citizens plag'd for the Citie sinnes,
Poore entertainement in the Country winnes.
Some feare the City, and fly thence amaine,
And those are of the Country fear'd againe,
[Page 59]Who 'gainst thē bar their windows & their doores,
More then they would 'gainst Tu [...]ks, or Iewes or Moores,
[...]hinke if very Spaniards had come there,
[...]heir well-come had bin better, and their cheare.
Whilst Hay-cock lodging, with hard slender fare,
Welcome like dogs vnto a Church they are,
[...]are makes them with the Ana [...]aptists ioyne,
For if an Hostesse doe receiue their coyne,
She in a dish of water, or a paile,
Will now baptize it, lest it something aile.
Thus many a Citizen well flor'd with gold,
Is giad to lye vpon his mother [...]old,
His bed the map of his mortailty,
His curtaines clouds, aud Heau'n his Canopy.
The russet Plow-swaine, and the Leathren Hinde,
Through feare is growne vnmannerly, vnkinde:
And in his house (to harbour) hee'll prefer
An Infidell before a Londoner:
And thus much friendship Londoners did win,
The Deuill himselfe had better welcome bin:
Those that with trauell were tir'd, fam [...], and dry,
For want of drinke, might sla [...]e, & choke, and dye:
For why the hob-nau'd Boores, inhumane Blocks,
Vncharitable Hounds, hearts hard as Rocks,
Did sufter people in the field to sinke,
Rather then giue, or sell a draught of drinke.
Milke-maides & Farmers wiues are growne so nice,
They thinke a Citizen a Cockatrice,
And Country Dames, are wax'd so coy and briske,
They shun him as they'll shun a Basiliske:
For euery one the sight of him would siye,
All scaring he would kill them with his eye.
Ah wofull London, I thy griefe bewayle,
And if my sighes and prayers may but preuaile;
[...]mbly beg of God that hee'le be pleas'd,
[...] Iesus Christ, his wrath may be appear'd,
With-holding his dread Iudgements from aboue,
And once more graspe thee in his armes of loue.
In mcrcy all our wickednes remit,
[...]r who can giue thee thankes within the pi [...]?
Strange was the change in lesse then 3-months space,
[...]ioy, in woe, in grace, and in disgrace:
[...]healthfull Aprill, a diseased Iune,
[...]nd dangerous Iuly, brings all out of tune.
[...]hat City whose rare obiects pleas'd the eyes
With much content and more varieties,
[...] that was late delightful [...] to the eares,
With melody Harmonious, like the Spheares:
She that had all things that might please the scent,
And all she felt, did giue her touch content,
Her Cinque Port scences, richly fed and cloyd
With blessins bountifull, which she enioy'd.
Now 3-monthes change hath fill'd it full of feare,
As if no Solace euer had beene there.
What doe the Eyes see there but grieued sights
Of sicke, oppressed, and distressed wights?
Houses shut vp, some dying, and some dead,
Some (all amazed.) flying, and some fled.
Streets thinly man d with wretches euery day,
Which haue no power to flee, or meanes to stay,
In some whole streete (perhaps) a Shop or twayne
Stands open, for small takings, and lesse gaine,
And euery closed window, dore and stall,
Makes each day seeme a solemnt Festiuall.
Dead Co [...]es carried, and recarried still,
Whilst [...]ty Corp [...]es scarce one graue doth fill.
With LORD HAVE MERCIE VPON VS, on the dore,
Which (though the words be good) doth grieue men sore.
And o're the doore-posts fix'd a crosse [...]ed
Betol- [...]ning that there Death some blood hath shed.
Some with Gods markes or T [...]kens doe espte,
These Marks or Takens, shew them they must die.
Some with their Carbuncles, and sores new burst,
Are fed with hope they haue escap'd the worst:
Thus passeth all the weeke, till Thuedayes Bill
Shew [...]vs what thousands death that weeke did kil.
That fatal Rel, doth like a razor cut
The dead, tl [...]uing in a maze doth put,
And he that hath a Christian heart, I know,
Is grieud, and wounded with the deadly blow.
These are the obie [...]s of the Eye, now heare
And marke the mournefull musicke of the Eare;
There doe the brazen Iron tongu'd loud bells
(Deaths clamorous musicke) ring continuall knells,
Some losty in their notes, some sadly towling,
Whilst fatali dogs made a most dismall how ling,
aSome frantick [...] ra [...]ing, some with anguish crying,
Some singing, praying, groaning, and some dying,
The healthfull grieuing, and the sickly groaning,
All in mournefull diap [...]ten m [...]aning.
Here, Parents for their Childrens lo [...]e lament.
There, Childrens griefe for Parents life that's spent:
Husbands deplore their louing Wines decease:
Wines for their Husbands weepe remedilesse:
The Brother for his Brother, friend for friend,
Doe each for other mutuall sorrowes spend,
Here, Sister mournes for Sister, Kin for Kin,
As one grife ends, another doth begin:
There one lies languishing, with slender fare:
Small comfort, lesse attendance, and least care,
With none but Death and he to tugge together,
Vntill his corps and soule part each from either.
In one house one, or two, or three doth fall,
And in another Death playes sweepe-stake all.
Thus vniuersall sorrowfull complaining:
Is all the musicke now in London raigning,
Thus is her comfort sad Calamitie,
And all her Melodie is Maladie.
These are the obiects of the eyes and eares,
Most wofull sights, and sounds of griefes and feares.
[Page 60]The curious rast that while me did delight
With cost and care to please the Appetite
What she was went to hate, she doth adore,
And what's high priz'd, she held despis'd before,
The drugs, the drenches, and vntoothsome drinks,
Feare giues a sweetnes to all seuerall stinks,
And for supposed Anudotes, each Palate
Of most contagious weedes will make a Sallate,
And any of the simplest Mountebankes
May cheat them (as they will) of Coine & thankes,
With scraped pouder of a shooing-home,
Which they'le beleeue is of an Vmcorne.
Angelicacs, distastfull roote is gnaw'd,
And hearbe of Grace most Ruefully is chaw'd.
Garlick offendeth neither tast, nor smell,
Feare and opinon makes it rellish well,
Whilst Beazer stone, and mighty Mitbridate,
To all degrees are great in estimate,
And Triacles power is wonderously exprest,
And Dragon Water in most high request.
These 'gainst the Plague are good preseruatiue.
But the best cordiall is t'amend our liues.
Sinne's the maine cause and we must first begin
To cease our griefes, by ceasing of our sinne.
I doe beleeue that God hath giuen in store
Good medcines to cure, or case each fore,
But first remoue the cause of the disease,
And then (no doubt but) the effect will cease.
Our sinn's the Cause, remoue our sinnes from hence,
And God will soone remoue the Pestileace,
Then euery medicine (to our consolation)
Shall haue his power, his force his operation,
And till that time, experiments are not
But Paper walls against a Cannon shot.
On many a post I see Quacke-sainers Bills
Like Fencers Challenges, to shew their skills:
As if they were such Masters of defente
That they date combat with the Pestilence;
Meete with the plague in any deadly fray,
And bragge to beare the victory away,
But if then patients pariently beleeue them,
They'le cure them (without faile) of what they giue them;
What though ten thousands by their drēches perish
They made them parposely themselues to cherish,
Their Art is a meere Artlesse kind of lying.
To picke their liuing out of others dying.
This sharpe inucctiue no way seemes to touch
The learn'd Physician, whom I honour much,
The Paracelsians and the Galennists,
The Philosophicall graue Herbahsts.
These I admire and reuerence, for in those
God doth dame Natures secrets fast inclose,
Which they distribute, as occasion serue
Health to reserue, and health decai'd conserue.
'Tis 'gainst such Rat-catchers I bend my pen
Which doe mechanically murther men,
Whose promises of cure, (like lying knaues)
Doth begger men, or send them to their graues.
aNow London, for the sence of feeling next,
Thou in thy feeling chiefely art perplext:
Thy heart feeles sorrow, and thy body anguish,
Thou in thy feeling feel'st thy force to languish,
Thou feelst much woe, and much calamity,
And many millions feele thy misery:
Thou feel st the fearefull Plague, the Flix, and Feur
Which many a soule doth from the body suter.
And I beteech God for our Sauiours merit,
To let thee feele, the Comfort of his Spirit.
Last for the solace of the b smell or [...]:
Some in contagious roomes are closely pen [...],
Whereas corrupted Aire they take, and giue
Till time ends, or lends liberty to liue.
One with a piece of tasseld well tarr'd Rope,
Doth with that nose-gay keepe himselfe in hope;
Another deth a wispe of worme-wood pull,
And with great Iudgement crams his nostrils full;
A third takes off his socks from's sweating feete,
And makes them his perfume alongst the streets:
A fourth hath got a powne'd Pommander box,
With woorme-wood iuice, or sweating of a Fox,
Rue steep'd in vineger, they hold it good
To cheere the sences, and preserue the blood.
Whilst Bellets Bonefire-like, and faggots dry
Are burnt i'th streetes, the Aire to purifie.
Thou great Almightis, giue them time and space,
And purifie them with thy heauenly Grace,
Make their repentance Incense, whose sweet faure
May mount vnto thy Throne, and gaine thy f [...]ure
Thus euery sence, that should the heart delight,
Are Ministers, and organs to affright.
The Citizens doe from the City runne.
The Countries feares, the Citizens doe shunne:
Both feare the Plague, but neither feares one iot
The euill wayes which hath the plague begot.
This is the way this sickenes to preuent
Feare to offend, more then the punishment.
All trades are dead, or almost out of breath
But such as line by sickenesse or by death
The Mercers, Grocers, Silk-men, Goldsmiths, D [...]per
Are out of Season, like noone burning Tapers
All functions faile almost, through want of buyer
And euery art and mysterie turne Dyers,
The very Water-men giue ouer plying,
Their rowing tade doth faile, they fall to dring.
Some men there are, that r [...]e by others falls
Propheticke Augurists in vrinals,
Those are right water-men, and rowe so well,
They either land their fares in Heau'n or Hell.
I neuer knew them yet, to make a stay
And land at Purgatory, by the way:
[Page 61]The Reason very plainely doth appeare
Their patients feele their Pargatory here.
But this much (Reader) you must vnderstand
They commonly are paid before they land.
Next vnto him th' Apothecarie thriues
By Physicke bills, and his preseruatiues:
Worme-eaten Sextons, mighty gaines doe witine,
And natty Grane-makers great commings in.
And Cossin-makers are well paid their rent,
For many a woefull woodden tenement,
For which the Trunk-makers in Pauls Church-yard,
A large Reuenue this sad yeere haue shar'd
Their liuing Customers for Trunkes were fled,
They now made chests or Cossins for the dead.
The Searchers of each corps good gainers be,
The Bearers haue a profitable fee,
And last, the Dog-killers great gaines abounds
For Brayning brawling currs, and foisting hounds.
These are the grane trades, that doe get and saue
Whose grauity brings many to theit graue.
Thus grieued Lonaon, sit'd with mones and grones
Is like a Golgotha of dead mens bones:
The field where death his bloudy fray doth fight
And kild a thousand in a day and night.
Faire houses, that were latee exceeding deare,
At fifty or an hundred pounds a yeare,
The Landlords are so pittifull of late
Theyle let them at a quarter of the rate.
So he that is a mightie moneyed man,
Let him but thither make what haste he can,
Let him disburse his gold and siluer heape.
And purchase London 'tis exceeding cheape,
But if he tarrie but one three months more,
I hope 'twill be as deare as 'twas before.
A Country cottage, that but lately went
At foure markes, or at three pounds yeerely rent.
A Citizen, whose meere necessity
Doth force him now into the Country fly,
Is glad to hire two Chambers of a Carter
And pray & pay with thankes fiue Pounds a quarter.
Then here's the alteration of this yeare
The Citties cheapenes makes the Country deare.
Besides another mischiefe is, I see
A man dares not besicke although he be:
Let him complaine but of the sio [...]c or gout
The plague hath strooke him, presently they doubt.
My selfe hath beene perplexed now and then,
With the wind Collick, yeeres aboue thrice ten,
Wh'ch in the Country I drust not repeate
Although my pangs & gripes, & paines were great.
For to be sicke of any kind of griefe
Would make a man worse welcome then a thiefe,
To be drunke sicke, which or'st did credit winne,
Was fear'd infectious, and held worse then sinne.
This made me, and a many more beside,
Their griefes to smother, and their paines to hide,
To tell a mery tale with Visage glad,
When as the Collick almost made me mad.
Thus meere dissembling, many practis'd then,
And mid'st of paine, seem'd pleasant amongst men,
For why, the smallest sigh or grone, or shrieke
Would make a man his meat and lodging seeke.
This was the wretched Londoners hard case
Most hardly welcome into any place,
Whil'st Country people, where so'ere they went
Would stop their Noses to auoid their sent,
When as the case did oft most plaine appeare
'Twas onely they themselues that stunke with feare
Nature was dead (or from the Country runne)
A Father durst not entertaine his Sonne,
The Mother sees her Daughter, and doth feare her,
Commands her, on her blessing not come neere her.
Affinity, nor any kinde of Kinne,
Or ancient friendship could true welcome winne,
The Children scarcely would their Parents know
Or (did if they,) but slender duty shew:
Thus feare made nature most vnnaturall,
Duty vndutifull, or very small,
No friendship, or else cold and miserable,
And generally all vncharitable.
Nor London Letters little better spod
They would not be receiu'd (much lesse be read)
But cast into the fire and burnt with speed
As if they had bin Hereticks indeed.
And late I saw vpon a Sabbath day
Some Citizens at Church prepar'd to pray;
But (as they had bin excommunicate)
The good Church-wardēs thrust them out the gate.
Another Country vertue I'le repeat,
The peoples charity was growne so great
That whatsoeuer Londonor did dye,
In Church or Church-yard should not buried lye.
Thus were they scorn'd, despised, banished,
Excluded from the Church, aliue, and dead,
Aliue, their bodies could no harbour haue,
And dead, not be allow'd a Christian Graue:
Thus was the Countryes kindnesse cold, and small,
No house, no Church, no Christian buriall.
Oh thou that on the winged windes dost sit
And seest our misery, remedy it,
Althogh we haue deseru'd thy vengeance hot,
Yet in thy jury (Lord) consume vs not.
But in thy mercies sheath thy slaying sword,
Deliuer vs, according to thy word,
Shut vp thy Quiuer, stay thy angry rod
That all the world may know thou art our God,
Oh open wide the gate of thy compassion
Assure our soules that thou art c [...]r Saluation.
Then all our thoughts & words, & works, wee'le frame
To magnifie thy great and glorious Name,
The wayes of God, are intricate, no doubt
Vnsearchable, and passe mans finding out,
[Page 62]He at his pleasure worketh wond'rous things
And in his hand doth hold the hearts of Kings,
And for the loue, which to our King he beares,
By sickenes he our sinfull Country cleares,
That he may be a Patrone, and a guide
Vnto a people purg'd and purifi'd.
This by a president is manifest;
When famous late Elizabeth deceast,
Before our gracious Iames put on the Crowne,
Gods hand did cut superstuous branches downe,
Not that they then that were of life bereft,
Were greater sinners then the number left:
But that the Plague should then the Kingdome cleare
The good to comfort, and the bad to feare:
That as a good King, God did vs assure,
So he should haue a Nation purg'd and pure.
And as Elizabeth when she went hence,
Was wayted on, as did be seeme a Prince:
Of all degrees to tend her Maiestie,
Neere forty thousand in that yeere did dye,
That as she was belou'd of high and lowe:
So at her death, their deaths their loues did showe,
Whereby the world did note Elizabeth,
Was louingly attended after death.
So mighty Iames (the worlds admired mireur)
True faiths defending friend, sterne Foe to Errour,
When he Great Britains glorious Crown did leaue,
A Crowne of endlesse glory to receaue,
Then presently in lesse then eight months space
Full eighty thousand follow him a pace.
And now that Royall Iames intombed lyes,
And that onr gracious Charles his roome supplies,
As Heau'n did for his Father formerly
A sinfull Nation cleanse and purifie.
So God, for him these things to passe doth bring,
And mends the Subiects for so good a King.
Vpon whose Throne may peace and plenty rest,
And he and his Eternally be blest.

NOw for a Conclusion in Prose, I must haue one touch more at the vncharita­blenesse and ingratitude of those beastly, bar­barous, cruell Country Canibals, whom nei­ther the entreaty of the healthy, or misery of the sicke could moue to any sparke of humani­ty, or Christian compassion; their ingratitude being such, that although the Citty of London hath continually extended her bounty towards the Countries in generall and particular neces­sities: for repairing their Churches, Bridges and high wayes, for their wrackes by sea, for their losses by fire, for their [...]inundations by water, for many Free-scholes, Alme-houses & other workes of piety and charity, most large­ly and aboundantly expressed, and most ap­parantly knowne vnto them; yet notwithstan­ding all these and much more then I can re­collect, these Grunting Girigashites, these Hog­rubbing Gadarens, suffers the distressed sonnes and daughters of this famous fostering City to languish, pine, starue and dye in their streetes, fields, ditches and high-wayes, gi­uing or allowing them no reliefe whilest they liued, or burials being dead: whose liues in (many places) might haue beene saued, with the harbours and entertainment which the currish Nabals did afford their swine.

They haue their excuses, and by the fault of their hard-heartednesse vpon the strict com­mand from the Iustices and Magistrates; alas, a staffe is quickely found to beate a dogg: for let it be granted, that the Iustices and men of Authoritie did command and counsell then to be wary and carefull, yet I am sure that nei­ther God or any Christian or good Magistrate did euer command or exhort them to be cruell vnmercifull, vnthankefull, barbarous, inhu­mane, or vncharitable: for it there were [...] are any, either Iustice or other of that hellis: and hoggish disposition, let him or them ex­pect to howle with Diues, for being so vncom­passionate.

What haue you beene but murtherers of your Christian brethren and sisters? for the rule of charity, saith, that whosoeuer heeor they be, that may relieue or helpe the neces­sities of others, and doth reiect or neglect it by which meanes those that are in want doe perish, that they are murtherers; and as many of our Country Innes and Ale-houses haue vn­chang'd their signes because they will giue no harbour (vpon any condition) to neither whole or sicke, so without Repentance and Gods great mercy, some of them must expect to hang in hell for their inhospitable want or pittie.

What madnesse did possesse you? did you thinke that none but Citizens were marked for death, that onely a blacke or ciuill fu [...] of apparell, with a Ruffe-band, was onely the [Page 63] Plagues liuery? No, you shall find it other­wayes: for a Russet Coat or a sheepe-skin co­uer, is no Armour of proofe against Gods Arrowes; though you shut vp & barracado your dores and windowes, as hard as your hearts and heads were Ramd against your di­stressed brethren, yet death will find you, and leaue you to iudgement.

The Booke of God doth yeeld vs many pre­sidents and examples, that we are to be care­full to preserue life: it is madnesse to stand wil­fully vnder a falling house, or to sleep whilst the water ouer-flow vs, to runne desperatly in­to the fire: or not auoid a shot, or a stroke of a sword: It is lawfull to auoid famine, to shun the Leper, the great or small Pox, and many other diseases: for if Physicke be good to re­store health, it is wisdome to preserue health to preuent Physicke. The skilfull Mariner in a dangerous storme or tempest, will make the hest haste he can into a safe hauen or a good harbour. I am commanded to loue my neigh­bour, and to bee carefull to helpe him in the preseruation of his life, and therefore I must be respectfull of mine owne.

Our Sauiour Christ (although he was God omnipotent) whose becke, or the least of his commands could haue consumed Herod, and crushed him and his Tyra [...]ny to nothing, yet did he please not to vse the power and strength of his Godhead, but (for our instruction and example) shewing the weaknesse and imbecil­lity of his humanity, hee fled from Herod into Egypt.

By this which hath beene written, it is appa­rent, that it is lawfull for any man to absent himselfe (if his calling will permit the same) from manifest and approaching danger o [...] his life: Beasts, Fowles and Fishes will shunne their destruction, Wormes and contemptible ver­mine (as lice and sl [...]as) will crawle, creepe, and skip, to saue themselues from death, therefore man that hath being, Life, Sence, Reason, and Hope of immortalitie, may lawfully seeke his owne preseruation. But if there be any that haue, out of a slauish or vnchristian-like feare, fled or runne-away from this famous City in this lamentable visitation; I meane such as left neither prayer or purse to relieue those that vnderwent the grieuous burthens of sickenesse and calamity; such as trusted more in the Country aide, then in heauenly prouidence, such as imagined that their safety was by their owne care and industry, not remembring that their sinnes and transgressions haue helped to pull downe Gods wrath vpon their afflicted brethren and Sisters; I say, if any such there be, that attribute their preseruation to their owne discreet carriage, giuing the praise to the meanes, not much minding the All-suffi­cient cause and Giuer of the meanes: If any such haue fallen into the vncourteous pawes of the sordid Rusticles, or Clownish Coridons, let them know that Gods blessings are worth thankes, and that they were iuslly plagued for their vnthankefulnesse.

And some haue beene too swift and feare­full in flying, so, many haue beene too slow and aduenturous in staying, depending too much vpon a common and desperate opinion, that their times are fixed, that their dayes are numbred, & that their liues are limited: so that till God hath appointed they shall not dye, and that it lyes not in them, or any power of man to lengthen life: All these Assertions are true, and I must needs grant vnto them. But for as much as God is the Land Lord of life, and puts it (as his Tenants) in our frailc Te­nements; although the Land Lord knowes when the Tenant shall depart; yet we are igno­rant, and know neither when, where, nor how: therefore, though there bee no flying from death when God hath appointed it, so we, not knowning the time when wee shall dye must seeke to preserue life, by shunning perils and dangers of death: let vs make much of life whilst we haue it, for wee doe not know how long we shall keepe it; and let vs haue a care to liue well, and then, I am sure, wee are out of feare to dye ill.

Being it is both naturall, lawfull and com­mendable, to auoid all these dangers aforesaid, I hold it much reason to shunne the place or person infected with the Plague or Pestilence. But here may arise an obiection, for Master Mulligrubs, Mistris Fump, Goodman Beetle the [Page 64] Constable, Gaffer Lagg the Hedgborough, and Block the Tythingman will say, that they did but seeke their owne safeties and preseruations in not entertaining the Londoners, for they were ignorant, and did not know who were in health or cleare, and who were infectious, in which regard, they thought it the surest course to relieue or harbour none at all: this is partly answered before, for no man doth or can taxe them for being wary and carefull, but for their vnchariblenesse, and vnchristianlike dealing, both to the quicke and dead; for the Towne of Henden in Middlesex, seuen miles from Lon­don, was a good Country president, if the rest had the grace to haue followed it: for they relieued the sicke, they buried the dead in Christian buriall, and they (being but a small Village) did charitably collect eight pounds at the lest, which they sent to relieue the poore of Saint Andrewes in Holborne, besides they al­lowed good weekely wages to two men, to at­tend and bury such as dyed; and though they are no Pharises, to ploclaime their owne cha­rity, yet I could not ouerslip their deserued commendations. In many other places there hath been much goodnesse and Christian loue exprest, for the which (no doubt) but there is more then an earthly reward in store: For I taxe not all Townes and Villages, though I thinke most of them doe harbour some in the shapes of men, with the mindes of Monsters.

A man sicke of an Ague, lying on the ground at Maydenhead in Barkeshire, with his Fit vio­lently on him, had stones cast at him by two men of the Towne (whom I could name) and when they could not cause him to rise, one of them tooke a Hitcher, or long Boate-hooke, and hitch'd in the sicke mans Breeches, draw­ing him backward, with his face groueling on the ground, drawing him so vnder the Bridge in a dry place, where hee lay till his Fit was gone, and hauing lost a new Hat, went his way.

One was cast dead into the Thames at Stanes, and drawne with a Boat and a rope downe some part of the Riuer, and dragged to shore and indiched.

One at Richmond was drawne naked in the night by his owne Wife and Boy, and cast in­to the Thames, where the next day the corp [...] was found.

One at Stanes carried his dead Wife on his backe in a Coffin, and faine to be Bearer, Priest, Clarke, Sexton, and Graue-maker himselfe: thete and many more I could speake vpon knowledge, and should I write all that I am truely informed of, my Booke would out-swell the limits of a Pamphlet; let it suffice that God hath not forgotten to be gracious and merci­full; our sicknesse he hath turned to health, our mourning into ioy, and our desolations into full and wholesome habitations: and though the Country in many places doth be­ginne to share in this Contagion, let them not doubt, but they shall finde the City more charitable and hospitable then they deserue or can expect. And so God in mercy turne his fierce wrath both from them and vs.

FINIS.

TO ALL THOSE THAT HAVE BEENE, ARE, VVILL, OR WOVLD BE MASTERS OF A SHILLING OR TWELVE-PENCE.

SIR Iohn Mandeuill, an English Knight, a famous Trauailer, and discouerer of forraine Maners, Regions, and Rarieties; Christopher Collumbus, Magel­lane, Hernando Cortez, Don Diego de Almagro, Drake, Hawkins, Frosbushir, Baskeruile, Cauendish, and many more worthy Trauailers of our owne & other Nations, whose honourable, dangerous, & laudable atchieuements, haue made their meritorius names to be Recorded, to the admiration of the time past, present, and to future postcrity: yet if it be well considered, it will plainely appeare, that all their laborious endeauours had an end with their liues: But the Trauailer that Itreate of, the Thrice-treble-triumphant Troynouantine Twelue-pence, is like a perpetuall mo­tion, in a continuall trauell, to whose Iourney there can be no end, vntill the world come to a finall dissolu­tion and period. For the progresse of Coriat was but a walke in regard of my Shillings per ambulation: and if the inke and Paper-murthering fictions should be true of Amadis de Gaule, Huon, Sir Egre, Beuis, Guy, the Mirrour of Knighthood, the seuen Champions, Chinon, Sir Dagonet, Triamore, Monsieur, Mallegrindo, Knight of the frozen Ile: If it were possible that all their lyes should be true, of the great Trauels of those imaginarse and neuer seene worthies, yet must they all come short of the praise that is due to my trauelling Twelue-pence. I could haue bussied my braines about many other subiects, as quicke Epigrams, biting Satyres, Sharpe Iambicks, soothing Elegies, pleasant Pasto­rals Odes, Madrigals, or Roundelayes; alluring Sonnets, flattering Epithalamiums, or lying Epitaphs, Panegericks, or name-seruing Acrosticks, and Annagrams, losty Tragedie, lowly Co­medie, riddling Morall, or stately Heroicks: either of all these I could haue poorely handled, but that any Muse stumbled by chance vpon this Twelue-peny subiect, wherein I would haue the Reader to consider, what in some places I speake onely of a Shilling or Twelue-pence, and in some places generally of Money. [...] haue set downe the manner of my Shillings shifting of Masters, more often then the Serieants doe; for they vse the old Sherifs like Almanacks out of date, and yeerely serue the new; but Twelue-pence hath sometimes twelue, sixteene, or twenty Masters in a day. In a word (Reader) I doe not beg your fauour, [...]raue your acceptance, entreat your kindnesse, implore your loue, or request your friendship; for it is not any of these in particular that! seeke or care for: but generally at all I ayme, and for all I hope, and being in that hope, I leaue you to Reade and Iudge of my insuing Labours, and my Twelue-pences Trauels.

Yours, as you please to be mine, IOHN TAYLOR.

THE TRAVELS OF TVVELVE-PENCE.

Imagine Reader (to his griefe and glory,)
Twelue-pence him selfe declares his wandring story:
Relating how he first was borne and bred,
And how about the world he Trauailed.
IF any one (as I dare boldly done)
aHis Bitth, his breeding, and his Life declare:
Let him appeare, and I dare lay my necke,
He wil be hang'd, or else deserue a checke.
From vast America's rude barbarous bounds,
bFrom rocky barren soyle, and sterill grounds,
Where men did not their Creator know,
And where the Deuil's the God to whom they bow,
There from my Heathen Dam, or mother Earth
With Paines and trauaile, I at first had birth.
A hundred strong men-midwiues, digg'd their way
Into her bowels, to find. where I lay
With Engines, Spades, Crowes, Mattocks, & such matters,
They ripp'd & tore her harmlesse wombe to tatters,
And but they did within the mid-way catch me,
They would haue dig'd to Hell it selfe to fetch me.
At last they found me, mixt with dirt and drosse,
Corruption vnrefin'd, eclipst my Glosse,
And from the Earth I in the fire was tride,
And into Ingots purg'd and c purifide.
From d Paphlagonia, some my birth doe count,
Neere Sandracugium, a most famous Mount,
And that poore Slaues which were cōdemn'd to die,
Were forc'd to digge for me laboriously,
Whereas the dampish Mines infecting ayre
Kill'd the poore wretches, and so eas'd their care,
Some say that d Menes, an Egyptian King,
Me to the shape of Coyne, at first did bring:
But when they saw that people, greedily,
For me did runne into all villany,
The Priests did curse the King, that first inuented
Me, that so many wayes their mindes tormented,
For till they knew me, they affirmed true;
No Ennie, Pride, or Auarice they knew.
Thus with great labour, and the death of men,
I first was borne, and afterwards agen
He that to Money did conuert me first,
Was by the Priests and People, bann'd and curst.
With blood and curses I at first began,
And euer since haue beene a curse to man.
Yet for me some excuses may be showne,
The name of Twelue-pence, was as then not known,
Diuersity of Coynes o're all the world
Were scatter'd vniuersally, and hurld,
In Courts, in Cities, and in warlike Campes,
E're I was made, they all vs'd other stamps.
There were some Sicles, some * Meruiades,
An As, a Drochma, a Sesterties,
Quadrens, Sextanes, Minaes, (it appeares)
Didrachmaes, and Sportulas and Denteres.
My name at first did from the Romanes come,
(As Cooper saies) they call'd me Solidum,
[Page 67]Or from a Souldier it was named thus,
(As 'twere his daily wages) Sollidus,
For though the Times are subiect to mutation,
Yet from Soldatus I haue nomination:
Thus Twelue-pence hath an ancient Warriour bin,
Although men know not when! did begin.
And by experience all the world can tell,
Soldatus doth loue Sollidus so well,
That alwaies euery Souldier is vnwilling,
Long to be kept asunder from a Shilling:
If he doth want me, a moneth, two, * or three,
Hee'll grumble, and goe neere to Mutinie.
He hath no mind to draw his Sword and fight,
But (discontented) bids the warres good-night.
When let but Solidus come to his hand,
Hee'll fight as long as he can goe or stand,
Regarding nor remembring child or wife,
Hee'll hazard and endanger limbe and life.
And thus by way of argument 'tis pend,
A Shilling is a Souldiers loued friend.
A Shilling's much more ancient then a pound,
And in pronouncing giues a better found:
As for example; which is most month-filling
Of fifty pounds, or of a thousand shilling,
A thousand pounds, may make the accent rore,
But twenty thousand shillings foundeth more.
Thus of two sillables I am compacted,
When into one the hounds are all extracted.
The Germane Dollers are my Iuniers farre,
So are the Copesticks of the Brabanuer.
The Spanish, Royall, piece of foure and eight,
On me for my antiquity may waite,
The Floren, Guelder, and French Cardecue
To me are vpstarts, if Records be true,
The Grosh, * Potchandle, Stuter, Doyte, and Sowse,
Compar'd with me, are all scarce worth a Lowse:
Nor can the Atcheson or the Baubee
For my antiquity compare with me.
The halfe Crowne is on horseback mounted hie,
Yet neuer trauail'd halfe to farre as I;
The Scotish Mark's a dang'reus piece of Coyne,
'Tis iust a hanging price, if one purloyne,
There is no such hazard in the stealing mee,
I am three halfe pence lower in degree,
And as in pence I for a Iury stand,
I haue eleuen Coynes vnder my command:
And (to grace all the rest) my proper selfe,
Like a Grand Iury-man make vp the Twelfe.
But for men shall not thinke I bragge or prate,
Those whom I doe command Ile [...] nominate.
Nine pence (three quarters) with his Harpe be friends me,
And six pence with halfe seruice still attends me,
The Foure pence halfe, penny [...] comes siddling on,
The Grout my third pence doth depend vpon:
The third-pence is a quarter way for still,
The two-pence in six parts attends my will.
Three halfe-pence the [...] to my commanding sway,
And eight of them at once doth me obey:
The [...] pence are all my little Cozens,
And doth attend my seruice by the dozens.
Three farthings by sixteen attend in plenty,
And halfe-pence to the summe of some and twenty,
And last (for Pages) on my State doth waite,
Of dapper farthing tokens forty eight.
But [...]'re I did attaine my shape and forme,
I abid the brunt of many a furious storme;
I or this the world I would haue well to wot,
Mine honour was with paines and danger got.
I past the raging tear and flaming fire:
And gain'd a face and Crosse for all my hire;
It would almost dissolue a heart of slint,
To be so vs'd as I was in the Mint:
The paines of Purgatory cannot be
But actions to these things that fell on me.
For what I did endure, had man but felt,
It had (like Kitchintstuffe) haue made him melt,
Then my Tormentors, all at once agrees
From my great heat, tolet me coole or freeze,
And dead and cold, me then againe they martyr'd,
Me all in pieces they be cut and quartir'd,
Weighing the mangled mammoers; they pronounce
That fiue of me in weight should be an * ounce.
Then to the Anuill was I brought in haste,
Whereas with Hammers they did me bumbaste,
And there they neuer left belab'ring mee,
Vntill they brought me to the shape you see.
Thus I mine honour, and my forme did win,
Through many dreadfull dangers I was in.
And thought there scarce doth memory remaine,
What I was e're thy siyt King Edwards raigne,
Yet long before his time I was in value,
As read in good true written Stories shall you.
My stamp (when Rome did keept the world in awe)
Was foure swift Steedes that did a Chariot draw,
Which figur'd, that I to and fro should runne
An endlesse Iourney that would ne'r be done.
I am made endlesse, round, which doth portend,
Till the world end, my Iourney ne'r shall end.
And men may plainely in my roundnesse see,
An Emblem of the world rotundity.
Round is the Globe, round is the Hemisphere,
Rond runs the Moon and Sun, each month and yeere,
Round ran the Empire from th' Assiran Kings,
Round vnto Persian, Greece, and Rome it flings,
Round to great Britame, it is come I know,
Whence (hem'd round with the Sea) it cannot goe.
[Page 68]But the maine cause that makes it stay and stand,
Is where 'tis guarded by th' Almighties hand.
Round from the North to East, to South and West,
All Arts haue still runne round, tis manifest.
The Iewes, th' Egyptians, Caldies, Persians,
Deuis'd Arts, and were Astrologians,
And true experience doth approue it thus,
Their knowledge is runne round from them to vs.
The age of man goes round, a child at first,
And like a child returnes vnto his dust.
His body and his limbs, his eyes, his head,
All in round formes are made and fashioned,
The roots, the fruits, the flowers, and the Trees,
All in a round conformity agrees,
Our drinking healths run round, with nimble quick­nes,
Vntill at last too many healths brings sickenes:
When store of money to mens hands doe come,
They say they haue receiu'd a good round summe;
And when a man doth take a Knaue vp soundly,
'Tis said, he told him of his faults most roundly.
The Hang-man hangs a Traytor, or a Thiefe,
And is about his businesse round, and briefe.
Round are the dishes where we put our meate,
Our Cups, wherein we drinke, are round compleat:
Round is our Butter, round our Cheeses are,
Roūd are the cloaths which on our backs we weare,
Beasts, fowles and fish, that euery where abound,
Are (for the most part) euery where made round.
Round are all wedding Rings, implying will,
Mens cares runne round, like horses in a mill.
Thus hauing plainely shew'd, why and wherefore
I am made round, now to my taske once more.
About my circle, I a Posie haue,
The Title, God vnto the King first gaue.
The circle that encompasseth my face,
Declares my Soueraignes Title, by Gods grace,
Vpon my other side is, * POSVI DEVM,
Whereto is added ADIVTOREM MEVM,
The which last Poesie Annagrammatiz'd,
Wisdome, admit me power, true compriz'd,
Wisdome at first vpon me did bestowe
Such power that for a Shillinh I should goe,
When Wisdome gaue me power, I was then
A seruant, not a Master vnto men.
Now, Power * makes me wisedome force perforce
Improper, like the Cart before the Horse.
For in this Age, so many friends I finde,
My power's before, and Wisedome comes behinde.
He that for me and for my kin can rake
Hi's wife, (although a Coxcombe) for my sake,
He that wants me, shall be esteem'd an Asse,
Although he be as wise as e're man was. *
For there's such league one in Triplicity
Sworne firme betwixt the Deuill, the world, and [...],
That those who to the one true seruants be,
Are captiue bondslaues vnto a [...]l the three.
Great sway vpon the earth to vs is giuen,
Por well we know we ne'r shall come in heau'n,
And all that in vs take delight and mirth,
Their onely heau'n is here vpon the earth.
And couetous they are not, in this case,
Because they couet for no better place;
So much for that: now to my shape againe,
You see my face is beardlesse, smooth and plaine,
Because my Soueraigne * was a child 'tis knowne,
When as he did put on the English Crowne.
But had my stamp beene bearded, as with haire,
Long before this it had beene worne out bare;
For why with me the vnthrists euery day,
With my face downwards do at shoue-boord * play,
That had I had a beard, you may suppose
Th'had worne it off, as they haue done my nose.
Yet doth my bare face sometimes, now and than,
Make a young beardlesse Boy, outface a man,
For any Boy and I, doe both agree,
To outface any man that doth want me.
A crosse * I beare vpon my other side,
(A glorious figure of true Christian pride)
And with that crosse I any man can crosse,
From wrong to iniury, from harme to losse,
And in me is such working powerfulnesse,
That those that haue me, can both crosse and * blesse
The English and French Armes, the Lyons & flowres,
Shew es France a subiect once to Englands pow'rs,
And when my Master did respire his breath,
His sisters, Mary, and Elizabeth
Ordain'd new Twelue-pences with me to ioyne,
But altred not my badge vpon my Coyne.
Except a little, which King Philip did,
Which Queene Elizabeth did soone forbid.
But since the comming of my Soueraigne Iames,
The badge vpon my * back more worth proclaimes
And to mixe state with truth, truth with delight,
Vpon the Armes I carrie, thus I write.

Vpon the Kings Armes.

THree Lyons Passant (borne by former Kings)
Subdues the Harp, quarters the * flowres of * France
Fourth Lyon Rampant, equall honour brings,
Though hauing power to war, doth peace aduance, *
[Page 69]vnited in great Iames this Royall stile,
[...]ng of great Britaine, France, and Irelands Ile.
[...] Thus Readers, hauing printed for your reading,
[...]y birth, my rising, my estate, and breeding:
[...]y Badge, my face, my Crosse, my Annagram,
[...]ow mighty in my great command I am,
[...]ow will tell some trauels I haue had,
[...]me (as I remember) I'le recite,
[...]ould I name all, 'twere almost infinite.
[...]Ne ask'd the * Cinnicke wise Athenian,
[...] The cause why siluer look'd so pale and wan?
[...]o, in reply was quicke, and answer'd straite,
[...] because so many for it lay in waite.
[...]nd did men thinke in what diuersity
[...]f fashions men for me in waite doe lye,
[...]hey would agree together in a tale,
[...]hat I had reason to looke wan and pale.
[...]haue of Treason, bin made Instrument
[...] betray Kingdomes, and to circumuent,
[...] vndermine, and to subuert the states
[...]f Empires, and of mighty Potentates.
[...]aue caus'd murther, cruell Homicide,
[...]ule Fratricide, vnnaturall Paricide.
[...]r which a curse doth vnto me remaine,
[...] Runuagate, and a Vagabond like Caine.
[...]d though that God in thundring Maiestie
[...]rbad man to haue any Gods but he,
[...]t many thousands that command, forget,
[...]ot minding God, their minds on me * they set.
[...]o purchase me, men haue forsworne and sworne,
[...]nd from the Booke of life their names haue torne.
[...]r me the Sabbath is prophan'd with workes
[...]f Christians labours, worse then Iewes or Turkes.
[...]r me those Parents that haue nurst and bred
[...]heir children, by them are dishonoured,
[...]r to haue me (to endlesse ioy or woe)
[...]me children care not where their Fathers goe.
[...]with the deu'ls sole helpe (my sole partaker)
[...]aue bin an vniuersall Cuckold-maker:
[...]r where nor wit, or beauty could come in,
[...]any shape I could admittance win.
[...]make the Husband sometimes keepe the dore,
[...]he whil'st (for me) his wife doth play the whore.
[...]nd many times (to moue all hell to laughter)
[...]made a Mother Bawde vnto her Daughter.
[...]forc'd a Virgin cast off continence
[...]nd Chastity, and put on Impudence.
[...]made a reucrend Iudge to take a Bribe,
[...]made a Scribe a forged Name subscribe,
[...]caus'd a Miser sell his soule to hell,
[...]because I here on Earth with him should dwell. *
And eighteene yeeres be kept me day and night
Lock'd in a Chest, not seeing any light.
And though my lot was thus a Slaue to be,
Yet was he a farre worser Slaue to me;
For he had vow'd himselfe to death to pine,
Rather then spend one penny pot of wine,
Although he late had swallow'd downe his throat,
Stinking fresh Herrings threescore for a Groat.
And he did bide this slauish misery,
On purpose to debarre my liberty.
At last this poore, base penurious Knaue,
Was borne (the way of all flesh) to his Graue;
And his braue heire vpon his backe had got
A mourning merry sute, long look'd I wot,
He the next day let slie the ill got treasure,
And I began to see some worldly pleasure;
From my old Masters Chest I was assum'd
To my young Masters pockets, sweet perfum'd;
'T a bawdy house, of the last new translation
He bare me with him, for his recreation,
There for a maydenhead he plaid a game,
Where eightscore more before had done the same.
There did my Master Knaue discharge the score,
And went, and left me with my mistris Whore.
I stai'd not in her seruice long, for shee
Was not two dayes before she set me free,
For hauing got a Frenchisied heat,
She was prescrib'd a Dyet and a sweat,
She gaue me to the Surgeon, for some Lotion,
For Vnguents, and a gentle working Potion,
For Plaisters, and for oyntments in a Box,
And so I left my Mistris, with a Pox.
The Surgeon me to the Physician sent,
From him I to th' * Apothecary went,
But there I thought that Hell I had beene in,
And all the Fiends had in his Boxes bin.
For it appear'd to me that all his drugs
Had got the names of the infernall Bugs:
Zarzaparilla, Colloquintida,
Auxungia Porci, Cassia Fistula,
Egiptiacum, Album Camphiratum,
Blacke Oxicrotium, and whire Sublimatum.
But soone my Master freed me from my feare,
He to the Tauerne went and left me there.
And whilst l in the Vintners house remain'd,
Some knowledge of my Masters state I gain'd.
Let no man say that drunke, my selfe I showe,
For what I speake, I vnderstand and know.
I'le shew some discommodities that waite
(For the most part) on euery Vintners state.
First, if a rowe of houses stands together,
All of one bignesse form'd, no oddes in either,
If one of them be to a Vintner let,
Amongst the rest at double rent 'tis set.
[Page 70]Next, if French Wine be twenty pound the Tonne,
But a poore penny in a quart is wonne:
Besides, he sometimes in the Caske doth finde,
Of Lees sixe Gallons, for a Lagge behinde.
And more, when in the Celler it is laid,
The Carmen, and Wine-Porters must be paid.
And by misfortune if the Caske be weake,
There or foure Gallons in the ground may leake,
Or taking vent, it may grow dead and flat,
And then the Vintner little gets by that.
And if he be a fellow of free heart,
He now and then must giue a pint or quart.
His Candles (night and day) are burning still
Within his Seller, lest his Wines should spill:
And if two Kennell-rakers chance to come,
To come i'th euening, they must haue a roome,
And ouer one bare pint will sit and prate,
And burne a Candle out (perhaps) thereat,
Whilst all the Drawers must stay vp and waite
Vpon these fellowes, be it ne'r so late:
The whilst a Candle in the Kitchin wastes,
Another to his end ith' Seller hastes,
One with the Guests, another at the Barre,
Thus for one pint, foure Candles burning are.
By day-light, this I haue seene some to doe,
Call for a pipe, a pint, and Candle to,
By that time he hath done, 'tis quickly counted,
To what large summe the Vintners gaines amoūted.
Besides all this, his charge is euer great,
For seruants wages, cloathes, and fire, and meat,
For linnen, washing, Trenchers, losse of Plate,
For Glasses broken (by the course of Fate)
*Besides, he hath some scores, which if you looke,
They make his posts look white, & black his book:
And if a debter seu'n long yeeres doe stay,
But six pence for a quart of wine hee'll pay,
When if a Merchant doe a Vintner trust
For his forbearance deare he answer must.
And when some Guests hane liquer in their braines,
How they will swagger in their roaring straines,
Out goe their swords, and by the eares they fall,
And now and then one's nail'd vnto the wall.
The man and's wife abus'd, his seruants beaten,
No moneyes pay'd for what is drunke or eaten,
His house in question brought, a man is kill'd,
His and his wiues heart both with sorrow fill'd,
And whereas other Trades their labours end
At night, till midnight He doth still attend,
*At euery Groomes command officiously
He waits, and takes hard words most courteously.
He that amongst these harmes can purchase profit,
Much good may't doe him, he is worthy of it.
My Masters Vintner Trade, I thought to touch,
Because I cannot thinke his gaines is much,
I loue them all, my lines here manifests,
And so God send them honest sober guests.
From thence vnto the Wine-Marchant I went,
He presently me to the market sent:
For Butter, and for Egges I was exchang'd,
And to the Country with my Dame I rang'd.
Her Husband gaue me to a lab'ring Ditcher,
He to the Ale-house went, and bang'd the Pitcher.
To stay long there, I was exceeding loth.
They vs'd so much deceit with nick and froth.
My Master Host, vnto the Brewer gaue me,
The Malt-man came on Munday, & would haue me,
He to the Alehouse brought me backe in haste,
From thence I quickly to the Baker past,
My seruice there was very short and briefe,
He plac'd me with a Miller and a Thiefe,
That was a merry Master for the nonce,
He got his liuing cogging with two stones;
I next dwelt with a Butcher, that had tricks
To liue and thriue by Mutton and by pricks.
Thus haue I oft beene tossed to and fro,
From bad to worse, from misery to woe,
From miserable Slaues, to Prodigals,
To arrant Thieues, and to good Hospitals,
To good and bad, to true [...]en and to Taylers,
*To Fiddlers, Pipers, Fishmongers, and Saylers,
To Mercers, Grocers, Drapers, Tinkers, Peddlers,
To Fruiterers, for Pipins, Plumbs, and Medlers,
To Silk-men, Sadiers, Turners, Tylers, Glasiers,
To [...]ripewines, Mealmē, Gardners, Grasiers, Brasiers,
To Plummers, Brick lay'rs, Smithes, and Carpenters,
To Dyers, Goldsmiths, and to Playsterers,
To Noble-men, to Water-me [...], and to Ioyners,
To honest men, to Knaues, to clipping Coyners,
To Knights, to Beggers, Scriu'ners, Colliers, Lawiers,
To Stationers, to Printers, Silk-men Sawyers,
To Fooles, to Wise-men, Dunces, and to Doctors,
To Harlots, Varlots, Sericants, Baylisfes, Proctors,
To Papists, Protestants, and Puritans,
To Traytors, Subiects, Matchiuillians,
To Catchpoles, Beadles, Iaylors, Ironmongers,
To Cooks (whose labours do asswage mēs hungers)
To Cuckolds, Bawdes, to greasie Pimps & Panders,
To Cowards, valiant men and stout Commanders,
To Fishers, Fowlers, Shepheards, Queristers,
To Feather-makers, Girdlers, Barristers,
To Players, Bearewards, Fencers, to good fellowes,
To those that make no breath, yet cā make bellows,
To Pewt'rers, Shoomakers, and Buttonmakers,
To Marshals men, and dirty kenell-rakers,
[Page 71]To Leather-sellers, Armourers, and Curriers,
To Iuglers, Iesters, Masons, Barbers, Spurriers,
To Woodmongers, to Tapsters, and to Salters,
To Ropemakers, for Cables, Ropes, and Halters,
To Painters, Pointers, Hackney-men, and Skinners,
To Hearb-wiues, Fish-wiues, & such scolding sinners
To Cutlers, Parrators, to Posts, to Iudges,
To Druggists, Felmougers, and to toyling Drudges,
To Hatters, Powlterers, Coniurers, and Farmees,
To Priests, Clerks, Sextanes, Sorcer [...]rs, & Charmers,
To Bowyers, Chandlers, and Astronomers,
To Gulls, to Gallants, and Embroyderers,
To Basket-makers, Milke-maydes, Iewellers,
To Comfit-makers, and Soliciters,
To Yeomen, Hostlers, and to Vnder-Shrieues,
To Millainers, to Chamberlaines, and Thieues,
To Cappers, Faulkners, Plow-men, Haberdashers,
To Coopers, Weauers, Scullions, Coblers, Trashers,
To Hunts-men, Gunners, Grauers, Rhethoricians,
To Coachmen, Tuckers, Potters, and Musicians,
To Reapers, Spinners, Caruers, and Suruayors,
To Orators, to Carriers, and Puruayors,
To Clothiers, to Logicians, Mowers, Sheermen,
To Clockemakers, Collectors, Min [...]rs, Carmen,
Tobacco-sellers, Netmakers Men, Boyes,
To Sharkes, Stales, Nims, Lif [...]s, Foysts, Cheats, Stands, Decoyes
[...]a Cut-purse, and a Pocket picking Hound,
To as mad Rogues as euer trod on ground.
To married men, to Batchelers, to Lads,
To sober fellowes, and to drunken Swads,
To Maydes, to Wiues, to Widdowes, & Whores,
To liberall mindes, and hungry hide-bound Boores,
To Midwiues, Chimney-sweepers, Beadles, Nurses,
To Seampsters, Laundresses, and Gossips purses,
To Drummers, Draimen, Pyrates, Drawers, Glouers,
To trumpets, Whitsters, Ratcatchers, and Drouers,
To Hang-men, Side-men, to Churchwardens, Cryers,
To Fluits, Horse-coursers, Sellers, and to Buyers,
To Prisoners, to Night-farmers & to Broome-men,
To all estates of forraigners and Freemen:
[...] could name more, if so my Muse did please,
Of Mowse Traps, and tormentors to kill Fleas:
For Ballads, Table-bookes, and Conny-skins,
For ends of Gold and Siluer, Poynts and Pins:
For Knights, and Madames made of Ginger-bread,
And many a stale and musty maydenhead.
These Masters haue I seru'd, and thousands more
Of all degrees and Trades, on seas and shore.
And amongst all the places that I had,
Whereas I found one good, I got ten bad;
If I did serue a poore man but one day,
I fiue yeere (for it) with the rich would stay.
I haue bin Twelue-pence seuenty od long yeere,
And to the world I'le make it plaine appeare, *
That where I had one Master lou'd the poore,
I had ten Drunkards, that did loue a Whore,
For each houres seruice good men had of mee,
To my great griefe I seru'd bad people three.
I weare the Kings badge, yet flie from the King,
And to a Misers Chest I profit bring.
The words I haue are Latine, which implies,
That I should waite vpon the learn'd and wise,
But for one Scholler, that can vnderstand,
I haue seru'd twenty Artlesse fooles command.
My seruice to the Poets hath bin euill,
I ranne more swift from them, then from the Deuill,
I know not well the cause, but they and I
Together long could ne'r keepe company.
I haue a true excuse that will defend me,
They *loue me not, which makes e'm quickly spend me.
But there's no great loue lost 'twixt them and mee,
We keepe asunder, and so best agree.
They that doe loue me best, beyond *Sea dwell,
For there I am like to a soule in hell,
From whence there's no returning, and so I
In the Low Countries or in Germanie,
If they doe get me once vpon their shore,
'Tis ten to one I ne'r see England more.
I haue seru'd Cut-purses, and high-way Fellowes,
And haue brought ten thousand to the Gallowes,
Were he the arrantst Thiefe that euer 'twang'd,
For my loue he would venture to be hang'd.
Some Seriueners, & some Post Knights (it appeares)
To louing me too much, haue lost their eares,
There's many a renerend Bawde rode in a Cart,
For bearing vnto me a louing heart,
There's many a swee-fac'd Punk hath bin perplext,
Whip'd, & behind her *back, much grieu'd & vext,
Some of my Masters, would take paines to haue me,
And like to Barbers, wash, clip poll, and shaue me,
In this I onely differ from a Whore,
We both haue wicked followers great store;
The whore they may kisse, clip and coll, and strip,
Me they may safely kisse, but neuer clip.
And now and then, like imitating Apes,
With Brasse, Tin, Iron, they counterfeit my shapes.
They lou'd me more then honesty requires,
But commonly the Hangmrn payes their hires.
Thus though I be but of a small account,
I haue had power to make my Master mount,
And some againe (by their owne had endeuour)
I haue had power to sinke them downe for euer.
To some I am (in comming) slowe as I [...]ad,
But quicke as Quicke-siluer, againe soone sted.
Suppose that any mischiefe that could be,
Had lately bin by th'onely meanes of me,
As casting good men into great distresse,
T'vndoe the Widdow and the Fatherlesse,
[Page 72]A long delaide sute, longer to prolong,
Or hang'd a guiltlesse man, that did no wrong:
Corrupted a chaste Mayd, intic'd a Wife
To folly, and to loath her Husbands life.
If I had bin the meanes to worke all this,
Or ten times more such actions of amisse,
Yet doe I looke as white as Innocence,
And neuer blush, at the most vile offence.
Nay more, there's none will (for my faults refraine me,)
But euery one will straitway entertaine me.
If treason (through my meanes) bee thought or wrought,
I neuer am vnto my triall brought:
For I haue had the triall touch before,
And am so knowne, I shall be tride no more.
For though I be in ill, chiefe formost Actor,
No man suspects me for a malefactor,
And if there be one man that will reueale me,
There are at least ten thousand will conceale me.
Indeed I was a Pagan *borne at first,
And since in Christendome I haue beene nurst,
So they might haue me to encrease their pelfe,
Many are turn'd worse Pagans then my selfe.
For I no God or deity did know,
To whom I should my loue and seruice show:
But they forsake their God, whom they know well,
And make a God of me, and Infidell.
So, though I be but of a Heathen state,
I am no base Apostate, Reprobate.
Look on the hearbs, the flowr's, the fruits, the trees,
Fowles of the ayre, the painefull lab'ring Bees,
And aske their Owners why they breed and spring,
His answere is, they must him money bring.
Note but the toyling Plow-man, he is sowing,
He's hedging, ditching, taking, reaping, mowing,
Goes to bed late, and rises before day,
And all to haue my company, hee'll say.
For me with dagled Gownes, and dirty ham'd
The Hall at Westminster, ith' Terme is cram'd,
Such writing, running, sweating, interceding,
Remouing Causes, Pleading, Counterpleading,
Aske the cause why, the answer true will be,
*Their wrangling and their strife is all for me.
Looke in the Towne, how folkes throng to & fro,
So thicke, one cannot for another goe,
And how the Shops with Wares are furnish'd out:
How euery one stares, pryes, and gapes about.
Demaund the reason, all will answer make,
They watch, & waite, cause they would money take.
I know, not why my reputation's such,
But still my credit hath beene wondrous much,
I am more willing taken, now and then
Then a seal'd Bond of any *Aldermen,
For by long proofe, the Prouerbe true doth say,
That ready money euer will away.
I am no worse then I haue beene of old,
When thrice my worth, for me was bought & sold,
For I could once haue paid a quarters rent
For a small Garden, and a Tenement,
And that (for me) of Barly, Wheat or Rye,
Three times as much as now a man might buy:
The cause why now I not so much attaine,
Is (that I am not lighter halfe a graine)
But that through greedinesse, and hatefull pride,
I still am ill imployde, and worse applide:
For though the world be in a totr'ring state,
*Yet am I constant alwayes at one rate,
Let house, land, cloathes, food, high or lower rise,
I am in value, alwayes at one si [...]e,
Raise the price vp, or let it fall downe lowe,
A shilling is but Twelue pence, all men know,
I am the same I was, 'tis onely men
Haue lost the consciences they harbour'd then.
I might (as they might vse me) be a blessing.
And they make me the cause of their transgressing,
Some to obtaine me into mischiefe runne,
And some to spend me haue destruction wonne:
*There's many a Master, where I vs'd to dwell,
That tooke delight (with me) to purchase hell.
And all the vicious wayes they ranne a side,
They made the Deuill and me, their onely guide;
(Perhaps) their Fathers went to hell to haue me,
And their mad heires run the same way to leaue [...]
The whilst a haire-brain'd needy crue beset me,
And gallop to the Deu'll amaine, to get me.
Thus vilely, how to get, and keepe, and spend me,
Three quarters of the world doe still attend me.
I haue made Mariages in many a place,
Where hath bin neither beauty, wit, or grace,
All's one for that, I am of that high price,
I can make vice seeme vertue, vertue vice.
I am of that great power, and high command,
In ioyning house to house, and land to land:
That where one hath a dwelling to abide,
One hundred knows not where their heads to hide [...]
And as one may three hundred [...]enants haue,
Fiue hundred know not where to haue a graue.
Far though from Earth man hath originall,
And to the Earth, from whence he came dothfall,
Though he be Earth, & can claime nought but earth
(As the fraile portion due vnto his birth)
Yet many thousands that the earth doth breed.
Haue no place (certaine) where to lodge or feed:
In which respect mens pleasures are behinde
The Birds, and Beasts, for they contentment finde
With the prouision dame Nature giues,
Free (wiout money) euery Creature liues.
[Page 73]Their foode, attire, their Caues, dens, holes, & rests,
They haue and held, as their owne interests.
[...]nd man, that hath a reasonable soule,
whose reason countermands each beast and fowle,
Within whose face, a Maiestie is seated,
[...]eyond all Creatures that were e're created;
Yet let him but want money, and 'tis plaine,
It's th'onely briefe and abstract of disdaine,
[...]espised, scorn'd, deiected, and contemn'd,
[...]nd round [...]bout with miseries behem'd.
[...]earch all the worlds Records from age, to age,
And view Times variable Pilgrimage:
Note that though [...]ortnue (in her totr'ring guise)
Hath play'd at Foot-ball with great Monarchies,
Yet shall you finde how euer States haue varied,
How-euer things were carried or miscarried,
That money still bare the commanding sway,
To whom both right and wrong, and all obey.
Should all the Witches in the whole world sit
[...]n Counsell, and imploy their damned wit,
And haue the aydes of all the fiends of hell,
With many a mumbling Necromantick spell,
And all this toyle and paines of their should be,
To bring Pecunia into infamy,
To cast my Lady Argent in disgrace,
And make some other thing supply her place:
The fruits of all their labours they should finde,
Would be like throwing feathers 'gainst the winde:
For in mans heart 'tis rooted with such loue,
That nothing else but Death can it remoue.
And many humane reasons doe approue it,
That aboue all things earthly he should loue it,
Do'st thou want honour, money straite will buy it.
Although ten thousand needy Slaues enuie it.
Would'st thou an o [...]lice thy estate to reare,
Money will helpe thee to't man, neuer feare:
Do'st want wit how to guide and gouerne it?
If thou hast money thou canst want no wit.
Art thou a damned Matchiuillian,
Thy money makes thee held an honest man.
Hast thou a scuruy face, take this of me,
If thou hast money, 'tis not seene in thee.
Would'st haue a Whore, a coach, smoke, drinke, or dice?
Money will bring thee all at any price.
Woul'dst haue all pleasures in variety,
Money will thy insatiate want [...] supply:
Then seeting money can doe what it will,
Haue not men reason to regard it still?
Some things there are that money cannot win,
But they are things men take small pleasure in
As Heau'n, and a good Conscience, Vertue, Grace,
He that loues Money, cannot these imbrace.
For he whose heart to Money, is inclin'd,
Of things Coelestiall hath but little minde.
If Money were a woman, I doe see,
Her case most pittie pittifull would bee,
Because I thinke she would [...] [...] haue,
Except a Go [...]ty miserable Knave:
One that all night would by her lye and Grone,
Grip'd with the Co [...]icke, or tormenting Stone,
With stinking coughing gruting, spitting, spauling,
And nothing [...]ut Contag [...] us Catterwal [...]ing.
Besides hee'd be so Iealous day and night,
He would not suffer her goe out of sight:
That sure I thinke her Case farre worie would be,
Then is the Turkish Galley slauery.
[...]or none but such as th [...]se whome Age hath got,
Are in the Loue of Money extreme hot.
And when as Hearing, Sent, and Teste, and sight,
Are gone, yet [...]eeling Money's their delight.
The whilest a Young-man, full of strength and pride,
Would make her goe by water, Run and Ride,
Force in all things to supply his neede,
For Recreation, or to Cloath and Feede,
Compell her to maintaine him fine and braue.
And in a word make her his Drudge or Slaue,
And all his Loue to her would be [...]ose,
For hee'd but ki [...]e her, and so let her goe.
Thus if It were a Woman as I say,
Her Case were lamentable euery way:
For Old men * within Doores would euer worr'y her,
And youngmen round about the world would hurry her.
That were she matched with either yong or old,
Her miseries would still be manifold.
But this Commanding bright Imperious Dame,
Vsde well or ill, Shee's euermore the same:
Locke her, or Let her loose, the cares not which,
She still hath power the whole world to bewitch.
I call to minde, I heard my Twelue-pence say,
That he hath [...] at Christmas beene at play:
At Court, at th' Innes of Court, and euery where
Throughout the Kingdome, being farre and neere.
At Passage, and at * Mumchance, at In and in,
Where Swearing hath bin counted for no Sinne,
Where Fullam high and Low-men bore great sway,
With the quicke helpe of a [...]ard Cater [...]rey.
My s [...]illing said such swaggering there would be
Among the wrangling Knaues for me (quoth he)
Such s [...]outing, [...] dring, thrusting, thronging, setting,
Such striuing, crowding, iustling and such betting,
Such storming, [...]retting, [...]uming, chasing sweating,
Refuse, [...]enounce me, [...]ne me, swe [...]ring, cheating,
So many heauy curses, p [...]gues and poxes,
Where all are losers but the Butlers boxes:
That [...]re in h [...]ll the D [...] are in [...].
[...] curse and to blaspheme [...] as they. [...] there
Whilst without [...] of [...] offence,
They abuse th' [...],
And this wicked [...] that they doe make,
Is me from one another h [...] to rake. * *
[Page 74]That though I were a Pagan borne, I see
They make themselues much worse to pocket me.
*These Gam [...]sters make this time a time of mirth,
In memory of their blest Sauiours birth:
Whose deare remembrance, they doe annually
Obserue with extreme edious gluttony,
With gurmandizing beastly belly filling,
With swinish drinking, and with drunken swilling,
With ribald Songs, Iigges, Tales, & gawdy cloathes,
With bitter cursings, and most fearefull oathes,
That svre my shilling saith, the *Heathen will
Not entertaine the Deuill halfe so ill;
But worship Satan in more kinde behaviour,
Then some professed Christians doe their Sauiour.
In Saturnes raigne when money was vnfound,
Then was that age with peace and plenty crown'd,
Then mine was thine,: Thine mine, and all our liues,
All things in common were, except our wiues.
But now the case is altred (as they say)
Quite topsie-turuy the contrary way:
For now mens wealth is priuatly kept close,
The whilst their wiues are commonly let loose.
For he whom loue of money doth besot,
For's owne soule, or's wiues body, much cares not.
It bewitch'd Achan at the siege of Ai,
For which the Israelites did lose the day:
It made Ge [...]ezi false in his affaires,
And gain'd the Leprosie for him, and's heires,
It with th' Apostle Iudas bore such sway,
That it made him the Lord of life betray;
And * Ananias and his wretched wife,
By suddaine death it made them lose their life;
And Diuine stories, and prophane, recite
Examples of such matters infinite,
*'Tis said in Salomons Dominions,
That Siluer was as plenty as the Stones:
But sure the sinne of Couerise was not
Amongst them either borne, or scarce begot.
For all that Siluer, and a great deale more,
Rak'd and Rip'd from the Europian shore,
From Asia, and Sun-parched Africa,
And from the wombe of vast America,
*From which last place the Potent King of Spaine,
Eleuen millions in one yeere did gaine,
And from Pottozy Mines he daily had
Three hundred thirty thousand Ryals made.
To speake what mighty summes King Dauid won,
And left them vnto Salomon his Son,
*Of Gold one hundred thousand Talents fine,
Siluer one Thousand and thousand, from the Mine,
Besides from Ophir he had at the least,
Three thousand Golden talents of the best.
* Iosephus doth of Dauids Tombe thus write,
How th'hidden Treasure there was infinite,
The Basons, Candlesticks, and Censors all,
Lampes, Organs, Instruments most musicall,
Ports, Altar, Tables, Hindges the Gates to hold,
They were all made of pure Refined Gold.
Besides six hundred Shields and Targets more,
The King causd all with Gold be plated o're.
Besides the Richnes of his Royall Throne,
The like whereof elsewhere *was neuer none.
When the Great Macedonian did subdue
Darius, * and his haples Persian Crue,
'Tis said his Treasure did so much abound,
Twenty nine thousand Talents there was found.
And more he saith (if we may credit this)
How that in Susa and * Persepolis,
They found, of Siluer to encrease their store,
One hundred seuenty thousand Talents more.
When Cyrus Conquer'd Croesus * Croesus lost
Three hundred millions of good Gold almost,
'Tis writ that Midas * Treasure so amounted
Innumerable, not be Accounted.
Sardanapalus an Assyrian * King,
Neere eight score millions to the fire did bring.
Where fifteene daies did burne his house, & pelfe,
His whores, & ('mongst the rest) his wretched selfe.
And Plutarch saith, Marke * Anthony spent cleare
Of Gold, full sixe score millions in one yeere.
What should I speake of Cleopatraes Treasures,
Or wealth, or Triumphs of the Roman Caesars?
Or what they were whose riches haue bin such?
Or who they are that now possesse too much?
But here's the question, seeing times of old
Did yeeld such store of siluer and of gold,
And seeing daily more and more is found,
Digg'd in aboundance from the solid ground,
I muse which way the Deuill all is gone,
That I, and thousand thousands can haue none.
I know my selfe as able to abuse it,
As any man that knowes well how to vse it,
But sure I neuer should my Master make it,
But as my seruant take it, and forsake it.
I haue described in particular
What Twelue-pence is, how it hath trauell'd far:
How to all ages, Sexes, Trades and Arts,
It comes and goes, it tarries and departs:
[Page 75] [...] could tell further how it doth command,
[...] *pressing men to serue by sea or land,
[...]ow Bakers thirteene penny loaues doe giue
[...]ll for a shilling, and thriue well and liue,
[...]ow it a pottle of good Clarrct buyes,
[...]ow 'tis a quart of rich Canarics prise,
[...]ow for a thousand things 'tis daily ranging,
[...]nd is so round a summe, it needs no changing,
[...]ow vp and downe the world he still doth fi [...]rit,
[...]nd takes no more rest then an ayery spirit.
Then at the last my Muse to minde doth call,
The mighty power of money in generall,
And how all ages still haue had good store,
Musing the cause my selfe can haue no more.
And * Money hauing writ all this for thee,
Shew not thy selfe ingratefull vnto me:
But as I know thou canst, so preethee grant
That when I want, thou wilt supply my want,
Reward thy Poet, that doth set thee forth,
I'le loue thee still, according to thy worth.
FINIS.

TO THE RIGHT VVORSHIPFVLL AND TRVELY GENEROVS SIR IOHN FEARNE KNIGHT.

Noble Sir,

THe world suffi [...]iently knowes that you know what Ships and shipping are, that you haue plowed the dangerous O [...]ean, and furrowed ouer the ragged bosome of Neptune: [...]et neuerthelesse I know that you haue tooke n [...]tice of my old and we [...]ther-beaten Land-Nauy, being built with­ [...]ut either [...]imber or iron, rig'd nithcut r [...]es or cordage, whose Ordnance are discharged without match or pouder, whose victuals are neither bread, drinke, fish, flesh, or good Ked­ [...]erring, whose voyages are not performed with wind and water, yet euer in action like aterpetual motton; [...] when you shall please to fa [...]ur me so much as to peruse and suruey my strange Fleete or Armado, you [...]ill then per ceiue that your selfe hath sayled in (or at the least) b [...]orded most of my Ships of note: for you are [...]ell accquainted with the Lordship, you are a friend to the Schollership, you haue laid the Ladiship [...]boord, you haue entred the Apprentiship, you are well known in the Courtship, you haue saild in the Good­fellowship, you loue the Friendship, you affect the Fellowship, you know the Footmanship, you are [...]ild in the Horsemanship, you haue surprised and taken the [...] Worship, and you know [...], that belongs to the Woodmanship, the Wardship, and Stewardship; I d [...]e for some, reasons not [...]ddle [...]th all, and I [...]inke you haue seldome or neuer had any dealings with them: the summe of all is, I must [...]; desire your [...]orships parden, for my alrupt Dedication, assuring you that it was only my loue and [...] that put me on, without any expectance of I aronage, protection or reward: and with my best wishes for they perpetuitie of your [...]resene and euer future selicitie, I rest,

Your Worships to command whilst I haue being, IOHN TAYLOR.

AN ARMADO, OR NAVY OF SHIPS AND OTHER VESSELS, WHO HAVE THE ART TO SAYLE BY LAND, AS WELL AS BY SEA.

THE NAMES OF THE SHIPS, WITH THE NVMBER OF THE SQVADRONS.
  • 1 The Lord-SHIP, whose Squadron were of Ships and other Vessels, twelue in all.
  • 2 The Scholler-SHIP, with ten others in all.
  • 3 The Lady-SHIP, with twelue others.
  • 4 The Goodfellow-SHIP, with twelue others.
  • 5 The Apprentice-SHIP, with foure others.
  • 6 The Court-SHIP, with eleuen others.
  • 7 The Friend-SHIP, with foure others.
  • 8 The Fellow-SHIP, with fiue others.
  • 9 The Footman-SHIP, with fiue others.
  • 10 The Horseman-SHIP, with foure others.
  • 11 The Surety-SHIP, with seuen others.
  • 12 The Wor-SHIP, with three others.
  • 13 The Wood man-SHIP, with seuen other.

Besides there were seuen other needlesse Ships, which were in the natures of Volun­taries, or hangers on vpon the Nauy, as namely, The Mary Carry-Knaue, Th [...] Knaues-encrease, The Superfluous, The Carelesse, The Idle, The Coxcomb [...] The Braggard. And what man soeuer he be, that hath, or doth not sayle in som [...] one Ship of this my Fleete, Let him come to me, and I will Ship him, and allow hi [...] double wages.

THE DESCRIPTION HOW THE WHOLE NAVY IS VICTVALLED WITH THIRTY TWO SORTES OF LING, BESIDES OTHER NECESSARIES.

FIrst, thirty thousand couple of Change-LING, appoynted onely for the dyet of such fellowes who had honest parents, and are them­selues changed into very Rascals. Secondly, Dar-LING, this fish was dearer [...]en fresh Salmon, (for it was consecrated to [...]e Goddesse Venus) it was of that high price [...]at some men haue consumed their whole [...]ordships, Manners and credit, in two or three [...]eres onely in this kind of dyet, therefore it [...]not a dish for euery mans tooth: for none but [...]aue Sparkes, rich heires, Clarissimoes and Magnificoes, would goe to the cost of it.

Thirdly, Shaue-LING, which was onely for [...]e dyet of Priests, Monkes, and Fryers.

Fourthly, Fond-LING, this fish was Cock­ [...]eys, and other pretty youths, ouer whom [...]eir Parents were so tender, that a man might [...]erceiue by ther manners, they had beene bet­ [...]r fed then taught.

Fiftly, Tip-LING, a dish for all men.

Sixthly, Vnder-LING, this fish was ship'd [...]or witty younger brothers, poore Schollers [...]hat haue neither friends nor money.

Seuenthly, Starue-LING, this Ling was [...]nely for the B [...]rke beggerly, which was man'd [...]ith old discharged Seruing-men, and may­ [...]ned cassiered Soldiers, and Mariners.

Eightly, Strip-LING, prouided for Pages, [...]ackeyes, and Foot-boyes.

Ninthly, [...]oo-LING, a dish for euery mans [...]yet.

Tenthly, Sward-LING, against stomacke, [...]ut yet a dish of good vse.

Eleuenth, Grumb-LING, a discontented kinde of fish for the poorer sort of people to chaw vpon: for when they doe thinke them­selues wrong'd by their Superiours, and dare not vtter their minds openly, then they seed vp­on Grumb-LING.

Twelfth, Wrang-LING, this Ling was fal­ted by sixteene Pettifoggers, in a long trouble­some Terme: it is held to be a lasting dish, and will serue the whole Fleete with their posteri­ties, to the second and third generation.

Thirteene, Troub-LING, was prouided by certaine double diligent Constables, to the molestation of their sleepy watch, and the charge of many a man that would quietly haue gone to their lodging.

Foureteene, Prowe-LING, is a plentifull fish, vpon which many thousands doe liue, but by vsing it too much, it choakes a great num­ber: and as fisher-men doe baite their hooks with one fish to catch other, so is this Ling (for the most part) taken with three other sorts of Ling, as with Iug-LING, Brab-LING, vntill by hooke or by crooke it is taken with Ang-LING, I haue seene many of these Prow­LING fisher-men end their liues like Swaus (in a manner singing) and sometimes making their wills at Wapping, or looking thorow a hempen window at St. Thomas Waterings, or the three leg'd instrument neere Paddington. There were many other sorts of Ling sent to the Nauy, which (to auoyd prolixitie) I will but name, as Quarrell-LING, was for the dyet of some of the Noble Science, some for Roaring boyes, and Rough-hewd Tittery tues.

The nineteenth sort of Lingwas Fnmb­LING, [Page 78] which is for their dyets who haue beene long married and can get no children.

The twentieth, was Ming-LING, which was for Wine-merchants, Vintners, Brewers, and Apothecaries. Iumb-LING, and Tumb­LING, for the keepers and Cupidian haunters of vaulting houses. [...]id-LING, Fud-LING, and Stumb-LING, from the Schooles of Dancing, and Drinking.

The twenty sixth sort of Ling was Bung­LING, which was the fare of Quack saluers, Mountebankes, Ratcatching Watercasters, and also for all botching Artificers and cob­ling Tradesmen. Mumb-LING was for those that had no neede of the Tooth-drawer. Stet­LING money was at such a Scant-LING, that scarcely it was for any honest mans Hand­LING.

The thirty one sort of Ling was Pole­LING, (I doe not meane a Pole of LING;) nor Barbars Pole-LING, which is an vniuer­sall dish, it needes no mustard, for many a Common-wealth finds it tarre enough without sawce, yet many men haue runne in and out of great Estates by this onely fish: it serues for the dyet of Proiect-mongers, Monopolitani­ans and diligent Sute- [...]oggers.

The last Ling was Pill-LING, which is much of the nature of Pole-LING, and so with Pole-LING and Pill-LING, I conclude my thirty two sorts of LING.

For other sorts of fish they had Carpe enough for a word speaking, great store of Cods-heads, Sharkes more then a good many; plenty of Dog-fish, and Poor-Iohns in great aboundance.

For flesh it was so plentifull, that hee that lou'd Beefe might haue euery day a stone (if hee had a stomacke to eate it:) their Mutton was neither Ewenor Lamb, but to my knowledge they wanted no Weather: They had also good store of Venison, but it was Rascall Deere, or Deere Rascals with some Fawnes; they had likewise store of fowle, as Gull, Goose, Widgeon, Woodcocke, Buzzard, Owles, Cormorants, Quailes, Railes, Cuckooes, Wag-tailes, Ring-tailes, and Birtoures. Their fruit was Medlers, and Wildings, and instead of a Flawne or a Custard, they were glad sometimes to dine and to suppe with Foole.

For preseruation of their healths, they h [...] neither Mithridate, or any other Drugge: fo [...] one Doctor Scowregut (who married with [...] rence, the onely Daughter to Sir reuerence Sti [...] stinke, of Hole-hauen in the County of R [...] million Glisterpipe-maker) was the Physici [...] to the whole Nauy, who did compound a pre­seruatiue of poudred Coxcombes with A [...] milke, which did very well agree with the [...] natures.

Their Bread and Drinke I had almost forgot­ten; indeed it was not Ruske as the Spaniar [...] vse, or Oaten-Cakes, or Bannacks, as in Nor [...] Britaine, nor Bisket as Englishmen eate; but [...] was a Bread which they called Cheat-bread, an [...] a mad fellow told me, it was so called, because the Baker was neuer like to be payd for i [...]. Their Drinke was brewed with a malt, mai [...] onely with Wild-cats, but instead of Hops, the [...] was s [...]ore of Rue, with a little Hearts ease. An [...] thus were they victualled: Now I proceed [...] the description of the Nauy.

Why these Ships are called SHIPS.

I Haue little to say to the Reader because I nei [...]her know him nor his conditions, therefore to auoyd lying and flattery, in putting the stiles of Christian. Gentle, Cour­teous, friendly, learned or honest vpon the Atheist, barbarous, hatefull, Igno­rant, or dishonest; the Reader gets no Epistle [...] all of me: if hee be good and well inclined, it is the better for himselfe; and if otherwise, it shal [...] not be much the worse for me, there's the point. Now the reasons why all these words, or names of my Morall Nauy are called SHIPS, or doe end with the word or sillable SHIP, as Lord­SHIP, [Page 79] Lady-SHIP, Friend-SHIP, and the like &c: The reasons I take to bee these which followeth, and as I imagine most significate; first the whole life of man is a SHIP vnder sayle: for, bee it either day or night, storme or calme, light or darke, hot or cold, Winter or Summer, yet the SHIP is in her course, euer going in her voyage: so likewise Man, let him goe, sit, stand, ride, runne, worke, play, sleepe or wake, yet hee is still going onward in his mortall passage. A SHIP is euer in need of repairing, so is a man either in body, mind, or goods. A Ship is euer vnsteddy; a Man is alwayes mutable: some SHIPS are hard to bee steered; some men are harder to be guided. Some Ships beare so great a sayle that they beare their masts by the Boord and make all split againe: some Men doe spread such a Clue in a clame, that a suddaine storme halfe sinkes them and teares all. Some SHIPS are so fa­uoured by the wind, that they make rich voy­ages and quicke returnes; some men are so for­tunate, that wealth and promotions doe fall in their mouthes. Some SHIPS run through many a storme with much danger, and yet are so vnlucky, that they neuer make a good voy­age; some Men (being borne vnder a three­peny planet) can neither by paines, watching, labour or any industry be worth a groat. Some SHIPS by being ouerladen haue beene cast away; some men by taking in too much haue beene forc'd to cast all away. SHIPS doe wallow, and heaue, and set vpon the Sea; Men doe stumble, reele and stagger on the land. Some Ships haue their cracks and imper­fections gayly hid with painting; some men haue heir bad intents coloured ouer with hy­pocrisie, and their diseased carkases couered with good cloathes. Some SHIPS doe bring profitable commodities, and some bring ba­bles, toyes and trifles; some Men doe inrich a Kingdome with their Wisedome, authority, and practice in vertue: and some men doe dis­grace and impouerish a Monarchy by folly, ill imployed power, and sottishnesse in vanity. Some SHIPS will runne to leeward extremely if the wind be scant, some againe will brauely beare it out to windward and weather it; so some Men will shrinke from their friends or from themselues, in a storme, or trouble, or pouerty; and some few againe will beare vp stiffe, constantly, contemning and opposing he brunts of Fortune. Some SHIPS are ta­ken by others and made prizes; some Men are captiued by others and made slaues. Some SHIPS are commended more for their Bulke and beauty, then for any good seruice; & some Men are more applauded' for their fortunes, then for any good conditions. If I would insist lon­ger on these comparisons, I could enlarge my Induction to the bounds of a Phamphlet: there­fore I will conclude it with King Salomons si­militude, Wisdome 5. cap. 10. That mans life passeth as a SHIP that passeth ouer the waues of the waters: therefore I wish all men to be prouided as good SHIPS should be, let HOPE be their Cable, let charity and loue Gard and Compasse, till they come happily to the Hauen of GRAVES-END, and from thence to that blessed Harbour which hath no END.

The Lord-SHIP with her Regiment.

THe Lord-SHIP, a very Ancient and Honorable vessell of mighty Bulke and burthen, being suffi­ciently furnished with victuals, munition, tackling and men, was vnder the Command of the Noble Don Diego de fifty Cankcemuscod, who was Admirall or high Adellantado of the whole feete. The Cap­taine of her was Signior Caco Fogo, (a Neapoli­tan of Ciuita Vecchia) a sweet affable Gentle­man, yet of so dainty a disposition, and so experienced in Nauigation, that he could not endure the sent of the Pumpe, and for the more sweet keeping of the Ship, hee protested that hee would haue no more of those stinking Pumps to Sea with him: hee came very honest­ly [Page 80] by his place, for hee bought it with his mo­ney, besides the helpe of a Ladyes letter: and to giue him his due, he was well skill'd in the Ass-trolobe, and could take the Eleuation of the Pole, as well with a Battoone or a Broome­staffe, as with any lasobs Staffe in Africa. In foule weather he most constantly kept his Cab­bin, giuing himselfe wholy to fasting and me­ditation, often Casting vp his acounts as neere as hee could, bearing himselfe so equally be­twixt well doing and ill taking, that in all the whole voyage no man could taxe him for ta­king any harme, or doing any good.

The Masters name was Petrus Vaineglorious, his Mate Hugo Hypocrifie, men that haue stee­red the course in the Lord-SHIP many hun­dred yeeres: The Boat-swaine and his Mate were Scoffe and Derision, with Gripe the Stew­ard, Auarice the Purser, and Lawrence Delay the Paymaster; kinsman to Tom Long the Car­rier: which three last are thought to be very arrant Knaues, who haue spoyled the Gouern­ment of the whole Ship. In briefe, the Gun­ner, Coockeswaine, Swabber, and Ship-boyes were plentifully stored with pride, flattery, and other the like Gentleman like vertues.

The Ships that went in the same Regiment or Squadron, with the Lord-SHIP, were these that follow, namely,

  • 1 The Ambition,
  • 2 The Presumption, two stout Ships of very lofty sayle and great bur­then.
  • 3 The Oppression, a Ship of account and esti­mation.
  • 4 The Costly, a ship of great charge.
  • 5 The Mutable, a braue Ship, but in no course steddy.
  • 6 The Selfe-loue, a great Ship, but of smal seruice.
  • 7 The Delight, a faire ship to the eye.
  • 8 The Hopewell, a ship of great expectation.
  • 9 The Debt, a ship of great burthen & much receit.
  • 10 The Satisfaction, a large long ship, a very Cart, a slugge and slowe of sayle.
  • 11 The Promise, a ship very vnsteddy, yet her sayles euer full.

The Scholler-SHIP with her Regiment.

THis Ship is a very ancient Ship, and was built at the first, and hath beene euer since repaired with infinite cost, paines and study. She hath beene of that worthy estimation, that the Monarchs, Kings, Princes, and Estates of the world, haue made it their chiefest felici­ty to sayle in her: all famous Diuines and Phi­losophers haue steered her, and beene steered by her. Some of our greatest Mariners haue beene much troubled with plurifies, plurali­ties I would say, and some haue beene great marchants a Steeple faire, but it was in the old time, Si- Money, was as good as ready Money. The Arts Mathematicall and metaphysicall haue beene the rich prizes and purchases of her painefull voyages: and now at this present (though the world bee much altred with her) She tries her fortunes in this aduentrous Na­uy. The Captaines name was Sapience, the Ma­ster Sxperience, his Mate Knowledge, and euery other Officer correspondent, being munition'd and victualled for the enterprise shee set sayle, with her squadron or Regiment of Ships here under named.

  • 1 The Serious, a ship laden with Grauitie.
  • 2 The Fore-sight, a ship worthy of much re­gard.
  • 3 The Desart a ship of great seruice and small payement.
  • 4 The Industrious, a good profitable ship.

Then there attend her fiue small Pinnaces and Frigots, namely, the Dogmatest, the Cap­tious, the Preiudicate, the Carper, and the [...]ri­tick. These fiue were man'd with yo [...] Ba­chelours of Art, Puny Innes of Courtmen, and humorous Poets, who with their continu­all cudgelling one another with broken verses, had almost beaten Priscians braines out.

The Lady-SHIP with her Regiment.

THis Lady-SHIP was a very comely Ship to the eye, set out with most excessiue and superfluous cost, she was most richly adorned and beautified with Flagges, Streamers, Pen­ [...]ons, and Wastcloaths: there was more time spent in rigging of her, then in all the rest of the Fleete one after another: her cordage and tackling was of fine siluer twist, onely her En [...]ing rope was pure gold: her sayles were silke, of all the colours in the Rainebow: her Masts and yards were strong and seruiceable: her Guyse, Bolins, Sheats, Tacks, Braces, iyes, and [...] were all very costly: her Gaskets, Martlines, Cables hawsers, Fish and Cattrope, Boyghroape, and Boaterope, Boltrope and Toprope, the Guestrope, Bucketrope, and Forterope, Shrowdes, Lanyards, Ratlings, Halliers, Ropeyarns, founding Lines, were all of rare stuffes of great price and small profit; and contrary to any other ship, she had neither Forestay or Backstay, for the wind laye in her will, and if shee pleas'd to sayle any whi­ther, there was no command had power to stop her, or Cable and Ankers strength to hold her. In a word, shee was a fine timbred [...]essell, and had the vertue to sayle without any Compasse, and indeed she was altogether for fair weather, for if it storm'd, rain'd, or blewe, or Sun-shinde too hot, she would lye at Ankor, and keepe her harbour a moneth to­gether, so that neither force or faire meanes could euer vnmoue her.

Her Ordnance or Artillery were in her chase or head, and her powder and munition were in her Sterne or Poope, she is somewhat tickle in steerage, but in sight she is sufficient to sinke or blow vp, as many as dare Boord or Grapple with her. She was laden out with poore beg­gerly Commodities, as Lead, Tin, Leather, Tallow, Corne, and Broad-cloth, but shee came richly fraughted home with Apes, Mon­keys, Mirkins, Marmosets, Spanish Potatoes, Estridges feathers, Island Dogs, St. Martins Beades and Bracelets, Cobweb-Lawne, Tif­fanies, dainty dun Popingay greene Parrots, and Parakitoes. The Masters name was Vant­ty, who had the chiefe command and guide of the Ship and Regiment, who in steering of his course, was neither miserable or liberall, but al­together a most worthy, worthlesse, carefull, negligent, prodigall.

The other ships and Vessels that were in her Regiment vnder her command, were named as followeth.

  • 1 The Dainly, a ship purposely built for the carriage of such things as were farre fetcht and deare bought, and by consequence prouer­bially good for Ladies.
  • 2 The Pride, an intolerable gawdy vessell, of an exceeding losty sayle, with top and top gallant.
  • 3 The Coy, a little Frigot, of small, ser­uice.
  • 4 The Disdaine, a great ship of much vse, but of very strange course or steerage.
  • 5 The Nice, a Frigot that carried the sweet meats or confectionary.
  • 6 The Fashion, a Gallysoist, onely for the seruice of the wardrope.
  • 7 The Bable, a small Frigot onely for ple­asure.
  • 8 The Toy, a Pinnace, that was appoin­ted to attend and follow the Fashion.
  • 9 The wanton, a Katch.
  • 10 The Gengawe, a Hoygh.
  • 11 The Whim [...]rham, a Drumler.

All these three were of most especiall vse and seruice for the Ladyship, whose chiefe charge and imployment was to weare, eate, and drinke the best, and withall not to pester, wrong or oppresse the fleet [...] good examples, or directions.

The Good fellow-SHIP with her Regiment.

THis Ship is very old, and much out of re­parations: She hath beene of such vse and imployment, that shee hath sayled into all [Page 82] Countries of the inhabitable world; she one­ly is the greatest traueller, for there is not a Hauen or harbour vnder the Sunne, but shee hath cast Anker in it. Wine Marchants, Vint­ners, Brewers, and Victuallers, haue thrust themselues into the whole Lordships, by the often returnes, lading and vnlading of this ship; yet now she is so weather-beaten, with the stormes of time, and so wind-shaken with too much vse, that through want shee is not able to beare halfe the sayle which she former­ly hath done.

In the golden age, when Saturne raigned, (long before the two wrangling words Thine and Atine, had set the world together by the eares) then was the Good fellowship in such re­quest, that all Estates & cōditions failed in her, then her voyages and quicke returnes (her la­ding being for the most part hearty loue, and true affection) did maintaine and keepe such vnity, that whosoeuer was not a Mariner or Sayler in her, was [...]csteemed as a branded stig­matiz'd infamous person.

But at last her Nauigators began to steere another course, for some of them had learned the art of couetousnesse, and with a deuillish kind of bawdry, cald vsury and extortion, made gold and siluer engender and beger yeerely so much, and so much the hundred, when Taylors, like so many wicked spirits, flew from one Country to another, bringing home more fashions, then would kill a hun­dred thousand horses; when for the maintai­nance of those fashions, the earth was equally shared and deuided amongst the people (some all, and some not a foot) with hedges, dit­ches, bounds, mownds, walls, and markes, when my La [...] Rusty began to take such a thrifty order, that all the meare in the kitchin should be cheaper, then the washing and pain­ting of her Visage, (if you allow the poudring of her bought or borrowed Periwig into the bargaine) when the world came to this passe, then this Good Ship, this Good-fellowship being forsaken of her Pilots, Masters, and Mariners, all her Saylers in little time declined to bee no better then Swabbers, so that through want of skilfull managing and reparation, and with extreme age, shee is nothing so seruiceable z [...] she hath beene, yet as she is, shee sets forward with her best ability in this Voyage. The Cay [...] taines name was Hercules Dumplin, a Norsol [...] Gentleman, the Master Gtles Gammon, [...] borne at Rumforde, the rest of the Mariners [...] were needles to name them.

The other Ships and vessels that were [...] the same Regiment with the Goodfellowship [...] were these.

  • 1 The Drunken Sisse, a great ship, it [...] thought shee was built at Middleborough; b [...] howsoeuer, she hath made many voyages in to England: she is so beloued, that she nee [...] not presse any man to serue in her: for all so [...] of people doe daily come aboord of her, and freely, and voluntarily offer her their best se [...] ­uice, so that it is a wonder to see how brauety she is man'd: and (many times) women d [...] take their turnes at helme, and steere the [...] courses as well as men. She is a ship contrary to all other ships, for she rowles, reeles, and tumbles, most of all when she is in a calme h [...] ­bour; and the more lading she takes in, the more vnsteady she is; for if the sea be as calm as a milke-pan, yet is she euer tossing, which makes her Mariners sea-sicke, and subiect [...] much casting. Her Ordnance are Gallow [...] Pottles, Quarts, Pints, and the mizers G [...] ­lon: with three hoop'd Pots, Kannes, God­dards: in the which Artillery, almost euery one hath the skill to charge and discharge maintaining the fight as long as they can ei­ther stand or vnderstand. The Master of her is an [...]msterdam'd man, his name is Cornetis van Broaken-guleh; the Master Gunner was end D [...]nis whirlpoele, a man of Deepe, with Gulph the Purser, Snallow the Boat-swaine, and Swili the Steward.
  • 2 The second ship in the Regiment with the Good-fellow- ship, was the sow of Flushing she was a vessell vnseemely to the eye, but yet seruiceable.
  • 3 The Carowse, a ship of hot seruice, and as the Spider suckes the sweetnesse of the fai­rest flowers, conuerting their juice into poison so the saylers in this ship, haue taken a vseto [Page 83] drinke other mens healths, to the amplifying [...] their owne diseases.
  • 4 The Quaffe, a quicke smart ship, much of [...]ebulke and carriage of the Carowse.
  • 5 The Bissle of Breda, a small ship, yet in [...]ntinuall seruice, her worst fault is, she is so [...]we built, that her Mariners can hardly keepe themselues dry.
  • 6 The Sleeper of Roterdam, a great ship, of ex­ceding necessary vse, and much imployment, [...]e is to the whole Regiment, in nature of an Hospitall or Spittle, for-when any of them are [...]ounded, Pot-shot, Iug-bitten, or Cup sha­ [...]n, so that they haue lost all reasonable facul­ [...]es of the minde, and in a manner are so mad, [...]at they dare speake felony, whistle treason, [...]d call any Magnifico a mungrell; in such des­ [...]erate cases as this, the distracted parties are [...]ought aboord the Sleeper, where Time like a [...]ood Cloth worker, with setting a good nap [...]on their threed-bare eyes, their wits that [...]ere spent, and like Northern Cloth shrunke [...] the wetting, are speedily recouered.

    So likewise for the limbs and members of [...]e body she is the onely AEsculapian Taber­ [...]acle; and to speake the truth, St. Winifrides Well, the Bath, or the Spaw, are not to bee [...]mpared to this ship, for speedy ease and [...]re: for I haue seene many that were so dim­ [...]ghted, that they could not see their way at [...]oone-day, and others haue beene so defe­ [...]iue in their speech, that they could not speak [...]ne wife word; others so lame of their legges, [...]at they could neither goe or stand, and with [...] few houres lying aboord of this easie ship, [...]eir fights, speech, and legges, haue beene [...]ll recouered.

  • 7 The Whiffe, a small Pinnace of Varina.
  • 8 The Puffe, a Barke of Virginia.
  • 9 The Vapour, a Frigot of Trinidado.
  • 10 The Snusse, a Caruell of Barmoudoes.
  • 11 The Bark-beggerly, before mentioned, man'd with old cashiered Souldiers, Mariners, and Seruingmen, negligent tradesmen, with [...]ome few Courtiers, whose dyet is onely Starue- Ling.

The Apprentice-SHIP.

THis ship is very slow of sayle, so that a man may make two East India voyages, or gridle the terrestriall Globe twice about (as Sir Francis Drake did once,) before shee can make a returne; the Compasle whereby shee shewes her course, is for (the most part) in our Troyneuantine Ocean, within the sound of Bow­bell; in stead of a Map or Carte, she is dire­cted by an Indenture, whereby she hath more knowledge in the time to come, then any Witch or Conjurer; for by onely looking on it, the least Ship-boy that's in her, can tell when her voyage will be done; she is a vessell that is both singular and single, for none but single persons must boord her; and (to auoid double dealing) she hath banished Ma­trimony out of her quarters, for seuen yeeres or more; her Mariners, doe (against their wills) endure much hardnesse, as hunger, thirst, heat, cold, watching, toyle, and tra­uell; yet many times they are allowed more Lamb and Ribroste then they would haue; yet by patience and long suffering, many of them doe change to be preferd: (in time) they sayle in the Lordship, Courtship, Surety-ship, or some other bottome of Honour or eminency; for they claime a freedome of all Trades what­soeuer, and are so mysticall in their diuersities of mysteries, that not one man liuing can de­scribe them: yet (for the most part) waight and measure are their guide, by waight from the Scruple to the Dram, to the Tunne, to the three Tunnes, and to the three hundred thousand millions: and by measure, from the halfe quarter Pinte, to the whole quarter Sacke; from lesse then the Inch to the Ell, to the Furlong, to the Firmament, and downe to the bottome of the Celler, to the Ocean and the Taylers hell, who indeed are accounted the best bread men in the ship, and such as goe through stitch with what they take in hand. There are diuers functions which neuer doe come aboord of this ship, as Cuckolds, Wit­tols, [Page 84] and others which I could name: but to supply these wants, shee is seldome vnfurni­shed of young lying Knaues, Whores, and Theeues, who (as the Cockle growes among the wheate) do sayle in the Apprentice-SHIP, and share as much benefit as most of her la­bouring Matiners. She hath small attendance, for indeed she is the onely bounden seruant in the Nauy, onely there is a sluggish vessell cal­led the Tedious, that sayles with her, with foure finall Pinnaces, as

  • 1 The Lodge.
  • 2 The Dut.
  • 3 The Wash.
  • 4 The W [...]ng.

And sometime double, single, or no appa­rell is allowed to the Saylers when the voyage is ended.

The Court-SHIP, with her Regiment.

COurt-SHIP, is a vessell of Royall and magnificent burthen, of eminent Com­mand, and inuincible force, if she be well man'd, carefully rig'd, discreetly ballac'd and wisely steer'd; shee is of that impregnable strength, that neither the stormes of sawcy censure, the Gusts of Mallapart babbling, the flawes of Enuy, the Tempests of temporising tale bearers, or the smooth calmes of Flattery, can make her sayle to any other Harbour then the famous Ports and Hauens of Vertue, Ho­nour and perpetuall happines.

But (to vse Sea-tearmes and Phrases) there are a Crue of vnprofitable Steale-shares, per­emptory Hetshots, idle Flat-sheates, and vn­seruiceable vessels Loose-Guise, that doe attempt to boord this admiredship, and so hauing boorded her (like Drones) they eate, and liue vpon the labours and deserts of the painefull, industrious Mariners; these are the youth that after they haue foysted themselues into some meane place of Office, though it be but a Swabber, Lyer, or Lyers Mate (alwayes prouided, that they haue sworne themselues into good clothes) then let all their acquin­tance and friends stand further off, for the esteeme themselues to be no more mortall, [...] that a man had farre better speake to the Ma­ster and Owner of the ship himselfe, thea [...] any of these Pucke-foists: yet there is gre [...] shewe of zeale in their salutation to any [...] they meete, for the word God saue y [...], it is a common as the Ayre with them, but in [...] they neither minde God, nor the party [...] speake to, and (like an Apefor an Apple) they can kisse their pawe, inuiting a man to the [...] Cabbin; but whosoeuer takes them at the [...] word, they hold him to want manners, a [...] to be a fellow of no breeding. The ignou [...] Asse that carried the Egyptian Goddesse [...] procession, when the more ignorant people kneeled downe to adore the Goddesse, t [...] witlesse Asse thought it had beene in reuere [...] to him: so in like manner these vpstart Sh [...] boyes, hauing once crept into an inferio [...] Office in the ship, aud withall being couet [...] with silke, and good borrowed beaten Satt [...] linde and butterd through with Plush or Ve [...] ­uet, they arrogantly imagine, that all the [...]uerence or respect that men doe, either [...] their vndeserued place, or gawdy out-side, [...] done to their persons; but I would haue the [...] vnderstand, that they are honoured and wor­ship'd, with the same deuotion as the bat [...]rous Brasilians, Americans, and Virginians d [...] adore the Deuill withall, which is not forth hope of any good which they expect, but [...] feare of the hurt which they suppose the Deu [...] can doe them. The conclusion is, that wh [...] a storme or tempest comes, the Noble, sto [...] skilfull Nauigator stands to his tackling, and couragiously applyes himselfe either to To [...] and yard, Helme, and Lead, from Post [...] stem, and from Prow to Quarter, when all th [...] seruice Monsieur Mushr [...]me and his Mate [...] doe, is either to eate, sleepe, spewe, and sti [...] and at last for some notorious or meritorious worke, they are duck'd from the yard a [...] of State, into the deepe sea of disgrace, and turn'd ashoare like Caines Imps, prefer'd [...] their due estates of Runagates and vagabonds.

[Page 87]The Squadron of ships that went vnder the com­mand of the Court-SHIP.

  • 1 The Renowne, a Ship of worthy port, [...]rength, and burthen, man'd with approued and experienc'd Souldiers, and Saylers.
  • 2 The Courage.
  • 3 The Resolution.
  • 4 The Foresight.
  • 5 The Expedition.
  • 6 The Loyalty.

    The Perseuerance, sixe tall Ships of most ex­ [...]ellent seruice and performance.

  • 7 The Complement.
  • 8 The Briske.
  • 9 The Strange, Three gallant Pinnaces, but [...]f very small vse, profit or seruice.
  • 10 The Obliuious, a shippe of great bur­ [...]en and most plentifully man'd, with those [...]at had forgotten their Parents, kindred, [...]iends, birth, estate, breeding, and indeed, [...]ch as were so far out of knowledge to know [...]ny man, that they had no acquaintance of themselues, and being meere strangers to [...]eir owne qualities and conditions; and thus [...]as the Court-SHIP appointed and attended: [...]uch of the great Ordnance, were promises, [...]e powder breath, and airy performance [...]ere the Shot, which by reason of the tossing [...]f the billow, and vnquiet surges of the sea, [...]id often misse the marke.

The Friend-SHIP

VVAs a Vessell of great account and estimation, Dautd and lenathan, [...]amon and Pithias, Pilades and Orestes, Alexan­der and Lodowicke, Scipio and Lealius, did lo­ [...]ingly and vnfainedly sayle in her: indeed she [...]as euer free for all cōmers of what Country, exe, age, or state soeuer, for the word Friend [...]mportes free end, which is as much as the end [...]nd intention of Friend-SHIP is free: In these [...]atter times, she should haue gone to sea, but [...]here were not men to be gotten to man her, [...]o for a shift they were faine to furnish her with Kinred, Nunkles, and Couzins, with here and there a false Brother: Herod and Pilate, went aboord this ship (with a shamefull deale of loue from the teeth outward) but their purpose was to destroy innocent blood. It was a merry world when Fidelity was Master of this Ship, Constancie his Mate, and Platne-dealing the Boatswaine, but those worthy Mariners are dead, and an old Prouerbe, As sure as Check with them: in a word, the old ship is decay'd and rotten, hauing onely the bare name left, for she is so much past seruice, that shee can hardly steere or beare sayle, with an aduerse contrary gale, she will fall to Leeward much abominably, yet with a prosperous and fortu­nate wind, she will spread all her Canuasse ex­ceeding saire, and hypocriticall, and so I will describe no further, because she is growne to that cheape rate, that a man may haue her at Bellingsgate for a box of the care.

The Friend-SHIP had two very small Pin­naces in her Squadron, named,

  • 1 The Cogge.
  • 2 The Forst, other attendants she had few or none, for indeed none but these two and one great ship called the Fraude, were in re­quest.

The Fellow-SHIP with her Regiment.

THis Ship was in old time a Ship of vnity and equality, when euery man thought better of his neighbour then of himselfe, then the Master and his Mate (in louing simpathy) had inward fellow feeling of the griefes, paines, toyles, labours, infirmities, and wants of the meanest Sayler or Ship boy; but now the case is so altered, that though we be all of one house, yet not all Fellowes: and though all'in one Liuery, yet (by your leaue) no Fellow­SHIP, for by that consequence, many times the Page, the Foote-man the Coach-man and his horses might challenge Fellow-SHIP, by their trapping and comparable Caparisons; Indeed, selfe-loue hath bred such a disunion and disconsonance amongst men, that one [Page 86] thiefe doth disdaine Fellowship with another: so that this Ship (to patch vp her reputation in some poore fashion) because she will be man'd and laden with none but with fellowes, shee caries none but Foot-ball players, and Water­men: her lading being plowing Oxen, Coach­horses, Bootes, Spurres, Shooes, Pantoffles, Slippers, Galloshes, Gammashoes, Sockes, Cuffes, Gloues, Gantlets, case of Rapiers, & such things as wer by Art or Nature coupled & made fellowes; this ship was once of that esti­mation, that Iulius Caesar would haue beene content to haue sayled in her, but that the great Pompey scorn'd any equality, and would by no meanes boord the Fellow-SHIP with any man. In briefe she is a vessell of such du­plicity, that a fellow with one eye, one eare, hand, stone, legge, or foot, must not enter her, nor any Sculler, or single soald person come within the shaddow of the smokes shad­dow of her Ordnance.

The Ships that went in her Regiment or Squadron were these.

  • 1 The Distrust, a ship that sayles alwayes neere the Fellow-SHIP.
  • 2 The Pickethanke, a ship of great imploy­ment, that commonly sayes out of sight or hearing, her lading being for the most part, priuate complaintes, whispering intelligen­ces, and secret informations.
  • 3 The Brawle, a turbulent ship in conti­nuall action.
  • 4 The Snarle, a small dogged Pinnace, of more vse then profit.

The Foot-man-SHIP with her Regiment.

THis Ship is of most ancient and greatest antiquity, for shee was before any other Ship was thought on, our old father Adam sayled in her, and was the first Foot-man in the world. And Prince Absalon the sonne of Dauid had no lesse then fifty of these terrestriall Amblers to passe before him: how it came to be called a Ship, I cannot relate, but by an Anagramaticall or mysticall coniecture, the onely trade of a Foote-man is running, and running away, and quite contrary to valou [...] or man-hood, hee is accounted the best [...] amongst them, that can run fastest, and he [...] called and esteemed a man of good Foot-man­SHIP: which word Anagramatiz'd, is Foe t [...] Man-SHIP, importing, that running away [...] an enemy, or foe to Man-hood, valour and [...] solution, (thus much by way of Paradox.)

Let the wind blow where it will, yet at [...] weathers this Ship sayles a Trot, her lig [...] footed, nimble-heel'd Mariners (likk so [...] [...] ­ny dancers) capring in the Pumpes and vani [...] of this sinfull world, sometimes a Morris [...] Trenchmore of forty miles long, to the T [...] of Dusty my deare, Dirty come then to me, D [...] of the mire, or I wayle in woe and plunge in p [...] all these dances haue no other musicke, exce [...] now and then he chance to heare an oath, or [...] curse or two from the Coachman.

The Saylers, the most part and best of the [...] are bred in a Kingdome of much fertility [...] plenty, called Realdine, where, after they h [...] all their youth beene accustomed to we [...] Brogues and Truzes, their fare being m [...] times shamrookes, oaten-bread, beanes [...] butter milke, arm'd vpon starke naked, with [...] Dart, or a Skeane, steeld with the spirit of [...] quabah, then they crosse a ditch of eig [...] houres sayle, and land in the most flourish [...] Kingdome of Trtabr [...]e, where by their go [...] Foot-man SHIP they are turned out of the [...] old habits, into Iackets of good Preter plup [...] fect Veluet, plated with siluer, or Arge [...] viuum, (for the quickenesse) and all to be [...] embrodered backe and side, with the [...] gold twist, and the best of the silke-worme sometimes with a Court (a Coat of Guard [...] should say,) or a Coate of Regard, being [...] guarded, vnregarded, with such as deale [...] feather, ribbans and points, that he seemes [...] bee a running Haberdashers shop of [...] wares.

Yet are those men free from pride: [...] their greatest ambition is, not to ride, but [...] foote it, or else to sweepe chimneis, or [...] turne Costermongers; this is the altitude [...] [...] [Page 87] [...]eir aime, and the profundity of their selicity, [...]euerthelesse they know themselues to b [...]e [...]reat mens Trappings, couragious Torch­earers, illustrious Fire-drakes, glorious and [...]mptuous Turmoylers, they are farre from [...]e griping sinnes of Vsury and Extortion, and [...]e such Philosophicall contemners of the [...]orld, that euery day they treade it vnder their [...]et and trample on it; and they are such ha­ [...]rs of wickednesse, that they leaue it in all [...]laces where they come: they are not coue­ [...]ous of other mens lands, for theymake all [...]e haste they can euery day to leaue it behind [...]em; they are so much to be trusted, that their words are as good as their bonds, yet in [...]is their humility they may compare with [...]mperours, for they are as braue as Nero, [...]nd can drinke with Tiberius: To conclude, [...]e Foot-man-ship is man'd with well breath'd Mariners, who after all their long, painefull, [...]nd faithfull seruice, are ship'd in the Barke­ [...]eggerly, and brought to an Anker in the Ha­ [...]en of Cripplegate.

There were in the Regiment with the Foot­man-Ship foure small Pinnaces.

  • 1 The Sweat, a vessell of warne imploi­ment or hot seruice.
  • 2 The Meyle, a Fregate that will endure [...]uch soule weather.
  • 3 The Toyle, a Barke for all weathers, Win­ter Summer.
  • 4 The Cripple, an old Drumler quite past ser­uice

The Horseman-SIHP with her Squadron.

HOrseman-SHIP had not so faire a begin­ning as Foot-man-ship, for Cain was the first vagabond and runnagate in the world, was also the first that back'd and mannadge a Horse (as Polidor Virgil saith,) no doubt after he had murthred his brother, seeing he could not runne from the horror of his conscience, he practised Horseman-SHIP, because per­haps he thought to ride from himselfe. This Ship hath more paces then Time hath; and the comparison may hold well, for in long va­cations, quarter dayes, against payment of Bonds, absence of true friends, or protracting of Maydes marriages, after the Banes haue beene asked, in these cases the Lawyer, the Land-Lord, the Vsurer, the friends, and the Contracted couple, doe thinke time to bee foundred, and starke lame, or quite tyred, and that his best pace is after foureteene miles in fifteene dayes; whilst many a poore Clyent, an [...] vnprouided [...]enant, or vnfurnished debter, or a fellow going to bee hang'd, they thinke time is all vpon the spurre, and that he runnes at full speed a wild gallop. And as a Ship at sea sayles formetimes by the wind, sometimes before the wind, sometimes with a quarter wind, sometimes with a stone sheate, and some­times with tack hard aboord, & Bolin stertch'd and sheate close after, by all which winds shee sayles seuerall paces: So Horseman-SHIP hath the frot, the Amble, the Racke, the Pace, the false and wild Gailop, or the full speed, and as seuerall vessels at sea doe make a Nauy, as Carracks, Argoseys, Hulkes, Ships, Barkes, Pinnaces, Hoighs, Drumlers, Fregates, Bri­gandines, Caruels, Catches, Gallies, Galli­ons; so this Horse-man-ship hath to attend her, her Spar [...]sh [...], her Barbary horse, her Naples Courser, her Germane Steed, her Flanders Mare, her Galloway Nagge, her irish Habby, her Frenchi Cheuela, her W [...]sh Pals [...]ay, her English All, her Smithsield lade, and her Bartholomeus Hebby-horse; and contrary to all other Ships, which haue their Bridle, Helme or Rudder in their sterne or tayle, the Horsemanship is al­ltogether directed and steered by the head, whereby, for want of good managing, many times the Rider makes a head-long voyage (like a man of good forecast) ouer the horse [...] head. And as Horsemen are none of the best Mariners, so Mariners are commonly the worst Horsemen, as one of them being vpon a tyred Hackeney once, (his companions pray'd him to ride faster) [...] [...] he was [...].

Another mounted vpon a soundred Iade, that stumbled three or foure times headlong, the Sayler imagined that his horse was too [Page 88] much Iaden a head, or foreward on (as the sea phrase is) and therefore to ballaste him, that he might goe or sayle with an euen keele, hee alighted & fil'd his Irekin sleeues full of stones, and ty'd them fast to his horse crouper, suppo­sing to make his sterne as deepe laden as his head, to auoyd stumbling.

Indeed this Horsemanship is neuer vnfur­nished of a Iades tricke, or two at a pinch or time of need, (and contrary to any other shippe) in the fairest weather it will heaue, set, wince, kicke, fling, and curuet, like a Midsummer Morris-dancer, or as if the Deuill were practizing a French Lauolta or Corran­to: but I cannot blame them to be lusty, for they are not put to such hard allowance as ma­ny poore Seafaring Mariners are, with a snatch and away, but Horsemanship hath racke and manger, so much at command, that prouen­der prickes them, either to Tilt or Tourney, or long, or short iourney, and if good littra­ture may be in a horse, then I am sure many of them are so well litter'd, and they are so proud of it, that euery morning and euening, the Groome, Hostler, or Horse-keeper, are faine to smooth, cogge and Curry fauour with them. It was reported lately in a Currant (for currant newes) that a Troope of French Horse, did take a Flecte of Turkish Gallies, in the Adria­ticke sea, neere the Gulph of Venice, the newes was welcome to me, though I was in some doubt of the truth of it, but after I heard that the horses were shod with very thicke corke: and I am sure I haue heard of many impossi­bilities as true as that.

Of all liuing things, a Horse hath the [...] stran­gest buriall being dead; for Wolues, Dogs, Swines, Kites, Rauens, Crowes, and such beast and birds, of prey and rapine, are com­monly the liuing sepulchers of dead Horses: and now I remember that thirty yeeres since, I read of a rich and magnificent funerall of a Horse, which was the beloued Palfray of the famous Emperour Nero, and as neere as I can, I will describe the manner of it.

This Horse was a present sent to the Empe­rour from Naples to Rome, being a stately beast, in colour milke white, except here and there a sinall blacke spot, like a fleabiting, for which Nero caused him to be named Fleabitten Otho for the loue hee bare to one Otho, a parasiticall Courtier, who was Emperour after him ne [...] except Ga [...]ba, In brief Nero tooke such a liking to the Horse, that he vowed to the immortal Gods, that if the beast dyed whilst he liued, he would haue him buried with all solemni [...] and funerall Pompe, as was becomming the Horse of so great a Monarch; and as fortune would haue it, within some few moneths, the Horse proued himselfe a mortall beast, yeeld­ing his breath into the ayre, his carkasse being too compendious an abridgement or Epitotty for the magnitude or amplitude of his spirit.

All the Colledge of Horsleeches and F [...] ­riers in Rome, were commanded to his em­bowelling, to see if in their mature wisedomes they could finde by the symptomes of what di­sease he dyed, eueryr man spent his iudgement some said he dyed of a surfet, hauing no mea­sure of himselfe, being pamperd with the deli­cate delights of the Court; others said, that he vnderstood of the oath which his Master N [...] had taken concerning his pompous buriall and therefore for very pride he dyed, to ma [...] his name famous by his obsequies: but them was one old Ho [...]sleech that contradicted them [...] all, and he did affirme that he dyed of a hea [...] griefe and sudden melancholy, whereupon the stables-Groomes were examined, wh [...] quickly cleared all doubts.

Truely said one of them, this skilfull Gen­tleman hath rightly guessed, for leading Flea­bitten Otho to the water, (after he had drunke a health to the Emperour) as he was comming backe to the stable, two of the Senatours Horses met him, taking the wall of him, n [...] ­giuing him any reuerence or dutifull respect, he being his Maiesties onely fauorite (of a Horse) for which disobedience of theirs, be presently fell sicke, tooke his bed, made his will, and set his goods in such order, as shall be declared.

When these newes came to the Emperour he being grieued for his Horse, and offended with the two Senatours, who had taught their Iades no better manners, then to take the w [...]l [Page 89] of his Maiesties Horse, he dismissed them from their Offices, and made two of his owne stable Groomes Senatoars in their roomes, and af­ter proceeded to the funerall of his Horse, in manner and forme following.

First, two hundred poore gald Hackneis, and next three hundred labouring Asses, all all couered with blacke Cotton, going two and two, euery one hauing two bottles of hay on their backes, the onely gift of the decea­sed; then a hundred hunting Nags, and fifty Coache-horses, with ten Horses of State, with each two horse loaues for their dyet bread. Then followed the Plebeians in mourning habit two hundred in number; next the stable­Groomes, Puruayers, Clarkes of the stable, Farriers, Horse-leeches, and Gentlemen of the stable, three hundred.

Then went the Sadlers, Charioteeres, Waggoners, Catters, Sumptermen, Litter­men and Coachmen three hundred.

After them Singers, Pagan Priests: Flam­nines and Archflammines, seuenty.

Then the Hearse richly behung with Scut­ [...]heons, Deuices, Mottoes, and Impresses.

After them the Emperour Nero chiefe mour­ner and his Traine borne vp by Otho, and [...]ong sporus.

Next went two old Asses all in blacke Vel­ [...]et as mourners of State or Cheuals de dueil.

Then followed Agripina ( Nero his mother) with the faire Popeta, and the beautifull Acte, [...] two of his Concubines) and after them Galba Nimphidius Vitellius, with others: it is thought that sencca sat all the while in his study, laugh­ing at the Funerall.

Lastly, a great troope of straggling atten­dants: The Hearse being set downe in Cam [...]us Martius, Otho began this speech which follow­ [...]th, in blancke Verse.

I Niurious death, to make an Emperour mourne
Fleabitten Otho's timelesse Exequies,
Who might haue liu'd, and borne great Conquerors,
And beene the father of most valiant Coltes;
Lament, yee Meedes, whereon this Palfray graz'd,
Ah I strew the streets of Rome with rotten hay (griese
Let Pease, Beanes, Oares, and horse-bread must with
Rust Curry-combes, and Saddles rent in sunder,
Breake stirrop-leathers, g [...]rthr and bridke, breake,
Fall racke and manger p [...]ank [...]li [...]in [...] wa [...],
For you shall ne're support [...] his weight [...]egure,
You stable Groomes, [...] comb'd [...] emp [...]d mane,
And oft were grac'd to m [...]e vp Otho's t [...]ine,
Sigh, groane, and [...], and bowle and cry,
In li [...] and ho [...] dung [...]ting [...]:
Thinke how brane Otho did his [...] resplre,
Who with his heeles hath oft strook sparkling fire.

Heere Nero Speakes.

THe brauest beast that euer Emperour back'd,
I hat thump'd the field of Mars with greater grace
Then [...]egas [...]si caring Tritones
About the valleies neere the Muses Hills,
In battalle [...]fier then the Northern wind,
But in a triumph stout and full of seate,
Listing his hooses, as if he learn'd the ground.
And meant to make the [...] port his weight.
As ma [...]nerly and moderate at his meate
As is a Bride-groome on his wedding day,
For neuer would he touch a locke of hay,
Or smell vnto a heape of prouender
Vn till be heard anoyse of Trumpe [...]s found,
Whereby he knew Our meate was serued in.
But after meales, how he would medirate
Vpon his Tutors reuerend documents,
And by himselfe would [...] what was taughe him,
Offring to run the Ring, and fetch Curuets,
To trot in state as we were on his backe,
And to [...]-doe his schole-master in Art [...],
The thought of these thi [...]gs ( Otho) kils my heart,

Otho speaks to the two Asses.

THen these poore Animals haue cause to weepe,
Most reuerend Asses, you haue lost a friend,
A friend, a father haue your worships lost,
Who would haue giu'n you pensions in your age,
And made you Beadsmen, fi [...]e from Cariages.
When he lay speechlesse, on his death bed, then
He pointed to the hay-lost with his heeles,
As who should say, If I dye, giue it them.
Then to the Wardens of his Company,
(For he was made free of the Blacke-Smiths Craft)
He turn'd about, bade them pull off his shooes,
And take them as true tokens of his l [...]u [...].
And as he dying shewed his loue to them,
Because his Master did delight in Playes,
He win'd that of his [...]e should [...] [...] be made,
And of his tayle, a head-tire for a Deuill.
One Asse be made his sole Exceutor,
The other Ouer-seer of his will:
[Page 90]Graunt, Iupiter they, may performe the same
To doe andoue-see, that men may say,
They were Iust Ouer-seers another day.

Epitaph.

HEere lyes the [...]orse, whose foure foote Progeny
Did trot in Li [...]ed before the walls of Tfoy:
Yea in the [...] of the Greekes perdye,
And on his brest this Motto, Tar ma soy,
Kin (By the Sire) to winged Peg [...]ut,
And by the Mother, to the King of Mules
Whose Vnckle was the great Bucephalus,
Whose Armes, foure Horse shooes, and the field was Gules.

To conclude, this Horsemanship after many stormes, tempests, gusts, and flawes came at last home to her ancient hauen the Beare-garden, richly laden with these commodities follow­ing.

The Chinegall, the Nauelgall, Windgall, Spurgall, Lightgall, and Shacklegall, the Wormes, the Staggers, the Mallenders, and Sallenders, Scratches, Pole-euill, the Anti­core, and the Pompardye, the Dropsie, the Feauer, the Palsie, the Glanders, the Frenzy, the Cough, and the Colt-euill, the Yellowes, the Fashions, the Splinters, the Spanines, the Ring-bones, the Quitter-bones, the Curbes the Rotten-f [...]ush, and the Crowne­scab, the Hide-bound, the Hawes, the Crest­fall, the Viues, the Bloody-riffes, the Crampe, and the Canker, the Howkes, the Toothake, the Surfet, the Tonghurt, the Paps, and the Bladders, the Tyrednesse, the Lowsinesse, the Surbare, the Farley, the Pose, and the Strangle, the Broaken winde, the Hoofe-bound, the Botch, the Bots, the Wen in the Groyne, the Rot in the Lungs, the Ky [...]es the Pearle, and the Pin, and the Webbe, the Cloyde, the Blood-shot, the Wrung in the Withers, the Straine, the Pricke in the sole, the Loose in Hoofe, the Graneld, the [...]oundring, and the Shedding of the haire, the Horse-hipped, the Wrench, the Neckecricke, and the Shoulder splar.

These are the commodities wherewith the Horsemanship was sraight, which are so shared and deuided, that a man cannot light of any horse, young or old, but he is furnished with one, two, or more of these excellent gifts.

The Ships that attended in the Squadron or Regiment with the Horseman ship, were these.

  • 1 The Race, an aduenturous vessell of mu [...] expectation, and admirable swiftnesse.
  • 2 The Pos [...]e, a vessell of much vse, quicken turne, and exceeding hazzard, toyle and m­uell.
  • 3 The Hackenay, a most seruiceable Pinnace that endures all weathers, and is so common that she is to be hyred by any or vsed by all.

The Suretie-SHIP, with her Regiment.

THis is a Ship of great antiquity, a [...] makes more voyages then all the rest [...] the Nauy, she is the onely Marchant-aduenturer vnder the Sunne, for they that sayle [...] her, doe hazzard goods, lands, money, repu­tation, friends, kinred, credit, libertie [...] life; of all which rich commodities (alway [...] at her returnes) she is to prouident, that [...] makes one Iayle or other her Warchou [...] where it is more safely kept vnder locke an [...] key, then the golden Apples of the Hespa [...] were guarded by Dragon; she is so easie [...] be boorded, that a man neede not trouble [...] feere to enter her, or vse any boate to come [...] her, for if all her Mariners should goe to [...] by water, then were a Water-man the rich [...] trade belowe the Moone; on [...]ly a dash with [...] pen, the writing of a mans name, passing [...] word, or setting his marke (though it be [...] the forme of a paire of Pot-hookes, a Crosse, [...] crooked billet, or a M for Iohn Tompsen, [...] of these facile wayes hath ship'd a man into th [...] Suretie-SHIP, during his life and his ha [...] after him, and though the entrance into her [...] so easie, yet she is so full of impertinent as [...] needy courtesie, that many men will lend [...] hand into her, with more faire entreaties, t [...] quests and inuitations, then are common [...] vsed to a Maske at the Court, or a groce [...] Gossips in the Countrey, and being once [...] tred, a ten peny nayle driuen to the head [...] [Page 91] [...]s soon leape out of an oaken post, as a man may [...]et ashoare againe: she is painted on the out­ [...]de with vowes and promises, and within her [...]re the stories of the tatter'd Prodigall, eating Huskes with the Swine, the picture of Niobe, with A [...]ecto, Tesiphene, and Megera. dancing [...]achrimae: Her Armes are a Goose quill or [...]en, couchant in a sheepe skin field [...]able: the Motto aboue N uerint vn uersi, the supporters [...] Vsurer, and a Scriuener, the crest a W [...]d [...]ke, the Mantles red wax, with this other Motto beneath, Seal'd and de [...]cra, this Ship hath the Arte to make parchement the deerest stuffe in the world: For I haue seene a piece little big­ger then my two hands, that hath cost a man a thousand pound; I my selfe paid a hundred [...]ound once for a small rotten remnant of it. [...]he is rig'd most strangely, her ropes and ca­ [...] are [...]onditions and Obligations, her Anchors [...]re Leases forfeited, her Lead and Line are Morgages, her maine sayles are interchangea­ble indentures, and her top-sayles Bils & Bonds, [...]er small shot are Arrests and Actions, her great Ordnance are Extents, out-law [...]ies and Exe­cutions: All her deckes are stucke with tenter­ [...], [...]uo [...]es, to hold those last that enter her, her [...]ading is Locks, keyes, Bolts, Shakles, Mana­ [...], Fetters, Grates, Traps for vern in, Gri [...]s for wild Guls, Baytes for tame Fooles, Sp [...]tn [...]gs for Woodcockes, [...]senets for Connies, T yles for mad Buc [...]es, Pennes for Geese, Hookes for Gudgeors, snares for Buzzards, B idles for old lades, [...]bes for Colts, Pusals for Bulfin­ches and Hempen-steps for Asses, and besides all this, she is plentifully stored with want, hun­ger cold, pouerty, and nakednesse.

The Ocean that she sayles in, is the spacious Marshall SEA, sometimes shee ankers at the Kings-Bench, sometimes at the Gulph of the Gate-house, sometimes at the white-Ly [...]n Greeke sometimes at Nergate Rode, sometimes, at Zudgate Baye, sometimes at Wood street Har­bour, and sometimes at the Poultrey Hauen.

There is great reason to call a man being bound for another, Surety SHIP, for a ship is an vnruly benst, it shee be not surely tyed, moted, and ankered, and therefore to bee a surety is as much to say Ty sure, the addition of the word ship, being a kind of metaphoricall allusion, to the turbulent to [...] of the [...]nfor­tunate sorety, vpon the restlesse waues and billowes of miserable varieties and mutabili­ties of time and trouble.

And though Surety SHIP be (for the most part) preind [...] a [...]d benfell onely to it [...], yet as in the Sea, the [...]ting of one wane pro­ceedes or to the fall of another; so one out of the [...]es of Surety-SHIP [...], (like Beetles or S [...] which breed out of Dung) there doe spring a swarme or generation of vertues (Vi­per, I was about to say) as busie Sol citours, numble-tongu'd [...], g [...]eedy Seruants, hungry Ye men, deuouring [...], boy­strous Ba [...] mercilesse, dogged [...]l [...] and currish [...] for as Butchers trade is to hue vpon the slaughters of beasts; so cannot the Kennels, Litters and Styes of those aboue-named [...] or C [...]bals, liue, eate, or subsist, but vpon the confusion of men, and as a Horse being dead in the fields and strip'd, is a banket for Dogs, Hogs, Rauens, Kites, and Crowes, so is a Surety to those Vermins, who deuoure and prey vpon his estate and Ca [...]kase, both aliue and dead.

But for conclusion of this blunt point, I thinke I haue mistaken all this while in calling Suret [...]ship, for the consequence and successe of the voyage will better allowe it the name of Surety Sheepe, which is a warning or document to Ty [...]ne Sheepesure, which I imagine to bee a significant inuersion of the word for, as the bridle and harnesse ef a lyue horse, is for the most part made of the kinne of a dead horse, so he that is bound for another mans debt, is like a silly innocent sheepe (of which flocke I may for my ranke and calling be a Bell-wea­ther) with a bond of a dead sheepes skin tyed sure, as a [...], either to pay the debt, or surely he is sure to lye (if his ability helpe not) where I would be loth to be his bed-fellow.

The Ships and Pinnaces that are in the Regiment with the Surety SHIP, are these [...].

  • 1 The Aduenturous, a desperate hot ship, ve­ry hard to be guided or steered in any steddy course.
  • 2 The Kindheart, a ship that will sayle any [Page 92] whither, or to what Port a man would haue her.
  • 3 The Feole, a ship of great burthen, and for sayle, and steerage much like the Kinde­ [...].
  • 4 The Negligence an Argosey that through want of good fore sight, brought the Suretyship in great danger.
  • 5 The Decay, a ship much broken.
  • 6 The S [...]ape-th [...]s [...], a small ragged Catch, that hangs or depends vpon the whole Regi­ment.

The Wor-SHIP with her Squadron or Regiment.

THough the first syllable of this Ships name be Worse, whereby shee is called Worse-SHIP, yet she is a better ship then ma­ny are aware of, and indeed shee is farre too good for euery, or for any Knaue to come aboord her. In my opinion shee doth not be­long to any mortall man, for God himselfe is both Owner and Master of her.

Yet many there are who claime an interest in her, as first the Deuill would haue her be­long to him, for which cause he makes many barbarous Nations to adore and WOR-SHIP him, and to sacrifice themselues, their chil­dren, and all that they esteeme dearest vnto them, to his internall Hell-hood, and for his better holding and keeping of this Worship, he hath his Ministers and Agents, in the most Kingdomes of Christendome, who with their juggling leagerdemaine, hath guld, blinded, and besotted many thousands of all Estates, ages, sexes, that they will fall downe and wor­ship Stockes, Stones, Blockes, Idols, Images, Reliques, dead mens bones, or a piece of bread, as the heathen Idolatrous Egyptians did for­merly adore and Worship Onions and Gar­licke.

And as there are many that for desert are worthy Pilots, Steeremen and Mariners in the worship, and are ship'd into her onely for their merits, so there are a great many, and more then a good many, that by falsehood and indi­rect courses, haue ship'd themselues in her [...] for as Cornelius Agrippa saith in his Vanity [...] Sciences, some haue goten the worship by co [...] ­ting throats in the wars; some by being great mens Bawdes, or Cuckolds in peace; some for marrying cast stale Concubine, or Bastard [...] some by bribery, extortion or oppression; some by false weights and measures; some by [...] cessiue drunkennesse of others; some by these some vpon credit; some for ready money, and some for fauour; which is a word crept [...] the place of merit [...]ince the dayes of Quin [...] the Oratour: the most corrupted Iustice [...] boord her; the slothfullest Diuine will hauen Cabin in her; the carpet Knight will be ship [...] in her; the most cowardly Captaine will ente [...] her; and many of least faith and conscience will lay clayme to her: shee hauing store o [...] such false owners, I say no more of her, b [...] commit her to the mercy of Wind, Tide, a [...] Time.

There went with her in her Regiment, these that follow.

  • 1 The Abuse, an old ship, too much i [...] vse.
  • 2 The Purchasse, a vessell all for Simony [...] ready money.
  • 3 The Mittimus, a dangerous Barke, whose word is, At your perill.

The Huntsmans-SHIP; or Wood­man-SHIP, with her Squadron or Regiment.

A Good Huntsman is a good Woodman, and a Wood-man is a mad man in the North parts of England, for when they thinke that a man is distracted or frenzy, they will say The man is Wood, (meaning Mad) the rea­son why it is called Woodman-SHIP, I take it to be thus deriued, as first a ship hath a mul­tiplicity of Ropes, Cordage, Masts, Rigging and Ground-tackle (which I haue partly na­med before in the Lady-ship,) so hath this Woodman-ship, diuers and sundry tearmes [Page 93] Art, (almost past numbring) as you must [...] Rowse a Bucke, Start a Hare, and vnkennell a [...] againe you must Harbour a Hart, and Lodge [...]agge, or a Bucke; and in processe of time wayes a Hars or a Bucke doe come to perfe­ [...]on, which many men (through imperfe­ [...]on) doe neuer attaine to: as a Bucke is first [...]aune, the second yeere a Priket, the third [...]ell the fourth a Sore, the fifth a Bucke of [...] first head, and the sixt yeere a Bucke: so a [...]rt is the first yeere a Calse, the second a Bro­ [...] the third a Spaide, the fourth a Staggard, the [...]th a Stagge, and the sixt yeere a Ha [...]t, (but [...]me are of the mind, that a Stagge cannot be Hart) vntill some King or Prince haue almost [...]nted his heart out: besides these ambiguous [...]ntigrigated Phrases, the hornes haue many [...]gmaticall Epithites, as a Hart hath the Burs, [...]e Pearles, the Antliers, the Surantlers, the Roy­ [...] [...] the Surroyals, and the Croches. A Buckes [...]rnes are composed of Burre, Beame, Branch, [...]duancer, Pal [...]e, and Spelier. And to decline [...]m the Crowne or horne, to the Rump or [...]rouper: A Deere, Bore, a Hare, a Foxe, [...]d a Wolfe, haue no more tayle then a Iacke­ [...]es­ [...]-Apes, for it is a Deeres Single, a Bores [...]ath, a Hare or Connies Scut, a Foxes Bush, [...]d a Wolfes Stern; besides there are most ex­cellent Terragraphicall and mundified names [...]d titles; for that which is in Welch a Ba [...]r, [...] French a [...] Marde, I could name it in Eng­lish, but (Sir Reuerence for that) in Wood­ [...]-ship, it is cald a Deeres Fewmets, a Bore, or eares Leasses, a Hare or Conneys Crottores, a [...]oxe or a Badgers Feance, and an Otters [...]aintes, all which in English is a, T, &c. I [...]inke Nimrod the great Hunter would haue [...]ere a made man or a Wood-man, if he had [...]died halfe the wild and harebraind tearmes, [...]at belongs to this SHIP: and sure it made [...]cteon horne-mad, in his too vehement pur­ [...]te of the Game; for what Necromanticke [...]ell, are Rut, Vault, Slot, Pores, and En­ [...] [...]yes Abatures, and Foyles, Frayenstockes, [...]ith and Fell, Layres, Dewclawes, and Dowl­ [...] [...]rs, drawing the Couert, Blemishes, Sewel­ [...] [...]g, Auant-laye, Allaye, Relaye, Foreloy­ [...]ng Hunt-cownter, Hunt-change, Quarry, Reward, and a thousand more such Vtopian fragments of confused Gibberish, that should I proceed farther, I should in stead of an vn­derstanding Wood-man, shew my selfe to be an ignorant mad man.

Is it not a worthie peece of seruice for fiue or sixe men in the Countrey (whose dwellings are foure or fiue miles asunder, to make a mad match) to meete together on such or such a morning to hunt or course a Hare, where if she be hunted with Hounds, shee will leade them such dance, that perhaps a Horse or two are kil'd, or a man or two spoil'd, or hurt with leaping hedges, or ditches, at the least after foure or fiue dayes preparation, and some ten pounds charge among men, horses, and dogs, besides an infinite deale of toyle and trouble, and an innumerable number of oathes and curses: after this great deale of doo, the maine purchase can bee [...]o more then a poore silly Hare, which is but a dry meate, and will take more butter in the basting, then her carkasse is worth.

Our ancient Progenitor or first King of this Iland (Brute) was so expert in this Wood­man-ship, that he kil'd his owne father Siluius, shooting him with an arrow, mistaking him for a Hart, a Stagge or a Bucke: and William the second, surnamed Rusus, King of England, was by the like mischance of a shot made at a Deere, (by Sir Walter T [...]ell Knight) slaine with the glance of an arrow agoinst a tree, in the New­forrest in Hampshire.

I thanke Coopers Dictionary that tells mee that Venator is a Hunter, and Venatrix a Hun­tresse, or a Woman Hunting, and that Mere­trix is a Whore or a Woman Hunted: all these words hauing deriuation from, or allu­sion to [...]enersu [...], [...] [...]h [...]us, for though Diana the hunting Goddesse of Chastity bee a constant Venatrix, yet Venus the Queene of Loue neuer failes a right W [...]man of a Meretrix. But if Venator and Venatri [...] [...]ald hunt as much as Meretrix is (or [...] [...]) hunted, I thinke verily that there hath not beene (or in time would not be) one Deere left in many of the greatest Forrests, Parkes, and Chases of Christendome.

[Page 94]Besides, there is not a perfect Mariner in the Woodman-SHIP, but hee hath ingrafted in him a most abundant gift of promising, for one of them will sweare and vowe to giue more Deere away to sundry persons, then there are vnder the keeping and command of six or se­uen of them: and I haue heard, that one white Bucke in a small Parke (in a place which I could name within the Walles of Christen­dome) hath beene giuen away at least to a thousand seuerall persons, by one Keeper, and the said Keeper is so kind, that hee will neuer deny a Bucke to whosoeuer will aske. A Deere friend (whom I loue Deere) did promise mee a Decre foure yeeres since, and foure Deere iourneyes I made for my Deere, and still with delayes and demurres I was put off from my Decre, with promises, that at such and such a time I should haue my Deere, but now I am in despaire of my Deere, and I meane to take no more care for my Deere; And so Adue my Deere; but indeed hee that had the bounty to promise me this Deere, hath the grace to blush whensoeuer he sees me, and therefore I doe loue him for his modesty and shamefast­nesse, and had it not beene for that, and that I doe loue him indeed, I would long before this time haue sung him a Kerry-Elison, that should haue made him beene glad to haue pro­mist me a brace of Bucks more, to haue stop'd my mouth withall, although in performance my Deere had beene nonest inuentus.

In a word, of all sorts of Deere I hold s [...]u [...] Venison to be the most honestly gotten, be­cause the Theeues are so quiet, close, priu [...] and silent at their worke, that they haue no lei­sure to sweare or curse, as men doe when it [...] lawfully taken, and my conceite is, that why oathes and curses are most restrain'd, the [...] most honesty, and piety remaines. But commonly swearing, execrations, and drinking are the ceremonious Rites of a Buckes, or Hares death, and obsequies.

With the cry of the Hounds,
And the Eccho resownds
Through the Meade, through the fallow,
With the Horne, with the hallow,
With the Horse lowd neigh, & the Backe at a B [...]
And with the Deers fall, & the Horn sounding [...]
My Pen bids Hunting Woodman-SHIP farewell.

The Ships and Pinnaces that serued in t [...] Regiment vnder the Woodman-SHIP, [...] these.

  • 1 The Chanter.
  • 2 The Bawman.
  • 3 The Ringwood.
  • 4 The Slut.
  • 5 The Beuty.
  • 6 The Daysie.
  • 7 The Kilbucke, with diuers others, all the [...] being for course, or chase.
FINIS.

THE PRAISE, ANTIQVITY, AND COMMODITIE OF BEGGERIE, BEGGERS, AND BEGGING.

A Begger from an *Ancient house begins,
Old Adams sonne, and heire vnto his sins:
[...]d as our father Adam did possesse
[...]e world, there's not a Begger that hath lesse.
[...]r whereof is the world compact and fram'd
[...]t Elements, which to our sence are nam'd,
[...]e Earth, the Ayre, the Water, and the Fire,
With which all liue, without which all expire?
[...]ese, euery Begger hath in plenteous store,
[...]d euery mighty Monarch hath no more.
[...]or can the greatest Potentate aliue,
[...]e meanest Begger of these things depriue.
[...]e * Earth is common, both for birth or Graues,
[...]r Kings, and Beggers, Free-men, and for Slaues:
[...]nd a poore Begger as much Ayre will draw,
[...] he that could keepe all the world in awe,
[...]he * Water, be it Riuers, Seas or Spring,
[...]ts equall for a Begger as a King.
[...]nd the Celestiall Sunn's bright *fire, from Heauen
[...]ongst all estates most equally is giuen,
[...]iu'n, not to be ingrost, or bought, nor sold,
[...]r gifts and bribes, or base corrupted gold.
[...]ese things nor poore or rich, can sell nor buy,
[...]e for all liuing creatures, till they dye.
[...] Emperour, a great command doth beare:
[...] yet a Begger's more secure from feare.
King may vse disports (as fits the season)
[...] yet a Begger is more safe from Treason.
Prince (amidst his cares) may merry be,
[...] yet a Begger is from flatt'rers free.
A Duke, is a degree magnificent,
But yet a Begger may haue more content.
A Marquesse is a title of great fame,
A Begger may offend more, with lesse blame.
An Earle, an honourable house may keepe,
But yet a Begger may more soundly sleepe.
A Vizecount may be honour'd and renoun'd,
But yet a Begger's on a surer ground.
A Baron, is a Stile belou'd and Noble,
But yet a Begger is more free from trouble.
A Knight, is good (if his deserts be such)
But yet a Begger may not owe so much.
A good Esquire is worthy of respect,
A Begger's in lesse care, though more neglect.
A G [...]ntleman, may good apparell weare,
A Begger, from the Mercers booke is cleare.
A Seruing-man that's young, in older yeeres
Oft proues an aged Begger, it appeares.
Thus all degrees and states, what e're they are,
With Beggers happinesse cannot compare:
Heau'n is the roofe that Canopies his head,
The Cloudes his Curtaines, and the earth his bed.
The Sunne his fire, the Starre's his candle light,
The Moone his Lampe that guides him in the night.
When scorching Sol makes other mortals sweat,
Each tree doth shade a Begger from his heat:
When nipping Winter makes the Cow to quake,
A Begger will a Barne for harbour take,
When Trees & Steeples are o're-turn'd with winde,
A begger will a hedge for shelter finde:
And though his inconueniences are store,
Yet still he hath a salue for eu'ry sore,
He for new fashions, owes the Taylor nothing,
Nor to the Draper is in debt for cloathing:
[Page 96]A Begger, doth not begger or deceaue
Others, by breaking like a bankerupt Knaue.
He's free from shoulder-clapping Sergeants clawes,
He's out of feare of Enuies canker'd iawes:
He liues in such a safe and happy state,
That he is neither hated, nor doth hate.
None beares him malice, rancour, or despight,
And he dares kill, those that dare him backe-bite.
Credit he neither hath, or giue to none,
All times and seasons, vnto him are one:
He longs not for, or feare a quarter day,
For Rent he neither doth receiue or pay.
Let Nation against Nation warres denounce,
Let Cannons thunder, and let Musket bounce:
Let armies, armies, force 'gainst force oppose,
He nothing feares, nor nothing hath to lose.
Let Towns and Towres with batt'ry be o're-turn'd,
Let women be deflowr'd and houses burn'd:
Let men fight pell-mell, and lose life and lim,
If earth and skies escape, all's one to him.
O happy begg'ry, euery liberall Art
Hath left the thanklesse world, and takes thy part:
And learning, conscience, and simplicity,
Plaine dealing, and true perfect honesty,
Sweet Poetry, and high Astronomy,
Musickes delightfull heau'nly harmony,
All these (with begg'ry) most assuredly
Haue made a friendly league to liue and dye.
For Fortune hath decreed, and holds it fit,
Not to giue one man conscience, wealth, and wit:
For they are portions which to twaine belong,
*And to giue all to one were double wrong,
Therefore although the Goddesse want her eyes,
Yet in her blinded bounty she is wise.
I will not say, but wealth and wisedome are
In one, ten, or in more, but 'tis most rare:
And such men are to be in peace or warres,
Admir'd like blacke Swans, or like blazing Starres.
Two sorts of people fills the whole world full,
The witty Begger, and the wealthy Gull:
A Scholler, stor'd with Arts, with not one crosse,
And Artlesse Nabal stor'd with Indian drosse.
I haue seene learning tatter'd, bare and poore,
Whilst Barbarisme domineerd with store:
I haue knowne knowledge, in but meane regard,
Whi [...]st ignorance hath rob'd it of reward:
And with Coxcombs, I haue heard dispute,
Whilst profound Iudgements must be dumb and mute.
Apollo with aduice did wisely grant,
That Poets should be poore, and liue in want:
And though plaine Beggers they doe not appeare.
Yet their estates doe shew their kin is neere.
* Parnassus Mount is fruitlesse, bare and sterill,
And all the Muses poore in their apparell:
Bare legg'd, and footed, with disheuel'd haire,
Nor Buskins: Shooes, or Head-tires for to weare.
So farre they are from any shew of thrift,
They scarce haue e'r a smock themselues to shift.
* Homer that was the Prince of Poetry,
Was a blind Begger, and in pouerty:
And matchlesse Ouid, (in poore wretched case)
Exil'd from Rome to Pontus in disgrace.
And Mantuan Maro, *for some space in Rome,
Was to Augustus but a Stable-Groome:
His verses shew he had a learned head,
Yet all his profit was but bread and bread.
A Lowse hath six feet, frō whose creeping spra [...]
The first Hexameters, that euer crawl'd:
And euer since, in mem'ry of the same,
A Lowse amongst the Learned is no shame.
Then since the *Mountaines barren Muses bare,
And Prince of Poets had a Beggers share:
Since their blinde Soueraigne was a Begger poore,
How can the Subiects but be voyd of store?
What are their figures, numbers, types and trope [...]
But Emblems of poore shadowes, and vaine hope [...]
Their allegories, similies, allusions,
Threed-bare doe end in beggerly conclusions:
Nor can their Comedies, and Tragedies,
Their Comitragy, Tragicomedies,
No pastorall preterplupastorall,
Their Morall studies, and Historicall,
Their sharp I-ambick, high Heroick Saphique,
And all wherewith their painefull studies trali [...]
All these cannot allow a meanes compleate,
To keepe them out of debt with cloathes & me [...]
And though a Poet haue th'accomplish'd partes
Of Learning, and the Axiomes of all Artes:
What though he study all his braines to dust,
To make his Fame unmortall, and from rust,
Reuoluing day by day, and night by night,
And waste himselfe in giuing others light,
Yet this is all the Guerdon he shall haue,
That begg'ry will attend him to his graue.
He (in his owne Conceite) may haue this blisse,
And sing, My minde to me a Kingdome is.
But 'tis a Kingdome wanting forme or matter,
Or substance, like the Mooneshine in the water.
For as a learned *Poet wrote before,
Grosse Gold runs headlong from them to the Bo [...]
For which this vnauoyded Vow Ile make,
To loue a Begger for a Poets sake.
I that ne'r dranke of Agganippes Well,
That in Parnassus Suburbes scarce doe dwell,
That neuer tasted the Pegasian Spring,
Or Tempe, nor e're heard the Muses sing, *
[Page 97]I [...] (that in Verse) can onely Rime and smatter
[...]uite from the purpose, method, or the matter.
[...]t some for friendship, Ignorance, or pitty,
[...]ill say my lines may passe, indifferent, pritty:
[...]nd for this little, Itching, Versing vaine,
With me the Begger vowes he win remaine.
But if I could but once true Poetry win,
[...]e would sticke close to me, is as my skin.
[...]nd sure if any man beneath the Sky,
[...]nd to his Nurse a Witch, it must be I,
[...]or I remember many yeeres agoe,
Then I would Cry, as Childe on vse to doe:
[...]y Nurse to still me, or to make me cease
[...]ō crying, would say, Hush lambe, pray thee peace.
[...]t I (like many others froward boyes)
Would yawle, & bawle, and make a wawling noyse.
[...]en she (in anger) in her armes would snatch me,
[...]nd bid the Begger, or Bull-begger catch me;
With take him Begger, take him, would she say,
When did the Begger such hard holdfast lay
[...]ou my backe, that yet I neuer could,
[...]r euer shall inforce him leaue his hold.
[...]e reason therefore why I am not Rich,
[...]hinke is, 'cause my Nurse was halfe a witch.
[...]t since it is decreed that I must be
Begger, welcome begg'ry vnto me:
[...] patiently embrace my destin'd Fate,
[...]nd liue as well as some of higher Rate.
[...]t shall my begg'ry no strange Suites deuise,
[...] Monopolies to catch Fleas and Flyes:
[...] the Sole making of all Butchers prickes,
[...] Corkes for bottles, or for euery sixe
[...]elt Seacrab, Flounder, Playce, or Whiting mop;
[...]e, as a Duty vnto me to drop,
[...]r to marke Cheeses, Ile not beg at al [...],
[...]r for the Mouse-trap Geometricall.
[...]r will I impudently beg for Land,
[...]r (with Ambition) beg to haue Command:
[...]meate, or cloathes, or that which few men giue,
[...] neuer beg for money whilst I liue.
[...]t money I esteeme a precious thing,
[...]cause it beares the picture of my King:
[...] to my King I will a seruant be,
[...]d make his pictures seruants vnto me,
[...]e onely Begg'ry euer I'le imbrace,
[...] beg for grace, of him that can giue grace,
[...]ho all things feedes and sils, and ouer-seeth,
[...]ho giues, and casteth no man in the teeth.
[...] much for that, now to my The an [...]e againe.
[...]nat vertues Begg'ry still doth entertaine.
[...]st amongst Beggers, ther's not one in twenty,
[...] hath the Art of memory most plenty:
[...]en those that are possest with riches store,
[...]e'r they were in Beggers stare and poore)
[...]ey quite forget it, and will euer hate
[...] memory of any Beggers state.
For fortune, fauour, or benignity,
May rayse a Begger vnto dignity:
When like a bladder, puft with pride and pelfe,
Hee'l neither know his betters, nor himselfe,
But if a Begger hath bin wealthy euer,
He from his minde puts that remembrance neuer.
And thus if it be rightly vnderstood,
A Beggers Memory is euer good.
Nor he by Gluttony, or swinish surfet,
Doth purchase sickenes with his bodies forfeit.
On bonds, or bills, he borrowes not, or lends,
He neither by extortion gets or spends.
No Vsury he neither takes or giues:
Oppresse he cannot, yet opprest he liues.
Nor when he dyes, he leaues no wrangling heyres
To lose by Law that which was his or theirs.
Men that are blinde in iudgement may see this,
Which of the Rich, or Beggers hath most blisse:
On which most pleasure, Fortune seemes to hurle,
The Lowsie Begger, or the gowty Churle:
The Ragged Begger sitting in the Stocks,
Or the Embrodered Gallant with the Pocks,
A Begger euery way is Adams Son,
For in a Garden Adam first begun:
And so a Begger euen from his birth,
Doth make his Garden the whole entire Earth.
The fields of Corne doth yeeld him straw & bread,
To Feed and Lodge, and Hat to hide his head:
And in the stead of cut-throat slaughtering shābles,
Each hedge allowes him Berryes from the brambles.
The Bullesse, hedg-Peake, Hips, & Hawes, and, Sloes,
Attend his appetite where e'r he goes:
As for his Sallets, better neuer was,
Then acute Sorreli, and sweet three-leau'd Grasse,
And for a Sawce he seldome is at charges,
For euery Crabtree doth affoord him Vergis,
His banket, sometimes is greene Beanes, and Peason,
Nuts, Peares, Plumbes, Appies, as they are in season.
His musicke waytes on him in euery bush,
The Mauis, Balfinch, Blackbird and the Thrush:
The mounting Larke sings in the lofty Sky,
And Robin-redbrest makes him melody.
The Nightingale chants most melodiously,
The chirping Sparrow, and the chattering Pye.
My neighbour Cuckow, alwayes in one tune,
Sings like a Townesman still in May and Iune.
These feather'd Fidlers sing, and leape, and play,
The Begger takes delight, and God doth pay.
Moreouer (to accomplish his Content)
Ther's nothing wants to please his sight or sent.
The Earth embrodered with the various hew
Of Greene, Red, Yellow, Purple, Watched, Blue:
Carnation, Crimson, Damaske, spotles White,
And euery colour that may please the sight.
The odoriferons Mint, the Eglantine,
The Woodbine, Primcrose, and the Cowslip fine,
[Page 98]The Honisuckle, and the Dasfadill,
The fragrant Time, delights the Begger still.
He may plucke Violets in any place
And Rue, but very seldome hearbe of Grace:
Hearts-case he hath and Loue and Idle both,
It in his bones hath a continuall growth.
His Drinke he neuer doth goe farre to looke,
Each Spring's his Host, his Hostesse is each Brooke:
Where he may quasse and to't againe by fits,
And neuer stands in feare to hurt his wits,
For why that Ale, is Grandam Natures brewing,
And very seldome sets her Guests a spewing,
Vnmixt, and vnsophisticated drinke,
That neuer makes men stagger, reele and winke.
Besides, a Begger hath this pleasure more,
He neuer payes, or neuer goes on score:
But let him drinke and quasse both night and day,
Ther's neither Chalke, nor Post, or ought to pay.
But after all this single-soar'd small Ale,
I thinke it best to te [...]l a merry tale:
There was a Rich hard miserable Lord,
That kept a knauish Foole at bed and boord,
(As Great men oft affected haue such Elues,
And lou'd a Foole, as they haue lou'd themselues.)
But Nature to this Foole such vertue gaue,
Two simples in one Compound, Foole and Knaue,
This Noble Lord, ignobly did oppresse
His Tenants, raising Rents to such excesse:
That they their states not able to maintaine,
They turn'd starke Beggers in a yeere or twaine.
Yet though this Lord were too too miserable,
He in his House kept a wels furnish'd Table:
Great store of Beggers dayly at his Gate,
Which he did feed, and much Compassionate.
(For 'tis within the power of mighty men,
To make fiue hundred Beggers, and feed Ten.)
At last, vpon a time the Lord and's Foole,
Walk'd after dinner their hot bloods to coole,
And seeing three or fourescore Beggers stand
To seeke reliefe from his hard-clutched hand,
The Nobleman thus spake his Foole vnto,
Quoth he, what shall I with these Beggers doe?
Since (quoth the Foole) you for my Iudgement call,
I thinke it best we straightwayes hang them all.
That were great pitty, then the Lord reply'd,
For them and me our Sauiour equall dy'd to
Th' are Christians (although Beggers) therefore yet
Hanging's vncharitable, and vnfit.
Tush (said the Foose) they are but beggers tho,
And thou canst spare them, therefore let them goe:
If thou wilt doe, as thou hast done before,
Then canst in one yeere make as many more.
And he that can picke nothing from this tale,
Then set him with the Bergger drinke small Ale.
Thus is a Begger a strange kinde of creature,
And begg'ry is an Art that liues by Nature:
For he neglect all Trades, all Occupations,
All functions, Mysteries, Artes, and Corporations,
Hee's his owne Law, and doth euen what he sist,
And is a perfit right Gimnosophist.
A Philosophicall Pythagoras,
That without care his life away doth passe.
*A Lawyer must for what he gets take paines,
And study night and day, and toyle his braines,
With diligence to sift out Right from wrong,
Writes, trauels pleads, with hands, & feet & tong;
And for to end Debate, doth oft debate
With Rhetoricke, and Logicke Intricate:
And after all his trauell and his toyle,
If that part which he pleads for get the soyle,
The Clyent blames the Lawyer, and the Lawes,
And neuer mindes the badnes of his Cause.
Tis better with a Begger that is dumbe,
Whose tongue-lesse mouth doth onely vtter mam:
In study, and in care, no time he spends,
*And hath his businesse at his fingers ends.
And with dumbe Rhetoricke, & with Logick mute,
Liues and gaines more, then many that Dispute.
*If case a Begger be old, weake or ill,
It makes his gaines, and commings in more still;
When Beggers that are strong, are paid with mocks,
Or threatned with the Cage, the Whip, or Stocks.
Hee's better borne then any Prince or Peere,
In's Mothers wombe three quarters of a yeere:
*And when his birth hath made her belly slacke,
Shee foure or fiue yeeres, beares him at her backe.
He liues as if it were grim Saturnes Raigne,
Or as the golden age were come againe.
*Moreouer many vertues doe attend
On Beggers, and on them doe they depend:
*Humility's a Vertue, and they are
In signe of Humblenesse, continuall bare:
And Patience is a vertue of great worth.
Which any begger much expresseth forth,
I saw a Begger Rayl'd at, yet stood mute,
Before a Beadle, of but base repute.
For Fortitude a Begger doth excell,
There's nothing can his valiant courage quell:
Nor heate or cold, thirst, hunger, Famines rage,
He dares out-dare Stocks, whipping-posts, or Cage.
Hee's of the greatest Temperance vnder heauen,
And (for the most part) feeds on what is giuen.
He waytes vpon a Lady, of high price,
*Whose birth-place was coelestiall Paradice.
One of the Graces, a most heauely Dame,
And Charity's her all-admired Name;
[Page 99]Her hand's ne'r shut, her glory is in giuing,
On her the Begger waytes, and gets his liuing,
His State's more *ancient then a Gentleman,
He from the Elder brother (Cain) began:
Of Runagates and vagabonds he was
The first that wandring o're the earth did passe.
But what's a Vagabond and a Runagate?
[...]ie Anagramatiz'd I will relate:
RVNAGATE,
Anagram,
A GRAVNTE.
VAGABONDE,
Anagram.
GAVE A BOND.
And many well-borne Gallants, mad and fond,
Haue with a Graunt so often Gaue a Bond,
And wrap'd their states so in a Parchment skin,
They Vagabonds and Runagates haue bin.
*A Begger's nob'ly borne. all men will yeeld,
His getting and his birth b'ing in the field:
And all the world knowes 'tis no idle fable,
To say and sweare the field is *honourable.
A Begger is most courteous when he begges,
And hath an excellent skill in making legges,
But if he could make Armes but halfe so well,
For Herauldry his cunning would excell.
A Begger in great safety doth remaine,
He's out of danger to be rob'd or slaine:
In feare and perill he is neuer put,
And (for his wealth) no theife his throat will cut.
He's farre more bountifull then is a Lord.
A world of hangers on at bed and boord:
Which he doth lodge, and daily cloath and feed
Them and their issue, that encrease and breed;
For 'tis disparagement, and open wrong,
To say a Begger's not a thousand strong:
Yet haue I seene a Begger with his Many,
Come at a Play-house, all in for one penny:
And though of creatures Lice are almost least,
Yet is a Lowse a very valiant beast.
But did not strength vnto her courage want,
She would kill Lyon, Beare, or Elephant.
What is it that she can, but she dares do?
She'le combate with a King, and stand to't too:
She's not a starter like the dust-bred-Flea,
She's a great traueller by land and sea,
And dares take any Lady by the Rea.
She neuer from a battell yet did flye.
For with a Souldier she will liue and dye.
And sure (I thinke) I said not much amis,
To say a Lowse her selfe a Souldier is.
An Hoast of Lice did to submission bring
Hard-hearted ' [...] haraob the Egyptian King,
But when these cruell creatures doe want meate,
Mans flesh and blood like Canibals they eate.
They are vnto the Begger, Natures gifts,
*Who very seldome puts them to their shifts,
*These are his Guard, which will not him forsake,
Till Death, a coarse doth of his carkasse make.
A Begger liues here in this vale of sorrow,
And trauels here to day, and there to morrow.
The next day being neither here, nor there:
But almost no where, and yet euery where.
He neuer labours, yet he doth expresse
*Himselfe an enemie to Idlenesse.
In Court, Campe, City, Countrey, in the Ocean,
A Begger is a right perpetuall motion,
*His great deuotion is in generall,
He either prayes for all, or preyes on all.
*And it is vniuersally profest,
From South to North, from East vnto the West.
On his owne merits he will not relie;
*By other mens good works he'le liue and die.
That begg'ry is nat'rall all men know,
*Our naked comming to the world doth show;
Not worth a simple rotten ragge, or clout,
Our silly carkasses to wrap about.
*That its will is, and hath perpetuall bin,
All goes as naked out, as they came in,
We leaue our cloathes, which were our couers here,
For Beggers that come after vs to weare.
*Thus all the world in generall Beggers are,
And all alike come in, and goe out bare.
And whoso liues here in the best degree,
*Must (euery day) a daily Begger bee:
And when his life hath run vnto his date,
He dies a Begger or a Reprobate.
(Good Reader, pray misconster not this case,
I meane no profanation in this place)
Then since these vertues waite on beggery,
As milde Humility, and Charity,
And Temp'rance, Honour, Health, Frugality,
With Patience, Fortitude, and Courtesie,
Security, Vniuersality,
Necessity and Parpetu [...]ie,
And since heau'n sends the Subiect and the Prince
All Beggers hither, and no better hence,
Since begg'ry is our portion and our lot,
Our Patrimony, birth-right, and what not?
[Page 100]Let vs pursue our function, let vs do
That (which by nature) we were borne vnto.
And whil'st my Muse a little doth repose,
I'le Character a Begger out in prose.

NOw it followes, that I shew some of their formes, carriage, manners, and beha­uiour, their seuerall Garbs, tones, and salu­tations, that they accost their Clyents or Be­nefactors withall, for they can wisely, and dis­creetely suite their Phrase and language, to be correspondent to their owne shape, and sutable to whomsoeuer they begge of, as for example, suppose a Begger be in the shape or forme of a maundering, or wandering Soul­dier, with one arme, legge, or eye, or some such maime; then imagine that there passeth by him some Lord, Knight, or scarce a Gen­tleman, it makes no matter which, then his Honour, or his Worship shall be affronted in this manner.

Braue man of Honour, cast a fauorable looke vpon the wounded estate of a distressed Gentleman, that hath borne Armes for his Countrey in the hottest broyles of the Nether­lands, with the losse of his members; Cleueland hath felt my strength; I haue bickered with the French, at Brest and Deepe; I haue past the Straights, the dangerous Gulph: the Groyne can speake my seruice (Right Honourable) with no lesse then two dangerous hurts hardly brought off from Bummill Leaguer, which I would vnwillingly discouer to your manlines, whose beliefe shall be therein as much auaila­ble as eye-sight. Fortune hath onely left me a tongue to bemone my losses, and one eye to be a witnesse of your noble bounty; I would be loth to weary your Lordship with the rela­tions of my trauels, to whom the storie of these warres are as familiar as to my selfe, your worthy liberalitie is the spurre to valour, and the safeguard of his Countrey, and in your honourable memorie, my tongue shall supply the defects of my limbes, and proclaime your merits through the seuenteene Prouinces, whither your bounty shall beare this withered body, to interre it with the blood which I left there as a pledge of my returne.

This is the maritall or decayed military kind of begging; which if he speede, then he can fit himselfe with a prayer accordingly, for the prosperitie of his liber all benefactor, as thus:

Peace be to thy loynes (Right Honourable) and plenty at thy boord, oppression in the Countrey, and extortion in the Citie; embro­der thy carkasse, and keepe thy Concubite constant, that Taylers may sue to thee for worke, more then for payment, and Seriear [...] may stand and gaze at thy faire progresse by the Compters, whil'st thy Coach-mares shal whurry thee farre from Attachments.

Then (after ascrub or ashrug) you must re­ceiue he meetes with a Lawyer, and fitting his ph [...] to his language, hee assaults him thus, and ioy [...]e issue.

Humbly sheweth to your good Worship, your poore suppliant hauing aduanced his b [...] in the late warres of Sweden, Copenhag, and Stocke-Holland; after Replications in particu­lar, and Reioynders drawne, with bloody pes [...] and dreadfull characters, your petition [...] ioynd issue in that fearefull day of hearing, to the grand Castle of Smolesco, where hee ca [...] off with the losse of his inheritance, hauing the euidence of his limbes violently rent from him, to make an open passage to the bene [...] ­lent charitie of such pious persons as is your Worship, for you are the true Souldiers [...] the Countrey, whose warres concerne the do­mestique peace of our Nation, as such as my­selfe doth the forreine. My breeding was Ge [...] ­tle, Sir, and my birth English, a yonger bro­ther, and driuen to my shifts, to auoyde the foule accidents of home-bred miseries; I mea­sured forreine paces, and was deliuered abroad of my breeding at home, in which estate the hand of your bounty must support me, or [...] calamity will crawle ouer me, which hath no Surgeon but the gallowes, to which I hope the Law will not deliuer me, seeing it tame so faire a face as the reuerend aspect of your master-ships countenance.

By this time you must suppose that his bounty be­ing awak'd, he giues him somewhat; when with our [Page 101] respondent prayer hee thus takes his bene vale.

May the Iermes be euerlasting to thee, thou man of tongue, and may contentions grow and multiply, may Actions beget Actions, and Cases engender Cases as thicke as hops, may euery day of the yeere be a Shrouetues­day; let Proclamations forbid fighting, to en­crease actions of battry, that thy Cassocke may be three pilde, and the welts of thy Gowne may not grow threed-bare.

Perhaps he meetes with same Countrey Farmer, or some honest Russet home spu. plaine dealing, [...] sug­ [...]er whom he assaults with a valley of his [...] bra­ [...]does in manner and forme following.

You shall doe well to take notice (Coun­trey-man and friend) that I am a Souldier and a Gentleman, who hauing bin made For­tunes Tennis-ball, was lately cast vpon these coasts of my Countrey, by the merciles cruel­ty of the raging tempestuous seas, where I haue beene in that distresse, that the whole Christian world durst not so much as looke on: mine Armes haue beene feared by all the enemies that euer beheld them aduanc'd, and my command hath beene dreadfull through Europe, Asia, Africa and America, from the Sunnes Easterne rising to his Westerne decli­nation. I was the first man that entred (de­spight the mouth of the Cannon) into the fa­mous City of Pertrega a City fiue times greater then Constantinople, where the great Turke then kept his Seraglio, Basha Caphy, Basha Inda, and Mustapha Despot of Seruta, being my pri­soners, whose ransomes yeelded my sword three millions of Hungarian Duckets; with which returning, thinking to make thee and the rest of my Nation rich, the ship which transported me (being ouer-laden) tooke such a leake, not a mortall eye being able to see one penny of that vncountable treasure, my selfe (as you see preserued) a miserable spectacle of vnfortunate chance, for getting astride vpon a demyculuering of braste, I was weather­beaten three leagues on shore, as you see, an ominous map of man-quelling calamity, to the reliefe whereof, my fellow and friend, (for so my now pouertie makes mee vouchsafe to call thee) I must intreat thy manhood, by of­fring a parcell of thy substance; make no de­layes, Sir, for I would bee loth to exercise my valour on thee, and make thee the first Christian that should feele the impregnable strength and valour of my victorious arme, which hath done to death to many Turkes, Pa­gans and Infidels, as cannot be truely num­bred.

After all this super sl [...]us sustian, the poore man [...] drawes and giues him some small m [...]te, more for feare, cr [...]ing, then either for loue or cha­rity. His fury being abated, he takes his leaue thus:

Faire be thy Haruest, and foule thy Win­ter, that plenty may fill they Barnes, and feare of scarcity raise thy price, may thy Land-lord liue vnmarryed that thy fine may not be raisde, to buy thy new Land-lady a French petri­coate; or a new Blockt Beauer, nor thy rents raisde, to keepe her tire in fashion.

INuention many thousand wayes could go,
To shew their variations to and fro:
For as vpon the some of man attends,
The world the flesh, the deuil, (where wicked friēds)
So likewise hath a Begger other three,
With whom his humour neuer could agree.
*A lustice to the world he doth compare,
And for his flesh, a Beadle is a mare:
But he, that he of all accounts most euill,
He thinks a Constable to be the Deuill.
And 'tis as easie for him as to drinke,
To blind the world, and make a *lustice winke:
The Beadle (for the flesh) 'tis little paine,
Which smart he can recouer soone againe.
But yet the Deuils (the Consta [...]) a spirit,
From hole to hole that hunts him like a ferrit,
*Both day and night he haunts him as a ghost,
And of all furies he torments him most.
All's one for that, though to me things fall out ill,
A Beggar seldome rides vp Holbenn hill:
Nor is he taken with a th [...] trap,
And made dispute with Doctor Stories *cap.
A common th [...]efe, for euery great he gaines,
His life doth [...]ture, besides all his paines:
For euery thing he cares, or drinkes, I weares,
To lose his cares, or gaine a rope he feares. *
[Page 102]But for a Begger, be it hee or shee,
They are from all these choaking dangers free.
And though (for sinne) when mankind first began,
A curse was laid on all the race of man,
That of his labours he should liue and eate,
And get his bread by trauell and by sweate;
But it that any from this curse be free,
A Begger must he be, and none but he.
For euery foole most certainely doth know,
A Begger doth not dig, delue, plow, or sow:
He neither harrowes, plants, lops, fells, nor rakes,
Nor any way he paines, or labour takes.
Let swine be meazeld, let sheepe die and rot,
Let moraine kill the cattell, he cares not:
He will not worke and sweat, and yet hee'l feed,
And each mans labour must supply his need.
Thus without paines or care, his life hee'l spend,
And liues vntill he dies, and ther's an end.
But I this reckning of beggry make,
That it much better is to giue then take:
Yet if my substance will not serue to giue,
Ile (of my betters) take, with thankes, and liue.
FINIS.

TO THE MIGHTIE MONARCH OF MONTZAGO, THE MODELL OF MAGNANIMITY, the map of man-darring Monster-quellers, the thrice three times trebble triple re­nowned Alphebo, ornamented honorable Knight of Standsalio, Treldedo, Ma­roua, Fregero, Andalowsia, and the skie-scaling mountaine of Muffetto: Illu­strious Pheander, victorious and valorous Champion to Don Phoebus, great Duke of Delphos, and the Oracle of Apollo; Marquesse of Muzetta, and the lake Asse-phaltites: Earle of Vtopia; Lord and Dominator of the Promontory of Poli­pratemost: The vnconquer'd all conquering Mayden Knight, by reuelation, by creation, by procreation, and contentation: the vnmatched Phoenix, and foure­fold Commander of the Inchanted Ilands, by nomination, by Banner, by warlike atchieuements, by natiuity, by descent and processe, matchlesse and vnparalleld Sir Thomas Parsons, Knight of the Sunne, great cousin Vermin to the seldome seene Queene of Fayries, and hopefull heire apparant to her inuisible Kingdome.

VNmatchable Cheualiere, I am bold to commit a poore Goose to your impregnable prote­ction and patronage, I knon there will be as much to doe in the keeping of her, and with a much danger, as was the conquest of the Golden Fleece, the Apples of the Hesperides, or the sauing of Andromeda by Perseus: and but that your valiant atchieuements are knowne [...] approued, I would neuer haue put my Goose to your inuincible Guard: the enemies that [...] assault you, or attempt to take her from you, are many, whom in dutious courtesie I will describe vnto y [...]: First, the Powlters will assaile you with a terrible battry of rotten Eg-shot, to surrender the innocent Goose, [Page 103] that they may murder, imbowell, plu [...]ke, and prostitute her to sale of who giues most. See [...], the Vthal­ [...] will come vpon you with a fresh alarum for her feathers, to stuffe the empty paunches of then B Isters, Pillowes, and hungry Bed-tikes. Thirdly, the Cookes in squaarans, a [...]i'd with Dripping pannes and s [...]s, instead of Speares, before they will lose their F [...]s, (and the [...] king of their fingers to b [...]ote) will fight heoly for the Goose till all smoke againe. Fourthly, the Apothecaries (ra [...]her then they will want the sweetnesse of the pinguidity or fe [...]und [...]ous fat of the Gooses axung [...]a (vulg [...] called g [...] [...] they will so pelt [...] [...] with pil [...]s, instead of pellets, that they will make all stinke againe. Fiftly, the kit [...]a-ma [...]de will throw s [...]alding [...]ater at you, but she will haue one of her wings to sweepe downe C [...]bwebs, and dcspossesse Spiders of the ha­bitations they haue built out of their owne bowels. Sixtly, the [...]let [...]hers, and Archers, s [...]eare they will [...]inke your skinne full of [...]t-holes, but they will haue [...]er [...] s, to make them [...] [...] dead, then the Goose could liuing. Seuenthly, the Poets for her Quils, will call another penny [...]l [...]sse, thread [...] Par­liament, and ordaine Satiricall Statutes, and Tr [...]g [...]all Acts against you, and [...] their scatt [...]red ima­ginations they will s [...]ale the skies as high as sullen Saturnes altitude, and rake into the [...] west p [...]sund [...]y of Barrathrum, forraging thorow the earth, ayre, and seas; but they will stigmatize, canterize, and Epi­gramatize, Anagramatize you, till you make a surrender. Eig [...]tly, the Lawyers well sirke and fir [...]t you tossing you betwixt hard fortune and ill lucke, that you will be almost mad, or bee in great danger to have very little [...] lest. Ninthly, the scriu [...]ners, publike N [...]tari [...]s, or notorieus publi [...]ans, will not onely ioyne with the Lawyers, and the Poets against you: but they will neuer procure you any money when you neede, without excessiue brokage, great credit, or good security. Tenthly, Shop-keepers (if you hold the Gooses Quils from them) haue sworne, that they will euer keepe you out of their bookes. And lastly, schoole-boyes will throw whole voleyes of stones at you, where-euer they see you, if you alow them not Pens, though it be but to scrible or make ewes letters.

Thus hauing layd open to your Herculean view, the labours and dangers that you are like to suffer in protecting the Goose Now I thinke it fit (vnder correction) to cloze vp my Dedication with some duti­full counsell, that though your enemies are mightie and many, and that they doe preuaile against you, and with their multitude take from you both the flesh and feathers of the Goose, (which indeed belongs not to you, nor doe I dedicate them to you) yet here is your true honour, and that which makes all me admire you, that her better part, her genious, her intellectuall vnderstanding, her capacity, and reuerend gra­uity, her wisedome, and her very spirit; neither man, Deuill, or Dragon, is able to bereaue you of, as long as you haue a sword to defend it. I haue dedicated a Booke of a Begger at this time to Archy, but most noble Sir, onely to you my Goose, so leauing you: Not doubting of your acceptance, and pro­tection: I wish you such increase of honour as is sutable to your Heroicke enicau [...]urs and vnimitable wisedome.

He that truely neither wonders or admires at your worthinesse. IOHN TAYLOR.

TAYLORS GOOSE DESCRIBING THE VVILDE GOOSE, THE Tame Goose, the Taylors Goose, the VVinchester Goose, the Clack Goose, the Soleand Goose, the Huniburne Goose, Goose vpon Goose, the true nature and profit of all Geese, the honourable victories of the Gray­Goose-wing, the worthinesse of the Pen, the Description of Goosetoft, and Goose Fayre, with the valour of the Gander.

VVHen restlesse Phoebus seem'd himselfe to rest
His flaming Carr, descending to the West,
And Hesperus obscur'd her twinkling light:
Then in a sable mantle (Madame night)
Tooke of the world the sole command, and keepe
Charming the eyes of mortals found a sleepe:
She sent dull Morpheus forth, and Somnus both,
(The Leaden Potentates of Sleepe and Sloth)
Who vnto euery one good rest imparts
Saue Louers, guilty mindes, and carefull hearts.
The stealing houres, creep'd on with sleeping pace,
When masqued Midnight shew'd her Ebon face;
When Hagges, and Furies, Witches, Fairies, Elues,
Ghosts, Sprites, & Coblins doe disport themselues:
When send imaginarie dreames doe raigne
In forme lesse formes, in mans molested braine:
On such a time, I sleeping in my bed,
An vnaccustom'd dreame came in any head,
Me thought as neere vnto a Riuers side,
Within a pleasant Groue I did abide,
That all the feathered birds that swims or flies,
Or liues betwixt the breeding earth and skies,
One at the least of euery seuerall sort,
Did for their recreation there resort.
There was such a variety of notes,
Such warbling & such whistling frō their throates:
The Base, the Tenor, Trebble, and the Meane,
All acting various Actions in one Sceane:
The sober Goose (not thinking ought amisse)
Amongst the rest did (harthly) keake and hisse:
At which the Peacocke, and the pyde-coate lay;
Said, rake the feolish gaggling Goose away.
The Goose (though angry) with a modest looke,
Seem'd as she gently this affront would brooke,
When all the Fowles in generall out did breake,
Commanding her she should not dare to speake,
Away the meianc holly Goose return'd,
And in a banke of Reede she sate and mourn'd,
Complaining 'gainst the hatefull multitude,
And iustly taxing with Ingratitude
The Race of all mortality; and then
Is none (quoth she) turniuing amongst men,
That will my true worth search and vnderstand,
And in my quarrell take a Pen in hand,
And in a stately high Heroicke stile,
My Predecessours noble Acts compile,
From age to age descending vnto me,
That my succeeding Issue all may see
The admirable deedes that I haue done,
And runne that worthie course that I haue runne.
O impious age, when there is no defence
For Vertue, and for hated Innocence:
When Flatt'rers, Fooles, and Fiddlers are rewarded,
When I must liue inpittied, vnregarded!
Me thought these last words ended with a keake
Of such force, as if her heart would breake.
At which I starting, wak'ned from my dreame,
And made the Goores wrong, my Muses theame:
I' arose, put on my cloathes, sate downe, and than
I tooke my Pen in hand, and thus began.
[...] From darke obliuious den I here let loose
Th' imprison'd honour of the famous Goose:
In her creation and originall,
And after in the Law Leuiticall,
[Page 105]And at all times before and since the Flood,
Goose hath iustly gain'd the name of good.
[...]o value her with any other Bird,
Comparisons are weake and meere absurd:
First, for her flesh, she is mans daily fare:
She's good, she's cheape, she's plenty, and she's rare:
Sake her, or rost her, vse her as you will,
And Cooke, her as she should be, she's good still:
But as great summes are made with little driblets,
So put the Hares head 'gainst the Gooses giblets;
And men may piece a dinner vp (perhaps)
Which otherwise would rise with hungry chaps:
For the old Prouerbe, I must here apply,
Good meate men may picke from a Gooses eye.
She is good fresh, but better two dayes salted,
For then she'le try if Ale or Beere be Malted;
Her greace is excellent ( prohatumest)
For such as numnesse in their ioynts molest:
For the Sciatica, the Crampe, or Gowte
It either cures or eases, out of doubt.
Mix'd with Stauesacre, and Argentum vine,
[...] will not leaue a man a Lowse aliue.
Her lungs and liuer into pouder dride,
And fasting in an Asses milke applide,
As an experienc'd cordiall for the Spleene,
As oftentimes it hath approued beene.
Her braines, with Salt and Pepper, if you blend
And eate, they will the vnderstanding mend.
Her Gall, if one be but with drinke opprest,
Or meat, or fruit, and cannot well digest:
But swallow't downe, and take the 'tother cup,
And presently 'twill fetch the rest all vp.
And thus a Goose, for med'cine and for food,
[...] haue Anatomiz'd exceeding good.
As for her qualities, whil'st she doth liue,
She doth example and instinction giue:
Her modesty, and affabilitie,
Shewes she's descended from Gentilitie,
For if they be a hundred in a troope,
To a Barne doore in courtesie thei'l stoope.
How neate & comely they themselues will pick,
That no one feather out of order stick:
How grauely they from place to place will waggle,
And how (like Gossips) freely they will gaggle,
That sure I thinke, the fashion of her prate,
Our wiues at Gossipings doe imitate.
In * pli [...]ie and in Gesner I doe finde,
That Geese are of strange sundry sorts and kinde.
In Scotland there are Geese which grow on Trees,
(Which much from humane reason disagrees)
Bred by the Ayre and Sunnes all-quickning fire,
That ne'r was Egge, nor e'r had Dam or Sire.
Then ther's a Soleand Goose, which they so call,
Because the female hath but one in all. *
Sole is as much to say, as be alone,
*And neuer Soleand Goose did hatch but o [...]e:
Or else the name of them may well proceede
From the Dams foot-sole, whence they all do breede,
Which in her Claw she holds vntill it hatch,
The Gander fetches food, the Goose doth watch.

The Winchester Goose.

THen ther's a Goose that breeds at Winchester,
And et all Geese, my mind is least to her:
For three or foure weekes after she is rost.
She keepes her heat more hotter then a tost.
She's seldome got or hatch'd with honesty,
From Fornication and Adultery,
From reaking Lust, foule Incest, beastly Rape,
She hath her birth, her breeding, and her shape.
Besides Whoremongers, Panders, Bawds & Pimpes,
Whores, Harlets, Curtezans, and such base Impes,
Luxurious, letcherous Goates, that hunt in Flockes,
To catch the Glangore, Grinkums, or the Pockes.
Thus is she got with pleasure, bred with paine,
And scarce ere comes where honest men remaine.
This Goose is worst of all, yet is most deare,
And may be had (or heard of) any where.
A Pander is the Cater to the Feast,
A Bawde the Kitchin Clerke, to see her drest.
A Whore the Cooke, that in a pockey heate,
Can dresse a dish fit for the Deuill to eate.
The hot whore-hunter for the Goose doth serue,
The whil'st the Surgeon, and Physician carue.
The Apothecary giues attendance still,
For why the sauce lyes onely in his Bill.
There hath a Turkey at Newmarket bin,
Which to this Goose was somewhat neere a kin:
And some report, that both these Fowles haue seene,
Their like, that's but a payre of sheeres betweene.
And one of them (to set them onely forth)
Costs more the dressing then they both are worth.
This Goose is no way to be tolerated,
Bat of good men to be despisde and hated,
For one of these, if it be let alone,
Will eate the owner to the very bone.
Moreouer, it from Nature is contrary,
And from all other creatures doth vary:
For of all breeding things that I could heare,
The Males doe still beger, and Females beare
But this hath euer a Dam masculine
Eagendred by a Father Feminine.
[Page 106]Quite kim kam, wiw waw, differing from all other,
The Sir's a Female, and a Male the Mother.
But cease, my Muse, soyle not thy purer straine,
With such contagious mud, rouze, rouze againe,
From this polluted puddle, and once more,
Take the same Theame in hand thou hadst before.

The Taylors Goose.

BVt yet a little mirth doth make me stay:
A Taylors Goose comes wadling in my way,
A thing I cannot giue the Epithite
Of Male or Female, or Hermaphrodite.
Of Vulcans brood it is, whose Dam and Sire,
Was windy bellowse, smoake, and flaming Fire,
By Nature it should much delight to lye,
For in a Forge it had Natiuity,
Yet it with lying doth no hurt commit,
Stealing is more addicted vnto it;
And yet to Steele it is so neere a kin,
That to be true, it doth opinion win.
Tis mittlo to the hard backe, I am sure,
And 'tis a dish will ten mens liues endure.
Be it of age a hundred winters long,
It is as tender as 'twas when 'twas young.
A Cooke from it can get but slender fees,
It hath no Gibblets, like to other Geese.
It neither breeds nor feedes, yet doth this good,
It doth helpe others to get cloathes and food.
And of all Geese shee's tamest, shee's not roame,
This Goose a man may alwayes haue at home.
'Tis dyet onely for an Estrich tooth,
It cannot cog, yet very much doth smooth.
It puts downe all the Fowles that ere man saw,
'Tis often rosted, yet 'tis euer raw,
It is a Bird that euery slut may dresse,
It knowes no warres, yet euery day doth presse.
And to conclude, it is a messe of meate,
Which whoso can digest it, let him eate.

The prayse of the Gray Goose wing.

THe Winchester and Taylors Goose I see,
Are both too heauy, and too hot for me:
I will returne the honour to Emblaze,
Of the Gray Goose that on the greene doth graze.
To speake of wandring Wild-goose in this place,
Were (like a Goose) to run the Wild-goose chase:
The Egyptians did obserue their wonted guise,
How in the Skie they flew triangle-wise,
Which with one Corner forward, is their drift,
Thus figured to cut the Ayre more swift.
For me the wilde-Goose is too high a game.
My minde is onely to the Goose that's tame,
I in her Fleshes prayse haue wrote before,
But yet her Feathers doe deserue much more.
They are of farre more estimate and price
Then th'Estrich, or the bird of Paradise,
The Rauen, the Crow, the Daw in mourning digit [...]
The prating Pye attyr'd in blacke and white,
The Buzzard, Redshanke, Kite, Owle, Gull, & Rook [...],
The fabled Phoenix that breedes where (goe looke [...]
The Pheasant, Partridge, Turtle, Plouer, Pidgeon,
The Woodcock, Woodquist, Woodpecker, & Wi [...]
The Iay, the Snipe, the Teale, the Cock, the Hen, sg [...]
The Chogh, the Larke, the Lapwing, & the Wra [...]
The Falkon, the Gerfalkon, Hobby, Marlin,
The Sparrowhauke, the Goshauke, Tassell, Starlin,
The Haggard, Keistrell, Lanneret, Cormorant,
The Caperkelly, and the Termagant,
The Bunting, Heathcocke, Crane, and Pellican,
The Turkey, Mallard, Ducke the Storke, the Swan,
The Pewet, Parrot, and the Popinjay,
The Eagle, and the Cassawaraway,
The Sheldrake, Bittour, Black bird, Nightingale,
The Cuckow that is alwayes in one tale,
The Sparrow of the hedge, or of the house,
The Ringdoue, Redbrest, and the Tittimouse,
The Bulunch, Goldfinch, Ringtaile, Wagtaile, and
The Hearne that liues by water and by land:
The Swallow, Martin, Lennet, and the Thrush,
The Mauis that sings sweetly in the bush;
The Morecoote, the Kingfisher, and the Quaile;
The Peacock, with his proud vaine-glorious taile
These sorts of Birds that I haue nam'd before,
If they were thrice redoubled three times more,
And let men value them but as they are,
They cannot with the Goose (for worth) compeare
Many of these doe feed on Carrion still,
And still are Carrion, euer being ill,
Neither in flesh or feathers they affoord
To doe man seruice at his bed or boord.
And some of them yeeld Plumes, and ornaments
For Ladies, and for Knightly Tournaments:
But let these toyes be weigh'd but iust and right,
And thei'le be found as vaine as they are light.
Others there are, as Parrots, Stares, Pyes, Dawes,
Are mightily accounted of, because
They can speak perfect none-sence, prate & ch [...]
Feeding the eare: these fowles makes fooles these [...]
Then there are others great, and small in size,
But great all for the greatnesse of their price,
Most pleasantly their flesh men doe denoure,
The sawce lyes in the reckoning, sharpe and sowre
Some are to sing continually in Cages,
And get but bread and water for their wages.
And others, with great paines men doe procure
With cost of Manning, Diet, Hood, Bels, Lure;
[Page 107] [...] pleasure's little, and the gaine is small,
Goose for profit doth surprise them all.
Then with her flesh mans, stomack she hath sed,
[...] giues him ease and comfort in his bed;
He yeelds no whim-whams wauering on his crest,
[...] the relieues him with repose and rest.
[...]d though the world be hard, she layes him soft,
[...]e beares the burthen, and he lyes aloft:
[...]t him be drunke, or weary, sicke or same,
[...]e's semper idem, alwayes one the same.
[...]us to supply our wants, and serue our needes,
[...]ood meate and lodging from a Goose procedes.
[...]sides she loues not farre abroad to gad,
[...]t at all times she's easie to be had;
[...] if (to satisfie mans hungry gut)
[...]e wayted still that he her throat should cut.
[...]n neede not be at charge for Hawkes and Dogs,
[...]nd ride, and run o're hedge, ditch, mines, & bogs:
[...]e's quickly caught, and drest well, eates as pleasant
[...] (far fetch'd deere bought) Partridge or a Pheasāt.
Throughout the world the Trumpe of Fame loud rings,
[...]emblaze the glory of the Gooses wings:
The Romane Eagle ne'r had spred so farre,
[...]ut that the gray Goose was the Conquerer.
[...]ostris King of Egypt with her feather,
[...]ain'd stormes and showres of Arrowes, like foule weather,
[...]nd ouercame the Iewes, th' Assirians,
[...]h' Arabians, Scithians, Germanes, Thracians.
The Huns, the Gothes, the Vandals, and the Gals,
With Arrows made great Rome their seu'rall thrals:
The Philistines were mighty Bow-men all,
With which they got the conquest of King Saull.
[...]rus with thousands of his Persians
With Shafts were slaine by the Messagetans,
[...]urkes, Tartars, Troyans, and the Parthians,
[...]anes, Saxons, Sweuians, and Polonians;
[...]ea all the Nations the whole world around,
The gray-Goose-wing hath honour'd and renound.
But why should I roame farre and wide aloofe,
When our own Kingdome yeelds sufficient proofe?
But search the Chronicles, it is most plai [...]e,
That the Goose-wing braue conquests did obtaine.
Remember valiant Edwards name (the third)
How with the wing of this deseruing Bird,
When to small purpose seru'd his Shield or Lance:
At Cresste he ore-top'd the pow'r of France.
And after that, remember but agen
That Thunder-bolt of warre, that Mars of men,
The black Prince Edward, his victorious sonne,
How he at P [...]ctiers a braue battaile wonne,
Where the French King and many Peeres wer tane,
Their Nobles, and their Gentles most part slaine,
And thirty thousand of their Commons more,
Lay in the field all weltring in their gore.
Henry the fift (that memorable King)
All France did vnto his subiection bring,
When forty thousand of the French men lay
At Agincount, slaine in that bloody fray.
And though true valour did that conquest win.
But for the Gooses wing it had not bin.
In these things, and much more then I can say,
The Gooses feather bore the prize away.
If I should write all in particular,
What this rare feather hath atchieu'd in war,
Into a sea of matter I should runne,
And so begin a worke will ne'r be done.
And thus from time to time it hath appear'd,
How the gray Goose hath brauely domineer'd:
With swiftly cutting through the empty skie,
Triumphantly transporting victorie
From land to land, offending and defending
The Conquest on the Arrowes still depending.
Our English Yeomen, in the dayes of old,
Their names and fames haue worthily [...]told
Witnesse that Leath, that stout admired three,
Braue Adam Bell, Clim Clough, Will Clowdeslee.
I could capitulate, and write vpon
Our English Robin Hood, and little Iohn,
How with this feather they haue wonne renowne,
That euermore their memories shall crowne.
And e'r the Deuill these damned Gunnes deuis'd,
Or hellish powder here was exercis'd,
With the Goose-wing we did more honour get,
More nobly gain'd, then Gunnes could euer yet.
And how hath Vice our worthy Land infected,
*Since Archery hath beene too much neglected?
The time that men in shooting spent before,
Is now (perhaps) peru [...]rted to a Whore,
Or bowling, swearing, drinke, or damned Dice,
Is now most Gentleman-like exercise.
But for these few that in those dayes remaine,
Who are addicted to this shooting veine,
Let men but note their worthy disposition,
And we shall see they are of best condition,
Free honest spirits, such as men may trust,
In all their actions, constant, true, and iust.
It is a thing I haue obserued long,
An Archers mind is cleare from doing *wrong:
It is a * note worthy respect, and marke,
An Archer is no base defamed Sharke,
Not giuen to pride, to couetousnesse, or
To swearing, which all good men doe abhorre,
Nor doth he exercise, or take delight,
To cheate, to cogge, to lye, and to backe-bite,
But with most louing friendly conuersation,
He practiseth this manly recreation.
There was a Statute in th'eight Henries raigne,
Which Statute yet doth in full force remaine,
[Page 108]And as it stands in force, so doth my Muse
With that it were obseru'd, and kept in vse.
Within these few yeeres (I to mind doe call)
The Yeomen of the Guard were Archers all,
A hundred at a time I oft haue seene,
With Bowes & Arrowes ride before the *Queene,
Their Bowes in hand, their Quiuers on their shoul­ders,
Was a most stately shew to the beholders:
And herein, if men rightly doe obserue,
The Arrowes did for two good vses serue:
First for a shewe of great magnificence,
And trusty weapons for to guard their Prince.
Prince Charles (our hope of Britaines happinesse)
Doth his affection oftentimes expresse:
With many Noble men of worthy race,
Doe with their best performance, shooting grace:
And long may these *superiour Worthies liue,
Example to th'inferiour sort to giue,
That though this exercise be much declin'd,
May some supporters and defenders find.
King Sauls braue sonne (true-hearted Ionathan)
* Dauids true friend, a Prince, a valiant man,
Did in this noble quality excell,
As the true story of his life doth tell.
King Dauid made a Law, and did command,
That shooting should be taught within this land.
Thus from true Histories we plainely see,
That shooting is of great antiquity:
And that the glory of the Gooses wings
Hath beene aduanc'd by Princes, Lords, and Kings,
And that yet Princes, Peeres, and Potentates,
And best of all conditions, and estates.
Doe giue to Archery the praise and prise
Of the best, manly, honest exercise.

The praise of the Gooses Quill.

ANd thus for shooters hauing shew'd my skill,
I'le now say somewhat for the Gooses Quill.
Great Mars his Traine of Military men
I leaue, and turne the Shaft into a Pen:
The Gooses feather acteth sundry parts,
And is an Instrument both of Armes and Arts.
Many diuine and heauenly mysteries,
And many memorable Histories
Had with blind Ignorance beene ouer-growne,
And (were't not for the Pen) had ne'r bin knowne.
The Muses might in Parnass hill haue staid,
Their fames had ne'r bin through the world displaid
But that the Gooses Quill with full consent,
Was found to be the fittest Instrument
To be their Nuntius, and to disperse
Their glory through the spacious Vniuerse.
Grammar (that of all Science is the ground)
Without it in forgetfulnesse were drownd,
And Rethorick (the sweet rule of eloquence)
Through the Goose Quill distils it's Quintess [...]
Logick with definitions (I am sure)
Were nothing, or else very much obscure:
Astronomie would lye, or lye forgot
And scarce remembred, or regarded not;
Arithmetick would erre exceedingly,
Forgetting to deuide and multiply:
Geometry would lose the Altitude,
The craslic Longitude and Latitude:
And Musick in poore case would be o're-throwne,
But that the Goose Quill pricks the Lessons downe
Thus all the liberall Sciences are still
In generall beholding to the Quill.
Embassages to farre remoted Princes.
Bonds, Obligations, Bills, and Euidences,
Letters twixt foe and foe, or friend and friend,
To gratulate, instruct, or reprehend,
Assurances, where faith and troth is scant,
To make the faithlesse to keepe couenant;
The Potent weapon of the reuerend Law,
That can giue life or death, saue, hang, or draw,
That with a Royall, or a noble dash,
Can from the Kings Exchequer fetch the Cash.
To most shop-keepers it a reckoning makes,
What's got or lost, what he layes out, or takes:
Without the Goose a Scriuener were a foole,
Her Quill is all his onely working toole:
And sure a Goose is of a wondrous nature,
Contrary to each other liuing creature,
Things that in water, earth, or ayre haue growth,
And feede and liue, bite onely with the mouth:
But the Goose with sophisticated skill,
Doth bite most dangerously with her quill,
Yet is she free from prodigality,
And most of all bites partiality:
She oft with biting makes a Knight a detter,
*And rankle to a Begger, little better.
She oft hath bit a Gallant from his land
With quick conueyance, and by slight of hand:
Sometimes his biting is as durable,
As is a Gangren most incureable,
And many that into her fangs doe fall,
Doe take the Counters for their Hospitall;
A Forger, or a Villaine that forsweares,
Or a False-witnesse, she bites off their eares:
On me her pow'r she many times hath showne,
And made me pay more debts then were mine o [...]
Thus doth her Quill bite more then doe her chaps,
To teach fooles to beware of after-claps.
[Page 109] They say in Latine that a Gooses name
[...] ANSER, which made in Anagram,
SNARE, in English, which doth plaine declare,
That she to fooles and knaues will be a snare. *,
[...]deede she oft hath beene a snare to mee,
[...]y selfe was in the fault, alas not shee.

The memorable honour of the Goose sauing the Capitoll at Rome.

Bvt now to shew her neuer-dying name,
And how at Rome she wan deseruing fame:
When barbarous Brennus, cruell King of Galls,
And wasted Italy, and raz'd Romes Walls:
When deuastation did depopulate,
With sword and furious fire the Romane state.
When many a throat was tyrannously cut,
And all the Citie to the sacke was put:
When many of the Citizens did flye
[...]to the Capitoll to liue and dye,
Whereas the Image of great Iupiter,
The rip rap, thwick thwack thumping thunderer)
Was of refined gold, adorn'd, ador'd,
Where helples fooles, poore helples helpe implor'd.
The Capitoll a goodly building was,
And did (for strength) by Art and Nature Passe,
[...]o that the people that were there within,
Thought it impregnable, that none could win:
But slender watch vpon the walls they kept,
And (thinking all secure) secure they flept,
They thought Ioues Statue, and his Temple there,
Was a sure guard, that foes they need not feare:
But Ioue these dangers did not vnderstand,
Or else he had some other worke in hand:
Perhaps poore Io like a Cow in shape,
He like a Bull then wrong'd with beastly rape,
Or like a Swan for Leada, he thought fit,
[...]n that fowles forme, that foule fault to commit:
[...]erchance that time faire Danae to intrap,
He rain'd bewitching gold into her lap;
[...]de then (perhaps) did to Alemena goe,
And made a Cuckold of Amphitrio,
Or else to Semele that time he came,
And burnt his burning loue with lightnings flame,
Perhaps with H [...] he the Ram did play,
Or with E [...]ipa toy'd the time a way,
Mu [...]sine he could not let alone,
Or he to Hib [...] that time was gone,
[...]t may be to An [...]pa he went,
Or to Aster [...] for his more content,
Or it may be he lay within his bed,
And play'd and fool'd with wanton Ganimede:
*But whither Iupiter that time was got,
He to defend the Capitoll was not,
Vnlesse he were transformed wondrous strange,
And to a Gooses shape his Godhead change:
For all the Guard were sleeping at that time,
When as the armed Galls the walls did clime.
Then when the Watch did to destruction sleepe,
The carefull Goose true sentinell did keepe,
She spide the foe, and keak'd out an Alarme,
At which the Sleepers wak'd, & cri'd, Arme, Arme:
Then they their Enemies in fury slew,
Which down the battlements in heaps they threw.
And thus a Goose the honour did obtaine.
To saue the Romanes, which had else beene slaine:
And to preserue the famous Capitall,
And set Rome free from the insulting Gall.
The Romane Generall that time, as then
Was manly Manlius, a stout man of men,
The Senate gratefully did raise anon,
An Altar with a golden Goose thereon;
And for the Gooses seruice had beene such,
They allowd almes-Oares from the common Hutch,
For old and sicke decayed Geese to feed,
In memory of that braue Gooses deed.
Why should the Eagle be the Bird of Ioue,
When as the Goose deserueth so much loue?
'Tis plaine and euident the Goose was cause,
That all Rome scap't from speedy Martiall lawes.
Yet did the Romans (like ingratefull Nags)
Aduance an Eagles portrait in their Flags,
When as Cornelius Agrippa sayes,
The Goose deseru'd it more by many wayes.
Now hauing done the Capitoll Goose right,
Ile try [...] some other wayes to bree delight.

Goostoft in Lincolnshire.

IN Lincolnshire an ancient Towne doth stand,
Call'd Goostoft, that hath neither fallow'd Land,
Or Woods, or any fertile pasture ground,
But is with warry Fens incompast round.
The people there haue neither Horse or Cowe,
Nor Sheepe, nor Oxe, or Asse, nor Pig, or Sowe:
Nor Creame, Curds, Whig, Whay, Buttermilke or Cheese,
Nor any other liuing thing but Geese.
The Parson of the Parish takes great paines,
And tyth Geese onely, are his labours gaines:
If any charges there must be defray'd,
Or Impositions on the Towne is layd,
[Page 110]As Subsidies, or fifteenes for the King,
Or to mend Bridges, Churches, any thing.
Then those that haue of Geese the greatest store,
Must to these Taxes pay so much the more.
Nor can a man be raisde to Dignity,
But as his Geese encrease and multiply.
And as mens Geese doe multiply and breed,
From Office vnto office they proceed.
A man that hath but with twelue Geese began,
In time hath come to be a Tythingman:
And with great credit past that Office thorough
(His Geese increasing) he hath bin Headborough.
Then (as his Flocke in number are accounted)
Vnto a Constable, he hath bin mounted.
And so from place to place he doth aspire,
And as his Geese grow more hee's raised higher.
Tis onely Geese there that doe men prefer,
And 'tis a rule, no Geese, no Officer.
At Hunnibourne, a Towne in Warwickeshire,
What Gogmagog Gargantna Geese are there,
For take a Goose that from that place hath bin,
That's leane, and nought but feathers, bones & skin,
And bring her thither, and with little cost
Shee'l be as fat as any Bawde, almost.
For take foure Geese, and with a like expence,
Feed one there, and the others two miles thence,
And she that feedes at Hunnibourne shall bee
More worth in weight & price, then th'other three.
She shall with flesh vnable be to goe,
I cannot yeeld the Reason, but 'tis so *

Goose Faire at Stratford Bow, the Thursday after Whitso [...]ide.

AT Bowe the Thursday after Pentecost,
There is a Faire of Greene Geese, ready rost,
*Where as a Goose is very dogcheape there,
The Sawce is onely somewhat sharpe and deare,
There (o'r they scarce haue feathers on their backe)
By hundreds and by heapes they goe to wracke,
There is such Baking, rosting, broyling, boyling,
Such swearing, drabbing, dancing, dicing, toyling,
Such shifting, sharking, cheating, smoaking, stinking,
Such Gormondizing, cramming, guzling, drinking:
As if the world did runne on wheeles away,
Or all the Deuils in hell kept Holiday.
And as Hearbs, Flowres and Weeds together grow,
So people are that day at Stratford Bow,
There sits a Cheater with a simple Gull,
And there an honest woman, there a Trull,
Yonder a Fidler dawb'd with greace and Ale,
And there an Asse telling an idle tale.
There's one a Rosting, yonders one a Stewing,
And yon's one drinkes vntill he fall a spewing:
There's a kinde Cuckold with his Wife doth [...]d [...]
To exercise the office of a Pander,
His Pimpship with his Punke despight the home,
Eate Gosling giblets in a fort of Corne.
There is ran tan Tom Tinker and his Tib,
And there's a Iugler with his fingers glib.
There throngs a Cutpurse, with his working toole,
And there's gallant Coxcombe, there's Fooles
There's foure or fiue together by the eares,
And tumble in the Dirt like Dogs and Beares.
One staggering there hath got the drunken yox,
And there one swaggering's fast within the Stocks
Thus with these Gadeymaufry humours still,
These Linsey-wolsey postures Good and ill,
These mingle mangle, motly toyes they spend
The time, till night doth make them homew [...]
Then they returne as wise as Geese away,
For whom so many Geese were slaine that day. W [...].
They brought both wit & money with thē thithe,
But with the Geese 'tis all deuour'd together.
And if they were but taught as well as fed,
More Coyne were sau'd, and many a wiser head.
Thus (as my Muse is able) I haue told
How that a Gooses vse is manifold.
How many seuerall sortes of Geese there are,
Some wilde, some tame, some too neer some too far
How from her flesh and entrailes, it is plaine,
*Good food and Physicke daily we obtaine:
How freely she doth play the true Vpholster,
And fill with Feathers, pillowes, bed and bolster.
And how in many an honorable War,
The gray Goose wing hath bin the vanquisher.
The necessarie vses of her Quill,
How to the good 'tis good, Ill to the ill.
And Shooting here (according to my loue)
To bee a noble Exercise I proue.
And how the Goose Romes Capitoll did saue,
(As sayes the Story) I described haue.
And now let men examine well and try,
If any Bird in water, earth, or sky,
Or all in generall together are,
With the good Goose (for worth) to make Cōpare.
Many absurdly, idle, foolish, base,
Will call a man a Goose in foule disgrace:
When if men rightly vnderstood the same,
A man is honour'd with a Gooses name.
For though the Eagle be of Birds the King,
Yet 'tis a rauenous, greedy hurtfull thing.
And he that with that tytle me should call,
I had as leiue he call'd me Theefe with all.
Shee while she liues doth yeeld reliefe to many,
And aliue or dead, beholding not to any.
[Page 111]She hath maintain'd ten thousand men,
With food, & Physicke, Lodging, Shafts and Pen,
And lastly (not to charge them any wuyes)
Her owne Quill here, writes her own worthy praise.
Because a Goose is common, and not deere,
She amongst fooles is small esteemed heere.
So Black berryes, that grow on euery bryer,
Because th'are plenty, few men doe desire:
Spanish Potatoes are accounted dainty,
And English Persneps are course meate, though plenty.
But if these Berryes or those Rootes were scant,
They would be thought as rare, through little want,
That we should eate them, and a price allow,
As much as Strawberryes, and Potatoes now.
Why Bread is common, hauing still our fill
We thinke not on, because we haue it still:
But if we want Bread, then we doe remember,
We want the ground worke of our belly timber.
The Light is common, which few thinke vpon,
Till Night doth put her blindfold mufler on,
And all attyr'd in mourning blacke as pitch,
Then men misse light, and tumble in the Ditch.
[...]o should we want a Gooses Flesh and Feather,
The quantity of but fiue yeeres together:
We than should all confesse with one consent,
How that a Goose were superexcellent.
Many good blessings we too much forget,
Cause thay are neere and cheape, not farre to fet.
[...]e thinkes I heare some Cuckow, or some Iay,
Some Daw, some Pye, some Gull, or Buzzard say,
That I haue giuen the Goose her worthy stile,
But haue forgot the Gander all this while.
He giue them Answer (though they merit none)
[...] doe include both sexes vnder one,
Tis knowne to euery persit vnderstander,
A Goose is much superiour to a Gander.
For though a man, a Mare or Gelding stride,
We briefly say, he doth on Horsebacke ride:
And though a Gelding be the beast that bare,
We call't a Horse, that's neither Horse or Mare
So Ganders vnder name of Geese doe goe,
The Gooses worthinesse deserues it so.
Once I remember, Riding on my way
In Barkshire, neere vnto a Towne call'd Bray,
I on my Iourney as I past along,
Rode by a Goose, a Gander and their young:
(I neither minding them nor yet their Crue)
The Gander in my face with fury flew,
Who in his fierce encounter was more hot,
Then if he had bin Spanish Don Quixot.
But sure himselfe so brauely he did beare,
Because his Loue and Lady Goose was there:
And 'twas a spuire his Chiualry vnto,
To haue his sweet heart see what he did doe.
My Horse he started, to the ground I went,
Dismounted in that (Ganderous) tournament.
I should say Dangerous, but sure I am
That GANDEROVS is a DANGEROVS Anagram.
The Gander was mine enemy, what tho,
Ile honour worthy Valour in my foe.
He Tilted brauely, and in liew of it,
The Gooses Quill, the Ganders praise hath writ.
Thus for the Goose I hauing done my best,
My toyled Muse retires vnto her rest:
Ile shut my Inckhorne, and put vp my Pen,
So take my Goose amongst you, Gentlemen.
FINIS.

TO THE FISHMONGERS, AND BVTCHERS, GREETING.

FRiendly, frolicke, franke, free-hearted, famous flourishing Fish­mongers; And braue, bold, battring, Beefe-braining Butchers, to both your Companies in generall I wish health and happinessed acknowledge you to be Haberdafhers for the belly, & I wish a plen­tifull encrease of good appetites and hungry stomackes, that euery one in their calling may proue valiant of their teeth, whereby you may feede merily by the profit you receiue bynimble-chop'd feeders. I haue plainely and briefely set downe Iack a Lents good deeds and his bad, his friends and his foes, the great need and necessitie that wee haue of his comming once a yeere into this Kingdome, and the great pitty that hee is no better entertained and obserued. And though it bee written in a mery stile, yet I dare presume that mirth and truth walke together in it. In a word, reade it if you like, and iudge it as you lift, please your selues and I am pleasde: and let I. S. hold Iacke a Lents stirrop whilest hee alights, for of all men I haue most reason to preferre him for a tricke hee shewed mee lately. So I rest yours euer, and his as farre as hee dares sweare for twelue-pence.

IOHN TAYLOR.

IACKE A LENT HIS BEGINNING AND ENTERTAINMENT: with the mad prankes of his Gentleman-Vsher Shroue­Tuesday that goes before him, and his Foot­man Hunger attending.

OF Iacke an Apes I lift not to endite,
Nor of Iack Daw my Gooses quill shall write:
Of Iacke of Newbery I will not repeate,
Nor Iacke of both sides, nor of Skip-Iacke neate.
[...]o praise the Turnspit Iacke my Muse is mum,
Nor of the entertainment of Iacke Drum
[...]e not rehearse: nor of Iacke, Dagge, Iacke Date,
Iacke foole, or Iacke a Dandy, I relate:
Nor of Blacke Iacks at gentle Buttry bars,
Whose liquor oftentimes breeds houshold wars:
Nor Iacke of Do [...]er that Grand Iury Iacke,
Nor Iacke Sauce (the worst knaue amōgst the pack.)
But of the Iacke of Iackes, Great Iacke a Lent,
To write his worthy acts is my intent;
How hee's attended with a messe of Iackes,
Whose fame my Artlesse weake inuention cracks,
Iacke Hirring and Iacke Sprat, Iacke Strawe, Iacke Cade,
These are the Iacks with which my pen must trade.

TO speake of the originall of this Iacks, or from whence the name of Iack hath deri­vation, I thinke it not impertinent to shewe you: Therefore I would haue all men vnder­stand that Iack is no Christian, nor was euer baptiz'd, but is sprung (like a Musrom) out of the corruption of the name of Iohn; for be­fore, Iohns were, I did neuer find mention of any Iacks except blacke Iacks: and there was an old courteous Epithite attributed to Iohn (as gentle Iohn) but now so many Iacks are made Gentles, that most Iohns and Iacks make no further account of Gentilitie then glorious Titles and gawdy Sures: so much for Iack.

Now for the name and beginning of Lent (as neere as I can I will describe) the word Lent doth signifie, a thing borrowed: for except a thing be borrowed, how is it lent? & being lent, it followes by consequence that it was borrowed. But from whom it was so free of the loane of this Lent, that would bee knowne.

First then you must conceiue, that the true Etimologie, or ancient name of this Lent, is Lean-tide, which being Anagramatiz'd (Land­it) for the chiefe [...]prouision that he is furnished withall being fish, and such sea-faring fare, that except he land it, there will bee but cold takings in the fish markets: for Iack a Lent hath no societie, affinitie or propinquitie with flesh and blood, and by reason of his leannesse (as Nymshag an acient Vtopian Philosopher de­clares in his Treatise of the Antiquitie of Ginger­bread, Lib. 7. Pag. 30000.) hee should haue beene a foot man to a Prince of that Em­pire named Lurguish Haddernot; but Lent shewed him the tricke of a right footman, and ran away from him faster then an Irish Lackquey, and from that time to this was neuer seen [...] in Vtopia. Besides, he hath the Art of Legerde­maine beyond all the Iuglers in Egypt or Europe, for with a tricke that he hath, he is in England, Scotland, France, Ireland, and the most part of the Christian world at one and the selfe same time, yet for all this nimblenesse and quicke agility, he was neuer seene to sweare, which [Page 114] is no maruell, because he hath not any fat or pinguidity in his incorporeall corps. He hath a wise named Fasting, as leane as himselfe, yet sure I thinke she is as honest as barren: but it were very dangerous for an Epicure or a Pu­ritan to haue a bastard by her, for there were no other hope, but that the father of the brat (if it should proue male) would tutor it in all disobedience against both Lent and Fasting: for although Lent and Abstinence be but forty dayes endurance, yet to these valiant men of their teeth it seemes forty yeeres, for they put the Letter (e) into the word Fast, and turne it into Feast. And though a man eate fish till his guts crack, yet if he eate no flesh he fasts, because he eates as fast as he can. For the word Fast is to be taken in many sences, as to fast from feeding, and to feed fast, to be bown to fast, and to be bound fast.

The Fast from feeding is diuers wayes per­formed.

  • 1 Some there are that fast for pure deuo­tion, with a zealous abstinence from any kind of corporall foode for a space, because they will bring downe and curbe their vnbridled af­fections, and tame their fleshly desires, that so the exercise of spirituall contemplation may be the more seruent, their repentance more vnfained, and their prayers more accepta­ble.
  • 2 Another Fast is hypocriticall or sophisticall, as a holy Maid that inioyned her selfe to abstaine foure dayes from any meate whatso­euer, and being locked vp close in a roome, she had nothing but her two Books to feede vpon, but the Bookes were two painted Boxes, made in the forme of great Bibles with claspes and bosses, the inside not hauing one word of God in them, nor any fault escaped in the printing, but the one well fild with Suckets, and sweet meates, and the other with Wine, vpon which this deuout Votary did fast with zealous medi­tation, eating vp the contents of one Booke, and drinking contentedly the other.

Then there is a Fast called in spight of your teeth, and that is, Will yee nill yee, when a mans stomacke is in Folio, and knowes not where to haue a dinner in Decimo sexto. This Fast I haue often met withall at the Court, and at diuers great mens houses, not because there hath wanted meat, but because some h [...] wanted manners, and I haue wanted imp [...] ­dence.

But Iack a Lents Fast is otherwise then [...] these, for I am as willing to fast with him as [...] feast with Shrouetide: for hee hath an army [...] various dishes, an hoast of diuers fishes, w [...] fallets, sawces, sweet meates, Wine, A [...] Beere, fruit, rootes, Reasons, Almonds, Spices [...] with which I haue often (and care not muc [...] to doe more often) made as good a shift [...] fast, and with as good a zeale performed it, [...] a Brownist will goe to plow vpon a Christmas day.

Thus hauing shewed the originall of this Iack, it followes next, that I declare his yeere­ly entertain [...]ment into this Ile of Great Bri­taine, what priuiledges he hath, to whom he is best welcome, who are glad of his depar­ture, what friends or foes he hath, and when he inhabiteth all the yeere after his going from hence.

Alwayes before Lent there comes wadling fat grosse bursten-gutted groome, called Shroue-Tuesday, one whose manners shewes, the [...] he is better fed then taught: and indeed he is the onely monster for feeding amongst all the dayes of the yeere, for he denoures more f [...] in foureteene houres, then this whole King­dome doth (or at the least should doe) in [...] weekes after: such boyling and broyling, such roasting and toasting, such stewing, and bre [...] ­ing, such baking, frying, mincing, cutting caruing, deuouring, and gorbellyed gurmo [...] dizing, that a man would thinke people did take in two months prouision at once into their paunches, or that they did ballast their bell [...] with meate for a voyage to Constantinople, or [...] the West Indies.

Moreouer, it is a goodly fight to see how the Cookes in Great mens Kitchins, doe fry in their masters suet, and sweat in their own grease, that if euer a Cooke be worth the [...] ­ting it is when Shroue-Tuesday is in towne, fo [...] he is so stued and larded, roasted, basted, and almost ouer-roasted, that a man may eate the [Page 115] rawest bit of him and neuer take a surfet. In a word, they are that day extreme cholericke, and too hot for any man to meddle with, being Monarchs of the Marow-bones, Marquesses of the Mutton, Lords high Regents of the Spit and the Kettle, Barons of the Gridiron, and sole Commanders of the Frying-pan. And all this hurly burly, is for no other purpose but to stop the mouth of this Land-wheale Shroue­Tuesday. At whose entrance in the morning, all the whole Kingdome is in quiet, but by that time the clocke strikes eleuen, which (by the helpe of a knauish Sexton) is commonly before nine, then there is a bell rung, cald The Pancake Bell, the sound whereof makes thou­sands of people distracted, and forgetfull ei­ther of manner or humanitie: Then there is a thing clad wheaten flowre, which the sulphory Necromanticke Cookes doe mingle with wa­ter, egges, spice, and other tragicall magicall inchantments, and then they put it by little and little, into a Frying-pan of boyling suet, where it makes a confused dismall hissing (like the Learnean Snakes in the reeds of Acheron, [...]tix or Phlegeton) vntill at last by the skill of the Cooke, it is transform'd into the forme of a Flap-iack, which in our translation is cald a Pancake, which ominous incantation the igno­rant people doe deuoure very greedily (ha­uing for the most part well dined before:)but they haue no sooner swallowed that sweet can­dyed baite, but straight their wits forsake them, and they runne starke mad, assembling in routs and throngs numberlesse of vngouer­ned numbers, with vnciuill ciuill commo­tions.

Then Tim Tatters (a most valiant villaine) with an Ensigne made of a piece of a Bakers mawkin fi [...]t vpon a Broome-staffe, he displaies his dreadfull colours, and calling the ragged Regiment together, makes an illiterate Ora­tion, stuft with most plentifull want of discre­tion: the conclusion whereof is, that some­what they will doe, but what they know not. Vntill as last comes marching vp another troope of Tarterdemalians, proclayming wars against no matter who, so they may be doing. Then these youths arm'd with cudgels, stones, hammers, rules, trowels, and hand-sawes, put Play houses to the sacke, and Bawdy-houses to the spoyle, in the quarrell breaking a thou­sand quarrels (of glasse I meane) making am­bitious brickbats breake their neckes, tum­bling from the tops of lofty chimnies, terribly vntyling houses, ripping vp the bowels of feather-beds, to the inriching of vpholsters, the profit of Plaisterers, and Dirtdawbers, the game of Glasiers, Ioyners, Carpenters, Ty­lers and Bricklayers. And which is worse, to the contempt of Iustice: for what auailes it for a Constable with an army of reuerend iusty Bill-men to command peace to these beasts, for they with their pockets in stead of Pistols, well char'd with stone-shot, discharge against the Image of Authority, whole volleyes as thicke as hayle, which robustions repulse puts the better sort to the worser part, making the band of vnscowred Halberdiers retyre fa­ster then euer they came on, and shew excee­ding discretion in prouing tall men of their heeles. Thus by the vnmanerly maners of Shroue-Tuesday Constables are baffled, Bawds are bang'd, Punckes are pillag'd, Panders are plagued, and the chiefe Commanders of these valourous villiacoes, for their reward for all this confusion, doe in conclusion purchase the inheritance of a Iayle, to the commodity of Iaylors, and discommodity to themselues, with a fearefull expectation that Tiburne shall stoppe their throats, and the Hangman take possession of their coates, or that some Beadle in bloody Characters shall imprint their faults on their shoulders. So much for Shroue-Tues­day, Iacke-a-Lents Gentleman Vsher, these haue beene his humours in former times, but I haue some better hope of reformation in him here­after, and indeed I wrote this before his com­ming this yeere 1617. not knowing how hee would behaue himselfe, but tottering betwixt Despaire and Hope, I leaue him.

Shroue-Tuesday hauing plaid these parts aforesaid, doth Exit, and next day Lent be­gins to enter, who is entertained by a graue, formall, Reuerend States-man, call'd Ciuill Policy: But you must vnderstand that Lent would very faine take vp his lodging here with [Page 116] Religion, but Religion will not be acquainted with him, and therefore Ciuill Policy hath the managing of the businesse. But it is a won­der to see what Munition and Artillery the Epicures, and Caniball Flesh-eaters doe pro­uide to oppose Lent, and keepe him out at the staffes end, as whole barrels of poudered beefe blow him vp, tubs of Porke to pistoll and shoote him through with his kindred hunger, famine, and desolation, Baricadoes of Bacon, as strong and impregnable Bulwarkes against inuasiue battery. Which Ciuill Policy per­ceiuing, causeth Proclamations straight to be published for the establishing of Lents Gouernment, but then to see how the Butchers (like silenc'd Schismaticks) are disperst, some [...]i­ding into the Countrey to buy Oxen, Kine, Calues, Sheepe and Lambs, leauing their wiues, men and maides, to make prouision of Pricks for the whole yeere in their absence: some againe of the inferior sort doe scout into Stables, Priuies, Sellers, Sir Francis Drakes Ship at Detford, my Lord Mayors Barge, and diuers secret and vnsuspected places, and there they make priuate Shambles with kil-calfe cruelty, and Sheepe-slaughtering murther, to the abuse of Lent, the deceiuing of the In­formers, and the great griese of euery zealous Fishmonger.

For indeed Lent in his owne nature is no blood-sucker, nor cannot indure any blood­shed; and it is his intent, that the Bull, the Oxe, the Ram, the Goat, the Buck, or any other beast, should be free to liue in any Cor­poration without molestation: it is Lents in­tent, that the innocent Lambe, and Essex Calfe, should suruiue to weare the crest of their Ancestors: that the Goose, the Buzzard, the Widgeon, and the Woodcocke, may walke fearelesse in any market Towne, checke by io [...]e with a Headborow, or a Tithingman.

The Cut-throats Butchers, wanting throats to cut,
At Lents approach their bloody Shambles shut:
For forty dayes their tyranny doth cease,
And men and beasts take truce and liue in peace:
The Cow, the Sow, the Ewe may safely feed.
And lough, grunt, bleate, and fructifie and breed,
Cocks, Hens, & Capons, Turkey, Goose, & Widgeon,
Hares, Conyes, Pheasant, Partridge, Plouer, Pidgeon,
All these are from the breake-neck Poulters pawes
Secur'd by Lent, and guarded by the lawes,
The goaring Spits are hang'd for fleshly sticking,
And then Cookes fingers are not worth the licking.

But to recount the numberlesse Army that Lent doth conduct, the great Munition and Artillery that he hath to withstand those that gainstand him, his weapons of offence and defence, and variety of hostile Acoustrements that his hoast is arm'd withall: if I should write all these things, my memory must bee boundlesse, because my worke would be end­lesse. First, marches Sir Lawrence Ling, with his Regiment, an ancient Sea-faring Gentle­man: next followes Colonell Cod, oftentimes bleeding fresh in the Battell: then comes Captaine Stocke-fish, a well beaten Souldier, and one that is often proued to endure much; Sir Salmon Salt, in a pittifull Pickle valiantly abides the conflict, and Gilbert Gubbins all to tatters like a ragged souldier many times pieces out a broken supper. The maiesticall king of Fishes, the heroicall most magnificent Herring arm'd with white and red, keepes his Court in all this hurly-burly, [...]not like a tyrannicall teare throat in open armes, but like wise Dtogenes in a Barrell, where if any of his Regiments either doe or take iniury, though he want the sword of Iustice, yet he hath the scales, which I ima­gine he carries not for nought. The great Lord Treasurer to this mighty Prince (old Oliuer Cob) is very inward with him, and knowes more of his secrets then all his Priuy Counsell besides: & when his hard-rowd Master meanes to shew himselfe in his red bloody colours, then in fury he associates himselfe with two notorious Rebels, Iacke Straw, and Iacke Cade, who doe incompasse him round, and beleager him on each side, guarding his person from the fury of wind and weather.

The wet Fishmongers all this while (like so many Executioners) vnkennell the salt Ecles from their brinie Ambuscadoes, and with marshall Law hang them vp: the Stock-fish hauing tryed a terrible action of battry is con­demned to be drown'd, the Ling, Haberdine, [Page 117] Greene-fish, and Cole-fish, are drawne and quar­ [...]ered into poles, backes, and tailes, and (like Rebels in Ireland) hang'd with a withe: nay the King of fishes himselfe cannot escape, but [...]yrannically broyld vpon a Gridiron. Then comes Iacke-sauce with a spoon creeping out of a Mustard pot, arm'd in a pewter sawcer, a desperate fellow, and one that dares take Dauy Ap Diggon, or Shon Ap Morgan, by the nose, and many times (with the spirit of Teuxbury) he will make a man weepe being most merry, and take the matter in snuffe being well plea­sed

The Whiting, Rotcher, Gournet, and the Mop,
The Seate and Thorneback, in the net doth drop:
The pide-coat Mackrell, Pilchard, Sprat, and Soale,
To serue great lack-a Lent amaine doe trole.

In the Reareward comes Captaine Crab, Lieutenant Lobster, (whose catching clawes always puts me in minde of a Sergeant) the blushing Prawne, the well-armed Oyster, the Scollop, the Wilke, the Mussell, Cockle, and the Perewinkle, these are hot shots, Veneriall prouocators, fishy in substance, and fleshly in operation. The poore Anchoue is pittifully pepperd in the fight, whilst the Sturgeon is [...]eg'd randed, and iold about the eares, and in conclusion, without dissembling eaten with Fennell the Embleme of flattery: But the An­ [...]houe is oftentimes reuenged vpon his eaters, for being deuoured raw, hee broyles in their stomackes so hotly, that before the heat bee quenched the eaters are drenched in the blood of Bacchus, Sacke and Claret, that though a man bee as wise as a Constable at his en­trance, his wit sometimes is so shrunke in the [...]wetting, that he may want the vnderstanding of an Asse.

Then there are a crew of neere-bred fresh­water souldiers, our Thamessisians, our Com­rades of Barking, our Easterne, and Westerne Riuer-rouers, these youths are brought and caught by whole shoales, for indeed they are no fighters, but meere white-liuerd, heart­lesse runawayes, like the Turkes Asapye, that if the Fishermen (like diligent Catch­poles) did not watch narrowly to catch them by hooke and by crooke, by line and leasure, Lent might gape for Gudgeons, Roach and Dace, were it not for these Netmongers, it is no [...]flat lye to say, the Flounder might lye flat in his watry Cabin, and the Eele (whose slip­pery taile put mee in mind of a formall Cour­tiers promise) would wriggle vp and downe in his muddy habitation, which would bee a great discommodity for schoole-boyes, through the want of scourges to whip Gigs and Towne-Tops.

The Breame, the Lamprey, Barbell, But, and Pike,
Secure might keepe the Riuer, Pond, and Dike:
Carps, Tench, Perch, Smelts, would neuer come to land,
But for Nets, Angles, and the Fishers hand:
And bawsing queanes that vse to sell and buy,
Would cry, because they want where with to cry.

To speake of the honesty of Fisher-men, and the account that wee ought to make of their Calling, it was the faculty of Simon, Andrew, Iames and Iohn, the blessed Apostles, and by a common Rule, all Fishermen must be men singularly endued, and possest with the vertue of patience, for the Prouerbe, sayes, If you sweare you shall catch no fish, and I my selfe haue beene an eye-witnesse, when seuen or eight Anglers haue employed their best Art and industry two houres, and in the end they haue not beene able to share one Gudgeon or a Bleake amongst them all, the cause hath beene, either there was no fish to be caught, or else one impatient fellow of the Company hath sworne away good lucke.

I could runne ten Kingdomes (or Reames) of paper out of breath, in the praise of this leane Iacke, and his spawnes (Ember weekes, Fridayes, and fasting dayes) But I suppose there are none more sorrowfull in the time of his being here then Gentlemen and Gentle­women, for through the Royall Court, the Innes of Court, the Citty and Countrey, all the better sort weare mourning blacke as long as Lent is in Towne: But so soone as he is gone, then they change colours, and feast, banquet, reuell, and make merry, as if the Land were freed from some notorious Termagant Mon­ster, [Page 118] some murthering Plague, or some de­uouring Famine.

The Bakers metamorphose their trade from one shape to another, his round halfe-penny loaues are transform'd into square wigges, (which wigges like drunkards are drown'd in their Ale) the Rowles are turn'd to Simnels, in the shape of Bread-pyes, and the light puft vp foure cornerd Bun, doth shew that the knauery of the Baker is vniuersall, in Asia, Eu­ropa, Afrike, and America: for since Colliers & Scriueners haue purchas'd the possession of the Pillory from them, their light bread brings in heauy gaines, where if by chance a Batch or a Basket full being examined by the scales of Iustice, & the Bread committed to Newgate for want of weight, and the Baker to the Counter for lacke of conscience, yet hee knowes he shall out againe, and with a tricke that he hath, in one weeke he will recouer the consumption of his purse againe, by his mo­derate light handling of the medicine of meale, Yeast, and Water.

But now suppose that Palme-sunday is past, and that you see Lent, and both the Fish-streets sing loth to depart, whilst euery Fishmonger wrings his hands, and by the reason of cold takings, beates himselfe into a heat, whilst (to their great griefe) whole heards of Oxen, and flocks of Sheepe, are driuen into euery Towne for no other purpose, but to driue Lent out of the Countery.

Then pell-mell murther, in a purple hue,
In reeking blood his slaughtering pawes imbrew:
The Butchers Axe (like great Alcides Bat)
Dings deadly downe, ten thousand thousand flat:
Each Butcher (by himselfe) makes Marshall Lawes,
Cuts throats, & kills, and quarters, hangs, & drawes.

It is a thing worthy to be noted, to see how all the Dogges in the Towne doe wagge their tailes for ioy, when they see such prouision to driue away Lent, (for a Dogge, a Butcher, and a Puritan, are the greatest enemies hee hath) but there is one day in the yeere that Dogges in generall are most affraid, and that is the Friday after Easter, for they hauing past fiue weekes without seeing any flesh, and in­dured a hard siedge by Lent and fish-bones, then at Easter they see flesh on the Sunday, Munday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thurs­day day, and when the Fraiday comes, they see great store of fish againe, the poore Cu [...] (all in a pittifull quandary) stinke for woe, for feare that another Lent is come sodainely vpon them, thus they continue in that dog­ged perplexitie till the Sunday following when the appearance of flesh makes them haue a feeling, that they were more affraid then hurt.

But imagine Lent is gone, but who knows whither he is gone? that would be known: for it cannot be but that so mighty a Monarch as he, hath his inroades and his outloapes, his stan­ding Court of continuall residence, as well as his tents, houses, and places of remoouall for pleasure and progresse. For he comes to vs by way of annuall visitaiton: to the Ca­puchin Fryers he comes twice euery yeere, foe they keepe two Lents, because they will bee sure to fast double, for when a thing is well done (tis an old saying) it is twice done, and by consequence a thing being twice done, must be well done: I know not why they doe it, but some say, that it is a worke of Supe­arr rogation, and so I leaue them.

But Lent keeps his continuall court with the holy Couents of the vnsanctified fathers, the Fryers Carthusians, these are they that haue made a perpetuall diuorce betweene beasts and birds, these are they that haue confirm'd an euerlasting league with Lent, and all the ragged Aquarian Regiments of the spacious Kingdome of Pisces. For when they enter into their order first, they are inioyned neuer to touch or taste any manner of flesh whatsoeuer, which they doe inuiolably performe: for let hunger, and thin-gutted famine assault them neuer so cruelly, so that there were no fish to be had, yet they hold it meritorious to starue and famish, rather then to eate flesh. For in­deed in cases of necessity they haue power to metamorphose flesh into fish: (as for example) when any Towne is besiedged and sharply as­sailed with warre without, and famine within, that meate is fallen into such a consumption, [Page 119] that fish is gone, and flesh is scarce, then these [...]enerable fathers (by Apostaticall power which they haue) can take a Sir-loyne of Beefe, and thrust his knighthood into a tub of water, and command him to come forth trans­form'd into a Ling, and so for all kind of flesh else, they can turne a Pig to a Pike, a Goose, [...]o a Gurnet, a Hen to a Herring, a Sow to a Salmon, and an Owle to an Oyster: and all these are no wonders to them, for they are all as nothing to their exorcising tricke of Trans­substantiation in the Sacrament: for it is not possible for any thing to be impossible to them that can make their Maker, and coniure their Sauiour into a peece of bread, and eate him when they haue done. With these enemies of [...]arnalitie Lent hath domesticall perpetuitie, [...]ese obserue his Lawes more firmely, then they doe either the first or second Table, and twenty Citizens shall breake politickely, and take vp their lodging in Luds vnlucky gate be­fore they will cracke the least Iniunction that is articulated betwixt Lent and them.

Thus hauing shewed the progresse, egresse and regresse of this Mediterranian, Atlanticke, Belgicke, Gallobelgicus, this Caspian, Ibe­ [...]rian British, Celticke, Callidonian, com­manding Marine countermander, I thinke it not amisse to declare what good he doth in this Kingdome the time of his being here, and how much more good he would doe if he were rightly obserued.

As it is a matter of conscience to obey superiour and supreme Magistrates, so in that respect I hold it a conscience to abstaine from flesh-eating in Lent: not that I thinke it to bee [...]vncleane to the cleane, or that the eating or not eating, is meritorious: for I am perswa­ded that a man may goe to heauen as well with a legge of a Capon, as with a red Herring. But seeing Lent is ordained to a good intent, for the increase and preseruation of Calues, Lambs, Swine, and all kind of beasts, and birds whatsoeuer, whereby the breeding and multiplicitie of these creatures makes our Land the terrestriall Paradise of plenty, and so is (by the bountifull blessings of the Almigh­ty all-giuing Giuer) able to maintaine her selfe, and relieue many neighbouring Realmes, and Regions. Surely they are no good Common­wealths men, that wilfully will breake so tole­rable aninstitution, as to refraine sixe or seuen weekes in a yeere from flesh, hauing so much variety and change of fish and other sustenance more then sufficient.

It is most certaine, that if Lent were truely kept, and the fish dayes in euery weeke duely obserued, and that euery house in this King­dome did spend but the quantity of two Ha­berdine or Greenfish in a weeke, that then this Kingdome of great Britaine both for meat and Mariners would be the Mistresse of the world, and for wealth and riches superlatiue to the Mynes of America.

But the nature of man is so peruerse, that like Pandoraes Boxe, hee will be tooting and prying soonest into that which he is most re­strained from, wherein hee shewes himselfe to bee no changeling, but the naturall sonne of Adam, and heire to his frailtie and disobe­dience: for in common reason (for a common good) if there were no statutes, no precepts or commands for the keeping of Lent and fish­dayes, men would of themselues, (and by their owne instigation (bridle their fleshly ap­petites with the inafle of discretion. It is an vnmeasurable detriment to this Kingdome, the abuse, neglect, & contempt of this so laudable and commodious an institution, and the due obseruing of it duely would be vnualua­ble, I thinke past the reach of Arithmeticke: but I haue often noted, that if any superfluons feasting or gurmondizing, pancsi-cramming assembly doe meete, the disordered businesse is so ordered, that it must bee either in Lent, vpon a Friday, or a fasting day: for the meat doth not relish well, except it be sawe'd with disobediente and contempt of Authority. And though they eate Sprat on the Sunday, they care not, so they may be full gorg'd with flesh on the Friday night.

Then all the zealous Puritans will feast,
In detestation of the Romish beast.

For mine owne part (as I haue before writ­ten I hold fish or flesh no Maxims, Axiomes, [Page 120] or grounds of Religion, but those that wil­fully and contemptuously doe care flesh in the Lent (except such whose appetites are re­pugnant to fish, and whose nature hath not beene vsed to it, except such as are sicke, and women with childe, for all which there is a lawfull toleration) except such, I say, he that feasts with flesh in Lent, I wish he might bee constrained to fast with fish all the yeere after for his contempt.

Wide and large is the way that I might tra­uell in this spacious businesse: but few words are best, especially if they bee spoken to the wife, and if any poore Iacke-a-Lent doe ha [...] pen into the hands of a foole, tis but a Foo [...] and a Iacke, or two fooles well met, but he [...] is the ods, a wise man will make much of [...] Iacke for his plaine dealing, when a foole will quarrell with him, and falling together by the eares, teare one anothers cloathes, and the Iacks paper-ierkin goes to wracke.

CERTAINE BLANKE VERSES VVRITTEN of purpose to no purpose, yet so plainely contriu'd, that a Childe of two yeeres old may vnderstand them as well as a good Scholler of fifty.

GReat Iacke-a-Lent, clad in a Robe of Ayre,
Threw mountaines higher then Alcides beard:
Whilst Pancradge Church, arm'd with a Samphier blade,
Began to reason of the businesse thus:
You squandring Troglodites of Amsterdam,
How long shall Cerberus Tapster be?
What though stout Asax lay with Proserpine,
Shall men leaue eating powdred Beefe for that?
I see no cause but men may picke their theeth,
Though Brutus with a Sword did kill himselfe.
Is Shooters-hill turn'd to an Oyster pie,
Or may a May-pole be a butterd Plaice?
Then let Saint Katherins saile to Bride-well Court,
And Chitterlings be worne for statute lace.
For if a Humble bee should kill a Whale
With the butt-end of the Antarticke Pole,
'Tis nothing to the marke at which we ayme:
For in the Commentaries of Tower Ditch,
A fat stew'd Bawd hath bin a dish of state.
More might be said, but then more must be spoke,
The weights sell downe because the Iacke rope broke.
And he that of these lines doth make a doubt,
Let him sit downe and picke the meaning out.
FINIS.

TO ALL MY LOVING ADVENTVRERS, BY VVHAT NAME OR TITLE SOEVER, MY GENERALL SALVTATION.

REader, these Trauailes of mine into Scotland, were not vnderta­ken, neither in imitation, or emulation of any man, but onely de­uised by my selfe, on purpose to make triall of my friends, both in this Kingdome of England, and that of Scotland; and because I would be an eye-witnes of diuers things which I had heard of that Countrey; and whereas many shallow-brain'd Critickes, doe lay an aspersion on me, that I was set on by others, or that I did vn­rgoe this proiect, either in malice, or mockage of Master Benjamin Ionson, I vow the faith of a Christian, that their imaginations are all wide, for he is a Gentleman, whom I am so much obliged for many vndeserued courtesies that I haue receiued [...]m him, and from others by his fauour, that I durst neuer to be so impudent or in­ [...]atcfull, as either to suffer any mans per swasions, or mine owne instigation, to incite [...], to make so bad a requitall, for so much goodnesse formerly receiued; so much for at, and now Reader, if you expect

That I should write of Cities situations,
Or that of Countries I should make relations:
Of brooks, crooks, nooks; of riuers, boorns and rills,
Of mountaines, fountaines, Castles, Towres and hills,
Of Shieres, and Pieres, and memorable things,
Of liues and deaths of great commanding Kings,
I touch not those, they not belong to mee:
But if such things as these you long to see,
Lay downe my Booke, and but vouchsafe to reede
The learned Camden, or laborious Speede.
And so God speede you and me, whilst I rest yours in all thankefulnesse: IO: TAYLOR

THE PENNYLES PILGRIMAGE, OR THE MONEY-LESSE PERAMBVLATION, OF IOHN TAYLOR, ALIAS, THE KINGS MAIESTIES WATER-POET. HOVV HE TRAVAILED ON FOOT, FROM LONDON TO EDENBOROVGH IN Scotland, not carrying any Money to or fro, neither Begging, Borrowing, or Asking Meate, Drinke or Lodging.

LIst Lordings, list, (if you haue lust to list)
I write not here a tale of had I wist:
But you shall heare of trauels, and relations,
Descriptions of strange (yet English) fashions.
And he that not beleeues what here is writ,
Let him (as I haue done) make proofe of it.
The yeere of grace, accounted (as I weene)
One thousand, twice three hundred and eighteene,
And to relate all things in order duly,
'Twas Tuesday last, the foureteenth day of Iuly,
Saint Reuels day, the Almanacke will tell ye
The signe in Virgo was, or neere the belly:
The Moone full three dayes old, the wind full South;
At these times I began this tricke of youth.
I speake not of the Tide, for vnderstand,
My legges I made my Oares, and rowd by land,
Though in the morning I began to goe,
Good fellowes trooping, flock'd me so,
That make what haste I could, the Sunne was set,
Ere from the gates of London I could get.
At last I tooke my latest leaue, thus late
At the Bell Inne, that's extra Aldersgate.
There stood a horse that my prouant should carrie,
From that place to the end of my fegarie,
My Horse no Horse, or Mare, but gelded Nagge,
That with good vnderstanding bore my bagge:
And of good cariage he himselfe did show,
These things are ex'lent in a beaste you know.
There in my Knapsack, (to pay hungers fees)
I had good Bacon, Bisket, Neates-tongue, Check,
With Roses, Barberies, of each Conserues,
And Mitridate, that vigrous health preserues:
And I entreate you take these words for no-lyes,
I had good Aqua vita, Rosa so-lies:
With sweet Ambrosia, (the gods owne drinke)
Most ex'lent geere for mortals, as I thinke.
Besides, I had both vineger and oyle,
That cou [...]d a daring sawcie stomack foyle.
This foresaid Tuesday night 'twixt eight and [...]
Well rigg'd & ballac'd, both with Beere and W [...]
I stumbling forward, thus my iaunt begun,
And went that night as farre as Aslington.
There did I finde (I dare affirme it bold)
A Maydenhead of twenty fiue yeeres old,
But surely it was painted, like a whore,
And for a signe, or wonder, hang'd at dore,
Which shewes a Maidenhead, that's kept so long,
May be hang'd vp, and yet sustaine no wrong.
There did my louing friendly Host begin
To entertaine me freely to his Inne:
And there my friends, and good associates,
Each one to mirth himselfe accommodates.
At Wel-head both for welcome, and for cheere,
Hauing a good New tonne, of good stale Beere:
There did we Trundle downe health, after health,
(Which oftentimes impaires both health & wea [...]
[Page 123]Till cuery one had fill'd his mortall Trunke.
And onely Nobody was three parts drunke.
The morrow next, Wednesday Saint Swithens day,
[...]rem ancient Islengton I tooke my way.
[...] Hollywell I was inforc'd carrowse,
[...]le high, and mightie, at the Blind-mans house.
[...]ut ther's a helpe to make amends for all,
That though the Ale be great, the Pots be small.
[...]t High-gate hill to a strange house I went,
And saw the people were to eating bent,
[...]either borrow'd, Crau'd, Ask'd, Begg'd or Bought,
[...]ut most laborious with my teeth I wrought.
[...] did not this, 'cause meate or drinke was [...]cant,
[...]ut I did practise thus before my want;
[...]ike to a Tilter that would winne the prize,
Before the day hee'le often exercise.
[...] I began to put in vre, at first
These principles 'gainst hunger, 'gainst thirst.
[...]lose to the Gate, there dwelt a worthy man,
That well could take his whiffe, & quaffe his Can,
[...]ight Robin Good-fellow, but humours euill,
[...]oe call him Robin Fluto, or the Deuill.
[...]ot finding him a Deuill, freely harted,
With friendly farewels I tooke leaue and parted.
And as alongst I did my Iourney take,
[...]dranke at Broomes well, for pure fashions sake.
[...]wo miles I trauelled then without a bayte,
[...]he Sarazens head at Whetstone entring straight,
[...]found an Host, might lead an Host of men,
[...]ceeding Fat, yet named Lean, and Fen.
And though we make small reckoning of him here,
[...]ce's knowne to be a very Great man there.
There I tooke leaue of all my Company,
[...]ade all farewell, yet spake to No-body.
[...]ood Reader thinke not strange, what I compile,
[...]or No-body was with me all this while.
And No-body did drinke, and, winke, and scinke,
And on occasion freely spent his Chinke.
[...]any one desire to know the man,
[...]alke, stumble, Timndle, but in Barbican.
[...]her's as good Beere and Ale as euer twang'd,
And, in that street kind No-body is hang'd.
[...] leaning him vnto his matchlesse fame,
[...]o St. Albanes in the Euening came,
Where Master Taylor, at the Sarazens head,
[...]nask'd (vnpaid for) me both lodg'd and fed.
[...] Tapsters, Hostlers, Chamberlaines, and all,
[...]i'd me a labour, that I need not call,
[...]he Iugges were fild & fild, the cups went round,
[...]d in a word great kindnes there I found,
[...] which both to my Cousin, and his men,
[...] still be thankefull in word, deed, and pen.
[...] Thursday morning there I made my stay,
[...]d then I went plaine Dunstable high-way.
[...] very heart with drought me thought did shrink,
[...]ent twelue miles, and no one bade me drinke.
Which made me call to minde, that instant time,
That Drunkennes was a most sinfull crime.
When 'Pud [...]le-hill I footed downe, and past
A mile from thence, I found a Hedge at last.
There stroke we sayle, our [...]con, Cheese, and Bread,
We drew like Fidlers, and like Farmers fed,
And whilst two houres we there did take our case,
My Nag made shift to mump greene Pulse & Pease.
Thus we our hungry stomacks did supply,
And dranke the water of a Brooke hard by.
Away t'ward Hockley in the hole, we make,
When straight a Horsman did me ouer-take,
Who knew me, & would faine haue giuen me Coine.
I said, my Bonds did me from Coyne inioyne,
I thank'd and prayd him to put vp his Chinke,
And willingly I wisnt it drownd in drinke.
Away rode he, but like an honest man,
I found at Hockley standing at the Swan,
A formall Tapster, with a [...]ugge and glasse,
Who did arest me: I most writing was
To try the Action, and straight put in bale,
My fees were paid before, with sixe-pence Ale.
To quit this kindnesse, I most willing am,
The man that paid for all, his name is Dam,
At the Greene-dragon, against Grayes-Inne gate,
He liues in good repute, and honest state.
I foreward went in this my roauing race,
To Stony Stratford I toward night did pace.
My minde was fixed through the Towne to passe,
To finde some lodging in the Hay or Grasse,
Bu [...] at the Queenes-Armes, from the window there,
A comfortable voyce I chanc'd to heare,
Call Taylor, Taylor, and be hang'd come hither,
I look'd for small intreaty and went thither,
There were some friends, which I was glad to see
Who knew my Iourney; lodg'd, and boorded me.
On Friday morne, as I would take my way,
My friendly Host intreated me to stay,
Because it rain'd, he told me I should haue
Meate, Drinke, & Horse-meate and not pay or craue.
I thank'd him, and for's loue remaine his debter,
But if I liue, I will requite him better.
(From Stony Stratford) the way hard with stones,
Did founder me, and vexe me to the bones.
In blustring weather, both for winde and raine,
Through Tocetter I trotted with much paine.
Two miles from thence, we sat vs downe & dinde,
Well bulwark'd by a hedge, from raine and winde.
We hauing fed, away incontinent,
With weary pace toward Dauentry we went.
Foure miles short of it, one o're-tooke me there,
And told me he would leaue a Iugge of Beere,
At Dauentry at the Horse-shoe for my vse.
I thought it no good manners to refuse,
But thank'd him, for his kinde vnasked gift,
Whilst I was lame as scarce a leg could lift,
[Page 124]Came limping after to that stony Towne,
Whose hard streets made me almost halt right down.
There had my friend perform'd the words he said,
And at the doore a Iugge of liquor staide,
The folkes were all inform'd, before I came,
How, and wherefore my iourney I did frame,
Which caused mine Hostesse from her doore come out,
(Hauing a great Wart rampant on her snowt.)
The Tapsters, Hostlers, one another call,
The Chamberlaines with admiration all,
Were fild with wonder, more then wonderfull,
As if some Monster sent from the Mogull,
Some Elephant from Africke, I had beene,
Or some strange beast from th' Amazonian Queene.
As Buzzards, Widgions, Woodcocks, & such fowle,
Doe gaze and wonder at the broad-fac'd Owle,
So did these brainelesse Asses, all-amaz'd,
With admirable Non sence talk'd and gaz'd.
They knew my state (although not told by me)
That I could scarcely goe, they all could see,
They dranke of my Beere, that to me was giuen,
But gaue me not a drop to make all euen,
And that which in my minde was most amisse,
My Hostesse she stood by and saw all this,
Had she but said, Come neere the house, my friend;
For this day here shall be your Iourneyes end,
Then had she done the thing which did not,
And I in kinder wordes had paid the shor.
I doe intreat my friends, (as I haue some)
If they to Dauentry doe chance to come,
That they will balke that Inne; or if by chance,
Or accident into that house they glance,
Kinde Gentlemen, as they by you reape profit,
My Hostesse care of me, pray tell her of it.
Yet doe not neither: Lodge there when you will,
You for your money shall be welcome still.
From thence that night, although my ibones were sore,
I made a shift to hobble seu'n miles more [...],
The way to Dunchurch, foule with dirt and mire,
Able, I thinke, both man and horse to tire.
On Dunsmore Heath, a hedge doth there enclose
Grounds, on the right hand, there I did repose.
Wits whetstone, want, there made vs quickly Iarn,
With kniues to cut down Rushes, & greene Feame,
Of which we made a field-bed in the field,
Which sleepe, and rest, and much content did yeeld.
There with my mother Earth, I thought it fit
To lodge, and yet no Incest did commit:
My bed was Curtain'd with good wholesome ayres,
And being weary, I went vp no stayres:
The skie my Canopy, bright Phebe shinde,
Sweet bawling Zepbiru [...] breath'd gentle winde,
In heau'ns Star-Chamber I did lodge that night,
Ten thousand Starres, me to my bed did light;
There baracadoed with a bancke lay wee
Below the lofty branches of a tree,
There my bed-fellowes and companions were,
My Man, my Horse, a Bull, foure Cowes, two St [...]
But yet for all this most confused rowt,
We had no bed-staues, yet we fell not out.
Thus Nature, like an ancient free Vpholster,
Did furnish vs with bedstead, bed, and bolster;
And the kind skies, (for which high heau'n be t [...] [...])
Allow'd vs a large Couering and a Blanket:
Auroras face gan light our lodging darke,
We arose and mounted, with the mounting Larke,
Through plashes puddles, thicke, thinne, wet & dry
I traue [...]'d to the Citie Couentry.
There Master Doctor Holland caus'd me stay
The day of Saturne; and the Sabbath day.
Most friendly welcome, he did me afford,
I was so entertain'd at bed and boord,
Which as I dare not bragge how much it was,
I dare not be ingrate and let it passe,
But with thankes many I remember it,
(Instead of his good deedes) in words and wn [...]
He vs'd me like his sonne, more then a friend,
And he on Munday his commends did send
To Newhall, where a Gentleman did dwell,
Who by his name is hight Sacheuerell.
The Tuesday Iulyes one and twentieth day,
I to the Citie Lichfield tooke my way,
At Sutton Coffill with some friends I met,
And much adoe I had from thence to get,
There I was almost put vnto my trumps,
My Horses shooes were worne as thinne as pu [...]
But nob [...] Vnlean; a mad smuggy Smith,
All reparations me did furnish with.
The shooes were well remou'd, my Palsrey shod,
And he referr'd the payment vnto God.
I found a friend, when I to Lichfield came,
A Ioyner, and Iohn Piddock is his name,
He made me welcome, for he knew my iaunt,
And he did furnish me with good prouant:
He offred me some money, I refus'd it,
And so I tooke my leaue, with thankes excus'd it.
That Wednesday, I a weary way did passe,
Raine, wind, stones, dirt, and dabbling dewie gr [...]
With here and there a pelting scatter'd village,
Which yeelded me no charity, or pillage:
For all the day, nor yet the night that followed.
One drop of drinke I'm sure my gullet swallowed.
At night I came t' a stony Towne call'd Stone.
Where I knew none, nor was I knowne of none:
I therefore through the streets held on my pace,
Some two miles farther to some resting place:
At last I spide a meddow-newly mowde,
The hay was rotten, the ground halfe o're-flow [...]
We made a breach, and entred horse and man,
There our pauillion, we to pitch began,
Which we erected with greene Broome and H [...]
T'expell the cold, and keepe the raine away;
[Page 125]The skie all muffled in a cloud gan lowre,
And presently there fell a mighty showre,
Which without intermission downe did powre,
From ten a night, vntill the mornings Foure.
We all that time close in our couch did lye,
Which being well compacted kept vs dry.
The worst was, we did neither sup nor sleepe,
And so a temperate dyet we did keepe.
The morning all enrob'd in drifling fogges,
We being as ready as we had bin dogges:
We neede not stand vpon long ready making,
But gaping stretching, & our eares well sl [...]aking:
And for I found my Host and Hoslesse kinde,
[...] like a true man left my sheetes behinde.
That Thrusday morne, my weary course I fram'd,
Vnto a Towne that is Newcastle nam'd,
(Not that Newcastle standing vpon Tine)
But this Towne scituation doth cons [...]e
Neere Ches [...]ire, in the famous County Stafford,
And for their loue, lowe them not a straw for't;
But now my versing Muse craues some repose,
And whilst she sleeps [...]e spowt a little prose.

In this Towne of Newcastle, I oner-tooke [...]n Hostler, and I asked him what the next Towne was called, that was in my way toward Lancaster, he holding the end of a riding rod in his mouth, as if it had beene a Fluit, piped me this answer and said, Talke on the hill; I asked him againe what he said, Talke on the hill: I de­manded the third time, and the third time he answered me as he did before, Ialke on the hill. I began to grow cholericke, and asked him why he could not talke, or tell me my way as well there as on the hill; at last I was resolued, that the next. Towne was foure miles off mee, and that the name of it was, Talke on the hill. I had not traueled aboue two miles farther: but my last nights supper (which was as much as nothing) my minde being informed of it by my stomacke. I made a vertue of necessity, and went to breakefast in the Sunne: I haue [...]ared better at three Sunnes many times before now, in Aldersgate-Streete, Criplegate, and new Fish­street, but here is the oddes, at those Sunnes they will come vpon a man with a [...]auerne bill as sharp cutting as a Taylers Bill of Items: A Watch-mans hill, or a Welch-hooke falls not halfe to heauy vpon a man; besides most of the [...]intners haue the law in their own hands, and [...]aue all their Actions, Cases, Bills of Debt, and such reckonings tried at their owne Barres: from whence there is no appeale. But leauing these impertinencies, in the materiall Sunne­shine, we eate a substantiall dinner, & like mise­rable Guests we did budget vp the reuersions.

And now with sleep my Muse hath eas'd her braine,
I'le turne my stile from prose, to verse againe.
That which we could not haue, we freely spar'd,
And wanting drinke, most soberly we far'd.
We had great store of sowle (but 'twas foule way)
And kindly euery step entreates me stay,
The clammy clay sometimes my heeles would trip,
One foot went foreward, th'other backe would slip.
This weary day, when I had almost pait,
I came vnto Sir Vrian Legh's at last,
At [...]dlington, neere Mackifield he doth dwell,
Belou'd respected, and reputed well.
Through his great loue, my stay with him was fixt,
From Thursday night, till noone on Monday next,
At his owne table I did daily eate,
Where at may be suppos'd, did want no meat,
He would haue giu'n me gold or siluer either,
But I with many thankes, receiued neither.
And thus much without slattery I dare sweare;
He is a Knight beloued farre and necre.
First he's beloued of his God aboue,
(which loue, he loues to keep, beyond all loue)
Next with a Wife and Children he is blest;
Each hauing Gods feare planted in their brest.
With faire Demaines, Reuennue of good Lands.
He's fairely blest by the Almighties; hands.
And as he's happy in these outward things,
So from his inward mind continuall springs
Fruits of deuotion. dedes of Piety,
Good hospitable workes of Charity,
Iust in his Actions, constant in his word,
And one that wonne his honour with the sword.
Hee's no Carranto, Capring, Carpet Knight,
But he knowes when, and how to speake or fight.
I cannot flatter him say what I can,
He's euery way a comple [...] Gentleman.
I write not this, for what he did to me,
But what mine eares, and eyes did heare and see,
Nor doe I pen this to enlarge his fame,
But to make others imitate the fame.
For like a Trumpet were I pleasd to blow,
I would his worthy worth more amply show,
But I already feare haue beene too bold.
And craue his pardon, me excusd to hold.
Thankes to his Sonnes and seruants euery one,
Both males and females all, excepting none.
To beare a letter he did me require,
Neere Manchester, vnto a good Esquire:
[Page 126]His kinsman Edmond Prestwitch, he ordain'd,
That I was at Manchester entertain'd
Two nights, and one day, ere we thence could passe,
For men & horse, rost, boyl'd, and oates, and grasse:
This Gentleman not onely gaue harbor,
But in the morning sent to me his Barbor,
Who lau'd, and shau'd me, still I spar'd my purse,
Yet sure he left me many a haire the worse.
But in conclusion, when his worke was ended,
His [...]lasse inform'd, my face was much amended.
And for the kindnesse he to me did show,
God grant his Customers beards faster grow,
That though the time of yeere be deare or cheape,
From fruitfull faces he may mowe and reape.
Then came a Smith, with shooes, & Tooth & Nayle,
He searchd my horse hoou [...]s, mēding what did faile,
Yet this I note my Nag, through stones and dirt,
Did shift shooes twice, ere I did shift one shirt:
Can these kind things be in obliuion hid?
No, Master Prestwitch, this and much more did,
His friendship, did command and freely gaue
All before writ, and more then I durst craue.
But leauing him a little, I must tell,
How men of Manchester did vse me well,
Their loues they on the tenter-hookes did racke,
Rost, boyld, bak'd, too too much, white, claret, sacke,
Nothing they thought too heauy or too hot,
Canne follow'd Canne, and Pot succeeded Pot,
That what they could do, all they though too little,
Striuing in loue the Traueller to whittle.
We went into the house of one Iohn Pinners,
(A man that liues amongst a crue of sinners)
And there eight seuerall sorts of Ale we had,
All able to make one starke drunke or mad.
But I with courage brauely flinched not,
And gaue the Towne leaue to discharge the shot.
We had at one time set vpon the Table,
Good Ale of Hisope, 'twas no Esope fable:
Then had we Ale of Sage, and Ale of Malt,
And Ale of Woorme-wood, that could make one hair,
With Ale of Rosemary, and Bettony,
And two Ales more, or else I needs must lye.
But to conclude this drinking Alye tale,
We had a sort of Ale, called Scuruy Ale.
Thus all these men, at their owne charge & cost,
Did striue whose loue should be expressed most.
And farther to declare their boundlesse loues,
They saw I wanted, and they gaue me Gloues,
In deed, and very deed, their loues were such,
That in their praise I cannot write too much;
They merit more than I haue here compil'd,
I lodged at the Eagle and the Child,
Whereas my Hostesse, (a good ancient woman)
Did entertaine me with respect, not common.
She caus'd my Linnen, Shirts, and Bands be washt,
And on my way she caus'd me be refresht,
She gaue me twelue silke points, she gaue me B [...]
Which by me much refused, at last was taken,
In troath she prou'd a mother vnto me,
For which, I euermore will thankefull be.
But when to minde these kindnesses I call,
Kinde Master Prestwitch Author is of all,
And yet Sir Vrian Loigh's good Commendation,
Was the maine ground of this my Recreation.
From both of them, there what I had, I had,
Or else my entertainment had bin bad.
O all you worthy men of Manchester,
(True bred bloods of the County Lancaster)
When I forget what you to me haue done,
Then let me head-long to confusion runne.
To Noble Master Prestwitch I must giue
Thankes, vpon thankes, as long as I doe liue,
His loue was such, I ne'r can pay the score,
He farre surpassed all that went before,
A horse and man he sent, with boundlesse bounty,
To bring me quite through Lancaster large C [...]
Which I well know is fifty miles at large,
And he defrayed all the cost and charge.
This vnlook'd pleasure, was to me such pleasure,
That I can ne'r expresse my thankes with measure.
So Mistresse Saracoale, Hostesse kinde,
And Manchester with thankes I left behinde.
The Wednesday being Iulyes twenty nine,
My Iourney [...] to Freston did confine,
All the day long it rained but one showre,
Which from the Morning to the Eue'n did powre,
And I, before to Preston I could get,
Was sowsd, and pickeld both with raine and swe [...]
But there I was supply'd with fire and food,
And any thing I wanted sweet and good.
There, at the Hinde, kinde Master Hinde mine [...],
Kept a good table, bak'd and boyld, and rost,
There Wednesday, Thursday, Friday I did stay,
And hardly got from thence on Saturday.
Vnto my Lodging often did repaire,
Kinde Master Thomas Banister, the Mayer,
Who is of worship, and of good respect,
And in his charge discreet and circumspect.
For I protest to God I neuer saw,
A Towne more wisely Gouern'd by the Law.
They told me when my Soueraigne there was last,
That one mans rashnes seem [...]d to giue distast.
It grieu'd them all, but when at last they found,
His Maiestie was pleasd, their ioyes were crown'd,
He knew, the fairest Garden hath some weedes,
He did accept their kinde intents, for deedes:
One man there was, that with his zeale too hot,
And furious haste, himselfe much ouer-shot.
But what man is so foolish, that desires
To get good fruit from thistles, thornes and bry [...]
Thus much I thought good to demonstrate here,
Because I saw how much they grieued were;
[Page 127]That any way, the least part of offence,
Should make them seeme offensiue to their Prince.
Thus three nights was I staid and le dg'd in Preston,
And saw nothing ridiculous to lest on,
Much cost and charge the Mayor vpon me spent,
And on my way two miles, with me he went,
There (by good chance) I did more friendship get,
The vnder Shriefe of Luncashire we met,
A Gentleman that lou'd, and knew me well,
And one whose bounteous mind doth beare the bell.
There, as if I had bin a noted thiefe,
The Mayor deliuered me vnto the Shriefe.
The Shriefes authority did much preuaile,
He sent me vnto one that kept the layle.
Thus I perambuling, poore Iohn Taylor,
Was giu'n from Mayor to Shriefe, from Shriefe to Taylor,
The Taylor kept an Inae, good beds, good cheere,
Where paying nothing, I found nothing deere:
For the vnder Shriefe kind Master C [...]ill nam'd,
(A man for house-keeping renown'd and fam'd)
Did cause the Towne of Lancaster afford
Me welcome, as if I had beene a Lord.
And 'tis reported, that for daily bounty,
His mate can scarce be found in all that County.
Th' extremes of mizer, or of prodigall,
He shunnes, and liues discreet and riberall,
His wiues minde, and his owne are one, so fixt,
That Argus eyes could see no oddes betwixt,
And sure the difference, (if there difference be)
Is who shall doe most good, or he, or she.
Poore folks report, that for relieuing them,
He and his wife, are each of them a lem;
Atth'Inne, and at his house two nights I staide,
And what was to be paid, I know he paide;
If nothing of their kindnesse I had wrote,
Ingratefull me the world might iustly note:
Had I declar'd all I did heare, and see,
For a great flatt'rer then I deemd should be,
Him and his wife, and modest daughter Besse,
With Earth, and Heau'ns felicity, God blesse.
Two dayes a man of his, at his command,
Did guide me to the midst of Westmerland,
And my Conductor with a liberall fist,
To keepe me moist, scarce any Alehouse mist.
The fourth of August (weary, halt, and lame)
We in the darke, t'a Towne call'd Sebder came,
There Master Borrowd, my kind honest Host,
Vpon me did bestow vnasked cost.
The next day I held on my iourney still,
Sixe miles vnto a place call'd Carling hill,
Where Master Edmond Branthwaite doth recide,
Who made me welcome, with my man and guide.
Our entertainement, and our fare was such,
It might haue satisfied our betters much;
Yet all too little was, his kind heart thought,
And fiue miles on my way himselfe me brought,
At Orton he, I, and my man did dine,
With Master Corney a good t [...] D [...]e,
And surely Master Branthwait's well beleu'd,
His firme integrity is much approu'd:
His good effects, doe make him still affected
Of God and good men, (with regard) respected:
He sent his man with me, o're Date and Downe,
Who lodg'd, and boorded me at Peereth Towne,
And such good cheere, and bedding there I had,
That nothing, (but my weary selfe) was bad;
There a fresh man, (I know not for whose sake)
With me a iourney would to Carlile make:
But from that Citie, about two miles wide,
Good Sir Iohn Dolston lodg'd me and my guide.
Of all the Gentlemen in Englands bounds,
His house is neerest to the Scottish grounds,
And Fame proclaimes him, farre and neere, aloud,
He's free from being cou [...]tous, or proud:
His sonne Sir George, most affable, and kinde,
His fathers image, both in forme and minde,
On Saturday to Carlile both did ride.
Where (by their loues and leaues) I did abide,
Where of good entertainment I found store,
From one that was the Mayor the yeere before,
His name is Master Adam Robinson,
I the last English friendship with him won.
He ( grates) * found a guide to bring me through,
From Carlile to the Citie Eudenborough:
This was a helpe, that was a helpe alone,
Of all my helps inferiour vnto none.
Eight miles from Carlile runs a little Riuer,
Which Englands bounds, from Scotlands groūds doth seuer,
*Without Horse, Bridge, or Boate, I o're did get
On foot, I went, yet scarce my shooes did wet.
I being come to this long-look'd-for land,
Did marke, remarke, note, renote, viewd and scand:
And I saw nothing that could change my will,
But that I thought my selfe in England still.
The Kingdomes are so neerely ioyn'd and fixt,
There scarcely went a paire of Sheares betwixt;
There I saw skie aboue, and earth below,
And as in England, there the Sunne did show:
The hills with Sheepe repleate, with corne the dale,
*And many a cottage yeelded good Scott'sh Ale;
This County (Annadale) in former times,
Was the curst climate of rebellious crimes:
For Cumberland and it, both Kingdomes borders,
Were euer ordred, by their owne disorders,
Such sharking, shifting, cutting throats, & thiouing,
Each taking pleasure in th' others grieuing:
And many times he that had wealth to night,
Was by the morrow morning beggerd quite:
[Page 128]To many yeeres this pell-mell fury lasted,
That all these borders were quite ipoyl'd & wasted,
Confusion, huily-burly raign'd and rend'd,
The Churches with the lowly ground were leueld;
All memorable monuments defac'd,
All places of defence o'rethrewne and rac'd.
That who so then did in the borders dwell,
Liu'd little happier then those in hell.
But since the all-disposing God of heauen.
Hath these two Kingdomes to one Monarch giuen,
Blest peace, and plenty on them both hath showr'd,
Exile, and hanging hath the theeues deuowr'd,
That now each subiect may securely sleepe,
His Sheep & Neate, the black the white doth keepe,
For now those Crownes are both in one combinde,
Those former borders, that each one confinde,
Appeares to me (as I doe vnderstand)
To be almost the Center of the Land,
This was a blessed heauen expounded riddle,
To thrust great Kingdomes skirts into the middle.
Long may the instrumentall cause suruiue,
From him and his, succession still deriue
True heires vnto his vertues, and his Throane,
That these two Kingdomes euer may be one [...].
This County of all Scotland is most poore,
By reason of the outrages before,
Yet mighty store of Corne I saw there growe,
And as good grasse as euer man did mowe:
And as that day I twenty miles did passe,
I saw eleuen hundred Neat at grasse,
By which may be coniectur'd at the least,
That there was sustenance for man and beast.
And in the Kingdome I haue truly scand,
There's many worser parts, are bettor mand,
For in the time that theeuing was in vre.
The Gentles fled to places more secure.
And left the poorer sorte, t'abide the paine,
Whilest they could ne'r finde time to turne againe.
That Shire of Gentlemen is scarce and dainty,
Yet there's reliefe in great aboundance plenty,
Twixt it and England, little oddes I see,
They eate, and liue, and strong and able bee,
So much in Verse, and now Ile change my stile,
And seriously I'le write in Prose a while.

To the purpose then: my first nights lod­ging in Scotland was at a place called Mophot, which they say, is thirty miles from Carlile, but I suppose them to be longer then forty of such miles as are betwixt London and Saint Al­banes, (but indeed the Scots doe allow al­most as large measure of their miles, as they doe of their drinke, for an English Gallon ei­ther of Ale or Wine, is but their quart, and one Scottish mile (now and then, may well stand for a mile and a halfe or two English) but howsoeuer short or long, I found that dayes iourney the weariest that euer I footed; and at night being come to the Towne, I found good ordinary Countrey entertain­ment; my fare and my lodging was sweet and good, and might haue serued a farre better man then my selfe, although my selfe haue had many times better: but this is to be noted, that though it rained not all the day, yet it was my fortune to be well wet twise, for I waded ouer a great riuer called Eske in the morning, some­what more then foure miles distance from Cu­lile in England, and at night within two miles of my lodging; I was faine to wade ouer the Riuer of Annan in Scotland, from which Riuer the County of Annandale, hath it's name, And whilst I waded on foot, my man was mounted on horse-backe [...], like the George without the Dragon. But the next morning, I arose and left Mophot behind me, and that day I tra­ueled twenty one miles to a sory Village cal­led Blithe, but I was blithe my selfe to come to any place of harbour or succour, for since I was borne, I neuer was so weary, or so neere being dead with extreme trauell; I was foun­derd and refounderd of all foure, and for my better comfort, I came so late, that I must lodge without doores all night, or else in a poore house where the good-wife lay in Child-bed, her husband being from home, her owne seruant mayde being her nurse. A Creature naturally compacted, and artificial­ly adorned with an incomparable homelines; but as things were I must either take or leaue, and necessity made mee enter, where we gat Egges and Ale by measure and by tale. At last to bed I went, my man lying on the floore by mee, where in the night there were Pid­geons did very bountifully mute in his face: the day being no sooner come, and hauing but fifteene miles to Edenborough, mounted vpon my ten toes, and began first to hobble, and after to amble, and so being warme, I fell to pace by degrees; all the way passing tho­row a fertill Countrey for Corne and Cattle: and about two of the clocke in the afternoone [Page 129] that Wednesday, being the thirteenth of August, and the day of Clare the Virgin (the signe being in Virgo) the Moone foure dayes [...]old, the wind at West, I came to take rest, at the wished, long expected, ancient famous City of Edenborough, which I entred like Pierce pennilesse, altogether monyles, but I thanke God, not friendlesse; for being there, for the time of my stay, I might borrow, (if any man would lend) spend it I could get, begge if I had the impudence, and steale, if I durst ad­uenture the price of a hanging, but my pur­pose was to house my horse, and to suffer him and my apparell to lye in durance, or Lauen­der in stead of Litter, till such time as I could meete with some valiant friend, that would desperately disburse.

Walking thus downe the street, (my body being tyred with trauell, and my minde atty­red with moody, muddy, Moore-ditch me­lancholly) my Contemplation did deuoutly pray, that I might meete one or other to prey vpon, being willing to take any slender ac­quaintance of any map whatsoeuer, viewing, and circumviewing euery mans face I met, as if I meant to drawe his picture, but all my ac­quaintance was Nonest Inuentus, (pardon me Reader, that Latine is none of mine owne, I sweare by Priscians Parteranion, an oath which I haue ignorantly broken many times.) At last I resolu'd, that the next Gentleman that I met withall, should be acquaintance whether hee would or no: and presently fixing mine eyes vpon a Gentleman-like obiect, I looked on him, as if I would suruay something through him, and make him my perspectiue: and hee much musing at my gazing, and I much ga­zing at his musing, at last he crost the way and made toward me, and then I made downe the street from him, leauing to encounter with my man, who came after me leading my horse, whom he thus accosted. My friend (quoth he) doth yonder Gentleman, (mea­ning me) know me, that he lookes so wistly on me? Truely Sir, said my man, I thinke not, but my Matter is a stranger come from London, and would gladly meete some acquaintance to direct him where he may haue lodging and horse-meate. Presently the Gentleman, (being of a generous disposition) ouer-tooke me with vnexpected and vndeserued courtesie, brought me to a lodging, and caused my horse to bee put into his owne stable, whilest we discour­sing ouer a pinte of Spanish, I related as much English to him, as made him lend me tenne shillings, (his name was Master Iohn Maxwell) which money I am sure was the first that I han­dled after I came from out the walls of London: but hauing rested two houres and refreshed my selfe, the Gentleman and I walked to see the City and the Castle, which as my poore vnable and vnworthy pen can, I will truly de­scribe.

The Castle on a loftie Rocke is so strongly grounded, bounded, and founded, that by force of man it can neuer be confounded; the Foundation and Walls are vnpenetrable, the Rampiers impregnable, the Bulwarkes inuin­cible, no way but one to it is or can be possible to be made passable. In a word, I haue seene many Straights and Fortresses, in Germany, the Netherlands, Spaipe, and England, but they must all giue place to this vnconquered Castle, both for strength and scituation.

Amongst the many memorable things which I was shewed there, I noted especially a great peece of Ordnance of Iron, it is not for batte­rie, but it will serue to defend a breach, or to tosse balies of wilde-fire against any that should assaile or assault the Castle; it lyes now dismonted. And it is so great within, that it was told me that a Childe was once gotten there: but I, to make tryall crept into it, lying on my backe, and I am sure there was roome enough and spare for a greater then my selfe.

So leauing the Castle, as it is both defen­siue against any opposition, and magnificke for lodging and receite, I descended lower to the City, wherein I obserued the fairest and goodliest streete that euer mine eyes beheld, for I did neuer see or heare of a street of that length, (which is halfe an English mile from the Castle to a faire Port which they call the Neather-bow) and from that Port, the streete which they call the Kem [...]ate is one quarter of a mile more, downe to the Kings Palace, cal­led [Page 130] Holy-rood-House, the buildings on each side of the way being all of squared stone, fiue, six, and seuen stories high, and many by-Lanes and Closes on each side of the way, wherein are Gentlemens houses, much fairer then the buildings in the high-street, for in the high­street the Marchants and Tradesmen do dwell, but the Gentlemens mansions and goodliest houses are obscurely fonnded in the aforesaid Lanes: the Walles are eight or tenne foote thicke, exceeding strong, not built for a day, a weeke, or a moneth, or a yeere; but from Antiquitie to Posteritie, for many Ages; There I found entertainement beyond my ex­pectation or merit, and there is fish, flesh, bread and fruit, in such variety, that I thinke I may offencelesse call it super fluity, or saciety. The worst was, that Wine and Ale was so scarce, and the people there such Mizers of it, that euery night before I went to bed, if any man had asked me a ciuill question, all the wit in my head could not haue made him a so­ber answer.

I was at his Maiesties Palace, a stately and Princely seate, wherein I saw a sumptuous Chappell, most richly adorned with all appur­tenances belonging to so sacred a place, or so Royall an owner. In the inner Court, I saw the Kings Armes cunningly carued in stone, and fixed ouer a doore aloft on the wall, the red Lyon being the Crest, ouer which was writ­ten this inscription in Latine, ‘Nobis hat inu [...]cta miserunt, 106. proaui.’ I enquired what the English of it was? it was told me as followeth, which I thought worthy to be recorded. ‘106. Fore-fathers haue left this to vs vnchnquered.’ This is a worthy and memorable Motto, and I thinke few kingdomes or none in the world can truly write the like, that notwithstanding so many inroades, incursions, attemps, as­saults, Ciuill warres, and forraigne hostili­ties, bloody battels, and mighty foughten fields, that maugre the strength and policy of enemies, that Royall Crowne and Scepter hath from one hundred and seuen descents, kept still vnconquered, and by the power of the King of Kings (through the grace of the Prince of peace) is now left peacefully to our peacefull King, whom long in blessed peace, the God of peace defend and gouerne.

But once more, a word or two of E [...] rough, although I haue scarcely giuent it that due which belongs vnto it, for their lofty and stately buildings, and for their faire and spa­cious streete, yet my minde perswades me that they in former ages that first founded that Ci­tie did not so well in that they built it in so di [...] commodious a place; for the Sea, and all na­uigable riuers being the chiefe meanes for the enriching of Townes and Cities, by the reason of Traffique with forraine Nations, with ex­portation, transportation, and receite of va­riety of Marchandizing; so this Citie had it beene built but one mile lower on the Sea fide, I doubt not but it had long before this beene comparable to many a one of our grea­test Townes and Cities in Europe, both for spa­ciousnesse of bounds, Port, state, and riches. It is said, that King Iames the fifth (of famous memory) did graciously offer to purchase for them, and to bestow vpon them freely, cer­taine low and pleasant grounds a mile from them on the Sea shore, with these conditions, that they should pull downe their Citie, and build it in that more commodious place, but the Citizens refused it: and so now it is like (for me), to stand where it doth, for I doubt such another profer of remouall will not bee presented to them, till two dayes after the Faire.

Now haue with you for Leeth, whereto I no sooner came, but I was well entertained by Master Barnard Lindsay, one of the Groomes of his Maiesties Bed-chamber, hee knew my estate was not guilty, because I brought guilt with me (more then my sins, and they would not passe for current there) hee therefore did replenish the vaustity of my empty purse, & discharged a piece at mec with two bullets of gold, each being in value worth eleuen shil­lings white money: and I was credibly infor­med, that within the compasse of one yeere, there was shipped away from that onely Port of Leeth, foure score thousand Boles of Wheat, Oates, and Barley into Spaine, France, and other fortaine parts, and euery Bole containes [Page 131] the measure of foure English bushels, so that from Leeth onely hath beene transported three hundred and twenty thousand bushels of Corne; besides some hath beene shipped away from Saint Andrewes, from Dundee, Aberdeene, Desert, Kirkady, Kinghorne; Burnt-Iland, Dunbar, and other portable Townes, which makes me to wonder that a Kingdome so populous as it is, should neuerthelesse sell so much bread­ [...]orne beyond the Seas, and yet to haue more then sufficient for themselues.

So I hauing viewed the Hauen and Towne of Leeth, tooke a passage Boate to see the new [...]rondrous Well, to which many a one that is not well, comes farre and neere in hope to be made well: indeed I did heare that it had done much good, and that it hath a rare operation to expell or kill diuers maladies; as to prouoke appetite, to helpe much for the auoyding of the grauell in the bladder, to cure sore eyes, and old vlcers, with many other vertues which it hath, but I (through the mercy of God, hauing no need of it, did make no great inquisition what it had done, but for nouelty I dranke of it, and I found the taste to be more pleasant then any other water, sweet almost as milke, yet as cleare as cristall, and I did ob­serue, that though a man did drinke a quart, a pottle, or as much as his belly could con­taine, yet it neuer offended or lay heauy vpon the stomacke, no more then if one had dranke but a pint or a small quantity.

I went two miles from it to a Towne called Burnt-Iland, where I found many of my espe­ciall good friends, as Master Robert [...]ay, one of the Groomes of his Maiesties Bed-chamber, Master Dauid Drummend, one of his Gentle­men Pentioners, Master Iames Acmooty, one of the Groomes of the Priuie Chamber, Cap­taine Muray, Sir Henry Witherington Knight, Captaine Iyrie, and diuers others: and there Master Hay, Master Drummond, and the good olde Captaine Murray did very bountifully furnish mee with gold for my expences, but I being at dinner with those aforesaid Gentle­men, as we were discoursing, there befell a strange accident, which I thinke worth the re­lating.

I know not vpon what occasion they began to talke of being at Sea in former times, and I (amongst the rest) said, I was at the taking of [...]a [...]es: whereto an English Gentleman replyed, that hee was the next good voyage after at the Ilands: I answered him that I was there also. He demanded in what ship I was? I tolde him in the Rainebowe of the Queenes: why (quoth he) doe you not know me? I was in the same ship, and my name is Witherington.

Sir, said I, I do remember the name well, but by reason that it is neere two and twenty yeers since I saw you, I may well forget the know­ledge of you. Well said he, if you were in that ship, I pray you tell me some remarkable to­ken that happened in the voyage, whereupon I told him two or three tokens; which he did know to be true. Nay then, said I, I will tell you another which (perhaps) you haue not forgotten; as our ship and the rest of the fleet did ride at Anchor at the Ile of Flores (one of the Iles of the Azores) there were some foure­teene men and boyes of our ship, that for no­uelty would goe ashore, and see what fruit the Iland did beare, and what entertainment it would yeeld vs: so being landed, we went vp and downe and could finde nothing but stones, heath and mosse, and wee expected Oranges, Limonds, Figges, Muske-millions, and Potatoes: in the meane space the wind did blow so stiffe, and the Sea was so extreme rough, that our Ship-boate could not come to the land to fetch vs, for feare she should bee beaten in pieces against the rockes: this conti­nued fiue dayes, so that we were almost fami­shed for want of food: but at last (I squandring vp and downe) by the prouidence of God I hapned into a Caue or poore habitation, where I found fifteene loaues of bread, each of the quantity of a penny loafe in England, I hauing a valiant stomacke of the age of almost of a hundred and twenty houres breeding, fell to, and ate two loaues and neuer said grace: and as I was about to make a Horse-loafe of the third loafe, I did put twelue of them into my breeches, and my sleeues, and so went mum­bling out of t [...]e Caue, leaning my backe a­gainst a Tree, when vpon the sudden a Gen­tleman [Page 132] came to me, and said, Friend, what are you eating? Bread, (quoth I.) For Gods sake said he, giue me some. With that, I put my hand into my breech, (being my best pantrey) and I gaue him a Loafe, which hee receiued with many thankes, and said, that if euer hee could requite it, he would.

I had no sooner told this tale, but Sir Henry Witherington did acknowledge himselfe to bee the man that I had giuen the Loafe vnto two and twenty yeeres before, where I found the Prouerbe true, that men haue more priuiledge then mountaines in meeting.

In what great measure hee did requite so small a courtesie, I wi [...] relate in this following discourse in my Returne through Northumber­land: So leauing my man at the Town of Burnt Iland, I tolde him, I would but goe to Ster­ling, and see the Castle there, and withall to see my honourable friends the Earle of Marr, and Sir William Murray Knight, Lord of Aber­carny, and that I would returne within two dayes at the most: But it fell out quite contra­ry; for it was fine and thirtie dayes before I could get backe againe out of these Noble mens company. The whole progres of my tra­uell with them, and the cause of my stay, I'can­not with gratefulnesse omit; and thus it was.

A worthy Gentleman named Master Iohn Fenton, did bring me on my way sixe miles to Dumfermling, where I was well entertained, and lodged at Master Iohn Gibb his house, one of the Groomes of his Maiesties Bed chamber, and I thinke the oldest Seruant the King hath: withall, I was well entertained there by Ma­ster Crighton at his owne house, who went with me, and shewed me the Queenes Palace; (a delicate & Princely Mansion) withall I saw the ruines of an ancient & stately built Abey, with faire gardens, orchards, medowes belonging to the Palace: all which with faire & goodly reue­nues by the suppression of the Abbey, were an­nexed to the Crowne. There also I saw a very faire Church, which though it bee now very large and spacious, [...]yet it hath in former times beene much larger. But I taking my leaue of Dumfermling, would needs goe and see the truely Noble Knight Sir George Bruce, at a Towne called the Coor as: there he made m [...] right welcome, both with varietie of fare, and after all, hee commanded three of his men [...]s direct mee to see his most admirable Cole mines; which (if man can or could worke wonders) is a wonder: for my selfe neither in any trauels that I haue beene in, nor any Hi­story that I haue read, or any Discourse that I haue heard, did neuer see, read, or heare of any worke of man that might parallell or bee equiualent with this vnfellowed and vnm [...] ­chable work: & though all I can say of it, can­not describe it according to the worthines of his vigilant industry, that was both the occa­sion, Inuentor, & Maintainer of it: yet rather then the memory of so rare an Enterprise, and so accomplisht a profit to the Common-wealth shall bee raked and smothered in the dust of obliuion, I will giue a little touch at the descri­ption of it, although I amongst Writers, as like he that worst may hold the candle.

The Mine hath two wayes into it, the one by sea and the other by land; but a man may goe into it by land, and returne the same way if he please, and so he may enter into it by sea, and by sea he may come forth of it: but I [...] varieties sake went in by sea, and out by land. Now men may obiect, how can a man goe in­to a Mine, the entrance of it being into the sea, but that the Sea will follow him, and so drown the Mine? To which obiection thus I answer, That at low water, the sea being ebd away, and a great part of the sand bare; vpon this same sand (being mixed with rockes and cragges) did the Master of this great worke build a round circular frame of stone, very thicke, strong, and ioyned together with glu­tinous or bitumous matter, so high withall that the Sea at the highest flood, or the greatest rage of storme or tempest, can neither dis­solue the stones so well compacted in the buil­ding or yet ouerflowe the height of it. Within this round frame, (at all aduentures) hee did set workemen to digge with Mattockes, Pick­axes, and other instruments fit for such pur­poses. They did dig forty foot downe right, into and through a rocke. At last they found that which they expected, which was Sea-cole, [Page 133] they following the veine of the Mine, did dig [...]rward still: So that in the space of eight and [...]enty or nine and twenty yeeres, they haue [...]gged more then an English mile vnder the [...]ea, that when men are at worke belowe, an hundred of the greatest shippes in Britaine [...]ay saile ouer their heads. Besides, the Mine [...] most artificially cut like an Arch or a Vault, [...] that great length, with many nookes and [...] wayes: and it is so made, that a man may [...]alke vpright in the most places, both in and [...]t. Many poore people are there set on work, which otherwise through the want of imploy­ [...]ent would perish. But when I had seene the line, and was come forth of it againe; after [...]y thankes giuen to Sir George B [...]uce, I told [...]m, that if the plotters of the Powder Treason [...] England had seene this Mine, that they (per­ [...]ps) would haue attempted to haue left the [...]arliament House, and haue vndermined the [...]hames, and so to haue blowne vp the Barges [...]nd Wherries, wherein the King, and all [...]e Estates of our Kingdome were. Moreo­ [...]er, I said, that I could affoord to turne Tap­ [...]er at London, so that I had but one quarter of [...] mile of his Mine to make mee a Celler, to [...]epe Beere and Bottle-ale in. But leauing [...]ese Iests in Prose, I will relate a few Verses [...]at I made merrily of this Mine.

That haue wasted, Mōths, weeks, dayes, & houres
In viewing Kingdomes, Countries, Townes, and
Without al measure, measuring many paces, (tow'rs,
[...]nd with my pen describing many places,
With few additions of mine owne deuizing,
Because I haue a smacke of Cortatizing)
[...]ur Mandeuill, Primaleon, Don Quixot,
[...]reat Amadis, or Huon, traueld not
[...] I haue done, or beene where I haue beene,
[...] heard and seene, what I haue heard and seene;
[...]or Britaines Odcombe(Zany braue Vlissis)
[...] all his ambling, saw the like as this is.
[...]was in (would I could describe it well)
[...] darke, light, pleasant, profitable hell,
[...]and as by water I was wasted in,
[...] thought that I in Charons Boare had bin,
[...]ut being at the entrance landed thus,
[...]hree men there (in stead of Cerberus)
[...]me in, in each one hand a light
[...] guide vs in that vault of endlesse night,
There young & old with glim'ring candles burning
Digge, delue, and labour, turning and returning,
Some in a hole with baskets and with baggs,
Resembling furies, or infernall haggs:
There one like Tantall feeding, and there one,
Like Sisiphus he [...]owles that restlesse stone.
Yet all I saw was pleasure mixt with profit,
Which prou'd it to be no tormenting Tophet:
For in this honest, worthy, harmelesse hell,
There ne'r did any damned Deuill dwell:
And th' Owner of it games by 't more true glory,
Then Rome doth by fantasticke Purgatory.
A long mile thus I past, down, downe, steepe, steepe,
In deepenesse far more deepe, then Neptunes deepe,
Whilst o're my head (in fourefold stories hie)
Was Earth, & Sea, & Ayre, and Sun, and Skie:
That had I dyed in that Cimerian roome,
Foure Elements had couered o're my tombe:
Thus farther then the bottome did I goe,
(And many Englishmen haue not done so;)
Where mounting Porposes, and mountaine Whales,
And Regiments of fish with finnes and Scales,
Twixt me and Heauen did freely glide and slide,
And where great ships may at an anchor ride:
Thus in by Sea, and out by land I past,
And tooke my leaue of good Sir George at last.

The Sea at certaines places doth leake, of soake into the Mine, which by the industry of Sir George Bruce, is all conueyd to one Well neere the land; where he hath a deuice like a horse-mill, that with three horses and a great chaine of Iron, going downeward many fa­domes, with thirty sixe buckets fastened to the chaine, of the which eighteene goe downe still to be filled, and eighteene ascend vp to be emptied, which doe emptie themselues (without any mans labour) into a trough that conueyes the water into the Sea againe; by which meanes he saues his Mine, which other­wise would be destroyed with the Sea, besides he doth make euery weeke ninety or a hundred Tunnes of salt, which doth serue most part of Scotland, some he sends into England, and very much into Germany: all which shewes the pain­full industry with Gods blessings to such wor­thy endeauours: I must with many thankes re­member his courtesie to me, and lastly how he sent his man to guide mee tenne miles on the way to Sterling, where by the way I saw the out­side of a saire and stately house called Alla­way, belonging to the Earle of Marr, which [Page 134] by reason that his Honor was not there, I past by and went to Sterling, where I was entertai­ned and lodged at one Master Iohn Archibalds, where all my want was that I wanted roome to containe halfe the good cheere that I might haue had there; hee had me into the Castle, which in few words I doe compare to Windsor for situation, much more then Windsor in strength, and somewhat lesse in greatnesse; yet I dare affirme, that his Maiesty hath not such another hall to any house that he hath neither in England or Scotland, except Westminster Hall which is now no dwelling Hall for a Prince, being long since metamorphosed into a house for the Law and the profits.

This goodly Hall was built by King Iames the fourth, that marryed King Henry the eights sister, and after was slaine at Flodden field; but it surpasses all the Halls for dwelling houses that euer I saw, for length, breadth, height and strength of building, the Castle is built vpon a rocke very lofty, and much beyond Edenborough Castle in state and magnificence, and not much inferiour to it in strength, the roomes of it are lofty, with carued workes on the seelings, the doores of each roome being so high, that a man may ride vpright on horse­backe into any chamber or lodging. There is also a goodly faire Chappell, with Cellers, Stables, and all other necessary Offices, all very stately & befitting the Maiesty of a King.

From Sterling I rode to Saint Iohnston, a fine Towne it is, but it is much decayed, by rea­son of the want of his Maiesties yeerely com­ming to lodge there. There I lodged one night at an Inne, the goodman of the house his name being Petricke Pettcarne, where my en­tertainement was with good cheere, good lodging, all too good to a bad weary guest. Mine Host told me that the Earle of Marr, and Sir William Murray of Abercarny were gone to the great hunting to the Brca of Marr; but if I made haste I might perhaps finde them at a Towne called Breekin, or Breechin, two and thirty miles from Saint Iohn stone whereupon I tooke a guide to Breekin the next day, but before I came, my Lord was gone from thence foure dayes.

Then I tooke another guide, which brought me such strange wayes ouer mountaines and rockes, that I thinke my horse neuer went the like; and I am sure I neuer saw any wayes the might fellow them. I did go through a Coun­trey called Glaneske, where passing by the side of a hill, so steepe as the ridge of a house, where the way was rocky, and not aboue a yard broad in some places, so fearefull and horrid it was to looke down into the bottome, for if either horse or man had slipt, he had fal­len (without recouery) a good mile downe­right; but I thanke God, at night I came to [...] lodging in the Lard of Eggels Land, where I lay at an Irish house, the folkes not being able to speake scarce any English, but I sup'd and went to bed, where I had not laine long, but I was enforced to rise, I was so stung with Irish Musketaes, a creature that hath sixe leg, and liues like a monster altogether vpon man flesh, they doe inhabite and breed most in fl [...]tish houses, and this house was none of the cleanest, the beast is much like a louse in England, both in shape and nature; in a word, they were to me the A. and the Z. the Prologue and the Epilogue, the first and the last that had in all my trauels from Endenborough; and had not this High-land Irish house helped [...] at a pinch, I should haue sworne that all Sea­land had not beene so kind as to haue bestowed a Louse vpon me: but with a shift that I had, I shifted off my Canibals, and was neuer m [...] troubled with them.

The next day I trauelled ouer an exceeding high mountaine, called mount Skeene, where I found the valley very warme before I went to it; but when I came to the top of it, my te [...] beganne to dance in my head with cold, like Virginals iacks; and withall, a most familiar mist embraced me round, that I could not see thrice my length any way: withall, it yeeldest so friendly a deaw, that it did moysten tho­row all my clothes: Where the old Proueri [...] of a Scottish Miste was verified, in wetting me to the skinne. Vp and downe, I thinke this hi [...] is sixe miles, the way so vneuen, stony, and full of bogges, quagmires, and long heath, that a dogge with three legs will out-runnes [Page 135] horse with foure: for doe what we could, wee were foure houres before we could passe it.

Thus with extreme trauell, ascending and descending, mounting and alighting, I came at night to the place where I would be, in the [...]ea of Ma [...], which is a large County, all composed of such mountaines, that Shooters [...]hill, Gads hill, Highgate hill, Hampsted hill, [...]Birdlip hill, or Maluernes hills, are but Mole­hills in comparison, or like a Liuer, or a Gi­ [...] [...]ard vnder a Capons wing, in respect of the altitude of their tops, or perpendicularitie of their bottomes. There I saw Mount Benawne, with a furrd'd mist vpon his snowie head in stead of a nightcap: (for you must vnderstand, that the oldest man aliue neuer saw but the snow was on the top of diuers of those hills, both in Summer, as well as in Winter) There did I finde the truely Noble and Right Ho­nourable Lords Iohn Erskin Earle of Marr, Iames Stuarl Earle of Murray, George Gordon Earle of Engye, sonne and heire to the Mar­ [...]uesse of Huntley, Iames Erskin Earle of Bughan, and Iohn Lord Erskin, sonne and here to the Earle of Marr, and their Coun­tesses, with my much honoured, and my best assured and approued friend, Sir William Mur­ray Knight, of Abercarny, and hundred of others Knights, Esquires, and their followers; all and euery man in generall in one habit, as if [...] had beene there, and made Lawes of Equality: For once in the yeere, which is the whole moneth of August, and sometimes part of September, many of the Nobility and Gen­try of the Kingdome (for their pleasure) doe come into these high-land Countries to hunt, where they doe conforme themselues to the habite of the High-land-men, who for the most part speake nothing but Irish; and in for­mer time were those people which were called the Red-shankes. Their habite is shooes with but one, sole apiece; stockings (which they call short hose) made of a warme stuffe of diuers colours, which they call Tartane: as for breeches, many of them, nor their forefa­thers neuer wore any, but a ierkin of the same stuffe that their hose is of, their garters being hands or wreathes of hay or straw, with a plead about their shoulders, which is a mantle of diuers colours, much finer and lighter stuffe then their hose, with blue flat caps on their heads, a handkerchiefe knit with two knots about their necke: and thus are they attyred. Now their weapons are long bowes and for­ked arrowes, Swords and Targets, Harque­busses, Muskets, Durks, and Loquhabor-Axes. With these Armes I found many of them ar­med for the hunting. As for their attire, any man of what degree soeuer that comes a­mongst them, must not disdaine to weare it: for if they doe, then they will disdaine to hunt, or willingly to bring in their Dogges: but if men be kind vnto them, and be in their habit; then are they conquered with kindnesse, and the sport will be plentifull. This was the rea­son that I found so many Noblemen and Gen­tlemen in those shapes. But to proceed to the hunting.

My good Lord of Marr hauing put me into that shape, I rode with him from his house, where I saw the ruines of an old Castle, cal­led the Castle of Kindroghit. It was built by King Malcolm Canmore (for a hunting house) who raigned in Scotland when Edward the Con­fessor, Harold, and Norman William raigned in England: I speake of it, because it was the last house that I saw in those parts; for I was the space of twelue dayes after, before I saw either House, Corne-field, or habitation for any creature, but Deere, wilde Horses, Wolues, and such like creatures, which made mee doubt that I should neuer haue seene a house againe.

Thus the first day wee traueld eight miles, where there were small cottages built on pur­pose to lodge in, which they call Lonquhards, I thanke my good Lord Erskin, hee comman­ded that I should alwayes bee lodged in his lodging, the Kitchin being alwayes on the side of a banke, many Kettles and Pots boyling, and many spits turning and winding, with great variety of cheere: as Venison bak't, sod­den, rost, and stu'de Beefe, Mutton, Goates, Kid, Hares, fresh Salmon, Pidgeons, Hens, Capons, Chickins, Partridge, Moorecoots, Heathcocks, Caperkellies, and Termagants; [Page 136] good Ale, Sacke, White, and Claret, Tent, (or Allegant) with most potent Aquavitae.

All these, and more then these we had con­tinually, in superfluous aboundance, caught by Faulconers, Fowlers, Fishers, and brought by my Lords Tenants and Purueyers to vi­ctuall our Campe, which consisteth of fourteen or fifteene hundred men and horses; the man­ner of the hunting is this: Fiue or sixe hundred men doe rise early in the morning, and they doe disperse themselues diuers wayes, and seuen, eight or tenne miles compasse, they doe bring or chase in the Deere in many heards, (two, three or foure hundred in a heard) to such or such a place, as the Noble­men shall appoint them; then when day is come, the Lords and Gentlemen of their Companies, doe ride or goe to the said pla­ces, sometimes wading vp to the middles through bournes and riuers: and then they being come to the place, doe lye downe on the ground, till those foresaid Scouts which are called the Tinckhell, doe bring downe the Deere: But as the Prouerbe sayes of a bad Cooke, so these Tinckhell men doe like their owne fingers; for besides their bowes and ar­rowes which they carry with them, wee can heare now and then a Harquebusse or a Mus­ket goe off, which they doe seldome discharge in vaine: Then after we had stayed there three houres or thereabouts, we might perceiue the Deere appeare on the hills round about vs, (their heads making a shew like a wood) which being followed close by the Tinkhell, are cha­sed downe into the valley where we lay; then all the valley on each side being way-laid with a hundred couple of strong Irish Grey-hounds, they are let loose as occasion serues vpon the heard of Deere, that with Dogges, Gunnes, Arrowes, Durkes, and Daggers, in the space of two houres, fourescore fat Deere were slaine, which after are disposed of some one way, and some another, twenty and thirty miles, and more then enough left for vs to make merry withall at our Rendez-vous. I li­ked the sport so well, that I made these two Sonnets following.

VVHy should I waste Inuention to endite,
Ouidian fictions, or Olympiam games [...]
My misty Muse enlightned with more light,
To a more noble pitch her ayme the frames.
I must relate to my great Master IAMES,
The Calydonian annuall peacefull warre;
How noble mindes doe eternize their fames,
By martiall meeting in the Brea of Marr:
How thousand gallant Spirits came neere and farre,
With Swords & Targets, Arrowes, Bowes, & Guns,
That all the Troope to men of iudgement, are
The God of Warres great neuer conquered Sonnes.
The Sport is Manly, yet none bleed but Beasts.
And last the Victor on the vanquisht feasts.
IF Sport like this can on the Mountaines be,
Where Phebus flames can neuer melt the Snow:
Then let who lift delight in Vales below,
Skie-kissing Mountaines pleasure are for me:
What brauer obiect can mans eye-sight see,
Then Noble, Worshipfull, and worthy Wights,
As if they were prepard for sundry fights,
Yet all in sweet society agree?
Through heather, mosse, mōgst frogs, & bogs, & fogs,
'Mongst craggy cliffes, & thunder battered hills,
Hares, Hinds, Bucks, Roes are chas'd by Men & dogs,
Where two houres hunting fourscore fat Deere kills,
Low land, your Sports are low as is your Seate,
The High-land Games & Minds, are high and great.

Being come to our lodgings, there was such Baking, Boyling, Roasting, and Stewing, a [...] if Cooke Russian had beene there to haue seal­ded the Deuill in his feathers: and after supp [...] a fire of Firre-wood as high as an indifferent May-pole: for I assure you, that the Earle of Marr will giue any man that is his friend, for thankes, as many Firre trees (that are as good as any shippes masts in England) as are worth (if they were in any place neere the Thames, or any other portable riuer) the best Earledome in England or Scotland either: For I dare affirme, hee hath as many growing there, as would serue for masts (from this time to the end of the world) for all the shippes, Carackes, Hoyes, Galleyes, Boates, Drum­lers, Barkes, and Water-crafts, that are now, or can be in the world these fourty yeeres.

This sounds like a lye to an vnbeleeuer; but I and many thousands doe knowe that I speake [Page 137] within the compasse of truth: for indeede (the [...]ore is the pitty) they doe grow so farre from [...]y passage of water, and withall in such rockie Mountaines, that no way to conuey them is [...]ssible to bee passable, either with Boate, [...]dorse, or Cart.

Thus hauing spent certaine dayes in hun­ [...]ing in the Brea of Marr, wee went to the next County called Bagenoch, belonging to the Earle of Engie, where hauing such sport and enter­tainement as we formerly had; after foure or [...] dayes pastime, we tooke leaue of hunting [...]or that yeere; and tooke our iourney toward [...] strong house of the Earles, called Ruthen in [...], where my Lord of Engie and his No­ble Countesse (being daughter to the Earle of Argile) did giue vs most noble welcome three dayes.

From thence we went to a place called Ballo [...], a faire and stately house, a worthie Gentleman being the Owner of it, called the [...] of Graunt, his wife being a Gentle­woman honourably descended being sister to [...]heright Honourable Earle of Atholl, and to Sir Patricke Murray Knight; she being both in­wardly and outwardly plentifully adorned with the gifts of Grace and Nature: so that [...] cheere was more then sufficient; and yet much lesse then they could affoord vs. There [...] there foure dayes, foure Earles, one [...], diuers Knights and Gentlemen, and their seruants, footmen and horses; and euery [...] foure long Tables furnished with all va­rieties: Our first & second course being three­ [...]core dishes at one boord; and after that al­wayes a Banquet: and there if I had not for­ [...]ornee wine till I came to Edenborough, I thinke [...] had there dranke my last.

The fifth day with much adoe we gate from thence to Tarnaway, a goodly house of the Earle of Murrayes, where that right Honou­rable Lord and his Lady did welcome vs foure dayes more. There was good cheere in all va­riety, with some what more then plenty for ad­uantage: for indeed the Countie of Murray is the most pleasantest, and plentifull Countrey in all Scotland; being plaine land, that a Coach may be driuen more then foure and thirtie miles one way in it, alongst by the Sea-coast.

From thence I went to Elgen in Murray, an ancient Citie, where there stood a faire and beautifull Church with three steeples, the walls of it and the steeples all yet standing; but the Roofes, Windowes, and many Marble Mo­numents and Toombes of honourable and worthie personages all broken and defaced: this was done in the time when ruine bare rule, and Knox knock'd downe Churches.

From Elgen we went to the Bishop of Murray his house which is called Spinye, or Spinaye: a Reuerend Gentleman he is, of the Noble name of Dowglasse, where wee were very well wel-comed, as befitted the honour of himselfe and his guests.

From thence we departed to the Lord Mar­quesse of Huntleyes, to a sumptuous house of his, named the Bogg of Geethe, where our enter­tainement was like himselfe, free, bountifull and honourable. There (after two dayes stay) with much entreatie and earnest suite, I gate leaue of the Lords to depart towards Edenbo­rough: the Noble Marquesse, the Earle of Marr, Murray, Engie, Bughan, and the Lord Erskin; all these, I thanke them, gaue me gold to de­fray my charges in my iourney.

So after fiue and thirty dayes hunting and trauell, I returning, past by another stately mansion of the Lord Marquesses, called Stro­beggi, and so ouer Carny monnt to Breekin, where a wench that was borne deafe and dumb came into my chamber at midnight (I being asleepe) and shee opening the bed, would faine haue lodged with mee: but had I beene a Sardanapalus, or a Heliogabalus, I thinke that ei­ther the great trauell ouer the Mountaines had tamed me; or if not, her beautie could neuer haue moued me. The best parts of her were, that her breath was as sweet as sugar-carrion, being very well shouldered beneath the waste; and as my Hostesse told me the next morning, that she had changed her Maiden-head for the price of a Bastard not long before. But howso­euer, shee made such a hideous noyse, that I started out of my sleepe, and thought that the Deuill had beene there: but I no sooner knew who it was, but I arose, and thrust my dumb [Page 138] beast out of my chamber; and for want of a locke or a latch, I staked vp my doore with a great chaire.

Thus hauing escaped one of the seuen dead­ly sinnes as at Breekin, I departed from thence to a Towne called Forfard, and from thence to Dundee, and so to Kinghorne, Burnt Iland, and so to Edenborough, where I stayed eight dayes, to recouer my selfe of falls and bruises which I receiued in my trauell in the High-land moun­tainous hunting, Great welcome I had shewed me all my stay at Edenborough, by many wor­thy Gentlemen, namely, old Master George To­drigg, Master Henry Leuing flow, Master Iames Hen­derson, Master Iohn Maxwell, and a number of others, who suffered mee to want no wine or good cheere, as may be imagined.

Now the day before I came from Edenborough, I went to Leeth, where I found my long ap­proued and assured good friend Master Benia­n [...] Iohnson, at one Master Iohn Stuarts house: I thanke him for his great kindnesse towards me: for at my taking leaue of him, he gaue me a piece of gold of two and twenty shillings to drink his health in England. And withall, willed me to remember his kind commendations to all his friends: So with a friendly farewell, I left him as well, as I hope neuer to see him in a worse estate: for he is amongst Noblemen and Gentlemen, that knowe his true worth, and their owne honours, where, with much res­pectiue loue he is worthily entertained.

So leauing Leeth, I return'd to Edenborough, and within the port or gate, called the Nether­bowe, I discharged my pockets of all the mo­ney I had and as I came pennilesse within the walls of that Citie at my first comming thi­ther; so now at my departing from thence, I came moneylesse out of it againe; hauing in company to conuey me out, certaine Gentle­men, amongst the which was Master Iames Atherson, Laird of Gasford, a Gentleman that brought mee to his house, where with great entertainement he and and his good wife did welcome me.

On the morrow he sent one of his men to bring me to a place called Adam, to Master Iohn Acmootye his house, one of the Groomes of his Maiesties Bed-chamber; where with him and his two brethren, Master Alexander and Master Iames Acmootye, I found both cheer and Welcome, not inferiour to any that I [...] had in any former place.

Amongst our viands that wee had there, [...] must not forget the Soleand Goose, a mo [...] delicate Fowle, which breeds in great abo [...] ­dance in a little Rocke called the Basse, which stands two miles into the Sea. It is very good flesh, but it is eaten in the forme as wee [...] Oysters, standing at a side-boord, a little be­fore dinner, vnsanctified without Grace; and after it is eaten, it must be well liquored with two or three good rowses of Sherrie or C [...] ­rie sacke. The Lord or Owner of the Basse do [...] profit at the least two hundred pound yeer [...] by those Geese; the Basse it selfe being of [...] great height, and neere three quarters of a mile in compasse, all fully replenished with Wildfowle, hauing but one small entrance [...] to it, with a house, a garden, and a Chapp [...] in it; & on the toppe of it a Well of pure fr [...] water.

From Adam, Master Iohn and Master I [...] Acmootye went to the Towne of Dunbarr [...] me, where ten Scottish pints of wine were con­sumed, and brought to nothing for a farewell there at Master Iames Baylies house I tooke leaue, and Master Iames Acmootye commi [...] for England, said, that if I would ride with [...], that neither I nor my horse should want [...] [...] twixt that place and London. Now I hauing [...] money or meanes for trauell, began at once [...] examine my manners and my want: at last my want perswaded my manners to accept of this worthy Gentlemans vndeserued courtesie. So that night he brought me to a place called C [...] ­per-spath, where we lodged at an Inne, the li [...] of which I dare say, is not in any of his M [...] ­sties Dominions. And for to shewe my thank­fulnesse to Master William Arnet and his wife, the Owners thereof, I must explaine their bountifull entertainement of guests, which is this:

Suppose ten, fifteene, or twenty men and horses come to lodge at their house, the men shall haue flesh, tame and wild-fowle, fish with [Page 139] all varietie of good cheere, good lodging, and welcome, and the horses shall want nei­ther hay or prouender: and at the morning at their departure the reckoning is iust nothing. This is this worthy Gentlemens vse, his chiefe delight being onely to giue strangers enter­tainment gratu: And I am sure, that in Scotland beyond Edenborough, I haue beene at houses like Castles for building; the master of the house his heauen, being his blue Bounet, one that will weare no other shirts, but of the Flaxe that growes on his owne ground, and of his wiues, daughters, or seruants spinning; that [...]th his Stockings, Hose, and Ierkin of the Wooll of his owne Sheepes backes; that neuer (by his pride of apparell) caused Mercer, Dra­per, Silke man, Embroyderer, or Haberda­ [...] to breake and turne bankerupt: and yet this plaine home-spunne fellow keepes and maintaines thirty, forty, fifty seruants, or per­haps more, euery day releeuing three or foure score poore people at his gate; and besides all this can giue noble entertainment for foure or fiue dayes together to fiue or sixe Earles and Lords, besides Knights, Gentlemen and their [...]llowers, if they hee three or foure hundred men, and horse of them, where they shall not onely feede but feast, and not feast, but banker, this is a man that desires to know nothing so [...] [...] his duty to God and his King, whose [...] cares are to practise the workes of [...], Charity, and Hospitality: he neuer studies the consuming Art of fashionlesse fa­shions, hee neuer tries his strength to beare foure or fiue hundred Acres on his backe at once, his legges are alwayes at liberty, not being settred with golden garters, and mana­ [...]ed with artificial Roses, whose weight (some­time) is the Reliques of some decayed Lord­ship: Many of these worthy house-keepers there are in Scotland, amongst some of them I was entertained; from whence I did truely ga­ther these aforesaid obseruations.

So leauing Coberspath, we rode to Barwicke, where the worthy old Soldier and ancient Knight, Sir William Bowyer, made me welcome, but contrary to his will, we lodged at an Inne, where Master Iames Acmooty paid all charges: but at Barwhicke there was a grieuous chance hapned, which I thinke not fit the relation to be omitted.

In the Riuer of Tweed, which runnes by Barwicke, are taken by Fishermen that dwell there, infinite numbers of fresh Salmons, so that many housholds and families are relie­ued by the profit of that fishing; but (how long since I know not) there was an order that no man or boy whatsoeuer should fish vpon a Sunday: This order continued long amongst them, till some eight or nine weekes before Michaelmas last, on a Sunday, the Salmons plaid in such great aboundance in the Riuer, that some of the Fishermen (contrary to Gods law and their owne order) tooke Boates and nettes and fished, and caught three hundred Salmons; but from that time vntill Michael­mas day that I was there, which was nine weekes, and heard the report of it, and saw the poore peoples lamentations, they had not seene one Salmon in the Riuer; and some of them were in despaire that they should neuer see any more there; affirming it to be Gods Iudgement vpon them for the prophanation of the Sabbath.

The thirtieth of September we rode from Barwicke to Belford, from Belford to Anwicke, the next day from Amrick to Newcastle, where I found the noble Knight, Sir [...]enry withering­ton; who, because I would haue no gold nor siluer, gaue me a bay Mare, in requitall of a loafe of bread that I had giuen him two and twenty yeeres before, at the Iland of Flores, of the which I haue spoken before. I ouertooke at Newcastle a great many of my worthy friends, which were all comming for London, namely, Master Robert Hay, and Master Dauid Drummond, where I was welcom'd at Master Nicholas Tempests house. From Newcastle I rode with those Gentlemen to Durham, to Darington, to Northalerton, and to Topel [...]sse in Yorke­shire, where I tooke my leaue of them, and would needs try my pennilesse fortunes by my selfe, and see the City of Yorke, where I was lodged at my right Worshipfull good friend, Master Doctor Hudson one of his Maiesties Chaplaines, who went with me, and shewed [Page 140] me the goodly Minster Church there, and the most admirable, rare-wrought, vnfellowed Chapter house.

From Yorke I rode to Doncaster, where my horses were well fed at the Beare, but my selfe found out the honourable Knight, Sir Robert Anslruther at his father in lawes, the truely no­ble Sir Robert Swifts house, he being then high Sheriffe of Yorkeshire, where with their good Ladies, and the right Honourable the Lord Sanquhar, I was stayed two nights and one day, Sir Robert Anslruther (I thanke him) not only paying for my two horses meat, but at my de­parture, he gaue me a letter to Newarke vpon Trent, twenty eight miles in my way, where Master George Atkinson mine Host made me as welcome, as if I had beene a French Lord, and what was to be paid, as I call'd for nothing, I paid as much; and left the reckoning with ma­ny thankes to Sir Robert Anstruther.

So leauing Newarke, with another Gentle­man that ouertooke me, we came at night to Stamford, to the signe of the Virginitie (or the Maydenhead) where I deliuered a Letter from the Lord Sanguhar; which caused Master Bates and his wife, being the Master and Mistresse of the house, to make me and the Gentleman that was with me great cheere for nothing.

From Stamford the next day we rode to Hun­tington, where we lodged at the Post-masters house, at the signe of the Crowne; his name is Riggs. He was informed who I was, and wherefore I vndertooke this my pennilesse Progresse: wherefore he came vp to our cham­ber, and sup'd with vs, and very bountifully called for three quarts of Wine and Sugar, and foure Iugges of Beere. He did drinke and beginne healths like a Horse-leech, and swal­lowed downe his cuppes without feeling, as if he had had the dropsie, or nine pound of Spunge in his maw. In a word, as he is a Poste, he dranke poste, striuing and calling by all meanes to make the reckoning great, or to make vs men of great reckoning. But in his payment he was tyred like a Iade, leauing the Gentleman that was with me to discharge the terrible Short, or else one of my horses must haue laine in pawne for his superfluous calling, and vnmannerly intrusion.

But leauing him, I left Huntington, and rode on the Sunday to Puckeridge, where Master Holland at the Faulkon, (mine old acquain­tance) and my louing and ancient Hoste gaue mee, my friend, my man, and our horses ex­cellent cheere, and welcome, and I paid him with, Not a penny of money.

The next day I came to London, and obscure­ly coming within More-gate, I went to a house and borrowed money: And so I stole backe againe to Iflington, to the signe of the Mayden head, staying till Wednesday, that my friends came to meete me, who knew no other, but that Wednesday was my first comming: where with all loue I was entertained with much good cheere: and after Supper we had a play of the life and death of Guy of Warwicke, played by the Right Honourable the Earle of Darb [...] his men. And so on the Thursday morning be­ing the fifteenth of October, I came home to my house in London.

THE EPILOGVE TO ALL MY ADVENTVRERS AND OTHERS.

THus did I neither spend, or begge, or aske,
By any course, direct or indirectly:
But in each tittle I perform'd my taske,
According to my bill most circumspectly.
I vow to God, I haue done SCOTLAND wrong,
(And (iustly)' gainst me it may bring an Action)
I haue not giuen't that right which doth belong,
For which I am halle guilty of detraction:
Yet had I wrote all things that there I saw,
Misiudging censures would suppose I flatter,
And so my name I should in question draw,
Where Asses bray, and prattling Pies doe chatter:
Yet (arm'd with truth) I publish with my Pen,
That there th'Almighty doth his blessings heape,
In such aboundant food for Beasts and Men;
That I ne're saw more plenty or more cheape.
Thus what mine eyes did see, I doe beleeue;
And what I doe beleeue, I know is true:
And what is true, vnto your hands I giue,
That what I giue, may be beleeu'd of you.
But as for him that sayes I lye or dote,
I doe returne, and turne the Lye in's throate.
Thus Gentlemen, amongst you take my ware,
You share my thankes, and I your moneyes share.
Yours in all obseruance and gratefulnesse, euer to be commanded, IO: TAYLOR.
FINIS.

THE GREAT EATER OR PART OF THE ADMIRABLE TEETH AND STOMACKS EXPLOITS OF NICHOLAS WOOD, OF HARRISOM IN THE COVNTY OF KENT. HIS EXCESSIVE MANNER OF EATING WITHOVT MANNERS, IN STRANGE AND TRVE MANNER DESCRIBED, BY IOHN TAILOR.

REcords and Histories doe make memorable mention of the diuer­sitie of qualities of sundry famous persons, men and women, in all the Countries and Regions of the world, how some are remembred for their Piety and Pitty; some for Iustice; some for Seuerity, for Learning; Wisedome, Temperance, Constancie, Patience, with all the vertues Diuine, and morall: Some againe, haue purchased a memory for Greatnesse and Talnesse of body; some for Dwarfish smal­nesse; some for beautifull outsides, faire fea­ture and composition of Limbs and stature, many haue gotten an earthly perpetuity for cruelty and murther, as Nero, Commodus, and others: for Leachery, as Heliogabalus: for Drunkennesse, Tiberius, ( alias Biberius:) for Effeminacy, as Sardanapalus: for Gluttony, Aulus Vitellius, who at one supper was serued with two thousand sorts of fishes, and seuen thousand sowles, as Suetonius writes in his ninth Booke, and Iosephus in his fifth Booke of the Iewes warres. Cal [...]gula was famous for Am­bition, for hee would bee ador'd as a God, though he liu'd like a Deuill, poysoning [...] Vnkle, and deflowring all his Sisters: And in [...] ages and Countries, time hath still produc [...] particular persons, men & women, either [...] their vertnes or their vices, to be remembred that by meditating on the good, we may b [...] imitating their goodnesse, and by viewing [...] bad, we might be eschewing thier vices.

To descend lower to more familiar exam­ples, I haue knowne a great man very exp [...] on the Iewe-harpe; a rich heire excellen [...] Noddy, a Iustice of the Peace skilfull [...] Quoytes; a Marchants wife a quicke Ga [...]ster at Irish (especially when she came to be [...]ring of men) that she would seldome misse [...]tring. Monsieur La Ferr a French-man, [...] the first inuentor of the admirable Game [...] Double-hand, Hot-cockles, & Gregorie Da [...] an English man, deuised the vnmatchable my­stery of Blind-man-buffe. Some haue [...] a gility to ride Poast; some the facility [...]runne Poast, some the dexterity to [...] Post, and some the ability to speake, po [...] For I haue heard a fellow make a Hackney [...] his tongue, & in a moment he hath gallop'd [...] [Page 143] [...]ye from China to London, without Bridle or [...]addle, Others doe speake poast, in a thicke [...]ing kind of Ambling-trot, and that in [...]ch speede, that one of them shall talke more [...] one quarter of an houre, then shall be vn­derstood in seuen yeeres. And as euery one [...]h particular qualities to themselues, and di [...]onant from others, so are the manners of [...]iues (or liuings) of all men and women va­ [...]ious one from another; as some get their li­ [...]ing by their tounges, as Interpreters, Law­ [...]ers, Oratours, and Flatterers; some by [...]yles, as Maquerellaes, Concubines, Cur­ [...]anes, or in plaine English, Whores; Some by thei [...] feete, as Dancers, Lackeyes, Foot­men, and Weauers, and Knights of the pu­blicke or common order of the Forke; Some by their braines, as Politicians, Monopolists, Proiectmongers, Suit-ioggers, and Starga­ [...]ers; Some (like the Salamander) liue by fire, [...]s the whole Race of Tubalcaine, the Vul [...]anean Broode of Blacksmiths, fire-men, Colliers, Gunners, Gun-founders, and all sorts of met­tle-men; Some like the Cameleon, by the Ayre, and such are Poets, Trumpetters, Cornets, Recorders, Pipers, Bag-pipers; and some by smoake, as Tobaconists, Knights of the Va­pour, Gentlemen of the Whiffe, Esquires of the Pipe, Gallants in Fumo; Some liue by the Water as Herrings doe, such are Brewers, Vintners, Dyers, Mariners, Fisher-men, and S [...]ullers; And many like Moles liue by the Earth, as griping Vsurers, racking Land­lords, toyling Plowmen, moyling Labourers, painefull Gardners, and others.

Amongst all these before mentioned, and many more which I could recite, this subiect of my Pen is not (for his qualitie) inferiour to any: and as neere as I can, I will stretch my wit vpon the Tenters, to describe his name and Character, his worthy Actes shall be related after in due time duely.

And, Be it knowne vnto all men, to whom these presents shall come, that I Iohn Taylor, Waterman of Saint Sauiours in Southwarke, in the County of Surrey, the Writer here­of, &c. will write plaine truth, bare and threed-bare, and almost starke-naked-truth, of the descriptions, and remarkable, memorable Actions of Nichol [...] Wood, of the Parish of Har­risóm in the County of Kent, Yeoman, for these considerations following.

First, I were to blame to write more then truth, because that which is knowne to be true, is enough.

S [...]condly, that which is onely true, is too much.

Thirdly, the truth will hardly be beleeued, being so much beyond mans reason to con­ceiue.

Fourthly, I shall runne the hazzard to bee accounted a great lyer, in writing the truth.

Lastly, I will not lye, on purpose to make all those lyers that esteeme me so.

Yet by your leaue, Master Critick, you must giue me licence to flourish my Phrases, to em­bellish my lines, to adorne my Oratory, to em­broder my speeches, to enterlace my words, to draw out my sayings, and to bumbaste the whole suite of the businesse for the time of your wearing. For though truth appeareth best bare in matters of Iustice, yet in this I hold it decent to attire her with such poore raggs as I haue, in stead of Robes.

First then; the place of his birth, and names of his parents are to me a meere Terraincognita, as farre from my knowledge, as content from a Vsurer, or honesty from a Bawde, but if hee be no Christian, the matter is not much, hee will serue well enough for a man of Kent; and if his education had beene as his Feeding, it is euident he had been of most mighty breeding; he hath gotten a foule name, but I know not if it came to him by Baptisme, for it is partly a Nick-name, which in the totall is Nicholas, I would abate him but a Saint, and call him Nicholas Shambles, and were the goodnesse of his purse answerable to the greatnesse of his appe­tite, out of all question, no man below the Moone would be a better customer to a sham­bles then he, for though he be chaste of his bo­dy, yet his minde is onely vpon flesh, he is the onely Tugmutton, or Muttonmonger betwixt Douer and Dunbarr: for hee hath eaten a whole Sheepe of sixteene shillings price, raw at one meale (pardon me) I thinke hee left the skin, [Page 144] the wooll, the hornes, and the bones: but what talke I of a Sheepe, when it is apparant­ly knowne, that he hath at one repast, and with one dish, feasted his Carkas with all manner of meates? All men will confesse that a Hogge will eate any thing, either fish, flesh, fowle, root, herbe, or excrement, and this same no­ble Nick Nicholas, or Nicholas Nick, hath made an end of a Hogge all at once, as if it had bin but a Rabbet [...]ucker, and presently after, for fruit to recreate his palate, he hath swallowed three peckes of Damsons, thus (Philosophi­cally) by way of a Chimicall In [...]usion, as a Hogge will eate all things that are to be eaten, so he in eating the Hogge, did in a manner of extraction distill all manner of meates thorow the Limbeck of his paunch.

But hold a little, I would be loath to cloy my Reader with too much meate and fruit at once [...] so that after your Sheepe, Hogge and Damsons, I thinke it best to suffer you to pawse and picke your teeth (if you haue any) whilst I spend a few words more in Paraphrasing vpon his surname. Wood is his Appellation, Denomination, or how you please to tearme it.

Some of the ancient Philosophers haue compared man to a Tree with the bottome vp­wards, whose roote is the Braine, the Armes Hands, Fingers, Legges, Feete and Toes, are the Limbs, and Branches, the comparison is very significant, many Trees doe bring forth good fruit, so doe some fewe men; Some stately Trees growe high and faire, yet stand for nothing but shades, and some men grow high and lofty, yet are nothing but shaddows; Some Trees are so malignant, that nothing can prosper vnder the compasse of their bran­ches; and some men are so vnlucky, that very few can thriue in their seruice. And as of one part of a Tree a Chaire of State may be made, and of another part a carued Image, and of a third part a stoole of office; So men, being compounded and composed all of one mould and mettle, are different and disconsonant in estates, conditions, and qualities. Too many (like the barren Fig-tree) beare leaues of hy­pocrisie, but no fruites of Integrity, who serue onely for a flourish in this life, and a flame [...] that hereafter.

So much for that: now to returne to my Theame of Wood, (indeed this last disgressio [...] may make my Reader thinke that I could no [...] see wood for trees) what Wood he is, I know not, but by his face he should be Maple, o [...] Crab-tree, and by his stomacke, sure he i [...] heart of Oake; some say he is a Meddler, but by his stature, he seemes like a low short Pine, and certaine I am, that hee is Popular, a well tym­berd piece, or a store house for belly tymber.

Now Gentlemen, as I haue walked you amongst the Trees, and thorow the Wood, I pray set downe, and take a taste or two mo [...]e of this Banquet.

What say you to the Leafe or Flecke of [...] Brawne new kild, to be of weight eight pound, and to be eaten hot out of the Bores belly raw? much good doe you Gallants, was it not [...] glorious dish? and presently after (in stead of [...]uckets, twelue raw puddings. I speake not one word of drinke all this while, for indeed he is no drunkard, hee abhorres that [...]winish vice: Alehouses, nor Tapsters cannot nick this Nick with froth, curtoll Cannes, tragical blacke-pots, and double-dealing bumbasted Iugges, could neuer cheate him, for one Pin [...] of Beere or Ale is enough to wash downe [...] Hog, or water a Sheepe with him.

Two Loynes of Mutton, and one Loyne of Veale were but as three Sprats to him: Once at Sir Warrham Saint Leigers house, and at S [...] William Sydleyes he shewed himselfe so valiant o [...] Teeth, and Stomacke, that hee ate as much as would well haue seru'd and suffic'd thirty men, so that his belly was like to turne bankerupt and breake, but that the Seruing-men turn'd him to the fire, and anoynted his paunch with Greace and Butter, to make it stretch and hold; and afterwards being layd in bed, hee slep [...] eight houres, and fasted all the while: which when the Knight vnderstood, he commanded him to be laid in the stocks, and there to en­dure as long time as he had laine bedrid with eating.

Pompey the Great, Alexander the Great, T [...] ­berlan [...] the Great, Charlemagne or Charles the [Page 145] [...]reat, Arthur the Great: all these gat the [...]itle of Great, for conquering Kingdomes, [...]d killing of men; and surely eating is not a [...]ea [...]er sinne then rapine, theft, manslaugh­ [...] and murther. Therefore this noble Ea [...] [...] doth well deserue the Tytle of Great: where­ [...]re I instile him Nicholas the Great (Eater:) [...]nd as these forenamed Greats haue ouer­ [...]rowne and wasted Countreyes, and Hosts [...]f men, with the helpe of their Soldiers and [...]llowers; so hath our Nick the Great, (in [...] [...] owne person) without the helpe or ayde [...]f any man, ouercome, conquered, and de­ [...]oured in one weeke, as much as would haue [...]fficed a reasonable and sufficient Army in a [...]y, for hee hath at one meale made an assault [...]pon seuen dozen of good Rabbets at the [...]ord Wootons in Kent, which in the totall is [...]ure-score, which number would well haue [...]ffic'd a hundred, three-score, and eight hun­ [...]ry Soldiers, allowing to each of them halfe a [...]abbet.

Bell, the famous Idoll of the Babylonians, was meere imposture, a Iuggling toye, and a [...]heating bable, in comparison of this Nicho­ [...]an, Kentish Tenterbelly, the high and mighty [...]uke All paunib, was but a fiction to him. Milo [...]he Crotonia [...] could hardly be his equall: and [...]oclner of Windsor was not worthy to bee his [...]ot-man. A quarter of fat Lambe, and three­ [...]ore Eggs haue beene but an easie colation [...]nd three well larded Pudding-pyes he hath at [...]ne time time put to foyle, eighteene yards of [...]lacke Puddings (London measure) haue sud­denly beene imprisoned in his sowse-tub. A [...]ucke raw with guts, feathers, and all (ex­ [...]ept the bill & the long feathers of the wings) [...]ath swomme in the whirlepole or pond of his [...]awe, and he told me, that three-score pound of Cherries was but a kind of washing meate, [...]nd that there was no tacke in them, for hee [...]ad tride it at one time. But one Iohn Dale was [...]oo hard for him at a place called Lennam, for [...]he said Dale had laid a wager that he would fill [...]oods belly, with good wholesome victuals for [...], shillings, & a Gentleman that laid the con­ [...]rary, did wager, that as [...]oone as noble Nick [...]ad eaten out Dales 2. shillings, that he should presently enter combate with a worthy Knight, called Sir Loyne of Beefe, & ouerthrow him; in conclusion, Dale bought 6. pots of potent, high, and mighty Ale, and twelue new penny white loaues, which hee sop'd in the said Ale, the powerfull fume whereof, conquer'd the con­querour, rob'd him of his reason, berest him of his wit, violently tooke away his stomacke, intoxicated his Pian ater, & entred the Sconce of his Pericranion, blinde-folded him with sleep; setting a nap of nine houres for manacles vpon his threed-bare eyelids, to the preseruation of the rost Beefe, and the vnexpected winning of the wager.

This inuincible Ale, victoriously van­quish'd the vanquisher, and ouer our Great Triumpher, was Triumphant: But there are presidents enow of as potent men as our Nicholas, that haue subdude Kings and King­domes, and yet they themselues haue beene captiu'd and conquer'd by drinke; wee need recite no more examples but the Great Ale­xander, and Holophernes, their ambition was boundlesse, and so is the stomacke of my Pens subiect, for all the foure Elements cannot cloy him, fish from the deepest Ocean, or purest Riuer, fairest Pond, foulest Ditch, or dirtiest puddle: he hath a receite for Fowle of all sorts, from the Wren to the Eagle, from the Titmouse to the Estrich, or Cassawar away, his paunch is either a Coope or a Roost for them: He hath (within himselfe) a stall for the Oxe, a roome for the Cow, a stye for the Hogge, a Parke for the Deere, a warren for Coneies, a store­house for fruit, a dayery for Milke, Creame, Curds, Whay, Butter-milke, and Cheese: his mouth is a Mill of perpetuall motion, for let the wind or the water rise or fall, yet his teeth will euer bee grinding; his guts are the Rendez-vous or meeting place or Burse for the Beasts of the fields, the Fowles of the Ayre, and Fishes of the Sea; and though they be ne­uer so wild or disagreeing in Nature, one to another, yet hee binds or grindes them to the peace, in such manner, that they neuer fall at odds againe. His eating of a Sheepe, a Hog, and a Duck raw, doth shew that he is free from the sinne of nicenesse or curiosity in his Dyert. [Page 146] (It had beene happy for the poore, if their stomacks had beene of that constitution, when [...]acoales were so deare here.) Besides, he ne­uer troubles a Larder, or Cupboord to lay cold meate in, nor doth he keepe any Cats or Traps in his house to destroy vermin, he takes so good a course, that he layes or shuts vp all safe within himselfe; in briefe, giue him meate, and he ne'r stands vpon the cookery, he cares not for the Peacocke of Sames, the Wood­cock of Phrygia, the Cranes of Malta, the Phea­sants of England, the Caperkelly, the Heathcocke, and Terniagant of Scotland, the Goate of Wales, the Salmon, and Vsquabah of Ireland, the Saw­ [...]edge of Bolognia, the Skink of Westphalia, the Spanish Potato, he holds as a bable, and the Italian Pigge he esteemes as poyson.

He is an English man, and English dyet will serue his turne. If the Norfolk Dumplin, and the Deuonshire White-pot, be at variance, he will a [...]one them, the Bag-puadings of Gloucester shire, the Blacke-puddings of W [...]rcester shire, the Pan-puddings of [...]h [...]pshire, the white puddings of Somersetshire, the Hasty-puddings of Hamshire, and the Pudding pyes of any shire, all is one to him, nothing comes amisse, a contented mind is worth all, and let any thing come in the shape of fodder, or eating stuffe, it is welcome, whe­ther it bee Sa [...]sedge, or Custard, or Eg-pye, or Cheese-cake, or Flawne, or Foole, or Fr [...]yze, or Tanzy, or Pancake, or Fritter, or Flapiacke, or Posset, Galley-ma [...]srey, Mackeroone, Kickshaw, or Tantablin, he is no puling Meacocke, nor in all his life time the queasinesse of his stomacke needed any sawcy spurre or switch of sowre Veriuice, or acute Vineger, his appetite is no straggler, nor is it euer to seeke, for he keepes it close prisoner, and like a courteous kind Iay­lour, he is very tender ouer it, not suffering it to want any thing if he can by any meanes pro­cure it: indeede it was neuer knowne to be so farre out of reparations, that it needed the as­sistance of Carrdle, Alebery, Iulep, Cullisse, Grewell, or stewd-broth, onely a messe of plaine frugall Countrey Pottage was alwayes sufficient for him, though it were but a washing-bowle full, of the quantity of two pecks, which porrenger of his, I my selfe saw at the signe of the white Lyon at a Village called Harri [...]m in Kent, [...] Hostesse of which house did affirme, that [...] did at once wash downe that Bowle full portage, with nine penny loaues of bread, [...] three Iugges of Beere.

Indeed, in my presence (after he had b [...] ­ken his fast) hauing (as he said) eaten one po­ [...]tle of milke, one pottle of potage, with bread, butter, and cheese: I then sent for him, to [...] aforesaid Inne, and after some accomodat [...] salutations, I asked him if hee could eate [...] thing? He gaue me thankes, and said, that [...] he had knowne, that any Gentleman wo [...] haue inuited him, that he would haue spa [...] his breakefast at home, (and with that he [...] me as aforesaid, what he had eaten) yet ne [...] ­thelesse (to doe me a courtesie) he would s [...] me some small cast of his office, for he had o [...] hole or corner in the profundity of his s [...] house, into which he would stow and bess [...] any thing that the house would afford, at [...] perill and my cost. Whereupon I summo [...] my Hostesse with three knocks vpon the Table [...] two stamps on the floore, with my fist and [...]o [...] at which shee made her personall appearance with a low Curtsie, and an inquisitiue W [...] lacke ye? I presently laid the authority of bold Guest vpon her, commanding that all [...] victuals in the house should be laid on the T [...] ­ble. She said, she was but slenderly prouide [...] by reason goodman Wood was there, but w [...] she had, or could doe, wee should pre [...]ca [...] haue: so the cloth was displaid, the salt [...] aduanc'd, sixe penny wheaten loaues w [...] mounted two stories high like a Rampi [...] three sixe-penny Ve [...]le pyes, wall'd sh [...] about, and well victual'd within, were pre­sented to the hazzard of the Scalado, one pon [...] of sweet butter (being all fat and no bones) was in a cold sweat at this mighty preparations one good dish of Thorneback, white as A [...] ­baster or the Snow vpon the Scithian moun­taines, and in the Reare came vp an inch th [...] shyuer of a Peck house-hold loase; all which prouision were presently, in the space of [...] houre vtterly confounded, and brought to [...] thing, by the meere and onely valourous des­terity of our vnmatchable grand Gurmou [...] [Page 147] he couragiously past the Pikes, and I cleared [...]shot, but the house yeelded no more, so [...] Guess arose vnsatisfied, and my selfe [...] contended in being [...] thrifty and sauing my [...]oney against my will.

[...] did there offer him twenty shillings to bring [...] vp to my house on the Bank-side, [...] there I would haue giuen him as much [...]od meate, as he would eate in tenne dayes, [...]e after another, & fiue shillings a day euery [...], and at the tenne dayes end, twenty shil­ [...]ings more, to bring him downe againe. I did [...]y offer tenne shillings to one Ieremy Robinson [...]Glouer (a man very inward with him) to at­ [...]nd an [...] keepe him company, and two shil­lings six pence the day, with good dyet and [...]lging: all which were once accepted, vn­ [...] Wood began to ruminate and examine what [...]ruice he was to doe, for these large allow­ [...]ces. Now my plot was to haue him to the [...]eare-garden, and there before a house full of [...]eople, he should haue eaten a wheele barrow [...]ll of Tripes, and the next day, as many pud­ [...]ing should reach ouer the Thames (at a [...]lace which I would measure betwixt London and sRichmond) the third day, I would haue al­lowed him a fat Calfe, or Sheepe of twenty [...]hillings price, and the fourth day he should [...]aue had thirty Sheepes Gathers, thus from day to day, he should haue had wages & dyet with variety; but he fearing that which his me­ [...]ts would amount to vnto, brake off the match, [...]aying, that perhaps when his Grace, (I guesse who he meant) should heare of one that ate so much, and could worke so little, he doubted there would come a command to hang him: where upon our hopefull Beare-garden busines was shiuerd, and shattered in pieces.

Indeed hee made a doubt of his expected performance in his quality, by reason of his being growne in yeeres, so that if his stomack should faile him publikely, and lay his repu­tation in the mire, it might haue beene a dis­ [...]aragement to him for euer, and especially in Kent, where he hath long beene famous, hee would be loth to be defamed; But as weake as [...]he was, he said, that he could make a shift to destroy a fat Weather of a pound in two houres, prouided that it were tenderly boild, for he hath lost all his teeth (except one) in eating a quarter of Mutton, (bone, and all) at Ashford in the County aforesaid, yet is he [...]e­ry quicke and nimble in his feeding, and will ridde more Eating worke away in two houres, then tenne of the hungriest Carters in the Parish where he dwells. He is surely noble (for his great Stomacke) and vertuous, chiefely for his patience in putting vp much; moreoeuer he is thirfty or fruga [...]l, for when he can get no better meate, he will eate Oxe Liuers, or a messe of warme Ale-graines from a Brew-house. He is prouident and studious where to get more prouision as soone as all is spent, and yet hee is bountifull or prodigall in spen­ding all hee hath at once: hee is profitable in keeping bread and meate from mould and Maggots, and sauing the charge of salt, for his appetite will not waite and attend the pou­dring; his courtesie is manifest, for he had ra­ther haue one Farew [...] then twenty Godbwyes: Of all things, hee holds fasting to be a most su­perstitious branch of Popery, he is a maine enemy to Ember weekes, he hates Lent worse then a Butcher or a Puritan, and the name of Good-friday affrights him like a Bulbegger; a long Grace before meate, strikes him into a Quotidian Ague; in a word, hee could wish that Christmas would dwell with vs all the yeere, or that euery day were metamorphoz [...]d into Shrouetuesdayes; in briefe, he is a Ma­gazine, a store-house, a Receptacle, a Burse, or Exchange, a Babel or confusion for all Creatures.

Hee is no Gamester, neither at Dice, or Cards, yet there is not any man within for­ty miles of his head, that can play with him at Maw, and though his pasture be neuer so good, he is alwayes like one of Pharaohs leane Kine; he is swarty, blackish haire, Hawk-nosed (like a Parrot, or a Roman) hee is wattle-lawde, and his eyes are sunke in­ward, as if hee looked into the inside of his intrayles, to note what custom'd or vn­custom'd goods he tooke in, whilst his bel­ly (like a Maine-sayle in a calme) hangs ruf­fled and wrinkled (in folds and wrathes) flat [Page 148] to the mast of his empty ca [...]kasse, till the storme of aboundance fills it, and violently driues it into the full sea of satisfaction.

LIke as a Riuer to the Ocean bounds,
Or as a Garden to all Britaines grounds,
Or like a Candle to a flaming Linck
Or as a single Ace, vnto Sise Cinque,
So short am I of what Nick Wood hath done,
That hauing ended, I haue scarce begun:
For I haue written but a taste in this,
To shew my Readers where, and what he is.
FINIS.

TO THE (SIR REVERENCE) RICH VVORSHIPPED M r TRIM TRAM SENCELES, GREAT IMAGE OF AVTHORITY and Hedgborough of the famous City of Goteham, and to the rest of that admired and vnmatchable Senate, with their Corruptions and Families.

MOst Honorificicabilitudinitatibus, I hauing studied the seuen Lubberly Sciences (being nine by computa­tion) out of which I gathered three coniunctions foure mile Asse-vnder, which with much labour, and great ease, to little or no purpose, I haue noddicated to your gray, graue, and grauelled Prate [...]ction. I doubt not but I might haue had a Patron neerer hand, as the Deane of Dunsta­ble, or the Beadle of Layton Buzzard, but that I know the Phrase, Methode and Stile, is not for euery mans vnderstanding, no my most renowned Pythagor-Asses, for you this Hogshead of inuention was brewed and broched, for I am ignorantly perswaded, that your wise­dome can picke as much matter out of this Booke in one day, as both the Vniuersities can in twelue moneths, and thirteene Moones, with six times foure yeeres to boot. I know your bounties too exding, for as old mother Baly said, the wit of man was much, when she saw a dog muzzled. E­uery man is not borne to make a Monument for the Cuckoo; to send a Trifoote home alone, to driue sheepe before they haue them, or to Trundle cheeses downe a hill. So saluting you with more prespect then the Mayor of Loo did the Queenes Ape, I take leaue to leaue you, and rest yours to bid you welcome, if you came within a mile of my house to stay all night.

Yours Rolihaytons.

To Nobody.

VPon a Christmas Euen, somewhat nigh Easter, anon after Whitsuntide, walking in a Coach from London to Lam­beth by water, I ouertooke a Man that met me in the mor­ning before Sun set, the wind being in Capricorne, the Signe Southwest, with silence I demanded many questions of him, and he with much pensiuenesse did answer me merrily to the full, with such ample and empty replications, that both our vnderstādings being equally satisfied, we contentiously agreed to finish and prosecute the narratio of the Vnknowne Knight Sir Gregory Nonsence: so sitting downe vpon our shoulders, resting vneasily on a banke of Si­camors, vnder a tree of Odoriferous and contagious Camomile, after three sighs, smilingly vttered in the Hebrew Character, two grones from the Chaldean Dia­lact, fiue sobs from the Arabian Sinquapace, sixe dum ps from the Germane Idi­ome, nine Moods of Melancholly from the Italian tongue, with one hub hub from the Hibernian outcry. And last he laughed in the Cambrian tongue, & began to declare in the Vtopian speech, what I haue here with most diligent negligence Translated into the English Language, in which if the Printer hath placed any line, letter or sillable, whereby this large volume may be made guilty to be vnder­stood by any man, I would haue the Reader not to impute the fault to the Author, for it was farre from his purpose to write to any purpose, so ending at the begin­ning, I say as it is ap plawsefully written and commended to posterity in the Mid­summer nights dreame. If we offend, it is with our good will, we came with no intent, but to offend, and shew our simple skill.

Rolihayton.

The names of such Authors Alphabetically recited, as are simply mentioned in this Worke.

  • AMadis de Gaul.
  • Archy Arms.
  • Beuis of Hampton.
  • Boe to a Goose.
  • Charing Crosse.
  • Coakley.
  • Dunsmore Cow.
  • Dauy Wager.
  • Euanwich Muffe.
  • Fri [...]r and the boy.
  • Fubs his Trauels.
  • Garagon [...]ua.
  • Gammon of West phallia.
  • Grigs Granam.
  • Hundred merry tales.
  • Huon of Burdeux.
  • Iacke Drum.
  • Knight of the Sunne.
  • Knaue of Diamonds.
  • Lanum.
  • Long Meg.
  • Mad Mawlin.
  • No body.
  • O toole.
  • Proofes of OOOO.
  • Quinborough Oysters.
  • Ready money.
  • Shooters Hill.
  • Singer.
  • Sir Thomas Persons.
  • Tarleton.
  • Tom Derry.
  • Tom Thumbe.
  • Vnguentum Album.
  • Will Summers.
  • Wit whither wilt thou?
  • Woodcocke of our side.
  • Xampelloes Quiblines.
  • Yard of Ale.
  • Zany on tumbling.

SIR GREGORY NONSENCE HIS NEWES FROM NO PLACE.

IT was in Iune the eight and thirtieth day,
That I imbarked was on highgate Hill,
After discourteous friendly taking leaue:
Of my young Father Madge and Mother Iohn,
The Wind did ebbe, the tide flou'd North South­east,
We hoist our Sailes of Colloquintida.
And after 13. dayes and 17. nights,
(With certaine Hiroglyphi [...]ke houres to boot)
We with tempestuous calmes, and friendly stormes,
[...]plit our maine top-mast, close below the keele.
[...]ut I with a dull quicke congruity,
[...]ook 19. ounces of the Westerne winde,
And with the pith of the pole Artichocke,
Saild by the flaming Coast of Trapezond,
There in a Fort of melting Adamant,
Arm'd in a Crimson Robe, as blacke as Iet,
I saw Alcides with a Spiders thred,
[...]ead Cerberus to the Prononticke Sea,
Then cutting further through the marble Maine,
[...]ongst flying Buls, and 4. leg'd Turkicocks,
A d [...]mbe faire spoken, welfac'd aged youth,
Sent to me from the stout Stimphalides,
With tonguelesse silence thus began his speech:
[...]ustrious flap-iacke, to thy hungry doome,
Low is the ground I eleuate my cause,
As I vpon a Gnat was riding late,
In quest to parley with the Pleiades,
I saw the Duke of Hounsditch gaping close,
[...]n a greene Arbour made of yellow starch,
Betwixt two Brokers howling Madrigales,
A Banquet was semed in of Lampraie [...] bones,
Well pickel'd in the Tarbox of old time,
When Demogorgon saild to Islington;
Which I perceiuing with nine chads of steele,
Straight flew vnto the coast of Pimlico.
[...]T' informe great Prester Iohn, and the Mogull,
What exlent Oysters were at Billingsgate.
The Mogull (all inraged with these newes,)
Sent a blacke snaile post to Tartaria,
To tell the Irishmen in Saxony,
The dismal downefall of old Charing Crosse.
With that nine butter Firkins in a flame,
Did coldly rise to Arbitrate the cause:
Guessing by the Sinderesis of Wapping,
Saint Thomas Watrings is most ominous.
For though an Andiron, and a paire of Tongs,
May both haue breeding from one teeming womb,
Yet by the Calculation of Pickt-hatch,
Milke must not be so deere as Muskadell.
First shall Melpomene in Cobweb Lawn [...]
Adorne great Memphis in a Mussell boat,
And all the muses clad in Robes of Ayre,
Shall dance, Leuoltons with a Whirligig,
Faire Pluto shall descend from Brazen Dis,
And Poliphensus keepe a Seamsters shop,
The Ile of Wight shall like a diue-dapper,
Deuoure the Egyptian proud Piramides,
Whilst Cassia Fistula shall gurmundize,
Vpon the flesh and bloud of Croydon cole dust,
Then on the bankes of Shoreditch shall be seene,
What 'tis to serue the great Vtopian Queene.
This fearefull period with great ioyfull care,
Was heard with acclamations, and in fine,
The whilst a lad of aged Nestors yeeres,
Stood sitttng in a Throne of massy yeast:
(Not speaking any word) gaue this reply:
Most conscript Vmpire in this various Orbe,
I saw the Caedars of old, Lebano [...],
Read a sad Lecture vnto Clapham heath,
At which time a strange vision did appeare,
His head was Buckrum, and his eyes were sedge,
His armes were blue bottles, his teeth were straw,
His legs were nine wel squar'd Tobacco Pipes,
Cloath'd in a garment all of Dolphins egges,
Then with a voyce erected to the ground,
Lifting aloft his hands vnto his feet,
He thus beganne, Cease friendly cutting throtes,
Clamor the Promulgation of your tongues,
And yeeld to Demagorgons policy.
Stop the refulgent method of your moodes,
For should you liue old Paphlagonias yeeres,
And with Sardan [...]p [...]lus match in vertue.
Yet Airo [...]os will with a Marigold,
Runne through the Mountains of the Caspian Sea.
When you shall see aboue you and beneath,
That nothing kils a man so soone as death,
Aquarius ioyn'd with Pisces, in firme league,
With Reasons and vindictiue Arguments,
That pulueriz'd the King of Diamonds,
And with a diogoricall relapse,
Squeaz'd through the Sinders of a Butterflye,
Great Oberon was mounted on a Waspe,
To signifie this newes at Dunstable.
The Weathercock at Pancrage in a fume,
[Page 2]With Patience much distracted hearing this,
Repli'd thus briefly without feare or wit,
What madnesse doth thy Pericranion seaze,
Beyond the Dragons taile Artyphilax.
Think'st thou a Wolfe thrust through a sheep-skin, gloue,
Can make me take this Gobling for a Lambe:
Or that a Crocadile in Bariy broth,
Is not a dish to feast don Belzebub,
Giue me a Medler in a field of blue,
Wrapt vp stigmatically in a dreame,
And I will send him to the gates of Dis,
To cause him fetch a sword of massie Chalke,
With which he wan the fatall Theban field,
From Romes great mitred Metropolitan.
Much was the quoile this brauing answere made,
When presently a German Coniurer,
Did ope a learned Booke of Palmistry,
[...]ram'd full of mentall reseruations
The which beginning with a loud low voyce,
With affable and kind discourtesie,
He spake what no man heard or vnderstood,
Words tending vnto this or no respect,
Spawne of a Tortoyse hold thy silent noyse,
For when the great Leuiathan of Trumps,
Shall make a breach in Sinous Tennis Court.
Then shall the pigmey mighty Hercules,
Skip like a wildernesse in Woodstreet Counter,
Then Taurus shall in league with Ha [...]iball,
Draw Bacchus dry, whilst Boreas in a heat,
Inuellop'd in a Gowne of Isicles:
With much discretion and great want of wit,
Leaue all as wisely as it was at fir [...],
I mused much how those things could be done.
When straite a water Tankard answer'd me,
That it was made with a Parenthesis,
With thirteene yards of Kerfie and a halfe,
Made of fine flaxe which grew on Goodwinsands,
Whereby we all perceiu'd the Hernshawes breed,
Being trusted with a charitable doome,
Was neere Bunhill, when strait I might discry,
The Quintescence of Grub street, well distild
Through Cripplegate in a contagious Map.
Bright Phaeton all angry at the sight,
Snatcht a large Wool-packe from a pismires mouth.
And in a Taylors Thimble boi'ld a Cabbage.
Then all the standers by, most Reuerend, Rude,
Iudg'd the case was most obscure and cleere,
And that three salt Ennigmates well appli'd,
With fourescoure Pipers and Arions Harpe,
Might catch Garagantua through an augor-hole,
And twas no doubt but mulley Mahamet,
Would make a qua [...]fing bowle of Gorgous skul,
Whilst gormundizing Tantalus would weepe,
That Polipheme should kisse Auroraes lips,
Tri-formed Cinthia in a Sinkefoile shape,
Met with the Dogstarre on Saint Dauids day,
But said Grimalkin mumbling vp the Alpes,
Made fifteene fustian fumes of Pasticrust.
This was no sooner knowne at Amsterdam,
But with an Ethiopian Argosey,
Man'd with Flap-dragons, drinking vpsifreeze,
They past the purple gulfe of Basingstoke.
This being finisht, search to any end,
A full odde number of iust sixteene dogs,
Drencht in a sulpher flame of scalding Ice,
Sung the Besonian Whirlepooles of Argeire,
Mixt with pragmaticall potato Pies,
With that I turn'd my eares to see these things,
And on a Christall wall of Scarlet dye,
I with mine eyes began to heare and note,
What these succeeding Verses might portend,
Which furiously an Anabaptist squeak'd,
The audience deafly listning all the while.

A most learned-Lye, and Illite­rate Oration, in lame galloping Ri [...] fustianly pronounced by Nimshag, a Gi [...]sophicall Phoolosopher, in the presence of Ac [...] ­tophel Smel-smocke, Annani-Asse Aretine, Is [...] Nabal, Fransiscus Ra-viliaco, Garnetto Iebusito, [...] do Salpetro Fauexit Pouderio, and many other g [...] Senators of Limbo. Translated out of the vulg [...] Language, of Terraincognita, and is as materiall as any part of the Booke, the meaning where­of a blindman may see without Spectacles as well at midnight, as at noone day.

THe Story of Ricardo, and of Bindo,
Appear'd like Nylus peeping through a wi [...]
Which put the wandring Iew in much amazem [...]
In seeing such a voyce without the Cazement,
When loe a Bull; (long nourish'd in Cocitus,
With sulphure hornes, sent by the Emp'rour T [...],
Ask'd a stigmatike Paraclesian question,
If Alexander euer lou'd. Ephestion.
I seeing each to other were much aduerse,
In mirth and spore set down their minds in sad [...]
Which as my brains with care haue coin'd & mi [...]
With plenteous want of iudgment here tis pri [...]
But if Grimalkine take my line in dudgioa,
The case is plaine, I pray good Readers iudge [...],
That Esop that old fabulisticke Phrygian,
From the Nocturnall stoud or lake cal'd Stigi [...],
Came to the Court at Cree [...]e, clad like a Legate,
The Porter kindly to him open'd the-Gate,
He past through Plutoes Hall in Hell most horr [...],
[Page 3]Where g [...]as [...]ing cold mixt with combustious torid,
Where all things that are good & goodnes wanted,
Where pla [...] of [...] p [...]rdition still are planted,
Where Ghosts and Go [...] lings all in sulphure su [...]d,
And all the f [...]nds like Cuck olds were cornuted, [...]
At last he audience got in Plumes presence,
And of his whole Embassage this was the sence
[...]o thee Tartarian Monarch now my Rime-is,
And therefore marke my Prologue, [...] Imprimis,
Thou that in Lim [...] [...] as 'twere Rex Reg [...]ant,
[...]earewith my wit, which is not [...] or pregnant,
[...] come, frō Ho [...]dsditch, Long-lane, & frō Bridewel,
Where all that haue liu [...]d ill, haue all not dide well,
Where as the Vices shew like Vertues Cardinall,
Where's mony store and conscience very hard in al,
Through thy protection they are mōstrous thriuers,
Not like the Dutchmen in base Doyts and Stiuers,
For there you may see many a greedy grout-head,
With [...] or wit, or fence, almost without-head,
[...]eld and esteem'd a man whose zeale is feruant,
And makes a shew as he were not your seruant.
To tell this newes I came from many a mile hence,
[...]or we doe know ther's ods twixt talke and silence.
With that the smug-fac'd Pluto shook his vestment,
Deepe ruminating what the weighty Ieftment,
Calling to mind old D [...] Hearball,
With Taciturnity and Actions verball,
Quoth he, I care for neither Friend or Kinsman,
Nor doe I value honesty two pinnes man:
[...] 'tis a Maxime Mortals cannot hinder,
The doughty deeds of Wakefields huffe cap Pinder,
Are not so pleasant as the faire Aurora,
When Ni [...]d rudely plaid on his Bandora.
For 'tis not fit that [...]ny. Turke or Persian,
Should in a Cloke- [...]g hide a feauer Tertian,
Because the Dog-starte in his cold Meridian,
Might arme himselfe in fury most quotidian.
With that, most quick a Pettifoggers tongue went.
[...]Well oild with A [...]n [...], Argent, or such vnguent)
[...]s't [...]it (quoth he) here should be such incroachment,
By such whose fathers ne'r know what a Coachment;
Or shall their Scutchions fairly be indorsed,
Who riding backward iudishly were horsed?
For though in I [...] it be [...]re and frequent,
Where to the wall most commonly the weak went,
Yet neither can the Soldan or the Sophy.
Shew any Presidents for such a Trophy.
By Rules of Logicke, he's a kind a Catiue,
And makes no reckoning of his Country natiue,
That doth with feeble strength, loue with derision.
And without bloudshed makes a deepe incision,
Why should a man lay either life or lim [...]ny,
To be endangered by a falling Chimney.
For though the prosecution may be quaintly,
Yet may the execution end but faintly,
Let's call to mind the famous acts of Hector,
When aged Ganymede carousing Nectar,
Did leaue the Greekes much matter to repine on;
Vntill the: Woodden Horse of trusty Synon,
Foald a whole litter of mad Colts in Harnesse,
As furious as the host of Holopherne [...]
But to the purpose here's the long and short out,
All that is said, hath not beene much important,
Nor can it be that what is spoke is meant all,
Of any thing that happens accidentall.
We will examine wisely what the Foe sent,
And whether he be innocent or nocent.
In weighty matters let's not be too serious,
Ther's many an Eunuch hath bin thought venerious [...].
And 'tis a thing which often hath bin heard on,
That he that labours, doth deserue his Guerdon.
Let vs the first precadent time examine,
Youle find that hunger is the cause of famine,
The Birds in Summer that haue sweetly chirped,
Ere winter hath beene done, haue beene extirped.
He may weare Robes, that nere knew what a Ragmēt,
And ho [...] ha [...] feasts, may fast without a fragmēt,
The end proues all, I care not for the Interim,
Time now that summers him, wil one day winter him,
To outward view, and Senses all exterier,
Amongst all fooles I neuer saw a verier,
Then he that doth his liberty prohibit,
To fall in danger of a fatall Iibbit.
Nor for this purpose here to talke come I,
How siluer may be mock't with Alcamy.
I oft haue heard that many a Hawke hath muted,
Whereby the Faulkners Clothes haue bin polluted.
This may be auoyded if the Knight Sir Reuerence,
Be wa [...]y with a negligent perseuerance:
For men of Iudgement neuer thinke it decent,
To loue a stinking Pole-cat well for thefent.
But if a man should seriously consider,
Where Charity is fled or who hath hid her,
He in the end would giue this worthy sentence,
The earth hath beene accursed since she went hence [...]
The times are biting, and the [...] dayes Caniculer,
And mischiefe girds about the Globes orbicule [...],
How from the Countrey all the plaine Rusticity,
Liues by deceit, exiling plaine simplicity.
A face like Rubies mix'd with Alablaster,
Wastes much in Physicke, and her water-caster,
That whosoe'r perceiues which way the stink went,
May [...] and censure shee's a great delinquent.
Why should a Bawd be furr'd with Budge & Mini­uer,
As if she were a Lady, or Queene Guiniuer,
When as perhaps there's many a modest Matron,
Hath scarcely meat, or money, clothes, or patron?
And wherefore should a man be growne so stupid;
To be a slaue to Ven [...]u or to Cup [...]a?
Hee's but a foole that hoping for a vaine prize,
Being captiued can haue no baile or maine prize.
For he that hath no shift let him determine,
[Page 4]He shall be bitten with Fleas, Lice, or vermine.
This being all his speeches, Pia Mater,
He call'd a Sculler, and would goe by water:
When straite the Stygian Ferriman a rare one,
Old amiable currish curteous Caron,
Row'd with a whirl-wind through the Acheron tick,
And thence vnto the AzureSea proponticke,
There Neptune in a burning blue Pauilion,
In state did entertaine this slow Postillion,
There Proteus in a Robe of twifted Camphire,
With a graue beard of monumentall Samphire,
Quoth he, shall we whose Ancestors were war-like,
Whose rich Perfumes were only Leeks and Garlike,
Whose noble deeds nocturnall and diurnall,
Great Towns and Towers did top [...]ie turuy turne al,
Shall all their valour be in vs extinguish'd?
Great loue forbid, there should be such a thing wish'd,
Though Cleopatra was Octanian's riuall.
It is a thing that we may well conniue all,
Amongst the Ancient it is vndisputable,
That women and the winds were euer mutable,
And 'tis approu'd where people are litigious,
There euery Epicure is not religious,
Old Occamus knowing what they ment all,
Brought Z [...]phirus vnto the Orientall,
And he by Argument would proue that loue is
A thing that makes a wise man oft a Nouice:
For tis approu'd, a Greyhound or a Beagle,
Were not ordain'd or made to hunt the Eagle,
Nor ca [...] the nimblest Cat that came from Gotta [...],
Search the profundity of Neptunes bo [...]tom.
Let roaring Cannons with the Welkin parley,
It's known, good liquor may be made with Barley,
And by experience many are assured,
Some grounds are fruitfull, if they be manure [...]
For in the rudiments of health or sanity,
An arrant Whore is but a price of vanity:
Some men with fury will procrastinate,
And some with leaden speed make haste in at,
But in conclusion many things impurely,
Die in the birth, and neuer end maturely.
The man that seeketh straying minds to weane all,
From veniall vices, or offences penall:
Had he the forces of the Turkish Nauy,
He would ly downe at last and cry pec [...],
Of one thing I haue oftentimes tooke notice,
The foole that's old, and rich, much apt to dote is;
And by the light of Pollux and of Cast [...],
A Woolfe in Shepheards weeds is no good Pastor.
Those that do liue a Commicke life by Magicke,
Their Sc [...]anes in their Catastrophes are tragick.
And he that one the world would be chiefe Primat,
May giue occasion for wise men to rime at.
Before men fell to wrangling disagreement,
A Lawyer vnderstood not what a fee ment:
It was a time when Guilt did feare no censure,
But loue, and peace, and charity was then sure.
Now fathers (for their bread) dig and delue it.
The whilst the Sutten Sons are liu'd with Veluet
Thus doe I make a hotch potch mesle of Ne [...]s [...]
In darke Enigmaes, and strange sence vpon sence:
It is not foolish all, nor is it wise all,
Nor is it true in all, nor is it lies all.
I haue not sh [...]w'd my wits acute or fluent,
Nor told which way of late the wādring Iew were
For mine owne part I neuer cared greatly,
(So I fare well) where those that dresse the meat [...]
A miserable Knaue may be close fisted,
And prodigall expence may be resisted,
I neither care what Tom, or Iacke, or Dicke sed,
I am resolu'd and my mind is fixed,
The case is, not as he or I, or you sed,
Truth must be fonnd, and witnesses produced,
My care is, that no captious Reader beare hence,
My vnderstanding, wit, or reason here-hence.
On purpose to no purpose I did write all,
And so at noone, I bid you here good night all.
THen with a tuchbox of transalpine tarre,
Turning thrice round, and stirring not a iot,
He threw fiue tunne of red hot purple Snow,
Into a Pigmeis mouth, nine inches square,
Which strait with melancholly mou'd,
Old Bembus Burgomaster of P [...]ckt-hatch,
That plunging through the Sea of Turnebull stree [...],
He safely did ariue at Smithfield Barres.
Then did the Turnetripes on the Coast of Franc [...],
Catch fifteene hundred thousand Grashoppers,
With foureteene Spanish Needles bumbasted,
Poach'd with the Egs of fourscore Flanders Mares,
Mounted vpon the foote of Cancasus,
They whorld the football of conspiring fate,
And brake the shinnes of smugfac'd Mulciber:
With that grim Pluto all in Scarlet blue,
Gaue faire Proserpina a kisse of brasse,
At which all Hell danc'd Trenchmore in a string,
Whilst Ach [...]ron, and Termagant did sing.
The Mold warp all this while in white broth bath'd,
Did Carroll Didoes happinesse in loue,
Vpon a Gridiron made of w [...]ting-mops,
Vnto the tune of Iohn come kisse me now,
At which Auernus Musicke gan to rore,
Inthron'd vpon a seat of three-leau'd grasse,
Whilst all the Hibernian Kernes in multitudes,
Did feast with Shamerags stew'd in Vsquebagh,
At which a banquet made of Monopolies,
Tooke great distaste, because the Pillory
Was hunger-star [...]'d for want of Villianes eares,
Whom to relieue, there was a Mittimus,
Sent from Tartaria in an Oyster Boate,
[Page 5]At which the King of China was amaz'd,
And with nine gra [...]'s of Rewba [...]be stellified,
As low as to the altitude of shame,
He thrust foure Onions in a Candle-case,
And s [...]ld the meaning of the worlds misdoubt,
Thus with a Dialogue of crimson starch,
I was inflamed with a num-cold fire,
Vpon the tenter hookes of Charlemaine.
The Dogstar howld, the Cat a Mountaine smilde,
And Si [...] dranke Muskadell and Egges,
In the [...]nd hoofe of huge Bucephalus,
Time turn'd about, and shew'd me yesterday,
Clad in a Cowne of mourning had I wist,
The motion was almost too late they said,
Whilst sad despaire made all the World starke mad,
They all arose, and I put vp my pen,
It makes no matter, where, why, how, or when.

Some Sence at last to the Learned.

YOu that in Greeke and Latine learned are,
And of the ancient Hebrew haue a share,
You that most rarely oftentimes haue sung
In the French, Spanish, or Italian tongue,
Here I in English haue imployd my pen,
To be read by the learnedst Englishmen,
Wherein the meanest Scholler plaine may see,
I vnderstand their tongues, as they doe me.

AS MVCH HAPPINESSE AS MAY BE WISHED, ATTEND THE Two hopefull Impes, of Gentility and Learning, M r RICHARD and GEORGE HATTON.

YOu forward Payre, in Towardly Designes,
To you I send these sowsde Salt-water Lines:
Accept, Reade, Laugh, and breathe, and to't againe,
And still my Muse, and I, shall yours remaine.
IOHN TAYLOR.

PROLOGVE.

I Now intend a Voyage here in Wri [...],
From London vnto Yorke, helpe to [...]dire,
Great Neptune lend thy Ayde to me, [...]
Through thy tempestuous W [...]ues with ma [...]y a blast,
And then I'le true describe the Townes, and men,
And manners, as I went and came age [...]n.

A Very Merrie VVherrie-Ferry­VOYAGE. OR, YORKE for my Money.

THe Yeere which I doe call as others doe,
Full 1600. adding twenty a two:
The Month of Iuly that's for euer fam'd,
(Because 'twas so by b Iulius Caesar nam'd)
Iust when sixe dayes, and to each Day a Night,
The dogged c Dog-dayes had begun to bite,
On that day which doth blest Remembrance bring,
The name of an Apostle, and our King,
On that remarkeable good day, Saint Iames,
I vndertooke my Voyage downe the Thames.
The signe in d Cancer, or the Ribs and Brest,
And AEolus blew sweetly, West Southwest.
Then after many farewels, Cups and Glasses,
(Which oftentimes hath made men worse then Asses
About the waste or e Nauell of the Day,
Not being dry or Drunke, I went my way.
Out wherry somewhat old, or strucke in age,
That had endur'd neere 4. yeeres Pilgrimage,
And carried honest people, Whores, and Thieues,
Some Sergeants, Bayliffes, and some f vnder-Shrieues,
And now at last was her lot to be
Th'aduentrous bonny Barke to carry me.
But as an old Whores Beauty being gone
Hides Natures wracke, with Artlike painting on:
So I with Colours finely did repaire
My Boats defaults, and made her fresh and faire.
Thus being furnish'd with good Wine and Beere,
And Bread and Meat (to banish hungers feare)
With Sayles, with Anker, Cables, Sculs and Oares,
With Carde and Compasse, to know Seas & Shores,
With Lanthorne, Candle, Tinder-box and Match,
And with good Courage, to work, ward, and watch,
Wel man'd, wel ship'd, wel victual'd, we appointed,
Well in good health, well timbred and wel ioynted:
All wholly well, and yet not halfe Fox'd well,
Twixt Kent, and Essex, we to Grauesend fell.
There I had welcome of my friendly Host,
(A Grauesend Trencher, and a Grauesend Tost)
Good meat and lodging at an easie rate,
And rose betimes, although I lay downe late.
Bright Lucifer the Messenger of Day,
His burnisht twinkling splendour did display:
Rose cheek'd Aurora hid her blushing face,
She spying Phoebus comming gaue him place,
Whilst Zephirus, and Auster, mix'd together,
Breath'd gently, as fore-boding pleasant weather.
Old Neptune had his Daughter Thames supplide,
With ample measure of a flowing Tide,
But Thames supposde it was but borrowed goods,
And with her Ebbes, paid Neptune backe his Floods.
Then at the time of this Auspicious dawning,
I rowzd my men, who Scrubbing, stretching, yaw­ning,
Arose, left Gra [...]esend, Rowing downe the streame,
And neere to Lee, we to an Ancker came.
Because the Sands were bare, and Water low,
We rested there, till it two houres did Flow:
And then to trauell went our Galley foyst,
Our Ancker quickly weigh'd, our sayle vp hoyst,
Where thirty miles we past, a mile from shore,
The water two * foot deepe, or little more.
Thus past we on the braue East Saxon Coast,
From 3. at morne, till 2. at noone almost,
By Shobury, Wakering, Fowl [...]nesse, Tutingham,
And then we into deeper water came.
There is a crooked Bay runnes winding farre,
To Maulden, Estersord, and Colchester,
Which cause twas much about, (to ease mens paine)
I left the Land, and put into the mayne.
[Page 8]With speed, the crooked way to scape and passe,
I made out strait for Frinton and the Nasse.
But being 3. Leagues then from any Land,
And holding of our Maine-sheate in my hand,
We did espy a cole-blacke Cloud to rise,
Fore-runner of some Tempest from the Skies;
Scarce had we sayl'd a hundred times our length,
But that the winde began to gather strength:
Stiffe Eolus with Neptune went to Cuffes:
With huffes, and puffes, and angry Counter-Buffes,
From boy sterous gusts, they fell to fearefull flawes,
Whilst we 'twixt wind & water, neer Deaths jaws,
Tost like a Corke vpon the mounting maine,
Vp with a whiffe, and straightway downe againe,
At which we in our mindes much troubled were,
And said, God blesse vs all, what weather's here?
For (in a word) the Seas so high did grow,
That Ships were forc'd to strike their topsails low:
Meane time (before the winde) we scudded braue,
Much like a Ducke, on top of euery waue.
But nothing violent is permanent,
And in short space away the Tempest went.
So farewell it; and you that Readers be,
Suppose it was no welcome Guest to me:
My Company and I, it much perplext,
And let it come when I send for it next.
But leauing jesting, Thankes to God I giue,
Twas through his mercy we did scape and liue,
And though these things with mirth I doe expresse,
Yet still I thinke on God with thankfulnesse.
Thus ceast the Storme, and weather gan to smile,
And we row'd neere the shoare of Horsey Ile.
Then did illustrious Titan gin to steepe
His Chariot in the Westerne Ocean deepe:
We saw the [...]arre-spent Day, withdraw his light,
And made for Harwich, where we lay all night.
There did I finde an Hostesse with a Tongue
As nimble as it had on Gimmols hung:
'Twill neuer tyre, though it continuall toyl'd,'
And went as yare, as if it had bin Oyl'd:
All's one for that, for ought which I perceiue,
It is a fault which all our Mothers haue:
And is so firmely grafted in the Sexe,
That he's an Asse that seemes thereat to vexe.
Apollo [...]s becames began to guild the Hils,
And West Southwest the winde the Welkin fi [...]s,
When I left Harwich, and along we' Row'd
Against a smooth calme stood that stifly flow'd,
By Bawdsey Hauen, and by Orsord Nasse,
And so by Aldbrough we at last did passe.
By Lestoffe we to Yarmouth made our way,
Our third dayes trauell being Saturday,
There did I see a Towne well fortifide,
Well gouern'd, with all Natures wants supplide;
The situation in a wholsome ayre,
The buildings (for the most part) sumptuous, faire,
The people courteous, and industrious, and
With labour makes the Sea inrich the Land.
Besides (for ought I know) this one thing more,
The Towne can scarcely yeeld a man a Whore:
It is renownd for Fishing, farre and neere,
And sure in Britaine it hath not a Peere.
But noble Nash, thy fame shall liue alwaies,
Thy witty Pamphlet, the red * Herring praise,
Hath done great Yarmouth much renowned right,
And put my artlesse Muse to silent quite.
On Sunday we a learned Sermon had,
Taught to confirme the good, reforme the bad;
Acquaintance in the Towne I scarce had any,
And sought for none, in feare to finde too many,
Much kindnesse to me by mine Host was done,
(A Mariner nam'd William Richardson)
Besides mine Hostesse gaue to me at last
A Cheese, with which at Sea we brake our fast,
The gift was round, and had no end indeed,
But yet we made an end of it with speed:
My thankes surmounts her bounty, all men sees
My gratitudes in Print: But where's the Cheese?
So on the Munday, betwixt one and twaine,
I tooke my leaue, and put to Sea againe,
Down Yarmouth Road we'row'd with cutting speed,
(The winde all quiet, Armes must doe the deed)
Along by Castor, and Sea-bordring Townes,
Whose Cliffes & shores abide stern Neptunes frowns,
Sometimes a mile from land, and sometimes two,
(As depthes or sands permitted vs to doe)
Till drawing toward night, we did perceiue
The winde at East, and Seas began to heaue:
The rowling Billowes all in fury roares
And tumbled vs, we scarce could vse our Oares:
Thus on a Lee-shore darknesse 'gan to come,
The Sea grew high, the winds 'gan hisse and hum:
The foaming curled waues the shore did beate,
(As if the Ocean would all Norfolke [...]ate)
To keepe at Sea, was dangerous I did thinke,
To goe to Land I stood in doubt to sinke:
Thus landing, or not landing (I suppos'd)
We were in perill * round about inclos'd;
At last to rowe to shore I thought it b [...]st,
Mongst many euils, thinking that the least:
My men all pleas'd to doe as I command,
Did turne the Boats head opposite to land,
And with the highest waue that I could spie,
I bade them rowe to shore immediately.
When straight we all leap'd ouer-boord in haste,
Some to the knees and some vp to the waste,
Where sodainely 'twixt Owle-light and the darke,
We pluck'd the Boat beyond high-water marke.
And thus halfe sowsd, halfe stewd, with Sea & sw [...]
[Page 9]We land at Cromer Towne, halfe dry, halfe wet.
But we supposing all was safe and well,
[...] shunning * Sylla, on Caribdis fell:
For why, some Women, and some Children there
That saw vs land, were all possest with feare:
And much amaz'd, ran crying vp and downe,
That Enemies were come to take the Towne.
Some said that we were Pirats, some said Theeues,
And what the women sayes, the men beleeues.
With that foure Constables did quickly call,
Your ayde [...] to Armes you men of Cromer all!
Then straitway forty men with rusty Bils,
Some arm'd in Ale, all of approued skils,
Deuided into foure stout Regiments,
To guard the Towne from dangerous Euents;
Braue Captaine * Pescod did the Vantguard lead,
And Captaine Clarke the Rereward gouerned,
Whilst Captaine Wiseman, and hot Captaine K [...]mble,
Were in the mayne Battalia fierce and nimble:
One with his squadron watch'd me all the night,
Left from my lodging I should take my slight:
A second (like a man of simple note)
Did by the Sea side all night watch my Boate,
The other two, to make their names Renownd,
Did Guard the Town, & brauely walk the Rownd.
And thus my Boat, my selfe, and all my men,
Were stoutly Guarded, and Regarded then:
For they were all so full with feare possest,
That without mirth it cannot be exprest.
My Inuention doth Curuet, my Muse doth Caper,
My pen doth daunce out lines vpon the Paper,
And in a word, I am as full of mirth,
As mighty men are at their first sonnes birth.
Methinkes Moriscoes are within my braines,
And Heyes, and Antiques run through all my veines:
Heigh, to the tune of Trenchmoore I could write
The valiant men of Cromers sad affright:
As Sheepe doe feare the Wolfe, or [...]eese the Fox,
So all amazed were these sencelesse Blockes:
That had the Towne beene fir'd, it is a doubt,
But that the women there had pist it out,
And from the men Reek'd such a fearefull sent,
That people three * miles thence mus'd what it ment,
And he the truth that narrowly had sifted,
Had found the Constables, had need t'haue shifted.
They did examine me, I answer'd than
I was Iohn Taylor, and a Waterman,
And that my honest fellow Iob and I,
Were seruants to King Iames his Maiesty,
How we to Yorke, vpon a Mart were bound,
And that we landed, fearing to be drownd.
When all this would not satisfie the Crew,
I freely op'd my Trunke, and bade them view,
I shew'd them Bookes, of Chronicles and Kings,
Some Prose, some Verse, and idle Sonettings,
I shew'd them all my Letters to the full:
Some to Yorkes Archbishop, and some to Hull,
But had the twelue Apostles sure beene there
My witnesses, I had beene ne'r the * neere.
And let the vse all Oathes that I could vse,
They still were harder of beliefe then Iewes.
They wanted faith, and had resolu'd before,
Not to beleeue what e'er we said or swore.
They said the world was full of much deceit,
And that my Letters might be * counterfeit:
Besides, there's one thing bred the more dislike,
Because mine Host was knowne a Catholike.
These things concurring, people came in Clusters,
And multitudes within my lodging Musters,
That I was almost wooried vnto death,
In danger to be stifled with their breath.
And had mine Host tooke pence apiece of those
Who came to gaze on me, I doe suppose,
No Iack an Apes; Baboone, or Crocodile
E'r got more mony in so small a * while.
Besides, the pesants did this one thing more,
They call'd and dranke foure shillings on my score:
And like vnmanner'd Mungrells went their way,
Not spending ought, but leauing me to * pay.
This was the houshold businesse: in meane space
Some Rascals ran vnto my Boat: apace,
And turn'd and tumbled her, like men of Gothare,
Quite topsie turuey vpward with her bottome,
Vowing they would in tatters piece-meale teare
The cursed Pirates Boate, that bred their feare;
And I am sure, their madnesse (to my harme)
Torca Boord out, much longer then mine arme.
And they so brus'd, and split our Wherry, that
She leak'd, we cast out water with a Hat.
Now let men iudge, vpon this truths reuealing,
If Turks or Mores could vse more [...]'rous dealing;
Or whether it be fit I should not write
Their enuy, foolish feare, and mad despight.
What may wise men conceiue, when they shal note,
That fiue vnarm'd men, in a Wherry Boate,
Nought to defend, or to offend with stripes,
But one old * sword, and two Tobacco-Pipes,
And that of Constables a Murninall,
Men, women, children, all in generall,
And that they all should be so valiant, wise,
To feare we would a Market Towne surprise.
Inail that's writ, I vow I am no lyer,
[Page 10]I muse the Beacons were not set on fire.
The dreadfull names of Talbot, or of Dr [...]k [...],
Ne'r made the [...]oes of England more to quake
Then I made Cromer; for their feare and dolor,
Each mā might smel out by his neighbors * Collor.
At last, the ioyfull morning did approach,
And Sol began to mount his flaming Coach:
Then did I thinke my Purgatory done,
And rose betimes intending to be gone;
But holla, stay, 'twas otherwayes with me,
The messe of Constables were shrunke to three:
Sweet M r Pescods double diligence
Had horst himselfe, to beare intelligence
To Iustices of Peace within the land,
What dangerous businesse there was now in hand:
There was I forc'd to tarry all the while,
Till some said he rode foure and twenty mile,
In seeking men of worship, peace and quorum,
Most wisely to declare strange newes before vm.
And whatsoeuer tales he did recite,
I'm sure he caus'd Sir Austin Palgraus, Knight,
And M r Robert Kempe a Iustice there
Came before me, to know how matters were.
As conference 'twixt them and I did passe,
They quickly vnderstood me what I was:
And though they knew me not in prose and lookes,
They had read of me in my verse, and bookes;
My businesses account I there did make,
And I and all my company did take
The lawfull Oath of our Allegeance then,
By which we were beleeu'd for honest men.
In duty, and in all humility
I doe acknowledge the kinde courtesie
Of those two Gentlemen; for they did see,
How much the people were deceiu'd in me.
They gaue me Coyne, and Wine, and Suger too,
And did as much as lay in them to doe,
To finde them that my Boat had torne and rent,
And so to giue them worthy punishment.
Besides Sir * Austin Palgraue bade me this,
To goe but foure miles, where his Dwelling is,
And I and all my Company should there
Finde friendly Welcome, mix'd with other Cheare.
I gaue them thankes, and so I'l giue them still,
And did accept their Cheare in their good will.
Then 3. a Clocke at afternoone and past,
I was Dischar'd from Cromer at the last.
But for men shall not thinke that Enuiously
Against this Towne I let my Lines to flye:
And that I doe not lie, or scoffe, or fable,
For them I wil write something Charitable.
It is an Ancient Market Towne that stands
Vpon a lofty Cliffe of mouldring Sands:
The Sea against the Cliffes doth daily beate,
And euery tyde into the Land doth eate,
The Towne is poore, vnable by Expence,
Against the raging Sea to make defence:
And euery day it ea [...]eth further in,
Still wasting, washing downe the sand doth win,
That if some course be not tane speedily,
The Town's in danger in the Sea to lye.
A goodly Church stands on these brittle grounds,
Not many fairer in Great Britaines bounds:
And if the Sea shall swallow't, as some feare,
Tis not ten thousand pounds the like could reare.
No Christian can behold it but with griefe,
And with my heart I wish them quicke reliefe.
So farewell Cromer, I haue spoke for thee,
Though thou didst much vnkindly deale with me,
And honest Mariners, I thanke you there,
Laboriously you in your armes did beare
My Boat for me, three furlongs at the least,
When as the tyde of Ebbe was so decreast,
You waded, and you launch'd her quite afloate,
And on your backes you bore vs to our Boate.
Th' vnkindnesse that I had before, it come,
Because the Constables were troublesome:
Long'd to be busie, would be men of action,
Whose labours was their trauels satisfaction:
Who all were borne when wit was out of Towne,
And therefore got but little of their owne:
So farewell Pescod, Wiseman, Kimble. * Clarke,
Foure sonnes of Ignorance (or much more dark)
You made me lose a day of braue calme weather.
So once againe farewell, fare ill together.
Then 'longst the Norfolke Coast we row 'dout-right
To Black [...]ey, when we saw the comming Night,
The burning eye of Day began to winke,
And into Thetis lap his beames to shrinke.
And as he went, stain'd the departed Skye,
With red, blue, purple, and vermillion Dye,
Till all our Hemisphere laments his lacke,
And mourning night puts on a Robe of blacke,
Bespangled diuersly with golden sparkes,
Some moueable, some Sea-mens fixed markes.
The milky way that blest Astrea went,
When as she left this Earthly continent,
Shew'd like a Christall cawsey to the Thrones
Of Ioue and Sa [...]rn [...], pau'd with precious Stones.
Old Oceanus, Neptune, * Iunachu [...],
And two and thirty huffe-capt AEolus,
Had all tane truce and were in league combin'd,
No billowes foaming, or no breath of Winde;
The solid Earth, the Ayre, the Ocean deepe
Seem'd as the whole world had bin fast asleepe.
In such a pleasant Euen as this came I
To Blackney, with my Ship and Company.
[Page 11]Thereas I found my ent [...]rtainment good
[...] welcome, drinking, lodging, and for food.
[...]he morrow when Latonaes Sunne 'gan rise,
[...]nd with his Light illumines mortall eyes:
When Cocks did Crow, & Lambes did bleat & bl [...]a,
[...]mounted from my Couch, and put to Sea.
[...]ike Glasse the Oceans face was smooth and calme,
The gentle Ayre breath'd like Arabian Balme,
[...], stormes and flawes, lay sleeping in their Cels,
Whilst with much labour we Row'd o'r the Welles.
[...]his was the greatest * Day of worke indeed.
[...]nd it behou'd vs much, to make much speed:
[...]or why, before that day did quite expire, [...]
[...]epast the dangerous Wash, to Lincolnshire.
And there in three houres space and little more,'
We Row'd to Boston from the Norfolke shore:
Which by Report of people that dwell there,
[...] six and twenty mile, or very neere.
[...]he way vnknowne, and we no Pilot had,
[...], Sands and Shoales; and Tydes all raging mad,
[...]hen Sands our passage many times denide,
[...] put vs sometimes * three or foure miles wide,
[...]ides the Flood runs there, with such great force,
[...]at I imagine it out-runnes a Horse:
[...]nd with a head some 4.foot high that Rores,
[...] on the sodaine swels and beats the Shores.
[...]umbled vs a ground vpon the Sands,
[...]nd all that we could doe with wit, or hands,
[...]o [...]ld not resist it, but we were in doubt,
[...] would haue beaten our Boates bottome out.
[...]hath lesse mercy then Beare, Wolfe, or Tyger,
[...]nd in those Countries it is call'd the * Hyger.
We much were vnacquainted with those fashions,
[...]nd much it troubled vs with sundry passions:
[...]e thought the shore we neuer should recouer,
[...]nd look'd still when our Boat would tumble ouer.
[...] He that made all with his word of might,
[...]ought vs to Boston, where we lodg'd all night.
[...] morrow morning when the Sun 'gan peepe,
[...]wak'd and rub'd mine eyes, and shak'd off sleepe,
[...]d vnderstanding that the Riuer went,
[...]om Boston vp to Lincolne, and to Trent,
[...]mber, Owse Yorke, and (taking paine)
[...]e need not come in sight of Sea againe,
[...]ik'd the motion, and made haste away
[...] Lincolne, which was 50.mile, that Day:
[...]ich City in the 3.King Edwards Raigne,
[...]s th' onely staple, for this Kingdomes gaine
[...]or, Leather, Lead, and Wooll, and then was seene
[...]ue times ten Churches there, but now Fifteene:
[...] bra [...]e Cathedrall Church there now doth stand,
[...]hat searcely hath a fellow in this Land:
Tis for a Godly vse, a goodly Frame,
And beares the blessed Virgin Maries name.
The Towne is Ancient, and by course of Fate,
Through Warres, and Time, defac'd and Ruinate,
But Monarchies, & Empires, Kingdomes, Crowns,
Haue rose or fell, as Fortune smiles or frownes:
And Townes, and Cities haue their portions had
Of time-tost Variations, good and bad.
There is a Prouerbe, part of which is this,
They say that Lincolne was, and London is.
From thence we past a Ditch of Weeds and Mud,
Which they doe (falsly) there call * Forcedike Flood:
For I'l be sworne, no flood I could finde there,
But dirt & filth, which scarce my Boat would beare,
'Tis 8. miles long, and there our paines was such.
As all our trauell did not seeme so much,
My men did wade and draw the Boate like Horses,
And scarce could tugge her on with all our forces:
Moyl'd, toyl'd, myr'd, tyr'd, stil labr'ing, euer doing,
Yet were we 9.long houres that 8.miles going.
At last when as the Day was well-nigh spent,
We gat from Forcedikes floodles [...]e flood to Trent.
Eu'n as the Windowes of the Day did shut,
Downe Trents swift streame, to Gainsburough we put,
There did we rest vntill the morning Starre,
The ioyfull doores of Dawning did vn-barre:
To Humbers churlish streams, our Course we fram'd,
So Nam'd, for Drowning of a King so nam'd.
And there the swift Ebbe tide ranne in such sort,
The Winde at East, the Waues brake thick & short,
That in some doubts, it me began to strike,
For in my life, I ne'r had seene the like.
My way was vp to Yorke, but my intent
Was contrary, for from the fall of Trent
I * fifteene mile went downewards East Northeast,
When as my way was vpward West Southwest.
And as against the Wind we madly venter,
The Waues like Pirats boord our Boate and enter,
But though they came in fury, and amaine,
Like Theeues we cast them ouer-boord againe.
This Conflict lasted two houres to the full,
Vntill we gate to Kingston vpon Hull:
For to that Towne I had a Prooued friend,
That Letters did and Commendations send
By me vnto the worthy Magistrate,
The Maior, and some of's Brethren, in that State.
Besides I had some Letters, of like Charge,
From my good Friend, the Master of the Barge,
Vnto some friends of his, that they would there
[Page 12]Giue me * Hull Cheese, & welcome & good Cheere.
Sunday at M r Maiors much Cheere and Wine,
Where as the Hall did in the Parlour Dine,
At night with one that had bin Shrieue I Sup'd,
Well entertain'd I was, and halfe well Cup'd:
On Munday noone, I was inuited than
To a graue Iusticer, an Alderman,
And there such Cheere as Earth and Waters yeeld,
Shew'd like a Haruest in a plentious Field.
Another I must thanke for his Good will,
For he Prest * on to bid me welcome still.
There is a Captaine of good Life and Fame,
And, God * with vs, I oft haue call'd his Name.
He welcom'd me, as I had bin his fellow,
Lent me his silken Colours, Blacke and Yellow,
Which to our Mast made fast, we with a Drum
Did keepe, till we to Yorke in Triumph come.
Thankes to my louing Host and Hostesse Pease,
There at mine Inne, each Night I tooke mine ease:
And there I gat a Cantle of Hull Cheese
One Euening late, I thanke thee * Machabees.
Kind Roger Parker, many thankes to thee,
Thou shew'dst much vndeserued loue to me,
Layd my Boat safe, spent time, Coyne and endeauor,
And mad'st my mony counted Copper euer:
But as at Feasts, the first Course being past,
Men doe reserue their Dainties till the last,
So my most thankes I euer whil'st I liue,
Will to the Maior, and his Brethren giue,
But most of all, to shut vp all together
I giue him thankes that did Commend * me thither,
Their Loues (like Humber) ouerflow'd the bankes,
And though I Ebbe in worth, I'l flow in Thankes.
Thus leauing off the Men, now of the Towne
Some things which I obseru'd I'l here set downe:
And partly to declare it's praise and worth,
It is the onely Bulwarke of the North.
All other Townes for strength to it may strike,
And all the Northerne parts haue not the like.
The people from the Sea much Wealth haue wonne,
Each man doth liue as he were Neptunes Sonne.
Th'Antiquity thereof a man may Reede
In Reuerend Cambdens workes, and painfull Speede:
How in King Edwards Raigne first of that Name
Then called Wike. Then did they Kingston frame,
And then the Townesmen cut a * Riuer there,
An ex'lent Hauen, a Defence or Peere:
Built with excessiue Charge, to saue it from
Fierce Humbers Raging, that each Tyde doth come.
From time to time, more Greatnesse still it gaind,
Till lately whē the Eighth King Henry Raign'd,
He made it greater, by his oft Resort,
And many times kept there his Royall Court,
He Wall'd it well, built Battlements, and Gates,
And (more with Honour to augment their States)
He built two Blockhouses, and Castle strong,
To Guard the Towne from all Inuasiue wrong,
He gaue thē much Munition, Swords, Shafts, Bowes,
And Brazen Ordnance, as the world well knowes,
Which Guns he gaue them for the Towns defence,
But were in 88. all borrowed thence,
With promise they againe should be sentbacke:
But the performance euer hath beene slacke.
Now in this Yron age, their Guns I see,
Are mettle like the Age, and Yron be:
And glad they would be, if they could obtaine,
To change that mettle, for their owne againe.
Foure well built Gates, with bolts, & lockes, & bars,
For ornament or strength, in Peace or Wars:
Besides, to keepe their Foes the further out,
They can Drowne all the Land three miles about.
'Tis plentifully seru'd with Flesh and Fish,
As cheape, as reasonable men can wish.
And thus by Gods grace, and mans industry,
Dame Nature, or mens Art doth it supply.
Some 10.yeeres since Fresh water there was s [...],
But with much Cost they haue suppli'd that wa [...];
By a most ex'lent Water-worke that's made,
And to the Towne in Pipes it is conuai'd,
Wrought with most Artificiall engines, and
Perform'd by th'Art of the Industrious hand
Of M r * William Maultby, Gentleman,
So that each man of Note there alwayes can
But [...] turne a Cocke within his House, and still
They haue Fresh-water alwayes at their will,
This haue they all vnto their Great Content,
For which, they each doe pay a yeerely Rent.
There is a Prouerbe, and a Prayer withall,
That we may not to three strange places fall:
From Hull, from Hallifax, from Hell, 'tis thus,
From all these three, Good Lord deliuer vs.
This praying Prouerb's meaning to set downe,
Men doe not wish deliuerance from the Towne:
The Town's nam'd Kingston, Hul's the furious Riuer:
And from Hulls dangers, I say, Lord deliuer.
At Hallifax, the Law so sharpe doth deale,
That whoso more then 13.Pence doth steale,
They haue a Iyn that wondrous quicke and well,
Sends Thieues all headlesse vnto Heau'n or Hell.
From Hell each man sayes, Lord deliuer me,
Because from Hell can no Redemption be:
Men may escape from Hull and Hallifax,
But sure in Hell there is a heauier taxe,
Let each one for themselues in this agree,
[Page 13]And pray, From Hell good Lord del [...]r me.
[...]he Prouerbe and the Prayer expounded plaine,
[...]ow to the Orders of the Towne againe:
[...]it merits praise for Gouernment,
[...]or [...] then all Townes in Britaines continent,
[...] first their Charity doth much appeare,
[...]hey for the Poore haue so prouided there,
[...]at if a man should walke from Morne till Night,
[...] shall not see one Begger; nor a Mite
[...] my thing shall be demanded euer,
[...]uery one there doth their best endeauour
[...]o make the Idle worke, and to relieue
[...] that are old and past, or Sicknesse grieue.
[...]poore mens Children haue a House most fit,
[...]hereas they Sowe, & Spin, [...]nd Card, and Knit:
[...]here all of them haue something still to doe,
[...]s their Capacities will reach vnto,
[...]o that no ldle person, Old or Young
[...]ithin the Towne doth harbour or belong.
[...] yeerely costs fiue hundred pounds besides,
[...]o s [...]nce the Towne, from Hull and Humbers tydes,
[...]or Stakes, for Bauins, Timber, Stones, and Piles,
[...]which are brought by Water many miles,
[...]or Workmens labour, and a world of things,
[...]hich on the Towne excessiue charges brings.
[...]hich with perili, industry and sweat,
[...]hey from the bowels of the Ocean get.
[...]hey haue a Bridewell, and an ex'lent skill,
[...]o make some people worke against their will:
[...]nd there they haue their Lodging and their meat,
[...] Whips a [...]uery thing exceeding neat:
[...]nd thus [...]foule meanes alwayes, they
[...] idle [...]time to play.
[...]sides for euery [...] a or Marine cause
[...]hey haue a house of Trinity, whose Lawes
[...]nd Orders doe Confirme, or else Reforme
[...]hat which is right, or that which wrongs deform.
[...] is a comely built well ordred Place,
[...] that which most of all the House doth grace,
[...]re roomes for Widowes, who are old and poore,
[...]nd haue bin Wiues to Mariners before.
[...]hey are for House-roome, food, or lodging, or
[...]or firing, Christianly prouided for,
[...]nd as some dye, some doe their places win,
[...]s one goes out, another doth come in.
[...]ld I in all things giue the Towne it's due,
[...]ome fooles would say I slatter'd, spake vntrue:
[...]r that I part [...]all in my writings were,
[...]ecause they made me welcome, and good cheare:
[...]ut for all those that haue such thoughts of mee,
[...] rather wish that them I hang'd may see,
[...]hen that they iustly could report, that I
Did Rime for victuals, hunger to supply;
Or that my Muse, or working braines should beat,
[...]o flatter, f [...]wne, or lye, for drinke or meat: 198
Let Trencher-Poets scrape for such base vailes,
I'l take an Oare in hand when writing sailes;
And 'twixt the Boat and Pen, I ma [...] no doubt,
But I shall shift to picke a liuing out,
Without base flatt'ry, or fal [...]e coyned words,
To mowld: Madams, or vnworthy Lords;
Or whatso'er degree, or Townes [...] Nations;
I euer did, and still will scorne such fashions.
Heare-say, * sometimes vpon a lye may sight,
But what I see and know, I dare to write.
Mine eyes did view, before my pen set downe,
These things that I haue written of this Towne:
A new built Custome-house, a faire Towne-Hall,
For solemne meetings, or a Festiuall:
A Maior, twelue Aldermen, one Shrieue, Recorder,
A Towne-Clarke, altogether in one order,
And vniformity doe gouerne so,
They need not slatter friend, or feare a foe,
A Sword, a Cap of maintenance, a Mace
Great, and well Guilt, to do the Towne more grace:
Are borne before the Maior, and Aldermen,
And on Festiuities, or high dayes then,
Those Magistrates their Scarlet Gownes doe weare,
And haue sixe Sergeants to attend each yeare.
Now let men say what Towne in England is,
That truly can compare it selfe with this:
For Scituation, strength and Gouernment,
For Charity, for Plenty, for Content,
For state? And one thing more I there was told,
Not one Recusant all the Towne doth hold,
Nor (as they say) ther's not a Puritan,
Or any nose-wise foole Precisian,
But great and small, with one consent and will,
Obey his Maiesties Iniunctions still.
They say that once therein two Sisters dwelt,
Which inwardly the pricke of Conscience felt,
They came to London, (hauing wherewithail)
To buy two Bibles, all Canonicall,
Th' Apocry [...]ha did put them in some doubt,
And therefore both their bookes were bound without.
Except those two, I ne'r did heare of any
At Hull, though many places haue too many.
But as one scabbed sheepe a slocke may marre,
So there's one man, whose nose did stand a jarre:
Talk'd very scuruily, and look'd ascue,
Because I in a worthy Towns-mans Pue
Was plac'd at Church, when (God knowes I ne'r thought,
To sit there, I was by the Owner brought.
This Squire of low degree displeased than,
Said, I at most was but a Water-man,
And that they such great kindnesse setting forth,
Made more a'th flesh, then e'r the broth was worth:
Which I confesse, but yet I answer make,
'Twas more then I with manners could forsake:
He sure is some high-minded Pharisee,
[Page 14]Or else infected with their heresie,
And must be set downe in their Catalogues,
They lou'd the highest seats in Synagogues,
And so (perhaps) doth he, for ought I know,
He may be mounted, when I sit below:
But let him not a Water-man despise,
For from the water he himselfe did rise,
And windes and water both on him haue smil'd,
Else, The great Marchant he had ne'r bin stil'd:
His Character I finely will contrue,
He's scornefull proud, and talking talkatiue:
A great Ingrosser of strange speech and newes,
And one that would sit in the highest Pues,
But bate an Ace, he'l hardly winne the game,
And if I list, I could rake * out his name.
Thanks M r. Maior, for my Bacon Gammon,
Thankes Roger Parker, for my small fresh Sammon,
'Twas ex'lent good, and more the truth to tell ye,
Boyl'd with a fine Plum-Pudding in the belly.
The sixth of August, well accompani'd
With best of Townes-men to the waters side,
There did I take my leaue and to my Ship
I with my Drum and Colors quickly skip:
The one did dub a dub and rumble, braue
The Ensigne in the aire did play and waue:
I launc'd, supposing all things had bin done,
Bownce, from the [...]lock-house, quoth a roaring Gun.
And wauing Hats on both sides with content
I cri'd Adiew, adiew, and thence we went
Vp H [...]mbers [...]ood that then amaine did swell,
Windes calme, and water quiet as a Well:
We Row'd to Owse with all our force and might,
To Cawood, where we well were lodg'd all night.
The morrow, when as Phoebus 'gan to smile,
I forwards set to Yorke eight little mile:
But two miles short of Yorke I landed than,
To see that reuerend * Metropolitan,
That watchful Shepheard, that with care doth keep
Th' infernall Wolfe, from Heau'ns supernall Sheepe:
The painefull Preacher, that most free Almes-giuer,
That though he liue long, is too short a liuer:
That man, whose age the poore doe all lament,
All knowing, when his Pilgrimage is spent,
When Earth to Earth returnes, as Natures debter,
They feare the Prouerbe, S [...]ldome comes the better,
His Doctrine and example speake his due,
And what all people sayes, must needs be true.
In duty I most humbly thanke his Grace,
He at his Table made me haue a place,
And meat and drinke, and gold he gaue me there,
Whilst [...]l my Crue i'th Hal were fill'd with cheare:
So hauing din'd, from thence we quickly past,
Through Owse strong Bridge, to York faire City [...]
Our drowning scap'd, more danger was ensuing,
'Twas Size time there, and hanging was a brewi [...]
But had our faults beene ne'r so Capitall,
We at the Vintners Barre durst answer all.
Then to the good Lord Maior I went, and told
What labour, and what dangers manifold,
My fellow and my selfe had past at Seas.
And if it might his noble Lordship please,
The Boat that did from London thither swim
With vs, in duty we would giue to him.
His Lordship pawsing, with a reuerend hum,
My friend (quoth he) to morrow morning come:
In the meane space I'l of the matter thinke,
And so he bade me to goe nee'r and drinke.
I dranke a Cup of Claret and some Beere.
And sure (for ought I know) he a keeps good che [...]
I gaue his Lordship in red guilded leather,
A well bound booke of all my Workes together,
Which he did take b.
There in the City were some men of note,
That gl [...]dly would giue money for our Boat:
But all this while good manners bade vs stay,
To haue my good Lord Maiors yea, or nay.
But after long demurring of the matter c,
He well was pleas'd to see her on the water,
And then my men Row'd halfe an houre or more,
Whilst he stood viewing her vpon the shore.
They bore his Lordships Children in her there,
And many others, as she well could beare.
At which his Honour was exceeding merry,
Saying it was a pretty nimble Wherry:
But when my men had taken all this paines,
Into their eyes they might haue put their gaines,
Vnto his shop he did d perambulate,
And there amongst his Barres of Iron sate.
I ask'd him if he would our Boat forgoe,
Or haue her? And his Lordship answer'd, No.
I tooke him at his word, and said, God buy,
And gladly with my Boat away went I.
I sold the Boat, as I suppos'd most meet,
To honest e M r. Kayes in Cunny street:
He entertain'd me well, for which I thanke him,
And gratefully amongst my friends I'l ranke him,
My kind remembrance here I put in paper,
To worthy M r. Hemsworth there a Draper.
Amongst the rest he's one that I must thanke,
[Page 15]With his good wife, and honest brother Frank.
Now for the City: 'Tis of state and Port,
Where Emperors & Kings haue kept their Court,
939, yeere the foundation
Was layd, before our Sauiours Incarnation,
By * Ebrank who a Temple there did reare,
And plac'd a * Flammin to Diana there:
But when King Lucius here the Scepter swaid,
The Idols leuell with the ground were layd,
Then Eleutherius, Romes high Bishop plac'd,
An Archbishop at Yorke, with Titles grac'd,
Then after Christ 627.
Was Edwin * baptiz'd by the grace of heauen,
He pluck'd the Minster down, that then was wood,
And made it stone, a deed both great and good.
The City oft hath knowne the chance of warres,
Of cruell forraigne, and of home-bred iarres.
And those that further please thereof to read,
May turne the volumes of great Hollinshead,
'Tis large, 'tis pleasant and magnificent,
The Norths most fertile famous ornament:
'Tis rich and populous, and hath indeed
No want of any thing to serue their need,
Abundance doth that noble City make
Much abler to bestow, then need to take.
So farewell Yorke *, the tenth of August then
Away came I for London with my men.
To dinner I to Pomfret quickly rode,
Where good hot Venison staid for my abode,
I thanke the worshipfull George Shillito,
He fill'd my men and me, and let vs goe.
There did I well view ouer twice or thrice,
A strong a faire, and ancient Edifice:
Reedifi'd, where it was ruin'd most,
At th'high and hopefull Prince * of Wales his cost.
I saw the roome where Exton * and his rowt
Of Traytors, Royall Richards braines beat out
And if that King did strike so many blowes,
As hackes and hewes vpon one pillar showes,
There are one hundred slashes, he withstood,
Before the Villaines shed his Kingly blood.
From Pomfret then, vnto my noble friend,
Sir Robert Swift at Doncaster we wend,
An ancient Knight, of a most generous spirit,
Who made me welcome farre beyond my merit.
From thence by Newarke, I to Stam [...]ord past,
And so in time to London at the last,
With friends and neighbors, all with louing hearts,
Did welcome me with pottles, pintes and quarts.
Which made my Muse more glib, and blythe to tell
Thistory of my Voyage. So farewell. *

An Epilogue.

Thus haue I brought to end a worke of paine,
I wish it may requite me with some game:
For well I wote, the dangers where I ventered,
No full bag'd man would euer durst haue entered:
But hauing further shores for to discouer
Hereafter, now my Pen doth here giue ouer.
FINIS.

THE GREAT O TOOLE.

ENglands, Scotlands, Irelands Mirror,
Mars his fellow, Rebels Terror:
These lines doe gallop for their pleasure,
Writ with neither feet or measure;
Because Prose, Verse, or Anticko Story,
Cannot Blaze O Tooles great Glory.
GReat Moguls Landlord, and both Indies King,
(Whose selfe-admiring Fame dot [...] lowdly ring)
Writes 4. score yeeres: More Kingdomes he hath right to,
The Starres say so: And for them be wi [...] Fight to [...].
And though this worthlesse Age will not beleeue him,
But clatter, spatter, slander, scoffe and grieue him,
Yet he and all the world in this agree,
That such another TOOLE will deuer bee.

AN ENCOMIVM OR ENCO-MI-ASS. TRICK, DEDICATED TO THE VNLIMITED memory of Arthur O Toole, or O Toole the Great: Being the Sonne and Heire of Brian O Toole, Lord of Poores Court and farre Collen, in the County of Dublin, in the Kingdome of Ireland. The Mar [...] and Mercury, the Agamemnon and Vlisses both for Wisdome and Valour, in the Kingdomes of Great Britaine and Ireland.
Prologue.

BRaue Vsquebough that fierce Hibernian liquor,
Assist my braine, and make my wit run quicker:
To heat my Muse like to a well warm'd Chimney,
I beg thy merry ayde kinde Polyhimny.
I list not to call Fables into question,
Nor of Baboones, or idle bables jest I on:
And yet if Sence or reason heere you looke for,
For neither, or for either read this Booke for,
And if perchance I doe in any word lye,
Doe, as I writ it, reade it o'r absurdly:
Though in these daies there are a Crew of fond men,
That for inuention striue to goe beyond men,
And write so humerous Dogmaticall,
To please my Lord and Lady what d'ee Cail,
With Inkehorne tearms stiffe quilted & bumbast [...],
And (though not vnderstood) yet are well tasted.
And therefore I'l not reach beyond the bounds of
My weake capacity, nor search the sounds of
Deepe Natures secrets, or Arts spacious cirquit:
My Muse is free from those, my selfe will her qu [...].
But leauing idle toyes, with toyle endure I on,
To write the praise of this braue bold Centuti [...].

THE ARGVMENT AND MEANING of this following History.

IN all Ages and Countries, it hath euer bin knowne, that Famous men haue florished, whose worthy Actions, and Eminency of place, haue euer beene as conspicuous Beacons Burning and blazing to the Spectators view: the sparkes and flames whereof hath sometimes kind­led Courage in the most coldest and Effeminate Cowards; as Thersites amongst the Greci­ans, Amadis de Gaule, & Sir Huon of Burdeaux in France: Sir Beuis, Gogmagog, Chinon, Palmerin, Lancelot, and Sir Tristram amongst vs here in England: Sir De­gre, Sir Grime, and Sir Gray Steele in Scotland; Don Quixot with the Spaniards, Gargantua al­most no where, Sir Dagonet and Sir Triamore any where: all these, and many more of the like Ra [...] haue fill'd whole Volumes, with the ayrie Imaginations of their vnknowne and vnmatchable worths: S [...] Ireland amongst the rest, had the Honor to produce and breed a sparke of Valour, Wisedome, and Magni­nimity, to whom all the Nations of the world must giue place. The Great O Toole, is the toole that my Muse takes in hand, whose praises (if they should be set forth to the full) would make Apollo and the Mu­ses Barren; To whom the nine Worthies were neuer to be compared: betwixt whom, and Haniball, Sci­pio, the Great Pompey, or Tamberlaine, was such oddes, that it was vnfit the best of them should [...]ell his stirrop, and who (by his owne Report) in whom Ireland may reioyce, and England be merry, whose Youth was Dedicated to Mars, and his Age to Westminster, which ancient Cittie, is now honour'd with his beloued Residence.

To the Honour of the Noble CAPTAINE O TOOLE.

THou Famous man, East, West, and North, and
Southward,
[...]om Boreas cold rump, t' Austers slauering mouthward,
[...]all Apolloes daughters all, to witnes,
[...]uch would I praise thee, but my Wit wants fitnes [...]
[...] thou thy selfe (of thy selfe) canst speake so-well,
[...]ut though my Rimes not altogether goe-well,
[...]et if the worlds applause would not attēd thee
[...]ere al tongus mute, thy own tongue wold cōmend thee
[...]hy selfe (vnto thy selfe) art Fames Trump blasting,
[...]o make thy name (like Buffe) tough, long & lasting.
Yet grāt me, thou braue man, that ne'r feard colors)
[...] accept the poore Lines of an Artlesse Scullers:
[...]hy Bilboe oft bath'd in the blood of Foe mans,
[...]ke Cai [...]s Marius, Consull of the Romans:
When thou haft seem'd more dreadfull in thy harnesse,
[...]hen Babels Generall great Holopbernes:
[...]ore in command then was Nabuchadnezzar,
[...]nd more renownd then Cayus Iulius Caesar:
[...]pon thy foes brest thou hast often troad free,
[...]soa the Pagans did braue Boloignes Godfrey.
[...]ierce Meibridates the stout King of Po [...]tus,
[...] thou dost lead vs, dares not to confront vs:
[...]hy matchlesse valour ten to one more tride is,
Then euer was the Libian strong Alcides:
[...]nd all men know that neuer such an od piece
Of fighting mettle, sprung from Mars his Codpiece.
Vpon the maine land and the raging Ocean,
Thy courage hath attaind thee high promotion:
Thou neuer fear'dft to combate with Garganto,
Thy fam's beyond the battaile of Lepanto:
The mighty Alexander of Macedo,
Ne'r sought as thou hast done with thy Tolede.
[...]e hold thee for a worthy, and no base one,
But one that could haue won the fleece from Iason:
Thou durst oppose 'gainst Bore, Beare, Wolfe or Lion,
[...]nd from the torturing wheele to fetch Ixion:
And I acknowledge that thy matchlesse vallour is,
To kill Pasitbaes or the Bull of Phalleris:
Though age hath ouertaine thee, yet thy will is,
To grapple with an Atax or Achilles,
Or with Hells Monarch enuious ill fac'd Pluto,
And proue him by his hornes a dambd Cornu [...].
Thou fearst no Diuell, nor no Demogorgon,
Nor yet the valiant Welchman Shon a Morgan:
So that most Wizards, and most fortune tellers,
Approue thee for the greatst of Monster quellers:
And absolute and potent Dominator,
For War or Counsell both by land and Water:
In times of tumult thou amongst the Irish,
Hast made them skip o'r bogs and quaginires mirish,
Whilst in the pursuit, like an angry Dragon,
Thou mad'st them runne away with not a rag on.
For had thy foes bin Thousands, with thy Pistall,
And thy good sword, thou brauely, wouldst resist all.
Thou wast to vs, as vnto Rome was Titus,
And stoutly sent our foes to blacke Cocities.
To kill, and cut throats, thou art skild in that trick,
As if thou wert the Champion to Saint Patri [...]ke:
I know not to which worthy to compare thee,
For were they liuing, they could not out-dare thee.
To thee what was great Tamberlaine the Tartar,
Or marcht with thee what was our Britain Arthur?
Great Haniball, that famous Carthag [...]an,
Was not a mate for thee in mine opinion;
And all Seuerus vertues sum'd vp totall,
Remaine in thee, if this blind Age would note all:
Thou shewdst thy selfe a doughty wight at Dublin,
When Irish Rebells madly brought the trouble in:
At Baltimore, Kinsale, at Cor [...], and Yoghall,
Thou with thy power hast made them oft cry fogh [...]
Oft in thy rage, thou hast most madly ran on.
The burning mouth of the combustious Cannon.
For in thy fury, thou hast of beene hotter,
More swifter then an Ambler, or a [...] rotter,
As witnesse can the bounds of fierce T [...]nnel,
And the rough Bick [...]rings with the stour Odennell.
The slaues did seud before thee o'r the Quagmites:
Where many a war [...]ke Horse, & many a Nagmires:
Thou kildst the gammon visag'd poore West [...]halians,
The Al-to-totterd [...] torne Tatterdemalians:
The broaging, roaging, brawling, base Baz [...]ians:
[Page 18]The swift-foot, light-heeld, run-away Sla [...]onians,
Thou letst thē haue no ground to stand or walke on,
But made them flye as Doues doe from a Falcon.
For if thou list in fight to lead a Band on.
Thy slaughtering sword, if thou but layst thy hand on,
Thy fearefull foes would strait the place abandon,
Without or hose, or shooes, shirt, or a band on:
Thou letst them haue no quiet place to stand on.
By tongue or pen it cannot well be verifide,
How many hundred thousands thou hast terrifide,
For thou hast rac'd more Castles, forts & Garrisons,
Beyond Arithmeticke, and past comparisons:
The Prouerbe sayes, Comparisons are odious,
I'l therefore leaue them being incommodious.
In all thy actions thou hast beene impartiall,
Accommodating thy designes as Martiall,
In mortall battels and in bruising battery,
Thy eares would entertain no smooth-tongu'd flat­tery.
That though to all men thy exploits seem'd very od,
Thou brought'st them still to an auspitious Period,
And as thy valour durst out-dare bold Hector,
Like wise P [...]sses thou canst speake a Lector:
Such policies thy wits mint could deuise on,
Which wiser pates could neuer once surmise on:
With many a hundred neuer heard of Stratagem,
Thou hast gor precious honour, is not that a Iem?
What trickes, or slights of war soere the foe meant,
Thou canst desery and frustrate in a moment.

Vpon his Wisedome, and Policie.

OF thy Heroick acts, there might be more said,
For sure they are but slightly toucht aforesaid,
But Gods or Muses, Men, or Fiends infernall,
To blaze thee to thy worth, can ne'r discerne all:
And should I write but halfe that I know of thee,
Some Criticks would perswade thee I did scoffethee.
Thus hauing shewd thy valor, now I'l expound
Part of thy policies, and wisedome profound.
Vnfellowed, and vnfollowed, and vnmatched,
Are the rare slights that in thy pate were hatched:
Of Engines, Mines, of Counterscarphs and Trenches,
And to keep clear the Camp from whoring wēches:
To teach the Soldiers eat frogs, snailes and vermine.
Such Stratagems as these thou couldst determine.
That Cato, Plato, or Aurelius Marcus,
Wise Socrates, or reuerend Aristarchus,
Diogenes, or wise Pithagoras,
Licurgus, Pliny, Anaxagoras,
Archidam [...] of Greece, or Romane Tully,
Could ne'r demonstrate Sapience more fully;
And specially when there was any trouble like,
To vexe, molest, or trouble the Republike:
That wit with valour, valour ioynd with wisdome
From all the world thou hast attained this do [...]
To be wars Abstract, Counsels Catechizer,
That canst direct all, and all scarce the wiser.

A Complaint and a Petition to him.

THus thou of Yore hast followed great [...]elc [...],
And shin'd in Arms like twins of bright La [...]
But now those manly martiall dayes are gone. A
Time of Cheating, swearing, drinking drabbing,
Of burst-gut feeding and inhumane stabbing,
The Spanish Pip, or else the Gallian Morbus,
Bone-bred diseases, mainely doe disturbe vs:
That now more men by ryot are confounded,
Then valiant Souldiers in the wars were wounded.
Mars yeelds to Venus, Gown-men rule the rost [...].
And men of War may fast, or kisse the post now.
The thundring Cannon & the rumbling Drum [...]
The Instruments of War are mute and dumbe [...]
And stout experienc't valiant Commanders,
Are turn'd Saint Nicholas Clarks, & high-way [...]
And some (through want) are turn'd base Pimps [...] Panders,
The watchfull Corporall, and the Lansprezado
Are Marchants turn'd, of smoaky Trinidado.
His shop, (a fadome compasse) now containes him,
Where midst the misty vapours he complaines him,
That he who hath made Forts and Castles caper,
Liues now Camelion-like, by Ayre & Vaper.
Whilst fools & flatterers thriue, it greatly gri [...]es him,
When all Trades fayle, Tobacco last relieues him,
Besides each day some hound-like senting Serg [...]
Scoutes, gapes, pries, preyes, and tires him out for argeant:
And Long la [...]e Dogditch, dambd soule wanting Bro [...]
The Cōmou wealths bane & poore mens vnclo [...]
The Countries Spunges, and the Cities soakers,
The Peaces Pestilence, and Warriours cho [...]kers.
These beate their hogs-heads all, to try conclusions,
By base extorting, working our confusions.
The Souldier's naked, by the broakers bribing,
The Scriuener liues braue by sophisticke scribing,
The slaues grow rich (and 'tis not to be wo [...]dred)
By taking Forty intrest for a hundred.
And nasty beadles with their breath contaminous,
With What are you? & Who goes there? examin [...]
With hums & hawes, Sir reuerence, nods & becking,
With sensles nonsence, checks & Counter checking.
The brownbild Rug-gound bēch do think it fitting,
To exercise their Office by committing.
Where our expence, with Ale their faces va [...]nish,
[Page 19]Whilst we incounterd, pay fines, fees and garnish.
And Tyburne, Wapping, and S. Thomas Watrings,
Poor Soldiers ends, to euery neighboring State rings,
Whilest lowzy Ballad-mongers gape and look out,
To set some riming song, or Roguing Booke out,
Where more then all is 'gainst the dead imputed,
By which meanes men are doubly executed;
That sure the Gallowes hath eat vp more pe-ople,
Then would subdue and win Constantinople.
Orouze thee, rouze thee, then braue man of Action,
[...]ake Fur-gown'd peace burst into Armed faction:
T [...]o [...] hast a pate that canst the State vnsettle:
Be as thou hast beene then, a Man of mettle:
And now base Cowardize doth seeme to rust vs,
Into some worthy busines, quickly thrust vs,
Now shew thy selfe a noble Ahashu [...]rus,
And once more make our brauing foes to fear [...] vs,
Doe thou but lead vs on, and looke but grimly,
And make no doubt, we'l doe the busines trimly.
[...]ngst all the tooles of war, be thou great O Toole,
And neuer let the world esteeme thee no Foole.
O make the wheele of reeling State, and Fate turne,
In spight of sullen melancholly Saturn [...],
To [...]rmes, but from the Armes of lustfull Venus
[...] doe intreat thy warlike care to weane vs.
[...]t not the prick-card power of proud Pri [...]pus,
[...]bonds of painted Curtezans intrap vs,
And rouze vs from our Acts & thoughts libidinous,
That (Traytor-like) in ambush doe lye hid in vs.
Let not thy Tents of worthles Martiall discipline,
Return'd to stinking Tap-houses to tipple in:
[...]t make the freezing pot of num-cold war-boyle,
And bubble to a hurly burly Garboyle:
Doeas thou hast done oft, most noble Spartan,
[...] suken peace into a feauer Quartane;
Dresse like phoebus in his hot Meridian,
[...]inoish all the world with a Quotidian,
[...] know thy worth the world doth all admire on,
Then clad thy selfe in burnisht steele and Yron.
I know that all men knows thou hast bin tri'd well,
Discreetly thou canst talke, fight run and ride well,
I know, the reach of thy politike skull can
Plucke rugged Mars from out the bed of Vnlean,
To make warre roare more loud then any Bull can,
I know thou canst doe more then any Gull can.
I know thou hold'st it Valours ignominy.
To spend thy dayes in peacefull whip her Ginny.
Thy name & voice, more fear'd then G [...]y of Warwick,
Or the rough rumbling, roaring Mig of Bar [...]icke.
We should do somewhat, if we once were rouzed,
And (being Lowsie) we might then be Lowsed.
Encourage Souldiers to demeane them like men,
And measure Veluet with their Pikes braue Pikemē.
Let shouts & clamors, woods, groues, dales, & hils fil
With dreadful noise & cries of follow, follow, kil, kil,
Let Drums cry dub, dub, and let Cannons thunder,
Tantara Trumpets, and let Cowards wonder:
Let Musquets bounce, bounce, let the W [...]lk in rumble,
Let Townes, Turrets, topsituruy tumble,
Doe this (as well I know thou canst doo t wisely)
Exceeding carelesse, fearelesse and precisely.
And then thy Fame shall farther farre be noysed,
Then Titans rayes, or Iustice scales are poysed.
And since thou knowest mans time on earth is short all,
Let mortall Actions make thy name Immortall.

Lenuoy.

IVdge O you Gentiles, what is writ is probable,
And though it seeme a bable, yet 'tis no bable.
Doome amongst ill things, that the best is ment all,
And what's amisse, pray take as accidentall:
For like a puny practizing Astronomy,
And knows no grounds nor rules, so far o'rgon am I,
In diuing to his valours whirlepit bottome,
That like the reuerend Sages of old Gotam,
I now perceiue how much I ouer shot am:
I'l wade no further in't, but in briefe breuity,
Abrupt, absurd, abiect, thus cast, thus leaue it I.
These forc'd Rimes, fully stuft with fruitlesse labor,
Hath Curried my poore braine-pan like a Tabor:
And to recure me from this strange quandary,
Hence Vsquebaugh, and welcome sweet Canary.
FINIS.

TO THE NOBILITY, GENTRY, AND COMMVNALTY, WHO ARE INHABITANTS, OR WEL-WILLERS TO THE WELFARE OF THE CITIE OF SALISBV­RY, AND COVNTY OF WILTSHIRE.

Right Honourable,

WOrshipfull, and louing Country-men, I haue named my Booke and Voyage, The Worst, or the Best, which Ieuer vndertooke & finished, and it lyes in your pleasures, to make it which you please; I am sure for toyle, trauaile, and danger, as yet I neuer bad a worse, or a more difficult passage, which the ensuing Dis­course will truly testifie; yet all those perils past, I shall account as plea­sures, if my infallible Reasons may moue or perswade you to cle [...]re your Riuer, and make it Nauigable from the Sea to your Citie; I haue in part touched what the profit and Commodities of it will be vnto you, and I haue briefly shewed the Inconueniences which you haue through the want of it: I haue also declared, that the maine intent or scope of my comming vnto you with a Wherry, was, to see what lets or Impediments were the binderances vnto so good and beneficiall a worke. All which I haue (according to my simple Suruey, and weake Capacity) set downe, which with the merrinesse of my most Hazardous Sea-progresse, I humbly De­dicate to your Noble, Worshipfull, and worthy Acceptances, euer ac­knowledging my selfe and my Labour in your seruices to be commanded in all dutie,

IOHN TAYLOR.

A DISCOVERY BY SEA, FROM LONDON TO SALISBVRY.

AS our accounts in Almanacks agree,
The yeere cal'd sixteen hundred twenty three:
[...]at Iulyes twenty eight, two houres past dinner,
[...]e with our Wherry, and fiue men within her,
[...]ong the christall Thames did cut and curry,
[...]twixt the Counties, Middlesex and Surry:
[...]hilst thousādsgaz'd, we past the bridge with wōder,
[...]here fooles & wise men goe aboue & vnder.
[...]e thus our Voyage brauely did begin
[...]owne by S. Katherines, where the Priest fell in,
[...] Wapping, where as hang'd drownd Pirats dye;
[...]relle such * Rats, I thinke as would eate Pie.)
[...]nd passing further, I at first obseru'd,
[...]t * Cuckolds-Hauen was but badly seru'd:
[...] there old Time had such confusion wrought,
[...]t of that Ancient place remained nought.
[...]o monumentall memorable Horne,
[...] Tree, or Post, which hath those Trophees borne,
Was left, whereby Posterity may know
Where their forefathers Crests did grow, or show.
Which put into a maze my muzing Muse,
[...]h at the worlds neglect, and times abuse,
[...]at that stout Pillar, to Obliuions pit
[...]ould fall, whereon Plus vltra might be writ,
[...]at such a marke of Reuerend note should lye
[...]rgot, and hid, in blacke obscurity,
[...]pecially when men of euery sort
[...]f countries, Cities, warlike Campes or Court,
[...]nto that Tree are plaintiffs or defendants,
[...]hose * loues, or feares, are fellowes or attendants:
[...]fall estates, this Hauen hath some partakers
[...] lot, some Cuckolds, and some Cuckold-makers.
[...]nd can they all so much forgetfull be
[...]to that Ancient, and Renowned Tree,
[...]hat hath so many ages stood Erected,
[...]nd by such store of Patrons beene protected,
[...]nd now Ingloriously to lye vnseene,
[...]s if it were not, or had neuer beene?
Is Lechery wax'd scarce, is Bawdry scant,
Is there of Whores, or Cuckolds any want?
Are Whore-masters decai'd, are all Bawds dead?
Are Panders, Pimps, and Apple-squires, all fled?
No surely, for the Surgeons can declare
That Venus warres, more hot then Marses are.
Why then, for shame this worthy Port mainetaine,
Let's haue our Tree, and Hornes set vp againe:
That Passengers may shew obedience to it,
In putting off their Hats, and homage doe it.
Let not the Cornucopiaes of our land,
Vnsightly and vnseene neglected stand:
I know it were in vaine for me to call,
That you should rayse some famous Hospitall,
Some Free-schoole, or some Almshouse for the pore,
That might increase good deeds, & ope heau'ns dore.
'Tis no taxation great, or no collection
Which I doe speake of, for This great erection:
For if it were, mens goodnesses, I know,
Would proue exceeding barren, dull, and slow:
A Post and Hornes, will build it firme and stable,
Which charge to beare, there's many a begger able;
The place is Ancient, of Respect most famous,
The want of due regard to it, doth shame vs,
For Cuckolds Hauen, my request is still,
And so I leaue the Reader to his will.
But holla Muse, no longer be offended,
'Tis worthily Repair'd, and brauely mended,
For which great meritorious worke, my pen
Shall giue the glory vnto Greenwitch men.
It was their onely cost, they were the Actors
Without the helpe of other Benefactors,
For which my pen their prayses here adornes,
As they haue beautifi'd the Hau'n with Hornes.
From thence to Debtford we amaine were driuen,
Whereas an Anker vnto me was giuen:
With parting pintes, and quarts for our farewell;
We tooke our leaues, and so to Greenwitch fell.
There shaking hands, adiews, and drinkings store,
We tooke our Ship againe, and left the shore.
Then downe to Erith, 'gainst the tyde we went,
Next London, greatest Maior towne in Kent
[Page 22]Or Christendome, and I approue it can,
That there the Maior was a Waterman,
Who gouernes, rules, and reignes sufficiently,
And was the Image of Authority:
With him we had Cheap Reck'nings & good cheere.
And nothing but his friendship we thought deere.
But thence we rows'd our selues and cast off sleepe,
Before the day-light did begin to peepe.
The tyde by Granesend swiftly did vs bring,
Before the mounting- Larke began to sing,
And e'r we came to Lee, with speedy pace
The Sun 'gan rise with most suspicious face,
Of foule foreboding weather, purple, red,
His Radient Tincture, East, Northeast o'rspred:
And as our Oares thus downe the Riuer pull'd,
Oft with a Fowling-peece the Gulls we gull'd,
For why, * the Master Gunner of our Ship
Let no occasion or aduantage slip,
But charg'd and discharg'd, shot, and shot againe,
And scarce in twenty times shot once in vaine,
Foule was the weather, yet thus much I'l say,
If 't had beene faire, Fowle was our food that day.
Thus downe alongst the spacious Coast of Kent
By Grane and Shoppeies Ilands downe we went,
We past the Nowre-head, and the sandy shore,
Vntill we came to th'East end of the Nowre,
At last by Ramsgates Peere we stiffly Rowed,
The winde and tyde, against vs blow'd and flowed,
Till neere vnto the Hauen where Sandwitch stands,
We were enclosed with most dangerous sands.
There were we sowsd & slabberd, wash'd & dash'd,
And grauell'd, that it made vs * halfe abash'd:
We look'd and pry'd, and stared round about,
From our apparant perils to get out.
For with a Staffe, as we the depth did sound,
Foure miles from land, we almost were on ground.
At last (vnlook'd for) on our Larboord side
A thing turmoyling in the Sea we spide,
Like to a Meareman; wading as he did
All in the Sea his neather parts were hid,
Whose Brawney limbs, and rough neglected Beard,
And grim aspect, made halfe of vs afeard,
And as he vnto vs his course did make,
I courage tooke, and thus to him I spake.
Man, monster, fiend or fish, what-e'r thou be,
That trauelst here in Neptunes Monarchy,
I charge thee by his dreadfull Three-tin'd Mace,
Thou hurt not me or mine, in any case,
And if thou bre'st produc'd of Mortall kinds,
Shew vs some course, how we the way may finde
To deeper water, from these sands so shallow,
In which thou see [...] our Ship thus wash and wallow.
With that (he shrugging vp his shoulders strong)
Spake (like a Christian) in the Kentish tongue,
Quoth he, Kinde sir, I am a Fisherman,
Who many yeeres my liuing thus haue wan
By wading in these sandy troublous waters
For Shrimps, Wslks, Cockles, and such vsefull ma [...],
And I will lead you, (with a course I'l keepe)
From out these dangerous shallowes to the deepe
Then (by the nose) along he led our Boate,
Till (past the flats) our Barke did brauely floa [...]e.
Our Sea-horse, that had drawne vs thus at large,
I gaue two groats [...]nto, and did discharge.
Then in an houre and halfe, or little more,
We throgh the Downes at Deale went safe on sh [...]
There did our Hostesse dresse the Fowle we kill'd,
With which our hungry stomacks well we fill'd,
The morrow being Wednesday (breake of day)
We towards Douer tooke our weary way:
The churlish windes awak'd the Seas high fury,
Which made vs glad to land there, I assure yee.
Blinde Fortune did so happily contriue,
That we (as sound as bells) did safe ariue
At Douer, where a man did ready stand,
To giue me Entertainment by the hand,
A man of mettle, marke and note, long since
He graced was to lodge a gracious Prince,
And now his speeches sum, and scope and pith
Is Iack, and Tom, each one his Cousin Smith,
That if with pleasant talke you please to warme it,
He is an Host much better then an Army,
A goodly man, well sed, and corpulent,
Fill'd like a bag-pudding with good content,
A right good fellow, free of cap and legge,
Of complement, as full as any Egge:
To speake of Him, I know it is of Folly,
He is a mortall foe to Melancholy,
Mirth is his life and trade, and I thinke very,
That he was got when all the world was merry:
Health vpon health, he doubled and redoubled,
Till his, and mine, and all our braines were troub [...]
Vnto our absent Bitters there we dranke;
Whom we are bound to loue, they not to thanke.
By vs mine Host could not great profit reape,
Our meat and lodging was so good and cheape,
That to his praise thus much I'l truly tell,
He vs'd vs kindly euery way and well.
And though my lines before are merry writ,
Where-e'r I meet him, I'l acknowledge it.
To see the Castle there I did desire,
And vp the Hill I softly did aspire,
Whereas it stands, impregnable in strength,
Large in Circumference, height, bredth, and leng [...]
Built on a fertile plat of ground, that they
Haue yeerely growing twenty loads of Hay,
Great Ordnance store, pasture for Kine and Ho [...]
Rampires and Walls, t'withstand inuasiue forces.
[Page 23] [...]hat it be well with truth and courage man'd,
[...]ition, victuall'd, then it can withstand
[...]he powers of twenty Tamberlaines (the Great)
[...] the end with shame they would Retreat.
[...] is gouern'd by a graue and prudent * Lord,
Whole Iustice doth to each their right afford,
Whole worth (within the Castle, and without)
[...]he fiue Ports, and the country all about,
[...]he people with much loue, doe still recite,
[...] he makes the wrongers render Right.
[...]he kindnesse I receiued there was such,
[...]ut my remembrance cannot be too much,
[...]wa Gun thrice eight foot length of Brasse,
[...]nd in a Wheele I saw a comely Asse
[...] like a Dog) that's turning of a Spit,
[...]nd draw as it were from the infernall pit,
[...]hose deepe Abisse is perpendicular)
[...]he hundred fathome (or well neere as farre)
[...]christaline, so cleere, and coole a water,
[...]ut will in Summer make a mans teeth chatter:
[...]d when to see it vp, I there had stood,
[...]ranke thereof, and found it sweet and good.
[...] farewell Castle, Douer, Douer Peere,
[...]rewell, Oast Bradshaw, thanks for my good cheer.
[...] bonny Barke to Sea was bound againe;
[...] Thursday morne, we lanch'd into the Maine,
[...] Folston: [...] and by Sangates ancient Castle,
[...]rainst the rugged waues, we tugge and wrastle
[...] Hyde, by Ru [...]ey, and by Rumney Marsh,
[...], Tyde against vs, and the winde blew harsh,
[...]wixt Eolus and Neptune was such strife,
[...]at I ne'r felt worse weather in my life:
[...]t and retost, retost and tost againe;
[...] rumbling, tumbling, on the rowling Maine,
[...]boystrous breaking Billowes curled locks
[...]petuo [...]sly did beate against the Rockes,
[...] winde much like a Horse whose wind is broke,
[...] thicke and short, that we were like to choake:
[...]it cutragiously the billowes shaues,
[...] Gusts (like dust) blown from the bryny waues,
[...] thus the winds and seas robustious gods
[...] by the eares starke mad at furious ods.
[...]ender Ship, turmoyld 'twixt shores and Seas,
[...]ft or low, as stormes and slawes did please:
[...]etimes vpon a foaming Mountaines top,
[...]hose height did seeme the heau'ns to vnderprop,
[...]en straight to such profundity she fell,
[...] she diu'd into the deepest Hell,
[...] Clowds like ripe Apostumes burst & showr'd,
[...]eir mastery watery substance headlong powr'd;
[...] though all things were mutable and fickle,
[...]ey all agreed to so [...]se vs in a pickle,
[...] waters fresh and salt, from Seas and Skye,
[...]ich with our sweat ioynd in triplicity,
That looking each on other, there we saw,
We neither were halfe stewd, nor yet halfe raw,
But neither hot or cold, good flesh or fishes
For Caniballs, we ha [...] beene ex'lent dishes.
Bright Phoe [...]us hid his golden head with feare,
Not daring to behold the dangers there,
Whilst in that straight or Exigent we stand,
We see and wish to land, yet durst not land,
Like rowling Hills the Billowes beate and roate
Against the melancholly Beachie shore,
That if we landed, neither strength or wit
Could saue our Boate from being sunke or split,
To keepe the Sea, sterne puffing Eols breath
Did threaten still to blow vs all to death,
The waues amaine (vnbid) oft boorded vs,
Whilst we almost three houres beleaguerd thus,
On euery side with danger and distresse,
Resolu'd to run on shore at Dengie Nesse.
There stand some thirteene Cottages together,
To shelter Fishermen from winde and weather,
And there some people were as I suppos'd,
Although the dores and windowes all were clos'd [...]
I neere the land, into the Sea soone leapt
To see what people those same houses kept,
I knock'd and cal'd, at each, from house to house,
But found no forme of mankinde, Man or * Mouse.
This newes all sad, and comfortlesse and cold,
Vnto my company I straightwayes told,
Assuring them the best way I did thinke,
Was to hale vp the Boate, although she sinke.
Resolued thus, we all together please
To put her head to shore, her sterne to Seas,
They leaping ouerbo [...]rd amidst the Billowes,
We pluck'd her vp (vnsunke) like stout tall fellows.
Thus being wet, from top to toe we strip'd,
(Except our shirts) and vp and downe weskip'd,
Till winde and Sunne our wants did well supply,
And made our outsides, and our insides dry.
Two miles frō thence, a ragged * town there stood,
To which I went to buy some drinke and food:
Where kindely ouer-reckon'd, well misus'd
Was, and with much courtesie abus'd.
Mine Oastesse did account it for no trouble,
For single fare to make my payment double:
Yet did her mind and mine agree together,
That (I once gone) would neuer more come thither:
The Cabbins where our Boat lay safe and well.
Belong'd to men which in this towne did dwell:
And one of them (I thanke him) lent vs then
The Key to ope his hospitable Den,
A brazen Kettle, and a pewter dish,
To serue our needs, and dresse our flesh and fish:
Then from the Butchers we bought Lamb & sheep,
Beere from the Alehouse, and a Broome to sweepe
[Page 24]Our Cottage, that for want of vse was musty,
And most extremely rusty-fusty-dusty.
There, two dayes space, we Roast, & boile, & broile,
And toyle, and moyle, and keepe a noble coyle,
For onely we kept open house alone,
And he that wanted Beefe, might haue a Stone.
Our Grandam Earth (with beds) did al befriend vs,
And bountifully all our lengths did lend vs,
That laughing, or else lying * downe did make
Our backes and sides sore, and our ribs to ake.
On Saturday the windes did seeme to cease,
And brawling Seas began to hold their peace,
When we (like Tenants) beggerly and poore,
Decreed to leaue the Key beneath the doore,
But that our Land-lord did that shift preuent,
Who came in pudding time, and tooke his Rent,
And as the Sunne, was from the Ocean peeping,
We lanch'd to Sea againe, and left house-keeping.
When presently we saw the drisling skies
'Can powt and lowre, and Winds and Seas 'ganrise,
Who each on other plaid their parts so wilde,
As if they meant not to be reconcilde,
The whilst we leape vpon those liquid hills,
Where Porposes did shew their sins and Gills,
Whilst we like various Fortunes Tennis ball,
At euery stroake, were in the Hazzard all.
And thus by Rye, and * Winchelsey we past
By Fairlegh, and those Rockie cliffs at last.
Some two miles short of Hastings, we percein'd
The Lee shore dangerous, and the Billowes hear'd,
Which made vs land (to scape the Seas distresse)
Within a harbour, almost harbourlesse,
(We giue God thanks) amongst the Rocks we hit,
Yet were we neither wash'd or sunke, or split.
Within a Cottage nigh, there dwels a Weauer
Who entertaind vs, as the like was neuer,
No meat, no drinke, no lodging (but the floore)
No Stoole to sit, no Locke vnto the doore,
No straw to make vs litter in the night,
Nor any Candlesticke to hold the light,
To which the Owner bid vs welcome still,
Good entertainement, though our cheare was ill.
The morrow when the Sun with flushed face
In his diurnall course began to trace,
The wind exceeding stiffe and strong and tough,
The Seas outragious, and extremely rough,
Our Boate laid safe vpon the Boachy sand,
Whilst we to Hastings went or walk'd by land.
Much (to that Towne) my thankfulnesse is bound,
Such vndeserued kindnesse there I found.
Three nights we lay there, and three daies we spent,
Most freely welcom'd, with much merriment.
Kinde M r * Maior his loue aboue the rest:
Me and my crue, he did both feed and feast,
He sent vs God, and came himselfe to vs;
My thankes are these, because his loue was thus,
Mine Host and Hostesse Clayton thus I thanke
And all good fellowes there, I found so franke,
That what they had, or what could there be got,
They neither thought too heauy or too hot.
The windes and Seas continued still their course,
Inueterate seem'd their rage, vntam'd their force,
Yet were we loth to linger and delay:
But once againe to venture and away.
Thus desperately resolu'd, 'twixt hope and doubt.
Halfe sunke with lanching, madly we went out,
At twelue a clocke at noone, and by Sun-set
To Miching, or New Hauen we did get.
There almost sunke (to saue our Boat at last)
Our selues into the shallow Seas we cast:
And pluck'd her into safety to remaine
Till Friday that we put to Sea againe.
Then 'mongst our old acquaintance (storms & fla [...])
At euery stroake neere deaths deuouring iawes:
The weary day we past through many feares,
And land at last quite sunke o'r head and eares.
All dropping dry, like fiue poore Rats half dro [...].
From succour farre, we halde the Boat on ground,
Cast out our water, whilst we brauely drop'd,
And vp and downe to drie our selues we hop'd.
Thus we our weary Pilgrimage did weare,
Expecting for the weather calme and cleare:
But stormes, flawes, windes, seas, tooke no minutes r [...],
Continuall fiercely blowing, West Southwest.
A Town call'd Gorting, stood neere two miles w [...],
To which we went, and had our wants supplide:
There we relieu'd our felues (with good compassiō)
With meat and lodging of the homely fashion.
To bed we went in hope of rest and ease,
But all beleaguer'd with an Host of Fleas:
Who in their fury nip'd and skip'd so hotly,
That all our skins were almost turn'd to motly.
The bloudy sight endur'd at least sixe houres,
When we (opprest with their encreasing pow'rs)
Were glad to yeeld the honour of the day
Vnto our foes, and rise and runne away:
The night before, * a Constable there came,
Who ask'd my Trade, my dwelling, and my name:
My businesse, and a troope of questions more,
And wherefore we did land vpon that shore?
To whom I fram'd my answers true, and fit,
(According to his plenteous want of wit)
But were my words all true, or if I li'd,
With neither I could get him satisfi'd.
[Page 25] [...] ask'd if we were Pyrats? We said no,
[...] if we had, we would haue told him so.)
[...] said that Lords sometimes would enterprise
[...]scape, and leaue the Kingdome, in disguise:
[...] I assur'd him on my honest word,
[...]at I was no disguised Knight or Lord.
[...] told me then that I must goe sixe miles
[...] lustice there, Sir Iohn, or else Sir Giles:
[...] [...]old him I was loth to goe so farre:
[...] he told me, he would my iourny barre.
[...]s what with Fleas, and with the seuerall prates
[...]th' Officer, and his Ass-sociats,
[...]e a rose to goe, but Fortune bade vs stay:
[...]e Constable had stolne our Oares away,
[...]d bome them thence a q [...]arter of a mile,
[...] through a Lane, beyond a gate and stile,
[...] hid them there, to hinder my depart,
[...] which I wish'd him hang'd with all my heart.
[...]lowman (for vs) found our Oares againe,
[...]ithin'a field well fill'd with Barly Graine.
[...]en madly, gladly out to Sea we thrust,
[...]inst windes & stormes & many a churlish Gust:
[...] Kingston Chappell, and by Rushington,
[...] little Hampton and by Middleton,
[...] B [...]g [...] fearefull Rockes, which hidden lie
[...] miles into the Sea, some wet, some dry:
[...]ere we suppos'd our danger most of all,
[...]we [...] [...] remorcelesse Rockes should fall:
[...]t by th'Almighties mercy and his might,
[...] [...]e Row'd to Selsey, where we stay'd all night.
[...]ere, our necessity could haue no Law,
[...] want of beds, we made good vse of Straw,
[...] S [...], that old continuall Traueller
[...]om T [...] lap, 'gan mount his flaming Car.
[...] weather kept it's course, and blow'd & rag'd,
[...]ithout appearance it would e'r be swag'd,
[...]hilst we did passe those hills, & dales, & Downs,
[...]at had denour'd great ships, and swallow'd Towns.
[...]us after six or fiue houres toyle at least,
[...] past along by Wittering, West, and East,
[...]on the Lee shore still the winde full South,
[...]e came neere Chichesters faire Hauens mouth.
[...]d being then halfe sunk, and all through wet,
[...]ore fear'd then hurt, we did the Hauen get.
[...]us in that harbour we our course did frame
[...] Portsmouth, where on Munday morne we came.
[...]en to the Royall Fleet we Row'd aboord,
Where much good welcome they did vs affoord.
[...]othe Lord Generall, first my thankes shall be,
[...] is bounty did appeare in gold to me,
[...]nd euery one aboord the Prince I found,
[...] stead of want, to make their loues abound,
[...]aptine Penrudduck there amongst the rest,
[...] is loue and bounty was to vs exprest,
Which to require, my thankfulnesse I'l show,
[...]nd that I'l euer pay, and euer owe.
On Tuesday morning we with maine and might,
From Portsmouth crost vnto the [...]e of Wight:
By Cowes ftout Castle, we to [...] armouth hasted.
And still the windes and Seas fierce fury lasted.
On Wedn' [...]day we to Hursts strong Castle crost,
Most dangerously sowsd, turmoyl'd and tost:
Good harbour there we found, and nothing deere,
I thanke kinde * M. Figge, the Porter there,
He shew'd vs there a Castle of defence
Most vsefull, of a round circumference:
Of such command, that none can passe those Seas
Vnsunke, or spoyl'd, except the Castle please.
On Thursday, we, our Boat row'd, pull'd and hal'd
Vnto a place, which is K [...]y Hauen call'd.
The winde still blowing, and the Sea so high,
As if the lofty waues would kisse the skie,
That many times I wish'd with all my hart,
My selfe, my Boat, and Crue, all in a Cart;
Or any where to keepe vs safe and dry,
The weather raged so out ragiously.
For sure I thinke the memory of man
(Since windes a [...]d Seas to blow or flow began)
Cannot remember so stormy weather
In such continuance, held so long together,
For ten long weekes e'r that, tis manifest,
The wind had blown at South or west Southwest,
And rais'd the Seas: to shew each others power,
That all this space (ca [...]me weather) not one hower,
That whether we did goe by Sunne or Moone,
At anytime, at midnight, or at noone:
If we did launce, or if to land we set,
We still were sure to be halfe sunke, and wet.
Thus toyling of our weary time away.
That Thursday was our last long look'd for day:
For hauing past, with perill, and much paine,
And plow'd, & furrow'd, o'r the daugerous maine,
O'r depths, and flats, and many a ragged Rocke,
We came to Christ-Church Hau'n at fiue a clocke.
Thus, God, in mercy, his iust iudgement sparing,
(Gainst our presumption, ouer-bold, and daring)
Who made vs see his wonders in the deepe,
And that his power alone aloft did keepe
Our weather-beaten Bonte aboue the waues,
Each moment gaping to be all our Graues.
We sinking seap'd: then not to vs, to Him
Be all the Glory, for he causd vs s [...]im.
And for his mercy was so much extended
On me (whose temptings had so farre offended)
Let me be made the scorne and scoffe of men,
If euer I attempt the like agen.
My loue, my duty, and my thankfulnesse,
To Sir George Hastings I must here expresse:
His deedes to me, I must requite in words,
No other payment, poore mens state affords.
[Page 26]With fruitlesse words, I pay him for his cost,
With thanks to M r. Templeman mine host.
So leauing Christ-Church, and the Hauen there,
With such good friends as made vs welcome [...]
Some serious matter now I must compile,
And thus from verse to prose I change my stile.

GOD, who of his infinite wisdome made Man, of his vnmeasured mercy redee­med him, of his boundlesse bounty, immense power, and eternall eye of watchfull proui­dence relieues, guards, and conserues him; It is necessary, that euery man seriously consider and ponder these things, and in token of obe­dience and thankfulnesse say with Dauid: What shall I render? and the man hauing thus searched considerately the Causer of his be­ing, then let him againe meditate for * what cause hee hath a being: indeed it may be ob­iected, that almost euery thing hath a being; as stones haue being, trees, hearbs, and plants, haue being and life: Beasts, fowles, and fishes, haue being, life, and sence: but to man is gi­uen a Being, life, sence, and reason, and after a mortal, an immortal euer-being. This cōside­ration will make a man know that hee hath little part of himselfe, which hee may iustly call his owne: his body is Gods, he made it; his soule is his, who bought it; his goods are but lent him, by him that will one day call him to a reckoning, for the well or ill dispo­sing of them: so that man hauing nothing but what he hath receiued, and receiued nothing but what is to be imployed in the seruice of God, and consequently his Prince and Coun­trey, it is plainely to be perceiued, that euery man hath * the least share or portion of him­selfe to boast of.

I haue written this Preamble, not onely to enforme such as know not these things alrea­dy; but also to such whose knowledge is, as it were, falne into a dead sleepe; who doe liue, as though there were no other being then here, and that their life and being was orday­ned onely of themselues, neither God, Prince, or Countrey, hauing no share or portion of them, or of what they call theirs. But oh you Inhabitants of Salisbury, I hope there are [...] such crawling Cankerwormes, or Comm [...] wealth Caterpillers amongst you. Nay, I [...] assured of the contrary, that there are ma [...] who (with religious piety, open hands, [...] relenting hearts) doe acknowledge that yo [...] goods are but lent in trust vnto you, and [...] patiently beare the ouer-burthensome [...] ­uing of many hundreds of poore wret [...] which (were it not for your charity) wo [...] perish in your streets.

This being entred into my consideration that your City is so * much ouercharged [...] poore, as hauing in three Parishes neere [...] besides decayed men a great many, and [...] those few which are of the wealthier sort, [...] continually onerpressed with sustaining [...] wants of the needy, the City being as it [...] at the last gaspe, the poore being like Ph [...]ohs leane Kine, euen ready to eat vp the [...] ones: I haue made bold to write this Tr [...]tise ensuing, both to entreat a constant per [...]uerance in those who haue begun to doe go [...] workes, and an encouragement or anima [...] of all others, who as yet seeme slow in the [...] good proceedings. And if any thing he [...] written by me, be either impertinent, ex [...]uagant, rude, harsh, or ouer-bold, I humb [...] entreat you to impute it rather to my want [...] iudgement, learning, and capacity, then to [...]ny presumption, or want of loue and duty [...] the City & cause, which is hereafter handled.

It is sufficiently knowne, that my intent and purpose at this time, was not to make any pro­fit to my selfe' vpon any aduenture (as it is dee­med by many) by my passage from London [...] Salisbury with a Wherry, but I was entread by a * Waterman which was born in Salisbury [Page 27] that I would beare him company for the dis­couery of the sands, flats, depths, shoales, Mils, and Weares, which are impediments and' lets, whereby the Riuer is not Nauigable from Christ-Church, or the Sea to Salisbury. Which after many dangerous gusts, and tempestuous stormes at Sea, (which I haue recited in verse before) it pleased God that at the last we en­tred, the Riuer, which in my opinion is as good [...] Riuer, and with some charge may bee made as passable as the Riuer of Thames is vpwards from Brentford to VVindsor, or beyond it; the shallow places in it are not many, the Mills [...]need not be remoued, and as for the Weares, [...]no doubt but they may with conscience bee compounded for. By which meanes of Na­ [...]uigation, the whole City and Country would be relieued, loyterers turned into labourers, penury into plenty, to the glory of God, the dignity and reputation of your City, and the perpetuall worthy memory of all benefactors and well-willers vnto so noble a worke.

If you will but examine your owne know­ledges, you shall find that in the whole domi­nion of England, there is not any one Town or City which hath a Nauigable Riuer at it, that is poore, nor scarce any that are rich, which want a Riuer with the benefits of Boats: The Towne of Kingston vpon Hull in Yorkshire, the Riuer there was cut out of Humber, by mens labours 20. miles vp into the Countrey, and what the wealth and estate of that Towne is, (by the onely benefit of that Riuer) it is not vnknowne to thousands: but you men of Sarum may see what a commodity Nauigati­on is, neerer hand; there is your neighbour Sauthampton on the one side, and your deere friend Poole on the other, are a paire of han­some looking-Glasses for you, where you may see your want in their abundance, and your negligence in their industry.

God hath placed, your being in a fertile soyle, in a fruitfull valley, enuironed round with Cor [...]le, and as it were continually be­ [...]eged with plenty: whilst you within (ha­ [...]ing so many poore amongst you) are rather lookers vpon happinesse then enioyers: more­ouer (by Gods appointment) Nature hath sa­ued you the labour of cutting a Riuer, for I thinke you haue one there as old as your City ready made to your hands: if you will be but industrious to amend those impediments in it, I dare vndertake to be one of the 3. or 4. men which shall bring or carry 16. or 20. Tuns of goods betwixt the Sea and your City. Now, with extreme toyle of men, Horses and Carts, your wood is brought to you 18. or 20. miles, whereby the poore which can­not reach the high prices of your fewell, are enforced to steale or starue in the Winter, so that all your neere adioyning woods are con­tinually spoyled by them: which faults by the benefit of the Riuer would be reformed: for the new Forrest standeth so neere to the wa­ter, that it is but cut the wood and put it into a Boate, which shall bring as much to your City as twenty Carts, and fourescore Horses: besides, by this Riuer you might draw to you a trade of Sea-coale, which would enrich you, and helpe the plaine and inland Townes and Villages where no wood growes. And for the Exportation of your Corne from Port to Port, within our owne Countrey, as it is well knowne what abundance of your Barley is continually made into Mault amongst you: which if you had carriage for it, might bee brewed into Beere, wherewith you might serue diuers places with your Beere, which is now serued with your Mault: besides carriages of Brickes, Tyles, Stones, Charcoales, and o­ther necessaries, which is now carried at deare rates by Horse or Carts, which now you send in Carts, or on Horses backes, to Southampton, to Bristow, and to many other places: so that the dearenesse of the Carriages eats vp all your commodities and profit; which discom­modity may be auoyded, if your Riuer bee cleansed: and what man can tell what good in time may redound to your City from the Sea, by forraigne goods, which may bee brought into Christ-Church Hauen by Ship­ping? nor can it be truly imagined, what new and vsefull profitable businesses may arise in time by this meanes.

Our Forefathers and Ancestors did in their liues time in former ages doe many worthy [Page 28] and memorable workes, but for all their in­dustry and cost, they did not (or could not) doe all; but as there was much done to our hands, so there was much left for vs to doe, and very sitting it was, that it should bee so: for it is against common sence and reason, our Fathers should toyle in good workes like drudges, and wee spend our times loytring like Drones: no, what they did, was for our imitation. And withall, that wee should bee leaders of our posterities by our examples, in­to laudable endeauours, as our progenitors haue before shewed vs: wee are their sonnes and off-spring, wee haue their shapes and fi­gures, we beare their names, we possesse their goods, we inherit their lands; wee haue ma­terials of Stones, Timber, Iron, and such ne­cessaries which they had, (if not in greater a­bundance) and hauing all these, let vs with­all haue their willing and liberall hearts, and there is no question to be made, but that our Riuer of Au [...]n wil quickly be clensed, to the honest enriching of the rich, and the charita­ble relieuing of the poore.

I am assured that there are many good men in the City and County of Wiltshire, and o­thers of worth and good respect in this King­dome, who would willingly and bountifully assist this good worke: but ( like Gossips neere a Stile) they stand straining courtesie who shall goe first: or the Mice in the Fable, not one will aduenture to hang the Bell about the Cats necke: So that if one good man would begin, it would bee (like a health dranke to some beloued Prince at a great feast) pledged most hear­tily, and by Gods grace effected most hap­pily.

You haue already begun a charitable work amongst you, I meane, your common Towne Brew house, the profit of which you entend shall be wholly imployed for the supply of the poore and Impotents, which liue in your City: from which sort of people (being such a multitude) the Brewers there haue found their best custome: for no doubt but the mea­nest begger amongst you, is (in some sort) more valiant then the richest man: because the one dares to spend all he hath at the Alchouse, so dares not the other; for the poore man drinks stifly to driue care away, and hath no­thing to lose, and the rich man drinks mode­rately, because he must beare a braine to look to what hee hath. And of all Trades in the world, a Brewer is the Load-stone, which drawes the customes of all functions vnto [...] It is the mark or vpshot of euery mans ayme, and the bottomlesse whirlepoole that swal­lowes vp the profits of rich and poore. The Brewers Art (like a wilde Kestrell or vnmand Hawke) flies at all games; or like a But le [...] boxe at Christmasse, it is sure to winne, who­soeuer loses: In a word, it rules and raignes (in some sort) as Augustus Casar did, for [...] taxeth the whole earth. Your Innes and A [...] ­houses are Brookes and Riuers, and their Clyents are small Rills and Springs, who all (very dutifully) doe pay their tributes to the boundlesse Ocean of the Brewhouse. For all the world knowes, that if men and women did drinke no more then sufficed Nature, [...], if it were but a little extraordinary now and then vpon occasion, or by chance, as you may terme it; if drinking were vsed in any reason, or any reason vsed in drinking, I pray ye what would become of the Brewer then? Surely we doe liue in an age, wherein * the sue [...] deadly sins are euery mans Trade and liuing. Pride is the maintainer of thousands, which would else perish; as Mercers, Taylors, Em­broydrers, Silk-mē, Cutters, Drawers, Sem [...] ­sters, Laundresies, of which functions there are millions which would starue but for M [...] ­dam Pride with her changeable fashions. L [...] ­chery, what a cōtinual crop of profit it yeel [...] appeares by the gallant thriuing, and gawdy outsides of many he and she, priuate and pa [...] ­like sinner [...], both in Citi [...] and Suburbs. Co­ [...]erousnesse is Embroydered with Extortio [...], and warmly lined and furred with oppression. [Page 26] And though it be a diuell, yet is it most I­dolatrously adored, honoured, & worshipped by those simple Sheepeheaded fooles, whom It hath vndone and beggered. I could speake of other vices, how profitable they are to a Common-wealth; but my inuention is thir­sty, and must haue one carouse more at the Brewhouse, who (as I take it) hath a greater share then any, in the gaines which spring from the worlds abuses: for Pride is main­tained by the humble, yet one kinde of Pride doth liue and profit by another: Letchery is supported by the cursed swarme of Bawdes, Panders Pimps, Apple-squires, Whores, and Knaues; and so euery sinne liues and thriues by the members, Agents, Ministers, and Cly­ents, which doe belong vnto them: but Drun­kennesse playes at all; all trades, all quali­ties, all functions and callings can bee drunke or tempore: note at any great Feast, or but at eurey ordinary dinner or supper almost, when men are well satisfied with sufficiency, that then the mystery of quaffing begins, with healths to many an vnworthy person (who perhaps) would not giue the price of the Reckoning to saue all them from hanging (which make themselues sicke with drinking such vnthankfull healths,) I my selfe haue of­ [...]entimes dined or supped at a great mans Boord, and when I haue risen, the seruants of the house haue enforc'd me into the Seller or Battery, where (in the way of kindnesse) they will make a mans belly like a Sowse-rub, and inforce mee to drinke, as if they had a com­mission vnder the diuels great seale, to mur­der men with drinking, with such a deale of complementall oratory, As, off with your Lap, Wind vp your bottome, Vp with your taplash, [...]nd many more eloquent phrases, which Tul­ [...] or Demosthen [...]s neuer heard of; that in con­clusion I am perswaded three dayes fasting would haue bin more healthfull to mee, then two houres feeding and swilling in that man­ [...]er.

If any man hang, drowne, stabbe, or by a­ [...]y violent meanes make away his life, the goods & lands of any such person, are forfeit to the vse of the King: and I see no reason but those which kill themselues with drinking, should be in the same estate, and be buried in the high wayes, with a stake droue thorow them: And if I had but a grant of this suite, I would not doubt but that in seuen yeeres (if my charity would but agree with my wealth) I might erect Almes-houses, Free-schooles, mend highwayes, and make Bridges; for I dare sweare, that a number (almost number­lesse) haue confessed vpon their death-beds, that at such and such a time, in such and such a place, they dranke so much which made them surfeite, of which surfeite they langui­shed and dyed. * The maine benefit of these superfluous and man-slaughtering expences comes to the Brewer, so that if a Brewer be in any office, I hold him to be a very ingrate­full man, if he punish a Drunkard: for euery stiffe pot-valiant drunkard is a Post, beame, or Piller which holds vp the Brew-house: for as the barke is to the tree, so is a good drinker to a Brewer.

But you men of Salisbury, wisely percei­uing how much Euil to your City, hath come by the abuse of Good drinke, you would now worke by contraries, to draw Good for your poore, out of these forepassed and present E­uils. To draw euill out of good, is diuelish, but to work or extract goodnesse out of what is euill, is godly, and worthy to be pursued. The abuse of good drinke and excessiue drin­king, hath made many beggers amongst you, to the inriching of a few Brewers, and now you would turne the world off from the Bar­rels, as I would off from the Coach-wheeles, that the benefit of your new built Towne Brew-house might relieue many of those poore amongst you, who haue formerly bin impouerished by the inriching of your Towne-Brewers. It is no doubt but they will oppose this good worke of yours, as the i­mage-makers in Ephesus did Paul, when hee preached against their idolatrous worship­ping Diana; but be not you discouraged: for Nehemiah (in time) did build the Temple, al­though Sanballat & * many others did oppose [Page 30] him: for as your intents are Pious, so no doubt but God will make your euents pro­sperous.

Now to turne from Beere and Ale to faire water, (your Riuer I mean) which if it be clen­sed, then with the profit of your Towne­Brewhouse, and the commodity of the Riuer, I thinke there will be scarce a begger or a loi­terer to be found amongst you. I haue writ­ten enough before concerning the benefit of it, and to encourage such as seeme flow to­wards so good a worke, which had it beene in the Low-Countries, the Industrious Dutch would not so long haue neglected so benefici­all a blessing, witnesse their abundance of Na­uigable Riuers, and ditches, which with the only labour of men they haue cut, and in most places, where neuer God or Nature made a­ny Riuer; and lately there is a Riuer made nauigable to St. Teades in Huntington-shire, wherein stood seuen Mills, as impediments in the way. And now the City of Canterbury are clearing their Riuer, that Boats may passe to and fro betwixt them and Sandwitch Hauen: the like is also in hand at Leedes in Yorkeshire: Now, if neither former or present examples can moue you, if your owne wants cannot in­force you, if assured profit cannot perswade you, but that you will still be neglectiue and stupid, then am I sorry that I haue written so much, to so little purpose, but my hopes are otherwayes: if all blinde, lame, and couetous excuses be laid aside, then those who are wil­ling, will be more willing, and those who are slacke or backward, will in some reasonable manner draw forward: And there is the mouth of an vncharitable obiection which I must needs stop, which is an old one, and onely spoken by old men; for (say they) we are a­ged and stricken in yeeres, and if wee should lay out our moneies, or be at charges for the Riuer, by the course of Nature wee shall not liue to enioy any profit to requite our costs: this excuse is worse then Heathenish, and therefore it ill becomes a Christian, for as I wrote before, man was not created, or had either the goods of minde, body, or Fortune, bestowed on him by his Maker, but that hee should haue the least part of them himselfe; his God, Prince and Countrey, claiming (as their due) almost all which euery man hath. The oldest man will purchase land, which is subiect to barrennesse, and many inconueni­ences; he will buy and build houses, which are in danger of fire, and diuers other casual­ties; he will aduenture vpon Wares or goods at high prices, which to his losse may fall to low rates; hee will bargaine for cattell and Sheepe, who are incident to many diseases, as the Rot; the Murraine, and diuers the like, and all this will he doe, in hope to raise his state, and leaue his heires rich: at his death perhaps (when he can keepe his goods no lon­ger, when in spight of his heart he must leaue all) hee will giue a few Gownes, and a little money to Pious vses, a Grosse or two of pe [...] ­ny loaues, and there's an end of him, so that there remaines no more memory of him.

But this good worke of your Riuer, is not subiect to barrennesse or sterility, but contra­rily it will be a continuall haruest of plenty, it is not in danger of being consumed, or wa­sted, but it is assured of a perpetuall encrease. The names and memories of contributors to­wards it, shall be conserued in venerable and laudable remembrance, to the eternizing of their fames, the honour of their posterities, and the good example of succeeding times to imitate. Therefore you men of Salisbury, I [...] treat you in this case to bee good to your selues. Or else you may say hereafter, If [...] had beene Industrious, wee had beene happy: If [...] had not beene couetous, we had beene rich.

Now, to returne to my trauels and enter­tainements: As I passed vp the Riuer, at the least 2000. Swans, like so many Pilots, swam in the deepest places before me, and shewed me the way. When I came to the Towne of Ringwood (14. miles short of Salisbury) I there met with his Maiesties Trumpeters, and there my fellowes Mr. Thomas Vnder hill, and Mr. Richard Stocke, Mr. Thomas Ramsey, M r. R [...] Lloyd, with others, which I name not, did walke on the banke, and gaue mee two excel­lent flowrishes with their Trumpets, for the which I thanke them in print, and by word of [Page 31] mouth. At last I came to a Towne called For­thing, Bridge, where (not many dayes before) a grieuous mischance happened; For two men being swimming or washing in the Ri­uer, a Butcher passing ouer the bridge (with a Mastiffe Dogge with him) did cast a stone into the water, and say, A Ducke; at which, the Dogge leapd into the Riuer, and seazed vp­on one of the men and kild him: and the Butcher leaping in after, thinking to saue the man, was also slaine by his owne Dogge, the third man also hardly escaping, but was like­wise bitten by him.

From thence I passed further, to a place called Hale, where we were welcomed by the Right Worshipfull, Sir Thomas Penrudduck Knight, whom we carried there in our Boat, and who, I am assured, will bee a forward and a liberall Benefactor towards cleering of the Riuer.

So passing on our course by the Villages of B [...]rg [...]te, Breamer, Chartford, Downton & Stone­ly, we came to Langfoord, where we were well entertained by the Right Honourable, the Lord Edward Gorge (Lord Baron of Dundalk, and Captain of his Ma ties strong and defenci­ble Castle of Hurst, in Hampshire) to whom in loue & duty we proffred the gift of our tattred, windshaken and weatherbeaten Boate, which (after our being at Salisbury, being but two miles from thence) his Lordship accepted. And though hee knew shee was almost vnser­uiceable, yet his Noble bounty was such, that [...]he rewarded vs with the price of a new Boat. I had some conference with his Honour, con­cerning the impediments and clensing of the Riuer, and I know he is most forwardly and worthily affected towards it, and no doubt if it be pursued, that then he will doe that which shall become a Gentleman of his Ho­nourable calling and Ranke.

So on the same Friday at night wee came to Salisbury, where we brought our Boate tho­row Fisherton Bridge, on the West side of the City, taking our lodging at the signe of the Kings head there, with mine Host Richard Est­man, whose brother Thomas, was one of the Watermen which came in the Boate thither from London: on the morrow, I with my com­pany footed it two miles to Wilton, where at the Right Honourable the Earle of Pembrokes, my Lord Chamberlaines house, I was most freely (and beyond my worth and merit) kind­ly welcomed, by the Right Worshipfull, Sir Thomas Morgan Knight, with whom I dined, and by whose command I was shewed all or the most part of the admirable contriued Roomes, in that excellent, and well built house; which Roomes were all richly ador­ned with Costly and sumptuous hangings; his Maiestie some few daies before hauing di­ned there with most magnificent Entertaine­ment, as did expresse the loue of so Noble a House-keeper for so Royall a Guest: vpon the sight of which house with the Furniture, I wrote these following verses.

If Wholsom Aire, Earth, woods, & pleasant Springs
Are Elements, whereby a house is grac'd:
If strong and stately built, contentment brings,
Such is the house of Wilton, and so plac'd.
There Nature, Art, Art, Nature hath embrac'd;
Without, within, below, aloft compleat:
Delight and state, are there so enterlac'd
With rich content, which makes all good, and great.
The Hangings there, with Histories repleat,
Diuine, profane, and Morall pleasures giuing,
With worke so liuely, exquisite, and neat,
As if mans Art made mortall creatures liuing.
In briefe, there all things are compos'd so well,
Beyond my pen to write, or tongue to tell.

Then was I shewed a most faire and large Armory, with all manner of prouision and Furniture, for Pike, Shot, Bills, Halberts, Iauelins, with other Weapons and munition, which for goodnesse, number, and well-kee­ping, is not second to any Noblemans in Eng­land: Afterwards I went to the Stables, and saw my Lords great Horses, whom I saw such, and so good, that what my vntutour'd Pen cannot sufficiently commend, I am forced with silence to ouerpasse. But amongst the rest, the pains and industry of an ancient Gen­tleman Mr. Adrian Gilbert, must not bee for­gotten: for there hath hee (much to my Lords [Page 32] cost and his owne paines) vsed such a deale of intricate Setting, Grafting, Planting, in­oculating, Rayling, hedging, plashing, tur­ning, winding, and returning circular, Trian­gular, Quadrangular, Orbicular, Ouall, and euery way curiously and chargeably concei­red [...] There hath hee made Walkes, hedges, and Arbours, of all manner of most delicate fruit Trees, planting and placing them in such admirable Artlike fashions, resembling both diuine and morall remembrances, as three Ar­bours standing in a Triangle, hauing each a recourse to a greater Arbour in the midst, re­sembleth three in one, and one in three: and he hath there planted certaine Walkes and Arbours all with * Fruit trees, so pleasing and rauishing to the sense, that he calls it Para­dise, in which he playes the part of a true A­damist, continually toyling and tilling. More­ouer, he hath made his Walkes most rarely round and spacious, one walke without ano­ther, (as the rindes of an Onion are greatest without, and lesse towards the Center) and withall, the hedges betwixt each walke are so thickly set, that one cannot see thorow from the one walke, who walkes in the other: that in conclusion, * the worke seemes end­lesse, and I thinke that in England it is not to be fellowed, or will in haste be followed. And in loue which I beare to the memory of so in­dustrious and ingenious a Gentleman, I haue written these following Anagrams.

Adryan Gilbert,
Anagrams.
  • Art redily began
  • A breeding tryall.
Art redily began a breeding tryall,
VVhen she inspir'd this worthy Gentleman:
For Natures eye, of him tooke fulle spiall,
And taught him Art, Art readily began,
That though Dame Nature was his Tutresse, he,
Outworkes her, as his workes apparent be.
For Nature brings but earth, and feeds and plants,
Which Art, like Taylors, cuts and puts in fashion:
As Nature rudely doth supply our wants,
Art is deformed Natures reformation.
So Adryan Gilbert mendeth Natures features;
By Art, that what shee makes, doth seeme his creatures.

THus with my humble thankes to Sir Tho­mas Morgan, and my kinde remembrance to all the rest of my Lords Seruants there, my legges and my labouring lynes returne a­gaine to Salisbury, and from the next day (be­ing Sunday) to Langford, to my Lord Gorge his house, with whom I dined, and left my hum­ble thanks for the reckoning. In briefe, my fruitlesse and worthy lip-labour, mixt with a deale of Ayrie, and non substantiall matter, I gaue his Lordship, and the like requitall I be­stowed on the right VVorshipfull Mr. Thomas Squibb, Maior of Sarum, with Mr. Banes, Mr [...] Iuy, M. Windouer, with all the rest; and more then thankes, and a gratefull remembrance of their Honourable, VVorshipfull, and friendly fauours, I know they expect not, and lesse then such a common duty as Gratitude I must not, or cannot pay. To shut vp all in few words, I know, his Maiesties pious inclination is so am­ple, that he will be graciously pleased with a­ny of your laudable endeauours for your wel­fare and commodity, if you take good and speedy aduice, then no doubt but the effects wil be according to your honest intendments.

So farewell, Salisbury, till we meete againe, which I hope will be one day: in the meane space I pray thee take this poore Pamphlet as a louing pledge of my returne. Me thinks I see already, Men, Horses, Carts, Mattocks, Sho­uels, Spades, VVheelebarrowes, Handbar­rowes, and Baskets at worke for the cleaning of your Riuer: But if my thoughts doe deceiue me, and my expectation faile, I shall euer here­after giue small credit to their intelligence. So once more, Salisbury, I wish thee thankefully well to fare.

On Thursday the 21. of August I took Wo [...] ­chester in my way homewards: where I saw a [...] ancient City, like a body without a soule: and I know not the reason of it, but for ought which I perceiued, there were almost as ma­ny Parishes as people. I lodged at the signe of [Page 33] the Cocke, being recommended to the Host of the house, by a token from Salisbury, but mine Host dyed the night before I came, and I being weary, had more minde to goe to bed then to follow him so long a iourney, to doe my message, or deliuer any commendations: but the whole City seemed almost as dead as mine Host, and it may be they were all at Har­ [...]est worke: but I am sure I walked from the [...] end of it to the other, and saw not 30. peo­ple of all sorts: So that I think if a man should goe to Winchester for a Goose, he might lose his [...]abour, for a Trader cannot liue there, by ven­ting such commodities.

On Friday I gallopp'd a foot pace one and twenty miles, from Winchester to Farneham; where I and one of my company hired a cou­ple of Hampshire lenets, with seuen legges, and three eyes betwixt them, vpon whom wee hobbled seuenteene miles, to Stanes, whence on Saturday the 23. of August we footed it to Brenford, and Boated it to Lon­DON.

The Scourge of Basenesse: OR, The old Lerry, with a new Kicksey, and a new-cum twang, with the old Winsey:

DEDICATED TO THE MIRROR OF GOOD FELLOW­SHIP, THE PATTERNE OF TRVE FRIENDSHIP, AND the onely nonparallell of iouiall Entertainement; M r Andrew Hilton, at the signe of the Horse-shoo, at Daintree; I. Taylor wisheth daily increase of good Guests, true payment, hearts content in this life, and afterward as much happinesse as his soule can desire.

KInde Sir, I haue seene oftentimes men offering to snuffe a candle, haue against their wills put it cleane out; and an vnskilfull Chyrurgian taking a small greene wound in hand, hath brought it to an old Vlcer. I would be loth, for my part, to imitate either of these examples; for my intent is, confession of the wrong I did you, and an en­deauour to make amends. I doe confesse that I did you wrong in print, in my booke of my Trauels to Scotland, and now in print, I doe make you a publike satisfaction; For, I protest to God, that [Page 34] I haue heard so much good report of you, that I am double sorry that I was so mistaken, and that I haue beene so long time before I haue printed my recan [...] ­tion. It was your Tapsters want of wit and manners, and my want of discre­tion, that was the grounds of my too much credulity and temerity. For his part I wish him no more harme, but that chalke may bee his best payments, Thun­der may sowre his Hogsheads, Rats gnaw out his spigots at midnight, and him­selfe to commit his wit to the keeping of a foole or a knaue while hee liues; And your Ostlers, for gaping so greedily like Gudgeons vpon mee, I pray that they may euery day mourne in litter and horse dung. But these are but Iests by the way: for as many as know you, haue told mee, that if you had beene at home, my entertainement had beene better. If it had beene so, it had beene more then you owed me, and more then I at that time could haue required: but I would haue stretched my wit vpon the tenters of Inuention, in the prayse of Innes and Inne-keepers, I would haue put the forgetfull world in minde of the good seruice that Rahab the Innekeeper did at Iericho, in hiding and preseruing the spyes that were sent by Caleb and Ioshua; I would haue made the obliuious logger-headed Age remember, that the Redeemor of the world did grace in Inne with his blessed birth: What place then but an Inne was the High Court of Heauen and earth, the residence and lodging of the immortall King, of neuer­ending eternity? This and more I would haue done, but what is past cannot bee recalled, and it is too late to put old omittings to new committings. And so, my noble and thrice worthy Oast of Oasts, I omit not to commit you and yours to the protection of him that made you, desiring you to take this merry Pamphlet in good part, or in earnest of my better amends, and as a qualifier of your iust anger.

Yours in the best of his endeauours to be commanded, IOHN TAYLOR

To the Reader.

MY hearty condemnations I send forth
Vnto a crue of Rascals nothing worth,
Yet in some sort I wrong their high reputes:
[...]e of them are worth hanging for their sutes)
[...]ch as (to pay debts) haue the meanes, not mindes,
[...]hose words, and bonds, are constant as the winds,
Such as thinke satisfaction is a sinne,
And he most vertuous that's in debt most in,
Such, for whose sakes, (to my apparent losse)
To Germany, I twice the Seas did crosse,
To Scotland all on foot, and backe from thence,
Not any Coyne about me for expence,
And with a Rotten weake Browne paper Boate,
To Quinborough, from London I did floate:
Next to Bohemia, o'r the raging Maine,
And troublous Lands, I went and came againe.
Next, with a Wherry, I to Yorke did Ferry,
Which I did finde a voyage very merry.
And lastly, Late I made a desperate launt,
From Famous Lnodon, (somtimes Troynouant)
To Salisbury, through many a bitter blast,
I, Rockes, and Sands, and foaming Billowes past,
That in ten thousand mouthes, the City round,
The lying, flying newes was, I was drown'd:
But I may see them hang'd before that day,
Who are my Debtors, can, and will not pay:
These toylesome passages I vndertooke,
And gaue out Coyne, and [...] a hundred Booke,
Which these base Mungrels tooke, and promist me
To giue me fiue for one, some foure, some three:
But now these Hounds, no other pay affords,
Then shifting, scornefull lookes, and scuruy words;
And sure I thinke, if I should harrow Hell,
VVhere Dinels, and cursed Reprobates do dwell,
I might finde many there, that are their betters,
And haue more conscience, then my wicked debters.
Thus to my seuen-fold troope of friends and foes,
My thankes, and angry Muse, thus onward goes.

THE VVHY AND THE VVHEREFORE.

I Haue published this Pamphlet, to let my rich debtors vnderstand, that as often as I meet them, I doe looke that they should pay mee: and although I am shame­faste in not asking my due, yet I would not haue them shamelesse in detaining it from me, because the summes are but small, and very easie for them (in gene­rall) to pay, and would doe me a particular good to rece [...]ue.

Secondly, I haue sent this into the world, to informe same, that through their want doe shun [...]d auoid my sight and company, that they are much deceiued in my disposition; for I euer [...]desteeme an honest heart and a willing minde, as well as their performances.

Thirdly, there are some great men, who by reason of their extraordinary imployments, my [Page 36] small acquaintance, and lesse meanes of accesse vnto them, with my want of impudency, and their mens want of courtesie to inform thē; all these are lets & demurs, against my satisfactions.

Lastly, the daily abuses that I haue concerning the booke of my Trauels, wherein I am ac­cused for lies, and falsifications; but I doe and euer will stedfastly stand to the truth of euery tittle of it, except the abuse that I did to Master Hilton at Daintree, and that was not done on knowne malice neither, but on blind ignorant information: and there is a second Edition of my bookes of Trauels comming foorth, wherein I will Satyrize, Cauterize, and Stigmatize all the whole kennell of curres that dare maliciously snarle against manifest, ap­parant, and well knowne truths. In the meane space, you that are my debtors, if you please to pay me, you shall therein put your selues out of a bad number amongst which you yet are pla­ced: if you will not pay mee, take this bone to gnaw vpon, That I doe hope to bee euer bet­ter furnished with money, then you shall be with honestie.

I.T.

A Table of the generall heads, containing seuen parts.

  • 1 THose that haue paid.
  • 2 Those that would pay if they could.
  • 3 Those that walke inuisible, and are not to be found.
  • 4 Those that say they will pay, who knowes when.
  • 5 Those that are dead.
  • 6 Those that are fled.
  • 7 Those Rorers that can pay, and will not.
Those that To euer meane to pay,
Nothing at all this booke doth say:
To such my Satyre talketh still,
As haue not paid, nor euer will.

A KICKSEY VVINSEY, OR, A LERRY COME-TWANG: Wherein Iohn Taylor hath Satyrically suted seuen hundred and fifty of his bad debtors, that will not pay him for his returne of his iourney from Scotland.

1. My thankes to those that haue paid.
YOu worthy Worthies, of that liberall Tribe,
Who freely gaue your words, or did subscribe:
And were not itch'd with the vain-glorious worme,
To write and lye, but promise and performe,
Black Swans of Britai [...]e, I protest you are,
And seeme (to me) each one a Blazing Starre;
[Page 37] [...]e this inconstant Age so few affoords
[...]f men, whose deeds do counterpoi [...]e their words,
[...]at finding one, me thinkes I see a wonder,
[...]ore then Decembers Fruit, or Winters Thunder;
[...] gratitude, I hold a vice so vile,
[...]at I could n'r endure't a breathing while:
[...]nd therefore ere I'l proue a thanklesse lade,
[...]me in his course shall runne quite retrograde;
[...]ea, euery thing shall hate his proper kinde,
[...]efore ll harbour an ingratefull minde:
[...]ed still I vow to quit you in some part,
With any best wishes, and a thankfull heart.
[...] much to you, my Muse hath sung or said,
[...]hose louing bounties hath the Scullor paid.
2. Those that would pay if they could.
ANd as for you that would pay if you could,
I thank you, though you do not as you should,
[...] promis'd faire, and wrote as free as any,
[...] Time hath altered since, the case with many;
[...]r moneyes, like low Tides, are eb'd too low,
[...]d when, 'tis lowest 'twill begin to flow.
[...] seek a breech from breechlesse men 'twere vain,
[...]d fruitlesse labour would requite my paine:
[...] were no Charity (as I suppose)
[...] bid one wipe his nose, that wants a nose;
[...]d sure my Conscience would be lesse then little,
[...]enrich my selfe, by robbing of the Spittle:
[...] honest friends (to end this vaine dispute)
[...]ur barren states may spring, & bring forth fruite;
[...]ur wills are good, and whilst I keepe your bills,
[...]stead of Payment I accept good wills;
[...] hope and expectation I will feede,
[...]d take your good endeauours for the deede:
[...]aying that Crosses in your mindes may cease,
[...] Crosses in your purses may increase.
3. Those that are hard for me to finde, and being found, were better lost.
ANother sort of debtors are behinde,
Some I know not, and some I cannot finde:
[...]d some of them lie here and there, by spirts,
[...]sting their lodgings oftner then their shirts.
[...]chance I heare where one of these men lies,
[...]d in the morning vp betimes I rise,
[...]d finde in Shorditch where he lodg'd a night;
[...] he to Westminster hath tane his flight.
[...]me two dayes after thither doe I trot,
[...]d finde his lodging, but yet finde him not,
[...] he the night before (as people tell)
[...]th tane a Chamber about Clarken-well.
[...]ither goe I, and make a priuy search,
[...]st, he's in Southwark, neer S. George his Church.
A pox vpon him, all this while thinke I,
Shall I ne'r finde out where my Youth doth ly [...]?
And hauing sought him many a weary boat,
At last, perhaps I finde his chamber out:
But then the Gentleman is fast in bed,
And rest hath seas'd vpon his running head:
He hath tooke cold with going la [...]e by water,
Or sate vp late at Ace, Deuse, Trey, and Cater,
That with a Sinke of fifty pieces price.
He sleepes till noone before his Worship rise;
At last he wakes; his man informes him strain,
That I at dore doe on his pleasure wait;
Perhaps I am requested to come neere,
And drinke a cup of either ale or beere,
Whilst-sucking English fire, and Indian vapor,
At last I greet him with my bill of Paper:
Well Iohn(quoth he) this hand I know is mine,
But I this day doe purpose to goe dine
At the halfe Moone in M [...]lk-street, prethee come,
And there we'l drinke, and pay this petry Summe.
I take my leaue, he in his sleeue doth laugh,
Whilst I beleeue him, (like Iohn hold my staffe)
I in the Tauerne stay, and wait his pleasure,
And he to keepe his word can finde no leasure.
Thus many a street by me recrost and crost,
I in and out, and to and fro, am tost,
And spend my time and coyne to finde one out,
Which hauing found, rewards me with a flout.
In this base fashion, or such like as this,
To me their scuruy daily dealing is:
As one's in's study, t'other's deepe in talke,
Another's in his Garden gone to walke:
One's in the Barbers suddes, and cannot see,
Till chin and chaps are made a Roman T:
And for his making thus a Gull of me,
I wish his cut may be the Graecian P.
These men can kisse their claws, with Iack, how is't?
And take and shake me kindely by the fist,
And put me off with dilatory cogges,
And sweare and lye, worse then a sort of dogs,
Protesting they are glad I am return'd,
When they'd be gladder I were hang'd or burn'd.
Some of their pockets are oft stor'd with chinke,
Which they had rather waste on drabs, dice, drinke,
Then a small petty summe to me to pay,
Although I meet them euery other day:
For which to ease my mind to their disgrace,
I must (perforce) in Print proclaime them base;
And if they pay me not (vnto their shames)
I'l print their trades their dwellings & their names,
That boyes shall hisse them as they walke along,
Whilst they shal stink, & do their breeches wrong:
Pay then, delay not, but with speed disburse,
Or if you will, try but who'l haue the worse.
4. Those that will and doe daily pay me in drinke and smoake.
A Fourth cure I must drop from out my quill,
Are some that haue not paid, yet say they will:
And their remembrance giues my muddy mood,
More ioy then of those that will ne'r be good.
These fellowes my sharpe Muse shall lash but soft,
Because I meet them to their charges oft,
Where at the Tauerne (with free frollicke hearts)
They welcome me with pottles, pints, and quarts;
And they (at times) will spend like honest men,
Twelue shillings, rather then pay fiue or ten.
These are Right Gentlemen, who beare a minde
To spend, and be as liberall as the winde:
But yet their bounty (when they come to pay)
Is bountifull in nothing but delay.
These I doe seeke from place to place,
These make me not to run the wildgoose chase;
These doe from day to day not put me off,
And in the end reward me with a scoffe.
And for their kindnesse, let them take their leasure,
To pay or not pay, let them vse their pleasure.
Let them no worser then they are, still proue:
Their pow'rs may chance out-do me, not their loue;
I meet them to my p [...]rill, and their cost,
And so in time there's little will be lost.
Yet the old prouerbe I would haue them know,
The horse may starue the whilst the grasse doth grow.
5. Those that are dead.
A Fift sort (God be with them) they are dead,
And euery one my quittance vnder's head:
To aske them coyne, I know they haue it not,
And where nought is, there's nothing to be got,
I'l neuer wrong them with in [...]ctiue lines,
Nor trouble their good heires, or their as-signes.
And some of them, their line losse to me were,
In a large measure of true sorrow deere;
As one braue Lawyer, whose true honest spirit
Doth with the blest celestiall soules inherit,
He whose graue wisedome gain'd preeminence,
To grace and fauour with his gracious Prince;
Adorn'd with learning, lou'd, approu'd, admir'd,
He, my true friend, too soone to dust retir'd.
Besides, a number of my worthy friends
(To my great losse) death brought vnto their ends:
Rest, gentle spirits, rest, with Eternizing.
And may your corpes haue all a ioyfull rising:
There's many liuing, euery day I see,
Who are more dead then you in pay to me.
6. Those that are fled.
A Sixt, with tongues glib, like the tailes of E [...],
Hath shew'd this land and me foule paires a he [...]
To Ireland, Belgia, Germany, and France,
They are retyr'd to seeke some better chance.
'Twas their vnhappy inauspicious Fate,
The Counters, or King Luds vnlucky Gate;
Bonds being broke, the stones in euery street,
They durst not tread on, lest they burnt their feet;
Smoke by the Pipe, and Ginger by the race,
They lou'd with Ale, but neuer lou'd the Mace.
And these mens honesties are like their states,
At pittious, wofull, and at low-priz'd rates;
For partly they did know when they did take
My bookes, they could no satisfaction make.
And honesty this document doth teach,
That man shall neuer striue aboue his reach,
Yet haue they reacht, and ouer-reacht me still,
To do themselues no good, and me much ill.
But farewell, friends, if you againe doe come,
And pay me either all, or none, or some:
I looke for none, and therefore still delay me,
You onely doe deceiue me, if you pay me.
Yet that deceit from you were but my due,
But I looke ne'r to be deceiu'd by you.
Your stockes are poore, your Creditors are store,
Which God increase, and decrease, I implore.
7. Those that are as farre from honesty, as a Turke is from true Religion.
SEuenthly, and last's a worthy worthlesse crue,
Such as heau'n hates, & hell on earth doth spe [...],
And God renounce, & dam them, are their praiers,
Yet some of these sweet youths are good mens he [...]
But vp most tenderly they haue bin brought,
And all their breeding better fed then taught:
And now their liues float in damnations streame,
To stab, drab, kil, swil, teare, sweare stare, blasph [...]
In imitation worle then diuels Apes,
Or Incubusses thrust in humane shapes:
As bladders full of others wind is blowne,
So selfe-conceit doth puffe them of their owne:
They deeme their wit all other men surpasses,
And other men esteem them witlesse asses.
These puck foyst cockbrain'd coxcombs, shallow [...]
Are things that by their Taylors are created;
For they before were simple shapelesse wormes,
Vntill their makers lick'd them into formes.
Tis ignorant Idolatry most base,
To worship Sattin Satan, or gold lace,
T'adore a veluet varlet, whole repute
Stinks odious, but for his persumed suite.
[Page 39]If one of these to serue some Lord doth get,
His first taske is to sweare himselfe in debt:
And hauing pawn'd his soule to Hell for oathes,
He pawns those othes for newfound fashiō clothes.
His carkasse cased in this borrowed case,
Imagines he doth me exceeding grace:
If when I meet him, he bestowes a nod,
Then must I thinke me highly blest of God.
Perhaps (though for a Woodcocke I repute him,)
I v [...]ile my bonnet to him, and salute him:
But sure my salutation is as euill,
As infidels that doe adore the Diuell.
For they doe worship Satan for no good,
Which they expect from his infernall mood,
But for they know he's author of all ill,
And o'r them hath a power to spoyle and kill:
They therefore doe adore him in the durt,
Not hoping any good, but fearing hurt.
So I do seeme these minimicks to respect,
Not, that from them I any good expect;
(For I from dogs dung can extract pure honey,
As soone as from these wedgeons get my money)
But I (in courtesie) to them haue bowde,
Because they shall not say, I am grown [...] proud;
And sure if harmelesse true humility,
May spring from money, wanting pouerty,
I haue of debtors such a stinking store,
Will make me humble, for they'l keepe me poore.
And though no wiser then flat fooles they be,
A good lucke on them, they're too wise for me;
They with a courtly tricke, or a flim flam,
Do nod at me, whilst I the noddy am:
One pare of Gentry they will ne'r forget,
And that is, that they ne'r will pay their debt.
To take, and to receiue, they hold it fit,
But to require, or to restore's no wit.
Then let them take and keepe, but knocks, and pox,
And all diseases from Pandora's box.
And which of them sayes that I raue or raile,
Let him but pay, and bid me kisse his T.
But sure the Diuell hath taught them many a tricke,
Beyond the numbring of Arithmeticke.
I meet one, thinking for my due to speake,
He with cuasions doth my purpose breake,
And asks what newes I heare from France or Spain,
Or where I was in the last showre of raine;
Or when the Court remooues, or what's a clocke,
Or where's the wind (or some such windy mocke)
With such fine scimble, scemble, spitter spattar,
[...]s puts me cleane besides the money-matter?
Thus with poor mungrell shifts, with what, where, when?
[...]m abused by these things, like men,
And some of them doe glory in my want,
[...]hey being Romista, Fa Protestant:
[...]heir Apostaticall imunction saith,
[...]o keepe their faith with me, is breach of faith:
For 'tis a Maxim of such Catholicks,
'Tis Meritorious to plague Hereticks;
Since it is so, pray pay me but my due,
And I will loue the Crosse as well as you.
And this much further I would haue you know,
My shame is more to aske, then yours to owe:
I begge of no man, 'tis my owne I craue,
Nor doe I seeke it but of them that haue,
There's no man was inforc'd against his will,
To giue his word, or signe vnto my bill.
And is't not shame, nay, more then shame to heare,
That I should be return'd aboue a yeare,
And many Rich-mens words, and bils haue past,
And tooke of me both bookes, both first and last,
Whilst twice or thrice a weeke, in euery street,
I meet those men, and not my mony meet.
Were they not able me amends to make,
My conscience then would sooner giue then take:
But most of those I meane, are full purs'd Hindes;
Being beggerly in nothing but their mindes:
Yet sure me thinkes, if they would doe me right,
Their mindes should he as free to pay, as write.
Neer threescore pounds, the books I'm sure did cost,
Which they haue had from me, and I thinke lost:
And had not these mens tongues so forward bin,
Ere I my painefull iourney did begin,
I could haue had good men in meaner Rayment,
That long ere this, had made me better payment:
I made my iourney for no other ends,
But to get money, and to try my friends:
And not a friend I had, for worth or wit
Did take my booke, or past his word or writ:
But I (with thankefulnesse) still vnderstood
They tooke, in hope to giue, and doe me good.
They tooke a booke worth 12. pence, & were bound
To giue a Crowne, an Angell, or a pound.
A Noble, piece, or halfe piece, what they list,
They past their words, or freely set their fist.
Thus got I sixteene hundred hands and fifty,
Which summe I did suppose was somwhat thrifty;
And now my youths, with shifts, & tricks, & cauils,
Aboue seuen hundred, play the sharking Iauils.
I haue performed what I vndertooke.
And that they should keepe touch with me I looke:
Foure thousand, and fiue hundred bookes I gaue
To many an honest man, and many a knaue;
Which books, and my expence to giue them out,
(A long yeere seeking this confused rout)
I'm sure it cost me seuenscore pounds and more,
With some suspition that I went on score.
Besides, aboue a thousand miles I went,
And (though no mony) yet much time I spent;
Taking excessiue labour, and great paines,
In heat, cold, wet, and dry, with feet and braines:
With tedious toyle, making my heart-strings ake,
In hope I should content both giue, and take,
[Page 40]And in requitall now, for all my paine,
I giue content still, and get none againe.
None, did I say? I'l call that word agen,
I meet with some that pay now and then,
But such a toyle I haue those men to seeke,
And finde (perhaps) 2,3, or 4. a weeke,
That too too oft, my losings gettings be,
To spend 5. crownes in gathering in of three.
And thus much to the world I dare auow,
That my oft walkes to get my money now,
With my expences, seeking of the same,
Returning many a night home, tyr'd and lame,
Meeting some thirty, forty in a day,
That sees me, knowes me, owes me, yet none pay.
Vs'd and abus'd thus, both in towne and Court,
It makes me thinke my Scottish walke a sport:
I muse of what stuffe these men framed be,
Most of them seeme Mockado vnto me,
Some are Stand-further off, for they endeauer,
Neuer to see me, or to pay me neuer.
When first I saw them, they appeared Rash,
And now their promises are worse then trash;
No Tasfaty more changeable then they,
In nothing constant, but no debts to pay.
And therefore let them take it as they will,
I'l canuase them a little with my quill.
To all the world I humbly doe appeale,
And let it iudge, if well these men doe deale,
Or whether for their basenesse, 'twere not fitter,
That I should vse more gall, and write more bitter?
I wrot this booke before, but for this end,
To warne them, and their faults to reprehend;
But if this warning will not serue the turne,
I sweare by sweet Satyricke Nash his vrne,
On euery pissing polt, their names I'l place,
Whilst they past shame, shall shame to shew their face,
I'l hale fell Nemesis, from Dis his den,
To ayde and guide my sharpe reuenging pen;
That fifty Popes Buls neuer shall roare lowder,
Nor fourscore Cannons whē men fire their powder.
And sure, my wronged Muse could lines indite,
So full of horror, terror, a [...]d affright,
That they (like Cain) confessing their estates;
But little better then base Reprobates;
And hang themselues in their despairing moods,
But that I'l not be guilty of their bloods.
No, let such fellowes know, that Time shall try
My mercie's greater then their honesty:
Nor shall my verse affoord them no such fauour,
To make them saue the hangman so much labour,
They are contented still to patch and palter,
And I (with patience) with them each a halter,
They are well pleas'd to be perfidi [...]m fellowes,
And my reuenge bequeathes them to the gallowes:
For I would haue them th [...]s much vnderstand,
Words are but winde, 'tis money that buyes land:
Words buy no food, or clothes to giue content,
Bare words will neuer pay my Landlord rent.
And those that can pay Coyne, and pay but words,
My minde, a mischiese to them all affoords,
I count them like old shooes, past all mens mending,
And therefore may the Gallowes be their ending:
If some of them would but ten houres spare
From drinking, drabbing, and superstuous fare,
From smoaking English fire, and heathen stinke,
The most of them might well pay me my chinke.
There's no wound deeper then a pen can giue,
It makes men liuing dead, and dead men liue;
It can raise honour drowned in the sea,
And blaze it forth in glory, Cap.a.pea.
Why, it can seale the battlements of Heauen,
And stellifie men 'mongst the Planets seuen:
It can make mizers, peasants, knaues and sooles,
The scorn of goodnesse, and the diuels close stooles,
Forgot had bin the thrice three Worthies names,
If thrice three Muses had not writ their fames:
And if it not with flatt'ry be infected,
Good is by it extold, and bad corrected.
Let Iudgement iudge them, what mad men are those
That dare against a pen themselues oppose,
Which (when it likes) can turn them al to loathing,
To any thing, to nothing, worse then nothing.
Yet e'r I went, these men to write did like,
And vs'd a pen more nimbly then a pike;
And writ their names (as I suppos'd) more willing,
Then valiant Soldiers with their Pikes are drilling.
But this experience, by these men I finde,
Their words are like their payment, all but winde;
But what winde 'tis, is quickly vnderstood,
It is an evill winde, blowes no man good:
Or else they make it to the world appeare,
That writing is good cheape, and paying deare.
No paper bill of mine had edge vpon it,
Till they their hands and names had written on it;
And if their iudgements be not ouer-seene,
They would not feare, the edge is not so keene.
Some thousands, and some hundreds by the yeare
Are worth, yet they their piece or halfe piece feare;
They on their owne bils are afraid to enter,
And I vpon their pieces dare to venter:
But whoso at the bill hath better skill,
Giue me the piece, and let him take the bill.
I haue met some that odiously haue lied,
Who to deceiue me, haue their names denied;
And yet they haue good honest Christian names,
As Ioshua, Richard, Robert, Iohn and Iames:
To cheat me with base Inhumanity,
They haue denide their Christianity,
A halfe piece, or a Crowne, or such a summe,
Hath forc'd them falsifie their Christendome:
Denying good, ill names with them agree,
And they that haue ill names, halfe hanged be,
[Page 41] [...]d sure I thinke, my losse would be but small,
[...] aquittance they were hang'd vp all.
[...] such I am past hope, and they past grace,
[...]d hope and grce both past's, a wretched case,
[...] may be that for my offences past,
[...]d hath vpon me this disturbance cast:
[...]be so I thanke his Name therefore,
[...]nfessing I deserue ten times much more;
[...]s as the Diuell is author of all ill,
[...]ill for ill, on th'ill he worketh still;
[...]mselfe, his seruants, daily lye and lurke,
[...]ns cares on earth, or paines in hell to worke.
[...] how the case then with my debtors stands:
[...]ey take the diuels office out of's hands;
[...]menting me on earth, for passed euils,
[...]d for the diuell, dooth vex me worse then diuels.
[...]troch 'tis pitty proper men they seeme,
[...]d those that know them not, would neuer deeme
[...]ut one of them would basely seeme to meddle,
[...] be the diuels hangman, or his beadle.
[...] shame for honesty, for both, for either,
[...] my deserts desertlesse, or for neither
[...]charge your selues frō me, you know wherefore,
[...]d neuer serue or helpe the Diuell more.
[...] heard some that Lawyers doe condem,
[...]t I still must and will speake well of them;
[...]hough neuer in my life they had of me
[...]arkes, Counsellors, or yet Atturneyes fee,
[...]et at my backe returne, they all concurr'd,
[...]nd payd me what was due, and ne'r demurr'd.
[...]me Counter Serieants, when I came agen,
[...] Against their nature) dealt like honest men.
[...] wondrous accident perchance one may
[...] rope out a needle in a load of hay:
[...]nd though a white Crow be exceeding rare,
[...] blind man may (by fortune) catch a Hare,
[...] may a Serieant haue some honest tricks,
[...] too much knauery doth not ouermix.
[...]ewga [...]e (the Vniuersity of stealing)
[...]id deale with me with vpright honest dealing.
My debtors all (for ought that I can see)
[...]ill still remaine true debtors vnto me;
For if to paying once they should incline,
They would not then be debtors long of mine.
But this report I feare, they still will haue,
To be true debtors euen to their graue.
[...] know there's many worthy proiects done,
The which more credit, and more coyne haue won,
And 'tis a shame for those (I dare maintaine)
That breake their words, & not require their paine:
[...] speake to such, if any such there be,
[...]f there be none, would there were none for me.
But M r Bearnard Caluard too well knowes
The fruits of windy promise and faire showes,
With great expence, and [...]orill, and much paine
He rode by land and crost the raging Maine
In fifteene houres he aid ride and goe,
From Southwarke neere to Cal [...]ice, to and fro.
When he vnto his rost, and detriment,
Shewed vs a memorable president,
In finding out a speedy worthy way,
For newes 'twixt France and London in one day;
And [...]et this well deseruing Gentleman,
Is cheated of his Coyne, dowhat he can,
From him they could both goods and money take,
But to him they'l no satisfaction make,
Their promises were fiue, or ten for one,
And their performances are few, or none.
Therefore it is some comfort vnto me,
When such a man of ranke, and note, as he,
Instead of Coyne is paid with promises,
My being cheated grieues me much the lesse;
Of worthy Gentlemen, I could name more,
That haue past dangers both on seas and shore,
And on [...]ood hopes did venture out their gold,
To some that will no faith, or promise hold,
But basely do detaine, and keepe backe all
Th' expected profit, and the principall;
Yet this one comfort may expell our crosse,
Though we endure, time, coyne, and labors losse:
Yet their abuse doth make our same more great,
'Tis better to be cheated, them [...] cheat.
Those that are dead, or fled, or out of Towne:
Such as know not, nor to them am knowne,
Those that will pay (of which ther's some small number)
And those that smile to put me to this cumber,
In all they are eight hundred and some od,
But when they'l pay me's onely knowne to God.
Some crownes, some pounds, some nobles, some a royall,
Some good, some naught, some worse, most bad in triall.
I, like a boy that shooting with a bow
Hath lost his shaft where weedes and bushes grow;
Who hauing search'd, and rak'd, and scrap'd, & tost:
To finde his arrow that he late hath lost:
At last a crotcher comes into his braine,
To stand at his first shooting place againe;
Then shoots, and lets another arrow flye,
Neere as he thinkes his other shaft may lye:
Thus ventring, he perhaps findes both or one,
The worst is, if he los [...] both, he findes none.
So I that haue of b [...]o [...] so many giu [...]n,
To this compare [...] [...]igent am driuen:
To shoo [...]e this Pamphlet and to ease my minde,
To lose more yet, of something lost to finde.
As many broo [...]es, foords, showres of rain & springs,
Vnto the Thames their often tribute brings,
These subiects paying, not their stocks decrease,
Yet by those payments, Thames doth still increase:
So I that haue of debtors such a swarme,
Good they might do me, and themselues no harm
[Page 42]Inuectiue lines, or words, I write nor say
To none but those that can, and will not pay:
And whoso payes with good, or with ill will,
Is freed from out the compasse of my quill.
They must not take me for a Stupid asse,
That I (vnfeeling) will let these things passe.
If they beare mindes to wrong me, let them know,
I haue a tongue and pen, my wrongs to show;
And be he ne'r so briske, or neat, or trim,
That bids a pish for me, a tush for him;
To me they're rotten trees, with beauteous rhinds,
Fayre formed caskets of deformed minds.
Or like dispersed flocks of scattered sheepe,
That will no pasture, or decorum keepe:
Some wildly skipping into vnknowne grounds
Stray into forraine and forbidden bounds;
Where some throgh want, some throgh excess [...]
The scab, the worme, the murraine, or the rot.
But whilst they wander guidelesse, vncontrolde,
I'l doe my best to bring them to my folde;
And seeing sheepefold hurdles here are scant,
I am inforced to supply that want
With rayling: and therefore mine owne to win,
Like rotten forlorne sheepe, I'l rayle them in.

In defence of Aduentures vpon Returnes.

FOrasmuch as there are many, who either out of pride, malice, or ignorance, do speak harshly, and hardly of mee and of diuers o­thers, who haue attempted and gone dange­rous voyages by sea with small Wherries or Boats, or any other aduenture vpon any voy­age by land, either Riding, Going, or Run­ning, alleadging that wee doe tempt God by vndertaking such perilous courses, (which in­deed I cannot deny to be true) yet not to ex­tenuate or make my faults lesse then they are, I will here approue that all men in the world are Aduenturers vpon Returne, and that wee doe all generally tempt the patience and long suffering of God, as I will make it appeare as followeth.

Whosoeuer is an Idolater, a superstitious Heretike, an odious and frequent swearer, or lyer, [...] griping vsurer, or vncharitable extor­tioner, doth tempt God, aduenture their soules, and vpon returne, lose Heauen.

Whosoeuer is a whore-master, doth aduen­ture his health, and wealth, and his returns are endlesse misery, beggery, and the pox.

Whosoeuer doth contriue, plot, or commit treason, doth aduenture his soule to the diuel, and his body to the Hang-man.

Whosoeuer doth marry a young and beauti­full mayd, doth aduenture a great hazard for a blessing or a curse.

Whosoeuer goes a long iourny, and leaues his faire wife at home, doth most dangerously aduenture for hornes, if she bee not the [...] ­nester.

He that sets his hand to a bond, or pa [...] his word for another mans debt, doth A [...] ­uenture a great hazard to pay both principal and interest. Probatum est.

That Pastor who is either negligent or [...] charitable in his function, doth Aduent [...] more then he will euer recouer.

A Merchant doth Aduenture ship, and goods, amongst flats, shoales, deepes, Pira [...], shelues, rockes, gusts, stormes, flawes, tem­pests, mists, fogges, winds, seas, heats, colds, and calmes, and all for hope of profit, which often fayles.

That Trades-man that daily trusts more ware then he receiues mony for, doth Aduen­ture for Ludgate, a breaking, or a cracking of his credit.

He or shee who are proud either of beauty, riches, wit, learning, strength, or any thing which is transitory, and may be lost, either by fire, water, sicknesse, death, or any other c [...] ­sualty, doe Aduenture to bee accounted vaine­glorious, and ridiculous Coxcombs.

He that puts confidence in Drabs, Dice, Cards, Balls, Bowles, or any game lawfull or vnlawfull, doth aduenture to be laught at for a foole, or dye a begger vnpittied.

He that eats and drinkes till midnight, and fights and brawles till day-light, doth Aduen­ture for little rest that night.

[Page 43]To conclude, I could name and produce abundance more of Aduenturers; but as con­ [...]cerning aduenturing any more dangerous [...]voyages to sea, with Wherries, or any extra­ordinary meanes, I haue done my last, onely my frailty will now and then prouoke mee to aduenture vpon some of those infirmities or vices, which attend on our mortalities, which I thinke I shall be free from committing, before my debtors haue paid me all my money.

FINIS.

Taylors Motto.

DEDICATED TO EVERY BODY.

YEt not to euery Reader doe I write,
But onely vnto such as can Read right:
And with vnpartiall censures can declare,
As they find things, to iudge them as they are.
For in this age, Criticks are such store,
That of a B. will make a Battledore,
Swallow downe Camells, and at Gnats will straine,
Make Mountaines of small Molehills, and againe
Extenuate faults, or else faults amplifie,
According as their carping censures flye.
Such are within the Motto of I haue,
But though the gallant Gulls be ne'r so braue,
And in their owne esteeme are deemed wise,
I haue a mind their follies to despise.
There are some few that wil their iudgement season
With mature vnderstanding, and with reason:
And call a spade a spade, a Sicophant,
A flatt'ring Knaue, and those are those I want.
For those that seeme to read, and scarce can spell,
Who neither point, nor keepe their periods well
Who doe a mans inuention so be-martyr,
So hanging, drawing, and so cut and quarter,
Making good lines contemptible threed-bare,
To keepe my booke from such as those I care.
Adue. IOHN TAYLOR.

TAYLORS MOTTO. ET HABEO, ET CAREO, ET CVRO. I HAVE, I VVANT, I CARE.

IS any man offended? marry gep
With a horse nightcap, doth your Iadeship skip?
Although you kicke, and fling, and wince and spurn,
Yet all your Colts-tricks will not serue your turne.
Vice hath insected you, 'gainst vertues force,
With more diseases then an aged horse:
*For some of you are hide-bound greedily,
Some haue the yellowes of false Ielousie,
Some with the staggers, cannot stand vpright,
Some blind with Bribes, can see to doe no right,
Some foundred, that to Church they cannot goe,
Broke-winded some, corrupted breath doth blow,
Some hoofe-bound, some surbated, and some graueld
With trauelling, where they shuld not haue traueld,
Some are crest-falne through th'immoderate vice
Of gorgeous outsides, smoake, and drinke and dice,
And some are full of [...]allenders and scratches,
The neck-cricke, spauins, shouldersplat, and aches,
The ring-bone, quitter-bone, bots, botch, and scab.
And nauelgall, with coursing of the Drab.
The back, gall, light-gall, wind-gall, shackle-gall,
And last, the spur-gall, the worst gall of all,
A good found horse needs not my whip to feare,
For none but Iades are wrung i'th withers here.
And doe these Hackneyes thinke to runne on still,
(Without a bit or snafsle) as they will,
And head-strong prancing through abuses, dash,
And scape without a Satyrs yerking lash?
No they must know, the Muses haue the might,
The vniust iustly to correct and smite,
To memorize victorious Vertues praise,
To make mens same or shame out-liue their day [...],
To force iniustice (though it doe looke bigge)
With his owne nayles his cursed graue to digge:
T'emblaze the goodnesse of a man that's poore,
And tell the vices of an Emperour.
All this the Muses dare, and will, and can,
Not sparing, fearing, flattring any man.
And so dare I, (if I iust cause doe see)
To write, from feare, or hate, or flattry free,
Or taxing any in particulere,
But generall at all, is written here.
For had I meant the Satyre to haue plaid,
In Aqua fortis, I would whips haue laid,
And mixt my inke (to make it sharpe with all)
With sublimate, and Cockatrices gall,
Which, with a Satyres spleene, and fury fierce,
With the least ierke, would to the entrailes pie [...]e,
And with a lash that's lustily laid on,
Would strip and whip the world, vnto the bone:
I know that none at me will spurne or kicke,
Whose consciences no villany doth pricke,
And such as those will in their kennels lye,
And gnar and snarle, and grumble secretly,
But with full mouth, they dare not barke or bite,
But fret within, with rancor and despight.
For why (before the world) I make a vow,
There doth not liue that male, or female now.
'Gainst whom I haue so much as is a thought,
Much lesse, against them are my Verses wrought.
This Motto in my head, at first I tooke,
In imitation of a better Booke:
And to good mindes I no offence can giue,
To follow good examples, whilst I liue.
[Page 45] [...]or I had rather to abide detraction,
[...]od be an Ape in any honest action:
[...]hen wilfully into a fault to runne,
[...]hough it before had by a King bin done.
[...]e not here reuil'd against my betters,
[...]hich make me fear no dungeon, bolts, or fetters:
[...]or be he ne'r so great, that doth apply
[...]y lines vnto himselfe, is worse then I.
[...]mooth is my stile, my method meane and plaine.
[...]ee from a railing, or inuectiue straine:
[...] harmeleffe fashion here I doe declare,
[...]ine owne rich wants, poore riches, and my care,
[...]nd therefore at my wants let no man grieue,
[...]xcept his charges will the same relieue:
[...]nd for my Wealth (except a rotten Boat)
[...] neuer feared the cutting of my throat.
[...]nd those that for my cares doe enuy me,
[...]all in them (if they list) great sharers be.
[...]ll my taxations are in generall,
[...]oe any personall, or nationall:
[...]he troubles now in France, I touch not here,
[...]or of the Britain [...] Fleete before Argi [...]re.
[...]or of the forces that the Turke doth bring,
[...]gainst the Poland Kingdome and their King,
[...]f Count Buckoy, of Beth'lem, Gabor, or
Of Spinola, or any Ambassador,
Nor Denmarks King, nor of the Emperour,
Nor Netherlands great Nauigable pow'r,
Nor of Religious points my Muse doth chant,
Of Ro [...]ish Catholicke, or Protestant:
Of Brownist, Hussite, or of Caluinist,
[...]minian, Puritan, or Familist,
Nor against Corporation, trade, or Art,
My poore inuention speakes in any part.
And therefore Critticke, snarle, and snap, and hang,
[...]f inwardly thou feele my Satyres sang:
[...]is wisedome in thee, if thy spleene thou hide,
And mend thy selfe, before thy faults be spide.
Thus as I boldly haue begun to enter,
Couragiously I'l thorow the businesse venter.

Et Habeo, I haue.

I Haue a Soule, which though it be not good,
'Twas bought at a deare rate, my Sauiours Blood:
And though the Diuell continually doe craue it,
Yet he that bought it, hath most right to haue it.
I (with my soule) haue power to vnderstand,
The summe of my Creators great Command:
And yet I haue a Law within me still,
That doth rebell against his Sacred Will.
But though (through merit) I haue Hell deseru'd,
Through Mercy yet I haue a Heau'n reseru'd.
I haue a reason, which can difference make
'Twixt good and bad, to choose, and to forsake:
I haue a working, forward, and free will,
Wherewith I haue inclined to doe ill.
I haue a Conscience, which doth tell me true,
That for my sinnes the wrath of God is due:
And to relieue that Conscience terrifi'd,
I haue a Faith in Iesus Crucifi'd.
I haue a iudgement, by the which I see,
And iudge, how good and bad things different bee:
And with iust Censure, I distinguish can,
The oddes beeweene a monster and a man.
But when with iudgement on my selfe I looke,
I straight wayes am with feare and horror strooke:
And finding my afflicted Conscience grudg'd,
I iudge my selfe, for feare of being iudg'd.
I haue a Knowledge, by the which I know,
That all that's good in me, God did bestow:
And all my thoughts, and words, and actions euill,
I haue them (like my neighbors) from the Deuill.
By this my Knowledge, sometimes skill I haue,
To know an honest man, and know a knaue:
To know where I fare well, to come againe,
Where Friends for loue doe onely entertaine,
To know that Enuy, Pride and Letchery,
Sloth, Wrath, Auarice, and Gluttony,
Doth make the world dance Antique in a string,
And all their followers to confusion bring.
I know that griping base Extortion,
As it gets wealth without proportion,
Eu'n so, without proportion, rule or measure,
Shall be consum'd that most accursed Treasure.
I know a swearer, when I heare his Oathes,
I know a Gull, although he weare good Cloathes,
I know a Prodigall, by's lauish spending,
I know a Foole (my selfe) by too much lending.
I know I haue discharged others Score,
But will (for ought I know) doe so no more.
I know, that foure and twenty letters teaches
Al the whole world stongues, languages & speaches.
I know that I not any word can frame,
But in some Language 'tis an Anagram.
And though the world of sundry parts consists,
Yet all the world are Anagramatists.
I know the numbers numberlesse of faces,
That were are, shall be, at all times, and places,
Are all vnlike each other, for we see,
They each from other may distinguish'd be.
I know, the difference of these voyces are
Vnlike each other, being neere, or farre,
And that mens seuerall writings are contrary,
And in some things from one another vary,
And by this knowledge I haue in ward sight.
How that the workes of God are infinite.
I haue credulity, that when I heare
A man anouch a thing, protest and sweare,
[Page 46] I haue giu'n credit to him by and by,
Although the wicked wretch did sweare and lye,
Because I haue a hope that want of grace,
Doth not our Makers Image quite deface,
As that a man who hath wit, sence, or reason,
Dares to commit so horrible a treason,
As to call God to witnesse of his lies,
Thereby to countenance his villanies.
Thus through simplicity, and light beliefe,
I haue belieu'd an acrant whore, or thiefe.
I haue opinion, and haue euer had,
That when I see a stagg'ring drunken swad:
Then that a man worse then an Asse, I see,
Because an Asse will neuer drunken be.
And yet in mine opinion I am bold,
(That friendship and society to hold)
The merry spending of an idle houre.
To take a cup, or two, or three, or foure,
If soberly the meeting be well ended,
Tis tolerable, and to be commended,
And yet I haue my imperfections too,
Which make me daily doe, as others doe:
For I (like many rich men) now and than,
Make shew to be a very honest man:
But strong temptations dog me euery houre,
Which to resist I haue so little pow'r,
That if (perhaps) I had their meanes, I thinke.
I should (as they doe) dice, and drab, and drinke,
And through infirmity, or wilfulnesse,
Run greedily to Riots vaine excesse:
For Honors do change Manners; wealth and place
Are (oftentimes) temptations to disgrace,
And did some Great men cast vp their account,
To what their vaine expences doe amount;
So much for needlesse quarts, so much for smoake,
Paid so much for Eringoes, (to prouoke)
So much for Coach-hire, so much for a whore,
With Item, not three halfe-pence to the poore.
And who knowes, if I had their meanes, I say,
But I should be as very a Knaue as they [...]
For I haue imperfections, and a will,
And fraile infirmities, [...] attempt what's ill,
That I in no good action cannot [...]tand,
Except supported by th'Almighties hand.
I haue a sence and feeling simpathy,
Of others woe, and want, and misery:
If one man doth doe good, another bad,
I (for them both) can be both glad, and sad.
For when I see a Great man raysed hye.
I haue a sence of his Nobility,
And wish, that all his Actions still may be,
To make him worthy of his dignitie.
But when I see that Fortune 'ginnes to frowne,
And from her fickle wheele to cast them downe,
Though their soule faults I hate and doe abhor,
Yet as th'are men, I haue a pitty for.
For when a whore is whip'd, a Bawd i'th Cart,
A drunkard in the stockes, for his desert:
An arrant Knaue, or periurde wretch to stand,
And makes the Pillory his failing band;
Or one, whose backward Fortune doth preuaile,
To make a bridle of a Horses taile,
With riding Retrograde, i'th streets proclaime,
On their own backs & brests, their faults & [...]
When any Villaine for his fault is tortur'd,
A Thiefe, or Traytor, hang'd, or drawn & qua [...]
As I doe hope for mercy from Aboue,
As they are men, they doe my pitty moue,
And I doe grieue, the Diuell hath so much pow' [...]
Ma [...]s Reason, and Alleageance to deuoure;
And that of Grace they laid no faster hold,
But fall into these mischiefes manifold.
I haue a Fortune that attends on me,
For neuer will I Fortunes vassall be:
And let her frowne or smile, or hang her selfe.
And giue me either pouerty or pelfe,
Or cast me low, or lift me vp on hye,
Yet (spright her teeth) I'l liue vntill I dye.
For all mans outward happinesse, are things
Ty'd and bound fast to fickle Fortunes wings:
Which when she lift, she will alight and stay.
And when her wheele but turnes, she flies away.
She's bountifull to fooles, and therefore I
Haue small share in her liberality.
On wise men she doth fauours seldome fix:
For wisedome scorns her slights and iugling [...]
And yet no industry of man aliue,
(If Fortune frowne on him) can make him thri [...]
For why, so pow'rfull is the purblinde witch,
To raise vp knaues, and make fooles diuelish ric [...],
To set an Asse on top of all her wheele,
And to kicke vertue backward, with her heele:
To raise a Piper, Pander, or a Iester,
And therefore hang the Hag, I doe detest her.
She hath strange tricks, and works for diuers [...]
To make a Great man haue more kin then friend [...]
But seldome she this good report doth win,
To make a poore man haue more friends then li [...].
A King in's Throne, a Generall in the warre,
Places of best command, and reuerence are.
But yet if Fortune frowne on their affaires,
They shall be rich in nothing but in cares.
Shee's like a Ianus with a double face,
To smile and Iowre; to grace, and to disgrace;
She lou's and loathes, together at an instant,
And in inconstancy is onely constant.
Vncertaine certaine, neuer loues to settle,
But here, there, euery where; in dock, out ne [...]
The man whom all her frownes or fauours spu [...]
Regardeth not her wheele, how oft it turnes.
A wise man knowes she's casier found then kept,
And as she a good, or bad, he doth accept.
[Page 47]He knowes she comes intending not to stay,
[...]nd gui's but what she meanes to take away.
[...]or by discretion is truly knowne,
[...]er liberall gifts she holds still as her owne.
And vnto me her bounty hath bin such,
[...]hat if she cak't againe, I care not much.
I haue loue which I to God doe owe,
With which I haue a feare doth in me grow:
[...]loue him for his goodnesse, and I feare
[...]o angee him, that hath lou'd me so deare.
[...]feare in lout, as he's a gracious God,
Not loue for feare of his reuenging Rod.
And thus a louing feare in me I haue,
Like an adopted sonne, not like a slaue.
[...] haue a King whom I am bound vnto,
[...]o doe him all the seruice I can doe:
To whom when I shall in Alegeance faile,
Let all the Diuels in hell my soule assaile;
If any in his gouernment abide,
In whom foule Treacherous malice doth recide
[...]Gainst him, his Royall off-spring or his friends,
[...] wish that Halters may be all their ends.
And those that cannot most vnfainedly
[...]y this, and sweare, as consident as I:
Of what degree soe'r, I wish (one houre)
They were in some kind skilfull Hangmans power.
I haue a life was lent me 'fore my birth,
By the great Landlord both of Heau'n and Earth:
But though but one way vnto life is common,
For All that euer yet was borne of woman,
Yet are there many thousand wayes for death,
To dispossesse vs of our liues, and breath.
For why, the Lord of life (that life doth make)
Will (as the pleaseth) life both giue and take,
And let me (blamelesse) suffer punishment,
Or losse of goods, or causelesse banishment,
Let me be hang'd, or burn'd, or stab'd, or drownd.
A [...]'s one to me so still my Faith keepe sound,
Then let my life be ended, as God will,
This is my minde, and hope shall be so still:
To get to Heau'n, come thousand deaths together,
Th'are welcome pleasures, if they bring me thither.
I know for certaine, all Mortality,
When it begins to liue, begins to dye;
And when our liues that backe againe we giue,
We euer endlesse then doe dye, or liue.
When good men wish long life, 'tis vnderstood
That they would longer liue, to doe more good:
But when a bad man wisheth to liue long,
It is because he faine would doe more wrong.
And this one reason giues me much content,
Though I shall haue no Marble Monument,
Where my corrupted Carkasse may inherit,
With Epitaphs, to blaze my want of merit,
To waste as much to pollish and be-guild,
As would a charitable Almes-house build.
All which a gouty Vsurer, or worse,
May haue, and haue poore peoples heauy curse,
That many times the sencelesse Marble weeps,
Because the execrated corps it keepes.
When the meane space, perhaps the wretched soule,
In flames vnquenchable doth yell and howle.
I haue a hope, that doth my heart refresh,
How-e'r my soule be sundred from my flesh:
Although I haue no friends to mourne in sacke,
With merry insides, and with outsides blacke;
Though ne'r so poorely they my corps interre,
Without bell, booke, or painted Sepulcher,
Although I misse these trisles Transitory,
I haue a hope my soule shall mount to glory.
I haue a vaine in Poetry, and can
Set forth a knaue to be an honest man;
I can my Verses in such habit clad,
T'abuse the good, and magnisie the bad.
I can write (if I lift) nor Rime or Reason,
And talke of fellony and whistle Treason,
And Libell against goodnesse (if I would)
And against misery could raile and scould;
Foule Treachery I could mince out in parts,
Like Vintners pots, halfe pints, and pints & quarts.
Euen so could I, with Libels base abound,
From a graine waight, or scruple, to a pound,
With a low note I could both say or sing.
As much as would me vnto Newgate bring,
And straining of my voyce a little higher,
I could obtaine the Fleet at my desire:
A little more aduancing of my note,
I from the Fleet, might to the Gatehouse flote,
Last, aboue Ela raising but my power,
I might, in state be mounted to the Tower.
Thus could my Muse (if I would be so base)
Run carelesse, by degrees, into disgrace,
But that for loue of goodnesse I forbeare,
And not for any seruile flauish feare.
Time seruing vassalls shall not me applaud,
For making of my Verse a great mans Bawd:
To set a lustre, and a flatt'ring glosse,
On a dishonourable lump of drosse;
To slabber o'r a Ladies homely feature,
And set her forth for a most beauteous creature.
Nor shall my free inuention stoope t'adore,
A fowle diseased, pocky painted whore.
Rewards or bribes my Muse shall ne'r entice,
To wrong faire Vertue, or to honor Vice.
But as my Conscience doth informe me still,
So will I praise the good, condemne the ill.
That man is most to be abhord of men.
Who in his cursed hand dares take a pen,
Or be a meanes to publish at the presse
Prophaned lines or obsceane beastlinesse,
Scurrility, or knowne apparant lyes,
To animate or couer villanies;
[Page 48]A halter for such Poets, stead of Bayes,
Who make the Muses whores, much worse then Thais,
Such Rascals make the Heliconian well,
(In estimation and respect) like hell.
And of all good men iustly are rewarded,
Contemn'd and scorn'd like hell hounds, vnregarded.
For Poetry (if it be vs'd aright)
Sets forth our Makers mercy, and his might:
For though (through ignorance) it hath some foes,
God may be prais'd in Verse as well as prose.
Poets in Comedies are fit for Kings,
To shew (them Metaphoricall) such things
As is conuenient they should know and heare,
Which none but Poets dare to speake for feare.
A Poet's borne a Poet, and his trade
Is still to make: but Orators are made:
All Arts are taught and learn'd, we daily see,
But taught a Poet, neuer yet could be.
And as the Tree is by the fruit well knowne,
So by his writing is a Poet showne;
If he be well dispos'd, hee'l well indite,
If ill inclinde, he vicsously will write.
And be he good or bad, in his condition.
His Lines will shew his inward disposition.
And to conclude this point and make an end,
The best amongst them hath much need to mend.
I haue a tongue, and could both sweare and lye,
(If to such customes, I would it apply)
But often swearing now and then for sweares,
And lying, a mans credit quite out weares;
I'l trust an arrant Thiefe to keepe my purse,
As soone as one that loues to sweare and curse:
For can it be that he that takes a vse,
And custome, God in swearing to abuse,
Can it be thought he will make Conscience then,
To play the false dissembling Knaue with men?
Nor can my supposition euer dreame,
That he who dares his Makers name blasphome,
But that if Time would but occasions bring,
He would betray his Countrey, and his King.
For 'tis a Maxim, (no man can conuince)
The man that feares not God, loues not his Prince.
And he that cares not for his soule, I thinke,
Respects not, if his Country swim or sinke.
To lying I beare such a hate, that I
Will neuer (wittingly) affirme a lye:
I will not say, but I a lye may say,
But I will not affirme it any way:
Tis the maintaining falshoods to be true,
To whom a lyers odious name is due.
That all vntruths are falshoods, none denies,
But sure all falshoods cannot be cald lies.
For Esops fables, Ouids, art-like fictions,
(Although they are 'gainst truth meere contradictions,
Of humane transformations from their kind,
Of disputations 'twixt the Sunne, and winde.
Of fowles, and beasts, and riuers, trees, and stones,
To tell each other of their ioyes or mones,
Of men trāsform'd to dogs, beares, bulls, swine, ape [...]
Which showes that treasons, murders, incests, [...]
Turne men into worse forms then beastly crea [...]
When reason's dispossest by brutish natures.
A fiction, fable, or a harmelesse iest
I tolerate, but lyes I doe detest.
Th'Egyptians had a Law, that euery lyer
Should strait-way be beheaded, for their hyre.
But if that Law wère executed here,
Few Pettifoggers would be found I feare.
The very Court would forfeit now and than,
Many a complementing Gentleman.
But sure the City were the greatest share,
Where lying buyes and sells a world of ware;
The Countrey sometimes would a head allow,
In selling Corne, a Horse, a Sow, a Cow:
And then a headsman would get store of pelse,
If he could but refraine to lye himselfe.
I haue a memory like (as I doe find)
A wallet, [...]alfe before, and halfe behind.
In the fore-part my neighbors faults I put,
Behind (quite from my sight) mine owne are sh [...]
Thus partiality runnes like a streame.
To spy a Mout and not to see a Beame.
But when as reason memory collects,
T'examine my owne impotent defects,
Then doth it vnto me such things record,
As make me (almost) of my selfe abhord.
It tells me, I was in corruption borne,
And to corruption that I shall returne.
It tells me, that betwixt my birth and this,
I haue done thousand thousand thing [...] amisse:
It bids me to remember what I am,
To what place I must goe, and whence I came,
And with those thoughts, when as my mind is hye,
I am deiected through humility.
And this all Great men well remember may,
They are but Honourable clods of clay:
Or Reuerend Right Worshipfull graue dust,
And (whence they came) againe they thither [...]
I say, if foolish females, with faire features,
Would but remember they were mortal Cre [...],
And that as their good Grandams dy'd before,
Eu'n so must they, and must be seene no more,
And all their gawdy glory be forgot,
Whilst they shall lye, consume, and s [...]inke, and [...]ot:
If these things they would to remembrance call,
Their honyed pleasures would be mix'd with Gall,
And all and euery one their course would bend,
Within themselues, what is amisse to mend.
The memory, vnto the soule is food.
That thinks, & saies, & doth the thing that's good
I haue a heart doth like a Monarch raigne.
Who in any Microcosine doth lawes ordaine:
[Page 49] [...]ffections, Sences, Passions, Subiects, Slaues,
[...]ome like good Courtiers, some like flatt'ring knaues
With show of Vertue, hiding of their Vice,
They bring their Lord t'a foolish Paradise;
For when the heart thinkes swearing an abuse,
Then Anger saies it is a manly vse,
And when to quaffe, the minde hath no intent,
[...]ffection saies, 'tis honest merriment,
The minde calls Letchery abomination,
[...]ence saies, 'tis Gentleman like recreation,
The minde holds Couetousnesse worse then theft,
[...]ence calls it Husbandry, and frugall thrift,
Reason delights in liberality,
[...]ence counsels it to prodigality.
[...]nd thus these vassalls doe their King mislead,
[...] Whilst Reason seemes to be asleepe or dead.)
[...]nd thus this little Kingdome man doth fade,
With hearing Traytors, when they doe perswade.
[...] haue experience, by the which I finde,
[...]hat some, though poore in purse, are rich in minde:
[...]nd they that haue of wealth the greatest store,
[...]re, in content, most miserable poore:
There's many a Mammonist doth houses keepe,
With lofty Turrets, and with Sellers deepe;
With a most slately porch, and spacious hall
[...]nd kitchin, lesser then a Coblers stall,
[...]here (in two dayes) a poore halse racke of Mutton
[...]roclaimes the Master of the house no Glutton,
Where soule-bewitching gold in bondage is,
[...] As may the keepers be, in hells abisse.)
[...]here waking thoughts keepe still the mind opprest,
And frightfull dreames make rest, to be vnrest,
[...]nd whereas feares by night, and doubts by day
[...]riue happinesse, and sweet content away,
Much better their is my estate then theirs.
[...] haue content, and they the golden cares:
[...] can feed well at home, and soundly sleepe,
And what I haue, not care to lose or keepe.
[...] haue consideration, to perceiue
[...]hat's best for me to take, and what to leaue:
[...]hen I consider, pleasures past and gone,
[...]oth adde affliction, to affliction,
[...]hough he that's low can very hardly rise,
[...]et he that's high, oft falls to miseries
He that is downe, his feare's already past,
[...]hilst he that's vp, may haue a slippery cast,
[...] doe consider, that I oft did craue,
[...]hings both from God and men, vnfit to haue:
And many times, through inconsiderate wit,
Gifts, giuers and receiuers are vnfit.
He is a liberall man, that doth deny.
[...]hat which will doe the askers iniury;
[...]here is a bounty, which I will reueale,
That he ne'r giu's in vaine, that giu's in zéale:
As prodigality brings want and woes,
[...]o liberality makes friends of foes.
Tis better for a man his purse to hold.
Then giue, to make a begger proud, or bold.
True bounty is (on earth) a speciall grace,
And hath in heauen prepar'd a glorious place.
For as the Sunne vnto the moone giu's light.
Which light she giues againe to vs by night:
So God doth giue his gifts to lib'rall men.
Which they (to men that want) doe giue agen.
But he that giues, should strait forget it quite,
What they that take, in memory should write.
And I accept alike, great gifts, and small,
Onely to me the giuers mind is all.
Tis a base bounty when a man relieues
These prostituted Whores, or Knaues, or Thecues:
For still the Diuell is bountifull to those,
That vnto Vertue, are inueterate foes.
But many hold it for a generous part,
To giue a man that's drunke, theother quart:
And in a humor (to haue Drawers trouble)
Throw pottle Pots down stairs, to come vp double;
When strait vpon their knees, they all accord,
To drinke a health to some vnworthy Lord:
Some fusty Madam, or some carpet Knight,
'Till they can neither speake, or stand vpright.
Then being all abominable drunke,
A Gallant drinkes a health vnto his Punke:
The which withall Sir Reucrence strait they are
Inioynd to doe, vpon their knees, all bare.
If any dare deny to pledge the Drab,
He's in great danger of a mortall Stab:
For he accounts it worse then blasphe my,
That one should there his Mistris health deny,
Vntill at last, o'r charg'd with too much wine,
They wallow in their vomits, worse then swine.
Thus many a beastly rude Barbarran,
Gaines little of a lib'rall Gentleman.
A worthy spirit, a rare Noble sparke,
True bred, a merry Greeke, or man of marke.
A right mad Troian, a most ex'lent blade,
As bountifull a man as e'r God made.
Thus many an idle fellow gets a name
Of Bountifull, through deeds of sinne and shame.
Indeed he's liberall, that spends health and wealth,
And precious Time, in drinking others health:
If dropsie Drunkards falne to pouerty,
Should beg a Pension of his Maiesty,
And in their humble sutes would make it knowne,
How drinking of his healths, they lost their owne,
I thinke, his Highnesse iustly would reliene them,
And (for Rewards) to each a Halter giue them.
But is't not strange, that man so mad should be,
Idolatrous, bare-headed on his knee,
Bow and fall downe vnto an absent Whore,
As th'only Saint (or diuell) he doth adore?
But e'r he'l kneele vnto his God, to craue
For mercy, his infected soule to laue:
[Page 50]Before he'l beg Gods pardon for his crimes,
He sweares him o'r and o'ra hundred times,
And takes it for a Gentlemanlike grace,
To spit his venome' gainst his Makers face,
And with his Othes as false, as blacke is white,
God dam him, or renounce, or sinke him quite:
Refuse him (or if not refuse) forsake him,
And now & then sweares, Then the Diuel take him.
Thus he in ordinary talke affords,
'Mongst (truth & lies) more othes then other words;
These are the bounteous youths I care not for,
And these I haue a heart that doth abhor.
From a rich knaue of worshipfull degree,
I haue a minde to spare my cap and knee:
To a good man that's honest, poore and wise,
I haue a heart that my affection tyes.
Some sixteene times I on the Seas haue beene,
In Spaine and Germany both out and in,
At Cales, at Ostend, Prague, and many a where,
And yet I doe thanke God, Cham here, Cham here.
I haue a Wife which I was wont to prayse,
But that was in my yonger wooing dayes:
And though she's neither Shrew, nor Sheep (I vow
With Iustice) I cannot dispraise her now.
She hath an Instrument (that's euer strung,
To exercise my patience on) her tongue.
Put past all question, and beyond all doubt,
Shee'l ne'r infect my forehead with the Gout.
A married man (some say) has two dayes gladnesse,
And all his life else, is a lingring sadnesse;
The one dayes mirth is, when he first is married,
Th'other's, when his wife's to burying carried.
One I haue had, should I the other see,
It could not be a day of mirth to me.
For I (as many haue) when I did woo,
My selfe (in tying fast) did not vndoo:
But I haue by my long experience found,
I had beene vndone, had I not beene bound.
I haue my bonds of marriage long enioy'd,
And doe not wish my obligation voyd.
I haue a house where I doe eat and sleepe,
But bread, nonmeat, or drinke in it (I keepe.)
For many Lords, and great men keepe good meat,
But I spend mine, to make good fellowes eat.
And though no Turrets doe my house bedecke,
There one may breake his fast, before his necke.
I haue a trade, much like an Alchymist,
That oft-times by extraction, if I list,
With swearing labour at a woodden Oare,
I'l get the coyn'd refined siluer Ore.
Which I count better then the sharking tricks
Of cooz'ning Tradsemen, or rich Politicks,
Or any proud foole, ne's so proud or wise,
That doth my needfull honest trade despise.
I haue some troubles, by the which I know
How flattring friends doe ebbe, and foes doe flow:
Prosperity increaseth friendship much,
But aduerse Fortune tries them with the tutch,
By troubles and by crosses I gaine wit,
When daily pleasures doe diminish it.
Thus (by his pow'r that All-sufficient is)
I haue had time and pow'r to write all this:
And I haue hope that He the time will grant,
That I may tell of some things that I want.
The Motto of I haue is large and wide,
Which largely here, I could haue amplifide,
For I haue Ioy, and Loue, and Comforts here,
And I haue folly, sorrow, doubt and fcare;
I haue (in part) my fra [...]lty here reueal'd,
I haue some Vices which I haue conceal'd.
I haue done as I haue, then if I haue
But pleas'd my friends, I haue gain'd what I crane,
Yet my, I haue, as great is euery iot,
And as small too as any mans haue not.

Et Careo, I want.

STrange is the penance of my humble Muse,
That must tell what I want without excuse.
What man (without much torture) would confesse
His want, his beggery, and guiltinesse;
But that the World would thinke him to be mad,
Or that he very small discretion had?
Yet (at this time) it is my fatall lot,
To tell I want, what other men want not.
And therefore to declare my wants most plaine,
I want a bragging or a boasting vaine;
In words or writing, any wayes to frame,
To make my selfe seeme better then I am.
I want faire vertue to direct my course.
And stand against the shock of vices force;
And (of my selfe) I no way can resist,
'Gainst Hell, the World, the Flesh, or Antichrist:
For ought I know, I want a courage stout,
Afflictions and temptations to keepe out:
And I doe feare, should time of triall come,
My constancy would bide no Martyrdome.
But to helpe what I want, I want despaire,
And hope supplies my want in all my care:
And as I want that bold-fac'd impudence,
As may giue iust occasion of offence:
So doe I want base flatt'ry with my pen,
To sooth my selfe, or to taxe other men.
I doe want goodnesse, for I cleerely see,
All good I doe or say, is not from me.
And amongst all the benefits I craue,
Goodnesse I want, and goodnesse I would haue.
A man may seeme too iust, too full of wit,
But to be too good, neuer man was yet.
[Page 51]He that is great, is not made good thereby,
But he that's good, is great continually.
Thus great and good together's rare and scant,
Whilst I no greatnesse haue, all goodnesse want.
I doe want wit t'inuent, conceiue and write,
To moue my selfe or others to delight:
But what a good wit is, I partly know,
Which (as I can) I will define and show.
Wit is the off-spring of a working braine,
That will be lab'ring, though it be in vaine:
'Tis call'd the Mother wit, by which I finde,
She's of the bearing, breeding, femall-kinde.
And some haue of their mothers wit such store,
That in their fathers wisedome they are poore.
A good wit is a vertue that excells,
And is the house where vnderstanding dwells:
With whom the mind, and memory, and sence,
And reason, keepe continuall residence:
For why, if Reason chance to be away,
Wit (like a Colt) breaks loose and runnes astray.
There's many that haue got their wealth by wit:
But neuer wealth had power to purchase it.
Rich fooles, and witty beggers euery where,
Are the third part of Mankinde very neere,
And little friendship doth blind Fortune grant
To me; for wit and mony both, I want.
Yet for mine eares price I could vndertake
To buy as much as would a Lybell make:
Or I could haue as much, as fits these times
With worthlesse Iests, or beastly scurity Rimes:
To serue some Lord, and be a man of note,
Or weare a guarded vnregarded Coat.
Wit for a foole I thinke enough I haue;
But I want wit to play the crafty knaue:
And then the Prouerbe I should finely fit,
In playing of the foole, for want of wit.
To Archie (at the Court) I'l make a iaunt,
For he can teach me any thing I want,
And he will teach me for a slender fee,
A foolish knaue, or knauish foole to bee.
Garrt growes old and honest, and withall,
His skill in knauish fooling is but small:
The Knight o'th' Sunne can caper, dance and leape,
And make a man small sport exceeding cheape.
In the old' time, a wise man was a foole,
That had compar'd himselfe with great Otoole.
But his good dayes are past, he's downe the winde,
In both his eyes and vnderstanding blinde.
But holla, holla, Muse, come backe againe,
I was halfe ranisht with a fooling vaine:
And, if I had gone forward with full speed,
I'd plaid the foole for want of wit indeed.
As Frogs in muddy ditches vse to breed,
So there's a wit that doth from Wine proceed:
And some doe whet their wit so much thereon,
Till all the sharpenesse and the steele is gone;
With nothing left but back, the edge gone quite,
Like an old Cat, can neither scratch nor bite,
The wit I want, I haue, yet yeelds no profit,
Because a foole hath still the keeping of it.
Which had it in a Wisemans head beene planted,
I should not now want, what I long haue wanted;
I want that vndermining policy;
To purchase wealth with soule dishonesty:
And I doe want, and still shall want, I hope,
Such actions as may well deserue a Rope.
I want a mind, bad company to haunt,
Which if I doe, it seemes I foresight want,
I want a Kingdome, and a Crowne to weare,
And with that want, I want a world of care:
But might I be a King, I would refuse it,
Because I doe want wisedome how to vse it.
When an vnworthy man obtaines the same,
He's rais'd to high preferment for his shame:
For why, the office of a King is such,
And of such reuerence as I dare not tutch:
Like to the Thunder, is his voyce exprest,
His, Maiesty, as Lightniug from the East,
And though he want the art of making breath,
Hee's like a Demy-God, of life and death.
And as Kings (before God) are all but men,
So before men, they all are gods agen.
Hee's a good King, whose vertues are approu'd,
Fear'd for his Iustice, for his mercy loud:
Who patternes all his Royall dignity,
By the iust rule of Heauens high Maiesty.
Who can distribute (to good mens content)
Reward for vertue, vices punishment,
Who loues a poore mans goodnesse, and doth hate
All soule corruption in a man of State,
Combin'd in loue with Princes neere and farre,
Most affable in peace, powerfull in warre:
And aboue all, religious, full of zeale,
To guard the Church, & guide the Common-weale.
And though such Kings as this, haue seldome beene,
Yet such a King as this I oft haue seene.
And as I want a Regall power and fame,
I want Reuenues to maintaine the same:
I thinke a King that's made of * Ginger-bread,
His Subiects would obey him with more dread:
And any knaue that could but kisse his Claw,
And make a leg, would make me but Iack-Daw.
And as the Swallow all the Summer stayes,
And when the winter comes, he flyes his wayes:
So flatt'rers would adore my happinesse,
And take their flight, and leaue me in distresse,
To praise my vices, all the swarme of them
Would stocke, and all my vertues would condem.
Much worse then Rauens is their flattery,
For Rauens eate not menvntill they dye:
[Page 52]But so a flatt'ring knaue may get and thriue,
He daily will deuoure a man aliue.
Besides, the body onely feeds the Fowle:
But flattery oft consumes both body and soule.
For like to trencher-Flies they euer proue,
Who still wait more for lucre then for loue.
Thus, though I want a Kingly power Royall,
'Tis 'gainst my will, to want will to be loyall.
And if that any King aliue there bee
That willingly would change estates with mee,
I in my bargaine should haue gold for brasse,
And he would be accounted but an Asse.
For any Kings estate, be't ne'r so bad,
To change it with Iohn Taylor, were starke mad.
A King of Clubs keeps subiects in more awe:
For he commands his Knaue (except at Maw)
A King of Spades hath more wit in his pate,
To delue into the secrets of his state:
The King of Diamonds is too rich and wise,
To change his pleasures for my miseries.
And for the King of Hearts, he's so belou'd,
That to exchange with me, he'l ne'r be mou'd.
For I am full of feares and dangerous doubts,
And poorer farre then is a King of Clouts:
I therefore will a Subiect still remaine,
And learne to serue, that am vnsit to reigne.
I want ten millions of good coyned gold,
And with that want, want troubles manifold;
But if I had so much, what man can tell,
But that I should want grace to vse it well?
Within the walls and skirts of Treynonant,
Many that haue most goods, most goodnesse want:
For Charity and Riches seldome can
Haue both possession in a wealthy man.
Fooles that are rich with multitudes of Pieces,
Are like poore simple sheepe with golden fleeces:
A knaue, that for his wealth doth worship get,
Is like the Diuell that's a cock-horse set.
For money hath this nature in it still,
Slaue to the goodman, master to the ill.
The Couetons amidst his store is poore,
The minde content is rich and seekes no more.
Who couers most, hath least, who couets least,
Hath most; for why, sufficient is a feast.
Wealth vnto mischiefes might my mind inchant,
And therefore's is much good for me I want.
I want a Sonne and Heyre, and I perceiue,
That he no portion could from me receiue;
Vnlesse I could bequeath him Poetry,
To adde more pouerty to pouerty.
But as I doe want Children, I want care,
And iealousie, in which some Fathers are:
For many of them rake and toyle (Go [...] [...]ot)
To gather wealth for Heyres they ne'r begot:
And run to Hell (through mischiefes) greedily.
For other mens misgotten Bastardy.
The greatest females vnderneath the skye,
Are but fraile vessels of mortality:
And if that Grace and Vertue be away,
There's Honour's shame, and Chastitie's decay.
For, if inconstancy doth keepe the dore,
Lust enters, and my Lady prones a Whore:
And so a Bastard to the World may come,
Perhaps begotten by some stable Groome;
Whom the fork-headed, her cornuted Knight
May play and dandle with with great delight,
And thus by one base misbegotten sonne,
Gentility in a wrong line may run:
And thus soule lust to worship may prefer
The mungrell Issue of a Fruterer,
Or yeoman of the Bottles it may be:
Or some vnmannerd rascall worse then he,
And though the Stripling vp in yeeres doth grow,
He shall want wit his father how to know:
But he shall know one that will father him,
And with good bringing vp maintaine him trim:
And loues him with affection, as he were
His owne most nat'rall * Primogeniter.
The old Knight dyes and freely giues him all,
And he being growne a Gallant faire and tall,
If with his cursed wealth he purchase can,
To wed the Daughter of some Nobleman,
And being thus enaebled much thereby,
Through his Alliance with Nobility;
He may in time possesse an honour'd state,
Which God doth curse, and all good people hate:
Then shall be search'd, it possible it be,
Before Canis birth, to finde his Petigree:
Then is some famous coat of Armes contriu'd,
From many worthy families deriu'd.
And thus may Lust & Wealth rayse many a Clown,
To Reputation, and to high Renowne.
Thus many good men are deceiu'd (perhaps)
In bowing of their knees, and dossing Caps,
And courteously commit Idolatry,
To a proud branch of Lust and Letchery.
For my part, I want meanes to gull men so,
I may be gull'd with others goodly show.
If any finde my Children meate or cloth,
I got them in my sleepe, I'l take mine oth,
I cannot be deceiued in my Heyres,
As some that are my betters may in theirs,
And as no Bastards my free mind perplexe,
So I want Iealousies, which some men vexe.
Should thousands such as Hercules combine,
T'inspire with Iealousie this brest of mine,
Nor all the Goatish soule luxurious brood,
Could not possesse me with that frantike mood,
She that I haue, I know her continence,
And she as well doth know my confidence;
[Page 53]And yet, for ought you know, both she and I
May want both honesty and Iealousie:
Though of our selues our knowledge is but small;
Yet somewhat we doe know, and God knowes all.
The man whose wife will be a whore indeed,
His Iealousie stands but in little steed:
Nor can holts, locks, or walls of brasse suffice
Br [...] hundred hands, nor Arges eyes;
Not all the wit in man or Diuels pate,
Can alter any mans allotted fate:
For if a Woman be to lewdnesse giuen,
And is not guided with the grace of Heauen;
Shee will finde oportunity and time,
Inspight of watch or ward, to doe the Crime:
But if she be with heauenly blessings grac't,
As outward beautifull, and inward chaste;
Then may soule iealousie and false suspition,
Against her nature alter her condition,
From good to bad, from bad to naught, and worse,
And turne her vertues to a vicious course.
For nothing can an honest minde infect,
So soone as iealousie and false suspect;
And this soule Fury many times hath wrought,
To make the bad worse, and the good stark naught:
But neuer yet by it (as I could heare)
The good or bad, one iot the better were:
And therefore be my wife, or good, or ill,
I iealousie doe want, and want it will.
I want dissimulation to appeare,
A friend to those to whom I hatred beare:
I want the knowledge of the thriuing Art,
A holy outside, and a hollow heart:
Put as I am the, same I'l euer seeme,
Not worse, or better, in mine owne esteeme,
For what attire soe'r my corps doth hide,
Or whether I doe goe on foot or ride:
Or were I with the Kings high fauour grac'd,
Or at a great Lords boord, at dinner plac'd,
And should I haue all this, I were no more
But a poore Waterman, that at his Oare
Doth (for a liuing) labour, tug, and pull
And carries both the Gallant and the Gull.
How-euer others doe esteeme of me,
Yet as I am, I know my selfe to be.
If I doe chance to be in company,
Well welcom'd, amongst true Gentility,
I know, in them it is a courteous part,
And that me it can be no desert,
I want that high esteemed excellence
Of sustian or Mockado Eloquence,
To flourish o'r or bumbast out my stile,
To make such, as not vnder stand me, smile;
Yet i with Non-sence could contingerate,
With Catophiscoes Terragrophicate,
And make my selfe admir'd immediately,
Of such as vnderstand no more then I.
Besides, I want the knowledge and the skill,
How these my lines may pasle now well or ill:
For as a learned Poet lately writ
With a comparison, comparing fit
Mens writings and inuentions like to Cheese,
Which with some stomacks very well agrees:
Some loue it, and some cannot well disgest it,
Some eare not for it, and some quite derest it;
And so my lines to sundry hands may come,
Some pleasing, and displeasing vnto some:
One likes it well, and very well commends it,
A second sweares 'tis naught, and madly rends it,
A third cries mew, and serues his iawes awry,
And in a scornfull humour layes it by:
Thus some like all, some somwhat, & some nothing,
And one mans liking is anothers lothing.
I want hope to please all men where I come,
I want despaire, and hope I shall please some;
I want ingratitude to friends, I want
A willing mind, (what's written) to recant:
I want 'gainst any man peculiar spite,
I want a selfe-loue vnto what I write:
I want some friends that would my want supply,
I want some foes that would my patience try.
If all things that I want, I here should tell,
To a large volume then my booke would swell;
For though my selfe my wants doe boldly beare,
My wants of such great weight and number are,
That sure the burden of the things I want,
Would breake the backe of any Elephant.

Et Curo, I Care.

ICare to thinke vpon the Theame I write,
For Care is carefull, yeelding no delight:
And though Care flowes like a continuall streame,
Yet Care is but a very barren Theame.
Vpon I care was, my swift Muse could iog,
Like to an Irish Lackey o'r a bog;
But my poore wit must worke vpon I care,
Which is a subiect (like my wit) most bare.
I care to keepe my wife in that degree,
As that she alwayes might my equall be:
And I doe care, and at all times endeuer,
That she to haue the mastership shall neuer.
I Care, and so must all that mortall are;
For from our births, vnto out graues, our care
Attends on vs, in number like our sinnes,
And sticks vnto vs close, as doe our skins;
For the true Anagram of * Care is Race,
Which shewes, that whilst we on the earth haue place,
[Page 54]So many miseries doe vs insnare,
That all our life is but a Race of Care;
And when I call my life vnto account,
To such great numbers doe my Cares amount
That Cares on Cares my mind so much doe lade,
As i of (nothing else but) Cares were made.
When I conceiue I am besieged round
With enemies, that would my soule confound,
As is the Flesh, the World and ghostly Fiends,
How (sen'rally) their force and flatt'ry bends,
To driue me to presumption or despare,
Tauoid temptations I am full of care.
When (consider what my God hath done
For me, and how his grace I daily shun:
And how my sinnes (for ought I know) are more
Then Stars in sky, or Sands vpon the shore,
Or wither'd leaues that Autumne tumbles downe,
And that sinnes leprosie hath ouergrowne
My miserable selfe from head to heele,
Then hopefull feares, and fearefull cares I feele.
When I doe see a man that conscience makes
Of what he speakes, or doth, or vndertakes;
That neither will dissemble, lye, or sweare,
To haue the loue of such a man I care.
I care, when i doe see a Prodigall
(On whom a faire estate did lately fall)
When as is spent his credit and his chink,
And he quite wasted to a snusse, doth stink,
Who in the Spring, or Summer of his Pride,
Was worship'd, honor'd, almost deisi'd:
And (whilst the golden Angels did attend him)
What swarms of friends, and kindred did befriend him,
Perswading him, that giue, & spend & lend,
Were vertues which on Gentry doe depend?
When such a fellow falne to misery,
I see forsaken and in beggery,
Then for some worthy friends of mine I care,
That they by such examples would beware,
A foole is he who giues (himselfe t'impaire)
And wise is he who giues what he may spare:
But those that haue too much, and nothing giue,
Are slaues of Hell, and pitty 'tis they liue.
But as the prodigall doth vainely spend,
As thogh his ill sprung wel-spring, ne'r would end,
Yet in his pouerty he's better much,
Then a hard-hearted miserable Clutch,
Because the Prodigall lets mony flie,
That many people gaine and get thereby.
A Prodigall's a Common-wealths man still,
To haue his wealth all common, tis his will,
And when he wants, he wants what he hath not,
But misers want what they both haue, and got.
For though man from the teate hath weaned bin,
Yet still our infancy we all are in,
And frō our birth, till death our liues doth smother,
All men doe liue by sucking one another.
A King with Clemency and Royalty,
Doth sucke his Subiects loue and loyalty:
But as the Sea sucks in the Riuers goods,
And Riuers backe againe, sucke in the floods,
So good Kings, and true Subiects, alwayes proue
To suck from each, protection, feare, and loue.
All Clients whatsoe'r are Lawyers nurses,
And many times they doe sucke dry their purses:
But though the Lawyer seemes in wealth to swim,
Yet many great occasions doe sucke him.
The Prodigalls estate, like to a flux,
The Mercer, Draper, and the Silkman sucks:
The Taylor, Millainer, Dogs, Drabs and Dice,
Trey-trip, or Passage, or The most at thrice;
At Irish, Tick-tacke, Doublets, Draughts or Chesse,
He flings his money free with carelessenesse:
At Nouum Mumchāce, mischance, (chuse ye which)
At One and thirty, or at Poore and rich,
Russe, slam, Trump, noddy, whisk, hole, Sant, New­cut
Vnto the keeping of foure Knaues he'l put
His whole estate, at Loadum, or at Gleeke,
At Tickle-me quickly, he's a merry Greeke,
At Primesisto, Post and payre, Primero,
Maw, Whip-her-ginny, he's alib tall Hero;
At My-sow-pigg'd: and (Reader neuer doubt ye,
He's skill'd in all games, except) Looke about ye.
Bowles, shoue-groate, tennis, no game comes a mist,
His purse a nurse for any body is;
Caroches, Coaches, and Tobacconists,
All sorts of people freely from his fists,
His vaine expences daily sucke and soake,
And he himselfe sucks onely drinke and smoake:
And thus the Prodigall, himselfe alone,
Giues suck to thousands, and himselfe sucks none.
But for the miser, he is such an euill,
He sucks all, yet giues none sucke but the Deuill:
And both of them such cursed members are,
That to be neither of them both I care.
Thus young, old, all estates, men, maids, & wiues,
Doe sucke from one another, all their liues;
And we are neuer wean'd from sucking thus,
Vntill we dye, and then the wormes sucke vs.
I care when I want money, where to borrow,
And when I haue it, then begins new sorrow:
For the right Anagram of woe is owe.
And he's in woe that is in debt I know:
For as I car'd before to come in debt,
So being in, my care is out to get.
Thus being in or out, or out or in,
Where one care ends, another doth begin.
I care to keepe me from the Serieants mace,
Or from a barbrous Bayliffs rough embrace:
Or from a Marshals man that mercy lacks,
That liues a cursed life by poore mens wracks,
From Sericants that are Saracens by kinde,
From Bayliffs that are worse then Beares is minde:
[Page 55]And from a Marshals monsters trap or snare,
To keepe me from such knaues as those I care,
A Pander (Hostler-like) that walks a whore,
And for a fee, securely keeps the doore,
A Punck that will with any body doe,
And giue the pox in to the bargaine too:
A rotten stinking Bawd, that for her crimes,
Seewd in a sweat hath beene some fifteene times,
A Drunkard, that delights to curse and sweare,
To shun such company as those I care.
I care to please and serue my Masters will,
And he with care commands not what is ill.
I care to haue them hang'd that carelesse be,
Or false vnto so good a Lord as he.
I care for all Religions that are hurld
And scatter do'r the vniuersall world:
I care to keepe that which is sound and sure,
Which euer and for euer shall endure.
I care t'auoyd all Sects and errors foule,
That to confusion haue drawne many a soule.
For be a man, a Heathen, Turke or Iew,
With Care his miserable state I rue,
That he should haue sence, reason, life and lim,
Yet will not know That God that gaue them him,
And can a Christian thinke vpon these things,
But it his heart with care and pitty wrings;
That three parts of the world, the grace, doth shun
Of their Creator, and his sauing Sonne?
And as the Christians few in number be,
Yet how they in Religions disagree,
Kings subiects, parents, children much diuided,
By hell misguided, and by Turks derided,
And can a Christian thinke how these things are,
But that his heart must be possest with Care?
I would all Princes that doe Christ professe,
And hope through him for endlesse happinesse,
Their quarrels to each other to lay by,
And ioyne against the common Enemy,
Who like a tempest oftentimes hath come,
Aduancing Mahomet in Christendome.
If Christian Kings this way would all prepare.
For such a glorious warre as this I care.
And here (for mirths sake) some few lines are made
In the behalfe of me, and of my trade:
But honest Reader, be not angry tho
They looke * like verses I wrote long agoe,
But they by many men were neuer seene,
And therefore fit to publish them I weene.
I that in quiet in the dayes of yore,
Did get my liuing at the healthfull Oare.
And with content did liue, and sweat and row,
Where like the tyde, my purse did ebbe and flow,
My fare was good, I thanke my bounteous Fares,
And pleasure made me carelesse of my cares.
The watry Element most plentifull,
Supplide me daily with the Oare and Scull,
And what the water yeelded, I with mirth,
Did spend vpon the Element of earth,
Vntill at last a strange Poetique veine,
As strange a way possest my working braine:
It chanc'd one euening, on a Reedy banke,
The Muses sate together in a ranke:
Whilst in my boat I did by water wander,
Repeating lines of Hero and Leander,
The Triple three tooke great delight in that,
Call'd me a shore, and caus'd me sit and chat,
And in the end, when all our talke was done,
They gaue to me a draught of Helicon,
Which prou'd to me a blessing and a curse,
To fill my pate with verse, and empt my purse.
By their poore gift I haue experience found,
What's fit to be reprou'd, and what renownd:
And that a Waterman a member is,
Which neither King nor Common-wealth can misse,
Yet we could well misse some that are too bad,
If better in their roomes were to be had:
But though abundance of them I could spare,
Tis onely for the honest trade I care.
Some say we carry whores and theeues. Tis true,
I'l carry those that said so, for my due:
Our boats like hackney horses, euery day,
Will carry honest men and knaues, for pay:
We haue examples for it most diuine,
*The Sunne vpon both good and bad doth shine,
Vpon the dunghill and vpon the Rose:
Vpon Gods seruants and vpon his foes:
The wind, the raine, the earth, all creatures still,
Indifferently doe serue both good and ill.
All tradesmen sell their ware continually,
To whores, or knaues, or any that will buy.
They ne'r examine people what they are:
No more can we, when we transport a Fare.
Sappho a Poetresse, a Lady fam'd,
Did wed a Waterman was Phaon nam'd:
AEgypt Kings (with Oares) as histories doe show,
King Edgar to's Parliament did row.
And when the waters all the world o'r-ran,
Old Noab was the onely Waterman.
I care what quantity of this same stuffe
I write: I may doe much, or not enuffe:
To end it therefore I will haue a Care,
And shew the Watermans briese * Character.
First, though he be not of the female kinde,
Yet he's most like vnto a Whore, I finde:
For both, the more vnready that they be,
Both are most ready for their trade, we see:
The Watermen in shirts, and Whores in smocks,
Both ship and fall to worke, t'increase their stocks.
[Page 56]Besides, a Waterman is much ingratefull,
(And yet is his ingratitude not hatefull)
For vnder God) the Riuer * Thamesis,
His chiefest friend, and best maintainer is,
It feeds and fills him, giues him daily treasure,
And he (to crosse that Friend) takes pains with pleasure.
Mine own vnkindnes I haue oft exprest,
For when I crost it most, it pleas'd me best.
And as an Hypocrite speakes fairest when
He most deceiues, so we poore Watermen,
Goe backward when we doe goe forward still,
And forward, we goe backward with good will.
Thus looking one way, and another rowing,
With forward backward, backward forward going,
To get my liuing I haue thought it meet,
Much like a Weauer with both hand and feet,
Or like a Ropemaker, I in my trade
Haue many hundred times run retrograde;
But though the Ropemaker doe backward goe,
Yet is his worke before his face, we know;
And all the voyages I vndertake,
My businesse still hath bin behind my backe.
But (in a word) let things be as they are,
Those whom I carry, to land safe, Leare.
When I doe stand my labour to apply,
I neither vse to call, or yall, or cry,
Or thrust, or shoue, or rake, or hale, or pull
The Gentleman, or Gentleman-like Gull,
A mayd, a wife, a widdow, or a trull.
Be he the greatest swearer on the earth,
Or the most dang'rous theese the [...]e'r had birth,
Be he or they as bad, or worse, or worst,
Then any that of God or man are curst:
Yet (if it be their lots to be my sare)
To carry them and land them well I care.
For why? should I through carelesse negligence,
Drowne but a Rascall by improuidence,
In me it were an action most vntrue,
For robbing of the hangman of his due,
And be a veluet villaine ne'r so braue,
A siluer, silken, or a sattin slaue:
And that I know, and doe esteeme him so,
Yet with great care his Rogueship will I row,
Because I would not wrong the courteous Riuer,
With the base corps of such a wicked liuer;
I haue a care to looke about me round,
That he may liue and hang, and not be drownd.
I take great care how I might Cares auoyd,
And to that end I haue my Cares imployd;
For long agoe I doe remember that
There was a Prouerb, Care will kill a Cat.
And it is said, a Cat's a wondrous beast.
And that she hath in her nine liues at least,
And sure if any Cat this care could shun,
It was the famous Cat of Whittington,
For whom was giu'n a ship rich fraught with ware
And for a lucky Pusse like that, I care.
But if Care of such potent power be,
To kill nine liues, it may kill one in me;
And therefore it behoues me to beware,
That though I care not to be kild with care,
I care, and in my care take great delight,
(When by a Watch I doe passe late at night)
Such answers to the Constable to shape,
As by good words I may the Counter scape.

My serious Cares and Considerations.

TIs said, the age of man is seuenty yeeres,
If eighty, it is full of griese and Cares,
And if we of our time account should keepe,
How halfe our liues we doe consume in sleepe,
And for the waking halfe, account that too,
How little seruice to our God we doe:
For till seuen yeeres be past and gone away,
We are vncapable to doe or pray.
Our * Adolescency till our manly growth,
We waste in vanity and tricks of youth,
And as We trauell to our iournyes end,
The more we liue, the more we doe offend.
In sixty yeeres three thousand Sabbaths be,
Which are some eight yeeres in account we see:
But of those Sundayes let vs thinke agen.
How little seruice God hath had of men,
And to the holiest man it will appeare,
About one hundred houres in a yeere.
And so in threescore yeeres God hath not one,
Wherein his seruice we attend vpon.
And if that (lesse then one)t'account were brought,
How many a nap, and many a wauering thought,
And wandring fancies doe vs round beset,
(That many times the text we doe forget?)
Thinke but of this, and then the yeere before
Must be abated halfe, or some what more.
Thus many a Christian sixty yeeres hath trod
The earth, and not six months hath sem'd his God.
When we our liues vnequally thus share,
In thinking of it, I am full of care.
I care in all my actions so to liue,
That no occasion of offence I giue
To any man, with either pen or tongue,
In name, or same, or goods, to doe them wrong,
For he's the greatest murderer aliue,
That doth a man of his good name depriue
With base calumnious slanders and false liess
Tis the worst villany of villanies,
To blast a good mans name with scandals breath,
Makes his dishonor long furuiue his death:
[Page 57]For Infamie's a colour dyde in graine,
Which scarcebliuion can wash out againe.
As nothing's dearer then a mans good name,
So nothing wounds more deeper then desame,
Nature gaue man a paire of eares and eyes,
And but one tongue, which certainely implies,
That though our sight and hearing still is free,
[...] must we not speake all we heare or see,
Then he's a Viper that doth lyes, inuent,
To worke thereby anothers detriment:
Tis sinne to slander a notorious Knaue;
But sinne and shame a good man to depraue;
Thus good or bad, or whatsoe'r they are,
To doe to neither of them wrong, I care.
I care to get good Bookes, and I take heed,
And care what I doe either write or read:
Though some through ignorance; & some through spite,
[...] said that I can neither read nor write.
[...] though my lines no Scholership proclaime,
[...] I at learning haue a kind of ayme.
And I haue gatherd much good obseruations,
From many humane and diuine translations.
[...] was well entred (forty Winters since)
[...] farre as possum in my Accidence;
And reading but from possum to posset,
There I was mir'd, and could no further get:
Which when I thinke vpon (with mind deiected)
[...] care to thinke how learning I neglected.
The poet * Quid, (or Ouid if you will)
Being in English, much hath helpt my skill:
And Homer too, and Virgil I haue seene,
And reading them, I haue much better'd beene.
[...]frey of Bulloyne, well by Fairfax done,
[...] that much loue hath rightly wonne:
Did Chaucer, Sidney, Spencer, Daniel, Nash,
[...]dip'd my finger where they vs'd to wash.
As I haue read these Poets, I haue noted, *
Much good, which in my memory is quoted.
Of Histories I haue perusde some store,
As no man of my function hath done more.
The Golden legend, I did ouer tosse,
And found the Gold mixt with a deale of drosse.
[...] haue read Plutarchs Morals and his Liues,
And like a Bee, suckt Hony from those Hiues.
[...]sepbus of the Iewes Knowles of the Turks,
Marcus Aurelius, and G [...] works:
[...]yd Grimstane, Montaigne, and Suetonius
Agrippa, (whom some call Cornelius)
Graue [...] and C [...]bden, Purchas, Speed,
Did Monumentall [...] and Hollinshead:
And that sole Booke of Bookes, which God hath giuen,
The [...] Testanic [...]ts of heauen)
That I haue read, and I with care confesse,
My selfe unworthy of such happinesse.
And many more good Bookes I haue with care
Lookt on their goods, and neuer stole their ware:
For no booke to my hands could euer come,
If it were but the Treatise of Tom Thumb,
Or Scoggins Iests, or any simple play,
Or monstrous nowes came Trundling in my way:
All these, and ten times more, some good, some bad,
I haue from them much obseruation had.
And so with care and study I haue writ
These bookes, the issue of a barren wit.
The most of them are verse, but I suppose,
It is much ease to name them here in prose.
The names of many of the bookes that I haue written

First, the

Sculler.

Vpon Coriat three merry bookes, called

Odcombs complaint,
Coriats resurrection, and
Laugh and be fat.
The nipping or snipping of Abuses.
Two mad things against Fenor.
Taylors Vrania.
The marriage of the Princesse.
An Elegy on Prince Henry.
Two bookes of all the Kings of England.
Three weekes, three dayes, and three houres obser­uations in Germany.
Trauels to Scotland.
Trauels to Prague in Bohemia.
An Englishmans loue to Bohemia.
The Bible in verse.
The Booke of Martyrs in verse.
The praise of Hempseed.
A kicksy winsy.
The great O Toole.
Iacke a Lent.
The praise of Beggery.
Taylors Goose.
Faire and soule weather.
The life and death of the Virgin Mary.
The Whip of Pride.
And lastly (since the reigne of th' Emperour * OTTO)
Was neuer seene the like of TAYLORS MOTTO.
All these and some which I haue quite forgot,
With care (as is aforesaid) I haue wrote.
I care how to conclude this carefull straine:
In care I care how to get out againe:
[Page 58]I care for food and lodging, fire and rayment,
And (what I owe) I care to make good payment.
But most of all I care, and will endeuer
To liue so carefull, that I may liue euer.
Thus without wronging any man a iot,
I shew I haue what euery man hath not [...]
My wants are such, that I forgiue them free,
That would but steale the most of them from me.
My cares are many, as I here expresse,
Poore couzin Germans vnto carelesnesse,
I haue a knowledge some men will read this,
I want the knowledge how their liking is.
I care in all that I herein haue pend,
To please the good, and shew the bad to mend.
And those that will not thus be satisfi'd,
I haue a spirit that doth them deride.
I flattry want, mens likings to obtaine,
I care to loue those that loue me againe.
Thus be mens iudgements steady or vnsteady
To like my Booke, the care is tane already.
The Prouerb sayes, that haste makes (often) waste,
Then what is waste, impute it to my haste:
This Booke was written (not that here I bosst)
Put houres together, in three dayes at most:
And giue me but my breakfast, I'l maintaine,
To write another e'r I eate againe,
But well or ill, or howsoe'r tis pend,
Lik't as you list, and so I make an
END.

ODCOMBS COMPLAINT OR, CORIATS FVNERALL EPICEDIVM: OR DEATH-SONG, VPON HIS late-reported drowning. With his Epitaph in the Barmuda, and Vtopian tongues: And translated into English by IOHN TAYLOR.

The Authour in his owne defence.

IF any where my lines doe fall out lame,
I made them so, in merriment and game:
For, be they wide, or side, or long, or short,
All's one to me, I writ them but in sport;
Yet I would haue the Reader thus much know,'
That when I list my simple skill to show
In poesie, I could both read and spell:
I know my Dactils, and my Spondees well;
My true proportion, and my equall measure,
What accent must be short, and what at leasure,
How to transpose my words from place to place,
To giue my poesie the greater grace,
Either in Pastorall or Comick straine,
In Tragedy, or any other vaine,
In nipping Satyrs, or in Epigrams,
In Odes, in Elegies, or Anagrams,
In eare-bewitching rare Hexameters,
Or in Iämbicke, or Pentameters:
I know these like a Sculler, not a Scholler,
And therefore Poet, pray asswage your choller,
If as a theese in writing you enuy me,
Before you iudge me, doe your worst and try me.

TO THE MIRROR OF TIME, THE MOST REFVLGENT, SPLENDIDIO VS REFLECTING COVRT Animal, Don Archibald Armstrong: Great M. Comptroller, Commander, and Countermander of mirth, alacrity, sport, and ridiculous confabulations, in this Septentrionall, [...] Westerne Monarchie of Magna Britania: Your poore and daily Orator, IOHN TAYLOR, wisheth increase of your wisdome, in your owne person, and that your eminence and spirit may be infused into the bosoms of most mens heires, that esteeme more of Wealth, then of Wisdome.

RIght worthy worthlesse Patron, the dayes and times being such, wherein wit goes a wooll-gathering in a thredbare Iacket, and folly is well reputed amongst those that seeme wise, I, conside­ring this, hauing but little wit, in a mad humour bade farewell it, and neuer so much as asked the question, Wit, whither wilt thou? Being certainly perswaded that playing the foole, will repaire the [...]reaches which my vnhappy wit hath made in the Bulwarke of my reputation (as it hath done to many others) wherefore good sir (with) reuerence, I hearing that so great a member in your esteemed quality, as M. Thomas Coriat of Odcomb, was drowned in his passage towards Constantinople; and knowing that many good and worthy writers haue graced his liuing trauels: So I haue made bold (vn­der your great Patronage) to write his tragicall supposed Death-song, or Funerall E­ [...]legie, not knowing any man of that worthy worth (besides your selfe) to whom I might dedicate these sad Epicediums. Thus, not doubting of your acceptance and protection, I commit my selfe and my labors to your wonderfull wisdomes cen­ [...]ure, alwaies hauing a poore Muse to trauell in your seruice.

Iohn Taylor.

TO THE GENTLEMEN READERS, THAT vnderstand A.B. from a Battledore.

No Sooner newes of Coriats death was com,
But with the same, my Muse was strookē dom:
[...] whilst he liued, he was my Muses subiect,
Her onely life, and sense sole pleasing obiect.
Odeōbian, Graecian, Latin, Great ThomAsse
He being dead, what life hath she alasse.
[...] yet I hope his death was false Report,
Or else 'twas rumord to beget some sport:
To try how his deare friends would take his death,
And what rare Epicediums they would make,
T' accompany his all-lamented Herse,
In hobling, iobling, rumbling, tumbling verse,
Some smooth, some harsh, some shorter & some long:
As sweet Melodious as Madge Howlets song:
But, when I saw that no man tooke in hand
To make the world his worth to vnderstand,
[Page 60]Then vp I bussled from Obliuions den,
And of a Ganders quill I made a pen,
With which I wrote this following worke of woe,
(Not caring much if he be dead or no [...])
For, whilst his body did containe a life,
The rarest wits were at continuall strife,
Who should exceed each other in his glory,
But none but I haue writ His Tragick story.
If he be dead, then farewell he: if not,
At his returne, his thankes shall be thy lot,
Meane time, my Muse doth like an humble Plea [...]
Intreat acceptance of the gentle Reader.
Remaining yours euer; IOHN TAYLOR.

A SAD, IOYFVLL, LAMENTA­BLE, DELIGHTFVLL, MERRY-GO­SORRY ELEGY OR FVNERALL POEM VPON the supposed death of the famous Cosmographicall Surueior, and Historiographicall Relator, M r THOMAS CORIAT of Odcomb.

O For a rope of Onions from Saint Omers,
And for the muse of golden tongued Homers,
That I might write and weepe, and weep and write,
Odcombian Coriats timelesse last good-night,
O were my wit inspir'd with Scoggins vaine,
Or that Will Summers ghost had seaz'd my braine:
Or Tarlton, Lanum, Singer, Kempe, and Pope,
Or she that danc'r and umbled on the rope,
Or Tilting Archy that so brauely ran
Against Don Pheb [...] knight, that wordy man.
O all you crue, in side pi'd coloured garments,
Assist me to the height of your preferments:
And with your wits and spirits inspire my pateful,
That I in Coriats praise be not ingratefull.
If euer age lamented losse of folly,
If euer man had cause of Melancholly,
Then now's the time to waile his ruthlesse wracke,
And weepe in teares of Clares and of Sack,
ANd now, according to my weake inuention,
His wondrous worthles worthines I'l mention;
Yet to describe him as he is, or was,
The wit of Men or monsters would surpasse.
His head was a large poudring tub of phrases,
Whēce men would pick delites, as boys pick daises,
O head no head, but blockhouse of fierce wars,
Where wit and earning were at daily lars,
Who should possesse the Mansion of his pate:
But at the last, to end this great debate:
Admired learning tooke his heads possession,
And turnd his wit a wandring in progression.
But Miny on Muse, hold, whither wilt thou goe?
Thinkst thou his rare anatomy to shew?
None borne a Christian, Turke, nor yet in Tartary,
Can write each veyne, each sinew, and each artery.
His eyes and eares like Broakers by extortion,
Ingrost strange forraine manners and proportion.
But what his eyes and eares did see or heare,
His tongue or pen discharg'd the reckoning cleare.
That sure I thinke, he well could proue by law,
He vttered more then e'r he heard or saw.
His tongue and hands haue truly paid their score,
And freely spent what they receiu'd and more.
But lord to see, how farre o'r-shot am I,
To wade thus deepe in his Anatomy!
What now he is, I'l lightly ouerpasse,
I'l onely write in part, but what he was:
That as Grim Death our pleasures thus hath crost,
Tis good, because he's gon, to know what's lost.
HEe was the Imp, whilst he on earth suruiu'd,
From whom this west-worlds pastimes were deriu'd,
He was in City, Country, field, & Court,
The Well of dry braind lests, and Pump of sport.
[Page 61]He was the treasure-house of wrinckled laughter,
Where melancholly moods are put to slaughter:
And in a word, he was a man 'mongst many,
That neuer yet was paralleld by any:
Who now like him in spite of wind and weather
Will weare one shiftlesse shirt 5. months together?
Who now to doe his natiue country grace,
Will for a Trophee execute his case?
Who now will take the height of euery Gallowes?
Or who'l describe the signe of euery Alchou [...]e?
Whether his Host were bigge, or short, or tall,
And whether he did knock e'r he did call:
The colour of his Host and Hostesse haire?
What he bought cheap, & what he paid for deare?
For Veale or Mutton what he paid a ioynt?
Where he sate down? and where he loos'd a poynt?
Each Tower, each Turret, and each lofty steeple,
Who now (like him) wil tel the vulgar people?
Who now will set a worke so many writers,
As he hath done in spite of his back-biters,
With Panegericks, Anagrams, Acrosticks,
[...]emblazon him the chiefe among fantasticks?
[...]las, not one, not one aliue doth liue,
That to the world can such content [...] ent giue,
Should Poets stretch their Muses on the racke,
And study till their pericranions cracke.
Should foot-back trotting Trauellers intend
To match his trauels, all were to no end.
Let Poets write their best, and trotters run,
They ne'r shall write nor run as he hath done.
BVt Neptune and great AEdus contending,
Gainst one another all their forces bending,
Which of them soon'st should rob the happy earth
Of this rare man of men, this map of mirth.
And like two enuious great ambitious Lords,
They fell at deepe and dangerous discords;
The sea-god with his three-tin'd angry Rod com,
And swore by Styx, he would haue Tom of Odcomb.
With that, sterne Eole blew a boystrous blast,
And in his rage did gusts and tempests cast
[...]n showring vollyes at fierce Neptunes head:
Who like a valiant Champion scorning dread,
[...]ne blow for blow with his commanding Mace,
And spitting stormes in spitefull Eols face,
That golden Titan hid his glistring ray.
As fearing to behold this horrid fray.
[...] darknesse curtain'dall the world,
[...]a Ebon Mantle o'r the Globe was hurld,
The wallowing waues turmoild the restless ships,
Like School-boies shuttlecocks that leaps & skips,
The Top-mast seemes to play with Phoebus nose,
[...]trait downe toward Erebus, amaine she goes;
[...]ow wind, quoth Neptune, till thy entrails breake,
Against my force, thy force shall be too weake.
Then like two sooles at variance for a trisle,
They split the ship, they enter and they risle,
Like cursed Law-wormes, enuious and cruell,
Striuing to seaze the peerelesse matchlesse Iewell,
Whilst Eole sought aboue the skies to crown him;
Blue-bearded Neptune in his arms did drown him.
The Wind-god sees the prize and battell lost,
Blowes, stormes, and rages to be curb'd and crost;
And vow'd to rowze great Neptune in his Court,
And in his teeth his iniury retort:
Then he commands retreat to all his forces;
Who riding sundry waies on winged horses,
Bigge Boreas to the freezing North went puffing,
And slauering Auster, to the South went husling,
Eurus went East, and Zephyrus went West,
And thus the warres of windes and seas did rest.
ANd now dame Thetis in thy vasty womb,
Is odde Odcombians Coriats timelesse Toomb,
Where Nayads, Dryads, and sweet sea-nimphs tend him,
And with their daily seruice do befriend him,
There al-shap'd Protens and shrill trumping Triton,
And many more, which I can hardly write on,
As if it, were the thing they glory at,
In seruile troopes [...] they wait on Coriat,
That though like hell, the sea were far more dark, as
Yet these would guard his vnregarded carkasle.
You Academick, Latine, Greeke Magisters,
You off-springs of the three times treble [...] Sisters,
Write, study, teach, vntil your toūgs haue blisters.
For, now the Haddocks, and the shifting Sharks,
That feed on Coriat, will become great Clarks:
The wri-mouth'd Place, & mumping Whiting-mops,
Wil in their mawes keep Greeke and Latine shops,
The Pork-like Porpose, Thorn-back, and the State,
Like studious Grecian Latinists will prate,
And men with eating them, by inspiration,
With these two toūgs, shall fill each barbarous Nation.
Then though the Sea hath rudely him berest vs;
Yet, midst our woes, this onely comfort's left vs,
That our posterities by eating fishes,
Shall pick his wisdome out of diuers dishes;
And then (no doubt) but thousands more will be
As learned, or perhaps all as wise-men as he:
But to conclude, affection makes me cry,
Sorrow prouokes me sleep, griefe dries mine eye.

EPITAPH in the Barmooda tongue, which must be pronounced with the accent of the grunting of a hogge.

HOugh gruntough we [...]gh I homough
Cori [...] tough Odcough robunguogh
[Page 62] Warawogh hogh Co [...]togh s [...]gh wogh t [...]rmonatogrogh,
Callimogh gogh whohogh Rag [...] mogh demagorgogh palemogh,
Lomerogh nogh Tattertogh illv [...] mortogh [...]gh Allaque [...]quogh.
Toracominogh Iagogh Ia [...]erogh mogh Carmogh pelepsogh,
Animogh trogh deradrogh maramogh hogh Flondrogh caleps [...]gh.

Epitaph in the Vtopian tongue.

NOrtumblum callimūquash [...]mystoliton quasb [...] burashte [...]
Scribuke [...]os [...]tay solusbay per ambulatushte:
Grekay sons Turkay Paphay [...] Ierusalushte [...]
Neptus esht Ealors Interremoy di [...] Delorushte;
Confabuloy Odioumbay [...]
Omul [...]shte paraleseus tolition umbroy.

The same in English, translated by Caleb Quishquash, an Vtopian borne, and principall Secretary to the great Adelentado of Barmoodoes.

HEre lies the wonder of the English Nation,
Inuoln'd in Neptunes brinish valty maw:
For fruitlesse trauell, and for strange relation,
He past and repast all that e'r eye saw.
Odcomb produc'd him; many Nations fed him,
And worlds of Writers, through the world h [...]e spred him.
FINIS.

CERTAINE SONNETS, IN PRAISE OF M r. THOMAS THE DECEASED; FASHIONED OF diuers stuffs, as mockado, fustian, stand-further off, and Motly, all which the Author dedicates to the immortall memory of the famous Odcombian traueller.

COnglomerating Aiax, in a fogge
Constulted with Ixion for a tripe,
At which Gargantua tooke an Irish bogge,
And with the same gaue Sifipbus a stripe,
That all the bumbast forrests 'gan to swell,
With Triple treble trouble and with ioy,
That Lucifer kept holiday in hell,
Cause Cupid would no more be cald a boy.
Delucitating Flora's painted hide,
Redeemes Arion from the hungry Wolfe,
And with conglutinating haughty pride,
Threw Pander in the damb'd Venetian gulfe,
The Mediterrane mountaines laught and smil'd,
And Libra wandred in the woods so wild.
Bright Cassia Fistula was wondrous sad,
To heare Zarzaparillas great mis-hap,
And Coloquintida was raging mad,
When Saxafrage was set in Rubarbs lap;
Dame Lickorish was in a monstrous fume,
Against the Iushious Reasons of the sunne,
And Trinidad smoake auoids the roome,
Whil'st Gm [...] sweares she is vndone;
Vuguentum album is so pale and wan,
That Paracelsus plaister mournes in black [...]
The Spanish Eliborus strongly can
Make Lignuin vita's hide with neezing crack:
Lo, thus with vnguents, plaisters, oyles, and drugges,
We coniure vp the fierce infernall bugges.
The head strong Torchlight of Cimerian waues,
With fiery frozen wonder leaps and vaults:
And on th' Altantick Ocean cuts and shaues,
Whilst thunder thwacking, Ossalimps and hales,
Robustious AEtna drownes the Artick Pole,
And forked Vulcan hath forsooke his forge,
Apollo'es piebald mare hath cast her fole,
And Mulley Mahomet hath fild his gorge.
Don Belzebub sits fleaing of his breech,
And Marble Proteus, dances, leaps and skips,
Belerophon hath pend an excellent speech,
And big-boand Boreas kist Auroraes lips;
The Welkin rumbles; Argos lies asleepe.
And Tantalus hath slaine a flocke of sheepe.
When flounder-flapping Termagant was slaine,
The sn [...]g [...]-fac'd Cerberus did howle and yell,
And Polyphe [...] rid in Charles his Waine,
Whilst Gergous head rung great Alcides knell,
The rip-rap-riffe-raffe, thwick thwack stout Baboo [...]
Gripes in his downy clotoh the spungy Oake,
And young Andromeda at night rings noone,
Whilst Asdrubal at tick tack lost his cloake.
Pr [...]erbus couering the Vmbranoes head,
And Ty [...]bon tumbles through the solid Ayre:
Proud Pegasus on Cheese and Garlick fed,
And Proserpina went to Sturbidge faire.
Pope Hildebr and bade Pluto home to supper,
And D [...] Di [...]oes horse hath broke his crupper.
Dick Swash drew out his three-pil'd blunted blade,
And flas [...]t in twaine the equinoctiall line:
T [...] Thum [...] did through th' Arabian deserts wade,
Where Caster and his brother Pollux shine,
The threed-bare slap-Iacks of the westerne Iles,
Exasperate the Marble Sithian Snow,
Dame Ve [...] traueld fifty thousand miles,
To see the bounds of Nilus ebbe and flow.
The Gormundizing Quagmires of the East,
In [...]rgitate the Eremanthean Bull:
And rude rebounding Sagitarious Ceast
To pipe Leualtoes to Gonzagaes Trull,
The Adriaricke Dolcats fate carousing,
And hidebound Gogmagog his shirt was lowsing,
Sweet Semi-circled Cynthia plaid at maw,
The whilst Endimion ran the wild-goose chase,
Great Bacchus with his Cros-bow kild a daw,
And sullen Saturne smil'd with pleasant face.
The nine-fold Bugbeares of the Caspian lake,
Sate whistling Ebon horne-pipes to their Ducks,
Madge-howlet straight for ioy her Girdle brake,
And rugged Satyrs friskd like Stagges and Bucks.
The vntam'd tumbling fifteene footed Goat,
With promulgation of the Lesbian shores,
Confronted Hydra in a sculler Boat,
At which the mighty mountaine Taurus rores,
Meane time great Sultan Soliman was borne,
And Atlas blew his rustick rumbling horne.

IF there be any Gentlemen, or others that are desirous to be practitioners in the Bar­moodo and Vtopian tongues: the Professor (be­ing the Authour hereof) dwelleth at the Old Swanne neere London Bridge, who will teach them (that are willing) to learne, with a gility and facility.

FINIS.

THE EIGHTH VVONDER OF THE VVORLD: OR, CORIATS ESCAPE FROM HIS SVPPOSED DROWNING.

DEDICATED

To the Mighty, Magnificent, Potent, and Powerfull Knight, Sir Thomas Parsons, ( alias) Pheander, ( alias,) Knight of the Sunne, Great Champion to Apollo, Palatine of Phoebus, Sword-hearer to Sol, Tilter, to Tytan, Housekeeper to Hyperion, and heire apparant to the inuisible kingdome of the Fairies: your deuoted Votary, IOHN TAYLOR, wisheth your Worshits wisdomes Longi­tude, Latitude, Altitude, and Crassitude may increase aboue the Ri­diculous multitude of the most eminent Stultorums of this latter age.

To thee braue knight, who from the Delphia god come
[...] cōsecrate these famous Acts of Odcomb:
To thee alone, and vnto none but thee,
For Patronage my toyling Muse doth flee,
[Page 60]I gaue my drowning Coriat vnto Archy,
And with his faire escape to thee now march I,
Not doubting but thou wilt in kindnesse take
These lines thus writ, for his, and thy deare sake.
If thou in kindnesse wilt accept this taske,
Hereafter I will better things vn-caske,
And make the world thy worth to glory at,
In greater measure then at Coriat.
I'l mount thee vp in verse past Charles his Wain,
I'l make the Moone Endimion to disdaine,
I'l write in euer-during lines thy fame,
As farre as Phoebus spreads his glorious flame.
I'l make thee plucke sterne Saturne by the Chaps,
And braue great Ioue amids his thunder-clappes.
I'l cause thy praise t'eclipse the god of Armes,
I'l make Dame Venus yeeld to loues alarmes.
The nimble Mercury shall be thy foot-man,
If thou wilt grace my lines, therfore looke too [...] ma [...]
But if to patronize me thou dost scorne,
'Twere better then, thou neuer hadst beene borne:
For 'gainst difdaine my Muses onely sport is,
To write with Gall, commixt with Aqua-fortis:
And Vineger, and Salt, and Sublimatum,
Which where it falls, wil scortch & scald: probatu [...],
Then as thou lou'st the Fairy Queene thine, Aunt,
Daine to vouchsafe this poore and triuiall grannt:
Then I thy Poet will with low Subiection,
Proceed to write Tom Coriats Resurrection.
Yours euer, whose endeauoir shall perseuer in your seruice, IOHN TAYLOR.

To the knowing Reader.

NOw sir, it is a common customary vse in these times, to salute you with somewhat; as Honest, Kinde, Courteous, Louing, Friendly, or Gentle; but all these Epithites are ouer-worne, and doe, as it were, stinke of the fusty garbe of Antiquity. Besides, if I should come vpon you with any of these claw-backe tearmes, I might chance to belye you. But if your kinde disposition doth merit to bee called kinde, I pray let me finde it in your fauourable censure. Some will (perhaps) dislike, that I doe dedicate my bookes to Archy, and Sir Thomas, and such like. To them I answere, that my subiect being altogether foolish, I were very absurd to thinke that any wise man would be my Patron. And it were meere follie for mee to make a hotch-potch, in seeking to compound wisedome and follie together. But how, soeuer thou esteemest it, it thrusts it selfe into thy view; wherein (if thou beest not too much drowned in Melancholie) thou wilt shew thy teeth (if thou hast any) with laughing. And as [...] lines are somewhat defectiue in their shape, so I pray thee doe not hacke them, nor hew them with thy stammering, to make them worse, nor. Buzzard-blast them with thy [...]alumniating mewes, rushes, and scuruies. Thus leauing thee to thy selfe, and my selfe vnto thee, I remaine thine as thou respect'st me,

IOHN TAYLOR.

The cause of the contention betwixt sir Thomas the Scholer, and Iohn the Sculler.

A Pamphlet printed was, The Sculler nam'd,
Wherein Sir Thomas much my writing blam'd;
Because in Epigram therin was written,
In which he said, he was nipt, gald and bitten.
He frets, he fun [...], he rages and exclaimes,
And vowes to rouze me from the Riuer Thames.
Well, I to make him some amends for that,
Did write a Booke was cald, Laugh and be fat:
In which he said I wrong'd him ten times more,
And made him madder then he was before.
Then did he storme, and chase, and sweare, and ban,
And so superiour powers amaine he ran,
Where he obtained Laugh and be fat's confusion,
Who all were burnt, and made a hot conclusion.
Then after that, when rumour had him drownd,
(The newes whereof, my vexed Muse did wound)
I writ a letter to th [...] Elizian coast,
T' appease his angry wrong-incensed Ghost.
The which my poore inuention then did call,
Odcombs Complaint, or Coriats Funerall.
But since true newes is come, he scap'd that danger,
And through hot Sun-burnt Asia is a ranger:
His raising from the dead I thought to write,
To please my selfe, and giue my friends delight.

The VVorlds eighth VVonder: OR, CORIATS REVIVING.

LOI the man whose Muse did lately forage,
Through winds & seas with dreadlesse dantlesse corage,
And to the life, in hodg-podg rime exprest,
How Odcomb [...] Cor [...]as was great Neptunes ghest.
How Th [...] sweedy full'd him in her lappe,
And (as her darling) fed the Barne with pappe.
How big mouth'd AEol storm'd, and pust, and blew:
And how both winds and Sea with all their crue
Were pleas'd and displeas'd, tumbled, rag'd, and tost,
The Gainers glad, and mad were they that lost.
These tedious taskes my toyling Muse hath run,
And what she did, for Coriats sake was dun.
Shee hath transported him to Bossems Inne,
Where in a Basket he hath hanged bin:
Shee hath inuolu'd him in the hungry deepe,
In hope to leaue him in eternall sleepe:
Yet hauing hang'd him first, and after drown'd him,
My poore laborious Muse againe hath found him.
For 'tis her duty still to wait and serue him,
Although the Fates should hang, or drown, or sterue him,
The fatall Sisters serue his turne so pat,
That sure he hath more liues then hath a Cat.
Alcides neuer past so many dangers
As he hath done, amongst his friends, and strangers.
He runs through all his actions with such ease,
As Hogs eate Acorns, or as Pidgeons Pease,
There's nothing in the world can him disgrace,
Not being beaten in a lowzy case:
Nor Trunks, nor Puncks, nor stocks, nor mocks, nor moes,
Nor being made an Asse in Rime and Prose:
Nor hanging, drowning, carting nor the blanket.
These honours all are his, the gods be thanked.
BVt now me-thinkes, some curious itching care
Doth long some sportiue newes of him to heare.
[Page 62]For being in the Ocean buried vnder,
And now aliue againe, 'tis more then wonder:
But how these wondrous wooders came to passe,
I (as I can) will tell you how it was.
VVHen first this mirrour 'mongst a world of Nations,
(This great ingroser of strange obseruations)
Was bound for Constantines braue noble City,
Then he (who is Wit, all, or else all witty)
Whose vigilancy lets no aduantage slip,
Embarked was in a tall proued Ship
Of London, the Samaritan she hight:
Now note the fore cast of this famous wight:
The Ship he onely for her name did chuse,
In detestation of the faithlesse Iewes:
For why, the Iewes and the Samaritans
Did hate as Christians, Anti-Christians.
Yet I suppose his spight to them did spring.
For I thinke what, and now I'l name the thing:
In his first fiue months strange perambulation,
He was in danger of that peruerse Nation.
For they by wrongfull force would haue surpriz'd him,
T'excoriat Coriat, and [...]haue Circumciz'd him.
This dreadfull terrour of his Lady-ware,
I ge [...]se the cause the Iewes he hatred bare.
How [...]er was his intricate intent,
In the Samaritan to Sea he went:
And care-abusing false intelligence
Said, he was drown'd in Neptunes residence.
Thus false report did make me much mistake:
For which, a faire recanting mends I'l make.
My grieued Muse hath euer since his drowning,
Beene vext with sorrow, and continuall swowning:
But now she's all attir'd with mirth and gladnesse,
The Lye was good that made her sick with sadnesse.
KNow therefore, Readers, whatsoe'r you are:
That this great Britaine braue Odcombyan star,
Was tost on Neptunes rough re [...]n or celesse wa [...]es,
Where each man look'd for timelesse brinish granes:
For Eolus vnlock'd his vaulted Center,
And 'gainst the Sea-god did in Armes aduenter,
With winds vniayled came at vnawares,
And greene-fac'd Neptune with defiance dares,
With all his warry Regiments to fight,
Or yeeld this matchles, worthles, wondrous knight.
The great humidious Monarch tells him plaine,
'Twere best he iogd from his commanding Maine:
And with his troupes of homelesse, rouing slane [...]
Goe hide him in the earths imprison'd Canes,
And not disturbe him in his Regall Thr [...]e,
For be would keepe Tom Coriat, or else none.
Then Eol 'gan his windy wrath to vent,
And swore by Styn, that Neptune should repent
This hauty high audacious insolence,
Against his powerfull great magnificence.
Then Triton founded, the alarme was giuen,
That from hells bottome, to the skirts of heauen,
The repercussiue ecchoes of his founding,
With dreadfull relapse backe againe redounding.
Then, then Robustious swolne cheek'd Boreas blasts,
Teare, riue, and shiuer Tacklins, Sailes, and Masts:
In totter'd fragments all in pieces shatter'd,
Which here and there confusedly lay scatter'd.
These hurly burly stormes and tempests tumbling,
With dire amazing Thunder-thumping rumbling,
The mounting billowes, like great mountaines [...],
As if they meant to drowne the losty skies.
Then downe they fall to the Tartarian deepe,
As if th' infernall Fiends they meant to steepe:
That sure (I gesse) a greater gust was neuer,
Since Iun [...] did AEnea's ruine endeauour.
The Kingly Sea-god (to anoyd more harmes)
Caught Coriat (the cause of these Alarmes)
And so his boystrons windy foe depriu'd,
And home thorow worlds of flouds a main he dim'd.
But awefull loue to his Imperiall spheare,
These grieuous garboyles chanced for to heare:
And to his brother Neptune downe he sends
The wing-heel'd Mercury, with these commends:
To thee, thou watry great commanding Keasar,
I come from heauens Maiesticke mighty Casar;
Commanding thee by thy fraternall loue,
That from thy Coasts thou presently remoue
The man thou lately look'st, the worlds sole woder,
Or else he'l rouze thee with distracting Thunder:
And therefore, as Iones friendship thou dost tender,
To safe arriuall see thou dost him render:
Whilst May'es sonne his message thus did tell,
A fury, like a Post-knight, came from hell:
And from th' inf [...]nall King of blacke Anernu [...],
These words he vtter'd (which doe much concern vs
From Acherouticke, Phlegetonticke waues,
Thy brother Plato thus much friendship craues:
Thou wilt send Coriat downe with him to [...]igne,
And he'l send thee as good a thing againe.
For Proserpina his illustrious Pheare,
Of him, and his aduentures chanc'd to heare:
Because a Gentleman-vsher the doth want,
To haue him, Pluto begs thy friendly grant.
The Marine Monarch answers, thus it is:
You N [...]ti [...] from our brothren Ione, and D [...],
Know, such a mortall is within my power,
Imprison'd close, in Thetis siluer Bower,
I did surprize him midst a thousand toyles
Of warres, of iarres, of bloody banefull broyles:
My high-borne brother Ioue hath hither sent,
Commanding me that I incontinent
Doe safely set this new-found man aland. [...]
And I from Pluto further vnderstand,
[Page 67]That he would haue him to Cocitus Coast,
Where he and Cores daughter rules the roast.
First therefore I in wisedome hold it best,
To yeeld vnto the mighty loues request:
And on the Grecian coast I'l safely place him,
Where he may wāder where his fortunes trace him.
Thes [...] messengers thus answer'd, were dismist,
And Neptune did to land his guest persist:
[...] now all hell was in an expectation
For Coriats comming, making preparation,
The Stigian Ferri-man on Stixes shore,
Did wait with diligence to wast him o'r,
And hels three headed Porter sweetly sung
For ioy, that all the Coastes of Limbo rung
With howling Musickes, dambe despightfull notes,
From out his triple Chaps, and treble throats.
[...] from the tortring wheele was eas'd,
And pining Tantall was with iunkets pleas'd:
And further, 'twas commanded, and decreed,
The Gripe no more on Titius guts should feed.
The nine and forty wenches, water silling,
In tubs vnbottom'd, which was euer spilling:
They all had leaue to leaue their endlesse toyles,
To dance, sing, sport, and to keepe reuell coyles.
Three forked Hecate to mirth was prone,
And Si [...]phus gaue o'r the restlesse stone.
All in conclusion, had free leaue to play,
And for Tom Coriats sake make holiday.
Thus all blacke Barathrum is fill'd with games,
With lasting bone-fires, casting sulphur-flames.
In Vse'rers skuls the molten gold they quaffe,
And skink, and drink, and wink, and stink, and lasse.
But when the Post was come and told his Tale,
Then all this sport was turn'd to banefull bale.
Grim Pluto storm'd, and Proserpina mournd,
And tortur'd Ghosts, to torments were returnd.
The Sea god (carefull of great Iones high hest)
To great Constantinople brought his guest:
Where (nothing that may honour him omitting)
His entertainement to his state was fitting:
There in all pleasure he himselfe disports,
Conuersing daily with such braue consorts,
As Turkes, and Tartars, Englishmen and Greekes,
That he thinkes ages yeeres, and yeeres but weekes,
That's wasted in this rare time stealing chat.
All his delight's in nothing else but that.
But his high honour further to relate,
I'l sing the new aduancement of his state.
Some English Gentlemen with him consulted,
And he as nat'rally with them constulted:
Where they perceiuing his deserts were great,
They striu'd to mount him into honours seat:
And being found of an vnmatched spright,
He there, was double dub'd a doughty Knight.
Rise vp, sir Thomas, worship'd mayst thoube
Of people all (that are as wise as thee.)
Now rap't with ioy, my Muse must needs record,
How he was knighted with a royall sword:
But into what a puzzell now got I am?
They say it was the Bilbo of King Priam,
The fatall blade which he in fury drew,
When in reuenge the Mirmidons he flew.
Im pell mel vengeance for great Hectors bane,
Who by Achillis faire foule-play was slaine.
That sword that mow'd the Grecians like a sithe:
That sword that made victorious Troyans blithe:
That sword, that through so many dangers rub'd,
That famous sword hath Monsier Coriat dub'd.
What though 'twas rusty? spight of cankerd rust,
The memory of honour liues in dust,
'Twas no disgrace it was so rusty shap'd,
It had (like Coriat) many a scowring scap'd.
BVt 'mongst the rest, this must not be forgot,
How he did from Constantinople trot,
And how a solemne counsell there decreed,
That he should trauell in a Grecian weede.
To this (for his owne safety) they doe woo him,
Because the language is so nat'rall to him.
And then bespake a sober sage wise fellow,
(When wine had made them all in general mellow)
Take heed, quoth he, I counsell you, beware
That of your selfe you haue a speciall care,
You be not taken for a French-man, for
The Turks in these parts doe the French abhor.
Since Godsries times, that braue bold Bullen Duke,
Who put them all to shame, and rough rebuke,
And made the Sarasins by Millions bleed,
And holy Toombe, from faithlesse fiends he freed.
Wherefore (quoth he) in friendship I aduise you
T'auoid suspect, 'twere best we Circumcise you:
And then you freely may through perils passe,
Despight the Turks, so like a Grecian Asse.
Noman with Linxes eyes will deeme you other,
And thus you safely may suspition smother.
Sir Thomas gaue this fellowes speech the hearing,
But told him 'twas too heauy for his bearing:
For why, fall backe, fall edge, come good, come ill,
He vow'd to keepe his fore-mans fore-skin still.
This resolution was no sooner spoken,
The friendly counsell was dismist and broken.
Where after leaue was tane twixt him and them,
He tooke his iourny toward Ierusalem:
And what he can obserue 'twixt morne and night,
With due obseruance he doth daily write,
That if my iudgement be not much mistooke,
An Elephant will scarce support his booke.
For he in fiue months built a paper hulke,
And this must be ten times of greater buike.
[Page 68]O Pauls-Church-yard, I onely pitty thee,
Thou, onely thou, shalt most encumbred bee:
Thou from the Presse are prest to be opprest,
With many a farfetch'd home-brought Odcomb iest.
But yet I know the Stationers are wise,
And well do know wherein the danger lies:
For to such inconuenience they'l not enter,
But suffer Coriat to abide th'aduenter:
Because his Gyant volume is so large,
They'l giue sir Thomas leaue to beare the charge.
That man is mad who changes gold for drosse,
And so were they to buy a certaine losse:
Let him that got and bore the Barne, still breed it,
And nurse, disburse, and foster, cloath, and feed it.
THus hath my Muse (as fortune her allotted)
Both run and rid, and gallopt, ambled, trotted
To skyes, and seas, and to blacke hell below,
In seruile duty that my loue doth owe.
My captiue thoughts, like trusty seruants to him,
Striue how they any way may seruice doe him.
To serue his turne like Prentices they gree,
Ioue send Sir Thomas home to make them free.

Epilogue to Sir Thomas Coriat vpon his name.

VVHy haue I spent my time thus, Coriat?
Wherfore on thy leud lines thus pore I at?
Why like an Ideot foole adore— I at
Thy workes? which wisedome will not glory at.
At no place'euer was before— I at
Where wonders vpon wonder more— I at
With pen, instead of Lance, now gore— I at
Thy Odcomb foppery now bore— I at.
At thy prides altitude, now fore— I at
Thou art the Theame I write my— story at.
If ought befell me to be— story at
Hard-hearted fate, 'gainst thee then rore— I at.

Vpon his bookes name, called his Crudities.

TOm Coriat, I haue seene thy Crudities,
And, me-thinkes, very strangely brude it is,
With piece and patch together glude— it is,
And how (like thee) ill-fauour'd hu'de— it is,
In many a line I see that lewd— it is,
And therefore fit to be subdew'd— it is,
Within thy broyling braine-pan stude— it is,
And twixt thy grinding iawes well chewd it is,
Within thy stomacke closely mude— it is,
And last, in Court and Country spude— it is:
But now by wisedomes eye that view'd it is,
They all agree that very rude— it is,
With foolery so full endude— it is,
That wondrously by fooles pursude— it is,
As sweet as galls amaritude— it is,
And seeming full of Pulchritude— it is,
But more to write, but to intrude— it is,
And therefore wisedome to conclude— it is,

A Simile for his Learning.

THe lushious Grape of Bacchus heating Vine,
When it to ripe maturity is sprung,
Is prest, and so conuerred into wine,
Then clos'd in Caske most tight at head and bung:
For if by chance, it chanceth to take vent:
It spils the wine in colour, strength, and sent,
Eu'n so thy Latine, and thy Greeke was good
Till in thy musty Hogges-head it was put:
And Odly there Commixed with thy blood,
Not wisely kept, nor well; nor tightly shut:
That of the Caske it tastes, so I assure thee,
That few (or none) can (but in sport) endure thee.

My Fare-well to him.

NOw Coriat, I with thee haue euer done,
My Muse vnto her iournies end hath wonne:
My first Inuentions highly did displease thee,
And these my last are written to appease thee.
I wrought these great Herculean works to win thee:
Then if they please thee not, the foole's within thee
What next I write, shall better be or none,
Doe thou let me, and I'l let thee alone.
But if thou seem'st to rub a galled sore,
Vindictas vengeance makes all Hell to rore.
FINIS.

Laugh, and be Fat: OR, A COMMENTARY VPON THE ODCOMBYAN BANKET.

To the Reader.

REader, Idoe not come vpon you with the old musty Epithites of Honest, Kinde, Courteous, Louing, Friendly, or Gentle: The reason is; I am not acquainted with your qualities; and besides, I am loth to belye any man: But if you bee addicted to any of these aforesaid vertues, I pray let mee finde it in your fauourable Censure, and so I leaue you to laugh [...]d lie downe. Bee fat.

LAVGH, AND BE FAT.

Now Monsieur Coriat, let them laugh that wins,
For I assure ye now the game begins.
[...] is wondrous strange how your opinions vary,
[...]m iudgement, sence [...] or reason so contrary;
[...]at with infamous rash timerity,
[...]m raile at me with such seuerity,
[...]be broad-fac'd lefts that other men put on you,
[...]take for fauours well bestow'd vpon you.
[...]sport they giue you many a pleasant cuffe,
[...] no mans lines but mine, you take in snuffe.
[...]hich makes the ancient Prouerbe be in force,
[...]at some may with more safety steale a horse,
Then others may looke on: for still it falls.
The weakest alwayes must goe to the walls.
I need no: vse this Etymology,
My plainer meaning to exemplifie;
Which doth induce me to expresse the cause,
That my vntutor'd Pen to writing drawes.
Be it to all men by these presents knowne,
That lately to the world was p [...]ainely showne,
In a huge volume Gogmagoticall,
In Verse and Prose, with speech dogmaticall,
Thy wondrous Trauels from thy natiue home,
How Odly out thou went'st, and Odly [...]ome.
[Page 70]And how, as fitted best thy Workes of worth,
The rarest Wits thy Booke did vsher forth.
But I alas, to make thy fame more fuller,
Did lately write a Pamphlet Call'd the Sculler;
In which, as vnto others of my friends,
I sent to the [...] (braue Monsieur) kind commends,
Which thou in double dudgeon tak'st from me,
And vow'st, and swor'st, thou wilt reuenged be.
The cause, I heare, your fury flameth from,
I said, I was no dunce-combe, cox-combe Tom:
What's that to you (good Sir) that you should fume,
Or rage, or chase, or thinke I durst presume
To speake, or write, that you are such a one?
I onely said, that I my selfe was none.
Yet Sir, I'l be a Cocks-combe if so please you,
If you are ouer-laden, Sir, I'l ease you,
Your store of witlesse wisdome in your budget,
To giue your friend a little neuer grudge it.
Nor that from Odcombs towne I first began,
Nor that I greeke or Latine gabble can.
I am no Odcombe Tom, why, what of that?
Nor nothing but baro English can I chat.
I pray what wrong is this to you good Sur?
Your indignation why should this incurre?
Nor that I thought our Land had spent her store,
That I need visit Venice for a whore;
Which (if I would) I could make neerer proofes,
And not (like you) so farre to gall my hoofes.
I said, if such a volume I should make,
The rarest wits would scorne such paines to take,
At my returne, amidst my skarre-crow totters,
To runne before me like so many trotters.
I know, my merits neuer will be such,
That they should deigne to honour me so much.
I further said, I enuied not your state,
For you had nothing worthy of my hate.
In loue, your innocence I truly pitty,
Your plentious want of wit seemes wondrous wittie.
Your vertue cannot breed my hatefull lothing,
For what an asse were I, to hate iust nothing?
Your vice I bare not, neither, I protest,
But loue, and laugh, and like it like the rest.
Your vice, nor vertue, manners, nor your forme,
Can breed in me fell enuies hatefull worme.
I said it was a lodging most vnfit,
Within an idle braine to house your wit.
Here, I confesse, my fault I cannot hide.
You were not idle, nor well occupide.
Be't faire, or foule, be't early, or be't late,
Your simple witlies in your humble pate.
A King sometimes may in a cottage lye,
And Lyons rest in swines contagious stye:
So your rare wit that's euer at the full,
Lyes in the cane of your rotundious skull,
Vntill your wisedomes pleasure send it forth,
From East to West, from South vnto the North,
With squib-crack lightning, empty hogshead thundring.
To maze the world with terror & with wondring
I boldly bade you foole it at the Court,
There's no place else so fit for your resort.
But though I bid you foole it, you may chuse,
Though I command, yet Sir you may refuse;
For why, I thinke it more then foolish pitty.
So great a iemme as you, should grace the citty,
Whilst I would foole it on the liquid Thames,
Still praying for the Maiesty of Iames.
Good Sir, if this you take in such disgrace,
To giue you satisfaction, take my place,
And foole it on the Thames, whilst I at Court
Will try, if I, like you, can make some sport:
Or rather then for fooleship we will brawle,
You shall be foole in Court, on Thames and all,
Thus what to you I writ, loe here's the totall,
And you with angry spleen haue deign'd to note [...]
And vow from hell to hale sterne Nemesis,
To whip me from the bounds of Thamesis;
Yet when I ope your paper murd'ring booke,
I see what paines the wisest wits haue tooke,
To giue you titles supernodicall,
In orders orderlesse methodicall:
There doe I see how euery one doth striue,
In spight of Death, to make thee still suruiue.
No garded gowne-man, dead, nor yet aliue,
But they make thee their great superlatiue.
In the beginning Alphabeticall,
With figures, tropes, and words patheticall,
They all successiuely from A to N,
Describe thee for the onely man of Men.

The frontispice of Master Coriats Booke very [...] nedly descanted vpon, by Master Laurence Whitakers, and Master Beniamin Ionson.

Thy Shipping, and thy Haddocks friendly feeding,
Thy Carting in thy Trauels great proceeding:
Thy riding Stirroplesse, thy iadish courser,
Thy Ambling o'r the Alpes; and which is worser,
After the Purgatory of thy Legges,
Thy Puncke bepelts thy pate with rotten egges.
When thou, braue man, assault'st to boord a Pinace,
As fits thy state, she welcomes thee to Venice.
Thy running from the mis-beleeuing Iew,
Because thou, thought'st the Iew sought more then [...]
For why, the Iew with superstition blind,
Would haue thee leaue what most thou lou'st, behind,
How with a rusticke Boore thou mad'st a fray,
And manfully broughtst all the blowes away.
The Turkish Emp'rour, or the Persian Sophy,
Can hardly match thy monumentall Trophy.
[Page 71]Thy ancient Ierkin, and thy aged sloppes,
From whose warme confines thy retainers drops.
I stand in feare to doe thy greatnesse wrong,
For 'tis suppos'd thou wast a thousand strong;
Who all deriu'd from thee their happy breeding,
And from thy bounty had their clothes & feeding.
Thy lasting shooes, thy stockings, and thy garters,
To thy great fame are drawn and hangd in quarters.
Thy Hat most fitly beautifies thy crest,
Thy wits great couer, couers all the rest.
The letter K doth shew the brauest fight:
But wherefore K? I'm sure thou art no Knight:
Why might not L, nor M, nor N, or O,
As well as knauish K, thy picture show?
But saucie K, I see will haue a place,
When all the Crosse-row shall endure disgrace.
Who at the letter K doth truly seeke,
Shall see thee hemm'd with Latine & with Greeke:
Whereas thy name, thy age, and Odcombs towne,
Are workemanly ingrau'd to thy renowne.
Beleaguerd round with three such female shapes,
Whose features would enforce the gods to rapes,
France, Germany, and smug-fac'd Italy,
Attend thee in a kind triplicity.
France giues thee clusters of the fruitfull vine,
And Germany (layes out) t'adorne thy shrine:
And Italie doth wittily inuite thee,
And prittily (she sayes) she will delight thee.
But yet thy entertainement was but bitter,
At Bergamo with horses in their litter:
Whose iadish kindnesse in thy stomacke stickes,
Who for thy welcome flung thee coltish kickes.
Thy begging from the high-way Purse-takers,
Describes thee for a learned wiseakers.
[...]o thus thy single worth is praised double,
For rare inuention neuer counts it trouble,
With timelesse reasons, and with Reasons verse,
Thy great Odcombian glory to rehearse.
But yet, whilst they in pleasures lap doe lull thee,
Amidst thy praise egregiously they gull thee:
Th'art made Tom Table-talke, mongst gulls and gal­lants
Thy book, and thee, & such esteemed tallants,
When they are tired with thy trauels treading,
Then hauing nought to do, they fall to reading.
Thy wits false-galloping perambulation,
Which ease the Readers more then a purgation.
But to proceed, I'l recapitulate
The praise that doth thy worth accommodate.
Thy Character in learn'd admired Prose,
The perfect inside of thy humour showes:
Attended with thy copious names Acrosticke,
To shew thee wisest being most fantasticke.

All these Noblemen and Gentlemen that are named in the following book, did write merry commendatory verses, which were called the Odcombian banquet, and were in­serted in Mr Coriats booke, intituled, Coriats C [...]udi­ties: Vpon which verses, I haue seuerally and particularly paraphrased.

Next which, in doggrell rime is writ, I wot,
Thy name, thy birth, and place where thou wast got:
Thy education, manners, and thy learning,
Thy going outward, and thy home returning.
Yet there I finde, the Writer hath tane leaue,
Midst words that seeme thy same aloft to heaue,
That for no little foole he doth account thee,
But with the greatest vp aloft doth mount thee.
Th'art lik'ned to a Ducke, a Drake, a Beare,
A iadish Gelding that was made to beare:
An Owle that sings, no wit, to whit, to who,
That nothing well can sing, nor say, nor doe.
Incipit Henricus Neuill de Aberguenie.
Then follows next, a friend that faine would knight thee,
But that he fears he should do more then right thee:
Yet whē his verses praise on cock-horse heues thee,
He found thee Thomas, & Thomas he leaues thee.
Iohannes Harringtonde B [...]
The Goose that guarded Rome with sentles gagling;
Is here implor'd t'assist the Ganders stragling:
A pen made of her quill would lift thee fooae,
As high as is the thorn-bush in the Moone.
Incipit Ludonicus L [...]wknor.
Fooles past and present and to come, they say,
To thee in generall must all giue way:
Apuleius asse, nor Mida's lolling cares,
No fellowship with thee (braue Coriat) beares.
For 'tis concluded 'mongst the wizards all,
To make thee Master of Gul-finches hall.
Incipit Henricus Goodyer.
Old Odcombs odnesse makes not thee vneuen,
Nor carelesly set all at six and seuen.
Thy person's odde, vnparaleld, vnmatchd,
But yet thy Action's to the person patch'd.
Thy body and thy mind are twins in sadnesse,
Which makes thee euen in the midst of odnesse.
What- [...]r thou odly dost, is eu'nly meant,
In Idiotisme thou art eu'n an Innocent.
Thy booke and thee are shap'd to like each other,
That if I looke on t'one, I see the tother,
Th'art light, th'art heauy, merry midst thy sadnesse,
And still art wisest midst of all thy madnesse.
So odly euen thy feet thy iourney trod,
That in conclusion thou art euenly odde.
Incipit [...]nnes Paiton Iunior.
Thou saw'st so many cities, townes, and garisons,
That Caesar must not make with thee comparisons:
Great Iulius Commentaries lies and rots,
As good for nothing but stoppe mustard pots.
For Coriats booke is onely in request,
All other volumes now may lye and rest.
Blind Homer in his writings tooke great paines,
Yet he and thee doe differ many graines:
For in my minde I hold it most vnfit,
To liken Homers verses to thy Writ.
Incipit Henricus Poole.
Next followes one, whose lines aloft doe raise
Don Coriat, chiefe Diego of our daies.
To praise thy booke, or thee, he knowes not whether,
It makes him study to praise both, or neither.
At last, he learnedly lets flie at large,
Compares thy booke vnto a Westerne Barge;
And saies, 'tis pitty thy all worthlesse worke,
In darke obscurity at home should lurke;
And then thy blunted courage to encourage,
Couragiously he counsels thee to forrage
'Mongst forraine Regions, and t'obserue their state,
That to thy Country-men thou might'st relate
At thy returne, their manners, liues, and law,
Belcht from the tumbrell of thy gorged maw.
Incipit Robertus Philips.
This worthy man thy fame on high doth heaue,
Yet Mounsieur Leg-stretcher, pray giue me leaue.
He saies that men doe much mistake thy age,
That thinke thou art not past the making sage.
Tis hard to make a foole of one that's wise;
For wit doth pitty folly, not despise:
But for to make a wife man of a foole,
To such a Clarke we both may goe to schoole.
Yet much I feare, to learne it is too late,
Our youthfull age, with wit is out of date.
He sayes, If any one a foole dares call thee,
Let not his thundring big-mouth'd words apall thee;
But in thine owne defence draw out thy toole,
Thy Booke, he means, which will his courage coole.
For why, thy Booke shall like a brazen shield
Defend thy cause, and thee the glory yeeld.
An asse I'm sure, could ne'r obserue so much,
Because an asses businesse is not such.
Yet if an asse could write as well as run,
He then perhaps, might doe as thou hast done.
But tis impossible a simple creature
Should doe such things (like thee) aboue his nature.
Thou Aiax of the frothie Whitson Ale,
Let AEolus breathe, with many a friendly gale,
Fill full thy sailes, that after-times may know,
What thou to these our times dost friendly show:
That as of thee the like was neuer heard,
They crowne thee with a Marrot, or a Mard,
Incipit Dudleius Digges.
Here's one affirmes thy booke is onely thine,
How basely thou didst steale nor yet purloyne,
But from the labour of thy legges and braine,
This heire of thine did life and soule obtaine.
Thou art no cuckold, men may iustly gather:
Because the childe is made so like the father,
In nat'rall fashion, and in nat'rall wit:
Despight of Art, 'tis Nat'rall euery whit.
Incipit Rowlandus Cotton.
Columbus, Magelan, nor dreadfull Drake,
These three, like thee, did neuer iourny take.
Thou vntir'd trauelling admired iemme,
No man that's wife will liken thee to them.
The Calfe, thy booke, may call thee fire and dam,
Thy body is the Dad, thy minde the Mam.
Thy toylesome carkasse got this child of worth,
Which thy elaborate wit produced forth.
Now Ioues sweet benison befall the Barne,
How quickly it the fathers wit could learne!
So thou nor male nor female art by right,
But both in one, a true Hermaphrodite.
That man may well be call'd an idle mome,
That mocks the Cocke because he weares a combe:
A man to better vse may put his tongue,
Then flowt an Asse because his eares be long.
To thee alone in Tropes sophisticall,
These lines are writ in speeches mysticall.
The Moones own man that bears the bush of them,
May rue the time, that e'r thy selfe wast borne;
Thou hast beene, whereas he hath neuer beene,
And seene more sights then Luna's man hath seene.
Cast lots with him, for why, I thinke it fit,
Thou hadst his bush to shrowd thy nat'rall wit.
Tis pitty Calculations of thy birth,
Should be diuulg'd about this massie earth;
For out of it each foole would matter pike,
By Obseruation to beget thy like.
Incipit Robertus Taxley.
Now Mounsieur Coriat, enuy not the Sculler,
Here's one would haue thy coat of many a culler,
And as befits thy person, he thinks best,
Thou had'st a cap and Cocks-combe for thy crest
And 'cause a traueller may boldly lye,
A whetstone Embleme-wise must hang thereby.
[Page 73]And at the last he ends in pleasant sort,
And saies, Thy booke and thee, were made for sport.
Incipit Iohannes Strangwaies.
This Gentleman thy trauels doth aduance,
Aboue Kemps Norwich anticke Morris-dance:
And hauing grac'd thy fame with praises meet,
Talkes of thy shooes, and of thy galled feet,
And how thou thought'st the Iewes were too too cruel,
And ranst away from them, to saue thy iewel.
Thy heeles there help'd thee nimbly in thy flight,
Since which, thy hands haue done much more to wright.
Incipit Gulielmus Clauel.
Here's one whose Muse was couiur'd from her sleep
And being rapt with admiration deepe,
Thy booke he titles Gogmogog the huge,
Thy shield of safety, and thy wits refuge.
Iohannes Scorie.
Here's one that mounts thy same beneath the sky,
And makes thee famous for Cosmography.
He saies, (but sure he either iests or flouts)
Thou drew'st a Map, when first thou pist thy clouts.
And how it was allotted thee by fate,
As soone as thou wast borne, to talke and prate.
For as a candle's stuft with cotton weeke,
So thou art cramm'd vp to the brim with Greeke.
As Asia and to Affricke, prethee goe,
Let them like Europe thy rare vertues know,
And make thy Booke thy Buckler 'gainst all euill,
Whose grim aspect will terrifie the diuell.
Iohannes Donne.
Another here thy l [...]ooke doth much commend,
That none can studie it to any end.
Without or head, or foot, or top or taile;
Yet like a sauage monster dares assaile
The front of sadnesse, who with anticke grinning,
Applauds thee without ending or beginning.
Great Lunaticke, I thinke thou'lt ne'r be full,
Vntill the world cannot containe thy skull:
And like a foot-ball cram the vaulty skies,
Because, earth, aire, nor sea cannot suffice
The greatnesse of thy Fame, thy booke, and thee,
All three in one, and one compact of three.
Yet here's a Prophecie concernes thee much,
Which doth thy booke and thee too neerely tutch;
Both gulls, and gallants, thy poore brat bereaues,
And from thy booke, shall rend both lims & leaues,
To wrap vp pepper, ginger, cloues, and mace,
And drie Tobacco in each skuruie place:
To fold vp drugs, and pilles, for Physicks vse,
And serue for each Mechanicall abuse.
But I not minding with thy state to slatter,
Thinke't will be vs'd in many a priuie matter.
Thou o'r thy wit dost keepe such carefull watch,
That from thee one can hardly any catch:
And sooth to say, his conscience is but little,
Which in his wants would seeke to rob the Spittle
Thy wits exchequer hath bin ouer-kinde,
That (much I feare) there's little left behinde.
But thou (braue man) bidst freely farewell it,
We'll raise Fifteenes, and Subsidies of wit
Shall fill thy seruiceable pate againe,
Whose pōdrous waight shal tire thy bearing brain.
Then seare not, man, but spend it whilst thou hast it,
To doe thy Countrey seruice 'tis not wasted.
This Author saies, thy book o'r-throwes him quite,
And therefore bids both it and thee good night,
The greatnesse of it puts him in such feares,
That he'll reade neither all, nor none, he sweares.
Richardus Martin.
This friend of thine, thy wisedome cannot mocke,
Yet he intitles thee an Od comb'd cocke:
'T had bin all one, if at thy comming home,
He had but plac'd the cocke before the combe.
To make thy name more learnedly appeare,
He calls thee here an Od comb'd Chanticleere.

I knew not who this should bee, but it is the next English to Mr. Laurence Whitakers Out-landish.

Now here's another like a true Attourney,
Pleades very wisely, and applauds thy iourney
And faies, thy trauels thou didst so decipher.
As well the world may see thou art no cipher.
And how thy booke so liuely out doth show thee,
That whosoe'r doth see't, must truly know thee.
Hugo Holland.
This man doth praise thy totterd ragged shirt,
Thy shooes and shanks at all he hath a flirst:
And like a patient bearing Asse, he saies,
Thou bear'st thy load through faire & foulest waies
And for in carriage thou didst proue so able,
At night thou laist with Iades within a stable.
Thou wast not onely in thy pace an asse,
But thou all other asses didst surpasse.
All beasts in knowledge were to thee but weake,
For thou the tongue of Balaam [...] asse didst speake.
But much I feare, thy booke in print will staine,
Because thou art not di'da ( [...])in graine.
The Preamble to the Paralel, and the Epilogue.
Againe, this Author thinkes it no great, slander,
To say thou fitly maist be call'd a Gander.
Braue trotting traueller, thy fame he hisses,
And makes thy wit inferiour to Vlisses,
And if he laugh not at thee, much he feares,
In angry spleene thou'lt haue him by the cares.
Therefore hee'l laugh at thee, and so will I.
In hope to scape thy furious rage thereby.
Next, in the ancient famous Cambrian tongue,
To call thee noddy, he accounts no wrong.
T'interpret this, I need to goe to Schoole,
I wot not what he meanes, except a ( [...]).
Robertus Riccomontanus.
A large relation this thy friend did write,
Describing thee a monstrous man of might:
And bids thee venter such another taske,
And at thy backe returne hee'll haue a caske,
Much bigger then the Heidelbergian bumbard,
To keepe thy works, that neuer can be numberd.
Christopherus Brooke Eboraconsit.
This Gentleman in some vnmeasur'd measure,
Compares thee vnto Homer and to Caesar.
Old Homers Iliads are but idle tales,
Waigh'd with thy works, thy booke will turne the cales.
And like great Caesar he doth thee commend,
For thou, like him, hast all thy trauels penn'd,
But yet, me thinks he playes the merry foxe,
And in thy praises writes a Paradoxe.
Iohannes Hoskins, Cabalisticall, or Horse verse.
Hold, holla, holla, weehee, stand, I say,
Here's one with horse-verse doth thy praise dissplay:
Without all sence, or reason, forme, or hue,
He kicks and stings, and winces thee thy due.
He maketh shift in speeches mysticall,
To write strange verses Cabalisticall;
Much like thy booke and thee, in wit, and shape,
Whilst I in imitation am his Ape.
Mount Maluora swimming on a big-limb'd guat,
And Titan tilting with a flaming Swanne,
Great Atlas flying on a winged Sprat,
Arm'd with the Hemispheares huge warming pan.
Or like the triple Vrchins of the Ash,
That lie and she through Morpheus sweet-fac'd doore,
Doth drowne the starres with a Poledauies flash,
And make the smooth-heel'd ambling rocks to ro [...]
Euen so this tall Colombrum Pigmy steeple,
That bores the Butterflie aboue the spheare;
Puls AEolus taile, and Neptunes mountaines tipple [...]
Whilst Coloquintida his fame shall reare.
Loe thus my Muse, in stumbling iadish verse,
On horse-backe and on foot thy praise rehearse.
Pricksong.
Here's one harmoniously thy same doth raise,
With Pricksong verse to giue thee prick & praise;
But prick nor spur can make thee mend thy tro [...],
For thou by nature art nor cold nor hot:
But a meere nat'rall, neutrall amongst men,
Arm'd like the bristles of a Porcupen.
If French, or Venice Puncks had fir'd or scald thee,
This man had neuer raw-bon'd Coriat call'd thee:
Thou that so many Climats hotly coasted,
I wonder much thou wast not boild nor rosted.
Yet euery man that earst thy carkasse saw,
Are much in doubt if thou bee'st roast or raw,
Iohannes Pawlet, de George Henton.
Now here's another in thy praises ran,
And would intitle thee the great god Pan.
No warming pan thou art I plainely see,
No fire-pan, nor no frying-pan canst thou be.
Thou art no creame-pan neither, worthy man,
Although thy wits lie in thy heads braine-pan.
Lionel Cranfield
This Gentleman thy wondrous trauels rips,
And nothing that may honour thee, he skips.
Thy yron memory thy booke did write,
I prethee keepe a wench to keepe it bright;
For cankerd rust, I know will yron fret,
And make thee wit and memory forget.
Left rust therefore, thy memory should deuoure,
I'd haue thee hire a Tinker it to scowre.
Iohannes Sutclin.
Now here's a friend doth to thy fame confesse,
Thy wit were greater if thy worke were lesse.
He from thy labour treats thee to giue o're,
And then thy case and wit will be much more.
Lo thus thy small wit, and thy labour great,
He summons to a peaceable retreat.
Inigo Iones.
What liuing wight can in thy praise be dum,
Thou crowing Cock, that didst from Odcom com.
[Page 75]This Gentleman amongst the rest doth flocke,
To sing thy fame, thou famous Odcomb'd cocke.
And learnedly, to doe thee greater grace.
Relates how thou canst scrue thy veriuyce face.
He wishes him that scornes thy booke to read,
It at the sessions house he chance to plead,
That he may want his booke, although he craue;
But yet, thy booke will sooner hang then saue.
So many gallowses are in thy booke,
Which none can read without a hanging looke.
Georgius Siddenham.
Now here's a Substantiue stands by himselfe,
And makes thee famous for an anticke else:
But yet, me thinkes, he giues thee but a frumpe,
In telling how thou kist a wenches rumpe:
To spoile her ruffe, I thinke thou stood'st in fear [...],
That was the cause that made thee kisse her there.
Robertus Halswell.
Thy praise and worth this man accounts not small,
But 'thad bin greater, writing not at all:
Thy booke he calls Dame Admirations brother,
I thinke the world vnworthy such another.
Thy booke can make men merry that are sad'
But such another sure will make men mad.
Iohannes Gifford.
This friend amongst the rest, takes little paine,
To laud the issue of thy teeming braine:
And to applaud thee with his best endeauor,
He begs his wits to helpe him now or neuer.
He bids graue Munster reuerence thy renowne,
And lay his pen aside, and combe thy crowne.
He praises thee, as though he meant to split all:
And saies, thou art all wit (but yet no witall)
Except thy head, which like a skonce or fort,
Is barracado'd strong, left wits resort,
Within thy braines should rayse an insurrection,
And so captiue thy head to wits subiection.
Robertus Corbet.
The luggage of thy wit, thy Booke he tearmes,
The bagge and baggage of thy legs and armes,
That neuer can be vnderstood by none,
But onely such as are like thee alone.
Iohannes Donnes.
This Gentleman commends thy Trauels much,
Because like thee, was neuer any such.
Decembers thunder, nor hot Iulies snow,
Are nothing like the wonders thou dost show.
Iohannes Chapman.
Here's one in kindnesse learnedly compacts,
Thy naturall iests, and thy all naturall acts,
And craues the Reader would some pity take,
To buy thy booke, euen for his owne deare sake.
For of thy trauels, and thy great designes,
There's little matter writ in many lines.
Thou in much writing tak'st such great delight,
That if men read, thou car'st not what thou write,
This man could well afford to praise thee more,
But that hee's loth to haue thee on his score:
For he no longer will thy praise pursue,
Lest he should pay thee more then is his due.
Iohannes Owen.
This Author (to thy fame) in friendship saies;
How ancient Writers pend the Asses praise:
And wishes some of them aliue agen,
That they alone might thy high praises pen.
Petrus Alley.
Now here's a friend that lowd thy glory rings,
With Cannons, Sakers, Culuerings, and Slings,
Guns, drums, and phifes, and the thrill clang'rous trūpet
Applauds thy courting the Venetian strūpet
Samuel Page.
This Gentleman accounts it no great wrong,
Amidst thy praise, to say thy cares be long:
His meaning my construction much surpasses,
I wet not what he meanes, except an ( [...].)
Thomas Momford.
Here's a strange riddle puts me much in doubt,
Thy head's within thy wit, thy wit's without:
'Twere good some friend of thine would take the paines
To put thy wit i'the inside of thy braines.
For pitty doe not turne it out of dore,
Thy head will hold it, if'twere ten times more.
Thomas Bastard.
This Gentleman aduiseth thee take heed,
Lest on thy praise too greedily thou feed:
But though, too much, a surfet breed he saies,
Yet thou shalt surfet, but not die of praise.
Guilielmus Baker.
Here's one by no meanes at thy same can winke,
And saies, how most men say thou pissest inke:
[Page 76]If it be true, I'de giue my guilded raper,
That to thy inke thou couldst sir-reuerence paper:
Thy gaines would be much more, thy charges lesse,
When any workes of thine come to the Presse.
'Twere good thy eares were par'd from off thy head,
'Twould stand Cosmographers in wondrous stead,
To make a Globe to serue this massie earth,
To be a mappe of laughter, aud of mirth.
All new-found sustian phrases thou do'st sup,
And' gainst a dearth of words, dost hoard them vp.
Yet where thou com'st, thou spendst thy prating pelse,
Thogh no man vnderstand thee, nor thy selfe.
Thou art a iewell to be hang'd most fit,
In eares, whose heads are nothing, but all wit.
And thy blown tongue wil make great ships to saile
From coast to coast, if winde and weather faile.
Againe.
Againe his Muse from sodaine sleep is waked,
And saies, this booke of thine is nat'rall naked.
Thou urely art a seruiceable waiter,
For when thou mad'st this booke, thou didst not loyter.
Yet much he doubts, if God or fiend will haue thee,
For if thou be'st sau'd, sure thy booke will saue thee.
If I to scape the gallowes needs must read,
I surely for another booke will plead:
The reason that incites me thereunto,
Thy booke to saue thee hath enough to doe.
This man hath a Greeke name.
This Gentleman thy praise doth briefely note,
Compares thy wit and senses to a Goare,
And well thy breeding he hath here exprest,
A Phoenix hatch'd from out the Wag-tailes nest.
But let them say, and call thee what they will,
Thou wast, and art, and wilt be Coriat still.
Thomas Farnabie, alias Baiur [...]fc
Here's one that like a carefull true Collector,
Tells, like a Bee, thou fill'st thy combe with Nectar:
Die when thou wilt, in honour of thy Name,
Ram-headed Bel-weathers shall ring thy fame.
Guilielmus Austin.
I thinke this Author doth equiuocate,
In writing of the word [...]
The word so prittily he seemes to curtall,
That I imagine it is done for sportall.
But he perswades thee, trauell once agen,
And make the world to surfet with thy pen.
Glareanus Vadeanus.
Thou fatall impe to Glastenburie Abby,
The Prophecie includes thou art no baby,
That ouer Odcombs towne must one day ferrie,
As Whiting earst did ouer Glastenberie.
But yet 'tis pitty one of thy rare skill.
Should like the Monke be drowned vpon a hill.
If thou canst climbe to heauen in hempen string,
Thy same for euer then my Muse shall sing:
But yet 'tis safer in a Trunke to hide,
Then such a dang'rous wincing iade to ride.
Iohannes Iackeson.
Thou that hast trauel'd much from coast to coast,
Come eat this Egge, that is nor rawe nor rost:
For like a friend, this man hath plaid the cooke,
And potch'd this Ginnie Egge into thy booke.
Michael Draiton.
Now here's another followes with a messe,
In haste, before thy Booke comes to the Presse.
The shortnesse of the time, is all his fault:
But now he's come, and brings thee spoons & salt
He saies that thou hast taught the right behauior,
How with great men we all may liue in fauor.
He bids thee liue, and with their loues to ioyne,
Whose worth and vertues are most like to thine.
Nicholas Smith.
This Author liuely hath thy fame exprest,
But yet his lines are different from the rest:
For all but he that doe thy praises pen,
Say thou art farre vnlike to other men.
But this man to thy honour doth relate,
How many Courtiers thee doe imitate;
And how for feare thou should'st be stolne away,
They make themselues as like thee as they may.
For if they lose thee by false theft. or slaughter,
The Court (I feare) will weep for want of laughter,
Thy greatnes here the pore-blind world may see,
He saies (not I) thy peeres haue iudged thee:
Stand to their censures then, make no deniall,
For surely thou hast had a noble triall.
Laurentius Emley.
Here's one commends thy booke, and bodies paine,
And counsels thee to trauell once againe;
Whereas the treasure of thy wit and body,
Shall tire each lumpish asse, and dronish noddie.
A horse that beares thy corpes, more ease shall find,
Then men can haue in bearing of thy minde:
[Page 77]For in thy minde is many a paire of gallowes,
Waigh's more then thee, or twentie of thy fellowes.
Was nothing in thy iourney, small or mickle,
But in thy minde thou barrell'dst it in pickle:
So that if men to see thy minde were able.
There's more confusion then was ere at Babel.
For there's confusion both of tongues and towers,
Of loftie steeples, and of lowly bowers.
Of libbets, racks, and round nor menting wheeles,
Of Haddockes, Paddockes, and of slipp'rie Eeles:
Of wit, of sense, of reason, death, and life,
Of loue, of hate, of concord, and of strife.
The seuen deadly sinnes, and liberall Arts,
Doe in thy minde discord, and haue tane parts.
It is a doubt which side the conquest winnes,
Either the liberall Arts, or deadly sinnes.
Not fourtie Elephants can beare the loade,
Of pondrous things, that haue in thee abode.
Thy minde waighs more then I can write or speak,
Which heauie burden Atlas backe would breake.
Iohannes Dauis.
This Gentleman thy trauels doth relate,
Applauding much the hardnesse of thy pate:
I thinke thy head's as hard as steele, or rockes,
How could thy cox-comb else endure such knocks?
The brauest Smithes of Britaine haue tane paines,
To beat vpon the anuill of thy braines.
But let them beat, thou canst abide the blowes,
Thou countst thē fauors which thy friends bestows,
One with a cocks-combe hits thee o'r the comb,
Another with an Asses eares strikes home:
Another with a fooles coat, and a cap,
As hard as he can driue, giues thee a clap:
But let them strike with what they please to strike,
Thy hardened head will not their strokes dislike.
The blows the Boore did giue thee in the vineyard,
Thou put'st them vp, & neuer drew'st thy whiniard:
Thou took'st a beating from a boorish foe-man,
I hope that thou wilt scorne a knocke from no man.
Richardus Badley
Here's one whose lines cōmend thee with the most,
And saies, how that a foole at Pentecost,
(At Whitsontide he meanes) did ouerthrow thee,
And at thy owne blunt weapon ouer-crow thee.
If it be true, me thinkes 'tis wondrous strange,
That thou so many countries o'r should'st range:
And hast the tongues of Latine and of Greeke,
Yet 'gainst a foole should'st haue thy wits to seeke.
I at the Sessions house the like haue seene,
When malefactors at the bar haue beene,
Being well-read Schollers, for their booke would plead,
Yet for their liues haue had no power to read.
So thou great Polypragmon wast more graueld
With this wise foole, thē else-wher as thou traueld.
Henricus Peacham.
Of all rare sights, in city, court, or towne,
This Author saies, thou brauely put'st them downe;
The horrid darke eclipse of Sunne or Moone,
The Lyon Elephant, or the Baboone:
The huge Whale-bone, that's hang'd vp at White-hall,
The sight of thee puts downe the diuell and all.
Tricks, ligges, and motions, are but idle toyes,
The sight of thee their glories all destroyes.
The sweetnesse of thy Phisnomy is such,
That many to behold it would giue much.
But they are blind, and would giue more to see,
And therefore would giue much to looke on thee.
The Viopian Tongue.
Thoytem Asse Coria Tushrump cod she adirustie,
Mungrellimo whish whap ragge dicete tottrie,
Mangelusquem verminets nipsem barely battimsore
Culliandolt trauellerebumque graiphone trutchmore.
Pusse per mew(Odcomb) gul abelgsk foppery shig shag
Cock a peps Comb settishamp, Idioshte momulus tag rag.
Iacobus Field.
This Author 'mongst the rest in kindnesse comes
To grace thy trauels with a world of Toms:
Tom Thumbe, Tom foole, Tom piper, and Tom-asse,
Thou Tom of Toms dost all these Toms surpasse.
Tom tell-troth is a foolish gull to thee,
There's no comparisons twixt thee and hee.
If tell-troth Tom were any of thy kin,
I thinke thy Booke not halfe so big had bin.
Clareanus Videanus.
Not last, nor least, but neere thy praises end,
This worthy man thy worthlesse works commend:
No scuruy idle name he will thee call,
And therefore he will call thee none, but all.
If I on euery Epithete should write,
Thy friends bestow on thee, thou wandring wight,
No Reader then durst on my writings looke,
They would so far out-swell thy boystrous booke.
But shortest writ, the greatest wit affoords,
And greatest wit, consists in fewest words.
Thus Monsieur Coriat, at your kind request,
My recantation here I haue exprest,
And in my Commentaries haue bin bold
To write of all that haue your fame inrol'd,
[Page 78]I meane of such, my wit can vnderstand;
That speake the language of the Britaine land.
But for the Latine, French, the Greeke, or Spanish,
Italian, or the Welsh, from them I vanish.
I on these tongues by no meanes can comment,
For they are out of my dull Element.
Consider with your selfe, good Sir, I pray,
Who hath bin bolder with you, I, or they?
If I, I vow to make you satisfaction,
Either in words, or pen, or manly action:
I haue bin bold to descant on each iest,
Yet from the Text I nothing wrong did wrest:
My lines may be compared to the Thames,
Whose gliding current, and whose glassie streames,
On which if men doe looke, as in a glasse,
They may perceiue an asse to be an asse,
An owle an owle, a man to be a man:
And thou, thou famous great Odcombian,
Shalt see thy selfe descypherd out so plaine,
Thou shalt haue cause to thanke me for my paine.
But holla, holla, whither runnes my pen?
I yet haue descanted what other men
Haue wrote before: but now I thinke it fit
To adde additions of mine owne to it.
I yet haue champ'd what better writers chaw'd,
And now my Muse incites me to applaud
Thy worth, thy fortune, and thy high desart,
That all the world may take thee Asse thou art.
And now to sing thy glory I begin,
Thy worthy welcome vnto Bossoms Inne.

M'Coriats entertainement at Bossoms Inne.

IEwes-trumpt & Bag-pipes, musick high and low,
Stretch to the height your merry squeking notes
And all you Cockney cocks clap wings and crow,
Here comes an Odcomb cocke will eat no oates.
Pipes, tabers, fiddles, trebble, and the base,
Blow, sound, and scrape, fill all the ayre with mirth:
Blind harpers all your instruments vncase.
And welcome home the wonder of the earth:
Great Coriat, mirrour of the foure-fold world,
The fountaine whence Alacrity doth flow,
On whom rich Nature nat'rall gifts hath hurld,
Whom all admire, from Palace to the Plow:
The onely Aristarck-asse of this age,
The maine Exchequer of all mad-cap glee;
For Fortune thrust him on this earthly stage,
That he the onely Thing of Things should be.
He that so many galling steps hath trac'd,
That in so many countries earst hath bin,
And to his euiternall same is grac'd,
To be well welcom'd vnto Bossoms Inne.
Vnto which place, whilst Christians time doth last
If any once in progresse chance to come,
They of my Lords great bounty needs must taste,
Which oftentimes doth proue a pondrous summe
For why, my lusty liberall minded Lord
Is very friendly to all passengers,
And from his bounty freely doth afford
Both pounds, and purses to all messengers.
And thither now is Monsieur Odcombe come,
Who on his owne backe-side receiu [...]d his pay;
Not like the entertainement of Iacke Drum,
Who was best welcome when he went his way,
But he not taking my Lords coyne for current,
Against his Lordship and his followers raues,
Like to a cruell all-deuouring torrent,
These words he vtterd stuff'd with thūdring br [...]
Bafe vassals of the blacke infernall den,
Vntutor'd peasants to the fiends of hell,
Damn'd Incubusses in the shapes of men,
Whose mind's the sinke where impious dealings dwell;
Curst age, when buzzards, owles, and blinded bats,
Against the princely Eagle rise in swarmes,
When weazels, polecats, hungry tau'ning rats,
Against the Lyon raise rebellious armes,
When as the offall of the vilest earth,
Raile roguishly' gainst their superiour powers,
And seeme to contradict them in their mirth,
And blast with stinking breath their pleasat houres,
When base mechanicke muddy-minded slaues,
Whose choysest food is garlicke and greene cheese,
The cursed off-spring of hells horrid caues,
Rude rugged rascals, clad in pelt and freeze.
And such are you you damn'd Tartarian whelps,
Vnmanner'd mungrels, sonnes of Cerberu [...],
Whom Pluto keepes for speedy hellish helps,
T'increase the monarchie of Erebus.
But now my Muse with wrinkled laughter fild,
Is like to bursts: O hold my sides, I pray,
For straight my Lord by his command'ment wild,
(Cause Coriat did his Lordship disobay)
That in the Basket presently, they mount him,
And let him see his ancient royall tower:
For he hath maz'd them all, that they account him
To be some mighty man, of forcelesse power:
And now the matter plainer to disclose,
A little while I'll turne my verse to prose.

2. Oration.

COntaminous, pestiferous, preposterous, stygmaticall, slauonians, slubberdegulli­ons; since not the externall vnualued trap­pings, caparisons, or accoutrements, that I weare as outward ornaments or inuellopings of the more internall beauty of the minde that is [Page 79] [...]is incaged within them; since not the eye-ama­zing character of my austere Physiognomy: since not the sword of Aiax, nor the words of [...]vlisses; since no meanes, nor proiect, neither of [...]force or policy, could stay the rugged r [...]busti­ [...]ous rage that your innated hereditary inciui­lity or inhumanity hath made you to inflict [...]on me: I vow and sweare, by the burning heard of scorching Sol, and by the bloudy cut­throat cuttleaxe of swaggering Mars, and by the dimple faire Venus chin, and by the ar­med cornuted front of sweating Vulcan, that I will execute on you such confounding venge­ance that your off-springs off-spring, to the 39. generation, shall ban with execrations as bit­ter as coloquintida the day, houre, and bald-pa­ [...]ed Time of this your audacious insolency. And thou ignoble horse-rubbing peasant, that by the borrowed title of a Lord (being but a vilipendious mechanicall Hostler, hast laid this insulting insupportable command on me: the time shall come, when thou shalt cast thy [...]nticke authority, as a snake casts her skin; and then thou for an example to future posteri­ties shalt make an vnsauory period of thy ma­leuolent dayes in litter and horse-dongue.

No sooner was this graue Oration ended,
Whereto my Lord, and all his traine attended,
Being strooken in an admirable maze,
That they like Ghosts on one another gaze:
Quoth one, This, man doth coniure sure I thinke,
No Quoth another, He is much in drinke: [...]
Nay quoth a third, I doubt he's raging mad.
Faith, quoth my Lord, he's a most dangerous lad:
For such strange English from his tongue doth slide,
As no man (but himselfe) can speake beside.
If those that with their damnable intent,
Intended to blowe vp the Parlament,
Had had but him, and halfe a dozen such,
In gun-powder 'twould sure haue sau'd thē much,
For why their tōgs with blown cōbustious words,
Had done more scath then gunpowder or swords.
But let him hang vntill his clam'rous tongue
Vntwist with smoother garbe this sawcie wrong.
Yet I imagine some strange secret worke,
Did in his hanging in the Basket lurke.
What greater fame could to his glorie rise,
Then with a rope to trauell t'ward the skies:
And there to doe his carkasse greatest grace,
Among the gods to giue him Momus place:
For Saturne, Iupiter, and Phaetons Dad,
Are all enamor'd on this louely lad.
Mars, Venus, and the tel-tale Mercurie,
Doe all desire Tom Coriats company.
And Luna, sure thee's quite besides her wits,
Still wauering changing, with fantasticke fits;
Tis thought shee neuer will come to her selfe,
Till shee possesse this worthy worthlesse else.
For he's the man that Nature makes her casket,
To mount the skies in triumph in a basket.
But out alas my Muse, where hast thou bin?
I should haue kept my selfe at Bosomes Inne.
And see how I haue scal'd the spungie clowds.
But tis his worth my meditations crowds
To this extrauagant impertinence,
As being rauisht with his eminence.
But blame me not: for hee's the gigge of time,
Whō sharpest wits haue whip [...] with sportfull rime:
And some would wear their sharp-edg'd Muses blūt,
If in his praise they longer time should hunt.
But here's my comfort, I am not alone,
That vnder this most pondrous burden groane.
There's some like me, haue in his laud bin bizzie:
But I haue made my pericranion dizzie,
To sing the worth of this all wordy squire,
Whom sea and land, and fish and flesh admire.
And now his contemplation prompts his tong,
To tune his voyce to a more milder song
His tongue that brake the peace, must peace procure.
That (like Achilles launce) can wound and cure.
And once more, Reader, humbly I entreat,
That I in spowting Prose may now repeat
His Oratories smooth-fac'd Epilogue.
O for some Academicke Pedagogue
T' instruct my braine, and helpe my art-lesse quill,
To mount his fame past Gads, or Shooters hill.

2. Oration.

THrice valorous followers of a foure times thrice treble more valiant Leader, if I had the tongue of Hermes the Prolocutor to the gods, or as many singers as hundre [...]-handed B [...]iareus; if surging Neptune were conuerted into inke, or the rugged ragged face of our ancient mother Tellus were [...]aper, yet could not the verbali volubility, or elocution of my voyce, nor the agility, dexterity, or facility of my hands, nor the spacious, vnmeasurable, numberlesse white innocent paper; no none of all these could either speake, write, or by a­ny other meanes declare, or make a true ex­planation of the reuerence I beare to your Lordship, and the deep heart-gnawing contri­tion, [Page 80] that lyes congealed or conglutinated to my heart. Then, since out of the imbecillity of my rashnesse, and the debility of my capacity, I was so farre transported beyond the bounds of patience: in all humility, with a minde deiected, with hands erected, with knees ge­nuflected, with a heart affected, and with a whole microcosme subiected. I beg your Lord­ships gracelesse fauours, that although my crime is vnmeasurable, yet I hope your Lord­ship will not forget to become miserable.

No sooner was this last Oration vtterd, b [...] that my Lord and all his counsaile mutterd to vnhang Thomas that had talked so wisely.

Epilogue to M r Coriat.

Thus to the Ocean of thy boundlesse fame,
I consecrate these rude vnpolish'd lines,
To thee whose Muse can men and monsters tame,
Whose wit the vault of wisdome vndermines.
Whose poudered phrases with combustions flame,
Like Glo-wormes in the darkest darke doe shine.
To them in all Sir reuerence, I submit,
Thou mir'd admired Capcase, cramd with wit.
FINIS.

MASTER THOMAS CORIAT TO HIS FRIENDS IN ENGLAND SENDS GREETING, From Agra, the Capitall City of the Dominion of the Great MOGOLL in the Easterne India.

Printed according to the true Copie of the Letter written with his owne hand in the Persian paper, and sent home in the good Ship called the Globe, belonging to the Company of East India Merchants:

With an addition of 200. Verses written by I. T. that like a Gentleman Vsher goes bare before his pragmaticall Prose, in commendation of his Trauels.

SOme may perhaps suppose this Prose is mine,
But all that know thee, will be sworne 'tis thine:
For (as 'twas said b' a learned Cambridge Scholler)
(Who knows the stile, may smel it by the Collet
The Prose (I sweare) is Coriats, he did make it,
And who dares claime it from him, let him take it.

Certaine Verses in commendations of this mirrour of foot­manship, this Catholique or vniuersall Traueller, this European, Asian, African Pilgrime, this well letterd, well litterd discouerer and Cosmographicall describer Master Thomas Coriat of Odcombe.

O Thou, whose sharpe toes cut the Globe in quarters,
Mongst Iews & Greeks & tyrannizing Tartars:
Whose glory through the vasty Welkin rumbles,
And whose great Acts more then mine Muses mumbles,
Whose rattling Fame Apollo's daughters thunders,
Midst Africk monsters, and mongst Asian wonders;
Accept these footed Verses I implore thee,
That here (Great Footman) goe on foot before thee:
[Page 81]To [...]g thy praise I would my Muse inforce,
[...] that (alas) she is both harsh and hoarse:
And therefore pardon this my Loues Epistle,
For though she cannot sing, I'l make her whistle.

IN PRAISE OF THE AVTHOR MASTER THOMAS CORIAT.

THou that the world with pleasures ful hast pleasur'd,
And out of measure many kingdomes measur'd.
Whilst men (like swine) doe in their vices wallow,
And not one dares for's eares thy steps to follow;
Not one within the Compasse of the Cope,
Like thee that dares suruay the Horoscope:
For who is he that dares call it a lye,
That thou hast trotted into Italie?
By th'edge of France, and skirts of Spaine th'ast rambled;
Through Belgia & through Germany th'ast ambled.
And Denmarke, Sweden, Norway, Austria,
Pruce, Poland Hungary, Musconia,
With Thracia, and the land of merry Greekes,
All these and more applaud thee, that who seekes
Vpon the top of Mount Olympus front,
Perhaps may see thy name insculp'd vpon't.
And he that durst detract thy worth in Europe,
I wish he may be hang'd vp in a new rope.
It were a world of businesse to repeat
Thy walkes through both the Asiaes, lesse & great,
Whereas (no doubt) but thou hast tane suruay
Of China and the kingdome of Ca [...]y,
Th' East Indies, Persia, Parthia, Media,
Armenia, and the great Ass-yria,
Caldea, Iurie, (if we not mistake vs)
Thou hast o'r-look'd the Sea call'd Mortuus Lacus.
And I durst venter somewhat for a wager,
Thou hast seene Ionia, Lidia, Misia Maior,
Old Iliums Ruins, and the wracks of Priam,
But of Inuention I (alas) so dry am,
I beat my braines and with outragious thumping,
My lines fall from my pen with extreme pumping,
Auaunt, dull Morpheus, with thy leaden spirit,
Can matter want of him that wants no merit?
As he through Syria and Arabia's coasting,
My lines from Asia into Africke poasting,
I'l follow him alongst the Riuer Nilus,
In Egypt, where false Crocodiles beguile vs.
Through Mauritania to the towne of Dido,
That flew her selfe by power of god Cupido
The Kingdomes vnsuruaid he'l not leaue one
From Zona Foride, to the Frozen Zone.
With Prester Iohn in AEthiopia,
And th'ayrie Empire of Eutopia.

A SHORT DESCRIPTION OF THE LONGING desire that AMERICA hath to entertaine this vnmatchable Perambulator.

AMerica, A merry K, Peru.
Vnhappy all in hauing not thy view:
Virginia of thy worth doth onely heare,
And longs the weight of thy foot-steps to beare:
Returne thee, O returne thee quickly than,
And see the mighty Court of Powhatan;
Then shall great Volumes with thy Trauels swell,
And Fame ring lowder then Saint Pulchers Bell.
Then maist thou (if thou please) despight the Deuil,
End thy good daies within the Towne of Euill.
And then at Odcombe thou entomb'd maist be,
Where Trauellers may come thy shrine to see,
By which the Sexton may more money get,
Then Mecaes Priests doe gaine by Mahomet.
These Letters following, which thou didst subscribe
Vnto thy Mother and th' Odcombian Tribe,
Declare thy Art, and also whence thou art,
And whence, from thence thy purpose is to part.
Thy learn'd Oration to the mighty Mogull,
All men thereby may see if thou beest no gull,
Tis so compactly and exactly writ,
It shewes an extraordinary wit.
For write thou what thou please, ('tis thy good lot)
Men like it, though they vnderstand it not.

A LITTLE REMEMBRANCE OF HIS VARIETY OF TONGVES, AND Politicke forme of Trauell.

A Very Babel of confused Tongues,
Vnto thy little Micr [...]cosms belongs,
That to what place socuer thou doest walke,
Thou wilt lost nothing through the want of talke.
For thou canst kisse thy hand, and make a legge,
And wisely canst in any language begge:
And sure to beg 'tis policy (I note)
It sometimes saues the cutting of thy throat:
For the worst thiefe that euer liu'd by stealth,
Will neuer kill a begger for his wealth.
But who is't but thy wisedome doth admire,
That doth vnto such high conceits aspire?
Thou tak'st the bounty of each bounteous giuer,
And drink'st the liquor of the running riuer:
Each Kitchin where thou com'st, thou hast a Cook,
Thou neuer runst on score vnto the Brooke;
For if thou didst, the Brook and thou wouldst gree,
Thou runst from it, and it doth run from thee.
In thy returne from Agra and Assmere,
By thy relation following doth appeare,
That thou dost purpose learnedly to fling
A rare Oration to the Persian King.
Then let the idle world prate this, and that,
The Persian King will giue thee (God knows what.)
And furthermore to me it wondrous strange is,
How thou dost meane to see the Riuer Ganges,
With Tigris, Euybrates, and Nimrode Babel,
And the vnhappy place where Cain slew Abel.
That if thou were in Hebrew circumcised,
The Rabbyes all were wondrous ill aduised;
Nay more they were all Coxcombs, all stark mad,
To thinke thou wert of any Tribe but Gad.
Sure, in thy youth thou at'st much running fare,
As Trotters, Neates-feet, and the swift-foot Hare,
And so by inspiration fed it bred
Two going feet to beare one running head.
Thou filst the Printers Presse with griefe & mourning,
Still gaping, and expecting thy returning:
All Pauls Church-yard is fild with melancholly,
Not for the want of bookes, or wit; but folly
It is for them, to greeue too much for thee,
For thou wilt come when thou thy time shalt see.
But yet at one thing much my Muse doth muse,
Thou dost so many commendations vse
Vnto thy mother, and to diuers friends,
Thou hast remembred many kind commends,
And till the last, thou didst forget thy Father,
I know not why, but this conceit I gather,
That as men sitting at a seast to eat,
Begin with Beefe, Porke, Mutton, and such meat,
And when their stomacks are a little cloyd,
This first course then the Voyder doth auoyd:
The anger of their hunger being past,
The Pheasant and the Partridge comes at last.
This (I imagine) in thy minde did fall,
To note thy Father last to close vp all.
First to thy Mother here thou dost commend,
And lastly to thy Father thou dost send:
Shee may command in thee a Filiall awe,
But he is but thy Father by the Law.
To heare of thee, mirth euery heart doth cheere,
But we should laugh out-right to haue thee heere.
For who is it that knowes thee but would chuse,
Farther to haue thy presence then thy newes.
Thou shew'st how wel thou setst thy wits to work,
In tickling of a misbeleeuing Turke:
He call'd thee Giaur, but thou so well didst answer
(Being hot and fierie, like to crabbed Caucer)
That if he had a Turke' of ten pence bin,
Thou toldst him plaine the errors he was in;
His Alkaren, his Moskyes are whim-whams,
False bug-beare bables, fables all that dams,
Slights of the Diuell, that bring perpetuall woe,
Thou wast not mealy mouth'd to tell him so,
And when thy talke with him thou didst giue ore,
As wise he parted as he was before:
His ignorance had not the power to see
Which way, or how to edifie by thee:
But with the Turke (thus much I build vpon)
If words could haue done go [...]d, it had beene done.

The superscription, Sent from Azmere, the Court of the great and mightiest Monarch of the East, called the great MOGVLL in the Easterne India: To be conuaid To my deare and louing Mother, M rs Garthered Coriat, at her house in the Towne of Euill in Somersetshire. I pray you deliuer this letter at Gerards Hall, to Christopher Guppie, a Carrier, (if he be yet liuing) or else to some other honest trusty Messenger, to be conuaid with all conuenient speed to the place aforesaid.

MASTER THOMAS CORIATS COMMENDATIONS TO HIS friends in England. From Agra, the Capitall City of the Dominion of the Great MOGOLL in the Easterne India, the last of October, 1616.

Most deare and welbeloued Mother,

THough I haue superscribed my letter from Azmere, the Court of the greatest Monarch of the East, called the Great Mo­goll in the Eastern India, which I did to this end, that those that haue the charge of conueiance thereof, perceiuing such a title, may be the more care­full and diligent to conuey it safely to your hands: yet in truth the place from which I wrote this letter, is Agra, a City in the said Eastern India, which is the Metropolitan of the whole Dominion of the foresaid King Mogoll, and tenne daies iourny from his Court at the said Azmere. From the same Azmere I depar­ted the 12 day of September, An. 1616, after my [...]bode there 12 moneths and 60 daies; which though I confesse it were a too long time to remaine in one and the selfesame place, yet for two principall causes it was very requisite for me to remaine there some reasonable time: first, to learne the languages of those Coun­tries, through which I am to passe betwixt the bounds of the Territories of this Prince and Christendome, namely these three, the Persian, Turkish, and Arab: which I haue in some com­petent measure attained vnto by my labour and industry at the said Kings Court, matters as auaileable vnto me as mony in my purse, as being the chiefest or rather onely meane to get me mony, if I should happen to be destitute: a matter very incidentall to a poore Footman Pilgrim, as my selfe in these heathen and Ma­hometan Countries through which I trauell: Secondly, that by the helpe of one of those languages, I meane the Persian, I might both [Page 84] procure vnto my selfe accesse vnto the King, and bee able to expresse my mind vnto him a­bout the matter for the which I should haue occasion to discourse with him. These were the reasons that moued me so long to tarry at the Mogols Court, during which time I abode in the house of the English Merchants my deare Countrimen, not spending one little peece of mony either for diet, washing, lod­ging, or any other thing. And as for the Persi­an tongue, which I studied very earnestly, I at­tained to that reasonable skill, and that in a fewe moneths, that I made an Oration vnto the King before many of his Nobles in that language, and after I had ended the same, dis­coursed with his Maiesty also in that tongue very readily and familiarly; the Copy of which speech, though the tongue it selfe will seeme to an Englishman very strange and vn­couth, as hauing no kind of affinity with any of our Christian languages, I haue for nouelty sake written out in this letter, together with the translation thereof in English, that you may shew it to some of my learned friends of the Clergy, and also of the Temporalty in Euil, and elswhere, who belike, will take some plea­sure in reading so rare and vnusuall a tongue as this is. The Persian is this that followeth.

The Copie of an Oration that I made in the Persian tongue, to the Great Mogoll, before diuers of his Nobles.

HAzaret Aallum pennah salamet, fooker Daru­ces ve tehaungeshta hast am kernia emadam az wellagets door, ganne az mulk Inglizan: ke kessana­ion petheē mushacas cardand ke wellagets, mazcoor der akers magrub bood, ke mader hamma iezzaerts dunmast. Sabebbe amadane mari mia boosti char cheez ast au val be dedane mobarreckdeedars. Haza­ret ke seete caramat ba hamma Trankestan reeseedast ooba tamam mulk Musulmanan der sheenedan awsaffe. Hazaret daueeda amadam be deedane a­st awne akdas mushar af geshtans duum bray deedane feelbay Hazaret, kin chunm ianooar der heech mulk ne dedam seu in bray deedane nauswer dary ace shu [...] ­ma Ganga, ke Serdare hamma daryaba dumiest. Chaharum cen ast, keyec ferm awne alishaion amayet fermoy and, ke betwanam der wellayetts Vzbeck raf­tan ba shahre Samarcand, bray Zeerat cardan cab­bre mobarrec Saheb crawncab awsaffe tang oe mosa­chere oo der tamans aallum meshoor ast belkder wel­lagette Vzbec cencader meshoor neest chunan cheder mulc Iuglisan ast digr, bishare eshteeac darambe deedane mobarrec mesare Saheb crawnca bray [...]n saheb, che awne samanche focheer de shabr st [...]l [...]l boodam, ycaiaeb cohua amarat deedam derm [...]n yecush bawg nasdec sbaht mascoor coia che pa [...]a [...], Eezawiawn che namesh Manuel bood che Sa [...] crawnea cush mehmannec aseem cards bood, be [...]d [...] gristane Sulten Baiasetra as iange aseem che s [...] bood nas dec shahre Bursa, coimache Saheb cra [...] Sultan Baiasetra de Zenicera tell aio bestand, cod [...] cafes nahadond cen char chees meera as mulche m [...] ­ium baneed tamia, as mulc Room oo Arrac pee [...] geshta, as door der cen mulc reseedam, che ch [...]r b [...] ­sar pharsang raw dared, beshare derd co mo [...] casheedam che heech ches der een dunnia cenc [...]n mohuet ne casheedast bray deedune mobarrec ded [...]s Hasereret own roos che be tacte shaugh ne shaugh [...] musharaf fermoodand.

The English of it is this.

LOrd * Protector of the world, all haile to you: I am a poore Traueller and world­seer, which am come hither from a farre coun­try, namely England, which ancient Histori­ans thought to haue beene situated in the far­the [...] bounds of the West, and which is the Queene of all the Ilands in the world. The cause of my comming hither is for foure re­spects. First, to see the blessed face of your Ma­iesty, whose wonderfull fame hath resounded ouer all Europe & the Mahometan Countries. When I heard of the fame of your Maiesty, I [Page 85] hastened hither with speed, and trauelled very cheerefully to see your glorious Court. Se­condly, to see your Maiesties Elephants, which kind of beasts I haue not seene in any other countrey. Thirdly, to see your famous Riuer Ganges, which is the Captaine of all the Riuers of the world. The fourth is this, to intreat your Maiesty that you would vouchsafe to grant me your gracious Passe, that I may tra­vell into the Country of Tartaria to the City of Samarcand, to visit the blessed Sepulcher of the Lord of the Corners (this is a title that is giuen to Tamberlaine in this Country in that Persian language: and whereas they call him the Lord of the Corners, by that they mean that he was Lord of the corners of the world, that is, the highest and supreme Monarch of the Vniuerse:) whose fame by reason of his wars and victories; is published ouer the whole world: perhaps he is not altogether so famous [...]n his own Country of Tartaria, as in England. Moreouer, I haue a great desire to see the bles­sed Toombe of the Lord of the Corners for this cause; for that when I was at Constantinople, I saw a notable old building in a pleasant gar­den neere the said City, where the Christian Emperor that was called Emanuel, made a [...]umptuous great Banquet to the Lord of the Corners after he had taken Sultan Baiazet in letters of Gold, and put him in a cage of Iron. These foure causes moued me to come out of by natiue. Counrrey thus farre, hauing tra­uelled a foot through Turkie and Persia; so far haue I traced the world into this Countrey, that my pilgrimage hath accomplished three thousand miles, wherin I haue sustained much [...]bour and toyle, the like whereof no mortall [...]an in this World did euer performe, to see [...]e blessed face of your Maiesty, since the first day that you were inaugurated in your glori­ous Monarchall throne.

After I had ended my speech, I had some [...]ort discourse with him in the Persiā tongue, [...]ho amongst other things told me, that con­cerning my trauell to the City of Samarcand, [...] was not able to doe me any good, because [...]here was no great amity betwixt the Tarta­ [...]an Princes and himselfe, so that his com­mendatory letters would doe mee no good [...] Also he added, that the Tartars did so deadly hate all Christians, that they would certaine­ly kill them when they came into their Coun­trey. So that he earnestly disswaded me from the iourney, if I loued my life and welfare; at last he concluded his discourse with me by a summe of mony that he threw downe from a window thorow which he looked out, into a sheete tied vp by the foure corners, and han­ging very neere the ground, a hundred pieces of siluer, each worth two shillings sterling, which counteruailed ten pounds of our Eng­lish mony: this businesse I carried so secretly by the helpe of my Persian, that neither our English Ambassadour, nor any other of my Countrymen (sauing one special, priuate, and intrinsicall friend) had the least inkling of it, till I had throughly accomplished my designe: for I well knew that our Ambassadour would haue stopped and Barracadoed all my procee­ding therein, if he might haue had any notice thereof, as indeed he signified vnto mee after I had effected my proiect, alleaging this for­sooth for his reason why he would haue hin­dred me, because it would redound some­what to the dishonour of our Nation, that one of our Countrey should present himselfe in that beggerly and poore fashion to the King, out of an insinuating humour to craue money of him. But I answered our Ambassadour in that stout and resolute manner after I had en­ded my businesse, that hee was contented to cease nibbling at me: neuer had I more need of money in all my life then at that time: for in truth I had but twenty shillings sterling left in my purse, by reason of a mischance I had in one of the Turkes Cities called Emert in the country of Mesopotamia, where a miscreant Turke stripped me of almost all my monyes, according as I wrote vnto you in a very large letter the last yeere, which I sent from the Court of this mighty Monarch by one of my Countrymen that went home by Sea in an English shippe laden with the commodities of this India: which letter I hope came to your hands long since. After I had beene with the King, I went to a certain Noble and generous [Page 86] Christian of the Armenian race, two dayes iourney from the Mogols court, to the end to obserue certaine remarkeable matters in the same place, to whom, by meanes of my Per­sian tongue, I was so welcome; that hee enter­tained me with very ciuill & courteous com­plement, and at my departure gaue mee very bountifully twenty pieces of such kind of mo­ny as the King had done before, counteruay­ling forty shillings sterling, About ten dayes after that, I departed from Azmere the court of the Mogoll Prince, to the end to begin my Pilgrimage after my long rest of fourteene moneths backe againe into Persia, at what time our Ambassadour gaue mee a piece of Gold of this Kings Coyne worth foure and twenty shillings, which I will saue (if it bee possible) till my ariuall in England: so that I haue receiued for beneuolences since I came into this countrey, twenty markes sterling, sa­uing two shillings eight pence, and by the way vpon the confines of Persia, a little before I came into this country, three and thirty shil­lings foure pence in Persian money of my La­dy Sherly: a [...] this present I haue in the City of Agra, where-hence I wrote this letter, about twelue pounds, sterling, which according to my manner of liuing vpon the way at two pence sterling a day (for with that proportion I can liue pretty well, such is the cheapnesse of all eateable things in Asia; drinkable things costing nothing, for seldome doe I drinke in my pilgrimage any other liquor then pure water) will maintaine me very competently three yeeres in my trauell with meat, drinke, and clothes. Of these gratuities which haue beene giuen me, willingly would I send you some part, as a demonstration of the filiall loue and affection which euery child bred in ciui­lity and humility, ought to performe to his louing and good mother: but the distance of space betwixt this place and England, the ha­zard of mens liues in so long a iourney, and al­so the infidelity of many men, who though they liue to come home, are vnwilling to ren­der an account of the things they haue recei­ued, doe not a little discourage mee to send any precious token vnto you; but if I liue to come one day to Constantinople againe (for thither I doe resolue to goe once more by the grace of Christ, and therehence to take my passage by land into Christendome ouer re­nouned Greece) I will make choice of some substantiall and faithfull Countriman, by whom I will send some prety token, as an ex­pression of my dutifull and obedient respect vnto you, I haue not had the oportunity to see the King of Persia as yet since I came into this country, but I haue resolued to goe to him when I come next into his Territories, and to search him out wheresoeuer I can find him in his Kingdome; for seeing I can discourse with him in his Persian tongue, I doubt not but that going vnto him in the forme of a Pil­grime, hee will not onely entertaine me with good words, but also bestow some worthy re­ward vpon me beseeming his dignity and per­son; for which cause I am prouided before­hand with an excellent thing written in the Persian-tongue, that I meane to present vnto him: and thus I hope to get beneuolences of worthy persons, to maintaine me in a compe­tent manner in my whole pilgrimage till come into England, which I hold to be as lau­dable and a more secure course, then if I did continuall carry store of mony about mee, In the letter which I wrote vnto you by an Eng­lish ship the last yeere, I made relation vnto you both of my iourney from the once holy Hierusalem hither, and of the state of this Kings Court, and the Customes of this Country, therefore I hold it superfluous to repeat the same things againe: but what the Countryes are, that I meane to see betwixt this and Christendome, and how long time I will spend in each country, I am vnwilling to ad­uertise you of at this present, desiring rather to signifie that vnto you after I haue perfor­med my designe then before; howbeit in few words, I will tell you of certaine Cities of great renoune in former times, but now partly ruined, that I resolue (by Gods helpe) to see in Asia, where I now am, namely, ancient Ba­bylon and Nimrods Tower, some few miles from Niniue, and in the same the Sepulcher of the Prophet Ionas, spacious and goodly; C [...] [Page 87] in Egypt, heretofore Memphis, vpon the famous Riuer Nilus, where Moses, Aaron, and the chil­dren of Israel liued with K. Pharaoh, whose rui­ned Palace is shewed there till this day, and a world of other moueable things as memora­ble as any City of the whole world yeeldeth, sauing onely Ierusalem: but in none of these, or any other Cities of note, doe I determine to linger as I haue done in other places, as in Constantinople and Azmere, in this Easterne In­dia, onely some few daies will I tarry in a prin­cipall citie of fame, to obserue euery princi­pall matter there, and so be gone. In this ci­ty of Agra, where I am now, I am to remaine about 6. weeks longer, to the end to expect an excellent opportunity, which then wil offer it selfe vnto me, to goe to the famous riuer Gan­ges about 5. dayes iourney from this, to see a memorable meeting of the gentle people of this countrey, called Baicans, whereof about foure hundred thousand people goe thither of purpose to bathe and shaue themselues in the Riuer, and to sacrifice a world of gold to the same Riuer, partly in stamped money, and partly in massie great lumpes and wedges, throwing it into the Riuer as a sacrifice, and doing other strange Ceremonies most wor­thy the obseruation: such a notable spectacle it is, that no part of all Asia, neither this which is called the great Asia, nor the lesser, which is now called Natolia, the like is to be seene. This shew doe they make once euery yeere, comming thither from places almost a thou­sand miles off, and honour their Riuer as their God, Creator, and Sauiour; superstition and impiety most abominable in the highest de­gree of these brutish Ethnicks, that are aliens from Christ and the common-wealth of Isra­el. After I have seene this shew, I will with all expedition repaire to the city of Lahore, twen­ty dayes iourney from this, and so into Persia, by the helpe of my blessed Christ.

Thus haue I imparted vnto you some good accidents that happened vnto me, since I wrote a letter vnto you the last yeere from the Kings Court, and some little part of my resolution for the disposing of a part of my time of a­bode in Asia. Therefore now I will [...]a [...] to a conclusion; the time I cannot lia [...] when I shall come home, but as my merciful God and Sauiour shall dispose of it. A long rabble or commendations like to that which I wrote in my last letter to you. I hold not so requisite to make at this present: Therefore with remem­brance of some few friends names, I will, but vp my present Epistle. I pray you recommend me first in Odcombe to Master Gallop, and euery good body of his family, if hee liueth yet, to Master B [...]r [...]b, his wife, and all his family, to all the Knights, William Chum, Iohn Selly, Hugh Donne, and their wiues, to Master Atkins, and his wife at Norton. I pray you commend mee in Euill to these, to old Master Seward, if hee liueth, his wife and children; the poore wi­dow Darby, old Master Dyer, and his Sonne Iohn, Master Ewins old and young, with their wiues, Master Phelpes and his wife, M. Starre and his wife, with the rest of my good friends there, (I had almost forgotten your husband) to him also, to Ned Barbor and his wife, to William Ienings: commend me also I pray you, and that with respectfull termes, to the godly and reuerent fraternity of Preachers, that eue­ry second Friday meet at a religious exercise at Euill, at the least if that exercise doth con­tinue, pray read this letter to them, for I thinke they will be well pleased with it, by reason of the nouelties of things. And so final­ly, I commit you, and all them, to the blessed protection of Almighty God.

From Agra the Capitall City of the Domi­nion of the great Mogoll, in the Easterne India the last of October 1616.

Your dutifull, louing and obedient Sonne, now a desolate Pilgrim in the World, THOMAS CORIAT.

The Copy of a speech that I made to a Mahometan in the Italian tongue.

THe Copie of a speech that I made extem­pore in the Italian tongue to a Mahometan at a City called Moltan in the Eastern India, two daies iourny beyond the famous Riuer Indus, which I haue passed, against Mahomet and his accursed Religion, vpon the occasion of a discourtesie offered vnto me by the said Mahometan, in calling mee Giaur, that is, infi­dell, by reason that I was a Christian: the rea­son why I spake to him in Italian, was because he vnderstood it, hauing been taken slaue for many yeeres since by certaine Florentines in a Gally wherein he passed from Constantinople towards Alexandra, but being by them in­terrupted by the way, he was carried to a City called Ligerne in the Duke of Florences Domi­nions, where after two yeeres hee had learned good Italian, but he was an Indian borne and brought vp in the Mahometan Religion, I pronounced the speech before an hundred people, whereof none vnderstood it but him­selfe, but hee afterward told the meaning of some part of it as farre as he could remember it, to some of the others also. If I had spoken thus much in Turky, or Persia against Mahomet, they would haue rosted me vpon a spit; but in the Mogols Dominions a Christian may speake much more freely then hee can in any other Mahometan Country in the world. The speech was this, as I afterward translated it in­to English.

BVt I pray thee tell me thou Mahometan, dost thou in sadnes call mee Giaur? That I doe, quoth he, Then (quoth I) in very sober sadnes I retort that shamefull word in thy throate, and tell thee plainly that I am a Mu­sulman, and thou art a Giaur. For by that Arab word Musulman, thou dost vnderstand that which cannot be properly applied to a Maho­metan, but onely to a Christian, so that I doe consequently inferre that there are two kindes of Muselmen, the one [...]n Orthomusulman, that is, a true Musulman which is a Christian, and the other a Pseudo-musulman, that is, a false Mu­sulman which is a Mahometan. What thy Mahomet was from whom thou dost deriue thy Religion, assure thy selfe I know better then any one of the Mahometans amongst many millions: yea all the particular circum­stances of his life and death, his Nation, his Parentage, his driuing Camels through E­gypt, Syria, and Palestina, the marriage of his Mistris, by whose death hee raised himselfe from a very base and contemptible estate, to great honour and riches, his manner of coo­zening the sottish people of Arabia, partly by a tame Pigeon that did flye to his eare for meat, and partly by a tame Bull that he fed by hand euery day, with the rest of his actions both in peace and warre: I know aswell as if I had liued in his time, or had beene one of his neighbours in Mecca, the truth whereof if thou didst know aswell, I am perswaded thou woul­dest spit in the face of thy Alcaron, and tram­ple it vnder thy feet, and bury it vnder a la [...]e, a booke of that strange and weake matter, that I my selfe (as meanly as thou dost see mee at­tired now) haue already written two better bookes (God be thanked) and will here after this, (by Gods gracious permssion) write a­nother better and truer, yea I would haue thee know (thou Mahometan) that in that renouned Kingdome of England where I was borne, learning doth so flourish, that there are many thousand boyes of sixteene yeeres of age, that are able to make a more learned booke thea [...] thy Alcason, neither was it (as thou and the rest of you Mahometans doe generally be­leeue) composed wholy by Mahomet, for hee was of so dull a wit, as hee was not able to make it without the helpe of another, namely a certaine Renegado Monke of Constantinople, called Sergis. So that his Alcoran was like an [Page 89] arrow drawne out of quiuer of another man. I perceiue thou dost wonder to see mee so much inflamed with anger, but I would haue thee consider, it is not without great cause I am so moued: for what greater indig­nity can there be offered to a Christian which is an Arthomusulman, then to bee called Gtaur by a Giaur? for Christ (whose Religion I pro­fesse) is of that incomparable dignity, that as thy Mahomet is not worthy to bee named that yeere wherein my blessed Christ is, so neither is his Alcoran worthy to bee named that yeere wherein the * Iuieel of my Christ is. I haue obserued among the Mahometans such a foo­lish: forme of prayer euer since my departure from Spas [...]an, (which I confesse was no nouelty vnto me, for that I had obserued the like be­fore both in Constantinople and diuers other Turkish Cities) that what with your vaine repetitions and diuers other prophane foole­ries contained therein, I am certaine your prayers doe euen stinke before God, and are of no more force then the cry of thy Camell when thou doest lade or vnlade him: But the prayers of Christians haue so preuailed with God, that in time of drought they haue ob­tained conuenient aboundance of raine, and in time of pestilence a suddai [...]e cessation from the plague, such an effect of holy and seruent prayer as neuer did the * Scofferalahs, or the Allernissel allow of any Mahometan produce: yet must wee, whose prayers like a sweete smelling sacrifice are acceptable to God, bee esteemed Giaurs by those whose prayers are odious vnto his Diuine Maiesty: O timos! O maners! Now as I haue told thee the diffe­rence betwixt the effect of our Christian and your Mahometan prayers, so I pray thee obserue another difference betwixt you and vs, that I will presently intimate vnto thee: thou by the obseruation of the Law of thy ridicu­lous Alcaron dost hope for Paradise, where­in thy Master Mahomet hath promised Riuers of Rice, and to Virgins the imbracing of An­gels vnder the shaddowe of spacious Trees, though in truth that Paradise be nothing else then a filthy quagmire so full of stinking dung hils, that a man cannot walke two paces there, but hee shall stumble at a dung hill and defile himselfe, but where this Paradise is, not one amongst a thousand of you knoweth; therfore I will tell thee, it standeth in a Coun­try situate betwixt Heauen and Earth, cal­led Vtopia, whereof there is mention in the third booke of thy Alcaron and in the seuen and thirty Asaria, but expressed with those mysticall and obscure termes, that is very dif­ficult to vnderstand it, for this Vtopian Para­dise I say, as the reward of all your superstiti­ous mumbling in your prayers, and the often ducking downe of your heads when you kisse the ground, with such a deuout humility for­sooth, doe you Mahometans hope in another world: But wee Christians hope to liue with God and his blessed Angels for euer and eue [...] in Heauen, as being a proper and peculiar in­heritance purchased vnto vs by the precious bloud of our Christ, yet must wee bee reputed Giaurs by those that are Giaurs? One thing more will I tell thee (O thou Mahometan) and so I will conclude this redious speech, where­unto thy discourtious calling of me Giaur hath inforced mee, and I prethee obserue this my conclusion.

Learning (which is the most precious Iew­ell that man hath in this life, by which hee at­taineth to the knowledge of diuine and hu­mane things) commeth to man either by re­uelation which we otherwise call inspiration, or by industry: Learning by reuelation I call that which God doth infuse from aboue by his speciall grace, vnto those whom he will vse as the instruments of his glory, who without labour or trauell doe aspire to a most eminent degree of knowledge. Learning by industry I call that, which a man doth purchase to himselfe by continuall writing and reading, by practice and meditation: now by neither of these meanes haue the Mahometans acqui­red any meane, much lesse any singular lear­ning, for as Mahomet himselfe was a man of a very superficiall and meane learning, so neuer [Page 90] was there any one of his Disciples in any part of the world that was indued with any pro­found knowledge: but wee Christians by the one and the other meane, haue attained to the most exquisite science that can be incident to man: *some of our men that neuer were brought vp in Studies, hauing beene so expert in a generall learning (onely by Gods speciall illumination) as those haue spent forty yeeres in the practice thereof, and others by conti­nuall practice of writing and reading, haue beene so excellent, that they became the very Lampes and Stars of the Countries wherein they liued. These things being so, it cannot possibly come to passe, that the omnipotent God should deale so partially with mankinde, as to reueale his will to a people, altogether misled in ignorance and blindnes as you Ma­hometans are, and conceale it from vs Christi­ans that bestowe all our life time in the prac­tice of diuine and humane disciplines, and in the ardent inuocation of Gods holy Name, with all sincerity and purity of heart. Goe to then thou Pseudo-musulman, that is, thou false­beleeuer, since by thy iniurious imputation laid vpon mee, in that thou calledst mee Giaur, thou hast prouoked mee to speake thus. I pray thee, let this mine answer bee a warning for thee, not to scandalize mee in the like manner any more; for the Christian Religion which I professe, is so deare and tender vnto mee, that neither thou nor any other Mahometan shall scotfree call mee Giaur, but that I will quit you with an answer much to the wonder of those Mahometans.

Dixi.

I Pray you, Mother, expect no more letters from me after this, till my arriual in Christendome; because I haue resolued to write no more, while I am in the Mahometans Countries, thinking that it will bee a farre greater comfort, both to you, and to all my friends whatsoeuer, to heare newes that I haue ac­complished my trauells in Mahometisine, then that I am comming vp and downe, to and fro in the same, without any certainty of an issue thereof; therefore I pray haue patience for a time: about two yeeres and a halfe hence, I hope to finish these Mahometan trauells, and then either from the City of Raguzi in Sclauonia, which is a Christian City, and the first wee enter into Christendome, from those parts of Turky by land neere vnto the same, or from fa­mous Venice, I will very dutifully remember yea againe, with lines full of filiall piety and officious re­spect. I haue written two letters to my Vncle Wil­liams, since I came forth of England, and no more, whereof one from the Mogols Court the last yeere, iust at the same time that I wrote vnto you; and a­nother now, which I sent iointly by the same Mes­senger that carried yours out of India by Sea. Once more I recommend you and all our hearty wel-wil­lers and friends to the gracious tuition of the Lord of Hosts; I pray you remember my duty to Master Hancocke that reuerend and Apostolicall good old man, and his wife, if they are yet liuing; to their Sonnes Thomas and Iohn, and their Wiues.

The Author of the Verse, takes leaue of the Author of the Prose, desiring rather to see him, then to beare from him.

THose Rimes before thy meaning doth vnclose,
Which men perhaps haue blūdred ore in Prose:
And 'tis a doubt to me, whose paines is more,
Thou that didst write, or they that read them o're:
My Scullers muse without or Art or Skill,
In humble seruice (with a Gooses quill)
Hath tane this needlesse, fruitlesse paines for thee,
Not knowing when thoul't doe as much for me.
But this is not the first, nor shall not be
The last (I hope) that I shall write for thee:
For whē newes thou wast drown'd, did hither come,
I wrote a mournefull Epicedium.
[Page 91]And after, when I heard it was a lye,
I wrote of thy suruiuing presently.
Laugh and be fat, the Scullers booke, and this
Shew how my minde to thee addicted is;
My loue thee hath euermore beene such,
That in thy praise I ne'r can write too much:
And much I long to see thee here againe,
That I may welcome thee in such a straine
That shall euen cracke my pulsiue pia mater,
In warbling thy renowne by land and water:
Then shall the Fame which thou hast won on foot,
( Mongst Heathēs, Iews, Turks, Negroes black as soot)
Ride on my best Inuention like an asse,
To the amazement of each Owliglasse.
Till when fare well (if thou canst get good fare)
Content's a feast, although the feast be bare.
Let Eolus and Neptune be combinde,
With Sea auspicious, and officious winde;
In thy returne with speed to blow thee backe,
That we may laugh, lie downe, and mourne in Sacke.
Iohn Taylor.

A Bawd. A vertuous Bawd, a modest Bawd: As Shee Deserues, reproue, or else applaud.

DEDICATED TO THE NEITHER NOBLE OR JGNO­BLE, LORD OR LADY, KIND, OR CRVELL, learned or ignorant, curteous or currish, Christian or Barbarian, Man or Woman, rich or poore: but to all and euery one in generall and particular.

MOnsieur, and Madam Hydra, to your many heads and variety of Censures I haue made bold to dedicate, a poore, harmelesse, modest, honest, and innocent Bawd, I know great persons of worth and honour, are daily so visited with penurious shreds of Schollership, fragments of Hexameters and Penta­meters, scraps of Poetry, the Scum and dreggs of wit, and the froth and lees of wisdome: one salutes my Lords Lordship at Breakefast with a funerall Elegie, lamentably written, and is most miserably rewarded for his kindnesse. Another bunts out his Worships vn­gentlemanly Knighthood (hauing most intolerably belaboured his name with an Acrosticke or Anagram, which out of his vacuity of worthinesse hee rewards with not a peny. A third hath belyed such a Lady or Gentle womans beauty and qualities, in most abominable fashion, setting her forth for faire and vertuous; for the which hee is rewarded according to the subiect [Page 92] hee wrote of, and his owne demerits, with as much as comes to nothing. For these and some e­ther respects, I thought it not fit to desire the patronage of any one person in particular, it being a subiect that is common to all, for all, or any. As men are dispersed uniuersally through the world, so a Bawd, being an vniuersall creature, whose function is publikely scattered, I thought it not pertinent or accommodating, that shee should be priuately protected by any. Therefore at shee hath beene and is for all, so I dedicate her to all, knowing that all are better able to reward the Poet, then one alone. And this is further to aduertise the Reader, that where I doe speake of spirituall Bawds, Bawdry, Adultery or Fornication, that I haue auoyded prophanity, obsee­nity, scurrility, and all manner of inciuilitie or indecency; not meddling with religion at all, b [...]t with a pittifull derision, and merry reprehension explaining the abuses, soppish and sottish cor­ruptions, that like so many Cankers or Caterpillers haue and doe daily eate, consume and pu­trifie both the Puritie and Pietie of that Religion which boasts it selfe to be most Primitiue and Catholike. For the other part of this Booke, or Bawd, shee is altogether ciuill or temporall, be­ing not troubled so much as with one good Ecclesiasticall word, but meerely Paradoxicall; set­ting forth ther are and singular vertues of a Bawd; wherein if any of my Readers can picke any pleasure, it is an apparant signe they haue some wit, and if they reape any profit, let them either thanke me in words, or elsereward mee with silence.

Yours so farre, and no fur­ther then you are mine, IOHN TAYLOR.

A Bawd.

MY Verse is honest, seemely, neat, and cleane,
Yet is my Theame polluted and obsceane:
He touch foule pitch, yet will not be defilde,
My Muse shall wade through dirt, and not be soild.
The Sun on noysome Dunghils shines as well,
As on faire flowers that doe fragrant smell:
The Ayre by which wee liue, doth euery where
Breathe still alike vpon the poore and Peere.
The Sea beares many an old despised *Boat,
Yet on the Sea the best ships doe but float,
And Earth allowes to all her scatterd brood,
Food, Clothes and lodging, to the bad and good.
Yet Sun, Ayre, Sea, nor Earth receiue disgrace
By any bounty which they giue the base.
Euen so my Muse, (free from all foule intetnts)
Doth take e [...]ple from the Elements,
In laying better studies by a while,
And in clean fashion write a beastly stile:
Yet will I not my sense or meaning marre,
With tearmes obscure, or phrases fetcht from farre,
Nor will I any way equiuocate,
With words sophisticall, or intricate,
Vtopian-Fustianisme, poore heathen Greeke,
To put my Readers wits to groape and seeke.
Small eloquence men must expect from me,
My Schollership will name things as they be.
I thinke it good, plaine English, without fraud,
To call a Spade a Spade, a Bawd a Bawd.
Two little Pamphlets I haue wrote before,
Which I was bold to call a Thiefe, and Whore,
Yet was my Whore so chaste, that shee had not,
From end to end, one foule offensiue spot,
Nor did my Thiefe from any man purloyne,
Or liu'd by filching either goods or coyne.
[Page 93]And now by chance it came into my mind,
That with the Bawd my pen was much behind:
[...]y Where was honest, and my Thiefe was true,
And in this sort Ile giue the Bawd her due.
[...]range fruit from my poore barren labours springs,
[...] modestly must vse immodest things,
[...]Tis somewhat hard, but yet it is no riddle,
All Bawdry doth not breed below the middle.
[...]o many seuerall sorts of Bawdes doe grow,
That where theres not a Bawd, 'tis hard to know.
The first with spirituall Bawdes, whose honour high,
[...]prings from the whoredome of Idolatry.
[...]st but your eyes vpon the Man of Rome,
That stiles himselfe the head of Christendome,
[...]ists vniuersall Vicar, and Vicegerent,
[...] whom fooles thinke the Truth is so inherent,
That he can soules to Heauen or hell preferre,
And being full of Errours, cannot erre:
And though his witchcraft thousands hath entic'd,
He will be call'd Lieutenant vnto Christ.
How hath that false Conuenticle of Trent,
[...]ade lawes, which God, or good men neuer meant,
Commanding worshipping of stones and stockes,
Of Reliques, dead mens bones, and senslesse blocks,
From which adultrate painted Adoration,
[...]en (worse then stocks or blockes) must seeke sal­uation?
The Soules of men are His that dearly bought them,
And he the onely way to Heauen hath taught them.
And whoso forceth them to false adoring,
[...]s the maine Bawd, vnto this Spirituall Whoring.
Besides, it is apparent, and most cleere,
That hee's the greatest Bawd the Earth doth beare:
For he that tolerates the Stewes erection,
Allowes them Priuiledges and protection,
Shares in the profit of their fordid sweat,
R [...]apes yeerely Pensions and Reuennues great,
Permits the Pole-shorne Fry of Fryers and Monks,
For Annuall stipends to enioy their Punckes.
When * P [...] the third the Romish miter wore,
He had contributary Truls such store,
To fiue and forty thousand they amount,
As then Romes Register gaue true account.
Besides, it was approu'd, the gaine was cleere
[...] Full twenty thousand Duckats euery yeere.
Moreouer, once a Bishop (boasting) said,
He had Ten Thousand Priests that paid
(Some more, some lesse) by way of Rent or fines,
Each a one of them for keeping Concubines.
And he that keepes none, payes as much as he
As for his vse doth keepe one, two, or three.
All's one, the Priests must pay t'augmēt the treasure,
Keepe or not keepe, Whore or not Whore at Pleasure.
Now iudge, good Reader, haue I said amisse, *
Was euer any Bawdry like to this?
Pope a Alexander, of that name the sixt,
With his owne childe incestuously commixt.
And Paul the third (affecting the said Game)
With his owne b daughter did commit the same:
And after with his sister tooke such course,
That he with her did doe as bad or worse.
Iohn the thirteenth, and other more, 'tis plaine,
Haue with their sisters and their daughters laine,
And when their stomackes haue beene gone & past,
To Princes they haue married them at last.
Here's Bawdes of state, of high and mighty place,
Our Turnbull street poore Bawdes to these are base.
But these braue Doings better to disclose,
A little while Ile turne my Verse to Prose.

The forenamed Lucrece being dead, had this Epi­taph bestowed on her, written by Pontanus.

Here lyes Lucrece by name, but Thais in life,
The Popes child, and Spouse, and yet his own sons wife.

Besides, I found a cursed Catalogue of these veneriall Caterpillers, who were supprest with the Monasteries in England, in the time of King Henry the eight, with the number of trugs which each of them kept in those daies, as these; Christopher Iames a Monke of the Or­der of Saint Bennet in Canterburie, had three Whores, all married women: William Abbot of Bristoll, foure: Nicholas VVhyden Priest kept foure in Windsor Castle: in the same place George Whitthorne fiue, Nicholas Spoter fiue, Ro­bert Hunne fiue, Robert Daueson sixe, Richard the Prior of Maidenbeadly fiue; In Shulbred Mona­stery in Chichester Diocesses George Walden the Prior seuen; Iohn Standnep seuen; Nicholas Duke fiue; In Bath Monafterie Richard Lin­coombe seuen, three of them married: Iohn Hill in the Cathedrall Church at Chichester but thirteene; Iohn White Prior of Bermonsey had no more but twenty: all this Rabble was found and known in England; let a man ima­gine then how many were not knowne, and [Page 92] what a goodly brood of barnes were fathered vpon those that neuer begat them: withall, if England were so stored with them, it is not to bee doubted but all the rest of the Christian world did swarme with these lecherous Lo­custs.

Moreouer, much knauery (Bawdery I should say) may bee couered vnder the vaile of Auricular Confession, for the Priest ha­uing a young pretty maid or wife at shrift, wil know her disposition, groape out all her secret conueyances, and craftily vnderfeele her poli­cies, and for a penance for her faults past, shee is inioyned to commit a sinne present. The vnloading of her Conscience (many times) prouing the burthen of her belly Forty weeks after. And in this manner the most zealous Catholike, or the most iealous Italian, may be most dououtly cornuted, vnder the cloake of Confession and Absolution.

Besides, a most pernicious Bawd is hee,
That for poore bscraps, and a bare ten pounds fee,
Dares not his mighty Patron to offend,
Or any way his vices reprehend,
Nor preach 'gainst pride, oppression, vsury,
Dice, drinke or drabbes, vaine oathes or simonie,
Nor Veniall sinne or Mortall, or nothing
That may his Worship in the Withers wring:
But euery way must fit his Text and time,
To leaue vntoucht th' Impropriators crime.
Thus those whose functions Heauen doth dignifie,
(Who should like Trumpets lift thier voyces high)
Are mute and muzzled, for a hireling price,
And so are Bawdes vnto their Patrones vice;
For he's a Bawd who doth his Liuing winne
By hiding, or by flattring peoples sinne.
The *Prince of darknesse, King of Acheron,
Great Emperor of Styx and Phlegeton,
Cocitus Monarch, high and mighty Dis,
Who of Great Limbe-Lake Commander is,
Of Tartary, of Erebus, and all
Those Kingdomes which men Barathrum doe call,
He is the chiefest Bawd, and still he plods
To send vs Whoring after godlesse gods:
And by his sway, and powerfull Instigation,
Hath made the world stark drunk with fornication.
For since the first Creation, neuer was
The least degree of Bawdry brought to passe,
But he began it and contriu'd it still,
He laid the Plot, and did the Act fulfill.
So that of all the Bawdes that euer were,
The Deuill himselfe the bell away doth beare:
Yet all his whoring base Idolatry,
Did seeme Religious zealous sanctitie.

As thus,

He blinded and withdrew people so fa [...] from the seruice and knowledge of the tr [...] God, that they prayed to Pomona for the [...] crease of their fruit, to Ceres for Corne an [...] Graine, to Siluanus for wilde-fowle, to Bac [...] for wine, to Neptune for fish, to Mars for th [...] successe of Warres and Captaines, to Phoebus for Physicke and Musicke, to Saturne for [...] bourers and workmen in husbandry, to Pall [...] for valour, to Minerua for wisdome, to I [...] for men of state and port, to Iuno for Pomp [...] and Iewels, to Vulcan for fire and lightening to Venus for beauty and lasciuious pleasure, to Luna for calmnes and faire weather, to Pl [...] for riches, to Mercury for learning and elo [...] quence, to Flora for flowers, to Proteus for dis­guises, to Pan for Pypers, to Eolus for win [...] and stormes, to Bellona for battels and con­quests, to Lucina for women with child, to Faunus for Goats and Venison, to Cloth [...] for spinning out the threed of life, to Lachesis for wynding or reeling it, and to Atropos for cutting it off: nay he led them into more in­diculous sorts of spirituall adultery, as to wor­ship with religious adoration, Cats, Dogges, Toades, Beetles, Serpents, Fooles, Madme [...], Priuies, Onions, Garlicke, and many other damnable inuentions, not to be numbred.

Neuerthelesse, whosoeuer will but looke into the lying Legend of Golden Gullery, there they shall finde that the poore seduced ignorant Romanists doe imitate all the idola­trous fornication of the Heathen Pagans, and Infidels; and that they put their Hee and Shee Saints, to farre more baser and ignominio [...]s offices, then these vnbeleeuers of former ages did dare to put vpon their (vaine imaginarie) gods, as they make Saint Crespin a Shoomaker, and Saint Roch the Patron Sowters and Cob­lers, they put Saint Wendelin to keepe sheepe, and they make Saint Pelage a Cowheard or Neatheard, Saint Anthony hath the protection [Page 93] of their Swine, Saint Vitus or Vitellus, alias, Saint Calfe, an excellent patron or proctor to cure those that are bitten of a Spider called Tarrantulla, or Phallanx. They ac­knowledge Saint Gertrude for an excel­lent Rat-catcher, and Saint Hubert for a good Dogge-keeper (some say a cunning H [...]isman:) the Smiths must pray to Saint Eloye, the Painters to Saint Luke, the Ba­ [...]ers must inuocate Saint Honore, the Mari­ [...]rs Saint Nicholas, Saint Yue is for the Law­yers, and Saint Anne to finde things that are stolne or lost, whilst Saint Leonard is the onely Saint to set prisoners at liberty, by opening the doores in the night, and make their Shac­ [...]les fall off without any noyse or knocking. Besides, they make Iob a Physician to cure the Pox, when as that foule disease was not known in any part of the world in many hundred yeeres after Iobs daies; for in the yeere 1496 ( Charles the eight being then the French King) the Pox was brought from Naples into France, hauing but a little before beene very thriftily by the Spaniards purchased from the Ameri­cans or West Indians: And therefore they doe Iob wrong to make a Mountebank of him, in ascribing cures to him beyond his skill or knowledge: but all is one for that, he must be content with his office, as Saint Valentine is with the falling sicknesse, Saint Roch with [...]cabbes and scurfes, Saint Schastian with the Plague Saint Eu [...]rope the dropsie, Saint [...], the Gout, Saint Petronella the Ague be any Feuer, Saint Apollonia the Tooth­ [...]ch, * Saint Romane, they say, dispossesseth [...]ine [...]s out of the possessed, and Saint Ma­ [...] is the madde mens Saint to cure the [...]enzie. It is to be doubted that Physicians and Chirurgians haue small takings, where all these skil [...]full Saints are so imployed, except [...]ow and then they get a Patient by chance, when the good Saint is ouer-bus [...]ed, or not at [...]ure.

Moreouer, there is a great contention a­mongst them to what [...], Saint they shall com­mit the keeping of their Ceese: some will haue Saint An [...]och, some Saint G [...]ll [...]ct, and some Saint Fortall: the businesse is very weighty, and requires mature deliberation and ripe iudgement: some there are that would depriue Saint Wendeli [...] (before named) of his keeping Sheepe, and bestow the place vpon Saint Wolfe, which is a very vnsurable name for a Shepheard.

By this which hath beene said, the Reader may perceiue what a cunning Bawd the Deuil is, to adulterate the true seruice of the eternall God with these whorish Inuentions. And so though I could amplifie this point to a larger extent, in describing spirituall Bawdes and Bawdry, yet now I thinke fitting to auoid redi­ousnesse, and to treat of this subiect in other garbes and fashions.

It is reported by Henry Stephens in his Apo­logie or defence of Herodotes, the first Booke, 21. Chapter, page 182. That a merry dis­posed Priest got a pretty lasse behinde the high Altar vpon a Good Friday in the mor­ning, where he thought all the Hee and Shee Saints were contented to keepe Counsell, but it was knowne to the Legate of Auinion (by the intelligence of no Saint) which Legate after hee had wisely considered on what day and time, and in what place the cleanly conueyance was acted, hee out of his charity concluded a Priest to be mortal, and that flesh was fraile, for which respects (vpon pro­mise of amendment) he was absolued and re­leased.

Moreouer, great *Emperours and Kings haue beene Bawdes, as Suelonius Tranquilius writes of Tyberius Cesar, that hee had Cells, Caues, and Vaults in his house, where hee had a nursery of whores, and oftentimes would haue the execrable [...] committed in his presence. The Emperour Domitian followed his admirable example, and Helio­gabolus went so farre beyond them in the art of Bawdry, that hee made Punyes of them both. And of later yeeres a *King of Castile, called Henry the vnable, because [Page 94] hee could not haue a childe by his wife to in­herit after him, he kindly entreated one of his Lords to take the paines to beget an heire for him.

There was a rich Burger of Antwerp, a Mercer by his trade, who was a Bawd to his owne wife (though it was against his will or knowledge) but I blame him not, for I doubt hee hath many more fellowes as innocent and ignorant as himselfe, but this was the case, his wife wearing Corke shooes, was somewhat light-heel'd, and like a foule player at Irish, sometimes shee would beare a man too many, and now and then make a wrong Entrance: The summe was, that shee lou'd a Doctor of Physicke well, and to attaine his company shee knew no better or safer way, then to faine her selfe sicke, that hee vnder the colour of visitati­on might feele her pulses, and apply such cordiall Remedies as might either case or cure her.

In briefe, the Doctor being sent for, comes and finds the Mercer her husband walking in his shop with a neighbour of his, where after a Leash of Congees, and a brace of Baeza los manus, the Mercer told him that his Wife is a languishing sicke woman, and withall entreats him to take the paines to walke vp the staires, and minister some com­fort vnto her: Master Doctor, who knew her disease by the Symptomes, ascends vp into the Chamber to his longing patient, staying an houre with her, applying such di­rections and refections, that her health was vpon the sudden almost halfe recouered; so taking his leaue of her (with promise of often visitation) hee comes downe into the shoppe, where the guiltlesse Bawd her hus­band was, who demanding of the Doctor how all did aboue, truely quoth hee, much better then when I came, but since I went vp, your wife hath had two such strange vio­lent fits vpon her, that it would haue grieued your very heart to haue seene but part of one of them.

I my selfe doe know two men that ligh­ted by chance into one of these houses of iniquitie in Antwerp, and I dare be sworne that they went to commit no Carnall act, nor did commit any; but they perceiuing a pretty painted peece of punks flesh, did suspect in what house they were, the one of them ta­king her by the hand did aske her some que­stions (wherein I thinke was not one word of God) the other impatient that his fellow had ingrost all the familiarity and talke with the wench, begins to stampe, knocke and call, at which the man of the house enters, demanding What doe yee lacke. You base Rascall, quoth the other, haue you no more Whores in your house, must I stand like a Iacke an Apes here empty handed? Good sir, (quoth mine host) be patient, and I will presently send mine owne wife to waite vp­on you.

Nor is the skill and knowledge of a sub­stantiall or Absolute Bawd easily gotten or learned; no my Masters there is more in the matter then so; First, she's a yong pretty Girle, and passeth time away in the instructions, ru­diments and documents of a Whore, till shee hath attained (with many hazards) to the yeeres of 30. or 35. in all which space she hath not spent her time idlely, but hath beene a creature of much vse, hauing for the com­mon cause aduentur'd the blemmish of her Reputation, the rigour of the Lawes, as whip­pings, Penance, Imprisonments, fines, fees to Iustices Clarks, Beadles, and such inferiour Reliques of Authority. Besides her valorous combats and conflicts with diseases, (where­in shee often approues her selfe one of the profitablest members in a Common-wealth to Physitians and Chyrurgians) hauing (I say) passed all these degrees with much perill and i [...]opardy of her body, *then looke higher and thinke but on the shipwrake of her soule, (an aduenture of a greater price then shee's aware of) then towards the de­clining of her life, and that her beau­tie fades, What a deale of charge is shee at with sophisticated Art, White and Red, to emplaster decayed Nature? her humility being such, that when her owne head is bald [Page 95] she will weare the cast haire of any he or she [...]ner that made a voyage in a string from Tyburne to either Heauen or Hell. And lastly, when as Art can no longer hide the furrowed or wrinkled deformities of her ouer-worne age; then (like a true well-willer to the old trade shee hath euer followed,) Whoring hauing left her very vnkindly before she was willing to leaue it: she (as her proper right for her long seruice, takes vpon her the of­fice and authority of a Bawd, and as she was brought vp her selfe, so with a motherly care her imployment is to bring vp others, where­in her paines is not small, in hyring Coun­trey wenches that come vp weekely with Carriers, and putting them in fashion, sel­ling one Maydenhead three or foure hundred times, and sometimes with great labour and difficulty shee's forced to perswade mens wiues and daughters; all which considered, a Bawd doth not get her liuing with so great ease as the world supposeth; nor is her aduen­ture, paines, charge and perill to be inconside­rately slighted.

And as blabbing, babbling, taletelling, and discouering the faults and frailties of others, is a most common and euill practice amongst too many: so on the other side, the vertues of a Bawd are much illustrated and confirmed by countrary effects: For she is the maine store­house of secresie, the Maggazin of taciturni­ty, the clozet of conniuence, the mumbudget of silence, the cloathbagge of counsell, and the Capease, fardle, packe, *male, (or female) of friendly toleration. Shee is full of into­lerable charity, for her whole trade and course of life is to hide and couer the faults of the grearest offenders, in which regard she is one of the principall secretariesses to the great Goddesse Venus, and one of her in­dustrious vigilant most horrible priuie coun­sell, not being ignorant of the liberall Arts and Sciences, and exceedingly qualified in the seuen deadly sinnes. And (for her further behoofe) shee hath an insight and can fashion her selfe to the humors of al Nations, degrees, conditions, my steries and occupations.

First, for her knowledges in the Arts and Sciences, she hath the grounds of a Grammar, whereby she can speake and write Amorous­ly, fainedly, merrily, lamentably, crastily, pur­posely, Bawdily: these words all ending in Lye (doe make her true dealing questiona­ble) yet her ayme is to liue profitably, though her fate is to dye miserably. Her skill in b A­stronomy cannot be small, for shee hath beene an often starre-gazer lying on her backe, pra­ctis'd in eleuations, retrogradations, Con­iunctions, and planetary reuolutions; put indeed shee is more addicted to accept the Moone for her Mistresse, then the Sunne for her Master, which makes her expert in night­workes, euer changing from quarter to quar­ter, not long abiding in any place: sometimes shining in Lady-like resplendent brightnesse with admiration, and suddenly againe eclipsed with the pitchy and tenebrous clouds of contempt and deserued defamation. Some­times at the Full at Pickt-hatch, and sometimes in the Wane at Bridewell.

A Bawd is a c Logician, which is perceiued by her subtill and circumuenting speeches, doubtfull and ambiguous Apothegmes, dou­ble significations, intricate, witty, and cun­ning equiuocations, (like a skilfull Fencer that casts his eye vpon a mans foot, and hits him a knocke on the pate) so She, by going the further about, comes the neerer home, and by casting out the Lure, makes the Tassell Gentle come to her fist.

For Rhetoricke, shee must haue the Theo­ricke and Practicke, that though the subiect of her discourse or writing be foule and defor­med, yet must she (like a dmedicine-monger, quacke-saluer that couers his bitter pils in Su­gar) with the Embrodery of her eloquence, flourish ouer her immodest pretences, vnder the inchanting and various colours of plea­sure, profit, estimation, loue, reputation, and many more the like.

But of all the e Arts, I thinke shee bee [Page 96] most vnperfect in Arithmeticke, for though she hath beene brought vp to know Diuisions and Multiplications, yet she hath traded but by Retaile, altogether in Fractions and broken Numbers, so that her accounts were seldome or neuer to number her dayes, not caring for the past or the future, her minde (like a Dyall) alwayes fixed vpon the present, giuen much to ouer and vnder-reckonings, for at forty yeeres old she would be but twenty one, and at three­score she will be no lesse then fourescore: so that the marke being out of her mouth, wee must take the Apocryphall account of her age from her owne Arithmeticke without any further warrant.

Cornelius Agrippa approues a Bawd for an ex­cellent Geometrician for deuising engines to climbe into windowes, as Ladders of Ropes, or such like, to scale the Castle of comfort in the night, or the making of Picklockes or false keyes, wherein the Bawds care and proui­dence is great, in greazing and oyling lockes, bolts and hinges to auoid noise, shee knowes her Angles, Triangles, Quadrangles, squares, rounds, circles, semicircles and centers, her altitudes, longitudes, latitudes and demensi­ons, yet for all this skill of hers, she hath much adoe to liue squarely, according to Geometri­call rules, or to liue within any reasonable Compasse.

As for Musicke, It is to be coniectured by her long practice in prickesong, that there is not any note aboue Ela, or below Gammoth, but she knowes the Diapason: (a Bawd is old dogge at a hornepipe, her chiefest instrument is a Sackbut, her female minikins doe bring in her meanes, and her trebles, the tenor of all is that her selfe is the Base.) Besides, there are many pretty prouocatory dances, as the kissing dance, the cushin dance, the shaking of the sheets, and such like, which are important in­strumentall causes, whereby the skilfull hath both clyents and custome.

Poetry many times (though she vnderstand it not) doth her as good seruice; for the most of our great Bawds are diligently waited on by scurrilous oylie sonneting, practicall, Poe­ticall, a b d Panegyricall Panders, quaint trencher Epigrammatists, hungry and needy Anagra [...] mongers, their conceits being either com­mending or prouoking Bawdry: as one being requested by a Gentleman to inuent him a poesie for a Ring which hee ment to giue his Loue, the conceit was; Haue you any Logges to cleaue?

Painting and grauing are now and then profitable seruants to Bawds as the naked Pi­ctures of Venus, and Diana and her darlings; A­retine, and diuers other in that kinde can testi­fie; but commonly all she- Bawds are or haue beene painters themselues or painters of themselues, by which bold practice they are bold, aduenturous, impudent, and audacious, fearing no colours.

As for Physicke and Chirurgery, shee hath beene so much practis'd vpon, that by long continuance, shee's a most excellent Empe­ricke, so that a man need not doubt but an an­cient professed Bawd can play the Mounte­banke.

Moreouer, many old Bawds are skil'd in Pal­mestry or Chiromancy by looking into the hand of a man or woman, or Phisiognomy, and Me­toposcopi, in viewing of the face or forehead, by which shee professeth to tell the parties how many husbands or wiues they shall haue, how long they shall liue, when they are neere a good or bad turne; but aboue all, her skill is much credited to helpe yong women breed and fructifie, so that if shee be as barren as a Stockfish, yet the matronly medicines and in­structions of this wise cunning woman, will i [...] a little time make her encrease with a venge­ance, and multiply with a mischiefe.

Besides her skill in these forenamed Arts and sciences, she hath an insight and practice into all Mysteries and manuall trades; she ca [...] imitate a deceitfull Mercer in setting out her ware, faire to the eye, and false in the dye, with an outside of glorious glosse, and an inside of rotten decayed drosse, more for pride or pleasure, then for prouidence, or profit.

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[Page 97]Like a bold a Grocer, she cares not a Figge for any man, she knows flesh is fraile, yet she hath many Reasons to liue by, she runs her race long, and she is able to Pepper as many as haue any dealing with her; tooth Lickorish, tongue Licko­rish, &c. shee knowes a bribe to a Catchpole is as sufficient as an Almond for a Parrot, to free her from the heate of the Mace. Master Cloue at the signe of the Sugar-loafe, is a sweet youth, whose Candied Visitation will keepe her estate Currant till age and diseases weare her quite out of date.

bA yong rich heire newly come to his lands or portion, is a Bawds Broadcloth, whom shee measures out in parts, I will not tell you with what yard, but I thinke no London mea­sure, till in the end, onely a poore remnant re­maines; her meaner Merchandise are trades­men, and poore seruing-men, these serue for course Kerseyes, Bayes, Cottons and Pennistones to line her inside with Sacke, hot waters, and Aqua vitae.

Though she liue after the flesh; all is c Fish that comes to the net with her, shee is a cun­ning Angler and gets her liuing by hooke or by crooke, shee hath baits for all kind of Frye: A great Lord is her Groneland Whale, a Coun­trey Gentleman is her Gods-head, a rich Citi­zens sonne is her sows'd Gurnet, or her Gudge­ [...]n: A Puritan is her Whitingmop, her Lobster is a scarlet Townsman, and a seuere Iustice of Peace is her Crab, her meanest customers are Sprats and Pilchards, whilest the Puncke is her salt Eele, and the Pander her Sharke and Sword­fish; And though shee deale most in Scorpio, yet shee holds correspondency with Pisces, for they both are signes that attend vpon Venus: Fryday is her day, and a day of doome to more fish then all the dayes in the weeke beside. And fish by nature is prouocatory, as appeares by the chaste liues of fasting fish-eating Fryers and Nuns, whose notorious ( qusia) meritorious continency is touched partly afore.

Shee differs from the dGoldsmith in the Tutch, the Test, and the weight, yet she puts the best side of her ware outward, shee casts and hammers her wenches into all fashions; thee hath them burnished, pollish'd, punch'd and turnd, and if any of them by a fall, or too much heat be bruis'd, crack'd or broken, shee can soder them together againe, and make them marketable.

There is scarce any Art, mystery, trade or manuall occupation, but a Bawd hath a refe­rence or allusion to it, or it to her. Therefore to runne diuision through them all would be long labour to little purpose: In which re­spects hauing spoken of a few, He s [...]ip ouer the rest to auoid tediousnesse; and to free my selfe from the imputation of partiality, Fe [...]at last allude her to a Water-man; for of all degrees, Languages, Tongues, Nations, [...]ge [...] Sexes, Functions and fraternities are wel­come and well entertain'd to the one and the other (prouided they bring money in their purses.) And as the Waterman rowes one way, and lookes another, so a Bawds words and meaning doe very seldome goe to­gether.

Our fiue Senses are rhe Cinque Ports of Bawdry, each one in his office being the hearts Bawd: The Hearing conueighes Tunes, Tales, Rimes, Ridles, Songs, Sonnets, and Madrigals. The Sight wanders, searcheth, seekes, finds and brings home (into the very bedchamber of the heart) amorous actions, prouocatory gestures, effeminate glances, allu­ring lookes, pictures of prostitution, and ve­neriall vanities. The Taste playes the Bawd with both Art and Nature, and searcheth through the Earth, Seas and Skies for varie­ty of temptations; poore and innocent Lambstones, Potatoes, Eringoes, Crabs, Scallops, Lobsters, Wilkes, Cockles, Oy­sters, Anchoues and Caueare, Cock-sparrowes, Coxcome-pyes, and all manner of feathered sowle from the Eagle to the Wren, doe waite vpon the Taste, and the Taste attends the appe­tite. The Smell is the senting Bawd, that huffs and snufts vp and downe, and hath the game alwayes in the winde, that is a right smell­smocke sense, who is wonderfully pleased to [Page 98] be led by the nose, can hunt dry-foot, and smel out Venery nimbler then a pinch-gut Vsurer will nose out a feast.

Touching or Feeling is a very merry Bawd, and though a man or woman can neither Heare, See, Taste or Smell, yet Feeling may re­maine: It is the last sense that keeps vs com­panie, and were it not for feeling, all the rest of the senses were but senslesse.

And thus much more in excuse of a Bawd, though shee liue by one of the Seuen Deadly Sinnes, which is Lechery; No man can deny Pride to bee another of the said Septarchy, yet the Mercer, the Silkeman, the Embroyderer, the Drawer, the Cutter, the Taylor and the Feather-maker, the new fashion monger, the Diuell and all thriue by Pride, and might shut vp shop, if Pride were not.

Glattonie and Drunkennesse is another of the brood, yet were it not for superfluous, volup­tuous gurmandizing, and extraordinary swi­nish swilling and drinking; the Wine-Mer­chant, the Vintner, the Malt-man, the Brewer, the Tapster; Poulterer, the sellers of Eringoes and Potatoes, and the Cooke would haue but very cold takings.

Couetousnesse is another whelpe of the same kinde, yet were it not for rauenous oppression, deuouring Extortion, biting Vsury, Bribery, Deceit and Coozenage, Diues would not or could not fare deliciously and bee clad in Pur­ple, nor the hackney Coach bee in such com­mon request.

Enuie is a high point of State, and he is no perfect Politician that repines not at the hap­pinesse of all men (but himselfe:) commonly it giues due attendance in Princes Courts, and feedes vpon the detraction of Noble actions; It eates into honour, as a Canker doth into the best and choysest fruit, yet doth it liue, thriue, weare good cloathes, is esteemed a talent of high wisdome and valour.

Wrath is a blood-hound of the aforesaid kennell, yet Armourers, Cutlers, Fencers, Chirurgians, and Bonesetters would bee idle and want imployment and meanes, if Wrath did not ouercome Patience, and madnesse dis­possesse discretion and Reason.

Sloth is the last of the list, (and well may it come last because it is laziest) yet is it a Gen­tleman-like quality, and a Lady-like disposi­tion, to be idle, and liue vpon the sweat of o­thers; Manuall trades or handicrafts are coun­ted base and mercenarie, and good industry is contemptible; laudable endeuours Mechani­call, and to take paines and labour, is drudge­ry and meere slauery.

Thus by Pride a man may come to bee one of the Masters of his Parish, by Gluttony and drunkennesse, he may hap mount to a place of reputation and worship; by Couetousnesse hee may get a damnable deale of wealth and bee accounted a good man; by Enuy hee may bee esteemed conceited, Politike, graue and wise: by Wrath he may gaine the titles of valia [...]t and resolute, and by Sloth and idlenesse hee may bee perfectly knowne for a Gentleman.

*And is it not a wonder, that these six dead­ly sinnes, should bee so vncharitable to the se­uenth [...]as to robbe it of all earthly reputation, when if a man doe consider them rightly, there is ne'r a barrell better herring, nor doth the Bawd liue in a worse estate or condition, then the proudest gluttonous Drunkard, or the most couctous, enuious wretch? The wrathfull bloudy villaine, or the idle slothfull drone, are clog'd with vices as vile and abominable as a Bawd, yet for all this, the purblind partiall world doth hugge, embrace, cherish and re­uerence all these enormitie [...], onely a Bawd, a silly painfull, seruiceable Bawd, is held odious and contemptible.

Commonly most of the shee- Bawds haue a peculiar priuiledge more then other women, for generally they are not starueling creaturs, but well larded and embost with fat, so that a Bawd hath her mouth three stories of Chinnes high, and is a well fed embleme of plentie; and though shee bee but of small estimation, yet is shee alwaies taken for a great woman amongst her neighbours.

*On former Shroue-tuesdaies, when the vn­ruly rabble did falsely take vpon them the [Page 99] name of London Prentices, then two or three thousand of those boot-haling pillaging Ras­cals, would march madly to the habitations of the most famous Bawdes, where they would robustiously enter, breaking open doores, bat­tring downe walls, tearing downe Tyles, pul­ling downe windowes, rending Trunkes, Chests, Cupboords, Tables, and Bedsteads in pieces; ripping and enbowelling bolsters and featherbeds, rauishing her maides or stale vir­gins, spoyling all they stole not, and stealing what they liked, beating the graue Bawd, and all her female vermine, most vnmanly and vn­mannerly. In all which vnciuill ciuill hostili­tie, the singular patience of the Bawd is worthy admiration; not giuing any of these land­sharkes an ill word, or shewing any signe of anger or desire of reuenge, but intreating the most rough-hewd Rogues in the company, with the stiles of honest worthy Gentlemen, with I pray you, I humbly desire you, I hearti­ly beseech you, to asswage your fury, appease your wrath, mollifie your anger, suppresse your ire, mitigate your rage. These and like Phrases, a modest ancient Bawd would dis­creetly vtter to her greatest enemies, rendring good words for bad deedes, when they were doing or had done to her all the mischiefes be­fore named, nor euer after would shee offer to take any legall course, as to cause them to bee brought before a Iustice, whereby the Law might in some sort giue her satisfaction: In which sufferance the great patience of a Bawd is remarkable.

We doe esteeme a Fountaine. Well, or Spring to be the more cleere from poyson, if a toad, a newt, or a, snake, be in either of them, for wee imagine that those venimous creatures doe sucke or extract all the contagion of that Christaline Element into themselues. aIn the like nature, a Bawd is the snuffers of the Com­mon-wealth, and the most wholesome or ne­cessary wheelebarrow or Turnbrell, for the close conueyance of mans luxurious nastinesse and fordid beastialitie. Rauens, Kites, Crowes, and many other birds of Prey, are tolerated to liue vnhurt, not for any good that is in them­selues, but because they doe good offices in deuouring and carrying away our Garbage and noysome excrements, which they liue by: and if they were not our voluntarie Scauen­gers, wee should be much annoyed with con­tagious sauors of these corrupted offals. These are the right patternes of an industrious Bawd, for shee pickes her liuing out of the laystall or dunghill of our vices; if shee thriue and grow fat, it is with the Meraurinous draffe of our imperfections, (for shee is seldome be­holding to an honest man for so much as a meales meat) shee robs not the vertuous of a­ny part of their vertue, shee liues onely by the vicious, and in this sort shee is an execu­tioner of sinners, and in the end giues the most wicked cause to repent, leauing them such aking remembrance in their ioynts, that their very bones rattle in their skins.

In other trades, when Apprentices come out of their yeeres, they are allowed to set vp for themselues, and to haue other apprentices vnder them. Hee that hath beene a Grammar Scholler, when he commeth to ripenesse of learning and iudgement, will thinke himselfe able and sufficient to bee a Schoolemaster, and to haue other Schollers vnder him: and why should not b Whores haue a Mistris of their owne dealing-trade, that they may haue Ap­prentices vnder their nurture and Discipline, who may by their obedience in their minori­ty be aduanced to command others in the same mystery or occupation? And therefore the Law (in this point) fauouring their voca­tion, why should any censorious Cato plead the Law for banishing of any Bawdes?

Why should any Ecclesiasticall Lawes in Forraigne Countryes, debarre Bawdes and their disciples from the Sacrament; as if they were not in Charity, when as they are knowne to bee so Catholikely charitable, that they extend their cloue to all without exception, and are ready enough to forgiue all the world, knowing themselues to bee such great offen­ders, that they much need forgiuenesse?

Welfare dthe Common-wealth plotted by [Page 100] Plato, who would haue no woman appropria­ted to any man (it seemes he was a great ene­mie against inclosures, who would haue all thus lye common) his reason was very Phy­losophicall, the like whereof is not to bee found either in Don Quixot, or Sir Thomas Moores Vtopia, namely, that when no childe had any proper father, euery man would loue euery childe as his owne, and so the whole City shou'd bee happy in a Combination of an vniuersall loue equally extended to all. If so wise a man as Plato, was not a shamed to make himselfe the vniuersall Bawd of a whole Common-wealth, why should any of our vn­learned neighbours that haue read farre fewer Bookes then hee, bee ashamed to bee accoun­ted procuring Panders in one house, in the skirts of a City, for the Platon call Coniuncti­on of their neighbours within a street or two adioyning.

*In Italy and most ciuill Countries, it is counted a most vnciuill curiosity to aske any man (though after long acquaintance) of what religion he is or whence he commeth, or whi­ther hee goeth, or whether hee bee a married man, or intend to marry. Who then more ci­uill or fairely mannered then the Bawdes: for they neuer put any of their customers to the rocke to coufesie, nor doe they torture their, guests with the sawcy inquiry of Whence come you? how long wil you tarry in Towne? haue you a wife at home, or are you a loose Batchelor? are you a Gentleman? a Merchant, or tradesman? are you a Catholike, or Refor­med? The Bawd I say is so ciuill that shee ne­uer will aske any of these questions, one thing onely shee studies and practiseth, which is di­ligently to demand *whether a man haue any mony in his purse, which is no impertinent question: for the Law doth authorize a Land­lord to demand his Rent vpon the ground where it is due, although sometimes hee lets his tenant enioy his house or land a quarter, or halfe a yeere before he receiue any rent: A waterman sweats and lands his fare before he lookes for mony. The Host suffers his guest to eate his meate, before anon, anon with the white Apron comes in with thus much to pay, and yee are welcome; no man at any game takes vp his winnings before the Game be wonne; an Vsurer takes no forfeit before the day of payment be past; but the Bawd in her demand is more wise and prouident, then all these trades and functions, for shee like a Butcher takes present pay or her flesh, she will be sure to haue her wages before shee afford you her peny-worth you shall not drinke at her mud­dy well before you pay for it, Shee knowe; that hope and desire of that which is to come, is a better paymaster, thē grudging remembran [...]e of fruition of, that which is past. Herein sixe hath good examples to follow of no meane vocations, the learned Physitian and Chirurgies would be loth to exspect their reward till the cure be performed; the honestest Lawyer would plead but coldly if hee might receiue no Fees till his clients cause were iudged. A Fencer will fight but faintly if hee should take no mony before his prize were plaid, and the Players on their publike stage would act very poorly if their audience did not pay at their first comming in.

The greedy haling and pulling of other mens goods, or insatiate appetite to feed, ingurgi [...] ta [...]e, guzzle and swill, are apparant markes or tokens of Intemperance; who then more tempe­rate then a Bawd? for *shee is so full of mode­stie that shee liues onely vpon what people doe giue her. Men doe voluntarily bring her reuennues to her, shee kindly takes no more then shee can get, nor receiues any thing but what is brought her, and as the Taylor steales not at all, because men doe freely (and vncon­strained) deliuer their goods to him, euen so, the Bawd cannot be taxed with depriuing any man of more then he idlely parts withall.

Wise men haue said, that vertue hath no great praise where there is no allurement or temptation to vice, and therefore haue ac­counted it but small mastery for a Iudge to be vncorrupt where there are no bribes stirring; for a poore Clowne to bee humble that hath nei­ther money nor Cloathes to bee proud of; for a Drunkard to bee sober where is no drinke but [Page 101] faire water, for a notorious thiefe to refraine from filching, where there is not any thing to steale; or for one to liue chast in a Monasterie or Nunnery: But here is the eminency of absti­nence, and the true praise of vertue, for a man to saft at a delicious feast; to be cleere from bribes or gentle rewards, where oppressions, extortions, strifes and contentions doe continually grow and multiply: To be sober and thirsty where wines and strong drinkes are plenty in variety; to be true and trustie amongst inestimable Iewels, vn­countable Treasure, or vntold Gold. These are superarogating vertues, which though many boast of, yet few attaine to: now the Bawd liues in the storehouse of libidinous confra­ternity, in the shop of Venery, in the garden of lasciuious pleasure, in the euer growing and flourishing field of vanity; amongst those that practise the excesse of luxury, none so neere within ken of wantonnesse and dalli­ance; shee admits into her house men flouri­shing in yeeres, hot in their desires, and wil­ling in performance, yet (for ought I know) aa Bawd was neuer accused for committing fomication in her owne person, (which is a rare marke of abstinence) for who can produce out of any record, that a Bawd was euer carted for playing the Whore?

And this is her comfort when she is carted, that shee rides when all her followers goe on foot, that euery Dunghill payes her homage, and euery Tauerne looking-glasse powres bountifull reflection vpon her, the streets and windowes are full of spectators of her pompe. Shouts, acclamations and ringing on well tu­ned Banbury kettle-drums, and barbarous Ba­sins, proclaime and sound forth her trium­phant progresse, whilest shee rides embrode­red all ouer like a Lady of the soyle, conduct­ed in state out of the Easterne suburbs, to set vp her trade fresh and new in the West.

As concerning Religion or matters of * Con­science, shee is a creature that will neuer runne mad with beating her braines in any point of such high quality. For whereas it is a speech or prouerbe, to say, that an extortioner, vsu­rer, or corrupted Magistrate hath a Large Con­science, so on the other part, it is a saying, tha­such a man or woman hath no Conscience: now betweene these extremes of large and none, the Bawd doth obserue the mediocrity or meane: for to say that shee hath a large Catholike or vniuersall Conscience, to entertaine all com­mers, or all that would come to her, is false for her conscience is bounded, caged, and impriso­ned, and limited in any mans purse or pocket, of what estate, condition or Religion soeuer. On the contrary, to say that shee hath no Consci­ence at all, it were to doe her an open iniury, for shee doth extend her entertainment, to as many as please to please her, and her charity doth alwaies stretch as far as any mans mony will reach: And to speake the truth, she hath great reason on her side; for if a man let his Horse to hire, or Asse to market, he will looke to bee paide for the trauell or paines of his Beast; and shall a Bawd let her Soule to the Deuill for nothing? A Knight of the Poast will not hazzard damnation (and his eares to the Pillory to boote) but (if he be wise) he will bee well paid for his labour. Will any great man oppresse and vndoe a whole Country, and (with the losse of the Kingdome of Heauen) purchase an accursed portion of Earth, but that hee will haue terrestriall Angels minister to him here, making no account of the celesti­all hereafter? And shall the conscience of a Bawd bee pinfolded so straitly, that her soule shall be of lesse esteeme then a Hackney man makes of his Horse or Asse? or a swearing and for swearing Rogue doth of his eares? no, no my Masters, shee is wiser then so, shee thinks it is a long iourney to Hell, and therefore she doth thriftily prouide to saue charges, that o­ther men shall pay for her passage or Coach­hire: shee will not trauell so farre vpon her owne cost, shee is so well beloued, that euery one of her customers will (or must) giue her something toward the reckoning, shee hath more policy in her then to bee damn'd for no­thing; and shee scornes to vsurpe a place in Hell without iust title or desert.

As for her Religion, it is of the same peece as her conscience is, there went but a paire of [Page 102] sheeres betweene; with the Papist shee will be Ceremonious for the Crosse *, with the Puri­tan, shee will bee precise, casting her eyes vp, when her thoughts are downe, and accept the * pyle; shee hath so brought vp her schollers, that the name of God is too often in their mouthes, for they will sweare either with or without occasion; and as concerning matters of truth, shee hath brought them vp so, that they will lye with any man. Most of them are of the sect of the Family of Loue, they differ onely in this, the familists doe hold opinion, that onely when the husband sleepes; that the wife may take as much liberty as a Cat, to play, &c. but the Bawd doth allow a larger to­leration, and admits either man or woman to haue accesse, and vse their exercise both sleep­ing and waking. Shee is indeed addicted to a­ny Religion, or all, or none, no further then her ease and profit doth incite her, for she knowes that charity is a good huswife, and will begin her owne worke at home first: In which re­spect a Bawd holds a high point of doctrine, to loue her selfe better then she doth all the world besides: and in this shee differs much from a Romane Catholike, that she builds not vpon her Workes, or hath any hope to be saued by her merits. And should persecution come, she will be no Martyr, she will neither hang for one religion, or burne for another, shee knowes that she came a raw creature into the world, and her resolution is, that neither re­ligion or conscience shall send her roasted out of it.

And thus I would haue the Reader to con­sider, that the paines that I haue taken in this description of a Bawd, is more then I would willingly doe for the honestest woman that dwels betweene Smithfield barres and Clerken­well, and I know that there is not any of the trade so ingratefull, but that if my selfe or any friend of mine haue occasion to vse them, they will doe their best for me, and goe as neere as they can to take our money. Neither haue I discoursed of any vpstart new fangled bable or toy, but of an ancient solid, reall, and lasting thing, for when all trades are trade­falne and broken, a Bawd may set vp with lit­tle worth, or a thing of naught, and many times her lucke is so fortunate, that she will *extract out of sinne and wickednesse, good money, good cloathes, good meat, and almost good any thing, but good conscience: but that is but a poore beggerly vertue, which her con­trary nature cannot agree withall, for shee knowes by old experience that it hath vndone many, and that they are accounted none of the wisest, that make any account or reckoning of it.

I am sorry that I haue not dedicated this book to some great Patron or Patronesse: but the world is so hard to please, that I thinke it an easier matter to displease all, then euery way fully to please one; for I did lately write a small pamphlet in the praise of cleane Linnes, which I did dedicate to a neat, spruce, prime, principall and superexcellent Landresse, and shee, in stead of protecting my labours, or sheltring my good and painfull study, doth not onely expresse her liberality in giuing me nothing, but also shee depraues and depriues me of that small talent and portion of wit and Poetry which nature hath giuen or lent mee; most vntruly affirming and reporting, that that Pamphlet was the inuention of a graue and learned friend of mine, (whose imploy­ments are so vrgent and eminent, and whose iudgement and capacity are so mature and ap­proued) that not one line, word, sillable, or let­ter is in that poore toy, but it is so farre vnlike a wiseman, that they all and euery one doe most truly and obediently call Iohn Taylor fa­ther.

But belike shee hath learn'd some frugall qualities of some who are more honored and worshiped, then honourable or worshipfull, who take it for a point of thirsty wisdome, to discommend where they doe not meane to reward. It is a kind of policy, vnder which ma­ny better labours then mine haue suffered per­secution and Martyrdome; and belike my vn­kind Patronesse is ambitious to follow the ex­ample of her betters. But I would haue her to know, that if shee had but gratefully accepted [Page 103] my booke of Cleane Linnen, that then I would haue cudgeld and canuasde my Muse, I would haue rowz'd my spirits, belabour'd my Inuen­tion, beaten my braines, thump'd, bumbasted, strapadoed, lambski'nd, and clapper claw'd my wits, to haue mounted her praise one and thir­tie yards ( London measure) beyond the Moone. But ingratitude is the poyson of industry, and detraction is the destruction of good ende­uours, for the which sinnes of hers, I will allot her no other punishment but this, that shee shall remaine as shee was and is, the true wife to an honest Cobler, A cleanly, trusty, chast, lo­uing and welbeloued Landresse, whom (when the fates and destinies shall depriue Chancery Lane of, then many polluted and slouenly Linnen soylers shall lament, in foule bands, blacke cuffes, and mourning shirts.

aAs Sloth and idlenesse are vices discommen­ded in all Lawes and Common-wealths, be­ing enormities of that high nature and vile condition that they haue ruined whole King­domes, Cities, families, and many particular persons; so on the contrary, diligence, indu­stry and carefull vigilancy, are qualities that doe not onely erect States and Common­wealths, but they doe also conserue and pre­serue whomsoeuer shall put them in vse and practice: who then is more vigilant or indu­strious then a diligent Bawd, shee is none of the seuen Sleepers, nay shee carefully watch [...]th whilst others sleepe, shee takes paines for the pleasure of many, shee is the true Embleme or image of security, her eyes like carefull and trusty scouts or spyes doe fore-see and preuent the danger of M r. Busieman the Constable with his ragged, rusty regiment. Moreouer, shee is not like a ship bound for Groneland, which must saile but in summer, or a pot of Ale with a toast, which is onely in winter: no let the winde blow where it will, her care is such, that it brings her prize and purchase all sea­sons, her b pinkes are fraighted, her Pinnaces are man'd, her friggots are rig'd (from the beak­head to the Poope) and if any of her vessels be boorded by Pyrats, and shot betwix winde and water, they are so furnished with engines, that theyle send them packing with a pox, or else blow them quite vp with a diuels name: there is not a poynt in the compasse but the skilfull c Bawd obserues, if the wind be North or North-east, shee expects profits out of the Low-Countries, from Germany, Denmarke, Norway, and sometimes a Prize from Scotland, if at South or S. west, then her hopes are from France, but Spaine, and Italy doe seldome or ne­uer faile her; And let it blow high or low, the Englishman is neere on all occasions. She hath not beene much accused for receiuing vncu­stomed goods, for to speake the truth, she will harbour no ventred commodity in her ware­house, and if the Informer or Constable doe light vpon one of her conceal'd dryfats, Pun­chions, fardils or (naughty) packs, and hauing seiz'd it by his office, and honestly laid it vp safe in the store-house of Bridewell, yet the Bawd will so compound in the businesse, that for a small toye, and a little sufferance, sheele redeeme the Commodity and haue her ware againe in her owne hands.

dA Bawd is no deceiuer of her customers, for what shee promiseth shee will performe, as for example, If shee take a see to helpe a man to a Whore, shee will not cheat him and bring him an honest woman; a bargaine's a bar­gaine, and shee will not faile you in a tittle: shee plainly and openly shewes her selfe what shee is, shee doth not dissemble or hide her function from her clyents, vnder the veile of hypocrysie, and for her creatures that liue vn­der her, eshee hath taught them their Art whereby they may liue another day, when she is dead and rotten, and as they haue their maintenance by her instruction and vnder her protection, so it is fit that in requitall of her paines, she should picke a reuenue out of their commings in, shee hath good presidents out of famous Authors for it, an old braue fellow tooke great paines in teaching of his Cut horse, and the beast was so thankfull for it, that hee got his masters prouender and his owne both many yeeres after. If a man teach in Ape to [Page 104] doe trickes, the honest Ape will maintaine him for it; I haue seene a Hare get her master and dames liuing, with playing on a Tabor. The very Baboones are graue examples in this kind, Tumblers boyes, (and sometimes their wiues) doe teach vs this duty; and the igno­rant Puppets doe allow their maker and ma­ster, meat, drinke, and cloth. For mine owne part, if I teach my man to row, I will haue for my paines the greatest part of the profit: If I dig or plow and cast my Seed into the ground, I will expect the benefit of the Crop: If I plant or grasse, I should thinke I had but hard measure, if I should not feed vpon the fruit of my labour: By this consequence it, is reason that a Bawd should reape where shee hath sowne, and eate, and liue vpon such fruit as shee hath planted.

To close vp all, the summe of all is this,
I'l end my booke as Ouid ended his.
So long as on the Poles the spangled firmament shall whirle,
So long as Procreation shall beget a Boy or Girle,
So long as winter shall be cold, or summer shall be hot,
So long as pouerty and spight shall be true vertues lot,
When Phoebus in the West shall rise, and in the East shall set,
When children (on their mothers) their owne fathers shall beget;
Then shall this booke, or Bawd lye dead, and neuer till that day,
Shall Booke or Bawd, or Bawd or Booke, be scarce, if men will pay.
Till Sun and Moone shall cease to shine, and all the world lye wast;
So long this Booke, or else a Bawd, I'm sure, so long shall last.
FINIS.

A Common Whore with all these graces grac'd; Shee's very honest, beautifull and chaste. With a comparison betweene a Whore and a Booke.

DEDICATED To no matter who: Lord, Master, Goodman, Gaffer, or Knaue; Lady, Mistresse, Good-Readers. wife, Gammer, or Whore,

I Would not haue you to take me for a Bawd, or a Pander, for that I send a Whore amongst you, for though it be my pleasure to call her so, yet you in perusing of beyond conuersing with her, shall finde her honester then some of your Wiues or Mothers. Indeed she hath no great Kindred to boast of, for my poore braine, like loue, was father and mother that begat and bare her, like a new Pallas; and my pe [...] [Page 105] the Midwife that first wrap'd her in ragged verses in stead of clouts, where the Printer hath [...]'d her as he would be loth to be vs'd himselfe; for hee hath published and proclaimed all [...]er faults to the view of the world, and yet I know the poore Whores paines is not past, for now shee is to be examined a thousand wayes, and tortured vpon the Racke of Censure, [...]and amongst all that shall view and handle her, the hot Whoremaster will deale most dis­courteously with her, for when hee perceiues her honestie too hard for his knauery, hee will in [...]ger, with three tushes, foure pishes, fiue mewes, sixe wry mouthes, and seuen scur­ [...] faces, teare her and pull her worse then the rusticall Rabblement did vse to vse com­mon Whores on former Shroue-Tuesdayes. But all's one, let him due his worst, shee is confidently arm'd with Innocency; and the threats or danger of the bad cannot affright [...]er, but that shee will attempt to recreate the good. In a word, all that is amisse in [...]ir, I pray you impute it to my bad Tutorship, and her owne frailtie; all that I hope of [...]er is, that shee is a merrie Whore, full of good words, A kinde Whore to be bad for [...]oney or loue any where; a true Whore and a constant, for shee will neuer for sake any man [...]that will keepe her; and (by reason shee is an honest Whore) shee is a poore Whore, and hath either money nor Sprats; so take my VVhore amongst you as she is.

Now after this, I'l bee exceeding briefe
To send another Pamphlet call'd a Thiefe;
The Hue and Cry is out, and I protest,
Though hee scape hanging, yet hee shall be prest.
IOHN TAYLOR.

A WHORE.

MY Booke, an honest Whore I fitly call,
Because it treats of whores in generall:
Then though this Pamphlet I doe name a Whore,
Let no man shun her company therefore.
For if ten thousand with her lodge and lye,
No reputation they shall lose thereby.
[Page 106]No cost * for dyet she at all requires,
No charge for change of changeable attires,
No Coaches, or Carroaches she doth craue,
No base attendance of a Pand'ring Knaue,
Perfumes and Paintings she abhorres and hates,
Nor doth she borrow haire from other pates.
And this much more Ile boldly say for her,
Whoso redeemes her from the Stationer,
(With whom she as a Slaue is kept in hold,
And at his pleasure daily bought and sold)
I say, that man that doth her ransome pay,
She will requite his kindnesse euery way;
Her Inside with such Treasury is stor'd,
As man become the Pocket of a Lord;
All, from the Cottage, to the Castle high,
From Palatines vnto the Peasantry,
(If they'l permit their wisedomes rule their will)
May keepe this whore, and yet be honest still.
Yet is she * Common vnto all that craue her,
For sixe pence honest man or knaue may haue her,
To be both turn'd and tost, she free affords,
And (like a prating whore) she's full of words;
But all her talke is to no other end,
Then to teach Whoremasters and Whores to mend.
She in plaine termes vnto the world doth tell,
Whores are the Hackneys which men ride to Hell,
And by comparisons she truely makes
A whore worse then a common Shore, or Iakes.
A Succubus, a damned sinke of sinne,
A mire, where worse then Swine doe wallow in.
And with a whore (although thus plaine she be)
She shewes a Whoremonger as bad as she.
And though I barren am of Eloquence,
Nor neuer vnderstood my Accidence:
Yet though I haue no learning to my share,
A whore to broken Latine [...]e compare:
First, if her minde on whoring she doth fix,
Shee's all compact of mirth, all Meretrix,
And with small teaching she will soone decline
Mulier into the Gender Masculine,
By her Attire, of which sex she should be,
She seemes the doubtfull Gender vnto me,
To either side her habit seemes to leaue.
And may be taken for the Epic [...].
Vnto the New [...]r I compare her can,
For she's for thee, or me, or any man.
In her Declensions she so farre doth goe,
As to the common of two or three, or moe,
And come to horum, harum, Whor [...]s, then [...]
She proues a great proficient amongst men.
Then after she had learn'd these [...]ssons right,
She forward goes vnto hoc leue light:
She paints our pulcher, ayded by her glasse,
She's neither bonus, or yet bonit [...],
Home for all men, is a common name,
And she for all men is a common shame.
Not lapis singularly, her can please,
She loues the plurall number lapides.
To construe plainly, she is seldome curious,
The two hard words of durus and of durius,
Though she's not past the Whip, she's past the Rods,
And knowes to ioyne her qui's, her qua's, and quod's.
The Actiue from the Passiue shee'l deriue,
Her Mood commands like the Imparatiue;
She knowes n [...] Concords, yet to all men thus,
She faine would be Iucundus omnibus;
Cla [...] is the Cloake, that couers her offence,
Her goodnesse all is in the Future tense.
She's facile fieri, (quickly wonne)
Or Const'ring truly, Easie to be done.
Parui ducitur probitas, sets forth
Her honesty is reckoned little worth:
And he shall finde, that takes her for his choyce,
An Imeriection, or Imperfect voyce.
Among the rules of Gender, she by heart,
Can without missing daily say her part.
The first among them all she liketh best,
Propria quae Maribus, and there she'l rest.
Thus may a Whore be made (by this construction)
Vnto the Grammar Rules an Introduction.
But yet if Learning might be gotten so,
Fow to the Vniuersities would goe.
And all degrees, tagge, ragge, and old, and yong,
Would be well grounded in the Latine tongue:
Whil'st many learn'd men would be forc'd to seeke
Their liuings from the Hebrew and the Greeke:
For mine owne part I dare to sweare and vow,
I ne'r vs'd Accidence so much as now,
Nor all these Latine words here enterlac'd,
I doe not know if they with sense are plac'd,
I in the Booke did find them, and conclude,
At random to a Whore I them allude.
But leauing Latine, eu'ry trading wench
Hath much more vnderstanding of the French.
If shee hath learn'd great P, O Per se O,
She 'le quickly know De morbo Gallico.
If in these rudiments she well doth enter,
With any man she neuer feares to venter:
She's impudently arm'd, and shamelesse too,
And neuer dreads what man to her can do:
Her neather part to stake shee'l often lay,
To keepe her vpper part in fashion gay;
She blushes not to haue her Trade well knowne,
Which is, she liues by vsing of her owne.
Her shop, her ware, her same, her shame, her game,
'Tis all her owne, which none from her can claime.
And if she be halfe mad, and curse and sweare,
And fight, and bite' and scatch, and domineere:
Yet still she proues her patience to be such,
'Midst all these passions she will beare too much.
[Page 107]She is not couetous for any thing,
For what she hath, men doe vnto her bring,
(Her Temp'rance is a vertue of much honour)
And all her Commings in are put vpon her.
She's generall, she's free, she's liberall
Of hand and purse, she's open vnto all,
She is no miserable hide bound wretch,
To please her friend at any time shee'l stretch;
At once she can speake true, and lye, or either,
And is at home, abroad, and altogether.
Shee's nimbler then a Tumbler, as I thinke,
Layes downe, and takes vp, whilst a man can winke:
And though she seeme vnmeasur'd in her pleasure,
'Tis otherwayes, a Yard's her onely measure.
B [...]t as most Whores are vicious in their fames,
So many of them haue most Vertuous names,
Though bad they be, they will not bate an Ace
To be cald Prudence, Temp'rance, Faith, or Grace,
Or Mercy Charity, or many more,
Good names (too good to giue to any Whore.)
Much from the Popes of Rome they doe not swerue,
For they haue Names which they doe ill deserue;
Onely betwixt them here's the difference on't,
A Whore receiues her Name first at the Font:
The Roman Bishop takes a larger scope,
For he doth change his name, when he's a Pope.
As if he were a Persecuting Saul,
If he please hee'l be call'd a Preaching Paul.
Is his name Swinesnowt, he can change the Case,
And swap away that name for Boniface:
If he be most vngodly, and enuious,
Yet if he please, he will be called Pius:
Be he by Nature to all mischiefe bent,
He may and will be called Innocent;
And be he neuer so doggedly inclin'd,
Hee'l be nam'd Vrbane, if it be his mind.
If he be much more fearefull then a Sheepe,
The name of Leo he may haue and keepe.
And though he be vnmercifull, yet still
He may be called Clement if he will.
Thus Popes may haue good names, though bad they be,
And so may Whores, though different in degree.
The Anagram of WHORE'S her mortall foe,
Deuided into two words, 'tis HER WO.
And seriously (to lay all Iesting by)
A Whore is Her owne Wo [...], and misery.
For though she haue all pleasures at the full,
Much more then Thais, that proud Corinthians Trull,
Who suffered none but Kings and Potentates
To haue their pleasures, at Excessiue rates,
Yet all that Deare bought Lechery would be
The greater brand of lasting Infamy,
And though her Carrion Corps, rich clad, high fed,
(Halfe rotten liuing, and all rotten Dead)
Who with her hellish Courage, stout and hot,
Abides the brunt of many a prick shaft shot:
Yet being dead, and doth consumed lye,
Her euerlasting shame shall neuer dye.
Ixion (in his armes) he did suppose
That he the Goddesse Iuno did inclose:
But in the end his franticke error show'd,
That all which he imbrac'd was but a Cloud.
So whosoeuer doe their Lust embrace,
In stead of Loue are clouded with disgrace.
The Godlesse Goddesse Venus, honour'd farre,
For conqu'ring of the Conqu'ring God of Warre,
To hide their shame they no defence could get,
When limping Vulcan tooke them in a net;
And being past shame, with that foule offence,
She arm'd her selfe with shamelesse Impudence,
And with vngodly articles would proue,
That foule Concupiscence and Lust is Loue.
For which each bawdy Knaue, and filthy Whore,
Her Deuillish Diety doe still adore.
I haue read Histories that doe repeat
Whores were of old in estimation Great:
Pandemus King of Corinth, he erected
(That he from Perses power might be protected)
A Temple vnto Venus, as some say,
Where whores might for his safety safely pray:
And some in Ephesus did Temples reare,
In whom the Paphean Queenes adored were,
Where they that were the wickedst whores of all,
Were the chiefe Priests in robes Pontificall.
And in the Ile of Paphos, 'twas the vse
Maides got their Dowries, by their Corps abuse:
But if that order were allowed here,
So many would not portions want I feare.
The Art of Bawd'ry was in such respect
Amongst the Egyptians, that they did erect
An Altar to Priapus, and their guise
Was, that their Priests on it did Sacrifice.
Wise Arictotle was in wit so poore,
He Sacrific'd to Hermia his whore.
Great Iulius Caesar, was so free and Common,
And cald a husband vnto euery woman.
Procullus Emperour, (the Story sayes)
Deflowr'd one hundred Maydes a b c in fifteene dayes.
If all be true that Poets vse to write,
Hercules lay with fifty in one night.
When Heliogabulus Romes Scepter sway'd,
And all the world his lawlesse Lawes obay'd;
He in his Court did cause a Stewes be made,
Whereas Cum priuilegio, whores did trade:
H'inuited two and twenty of his friends,
And kindly to each one a whore he lends.
To set whores free, that then in bondage lay,
A mighty masse of money he did pay:
He (in one day) gaue to each whore in Rome
A Duckat (a large and ill bestowed summe.
[Page 108]He made Orations vnto whores, and said
They were his Souldiers, his defence and ayde;
And in his speech he shew'd his wits acute,
Of sundry formes of Bawdr'y to dispute.
And after giuing vnto euery where,
For list'ning to his tale three Duckats more,
With Pardon vnto all and Liberty
That would be whores within his Monarchy.
And yeerly Pensions, hee freely gaue,
To keepe a Regiment of whores, most braue.
And oft he had (when hee in Progresse went)
Of whores, Bawds, Panders, such a Rabblement,
Sixe hundred Waggons, History reports,
Attended onely on these braue consorts.
This was a Royall whoremaster indeed,
A speciall aBenefactor at their need:
But now since Heli [...]gabalm deceast,
I thinke the world with whores is so increast,
That if it had an Emperour as mad,
He might haue twice so many as he had.
For by experience wee see euery day,
That bad things doe increase, good things decay.
And vertue (with much care) from vertue breeds,
Vice freely springs from vice, like stinking weeds.
Sardanapalus King of Babylon,
Was to his whores such a companion,
That hee in their attire did fow and sing,
(An exercise vnfitting for a King.)
This seruent Lust, (which some call ardent Loue)
Did cause the Bastard b of the mighty Ioue
To please his Iole, hee tooke a Wheele,
And (laying by his Club) did spin and Reele,
Great Ioue himselfe could not this snare escape,
Lust led him on to many a shamelesse Rape.
Poore Hebe, Hele, * Darna, and Europae,
Alcmena, lo, Sem [...], and Leada,
Antiopa, Asterie, Gan [...],
These and a number more his fancy fed.
To compasse which, his shifts were manifold,
T'a Bull, a Ram, a Swan, a showre of Gold,
To dreadfull Thunder, and consuming fire,
And all to quench his inward flames desire.
Apollo turn'd faire Daphus into a Bay,
Because shee from his Lust did flye away,
Hee lou'd his Hiacinct, and his Coronis,
As feruently as Venus and Adonis,
So much hee from his God-head did decline,
That for a wench he kept Admetus Kine.
And many other gods haue gone astray,
If all he true which Ouids Booke doth say.
Thus to fulfill their Lusts and win their Truls,
Wee see that these vngodly gods were Guls.
The mighty Captaine b of the Mermidons,
Being captiu'd to these base passions,
Met an vntimely vnexpected slaughter,
For faire Polixena, King Priams daughter.
Lucrecia's Rape, was Tarquins ouerthrow,
(Shame often payes the debt that sinne doth owe.)
What Philomela lost, and Tereus wonne,
It causde the luft full Farther c [...]ate his Sonne.
In this vice, Nero tooke such beastly ioy,
He married was to Sporus, a yong Boy.
And d Periander was with Lust so led,
He with Mellissa lay when shee was dead.
Pigmaliou, ewith an Image made of Stone,
Did loue and lodge: (I'le rather lye alone.)
Aristophanes, ioyn'd in loue would be
To a shee Asse: but what an Asse was he?
A Roman f Appius did in Iale abide,
For loue of faire Virginia, where hee dyde.
Our second Henry gAged, Childish, fond,
On the faire feature of faire Rosamond:
That it rais'd most vnnaturall hatefull strife
Betwixt himselfe, his children, and his wife.
The end of which was, that the iealous Queene
Did poyson h Rosamond in furious spleene.
The fourth King Edward lower did descend,
He to a Goldsmiths wife ihis loue did bend.
This sugred sinne hath beene so generall,
That it hath made the strongest Champions fall:
For Sichen rauisht k Dina, for which deed
A number of the Sichemites did bleed.
And Samson, in the prime of manly strength,
By Dalila was ouercome at length.
King Dauid frailely fell, and felt the paine,
And with much sorrow was restor'd againe.
Though Saul his foe he no way would offend,
Yet this sinne made him kill his loyall friend.
Ammon with l m Thamar, Incest did commit,
And Absalon depriu'd his life for it.
And Salomon allow'd most Royall meanes
To keepe three hundred Queenes, seuen hundred queanes,
By whose meanes to Idolatry he fell,
Almost as low as to the gares of Hell.
At last repeating, he makes declaration,
That all was vanity, and spirits vexation.
Aboundance of examples men may finde,
Of Kings and Princes to this vice inclin'd,
[Page 109]Which is no way for meaner men to goe,
Because their betters oft haue wandred so;
For they were plagu'd of God, and so shall we
Much more, if of their sinne we partners be.
To shew what Women haue beene plagued in
The bottomlesse Abysse of this sweet sinne,
There are examples of them infinite,
Which I ne'r meane to read, much lesse to write,
To please the Reader, though I'l set downe some,
As they vnto my memory doe come.
Flora, a Whore in Rome, great wealth did win,
By her deare trading and her Commings in,
Which wealth she freely gaue when she did dye,
Vnto the Roman people generally,
For which they all (to shew their thanks vnto her)
Made her a Goddesse, and did Reuerence doe her.
And L [...]is of Corinth, ask'd Demosthenes
One hundred Crownes for one nights businesse:
For which a crue of Whores did set vpon her,
A Whore she was, and whores to death did stone her.
There was a famous Whore a Rhodope nam'd,
Who for her gaine at such high price she gam'd,
That she (most liberall) did the charges beare,
A stately high Piramides to reare.
Great Iulius Caesar was much ouerseene
With Cleopatra, the AEgyptian Queene:
And after, she insnar'd Marke Antony,
For which, they both by their owne hands did dye.
b Semiramis plaid the inhumane Trull,
And was enamour'd with a beastly Bull:
So did c Pasipha, but me thinks 'tis strange,
That Queenes so farre from womenhood should range.
Muba ( Adonis mother) caus'd her father
The flower of her virginitie to gather.
If wife Vlysses had not well beene arm'd,
Inchanting Circe had his honor charm'd.
When youthfull Paris stole the lustfull Punke,
Faire Hellen, had the ship that bore them sunke,
Then thirty Kings in peace at home had staid,
Nor Troy or Troians in their ruines laid:
Faire d Messalina, a most royall Whore,
(Wife vnto Cla [...]dius the Emperour)
The sports of Venus in the Stewes did play,
Sometimes full fiue and twenty times a day.
Marcus Aurelius did faire Paustine wed,
And she with Whoring did behorne his head.
And many Princes and great Potentates,
With Vulcans crest haue arm'd their noble pates:
This to the poorest Cuck old seemes a bliss,
That he with mighty Monarchs sharer is,
That though to be cornuted be a griefe,
Yet to haue such braue partners is reliefe.
These Whores and Whore-masters which I haue nam'd,
And thousands more (in histories defam'd)
With partiall selfe-opinion did approue,
Their sensuality and Lust was Loue.
When as the ods is more then day from night,
Or fire from water, blacke from purest white.
The one with God, one with the Deuill doth dwell,
Loue comes frō heauen, & lust doth spring from hell.
But the old Prouerbe, ne'r will be forgot,
A Lechers loue is (like Sir Reuerence) hot,
And on the sudden cold as any stone,
For when the lust is past, the loue is gone.
But Loue is such a blessing from on hie,
Who [...]e zealous feruency can neuer die;
It out-liues life, and the ascending flame,
Mounts to the God of Loue, from whence it came.
Lust made * Seths sons, with fornication vaine,
Ioyne with the daughters of accursed Cain.
And the world suffered, for their fornication,
Depopulation, by the inundation.
And twenty and foure thousand Israelites
Dyde for this sinne amongst the a Madi.wites.
For the not punishing this fact (almost)
The Tribe of b Beniamin were slaine and lost.
May this be call'd loue? Then call vertue vice,
And euery bawdy house a Paradise.
If lust were loue, it would not like a Wolfe,
Drowne Louers hearts in desperations Gulfe.
A Theban, c Ha [...]on, himselfe madly kill'd,
On his too deere deers Tombe his heart bloud spild.
For Phaon (a poore Watermans sweet sake)
Faire Sapho from a rocke, her dnecke shee brake.
Phea [...]ra for her Hippoli [...]us, they say,
Did hang her selfe, and make a Holli-day.
And e Phillis for f Demophoon did as much:
Ile neuer loue, if Loues effects be such.
To quench the Carthaginian gQueenes desire,
Shee burnt her selfe vpon a pile of fire.
If either Pr [...]amus, or Thisby had
Not beene starke fooles, or else exceeding mad:
The doting, idle, misconceiuing Elues,
So desperately, had ne'r fore-done themselues.
Thus all the difference betwixt loue and lust,
Is, one is iust, the other is vniust.
Search but in Histories, and men may find
Examples beyond numbring, of this kind,
How of both Sexes, and each state and sort
Of people from the cottage to the Court,
Haue madly run this course; some hang'd, some drownd,
Burnt, staru'd & stab'd thēselues with many a woūd,
[Page 110]Or pin'd away like Coxcombs, euer crauing
To haue the thing, that's neuer worth the hauing.
In Antwerp many filthy Whores I saw,
That for their Trading were allowde by Law.
And I in Pragus did see a street of Whores,
An English mile in length, who at their doores
Did stand and ply (rich clad, and painted rare)
More hard then euer I plyde for a fare.
Th' Italian Stewes (to make the Pope good cheere)
Payd twenty thousand Duckets in a h yeere.
Besides, they giue a Priest (t'amend his fee)
The profit of a Whore, or two, or three.
Me thinkes it must be bad Diuinity,
That with the Stewes hath such affinity.
'Tis a mad Doctrine, Lechery should pay
A Church-mans stipend, that should preach & pray,
And in those stewes, where women are so common,
In entertaining all, refusing no man,
Whereas a father with a Whore may lye,
Which done, his sonne his place may hap supply,
And then an Vnkle, or a Brother may
Succeed each other in that damned play:
For no propinquity, or no degree
Of kin, that haut there, that can sweare th'are free
From this commixion: and, which is worst,
A Whore may haue a bastard, borne and nurst,
And growne a woman, and to this trade set her,
May be a Whore to him that did beget her;
Or to her brothers, or to all her kin,
Shee may be prostituted in this sin.
And therefore to conclude this point, I muse
That Christian Common-wealths allow a Stewes.
I thinke that Thieues as well allow'd should be,
As Whores and Whoremasters should thus be free.
They from the Heathen doe examples bring,
That Whoring is a rare commodious thing,
There was an ancient vse in Babylon,
When as a womans stocke was spent and gone,
Her liuing it was lawfull then to get,
Her carkasse out to liuerie to let,
And Venus did allow the Cyprian Dames,
To get their liuings by their bodies shames.
Lieurgus did a Law in Sparta make,
That all men might their barren wiues forsake:
And by the same Law it ordained was,
Wiues might vnable husbands turne to grasse.
And the wise Solon the Athenian,
Allow'd whores to be free for any man.
And though these things the Pagan people did,
Yet Christian gouernments these things forbid.
But ther's no Common-wealth maintains the same,
But where the aPope is Landlord of the game.
The Stewes in England bore a beastly sway,
Till the eight b Henry banish'd them away:
And since those common whores were quite put downe,
A damned crue of priuate whores are growne,
So that the diuell will be doing still,
Either with publique or with priuate ill.
Thus much for whoring I must say agen,
It hath produced many valiant men:
Braue Bastards haue beene famous Conquerours,
And some great Lords, and Kings, and Emperours.
As Hercules Ioues mighty Bastard-sonne,
And c Alexander King of Macedon:
Clodouee King of France, from Bastardie,
And William Conqueror, from Normandie.
These, and a number more I could recite,
Besides the vnknowne numbers infinite.
And sure that wretched man that married is
Vnto a wife dispos'd to this amiss,
Is mad to wrong himselfe at all thereby,
With heart-griefe and tormenting iealousie.
If he hath cause for't, let him then forsake her,
And pray God mend her, or the diuell take her:
If she hath no cause to be iealous then,
He's worthy to be made the scorne of men.
Thus cause or no cause, man himselfe should arme,
That iealousie should neuer doe him harme.
The Nicholaitans, to auoid the paine
Of iealousie, amongst them did ordaine,
That all their married wiues, of each degree,
To euery one a common Whore should be.
And so amongst them one could hardly finde,
A Cuckold that did beare a iealous minde.
When I but thinke what Sciences, and Arts,
What men and women, full of ex'lent parts,
Forget their functions, lay their vertues by,
And wait and liue, and thriue by Lecherie.
A Poets Art, all other Arts excell,
If he hath skill and grace to vse it well:
Yet many times 'tis vs'd most base and vile,
When it descends vnto a bawdy stile,
To turne good humane studies, and diuine,
Into most beastly lines, like Aretine;
To seeke to merit euer-liuing Bayes,
For sordid stuffe (like Ouids lustfull Layes.)
With false bewitching verses to entice
Fraile creatures from faire vertue to foule vice,
Whose flattry makes a Whore to seeme a Saint,
That stinkes like carrion, with her Pox and paint.
Comparing her (with false and odious lies)
To all that's in or vnderneath the skies,
Her eyes to Sunnes, that doe the Sunne Eclips,
Her Cheekes are Roses (Rubies are her lips)
Her white and red Carnation mixt with snow,
Her teeth to orientall pearle, a Row,
Her voice like Musicke of the heau'nly Spheares,
[Page 111]Her haire like thrice refined golden Wires,
Her breath more sweet then Arromaticke drugs,
[...]ile Mounts of Alabaster are her dugs,
Her Bracelets, Rings, her Scarfe, her Fan, her Chaine,
Are subiects to inspire a Poets braine:
But aboue all, her Smock most praise doth win,
For 'tis the Curtaine next vnto her skin.
Her loose Gowne, for her looser body fit,
Shall be adored with a flash of wit,
And from the chin-clowt, to the lowly Slipper,
[...] Hdicorian streames his praise shall dip her.
Leaue vnnam'd what is affected best,
[...] 'tis most sit, for it maintaines the rest;
Her thighs, her knees, her legs, her feet, and all,
[...]ro [...]top to toe are supernaturall.
Her Iuory hands, with saphire veines inlaid,
Which cannot be by mortall pen displaid.
Her smile makes cold December Summer like,
Her frown, hot Iune with shiuering [...]rost can strike,
[...]ed life, and death doth in her lookes abide,
[...]r many Knaues and Fooles that said so, lyde.
[...] Shapperoones, her Perriwigs and Tires,
[...] Reliques, which this flatt'ry much admires,
[...]atoes, Maske her Busk and Busk-point too,
[...] things to which mad men must homage doe.
[...]t Verdingale her Garters, Shooes and Roses;
[...]et Girdle that her wastfull waste incloses.
[...]ot one of these but's honour'd with a Sonet,
[...] the said poet be but set vpon it.
Another seeks to win his Wenches will,
With oy lie Oratories smoothing skill.

As thus.

MOst inestimable Magazin of beauty, rare Ma­ster-piece of nature, perfections wonder, and [...]s Quintessence, in whom the port and maiestie [...] Iuno, the feature of Citherea, the wisdome of [...]ues Braine-bred a Girle, the chastitie of Diana, [...]d the constancie of Lucretia, haue their dome­ [...]tall habitation, who with the Goddesses art [...] side, with the Graces graced, with the Vertues [...]llifide, with the Muses honored, and with the [...]ses admired: vouchsase, dread Empresse of my [...]fection, to pardon the intrusiue boldnesse of my stun'd tongue (which was neuer tipt with the [...]urtly Glosse of Adulation) who being the Am­ [...]sadour of my heart, doth prostrate my selfe and [...] best seruices to be disposed of at your great com­ [...]ands: and as the Refulgent beames of Titan [...]he parity of obscurity, soone glance or glimpse the translucencie of your eyes sun-dezeling cor­ruscancy, will exile all the cloudie vapours of heart­tormenting moody melancholly; that like an vsur­ping Tyrant, hath captiuated your humble suppli­ant, thus seruently to implore your Clemency.

Here's a sweet deale of scimble scamble stuffe,
To please my Lady Wagtayle (marry muffe)
Gep with the * Grinkcomes (but I speake too late)
This kinde of flatt'ry makes a whore take state,
Growes pocky pround, and in such port doth beare her,
That such poore scabs as I, must not come neere her.
Thus may shee liue, (much honour'd for her crimes)
And haue the Pox some twelue or 13 times,
And shee may be so bountifull agen;
To sell those Pox to three or fourescore men:
And thus the Surgcons may get more by farre,
By Whores and Peace, then by the sword and warre.
And thus a Whore (if men consider of it)
Is an increasing gainfull piece of profit,
But of all Whores that I haue nam'd before,
There's none so cunning as the Citie Whore,
Shee hath so many seuerall sorts of Bawds,
To cloake and couer her deceipts and frauds,
That sure the Deuill cannot more deuise
Then shee, to blind her horned husbands eyes.
One offers Purles to sell, and fine Bone-lace,
And whispers that her Friend's in such a place:
A second offers Starch, and tels her how
Her sweet-heart tarries for her at the Plow:
A third sels Wafers, and a fourth hath Pins,
And with these tricks these Bawds admittance wine
That had her Husband Argos eyes, yet he
By these deceiuers should deceiued be.
If all these faile, a begger-woman may,
A sweet loue letter to her hands conuay.
Or a near Laundresse, or a Hearbwife can,
Carry a sleeuelesse message now and then.
Or if this faile, her teeth may ake (for sooth)
And then the Barbar must come draw a Tooth:
Or else shee may be sicke (vpon condition)
That such a Doctor may be her Physition,
He feeles her pulses, and applyes his trade
With Potions which th' Apothecary made;
All's one for that, her health shee quickly gaines,
Her Husband payes the Doctor for his paines.
But of all Bawds, Gold is the Bawd indeed,
It seldome speakes but it is sure to speed:
It can blind Watches, open bolts and locks,
Breake walls of stone, as hard as Marble rocks:
Make Iron barres giue way, and gates fly ope,
Giues Lust the reynes to run with boundlesse scope,
Kils Iealousie, appeases Riuals, and
Doth what the owners will or can command,
[Page 112]And last of all, it stops the biting iawes
Of the inst rigorous, and seuerest Lawes.
I therefore say. He that hath golden pelfe,
Hath a good Bawd, if so he please himselfe:
Those that haue gold, can want no Bawds or Queās
Except they vse a meane, to guide their meanes.
To end this point, this consequence Ile grant,
Those that haue golden Bawds, no whores can want.
And though the mighty power of gold be such,
Yet Siluer (many times) can doe as much:
Thus euery * wealthy Whoremaster may beare
His Bawd in's purse, or pocket any where.
For mine owne part, I liue not in such want,
But that I eate and sleepe, though coyne be scant:
And 'cause I want the Bawd I nam'd before,
By consequence I needs must want the Whore:
And wanting of them both, I hope to bee,
From Gowts, Pox, and extortion euer free.
But as there's wondrous difference in mens meat,
So is the ods of Whores exceeding great:
Some Rampant, & some Couchant, and some Passant,
Some Guardant, & some Dormant, & some Cressant.
Some Pendant, some (a Pox on't) but the best on't,
A priuate Whore, trades safely, there's the iest on't.
Besides, as Whores are of a seuerall cut,
So fitting Titles on them still are put:
For if a Princes loue to her decline,
For manners sake shee's call'd a Co [...]cubine:
If a great Lord, or Knight, affect a Whore,
Shee must be term'd his Honours Paramore:
The rich Gull Gallant call's her Dear and Loue,
Ducke, Lambe, Squall, Sweet-heart, Cony, and his Doue:
A pretty wench she's with the Country-man,
And a Kind Sister with the Puritane,
She's a Priests Lemman, and a Tinkers Pad,
Or Dell, or Doxy (though the names bee bad)
And amongst Souldiers, this sweet piece of Vice
Is counted for a Captaines Cockatrice.
But the mad Rascall, when hee's fiue parts drunke,
Cals her his Drah, his Queane, his Iill, or Punke,
And in his fury'gins to rayle and rore, [...]
Then with full mouth, he truely call's her Whore:
And so I leaue her, to her hot desires,
' [...]Mongst Pimps, and Panders, and base Applesquires,
To mend or end, when age or Pox will make her
Detested, and Whore-masters all forsake her.

A comparison betwixt a Whore and a Booke.

ME thinks I heare some Cauiller obiect,
That 'tis a name absurd and indirect,
To giue a Booke the Title of a Whore:
When sure I thinke no Name befits it more.
For like a Whore by day-light, or by Candle,
'Tis euer free for euery knaue to handle:
And as a new whore is belon'd and sought,
So is a new Booke in request and bought.
When whores wax old and stale, they're out of date,
Old Pamphlets are most subiect to such fate,
As Whores haue Panders to emblaze their worth,
So these haue Stationers to set them forth,
And as an old whore may be painted new
With borrowed beauty, faire vnto the view,
Whereby shee for a fine fresh whore may passe,
Yet is shee but the rotten whore shee was.
So Stationers, their old cast Bookes can grace,
And by new Titles paint a-fresh their face.
Whereby for currant they are past away.
As if they had come forth but yesterday.
A Booke is dedicated, now and than
To some great worthy, or vnworthy man:
Yet for all that, 'tis common vnto mee,
Or thee, or hee, or all estates that bee:
And so a man may haue a Whore (forsooth)
Supposing shee is onely for his tooth:
But if the truth hee would seeke out and looke,
She's common vnto all men, like a Booke.
A Booke with gawdy coate, and silken strings,
Whose inside's full of obsceane beastly things,
Is like a whore, Caparison'd and trap'd,
Full of infection, to all mischiefe apt.
As one whore may bee common vnto any,
So one Booke may bee dedicate to many.
And sure I say, and hope I speake no slander,
To such a Booke, the Poet is the Pander.
He prostitutes his muse to euery one,
Which should be constant vnto one alone:
This is a kind of Bawd'ry vile and base,
Kils bounty, and is Poetryes disgrace.
And left they should be lost, it is ordain'd,
That Bookes within a Library are chain'd;
So he that to himselfe will keepe a Whore,
Must chaine her, or shee'le trade with forty more.
As Bookes are lease by lease oft turn'd and tost,
So are the Garments of a Whore (almost:)
For both of them, with a wet finger may
Be folded or vnfolded, night or day.
Moreouer, 'tis not very hard to proue,
That Bookes and Whores may Riuals be in Loue;
(To purchase mens displeasure I am loth)
But sure good Schollers still haue lou'd them both
Some Bookes haue their Errates at the last,
That tell their errors and offences past.
So many great Whores did in state suruiue,
But when death did their hatefull liues depriu [...],
Their faults escap'd and their Errates then
Haue beene made manifest and knowne to men.
Some Bookes and Whores to wicked purpose her,
Doe, for their faults, receiue one punishment.
[Page 113] [...] Bukes are often burnt, and quite forgotten,
[...] Whore are ouer-stew'd or rosted rotten.
[...] experience shewes that Bookes much knowledge brings,
[...]nd by experience Whores know many things.
[...] as [...]ed Iustice, all mens losse repaires,
[...] whores doe giue to all men what is theirs.
[...] shee learnes, yet will shee much rebuke vs,
[...] I wee doe play the part of true Eunuchus.
[...] Bookes prophane, or else Hereticall,
[...] so [...]ilous, non-sense, Schismaticall,
[...]erts man Iudgement, and his soule pollutes,
[...]ch are all Whores, and such will be their fruits.
[...] one Slouens soyle a Booke in little space,
[...]nd slauer it, and so the Leaues deface:
[...]nd some againe will take a cleanly course
[...]o read it dayly, yet tis ne'r the worse.
[...] some man vse a Whore, when once they haue her,
[...]They'le touze and teare, and beastly all beslauer,
When forty neat Whoremasters might haue play'd
[...]nd vsde her, and shee still be thought a maide.
[...] that doth read a Booke he likes, would be
[...]loue from any Interruption free;
[...]nd hee that with a Whore would toy or lye,
[...] thinke desires other Company.
[...] When Bookes are wet, their beauties gone or soyl'd,
[...], wash a whore, and all her paintings sooyl'd:
[...]nd as an old Whore (spight of Paint and cloathing)
[...]als at the last, the obiect of mens loathing,
[...]scorn'd and vnpittied, and to finish all,
[...]yes in Ditch, or in an Hospitall:
[...] Pamphlets, and some workes of writers Graue,
[...]re vsde much worse then Whores by many a Knaue:
Who ne'r regard the matter or the price,
[...]ot teare like Tyrants, to wrap Drugs or Spice,
[...] which is worse, in Priuie matters vse them,
[...] worst of all, like Roarers they abuse them:
When as they rend good Bookes to light and dry
[...] [...] (Englands ds bainefull Diety.)
And 'tis a thing I ne'r thought on before,
A * Booke's examin'd stricter then a Whore:
There's not a Sheet, a Lease, a Page, a Verse,
A word, or sillable, or letter (scarce)
But that (Authority) with Iudgements eye,
Doth diligently looke, and search, and pry,
And gage the sense, and first will vnderst nd all,
Lest in a Phrase, or word, there lurke a scandall.
And my poore Whore in this hath not beene spar'd,
Her skirts were curtaild, & hee nayles were *par'd.
All's one for that, though shee such vsage had,
Shee's not left naked, though not richly clad,
I knew shee must be question'd, and I say,
I am right glad shee scap'd so well away.
And should ail Whores of high and low degree,
(As Bookes are) to account thus called bee,
The whorish number would waxe very small,
Or else men neuer could examine all.
This Booke my Whore, or else this Whore my Booke,
(Shee beares both names, so neither is mistooke)
Respects not all her enemies a straw,
If shee offended, shee hath had the Law,
She was examin'd, and shee did confesse,
And had endur'd the torture of the Presse:
Her faults are printed vnto all mens sight,
Vnpartially declar'd in blacke and white:
And last, in Pauls Church-yard, and in the streets,
Shee suffers Penance vp and downe in Sheets.
And if all Whores to doe the like were made,
A Linnen Draper were the richest Trade.
If any Whore be honcster then mine is,
Ile write no more, but stop my mouth with
FINIS.

An arrant Thiefe, whom euery Man may trust: In Word and Deed exceeding true and iust. With a Comparison betweene a Thiefe and a Booke.

THis Water m Rat, (or Art) I would commend,
But that I know not to begin or end:
He read his Verses to me, and which more is,
Did moue my Muse to write Laudem Authoris,
[Page 114]If for his Land Discoueries * she should praise him,
Whether would then his liquid knowledge raise him?
Read his two Treatises of Theefe and Whore,
You'l thinke it time for him to leaue his Oare.
Yet thus much of his worth I cannot smother,
'Tis well for vs when Theeues peach one another.
This Preface is but poore, 'tis by a Boy done,
That is a Scholler of the Schoole of Cloydon,
Who when he hath more yeeres and learning got,
Hee'l praise him more or lesse, or not a ist.

Giuen vpon Shroue Tuesday from our seate, in the second Forme of the famous free Schoole of Croydon.

By RICHARD HATTON.
WHen a fresh Waterman doth turn Saltpict,
His Muse must prattle all the world [...] know it:
Of Whores and Theeues (he writes two merry B [...]
He loues them both, I know it by his lookes.
Alas, I wrong him! blame my Muse, not we,
She neuer spake before, and rude may be.

Giuen from the lowe estated [...] the fift Forme neere to the Schoole doore at Croydon beforesaid.

By GEORGE HATTON.

TO THE HOPEFVLL PAIRE OF BRE­THREN, AND MY WORTHY PATRONES, Master RICHARD, and GEORGE HATTON, Loue, Learning, and true Happinesse.

Your Muses, th'one a Youth, and one an Infant,
Gaue me two Panegericks at one Instant:
The first Pen, the first line it pleas'd to walke in,
Did make my * Art a Rat, and like Grimalkin,
Or a kinde needfull Vermin-coursing Cat.
By Art I play, but will not care your Rat.
I thanke you that you did so soone determine,
To Anagram my Art into a Vermine,
For which I vow, if e're you keeps a Dayrie,
Of (now and then) a Cheese I will impaire yee.
Kinde M r. George, your Muse must be exalted,
My Poetry you very well haue salted.
Salt keeps things sweet, & makes them rellish sau'ry,
And you haue powdred well my honest [...]na [...].
I thanke you to, nor will I be ingratefull,
Whilest Rime or Reason deignes to fill my pare full
You truly say that I loue Whores and Thieues well,
And half your speech I think the world belieus wel.
For should I hate a Thiefe, Thieues are so commos,
I well could neither loue my selfe or no man;
But for Whores loue, my purse would neuer hold o [...].
They'l Cheat and picke the Siluer and the Gold o [...].
You both haue grac'd my Thiefe, he hath confessed,
You (like two Shrieues) conuay'd him to be Prised
In mirth you write to me, on small Requesting,
For which I thanke you both, in harmlesse Iesting,
And may your Studies to such goodnesse raise you,
That God may euer loue, and good men praise you.

Yours, when you will, where you will in what you will, as you will with your will, against your will; at this time, at any time, at all time or sometimes, in pastimes.

IOHN TAYLOR.

To any Reader Hee or Shee, It makes no matter what they bee.

WHen you open this first leafe, imagine you are come within the doore of my house, where according as you behaue your selues, you are courteously wel­come, or you may lay downe the Booke, and got the same way you came: the flattering of Readers, or begging their acceptance, is an argument that the ware is scarce good which the Author meanes to vtter, or that it is a Cheape yeere of wit, and his lyes vpon his hands, which makes him pittifuly, like Suppliant to begin, Honorably Complaineth to your Humblenes, ('tis but mista­ken the first should be last.) Some men haue demanded of me, why I doe write vpon such slight subiects, as the Praise of Hempseed. The Trauailes of Twelue-pence. Taylors [...]oose. The Antiquity of Begging. A Cormorant. A Common Whore. And now an an arrant Thiefe? To whom I answer here, that many Graue and excellent Writers haue imployed their Studies to good purposes in as triuiall matters as my selfe; and I am as­sured that the meaner the subiect is, the better the Inuention must bee, for (as Tom Nash [...]id) euery Foole can fetch Water out of the Sea, or picke Corne out of full Sheaues, but to [...]ing Oyle out of Flint, or make a plentifull Haruest with little or no Seed, that's the Work­ [...]an but that's not I. And Gentlemen, as I lately sent you a Whore that was honest, so haue now sent you a Thiefe, that will neuer Rob you, nor picke your Pockets of more then you are willing to part withall.

Yours at all good times: IOHN TAYLOR.

A THIEFE.

Lately to the world did send a a whore,
And she was welcom, though she was but poore,
And being so, it did most strange appeare
That pouerty found any welcome here,
But when I saw that many Rich men sought
My whore, & with their coyne her freedome bought,
I mus'd, but as the cause I out did ferrit
I found some Rich in Purse, some poore in merit,
Some earned Schollers, some that scarce could spell:
Yet all did loue an honest whore, right well,
[Page 116]Twas onely such as those that entertain'd her,
Whilest scornfull Kuaues, & witlesse Fooles disdain'd her.
Now to defend her harmelesse Innocence,
I send this Thiefe to be her Iust defence:
Against all true-men, and I'l vndertake
There are not many that dare answer make.
Then rowze my Muse, be valiant, and be briefe,
Be confident, my true and constant Thiefe;
Thy trade is scartred, vniuersally;
Throughout the spacious worlds Rotundity,
For all estates and functions great and small,
Are for the most part Thieues in generall,
Excepting Millers, Weauers, Taylers, and
Such true trades as no stealing vnderstand.
Thou art a Thiefe (my Booke) and being so
Thou findst thy fellowes wheresoeu'r thou goe:
Birds of a feather still will hold together,
And all the world with thee are of a feather:
The ods is, thou art a Thiefe by nomination,
And most of men are Thieues in their vocation.
Thou neither dost cog, cheat, steale, sweare orlye,
Or gather'st goods by false dishonesty,
And thou shalt liue when many of the Crue
Shall in a Halter bid the world Adue.
And now a thought into my minde doth fall,
To proue whence Thieues haue their originall:
I finde that Iupiter did watonly
On Maya get a sonne call'd Mercury,
To whom the people oft did [...]acrifice,
Accounting him the God of Merchandize:
Of Eloquence, and rare inuention sharpe,
And that he first of all deuis'd the Harpe.
The God of Tumbless, Iuglers, fooles and Iesters,
Of Thieues and fidlers that the earth bepesters,
Faire Venus was his Sister, and I finde
He was to her so much vnkindely kinde,
That hee on her beg at Her [...],
As Ouid very wittily doth write:
His wings on head and heeles true Emblems bee,
How quick he can inuent, how quickly flee:
By him are Thieues inspirde, and from his gift
They plot to steale and run away most swift:
In their conceits and fleights, no men are sharper,
Each one as nimble-finger'd as a Harper.
Thus Thieuing is not altogether base,
But is descended from a lofty Race.
Moreouer euery man, himselfe doth show
To be the Sonne of Adam, for wee know
He stole the Fruit, and euer since his Seed,
To steale from one another haue agreed.
Our Infancy is Theft, 'tis manifest
Wee crie and Rob our Parents of their Rest:
Our Childe-hood Robs vs of our Infancy,
And youth doth steale out childe-hood wantonly:
Then Man-hood pilfers all our youth away,
And middle-age our Man-hood doth conuay
Vnto the Thieuing hands of feeble age:
Thus are wee all Thieues, all our Pilgrimage,
In all which progresse many times by stealth,
Strange sicknesses doe Rob vs of our health.
Rage steales our Reason, Enuy thinkes it fit
To steale our Loue, whilest Foliy steales our wit.
Pride filcheth from vs our Humility,
And Lechery doth steale our honesty,
Base Auarice, our Conscience doth purloin,
Whilest sloth to steale our mindes from work doth ioy [...]
Time steales vpon vs, whilest wee take small care,
And makes vs old before wee be aware:
Sleepe and his brother Death conspite our fall.
The one steales halfe our liues, the other all.
Thus are wee Robb'd by Morpheus, and by Mu [...],
Till in the end, each Corps is but a Coarse,
Note but the seasons of the yeere, and see
How they like Thieues to one another bee;
From Winters frozen face, through snow & showers
The Spring doth steale roots, plants, buds & flowers
Then Summer Robs the Spring of natures sute,
And haruest Robs the Suramer of his fruite,
Then Winter comes againe, and he bereaues
The Haruest of the Graine, and Trees of Leaues,
And thus these seasons Rob each other still
Round in their course, like Horses in a mill.
The Elements, Earth, Water, Ayre, and Fire
To rob each other daily doe conspire:
The fiery Sun from th' Ocean, and each Riuer
Exhales their Waters, which they all deliuer:
This water, into Clowdes the Ayre doth steale,
Where it doth vnto Snow or Haile congeale,
Vntill at last Earth robs the Ayre againe
Of his stolne Treasure, Haile, Sleete, Snow or Ri [...]
Thus be it hot or cold, or dry or wet,
These Thieues, from one another steale and get
Night robs vs of the day, and day of night:
Light pilfers darknes, and the darknes light.
Thus life, death, seasons, and the Elements,
And day and night, for Thieues are presidents.
Two arrant Thieues we euer beare about vs,
The one within, the other is without vs;
All that we get by toyle, or industry,
Our Backes and Bellies steale continually:
For though men labour with much care and carke
Lie with the Lamb downe, rise vp with the Lar [...],
Sweare and forsweare, deceaue, and lie and cog,
And haue a Conscience worse then any Dog,
Be most vngracious, extreme vile and base,
And (so he gaine) not caring for disgrace:
Let such a Man or Woman count their gaines,
They haue but meat, and raiment for their paines.
No more haue they that doeliue honestest,
Those that can say their Cousciences are best,
Their Bellies and their Backes, day, night and hou [...],
The fruits of all their labours doe deuoure:
These Thieues doe rob vs, with our owne good will,
And haue dame natures warrant for it still,
[...] crimes these Sharks do: worke each others wrack,
[...] reuening Belly, often robs the backe:
Will feed like Diues, with Quaile, Raile, & Pheasant,
[...]be [...] all tarter'd like a Peasant.
Sometimes the gawdy Backe mans Belly pines,
[...]which he often with Duke Humphrey dines:
[...] whilest the mind defends this hungry stealth,
[...] s [...]ies a temp'rate dyet maintaines health,
[...] cry, let guts with famine mourne,
[...] maw's vnseene, good outsides must be worne,
[...] these Thieues rob vs, and in this pother
[...]mind consents, and then they rob each other:
[...] [...]knowledge and our learning (oft by chance)
[...] steale and rob vs of our ignorance:
[...] ignorance may sometimes gaine promotion
There it is held the mother of deuotion)
[...] [...]knowledge ioyn'd with learning, are poore things,
[...]at many times a man to begg'ry brings:
[...] fortune very oft doth iustly fit
[...]l to haue all the wo [...], some all the wit.
[...] robs some men, into it list,
[...]eales their coyne (as Thieues doe) in a mist:
[...] men to rob the pot will ne'r refraine,
Still the pot rob them of all againe.
[...]rodigall can steale exceeding briefe,
[...]ks his owne purse, and is his owne deare Thiefe:
And thus within vs, and without vs we
[...] Thieues, and by Thieues alwaies pillag'd be.
[...] then vnto the greatest Thieues of all,
Those Th [...]y is most high and capitall:
[...] that for pomp, and Titles transitory,
[...]your Almighty Maker of his Glory,
[...] giue the honour due to him alone,
[...]to a carued block, a stock or stone,
[...]image, a similitude, or feature
Angell Saint, or Man, or any creature,
[...] Altars, Lamps, to Holy-bread, or Waters,
[...] shrines, or tapers, of such iugling matters,
[...] reliques of the dead, or of the liuing;
[...]is is the most supremest kind of Thieuing.
[...]esides they all commit this fellony,
[...]t breake the Sabbath day maliciously,
[...] giues vs six daies, and himselfe hath one,
[...]herein he would (with thanks) be call'd vpon:
[...] those that steale that day to bad abuses,
[...] God of honour, without all excuses:
Into these Thieues, my Thiefe doth plainly tell,
But though they hang not here, they shall in hell,
Accept repentance, (and vnworthy Guerdon
[...]rough our Redeemers merits) gaine their pardon.
[...] there's a crue of Thieues that prie and lurch,
And steale and share the liuings of the Church;
These are hells factors merchants of all euill,
Rob God of soules, and giue them to the Deuill,
For where the tythe of many a Parish may
Allow a good sufficient Preacher pay,
Yet hellish pride, or lust, or auarice,
Or one or other foule licencious vice,
Robs learning, robs the people of their reaching,
(Who in seuen yeeres perhaps doe heare no preaching)
When as the Parsonage by account is found
Yeerely worth two, three or foure hundred pound,
Yet are those Soules seru'd, or else staru'd, I feare,
With a poore a Reader for eight pounds a yeere.
A Preacher breakes to vs the Heau'nly Bread,
Whereby our straying Soules are taught and fed:
And for this heau'nly worke of his, 'tis sence
That men allow him earthly recompence.
For shall he giue vs food that's spirituall,
And not haue meanes to feed him corporall?
No sure: (of all men) 'tis most manifest,
A painfull Churchman earnes his wages best.
Those that keepe backe the Tythes, I tell them true,
Are arrant Thieues in robbing God of'd due:
For he that robs Gods Church (t'encrease his pelfe)
'Tis most apparent, he robs God himselfe.
The Patron oft deales with his Minister
As Dionisius with b Iupiter.
He stole his golden Cloake, and put on him
A Coat of cotton, (nothing neere so trim)
And to excuse his theft, he said the gold
Was (to be worne) in Winter time, too cold.
But in the Summer, 'twas too hot and heauy,
And so some Patrones vse the tribe of Leuy:
That for the Winters cold, or Summers heat,
They are so pold, they scarce haue cloathes & mout.
Amongst the rest, there may some pastors be.
Who enter in through cursed Simonie:
But all such are notorious Thieues therefore,
They climb the wall, & not come through the c dore:
Thus Meuelaus did the Priest hood win
From Iason, by this simonayck sin,
For he did pay three hundred tallents more
Then Iason would (or could) disburse therefore.
And many a'mitred Pope and Cardinall
This way haue got their state Pontificall:
These rob and steale, for which all good men grieues,
And make the house of prayer a den of Thieues.
But though the Hangman, here they can out-face,
Yet they shall all hang in a worser place.
[Page 118]Then there are Thieues, who make the Church their gaines,
Who can preach well, yet will not take the paines:
Dumb dogs, or rau'ning wolues, whose carelesse care
Doth fat themselues, & keepe their flocks most bare.
Besides Church-wardens, with a griping fist,
Like Thieues may rob their Vestry, if they list,
The poores neglector (O I pardon craue)
Collector I should say, may play the knaue,
The Thiefe I would haue said, but chuse you whether,
He may be both, and so he may be neither.
So leaning Church- Thieues, with their cursed stealth,
I'll now descend vnto the Common wealth.
And yet me thinkes I should not passe the Court,
But sure Thieues dare not thither to resort.
But of all Thieues in any Kings Dominion.
A flatterer is a curpurse of opinion,
That like a pick-pocket, doth lye and wayte,
To steale himselfe into a mans conceit.
This Thiefe will often dawbe a great mans vice,
Or rate his vertue at too low a price,
Or at too high a pitch his worth will raise,
To fill his eares with flatt'ry any wayes.
Surueyors, and Purueyors, now and then
May steale, and yet be counted honest men.
When men doe for their liuing labour true.
He's a base Thiefe, that payes them not their due.
They are all Thieues, that liue vpon the fruits
Of Monopolies, of vngodly suits.
The Iudge or Iustice that do bribes desire.
Like Thieues, deserue a halter for their hire.
A Reuerend Father, worthy of beleeuing.
Said, Taking bribes was Gentleman-like Thieuing.
A Merchant now and then his goods may bring.
And steale the custome, and so rob the King.
Thieues they are all, that scrape and gather treasures,
By wares deceitfull, or false weights or measures.
That Landlord is a Thiefe that rackes his rents.
And mounts the price of rotten tenements,
Almost vnto a damned double rate,
And such a Thiefe as that *, my selfe had late.
A paire of louers, are starke Thieues, for they
Doe kindly steale each others heart away.
Extortioners, I Thieues may truly call,
Who take more int'rest then the principall.
Executors, and ouer-seers Thieuing,
Haue often wrong'd the dead, and rob'd the liuing.
All those within the ranke of Thieues must be,
That trust their wares out from three months to three,
And make their debtors thrice the worth to pay,
Because they trust them, these are Thieues I say,
That doe fell time, which vnto God belongs,
And begger whom they trust most, with these wrongs.
He is a Thiefe, and basely doth purloyne,
Who borroweth of his neighbours goods, or coy [...]
And can, but will no satisfaction giue,
These are the most notorious Thieues that liues
Vpon such Thieues (if Law the same allow'd)
A hanging were exceeding well bestow'd,
A Farmer is a Thiefe, that hoards vp graine
In hope of dearth, by either drouth or raine,
He steales Gods treasures, and doth quite forget,
That ouer them hee's but a Steward set,
And for this rob'ry he deserues to weare
A riding knot an inch below his eare.
Of drinking, Thieues exceeding, store there are,
That steale themselues drunke e're they be aware:
These are right rob-pots, rob-wits, and rob-purses,
To gaine diseases, begg'ry, and Gods curses.
Drawers, and Tapsters too are Thieues I thinke,
That nick their pots, and cheatmen of their drinks
And when guests haue th [...] liquor in their braine,
Steale pots halfe full, to fill them vp againe.
Though this be Thieu'ry, yet I must confesse,
'Tis honest Thift to punish Drunkennesse.
And of small Thieues, the Tapster I preferre,
He is a Drunkards executioner.
For whilest his money lasts, he much affects him,
Then, with the rod of pouerty corrects him.
A Chamberlaine vnto his guests may creepe,
And pick their pockets, when th'are drunke asleepe [...]
But amongst Thieues, that are of low repute,
An Hostler is a Thieues, most absolute:
He with a candles end Horse teeth can grease,
They shall eat neither hay, oates, beanes, or pe [...],
Besides a hole ith Manger, and a Bag
Hang'd vnderneath, may coozen many a Nag,
And specially, if in a Stable darke,
If one doe not the Hostlers knau'ry marke,
He will deceiue a man, before his faoe,
On the peck's bottome, some few out's hee'l pl [...],
Which seemes as if it to the brim were full,
And thus the knaue both man and horse will gulf,
If he breake horse-bread, he can thus much doe,
Amongst fiue loaues, his codpiece swallowes two
The Hostler sayes the horse hath one good tricke,
Quicke at his meat, he needs must trauell quicke
If men, at full racke for their horse-meat pay,
So hard into the racke hee'l tread the Hay,
That out, the poore beasts cannot get a bit,
And th'Hostler's held an honest man for it,
For who would thinke the horses want their right,
When as the racke is still full, day and night?
[Page 119]With bottles, if men will haue horses sed,
[...]each a groats-worth ere they goe to bed,
[...] Thiefs Hostler can rob horse and men,
[...] steale the bottles from the racke agen,
[...] put in Hay that's pist vpon, I wot,
Which being dry'd no horse will eat a iot.
And all such Hostlers, wheresoe'r they bee,
[...]feme a horses night-cap for their fee.
[...] stole a wife, and married her in poast,
[...] hanging had bin better stolne, almost:
[...] her he might and day was long perplex'd,
[...]ted scolded at, defam'd, and vext,
That (in comparison of all his paine)
[...] friendly hanging had beene mighty gaine.
There's an old speech, a Tayler is a Thiefe,
And an old speech he hath for his reliefe,
[...]dlnot equiuocate, I'll glue him's due,
[...]He (truly) steales not, or he steales not, true. *
Those that report so, mighty wrong doe doe him,
For how can he steale that, that's brought vnto him?
And it may be they were false idle speeches,
That one brought Cotton once, to line his Breeches,
And that the Tayler laid the Cotton by,
And with old painted Cloth, the roome supply,
Which as the owner (for his vse) did weare,
Anayle or seeg, by chance his breech did teare,
At which he saw the linings, and was worth,
For Diues and Lazarus on the painted Cloth,
The Gluttons dogs, and hels fire hotly burning,
With fiends and flesh hookes, whence there's no returning.
He rip'd the other breech, and there he spide
The pamper'd Prodigall on cockhorse ride:
There was his fare, his fidlers, and his whores,
His being poore, and beaten out of doores,
His keeping hogs, his eating huskes for meat,
His lamentation and his home retreat,
His welcome to his father, and the feast,
The farcalfe kill'd, all these things were exprest.
These transformations fild the man with feare,
That he hell-fire within his breech * should beare,
He mus'd what strange inchantments he had bin in,
That turn'd his linings, into painted linnen.
His feare was great, but at the last to rid it,
A Wizard told him, 'twas the Tayler did it.
One told me of a *miller that had power
Sometimes to steale fiue bushels out of foure:
As once a windmill (out of breath) lack'd winde,
A fellow brought foure bushels there to grinde,
And hearing neither noyse of knap or tiller,
Laid downe his corne, and went to seeke the miller:
Some two flight-shoot to th'Alchouse he did wag,
And left his sacke in keeping with his Nag,
The miller came a by-way vp the hill,
And saw the sacke of corne stand at the mill,
Perceiuing none that could his thest gaine-say,
For toll tooke bagge and grift, and all away.
And a crosse-way vnto the Alchouse hy'd him,
Whereas the man that sought him, quickly spide him.
Kind miller (quoth the man) I left but now
A sacke of wheat, and I intreat that thou
Wilt walke vp to the mill where it doth lye,
And grinde it for me now the winde blowes hye.
So vp the hill they went, and quickly found
The bagge and corne, stolne from the ground vngroun'd.
The poore man with his losse was full of griefe,
He, and the miller went to seeke the Thiefe,
Or else the corne: at last all tyr'd and sad,
(Seeking both what he had not, and he had)
The miller (to appease or ease his paine)
Sold him one bushell * of his owne againe.
Thus out of foure the man fiue bushels lost,
Accounting truely all his corne and cost.
To mend all of this Thieuing millers brood,
One halfe houres hauging would be very good.
But there's a kind of steaking mysticall,
Pick-pocket wits, filch lines Sophisticall,
Villaines in verse, base runagates in rime,
False rob-wits, and contemned slaues of time,
Purloyning Thieues, that pilser from desart
The due of study, and reward of art.
Pot Poets, that haue skill to steale translations,
And (into English) filch strange tongues and Nations,
And change the language of good wits vnknowne,
These Thieuish Rascals print them for their owne.
Mistake me not (good Reader) any wayes,
Translators doe deserue respect and praise,
For were it not for them, we could not haue
A Bible, that declares our soules to saue,
And many thousands worthy workes would lye
Not vnderstood, or in obscurity,
If they by learned mens intelligence,
Were not translated with great diligence:
[Page 120]I honour such, and he that doth not so,
May his soule sinke to euerlasting woe.
I speake of such as steale regard and fame,
Who doe translate, and hide the Authors name,
Or such as are so barren of inuention,
That cannot write a line worth note, or mention,
Yet vpon those that can, will belch their spite,
And with malicious tongues their names backbite.
To this effect I oft haue wrote before,
And am inforced now this one time more,
To take my pen againe into my fist,
And answer a deprauing Emblemist;
I spare to name him, but I tell him plaine,
If e'r he dare abuse me so againe,
I'll whip him with a yerking Satyres lash,
Fang'd like th'inuectiue muse of famous Nash;
That he shall wish he had not beene, or beene
Hang'd, e'r he mou'd my iust incensed spleene,
He hath reported most maliciously,
In sundry places amongst company,
That I doe neither write, nor yet inuent
The things, that (in my name) doe passe in print:
But that some Scholler spends his time and braine,
And lets me haue the glory and the gaine.
Is any Poet in that low degree,
To make his muse worke iourney-worke to me?
Or are my lines with eloquence imbellish'd,
As any learning in them may be relish'd?
Those that thinke so they either iudge in haste,
Or else their iudgements pallat's out of taste.
My pen in Helicon I ne'r did dip,
And all my Schollership is Schullership,
I am an English-man, and haue the scope
To write in mine owne Countries speech (I hope)
For Homer was a Grecian, and I note
That all his workes in the Greeke tongue he wrote:
Virgill, and Ouid, neither did contemne
To vse that speech, their mothers taught to them.
Du Bartas, Petrarcke, Tassa, all their muses
Did vse the language that their country vses.
And though I know but English, I suppose
I haue as many tongues as some of those,
Their studies were much better, yet I say,
I vse my countries speech, and so did they.
Because my name is Taylor, some doe doubt,
My best inuention comes by stealing out
From other Writers workes, but I reply,
And giue their doubtfull diffidence the lye.
To cloze this point I must be very briefe,
And call them Knaues, that call me Poet Thiefe.
But yet a Poets theft, I must not smother,
For they doe often steale from one another:
They call it borrowing, but I thinke it true,
To tear me it stealing, were a style more due.
There is a speech, that Poets still are poore,
But ne'r till now I knew the cause wherefore:
Which is, when their inuentions are at best,
Then they are daily rob'd, 'tis manifest;
For noble Thieues and poore Thieues all conioyne,
From painfull Writers studies to purloyne,
And steale their flashes, and their sparks of wit,
Still vtt'ring them at all occasions fit,
As if they were their owne, and these men are
For their stolne stuffe esteemed wife and rare.
They call it borrowing, but I tell them plaine,
'Tis stealing, for they neuer pay againe.
The vse of money's eight i'th' hundred still,
And men in Bonds bound, as the owner will;
But wit and Poetry (more worth then treasure)
Is from the owners borrowed, at mens pleasure,
And to the Poets lot it still doth fall,
To lose both interest and principall.
This is the canse that Poets are poore men,
Th'are rob'd, and lend, and ne'r are paid agen.
'Tis said that Iacob (counsel'd by his mother)
Did steale his fathers blessing from his brother,
This was a theft which few wil imitate,
Their fathers blessings are of no such rate,
For though some sonnes might haue them for the crauing:
Yet they esteeme them scarcely worth the hauing,
Their fathers money they would gladly steale,
But for their blessings they regard no deale.
And by their waters you may guesse and gather,
That they were sicke and grieued of the Father:
But on such Thieues as those, I plainly say,
A hansome hanging were not cast away.
Some Thieues may through an admirable skill,
An honest Common-wealth both pole and pill:
These fellowes steale secure as they were Millers,
And are substantiall men, their Countries Pillers:
Purloyning polers, or the Barbers rather,
That shaue a Kingdome, cursed wealth to gather:
These Pillers, or these Caterpillers swarmes,
Grow rich, and purchase goods by others harmes,
And liue like Fiends, extremely fear'd and hated;
And are, and shall be euer execrated.
A King of Britaine once Catellus * nam'd,
Vpon Record his Charity is fam'd:
His iustice, and his memory was so ample,
He hang'd vp all oppressours, for example.
If that Law once againe were in request,
Then, of all trades a Hangman were the best.
These are the brood of Barrabas, and these
Can rob, and be let loose againe at ease,
[Page 121] Whilst Christ (in his poore members) euery day,
Both suffer (through their Theft) and pine away.
And sure all men, of whatsoe'r degree,
Of Science, Art, or Trade, or Mystery,
Or Occupation, whatsoe'r they are,
For truth cannot with Watermen compare,
[...] know there's some obiections may be made,
How they are rude, vnciuill in their trade:
But that is not the question I propound,
[...] say no Theft can in the trade be found;
Our greatest foes by no meanes can reueale,
Which way we can deceiue, or cheat, or steale:
We take men in, and Land them at their pleasure,
And neuer bate them halfe an inch of measure;
Still at one price our selues we waste and weare,
Though all things else be mounted double deare:
And in a word, I must conclude and say,
A Waterman can be a Thiefe no way:
Except one way, which I had halfe forgot,
He now and then perhaps may rob the pot,
Steale himselfe drunke, and be his owne Purspicker,
And chimically turnes his coyne to liquor.
This is almost a vniuersall Theft,
A portion Fathers to their Sonnes haue left:
[...]en are begot, and doe like their begetters,
And Watermen doe learne it of their betters.
Ther's nothing that doth make them poore & bare,
[...]ut b'cause they are such true men as they are:
For if they would but steale like other men,
The Gallowes would deuoure them now and then;
Whereby their number quickly would be lesse,
Which (to their wants) would be a good redresse.
Their pouerty doth from their truth proceed,
Their way to thriue were to be Thieues indeed:
If they would steale, and hang, as others doe,
Those that suruiue it were a helpe vnto;
Truth is their trade, & truth doth keepe them poore,
But if their truth were lesse, their wealth were more,
All sorts of men, worke all the meanes they can,
To make a Thiefe of euery Water-man:
And as it were in one consent they ioyne, 1
To trot by land i'th' dirt, and saue their coine.
Carroaches, Coaches, Iades and Flanders Mares,
Doe rob vs of our shares, our wares, our Fares:
Against the ground we stand and knocke our heeles,
Whilest all our profit runs away on wheeles;
And whosoeuer but obserues and notes,
The great increase of Coaches and of Boates,
Shall finde their number more then e'r they were
By halfe and more within these thirty yeeres.
Then Water-men at Sea had seruice still,
And those that staid at home had worke at will:
Then vpstart Helcart-Coaches were to seeke,
A man could scarce see twenty in a weeke,
But now I thinke a man may daily see,
More then the Whirries on the Thames can be.
When Queene Elizabeth came to the Crowne,
A Coach in England then was scarcely knowne,
Then 'twas as rare to see one, as to spy
A Tradesman that had neuer told a lye:
But now, like plagues of Egypt, they doe swarme,
As thicke as Frogs, or Lice, vnto our harme.
For though the King, the Counsell, and such States
As are of high superiour rankes and rates,
For port or pleasure, may their Coaches haue,
Yet 'tis not sit that euery Whore or Knaue,
And fulsome Madams, and new scuruy Squires,
Should iolt the streets in pomp, at their desires,
Like great triumphant Tamberlaines, each day,
Drawne with the pamper'd lades of Belgia,
That almost all the streets are choak'd out-right,
Where men can hardly passe, from morne till night. 1
Whilest Watermen want worke, and are at ease,
To carry one another, if they please,
Or else sit still, and poorely starue and dye;
For all their liuings on foure Wheeles doe flye.
Good Reader thinke it not too long, or much,
That I thus amply on this point doe tutch:
Now we are borne, we would our worke apply
To labour, and to liue vntill we dye;
And we could liue well, but for Coaches thieuing,
That euery day doe rob vs of our liuing.
If we, by any meanes, could learne the skill,
To rob the Coachmen, as they rob vs still;
Then in the Sessions booke it would appeare,
They would be hang'd fiue hundred in a yeare.
Besides, it is too manisfestly knowne,
They haue the Sadlers trade almost o'rthrowne;
And the best Leather in our Kingdome they
Consume and waste; for which poore men do pay:
Our Bootes & Shooes to such high price they reare,
That all our profit can buy none to weare.
I in Bohemia saw that all but Lords,
Or men of worth, had Coaches drawne with cords:
And I my necke vnto the rope would pawne,
That if our Hackney ratlers were so drawne,
With cords, or ropes, or halters, chuse ye whether,
It quickly would bring downe the price of Leather.
The Watermen should haue more worke I hope,
When euery hireliug Coach drawne with a rope,
Would make our Gallants stomacke at the matter,
And now and then to spend their coyne by water.
Without all flattery, here my minde I breake,
The Prouerb saies, Giue loosers leaue to speake:
They carry all our Fares, and make vs poore,
That to our Boates we scarce can get a d Whore.
Some honest men and women now and then
Will spend their moneyes amongst Watermen:
[Page 122]But we are growne so many, and againe,
Our fares so few, that little is our gaine.
Yet for all this (to giue the Diuell his due)
Our honest trade can no wayes be vntrue.
If some be rude amongst the multitude,
'Tis onely want of worke than makes them rude:
'Tis want of money, and of manners too,
That makes them doe as too too oft they doo:
And euery good thing that in them is scant,
It still must be imputed to their want.
But leauing true men, I must turne my stile
To paltry Thieues, whose glory is their guile:
For thrice three hundred of them from me tooke,
Some of them ready money, some a Booke,
And set their hands to Bils, to pay to me,
When I from Scotland should returned be.
Crownes, pounds, or Angels, what they pleas'd to write,
I haue their filts to shew in blacke and white.
And after that, I to Bohemia went,
And gaue out money, and much money spent:
And for these things, those Thieues in generall,
Will neither giue me gaine or Principall.
I lately wrote a *Pamphlet to the Crue,
That spake their due, for keeping of my due:
Wherein I gaue them thankes that had me paid,
And pardon'd those that in their graues were laid:
To those that were exceeding poore, or fled,
(Except good words) I very little sed;
I praid for them that onely would and could not,
And I inueigh'd at those that could and would not.
And let those shifters their owne Iudges be,
If they haue not bin arrant Thieues to me;
For first and last they tooke (with their good wils)
Neere fifteene hundred Bookes vpon their bils,
And all their hands (if I the truth may vtter)
Are worse then obligations seald with butter:
For I haue in my store (not worth a Louse)
As many Bils as well may thatch a House;
And there I haue the hands of Knights and Squires:
And Omnium gatherum cheating knaues and lyers,
Seuen hundred in a Galley mawfrey, Close,
Which I would sell for fifteene pence the Groce:
They'l neither pay with cōming, nor with sending,
And are (like old Boots) past all hope of mending.
First they did rob me of my expectation,
And made me walke a long perambulation;
And as my * Royall Master, when I came,
The good Prince, and my Lord of Buckingham
With many more of honour, worship, and
Men of inferiour callings in this Land,
Were bountifull to me at my returne;
Yet I like one that doth one Candle burne
In seeking of another, spent their gifts
To finde out sharkes, and complements, and shifts.
Theft is the best name I can giue their crime,
They rob me of my Bookes, my coine, and time,
Of others bounty, and mine owne good hopes;
And for this These I leaue them to the Ropes.
I speake to those that can and will not pay,
When in the streets I meete them euery day,
They doe not much mistake, if they doe thinke
I wish them ahang'd for keeping of my chinke.
Thus haue I touch'd a crue of Thieuing fellowes,
That rob beyond the compasse of the Gallowes:
Whilest many little Thieues are hang'd vp dead,
That onely steale for need, to finde them bread:
As Phara [...]h's fat Kine did the leane deuoure,
So great Thieues swallow small ones by their pow'r.
And sure I thinke that common Burglaries,
Pick-pockets, Highway- Thieues, and Pilferies,
And all that thus felloniously doe Thieue,
Are Thieues whose labours bmany doe relieue.
Who but poore Thieues doe Iaylors wants supply?
On whom doe Vnder-Keepers still rely?
From Thieuing, money still is gotten thus,
For many a Warrant and a Mittimus;
And if men were not apt to filch and Thieue,
'Twere worse for many a high and vnder Shrieue.
The Halter-maker, and the Smith are getters,
For fatall twist, and pondrous bolts and setters.
The Carman hath a share amongst the rest,
Although not voluntary, yet hee's prest.
The Ballad-maker doth some profit reape,
And makes a Taburne Dirge exceeding cheape,
The whil'st the Printers, and the dolefull Singers,
Doe in these gainfull businesse dip their fingers,
The very Hangman hath the sleight and skill,
To extract all his goods from others ill;
He is the Epilogue vnto the Law,
And from the iawes of death his life doth draw.
And last, the Hangmans Broaker reapes the fruit,
By selling to one Thiefe anothers suit.
Besides, Thieues are fit members: for 'tis knowne,
They make men caréfull how to keepe their owne,
For were it not for them, we still should lye
Rock'd in the Cradle of security:
Lull'd in base idlenesse, and sluggish sloth,
Apt to all ill, and to all goodnesse loth:
Which would infect vs, and corrupt the blood,
And therefore for our healths sake Theeues are good.
And some men are so prone to steale, I thinke,
It is as nat'rall as their meate and drinke,
They are borne to't, and cannot doe withall,
And must be filching still, what e'r befall.
[Page 123]A wispe of rushes, or a clod of land,
Or any wadde of hay that's next to hand
They'l steale, and for it haue a good excuse;
They doe't to keepe their hands in vre, or vse:
But not t'excuse a Thiefe in any case;
I say there are some crimes as void of grace,
On whom men scarce haue feeling or a thought,
Nor e'r like Thieues are to the Gallowes brought.
Those that obey false gods, commit offence
Against th' Eternall Gods Omnipotence.
Those that doe grauen Images adore,
Are worse then Thieues, yet are not hang'd therefore;
Tis treason high to take Gods name in vaine,
Yet most men do't, through frailty, or for gaine.
The Sabbath is prophan'd continually,
Whilest the offenders pay small *penalty.
And Parents are dishonour'd, without awe,
The whilest the children doe escape the law:
And murther, though't be ne'r so soule and deadly,
Is oft times made man-slaughter or chance-medley.
Adultery's neighbourhood, and fornication,
May be conniu'd at, with a toleration.
A Witnesse, that false testimony beares,
'Tis a great wonder if he lose his eares,
But sure the Prouerbe is as true as briefe,
A Lyer's euer worser then a Thiefe,
And 'tis call'd Thrist, when men their minds doe set,
To couer how their Neighbours goods to get.
To be vaine-glorious, and ambitious proud,
Are Gentleman-like parts, must be allow'd.
To beare an Enuy, base and secretly,
'Tis counted Wisedome, and great Policy.
To be a Drunkard, and the Cat to whip,
Is call'd the King of all good Fellowship.
But for a Thiefe, the whole world doth consent,
That hanging is the fittest punishment.
But if that Law were put in execution,
I thinke it would be Man-kindes dissolution:
And then we should haue Land and Tenements
For nothing, or for very easie Rents:
Whereby we see that man his wealth esteemes,
And better then his God, his soule it deemes:
For let God be abusde, and let his soule
Runne greedily into offences soule,
He scarcely shall be question'd sor't, but if
(Amongst his other sinnes) he play the Thiefe,
And steale mens goods, they all will sentence giue,
He must be hang'd, he is vnsit to liue.
In the Low Countryes, if a wretch doe steale
But bread, or meat, to feed himselfe a meale,
They will vnmercifully beat and clowt him,
Hale, pull, and teare, & spurne, & kicke & flowt him.
But if a Drunkard be vnpledg'd a Kan,
Drawes out his knife and basely stabs a man,
To runne away the Rascall shall haue scope,
None holds him, but all cry, * Lope Scellum Lope.
Thus there's a close conniuence for all vice,
Except for Theft, and that's a hanging price.
One man's addicted to blaspheme and sweare,
A second to carowse, and domineore:
A third to whoring, and a fourth to fight,
And kill and slay, a fist man to backbite,
A sixt and seuenth, with this or that crime caught,
And all in generall much worse then naught,
And amongst all these sianers generall,
The Thiefe must winne the halter from them all,
When if the matter should examin'd be,
They doe deserue it all, as much as he.
Nor yet is Thieuery any vpstart sinne,
But it of long antiquity hath bin:
And by this trade great men haue not disdain'd,
To winne renowne, and haue their states maintain'd.
Grest Alexanders conquests, what were they
But taking others goods and lands away?
(In manners) I must call it Martiall dealing,
But truth will terme it rob'ry, and flat stealing,
For vnto all the world it is well knowne,
That he by force, tooke what was not his owne.
Some Writers are with Tamberlaine so briefe,
To stile him with the name of Seythian Thiefe.
* Licurgus lou'd, and granted gifts beside
To Thieues that could steale, and escape vnspide:
But if they taken with the manne were,
They must restore, and buy the bargaine deere.
Thieues were at all times euer to be had,
Examples by the good Thiefe and the bad.
And England still hath bin a fruitfull Land
Of valiant Thieues, that durst bid true men stand.
One Bellin Dun a, a famous Thiefe surniu'd,
From whom the cowne of Dunstable's deriu'd:
And Robin Hood b with little Iohn agreed
To rob the rich men, and the poore to feede.
cThe Priests had here such small meanes for their liuing,
That many of them were enforc'd to Thieuing.
Once the fist Henry could rob ex'lent well,
When he was Prince of Wales, as Storeis tell.
Then Fryer Tucke a tall stout Thiefe indeed,
Could better rob and steale, then preach or read,
Sir Gosselin Deinuill, dwith 200. more,
In Fryers weedes, rob'd and were hang'd therefore,
Thus I in Stories, and by proofe doe finde,
That stealing's very old, time out of minde,
E't I was borne, it through the world was spred,
And will be when I from the world am dead.
But leauing thus, my Muse in hand hath tooke,
To shew which way a Thiefe is like a Booke.

A Comparison betweene a Thiefe and a Booke.

COmparisons are odious, as some say,
But my comparisons are so no way:
I in the Pamphlet which I wrote before,
Compar'd a Booke most fitly to a Whore:
And now, as fitly my poore muse alludes,
A Thiefe t'a Booke in apt similitudes.
A good Booke steales the mind from vaine pretences,
From wicked cogitations, and offences:
It makes vs know the worlds deceiuing pleasures,
And set our hearts on neuer ending treasures.
So when Thieues steale our Cattle, Coyne or Ware,
It makes vs see how mutable they are:
Puts vs in mind that wee should put our trust,
Where Fellon cannot steale, or Canker rust.
Bad Bookes through eyes and eares doe breake and enter,
And takes possession of the hearts fraile Center.
Infecting all the little Kingdome Man,
With all the poys'nous mischiefe that they can,
Till they hape rob'd and ransack'd him of all
Those things which men may iustly goodnesse call.
Robs him of vertue, and of heau'nly grace,
And leaues him begger'd, in a wretched case.
So of our earthly goods, Thieues steale the best,
And richest iewels, and leaue vs the rest.
Men know not Thieues from true men by their looks,
Nor by their outsides, no man can know Bookes.
Both are to be suspected, all can tell,
And wisemen e'r they trust, will try them well.
A Booke may haue a title good and faire,
Though in it one may finde small goodnesse there:
And so a Thiefe, whose actions are most vile,
Steales good opinion, and a true mans stile.
Some Bookes (prophane) the Sacred text abuse,
With common Thieues it is a common vse.
Some Bookes are full of lyes, and Thieues are so,
One hardly can beleeue their yea, or no.
Some Bookes are scurrilous and too obsceane,
And he's no right Thiefe that loues not a Queane.
Some Book's not worth the reading for their fruits:
Some Thieues not worth the hanging, for their suits,
Some Bookes are briefe, and in few words declare
Compendious matter, and acutenesse rare:
And so some Thieues will breake into a house,
Or cut a purse whilest one can cracke a Louse.
Some Bookes are arrogant and impudent,
So are most Thieues in Christendome and Kent.
Some Bookes are plaine and simple, and some Thieues
Are simply hang'd, whilest others get reprieues.
Some Books like foolish Thieues, their faults are spide
Some Thieues like witty Bookes, their faults can hide.
Some Bookes are quaint and quicke in their conceits,
Some Thieues are actiue, nimble in their sleights,
Some Bookes with idle stuffe the Author fills,
Some Thieues will still be idle by their wills.
Some Bookes haue neither reason, law, or sense,
No more haue any Thieues for their offence.
A Booke's but one, when first it comes to th'Presse,
It may increase to numbers numberlesse:
And so one Thiefe perhaps may make threescore:
And that threescore may make ten thousand more,
Thus from one Thiefe, Thieues may at last amount,
Like Bookes from one Booke past all mens account.
And as with industry, and art, and skill,
One Thiefe doth daly rob another still,
So one Booke from another (in this age)
Steales many a line, a sentence or a page.
Thus amongst Bookes, good fellowship I finde,
All things are common, Thieues beare no such mind,
And for this Thieuing, Bookes with hue and cry
Are sought, (as Thieues are) for their Fellony.
As Thieues are chasde and sent from place to place,
So Bookes are alwaies in continuall chase.
As Bookes are strongly boss'd, and clasp'd & bound,
So Thieues are manacled, when they are found:
As Thieues are oft examin'd for their crimes,
So Bookes are vsde, and haue bin at all times.
As Thieues haue oft at their arraignment stood,
So Bookes are tryde if they be bad or good.
As Iuries and Graund Iuries, with much strife,
Giue vp (for Thieues) a Verdict, death or life.
So as mens fancies euidence doe giue,
The shame or fame of Bookes, to dye or liue:
And as the veriest Thiefe may haue some friend,
So the worst Bookes, some Knaue will still defend.
As Thieues their condemnation must abide,
Bookes are deem'd true sometimes, sometimes be'iyd.
As Thieues are iudged, so haue Bookes agen,
As many censures (almost) as are men.
And as their faults are different in degree,
Some Thieues are hang'd, some Books are burnt we see,
Some Thieues are for their small offences whip't,
All Bookes are prest, except a Manuscript.
As Thieues are buryed, when the Law is paid,
So some Bookes in obliuions graue are laid.
The Ialors keepe the Thieues, and much regards,
The strength of fetters, locks, bolts, grates & wards.
[Page 115]And will know when and how abroad they goe,
And vnto Bookes the Stationers [...] are so.
Still Books and Thieues in one conceit doe ioyne:
For if you marke them, they are all for coyne.
Some Thieues exceeding braue, a man may finde
In Sattin, and their cloakes with veluet linde:
And some Bookes haue gay coats vnto their backs,
When as their insides, goods and goodnesse lacks.
Same Bookes are all betattered, torne and rent,
Some Thieues endure a ragged punishment.
Some Thieues may come (their sorrows to increase)
Before a shallow Officer of peace,
One that can cough, call knaue, and with non-sense
Commit, before he know for what offence:
A Booke somtimes doth proue a Thiefes true friend,
And doth preserue him from a hanging end:
For let a man at any Sessions looke,
And still some Thieues are saued by their Booke.
And so some Bookes to coxcombs hands may come,
Who can cry pish, and mew, and tush, and hum,
Condemne ere they haue read, or throughly scand,
Abusing what they cannot vnderstand.
Some Thieues are like a Horne-booke, and begin
Their A.B.C. of filching, with a pin;
Their Primmer is a poynt, and then their Psalter
May picke a pocket, and come neere a Halter.
Then with long practice in these rudiments,
To breake a house may be his Accidence,
And vsing of his skill (thus day by day)
By Grammar he may rob vpon the way,
Vntill at last, to weare (it be his hap)
A Tiburne Tippet, or old Stories Cap.
That is the high'st degree which they can take,
An end to all their studies there they make:
For amongst Thieues not one amongst a score,
If they be rais'd so high, they'l steale no more.
Thus the comparisons hold still you see,
To Whores and Thieues, Bookes may compared bee.
All are like Actors, in this wauering age,
They enter all vpon the worlds great Stage:
Some gaine applause, and some doe act amisse,
And exit from the scaffold with a hisse.
Now if my Whore or Thiefe play well their parts,
Giue them their due, applaud their good deserts.
If ill, to Newgate hisse them, or Bridewell,
To any place, Hull, Halifax or Hell.
And thus the Thiefe and Booke ioyne both in one;
Both hauing made an END, they both haue DON.

THE PRAISE AND VERTVE OF a IAYLE and IAYLERS: WITH THE MOST EXCELLENT MYSTERIE, and necessary vse of all sorts of Hanging. ALSO A TOVCH AT TYBVRNE FOR A PERIOD, AND THE AVTHORS FREE LEAVE TO LET THEM be hangd, who are offended at the Booke without cause.

DEDICATED To the a Sensible, Reasonable, Affable, Amiable, Acceptable, minded, Honourable, in VVit, Iudgement, and Vnderstanding Able, Robert Rugge Gentleman, Reare Adelantado of the Holy Iland, the Fairne, and the Staples, on the Coast of Northumbria.

No hanging Tap'strie, Quilt, or Couerlet,
This dedication of my wit could get:
No Mattresse, Blanket, Sheet, or Featherbed,
Could haue these labours of my working head:
But (cold by nature) from my Nurses dugge,
My inclination still hath lou'd a Rugge:
Which makes my thankefull Muse thus bold to be,
To consecrate this worthlesse worth to thee:
Thou that within those happy Iles doest bide,
Which Neptunes waues doe from our Land diuide,
Where in the Holy Iland stands a Fort
That can defend, and iniuries retort:
That doth command a goodly Hauen nigh,
Wherein a hundred ships may safely lye:
Thou in the b Fairne and Staples bearst such sway,
That all the dwellers there doe thee obey:
Where Fowle are all thy faire inhabitants,
Where thou (Commander of the Cormorants)
Grand Gouernour of Guls, of Geese and Ganders,
O'r whom thou art none of the leaft Commanders:
Whereas sometimes thou canst not stirre thy legs,
But thou must tread on tributary egs:
For they like honest, true, plaine-dealing folkes,
Pay thee the custome of their whites and yolkes,
Which to thy friends oft-times transported be,
As late thou sentst abarrell-full to me:
And in requit all to so good a friend,
This Prison, and this Hanging here I send.
Because within the c Fairne and Staples teo,
The dwellers doe as they doe please to doe.
Their pride and lust, their stealing and their treas [...],
Is all impouted to their want of reason:
I therefore haue made bold to send thee this,
To shew them what a Iayle and Hanging is.
Thou hast from Hermes suck'd the Quintessence
Of quicke Inuention, and of Eloquence:
And thou so well doest loue good wittie Bookes,
That makes thee like Apollo in thy lookes:
For nature hath thy visage so much grac'd,
That there's the ensigne of true friendship plac'd.
A chaulkie face, that's like a pewter spoone,
Or buttermilke, or greene cheese, or the meone,
Are either such as kill themselues with care,
Or hide-bound miserable wretches are.
Giue me the man, whose colour and prospect,
Like Titan when it doth on gold reflect;
And if his purse be equall to his will,
Hee'l then be frolicke, free, and iouiall still:
And such a one (my worthy friend) art thou,
To whom I dedicate this Pamphlet now;
And I implore the Heau'ns to proue so kinde,
To keepe thy state according to thy minàe.
Yours with my best wishes, IOHN TAYLOR.

THE VERTVE OF AIAYLE, AND NECESSITIE OF HANGING.

MY free-borne Muse of bondage rudely treats,
And strange vagaries in my Brain-pau beats:
Whilst I vnmaske, vnuisor, or vnueile
The vertues of a Iaylot and a Iayle:
And then of Hanging, and the Hang-mans art
My line doe end, and at the Gallowes part:
First, I doe finde in Histories enrold,
I [...]les for antiquity, are very old:
[Page 127]For loseph was in prison (false accus'd,'
That he his Masters Wife would haue abus'd.)
And all the world doth vnderstand, a Prison
Is not an vpstart Fable newly risen.
And lere [...] was vnder bolts and locks,
By Pasher once imprison'd in the a stocks:
And after that he twice was put in b thrall,
For true foretelling c Israel, Iudab's fall.
The Sacred Histories doe well declare,
That Prisons for their time most ancient are.
Yet though my lines doe speake of layles, I see
That mine inuention and my Muse is free:
And I doe finde the name of Prisone, frames
Significant alluding Anagrams.
As Thus

1. PRISONE. Anagramma. NIP SORE.

There men are Nip'd with mischiefes manifold,
With losse of freedome, hunger, thirst, & cold,
With mourning shirts, and sheets, & lice some store,
And thus a Prison truely doth Nip sore.

2. PRISONE. Anagramma. IN ROPES.

AGaine the very word portends small hopes,
For he that's in a Prisone, is In Ropes.

3. PRISONE. Anagramma. IN PROSE.

To all good verses, Prisons are great foes,
And many Poets they keepe fast In Prose.

4. PRISONE. Anagramma. NO PRISE.

IN deed it is no profit, or No Prise,
But woefull purchase of calamities.
The name of Iayles (by letters transposition)
Doch very well discouer their condition.

5 IAYLES. Anagramma. I SLAYE.

ANd well it doth befit it euery way,
The nature of all Iayles is still to slay:
There are men slaine most strange tormēting waies,
In name, fame, state, and life, with long delayes.

6. BONDAGE. Anagramma. BANDOGE.

ANd Bondage like a Bandagge still doth gnaw,
Fangd with the tushes of the byting law.

7. IAYLER. Anagramma. I RAYLE.

THis doth befit the Iayler wondrous tr [...]me,
He at the prisoners railes, and they at him.

8. ARESTING. Anagramma. A STINGER.

A Resting very well with this agrees,
It is A Stinger worse then Wasps or B [...].

OR, 9. ARESTING. Anagramma. IN GRATES.

THis very word includes poore prisoners fates,
Aresting briefly claps em vp In Grates.

10. SERIEANT. Anagramma. IN ARESTE.

TO turne this word vnto the very best,
A Serieant In Areste doth breed vnrest.

OR, 11. SERIEANT. Anagramma. IN TEARES.

IN cares and To [...]ts he leaues men to lament.
When credit, coyne, and goods, and all are spent.

12. WARDES. Anagramma. DRAWES.

A Prisoners purse is like a nurse, for why,
His Ward or lodging drawes or sucks it dry:
A Iury here of Anagrams, yon see,
Of Serieants and of Iailes empanneld be;
And now my pen intends to walke a station,
And talke of Prisons in some other fashion.
That Iailes should be, there is Law, sense and reason,
To punish bawdry, cheating, theft and treason,
Though some against them haue inuectiue bin,
And call'd a Iaile a magazin of sin,
An Vniuersitie of villany,
An Academy of fo [...]e blasphemy,
A sinke of drunkennesse, a den of Thieues,
A treasury for Serieants and for Shrleues,
A mint for Baylifes, Marshals men and Iailers,
Who liue by losses of captiu'd bewailers:
A nurse of Roguery, and an earthly hell,
Where Deu'ls or Iaylers in mens shapes doe dwell:
But I am quite contrary to all this,
I thinke a Iaile a Schools of vertue is,
A house of study end of con [...]c [...]plation,
A place of discipline and reformation,
There men may try their patience and shall know,
If they haue any friends aline or no:
There they shall proue if they haue fortitude,
By which all crosses stoutly are subdu'd,
A Prison leades the creditor vnto
His coozning debter, that would him vndoe',
'Tis physicke that preserues the Common-wealth,
Foule treasons snassle, and the canbe of stealth,
The whip of hellish pride, the scourge of lust,
The good mans helpe in plaguing the vniust.
Were thieues and villaines not in prison put,
A world of throats (past number) would be cut:
For when diseases are growne desperate, then
They must haue desperate remedies, and when
Men mend not for repoofe, or [...]onition,
A Iaile then is the Surgeon or Physitian.
The roaring Knaue, that like a horse or mule,
His parents, master, or no friends could rule,
But that he daily would be drunke and sweare,
And like a demy: deuill do [...]ineere,
Though to good course he neuer meant to beed him,
A * prison at the last will mend or end him.
The deeds of darknesse that doe hate the light,
Frays, brawls & bloudshed which start out by might,
The watch like cunning Fowlers lye in wait,
And catch these Woodcocks in their Sprindges [...],
These Birds are in the Iaile mew'd vp from not,
Where they may learn more manners and be q [...]
A Iail's a glasse wherein old men may see,
The blemish of their youths deformity;
And yong men quickly may perceiue from thence,
The way to wisdome and experience.
And though the lights of prisons are but dim,
A prisoners candle yet may shew to him
At midnight, without light of Sonne or Moone,
More then he euer could perceiue at noone;
It shewes the fleeting state of earthly pelse,
It makes him wisely learne to know himselfe,
The world vnto his view it represents,
To be a map or masse of discontents,
It shewes his fained friends like butter-flyes,
That dogg'd his summer of prosperities:
And in a word it truly doth set forth
The world, and all that's in it nothing worth,
These things vnto a wisemans iudgement brings,
A hate to earth, and loue to heauenly things.
T' a wise man nothing in a Iaile dothbide,
But it to some good vse may be applide:
He heares a Ruffin sweare, and so doth heare
That he doth stand in feare, and hate to sweare:
He spies another drunke, and so doth spy
That such vnmanly beastlinesse hee'l fly.
He notes the curtall cannes halfe fild with froth,
Tobacco piping hot, and from them both,
His iudgement doth discerne, with wisdomes eye,
The world is vapour, froth, and vanity.
His homely * bed and vermines sundry formes,
Doe make him mind his grane, & crawling wo [...],
The Spiders cobweb, lawne, or tapestry,
Shew odds 'twixt idlenesse and industry.
The churlish keepers, rattling chaines and fetters,
The hole or dangeon for condemned debters,
Blaspheming wretches of all grace bereauen,
Doe make him thinke on hell, and wish for heauen.
And thus though wise mens corps in prison bee,
Their minds are still at liberty and free.
Besides, experience daily teacheth this,
The soule a Prisoner in the body is:
Our Reason should the keeper be to guide,
The Heart doth lodge within the Masters side,
The Braines the Knights ward may be termed fit,
There lies the vnderstanding and the wit:
[Page 129] [...]e D [...] where the Prisoners starue and dye,
[...] the B [...] where sad despaire doth lye:
[...]e S [...] the Manacles, and Bolts, and Giues,
Which f [...] vs in bondage all our liues:
[...] melancholy sorrow, griefe and care,
[...]i [...]all waiters in those Prisons are,
[...] partiall selfe-loue all our crimes excusing,
[...] Consciences true euidence accusing,
[...] fights and teares the Messengers we send
[...] God, that all our sorrowes may haue end;
[...]d then through faith and hope we doe beleeue,
Againe a pardon, better than repreeue;
[...] lastly death doth free the soule from thrall,
[...] makes a laile delinery vnto all.
[...] is our flesh the wals, our bones the grates,
[...] eyes the windowes, and our mouthes the gates,
[...] Nose the Chimney, Kitchen is the brest,
[...] a tongue the taster of the worst and best,
[...] hands the Caruers, teeth the Cookes to mince,
[...] diet of a Pea sane or a Prince:
[...] hunger is best sawce, as I doe thinke,
[...] beli [...]es cellers where we lay our drinke:
[...] in these corps of ours deciphered thus,
[...] are prisoners vnto all of vs.
[...]race guides vs, sowe by grace guide them,
[...] way vnto the new Ierusalem.
[...]ne rugged winter, with frosts, stormes and gusts,
[...] prisoners yeerely in the b earth it thrusts,
[...] roots, flowers, fruits, & worms til sun & raine,
[...]h Summers heat doth baile them forth againe.
[...]of all men aliue, I find ca Tailor
[...] appeared artificiall Iailor:
[...] doe commit themselues vnto his charge,
[...]may, but will by no meanes goe at large.
[...] stene many in the Taylors Iaies,
[...] labour'd till they sweat with tooth and nailes,
[...] whilst a man might ride fiue miles at least)
[...]their clothes together on the brest,
[...]being then in prison button'd vp,
[...]ose that scarcely they could bite or sup,
I have heard their pride how loud it lide,
[...]esting that their clothes were made too wide a
[...] men loue bondage more then liberty,
[...] 'tis a gailant kinde of foolery,
[...] thus amongst themselues they haue a Law,
[...]ke and dawbe the backe, and pinch the Maw.
[...] thankes their soules should be in mighty trouble,
[...] they are imprison'd double,
[...]orps and Clothes and which is true and plaine,
[...] seeme to take great pleasure in their paine.
[...] hoomaker's a kind of Iailor too,
[...] very strange exploits he dares to doe:
[...] many times he hath the power and might,
[...] into his Sto [...]ks a Lord or Knight, d
The Madam and the Maid he cares not whether,
He laies them all fast by the heeles in lether.
Plaine f Honesty and Truth, both Prisoners are,
Although they seldome come vnto the barre,
Yet are they kept so closely day and night,
That in an age they scarsely come in sight.
And but for many of our Countries pillers,
True Tailers, Weauers, and cleane finger'd Millers,
Good Sericants and kind Brokers did releeue them,
gI know not who would any comfort giue them.
No doubt but many a Lasse that faine would wed,
Is her owne h Iailor to her maindenhead,
With much vnwillingnesse she keepes it close,
And with her heart she'l gladly let it lose.
But looke to't wenches, if you giue it scope,
'Tis gone past all recouery, past all hope;
Much like old Time which ceaselesse doth run on,
But neuer doth returne, once being gone.
The i Gowt's a sawcy Prisoner, and will haue
His keepers to maintaine him fine and braue;
His Iailors shall no needy beggers be,
But men of honour and of high degree,
And ouer them he beares such great command,
That many times they can nor gor, nor stand;
And if he would breake Iaile and flie, 'tis thought,
He by his keepers neuer should be sought.
And k money is close Prisoner I thinke sure,
Where no man can its liberty procure:
The Diuels Stewards, and his Bailifes vow,
That monies freedome they will not allow,
Vnlesse vnto a Miser or a Whore,
But by all meane fa [...] hold it from the poore.
I wish l Coine were as painfull as the Gout.
To those that hoard it; and I make no doubt
But miserable Iailers would agree
To ope their Prisons, and let money flee,
And were it not a lamentable thing,
That some great Emperour or some mighty King
Should be imprison'd by a vastall slaue,
And lodg'd aliue (as twere within his Graue.)
Such is the case of Siluer and of Gold,
The chiefest of all mettals fast in hold,
And darknesse lies held in the Misers stocks,
mIn steele and ironbars, and bolts and locks.
Though gold and siluer royall mettals be,
Yet are they flanes to yron, at we see.
But leauing Gold and Gowt, Ile turne my pen,
To what I haue digrest from Iayles and men:
Let man examine well himselfe, and he
Shall find himselfe his n greatest enemie;
[Page 130]And that his losse of liberty and pelfe,
He can accuse non for it, but himselfe:
How passions, actions, and affections cluster,
And how to ruinate his state they muster,
His frailty armes his members and his senses,
To vndertake most dangerous pretences.
The backe oft tempts him vnto borrowed brauery,
And all his body suffers for't in slauery;
His Belly tempts him to superfluous fare,
For which his cops lyes in a Iaylors snare;
His Eyes from beauty to his heart drawes lust,
For which he's often into prison thrust;
His Eares giue credit to a knaue or theese,
And's body suffers for his eares beleefe.
His Tongue much like a Hackney goes all panes,
In City, Country, Court and Campe, all places,
It gallops, and false gallops, trots and ambles,
One pace or other still it runnes and rambles:
Of Kings and Princes states it often prattles,
Of Church and Common-wealth it idly cattles,
Of passing of it's word and [...]uetiships,
For which at last the Ioyle the carkassenips.
Mans Hands haue very oft against him warr'd,
And made him of his liberty debarr'd:
A stab, a blow, a dashing of a pen,
Hath clap'd him closely in the Iaylors de [...].
The Feet which on the ground men daily tread,
The way to their captiuity doe lead.
Now for the inward faculties, I find
Some lye in Prison for their haughty mind,
Some for their folly, sone because too wise,
Are mew'd vp in the Iaylors on bodies;
Some for much gaming, or for recreation,
Doe make a Iayle their homely habitation,
And thus it plainly may be proued well,
Mans greatest foes with in himselfe doe dwell.
And now two contraries I will compare,
To shew how like, and how vnlike they are:
A Iayle, our birth, and death, and getting free,
These foure doe all agree and disagree;
For all degrees, our birth and life we know
Is naturall, * one way, for high and low:
But death hath many thousand wayes and scares,
To take our liues away all vo [...]es.
And therefore of our liues it is no doubt,
That ther's but one way in, and many out;
But to a Ioyle there's many waies to win,
Ten thousand tricks and sleight to clap men in:
And ther's but one way out as I doe know,
Which is by satisfying what we owe.
Owest thou the Law thy life, dispatch and pay,
And from the Prison thou art freed away:
Dost thou owe mony, quickly pay thy seere,
And farewell, goe thy wayes man, there's the doe [...]
As men in all that's ill, are Satans Apes,
So sundry sinnes bring death in sundry shapes;
Life from the God of life, which is but one,
To all degrees one way giues life alone.
And so our seuerall frailties, seuerall waies
Our wretched Carkasses in prison layes,
But there's but one way out that e'r I saw,
Which is by satisfying of the law.
The faults we doe in spring-time of our youth,
In Summer of our man-hood gather growth:
Then Haruests middle age doth make them ripe,
Which winters old age doth in prison gripe;
And thus the very seasons of the yeare,
Fit emblemes of our thraldome doe appeare.
In London and within a mile, I weene,
There are of Iayles or Prisons full eighteene,
And sixty Whipping-posts, and Stocks and Cage
Where sin with shame and sorrow hath due wag [...]
For though the a Tower be a Castle Royall,
Yet ther's a Prison in't for men disloyall:
Though for defence a Campe may there be fitted,
Yet for offence, men thither are committed.
It is a house of fame, and there is in't
A Palace for a Prince, a Royall Mint,
bGreat Ordnance, Powder, Shot, Match, Bils Bo [...]
Shafts, swords, pikes, lāces, shouels, mattocks, cry
Bright armor, muskets, ready still, I say,
To arme one hundred thousand in a day.
And last, it is a prison vnto those
That doe their Soueraigne or his lawes oppose,
cThe Gatehouse for a prison was ordain'd,
When in this land the third king Edward reign'd
Good lodging ro [...]mes, and diet it affoords,
But I had rather lye at home on boords.
Since Ricbandii reigne the first, d the Fleet hath [...]
A Prison, as vpon records is seene:
For lodgings and for bowling, there's large space
But yet I haue no stomacke to the place.
eOld Neugais I perceiue a theeuish den,
But yet ther's lodging for good honest men.
When second Henry here the Scepter swaid,
Then the foundation of that gate was laid,
But sixty six yeeres ere our [...]auiours birth,
By L [...]nd was f Ludgate founded from the earth;
No Iayle for theeues, though some perhaps is b [...]
That breake in policie, may there be had.
The g Counter in the Powltery is so old,
That it in History is not enrold.
And h Woodstreet Counters age we may denice
Since Anno fifteene hundred fifty fiue.
[Page 131] [...] me the one's too old, and one's too new,
[...] as they bake, a Gods name let them brew.
[...] vnto my memory comes next;
There idlenesse and lechery is vext:
[...] is a royall house, of state and port,
Which the eighth King Henry built, and there kept Court.
[...] Edward somewhat ere his timelesse fall,
[...] it away to be an Hospitall:
Which vse the City puts it well vnto,
[...] many pious deeds they there doe doo:
[...] yet for Vagabonds and Runnagates,
[...] Wheres and idle knaues, and such like mates,
[...] little better then a Iayle to those,
There they chop chalke, for meat and drinke and blowes.
[...] this house those that 'gainst their wils doe dwell,
[...] Well a Bride (perhaps) but not Bridewell. a
[...] Iayles or Prisons are in Southwarke plac'd,
[...] Countor (once S. Margrets Church defac'd)
[...] M [...], the Kings Bench, and White Lyon, b
There some like Tantalus, or like lxion,
[...] inching paine of hunger daily feele,
[...] vp and downe with sickle fortunes wheele:
[...] some doe willingly make there abode,
Because they cannot liue so well abroad.
[...] ther's the Clinke, where handsome lodgings be,
[...] good may it doe them all, for me.
[...] but the Thames vnto S. Katherins then,
[...]is another c hole or den for men.
[...]tere in d East-Smithfield little better,
[...] to hold a theefe or paltry debter.
Then neere three Cranes a Iayle for Hereticks,
[...]s, Familists, and Schismaticks.
[...]worths Iayle within White Chappell stands,
And [...]y, God blesse me from their hands.
[...] eighteene Iayles so neere the Citty bounded,
[...] founded and maintain'd by men confounded:
[...] one means meat may be anothers bane,
[...] Keepers full, springs from the Prisners wane:
[...] hath beene still the vse, and euer will,
[...] one mans welfare comes from others ill.
[...] (as I said) mans selfe is cause of all
[...] miseries that to him can be fall.
[...] but our corps, how euery member lyes,
Their seuerall offices, and faculties:
[...] our own iudgement will informe vs than,
[...] himselfe twixt a prison and a man:
[...] as man hath his limbs and linaments,
[...]wes, muscles, nerues, and ligaments:
[...] Panicles, his Arteries, his Veines,
[...] his, membrancs, and his beating braines: e f
So hath a Iayle, h Writs, Warrants, & Attachments,
Arestings, Actions, Hues, Cries, & Appeáchments:
With Garnish, Sharing fees, and Habeas Corpus,
(Which feede some Iaylors fatter than a Porpus)
And last, for euerlasting Executions,
Vntill the prisoners bodies dissolutions;
And if a man be hurt in legge or arme,
Or head, or heele, 'tis said the man hath harme:
If inward griefe doe pinch in any part,
The anguish is a terror to the heart;
And should a Iayle want these things nam'd before,
It quickly would be miserable poore:
Like men dismembred or of sense berest,
With scarcely any life or being left.
For in mans corps (like prisners) alwayes lies
His vertues, and his foule iniquities.
And which of these his fancie liketh best;
Shall still be kept in bondage, or releast.
As Wisdome, Bounty, and Humilitie.
(Despised in these dayes of vanitie)
Some keepe so close, not suffering them to walke,
So much as in bare thoughts, or deeds, or talke,
Whilst Folly, and close-fifted Niggardize,
With Barbarisme, haue ease and liberties,
Faith, Hope and Charitie, are pent vp close,
And doubt, despaire and cruelty let loose.
Lust reuels it, rich clad in Robes of Pride:
Friendship and Loue, are liberty denide,
Whereby the liberall Arts in number seuen,
Are of their liberall liberties bereauen,
The whilst the seuen delightfull deadly sinnes,
The game and glory of the whole world wins.
The Cardnall vertues, as vnworthy prices,
Are made but vassals to all Carnall vices.
The Muses are mew'd vp, with woes and wants,
Whilst fortune followes knaues and Ignorants:
And thus within mans little Common-weale,
He like a partiall Iaylor oft doth deale:
Permits his goodnesse neuer to appeare,
And lets his badnesse ramble any where,
So Rorers, Rascals, Banquerouts politicke.
With money, or with friends will finde a tricke
Their Iaylor to corrupt, and at their will
They walke abroad, and take their pleasure still:
Whilst naked vertue, beggerly, despis'd,
Beleguerd round, with miseries surpris'd,
Of hope of any liberty defeated,
For passing of his word is meerely cheated:
And dungeond vp, may tell the wals his mones,
And make relation to the senselesse stones,
Where sighs and grones, & teares may be his feast,
Whil'st man to man, is worse than beast to beast.
Till death he there must take his fad abode,
Whil'st craft and coozenage walke at will abroad.
[Page 132]Thus these comparisons doe well agree,
Man to a Iayle may fitly likened bee:
The thought whereof may make him wish with speed
To haue his prisoned soule releast and freed.
Thus Iayles and meditations of a Iayle,
May serue a Christian for his great auaile.
But now my Muse, thus long in bondage pent,
Begins to thinke of her infranchizement:
And hauing of a Prison spoke her part,
She mounts vnto the Hangman and his Art.

THE NECESSITIE OF HANGING.

OF Hangings there's diuersity of fashions,
Almost as many as are sundry Nations:
For in the world all things so hanged are,
That any thing vnhang'd is strange and rare.
Earth hangs in the concauity of Water,
And Water hangs within the Ayeres matter,
The Ayre hangs in the Fierie continent:
Thus Element doth hang in Element,
(Without foundation) all the Massie Globe
Hangs, which the skies encompasse like a Robe,
For as an a egge, the yolke within the white,
The white within the skin's enuellop'd quite,
The skin within the shell doth outmost lye:
Eu'n so these Elements hang midst the side.
First, all the world where mortals liue, we see
Within the Orbe of Luna hanged be;
Aboue her, Mercurie his course doth steere,
And next aboue him is bright V [...]s Sphere.
And in the fourth, and middle firmament,
Sol keepes his hot and fiery Regiment.
Next aboue that rans Mars, that star of warre:
Beyond him Iupiter, that Iouiall starre;
Then last is fullen Saturnes ample bounds,
Who once in thirty yeeres the world surrounds;
This earthly Globe (for which men fight & brawle)
Compar'd to Heauen, is like an b Attom small,
Or as a Needles point compar'd to it,
So it to Heauen may be compared fit;
And it doth Hang, and hath its residence
I'th centre of the skies circumference.
Thus to proue Hanging naturall, I proue,
cWe in a Hanging world doe liue and moue.
Man is a little world, wherein we see,
The great worlds abstract or epitomie,
And if we note each linament and lim,
There are not many parts vnhang'd of him;
His haire which to his head and beard belongs,
Hangs, if not turn'd vp with the Barbers tongs,
His armes, his hands, his legges and feet we know
Doe all hang pendant downe wards as they grow
Ther's nothing of him that doth hanging skip,
Except his eares, his nether teeth and lip,
And when he's crost or sullen any way,
He mumps, and lowres, and hangs the lip, they say
That I a wise mans sayings must approue,
Man is a tree, whose root doth grow aboue,
Within his braines, whose sprigs & branches roo [...]
From head to foot grow downward to the ground
Thus world to world, and man to man dothcall,
And tels him, Hanging is most naturall:
The word Dependant doth informe our reason,
That Hanging will be neuer out of season.
All that depends doth hang, which doth expresse,
That d Great men are like Iybbets for the lesse,
It is an old phrase, many yeeres past gone,
That such a Lord hath many hangers on;
Thereby describing, that all mens Attendants
As it were hangers on, were call'd e Dependance
And sure of all men, they are best indeed,
Who haue most hangers on to cloath and feed;
For he that hath the meanes, and not the grace,
To helpe the needie, is a Miser base.
Hee's no good Steward, but a hatefull Thiefe,
That keepes from good Dependants their reliefe:
And of all Theeues, he hanging doth deserue,
Who e hath the power to feed, and lets men ste [...]
To end this point, this consequence I'll grant,
He that hath wealth, no hangers on can want;
For since the time that mankinde first began,
It is a destinie ordain'd to man,
The meane vpon the mighty should depend,
And all vpon the Mightiest should attend.
Thus through all ages, Countries and Dominions
We each on other hang like ropes of Onions.
Some wealthy slaues, whose consciences condem,
Will hang themselues, left others hang on them;
And some spend all on Hangers on so fast,
That they are forc'd to steale, and hang at last.
If they from these Extremes themselues could we [...]
There is betwixt them both a Golden meane,
Which would direct their superfluities,
They would not hang themselues for niggardine,
Nor wastefully or prodigally spend,
Till want bring them to hanging in the end,
And they and many others, by their purse,
Might scape that hanging which is cald a curse. f
[Page 133]There's many a * Gallant made of foole and feather,
Of Gold and Veluet, Silke, and Spanish leather,
Whose lagged Hangers on haue mou'd my minde,
[...]osce prids goe goe before, and shame behinde,
With scarce a button, or an elboe whole,
[...]ch, or any shooe that's worth a sole:
These that like golden Iybbets, and their traines
[...] like poore tatter'd Theeues hang'd vp in chains.
[...] that doth suffer Whores, or Theeues, or Knaues,
[...] flattering Villaines, or such kinde of slaues,
To hang vpon him, and knowes what they are,
That man into a Gallowse I compare.
That Vintner I account no friend of mine,
Who for good money drawes me scuruie wine,
[...] by the rule of Conscience (not of Law)
That he is fitter made to hang, then draw.
The Lawyer that at length doth spin mens causes,
With false, delays, and dilatory clauses,
Who makes a trade to broach and draw contention,
For him a hanging were a good preuention.
[...] hols, Muse, come backe, you beare my Rime,
To hanging in good carnest ere the time.
There are a many sorts of hangings yet
Behinde, which I by no meanes must forget:
The hanging is a necessary thing,
Which is a pretty gamball, cald a a Swing,
And men of good repute I oft haue seene
To hang, and stretch, and totter, for the spleene:
This hanging is a military course,
Not by, the Law, but strength of armes, and force:
Th [...]s euery morning for a little spurt,
[...]man may hang himselfe, and doe no hurt.
This hanging oft (like Tyburne) hath a tricke,
[...] charge of physicke, or of being sicke.
Besides, the word Hang is so much in vse,
That few or none will take't as an abuse;
[...] doth a great mans kindnesse much approue,
When he shall bid a man Behang'd in loue:
And with some men 'tis common courtesie,
To say, Farewell, be hang'd, that's twice God bwy.
The pictures the dearest friends we haue,
Although their corps are rotten in the graue;
We hang them for a reuerend memory
To vs, and vnto our posterity.
[...] hang their wiues in picture, which haue cause
To hang their persons, wer't not for the lawes:
[...] hang their heires in pictures, who would faine
With their good fathers hang'd, their lands to gaine.
[...] oft haue seene good garments for mens wearing,
Haue very thrifily beene hang'd to ayring;
And I have seen those garments (like good fellows)
Hang kindly with their master at the Gallowse,
[...] then in to the Hangmans Wardrobe drop,
Haue beene againe hang'd in a Broakers shop,
Which after by a Cut purse bought might be;
And make another iourney to the Tree;
Twixt which, and twixt the Broaker, it might goe
Or ride, some twelue or thirteene times, or moe.
Thus th'hangmans haruest, and the Brokers grow,
They reape the crop, which sin and shame doth sow.
There are rich Hangings made of Tapestrie,
Of Arras, and of braue embrodery;
Those are for Princes, and for men of worth,
T'adorne their roomes, and set their greatnes forth.
But as dead bones in painted Tombes doe bide,
These b Hangings, filthy rotten wals doe hide.
A Harts-horne to a post fast nailed on,
Serues well for men to hang their hats vpon:
But if they knew their heads would serue the turne,
They would not shift their hats from horne to horn.
Mens swords in Hangers Hang, fast by their side,
Their Stirrops Hang, when as they vse to ride:
Our Conies and our Deere are Hang'd in toiles,
Our meat hangs o'r the fire when as it boiles;
Our light Hangs in the Lanthorne, all men fees
Our fruit wee eat was hang'd vpon the trees,
Signes hang on posts, shew whereas tradsmen dwels,
In steeples all men know are Hang'd the Bels,
The scales or ballance hangs where things are weigh'd
Goods Hang'd in Craines, that's in or out conuei'd;
Yards, failes, sheets, tacks, lists, caskets, bolins, bra­ces,
Are fitly hang'd in their conuenient places.
The compasse that directs where windes doe blow,
Is Hang'd vpon the Needles point we know:
In stately buildings, Timbet, Lead and Stone,
Are Hang'd and hoist, or Buildings would be none.
cOur Maps where in the world described be,
Are all Hang'd vp against the wals we see:
Our Cazements Hang as they doe ope and shut,
Our Curtaines Hang, which bout our beds we put;
Our Hogs are Hang'd, else Bacon we might looke,
Doores Hang on hinges, or I am mistooke;
And many a trusty Padlocke Hangs no doubt,
To let in honest men, and keepe knaues out.
Sea-Cabins Hang, where poore men sleepe and rest,
Our Clokes Hang on our backs 'tis manifest:
The Viall, Citterne, the Bandore and Lute,
Are cas'd or vncas'd, all Hang'd vp and mute:
Our Linnen (being wash'd) must Hang to dry,
Or else Lice will Hang on and multiply:
Thus Hanging's beneficiall to all States,
Whilst Gods dread curse Hangs o'r the reprobates.
And as for those that take my lines amis,
And will be pleas'd to be displeas'd with this,
[Page 134]For groats a piece, nay lesse, for three pence either,
I'll giue them all leaue to be Hang'd together;
Since Hanging then is prou'd so naturall,
So beneficiall, so generall,
So apt, so necessary, and so fit,
Our reason tels vs we should honour it.
It is a good mans life, and 'tis their death,
That rob and rifle men of goods and breath:
This kind of Hanging all offences ends,
From which God euer blesse me and my friends.
I from the Hangman this conclusion draw,
He is the fatall period of the Law:
If thieues or traytors into mischiefe runne,
If he haue done with them, then they hane done.
'Tis often seene that many haplesse men
Haue beene condemn'd and iudg'd, reprieu'd agen,
And pardon'd, haue committed new transgressions,
And in againe oft many a Size and Sessions:
When many warnings mend them not therefore,
The Hangman warnes them, they offend no more.
Hee's the Catastrophe and Epilogue
Of many of the desperate Catalogue;
And he is one that cannot wanted be,
But still God keepe him farre enough from me.

THE DESCRIPTION OF TYBVRNE.

I Haue heard sundry men oft times dispute
Of trees, that in one yeere will twice beare fruit.
But if a man note Tyburne, will appeare,
That that's a tree that beares twelue times a yeere.
I muse it should so fruitfull be, for why
I vnderstand the root of it is dry,
It beares no leafe, no blossome, or no bud,
The raine that makes it fructifie is bloud.
I further note, the fruit which it produces,
Doth seldome serue for profitable vses:
Except the skilfull Surgions industry
Doe make Defection or Anatomy.
It blossomes, buds, and beares, all three together,
And in one houre, doth liue and die, and wither.
Like Sodom Apples, they are in conceit,
For touch'd, they turne to dust and ashes streight.
Besides I find this tree hath neuer bin
Like other fruit trees, wall'd or hedged in,
But in the high-way standing many a yeere,
It neuer yet was rob'd, as I could heart,
The reason is apparent to our eyes,
That what it beares, are dead commodities:
And yet sometimes (such grace to it is giuen)
The dying fruit is well prepar'd for heauen,
And many times a man may gather thence
Remorse, deuotion, and true penitence.
And from that tree, I thinke more soules ascend
To that Coelestiall ioy, which ne'r shall end:
I say, more soules from thence to heau'n doe come,
Than from all * Church-yards throughout Christen­dome
The reason is, the bodies all are dead,
And all the soules to ioy or woe are fled.
Perhaps a weeke, a day, or two, or three,
Before they in the Church-yards buried bee.
But at this Tree, in twinkling of an eye,
The soule and body part immediatly,
There death the fatall parting blow doth strike,
And in Church-yards is seldome seene the like.
Besides, they are assisted with the almes
Of peoples charitable prayers, and Psalmes,
Which are the wings that lift the hou'ring spirit,
By faith, through grace, true glory to inherit.
Concerning this dead fruit, I noted it,
In stead of paste it's put into a pit,
And laid vp carefully in any place,
Yet worme- [...] it growes in little space.
My vnderstanding canby no meanes frame,
To giue this Tyburne fruit a fitter name,
Than Medlers, for I find that great and small,
(To my capacity) are Medlers all.
Some say they are Choak'd peares, and some againe.
Doe call them H [...]rtie Choakes, but 'tis most plaine,
It is a kinde of Medler it doth beare,
Or else I thinke it neuer would come there.
Moreouer where it growes, I find it true,
It often turnes the Herbe of grace to Rue.
Amongst all Pot-herbes growing on the ground,
Time is the least respected, I haue found,
And most abus'd, and therefore one shall see
No branch or bud of it grow neere this Tree:
For 'tis occasion of mans greatest crime,
To turne the vse, into abuse, of Time.
When passions are let loose without a bridle,
Then precious Time is turnd to Loue and Idle:
And that's the chiefest reason, I can show,
Why fruit so often doth on Tyburne grow.
There are inferiour Gallowses which beare
(According to the season) twice a yeare:
And there's a kinde of watrish Tree at Wapping,
Whereas Sea-theeue or Pirats are catch'd napping
But Tyburne doth deserue before them all
The title and addition capitall,
[Page 135] [...] [...] or great Grand Gallowse of our Land,
[...] all therest like ragged Laqueyes stand;
[...] hath (like Luna) full, and change, and quarters,
[...] (like a Merchant) monthly trucks and barters;
[...] all the other Gallowses are fit,
[...] Chapmen, or poore Pedlers vnto it.
Thus Iayles and Iaylors being here explain'd,
How both are good, and for good vse ordain'd:
All sorts of Hanging which I could surmise,
I likewise haue describ'd before your eyes;
And further hauing shew'd what Tyburne is,
With many more inferiour Gallowsis,
My pen from paper with this Prayer doth part,
God blesse all people from their sinnes desart.
FINIS.

The Vnnaturall Father: OR, The cruell Murther committed by one IOHN ROVVSE of the Towne of Ewell, ten miles from London, in the County of Surry, vpon two of his owne Children.

AS a Chaine consists of diuers linkes, and euery linke de­pends and is inyoak'd vpon one another: Euen so our sinnes, being the Chaine wherewith Satan doth binde and manacle vs, are so knit, twisted, and sode­ [...] together, that without our firme faith as­cending, and Gods grace descending, wee can neuer be freed from those infernall fetters; for Sloth is linked with drunkennesse, Drun­kennesse with Fornication and Adultery, and Adultery with Murder, and so of all the rest of the temptations, suggestions, and actions, wherewith miserable men and women are in­snared, and led captiue into perpetuall perdi­tion, except the mercy of our gracious God be our defence and safegard.

For a lamentable example of the Diuels malice, and mans misery; this party, of whom I treat at this time, was a wretch, not to bee matched, a fellow not to be fellowed, and one that scarce hath an equall, for matchlesse misery, and vnnaturall Murther. But to the [...].

This Iohn Rowse being a Fishmonger in Lon­don, gaue ouer his trade, and liued altogether in the Towne of Ewell, neere Nonesuch, in the County of Surry, tenne miles from London, where he had Land of his owne for himselfe and his heires for euer to the value of fifty pounds a yeere, with which he liued in good and honest fashion, being well reputed of all his neighbours, and in good estimation with Gentlemen and others that dwelt in the ad­ioyning Villages.

Vntill at the last hee married a very honest and comely woman, with whom he liued qui­etly and in good fashion some six moneths, til the Diuell sent an instrument of his, to di­sturbe their Matrimoniall happinesse: for they wanting a Maidseruant, did entertaine into their house a Wench, whose name was Iane Blundell, who in short time was better acquainted with her Masters bed then hone­sty required, which in time was found out and knowne by her Mistris, and brake the peace, in such sort, betweene the said Rowse and his Wife, that in the end, after two yeeres continuance, it brake the poore womans heart, [Page 136] that shee dyed and left her husband a widdo­wer, where he and his whore were the more free to vse their cursed contentments, and vn­godly embracements.

Yet that estate of being vnmarried, was displeasing to him, so that hee tooke to wise another woman, who for her outward fea­ture, and inward qualities was euery way fit for a very honest man, although it were her hard fortune to match otherwise.

With this last Wife of his he liued much discontented, by reason of his keeping his lewd Trull in his house, so that by his daily Ryot, excessiue drinking, and vnproportiona­ble spending, his estate began to bee much impouerished, much of his Land morgag'd and forfeited, himselfe aboue two hundred pounds indebted, and in processe of time to be (as a lewd liuer) of all his honest neighbours reiected and contemned.

His estate and credit being almost past re­couerie wasted and impaired, he forsooke his Wife, came vp to London with his Wench, where he fell in new league with a corrupted friend; who (as he said) did most courteously coozen him of all that euer he had, and whom at this time I forbeare to name, because it was Iohn Rowse his request before his executi­on, that he should not be named in any Booke or Ballad, but yet vpon a Dye his name may hee picked out betwixt a Sinke and a Trey. This false friend of his (as he said) did per­swade him to leaue his Wife for altogether, and did lodge and boord him and his para­more certaine weekes in his house, and after­ward caused him and her to bee lodged (ha­uing chang'd his name) as Man and Wife in an honest mans house neere Bishops-gare, at Beuis Marks, where they continued so long, till his money was gone, (as indeed hee neuer had much, but now and then small petty summes from his secret friend aforesaid) and hee being fearefull to bee smoak'd out by his Creditors, was counselled to leaue his Coun­try, and depart for Ireland; and before his go­ing ouer-Sea, his friend wrought so, that all his Land was made ouer in trust to him, and Bonds, Gouenants, and Leases made, as fully bought and sold for a summe of two hundred and threescore pounds; of all which money the said Rowse did take the Sacrament and his death, that he neuer did receiue one penny but he said that now and then he had fiue or ten shillings at a time from his said friend, and neuer aboue twenty shillings; and that all that euer he had of him, being summ'd together, was not aboue three and twenty pounds, the which moneys his friend did pay himselfe out of his Rents. But some more friend to him, then he was to himselfe, did doubt that he was cheated of his Land: whereupon (to make all sure) he said that his false friend did so far preuaile, with him, that hee the said Rowse tooke an Oath in the open Court at West­minster Hall, that hee had lawfully sold his Land, and had receiued the summe aboue said, in full satisfaction and payment, and his said friend did vow and protest many times vnto him, with such oathes and vehement curses, that hee neuer would deceiue his trust, but that at any time when hee would command all those forged Bonds and Leafes, that hee would surrender them vnto him, and that he should neuer bee damnifide by them or him, to the value of one halfe-penny. Vpon which protestations (he said) he was enticed to vn­doe himselfe out of all his earthly possessions, and by a false oath to make hazzard of his in­heritance in Heauen.

In Ireland he staid not long, but came o­uer againe, and was by his friend perswaded to goe into the Low Countries: which hee did, neuer minding his Wife and two small Children which he had by her, hauing like­wise a brace of bastards by his Whore (as some say) but he said that but one of them was of his begetting. But he, after some stay in Holland, saw that he could not fadge there, according to his desire, and withal, suspecting that hee was cheated of his Land, and aboue all, much perplexed in his Conscience for the false oath that hee had taken, pondering his miserable estate, and ruing his vnkindnesse to his Wife, and vnnaturall dealing to his Chil­dren, thinking with himselfe what course were best to take to helpe himselfe out of so [Page 137] many miseries which did incompasse him, he [...] ouer againe into England to his too dare friend, demanding of him his Bonds and [...] of his Land which hee had put him in [...] with all. But then his friend did manifest [...] selfe what he was, and told him plainly, that he had no writings, nor any Land of his, [...] what he had dearely bought and paid for. All which ( Rowse replyed vnto him) was false, [...] his owne Conscience knew. Then said the other, Haue I not here in my custody your land and Seale to confirme my lawfull pos­session of your Land? and moreouer haue I not a Record of an Oath in open Court, which you tooke concerning the truth of all our bar­gaine? And seeing that I haue all these espe­cial points of the Law, as an Oath, Inden­ [...] and a sure possession, take what course you will, for I am resolued to hold what I [...].

These (or the like) words, in effect passed betwixt Rowse and his friend (Trusty Roger) which entring at his eares, pierced his heart like Daggers; and being out of money, and credit, a man much infamous for his bad life, indebted beyond all possible meanes of pay­ment; a periured wretch to coozen himselfe, [...] no place or meanes to feed or lodge, and fearefull of being arrested, hauing so much [...] his Wife, and so little regarded his Children, being now brought to the pits [...] of disperation, not knowing amongst these [...] which way to turne himselfe, hee resolued at last to goe home to Ewell a­gaine to his much wronged Wife, for his last [...] in extremity.

The poore Woman receiued him with ioy, and his Children with all gladnesse welcomed home [...] prodigal Father, with whom he re [...] [...] much discontentment and perplex­ [...] of mind the Diuell still tempting him to [...] and despaire, putting him in mind of his former better estate, comparing plea [...] [...] with present miseries: and he reuol [...] [...] he had beene a man in that Towne, [...] a Gentlemans companion, of good reputation and calling, that hee had Friends, [...] Money Apparell, and Credit, with meanes sufficient to haue left for the mainte­nance of his Family, and that now he had no­thing left him but pouerty and beggery, and that his two Children were like to bee left to goe from doore to doore for their liuing.

B [...]eing thus tormented and tost with rest­lesse imaginations; he seeing daily to his fur­ther griefe, the poore case of his Children, and fearing that worse would befall them hereafter, he resolued to worke some meanes to take away their languishing liues, by a speedy and vntimely death, the which pra­ctice of his (by the Diuels instigation and as­sistance) he effected as followeth.

To bee sure that no body should stop or preuent his diuellish enterprise; hee sent his Wife to London in a friuolous errand, for a ri­ding Coat: and shee being gone somewhat timely, and too soone in the morning, both her children being in bed and fast asleepe, be­ing two very pretty Girles, one of the age of sixe yeeres, and the other foure yeeres old, none being in the house but themselues, their vnfortunate Father, and his ghostly Counsel­ler, the dores being fast locked, hee hauing an excellent Spring of water in the Celler of his house (which, to a good mind that would haue imploy'd it well, would haue beene a blessing: for the water is of that Christaline purity, and cleernesse, that Queene Elizabeth of famous memory would daily send for it for her owne vse.) in which hee purposed to drowne his poore innocent children sleeping: for hee going into the Chamber where they lay, tooke the yongest of them named Eliza­beth, forth of her bed, and carried her downe the Stayres into his Celler, and there put her in the Spring of Water, holding downe her head vnder that pure Element with his hands, till at last the poore harmelesse soule and bo­dy parted one from another.

Which first Act of this his inhumane Tra­gedy being ended, hee carried the dead corps vp three payre of stayres, and laying it downe on the floore, left it, and went downe into the Chamber where his other Daughter, named Mary, was in bed; being newly awaked, and seeing her father, demanded of him where [Page 138] her Sister was? To whom hee made answer that hee would bring her where shee was. So taking her in his armes, he carried her downe towards the Celler: and as hee was on the Celler stayres, shee asked him what he would doe, and whither hee would carry her? Feare nothing, my Childe (quoth hee) I will bring thee vp againe presently: and being come to the Spring, as before he had done with the o­ther, so hee performed his last vnfatherly deed vpon her, and to be as good as his word, carri­ed her vp the stayres and laid her by her sister; that done, he laid them out, and couered them both with a sheete, walking vp and downe his house, weeping and lamenting his owne mise­ry, and his friends treachery, that was the maine ground of all his misfortunes, and the death of his Children: and though there was time and opportunity enough for him to flye, and to seeke for safety; yet the burthen and guilt of his conscience was so heauy to him, and his desperate case was so extreme, that he neuer offered to depart; but as a man weary of his life, would, and did stay till such time as hee was apprehended and sent to Prison, where he lay till hee was rewarded with a iust deserued death.

What his other intents were, after hee had drowned his Children, is vncertaine; for he drew his sword and laid it naked on a Table, and after, hee gat a poore woman downe into the Celler, and in the same place where the two Infants lost their liues, hee did helpe the woman to wring a Bucke of his clothes, and then hee requested her to helpe to conuey his goods out of his house; for hee said that hee feared, that the Sheriffe of Surry would come and seaze vpon all. But the woman not thinking of any of the harme that was done, imagined that he had meant that his goods, would be seazed for debt, and not for murther.

But to returne to the miserable Mother of the murdered Children, shee said that her heart throbbed all the day, as fore-boading some heauy mischance to come: and hauing done her businesse that shee came about to London, as soone as shee came home, she asked for her Children; to whom her Husband answered that they were at a neighbours house in the Towne. Then said shee, I will go thither to fetch them home. No, quoth he, I will goe my selfe presently for them. Then said his Wife, Let the poore woman that is heere, goe and bring them home. But at last shee saw such delay was vsed, shee was going her selfe; then her Husband told her that hee had sent them to a Kinsmans of his at a Vil­lage called Sutton, foure miles from Ewell, and that he had prouided well for them, and pr [...]id her to bee contented and feare nothing, for they were well. These double tales of his, made her to doubt somewhat was amisse: therefore shee intreated him for Gods sake to tell her truly where they were. Whereup­on hee said, If you will needs know where they are, goe but vp the stayres into such a Chamber, and there you shall find them. But in what a lamentable perplexity of mind the poore woman was, when shee perceiued how and which way they lost their liues, any Chri­stian that hath an heart of flesh may imagine. Presently the Constable was sent for, who tooke him into his custody, who amongst o­ther talke, demanded of him why and how he could commit so vnnaturall a fact, as to mur­der his Children? To whom hee answered, that he did it, because he was not able to keep them, and that hee was loth they should goe about the Towne a begging: and moreouer, that they were his owne, and being so, that hee might doe what hee would with them, and that they had their liues from him, and therefore he had taken their liues from them, and was contented to lose his life for them: for hee was sure that their miseries were past, and for his part, he had an assured hope to goe to them, though they could not come to him.

So being had before a Iustice, his Exami­nation was very briefe; for hee confest all the whole circumstances of the matter freely; so that hee was sent to the common Prison of Surry, cal'd the White Lyon, where he remained fourteene or fifteene weekes a wonderfull pe­nitent Prisoner, neuer, or very seldome, being without a Bible or some other good boo [...]e meditating vpon; and when any one did but [Page 139] mention his Children, hee would fetch a deep [...] and weep, desiring euery one to pray for [...]: and vpon his owne carenest request, hee [...] [...]aide for at Pauls Crosse, and at most of [...] Churches in London, and at many in the Country, and at the Sessions holden at Croy­ [...], the latter end of Iuno last, hee made such confesslion at the Barre, declaring the [...] of his life, his odious Drinking, his [...]minable Whoring, his cruell Murther, [...] the false dealing of his deceitfull freind, [...] was the cause of his finall wrack: with [...] Relations of his pronounced, with vehemencey and protestations, hee mo­ [...] all that heard him to commiseration and [...].

So according to Law and Iustice, hee was [...] condemned and iudged (for the mur­ [...]ering of his two Children) to be hang'd; [...] Iudgement was executed on him at [...] Gallowes at Croydon, on Mun­day the second day of Iune, 1621. where hee [...] with great penirency and remorce of [...].

This was the lamentable end of Iohn Rowse, [...] of the age of fifty yeeres, and one that [...] right haue liu'd and dyed in better fashion, [...] had laid hold on the grace of heauen, [...] Gods protection and fatherly as­ [...] [...]; but of all that herein is declared, this [...] which I now declare, is most lamen­ [...] and remarkable; which is, that Ewell [...] a Market Towne, not much aboue ten [...] from London, in a Christian Kingdome, [...] such a Kingdome, where the all-sauing World of the euer liuing God is most dili­ [...] sincerely, and plentifully preached, [...] this diligence, as it were in [...] or Center of this sincerity, and in [...] of this plenty, the Towne of Ewell [...] neither Preacher not Pastor: for al­ [...] [...]son age be able to maintaine on [...] Preacher, yet the liuing beeing in a [...] hand, is rented out to another for [...] and yet no Preacher main­ [...] [...] Now the chiefe Landlord out of [...] doth allow but seuen pounds [...] Reader, and the other that doth hyre the Parsonage at a great Rent, doth giue the said Reader foure pound the yeere more out of his meanes and courtesie, and by this meanes the Towne is serued with a poore old man that is halfe blinde, and by reason of his age can scarcely read: for all the world knowes, that so small a stipend cannot finde a good Preacher Bookes, and very hardly bread to liue on; so that the poore soules, dwelling there, are in danger of famishing, for want of a good Preacher to breake the Bread of life vnto them: for a Sermon amongst them, is as rare as warme weather in December, or Ice in Iuly: both which I haue seene in England, though but seldome.

And as the Wolfe is most bold with the Sheepe, when there is either no Shepheard, or an impotent insufficient one, so the Diuell (perhaps) tooke his aduantage of this wretch­ed man, seeing hee was so badly guarded, and so weakly guided to withstand his force and malice: for where God is least knowne and called vpon, there Satan hath most power and domination. But howsoeuer, I wish with all my heart, that that Towne and many more were better prouided then they are, and then such numbers of soules would not be in haz­zard to perish; nor so many sufficient schol­lers that can preach and teach well, liue in penuryo through want of maintenance. I could runne further vpon this point, but that I doe shortly purpose to touch it more to the quick in another Booke!

By this mans fall, wee may see an example of Gods Iustice againste Drunkennes, Whore­dome, and Murder; the Diuell being the first Author, who was a Murtherer from the be­ginning: when [...]l'd Cat [...] with Enuy, that hee murdered his brother Abel: who tempted Dauid first to Adultery, and afterwards to Murther; who prouoked Herod to cause the blessed Seruant of God Iohn Baptist to lose his head, because hee told him it was not lawfull for him to marry his brother Philips Wife; and who was the prounker of the aforesaid Herod to marther all the innocent male chil­dren in his Kingdome. And let vs but marke and consider the plagues and punishments [Page 140] that God hath inflicted vpon Murderers, A­dulterers, and incestuous persons: First Cain, although by his birth hee was the first man that euer was borne, a Prince by his birth, and heire apparant to all the world; yet for the Murther by him committed on his brother, he was the first Vagabond and Runnagate on the face of the earth, almost fearefull of his owne shaddow: and after he had liued a long time terrifide in Conscience, was himselfe slaine (as is supposed) by Lamech, Simeon and Leui the sonnes of Iacob were accurst of their Father for the slaughter of the Sichemites; Ioab the Captaine of Dauids Host, was slaine for the murthering of Abner; Dauid himselfe, for the death of Vrlas, and the Adultery com­mitted with Bethsheba, was continually pla­gued and vexed with the Sword of Warre, with the Rebellion of his owne sonnes, and with the vntimely deaths of A [...]non, and Abso­len. Baanah and Rechab, for the slaying of Ish­besheth the sonne of Saul, they were both by Dauids commandement put to death, who had both their hands and feete cut off, and were afterward hanged ouer the Poole in He­bron: Samuell 2. 4. The examples are infinite out of diuine and humane Histories, that God did neuer suffer Murder to goe vnrewarded: and this miserable man, of whom I haue here related, is a most mainfest spectacle of Gods reuenging vengeance, for that crying and hai­nous sinne.

As concerning Lust and Incontinency, it is a short pleasure, bought with long paine, a hunnied poyson, a Gulfe of shame, a Pick­purse, a breeder of Diseases, a gall to the Con­science, a corrofide to the heart, turning mans wit into foolish madnesse, the bodies bane, and the soules perdition to it is excessiue in youth, and odious in age, besides, God him­selfe doth denounce most fearefull threats a­gainst Fornicators and Adulterers, as the A­postle saith, that Whormongers and Adulte­rers shall not inherit the Kingdome of Hea­uen, 1. Cer. 6. 9. And God himselfe saith, that hee will bee a swift witnesse against Adulte­rers, Mal. 3.5. And the Wise man saith, that be­cause of the whorish woman, a man is brought to a [...] [...] of bread, and a woman will hunt for the precious lif [...] of a man: For, faith he, can a man take fire in [...] bosome, and his cloathes not bee burnt? or can [...] man goe vpon hot Coales, and his feet not be burnt. So hee that goesh in to his neighbours Wife, [...] not be innocent, Prou. 6. 27, 28, 29. Abimelech one of the sonnes of Gedeon, murdered three score and ten of his Brethren; and in reward thereof (by the iust Iudgement of God) a wo­man with a piece of a Milstone beat out his braines, after he had vsurped the Kingdome three yeeres, Iudges the 9. Our English Chro­nicles make mention, that Roger Mortimer Lord Baron of Wallingford, merdered his Ma­ster King Edward the second, and caused the Kings Vncle, Edmund Earle of Kent, cause­lesly to bee beheaded: but Gods Iustice o­uertooke him at last, so that for the said Mur­ders he was shamefully executed. Humph [...] Duke of Glocester was murdered in the Abbey of Bary by William de la Poole Duke of Suffo [...] who afterward was beheaded himselfe on the Sea by a Pyrat. Arden of Feuersham, and P [...] of Plimmouth, both their Murders are fresh [...] memory, and the fearfull ends of their Wiue and their Ayders in those bloudy actions will neuer be forgotten.

It is too manifestly known, what a number of Stepmothers, and Strumpets haue most in humanely murdred their Children, and so the same haue most deseruedly beene execu­ted. But in the memory of man (nor scarcely in any History) it is not to be found, that a Fa­ther did euer take two Innocent Children [...] of their beds, and with weeping teares of p [...] ­ [...]ilesse pity, and vnmercifull meroy, to drown them, shewing such compassionate cruelty and sorrowfull sighing, remorcelesse remo [...] in that most vnfatherly and vnnaturall deed.

All which may be attributed to the malice of the Diuell, whose will and endeauour that none should be saued, who layes out his traps and snares, intangling some with Lu­ [...] some with Couetousnesse, some with Ambiti­on, Drunkennesse, Enuy, Murder, Sloth, or any Vice whereto he sees a man or a woman mo [...] inclined vnto, as he did by this wretched ma [...]lulling him, as it were, in the cradle of sens [...], [Page 141] and vngodly delight, vntill such time as [...] his meanes, reputation, and credit was [...] and nothing left him but misery and [...]. Then hee leads him along through [...] and feares, to haue no hope in Gods [...], perswading his Conscience that [...] sinnes were vnpardonable, and his estate [...] credit vnrecouerable.

With these suggestions, hee led him on to despaire, and in desperation to kill his Chil­dren, and make shipwracke of his owne soule in which the diligence of the Diuell [...], that hee labours and trauels vn­ [...] and as Saint Bernard saith, in the [...] day shall rise in condemnation against vs, because hee hath euer beene more diligent to destroy soules, thē we haue been to saue them. And for a Conclusion, let vs beseech God of [...] infinite mercy to defend vs from all the [...] temptations of Satan.

IOHN ROVVSE his Prayer for pardon of his lewd life, which bee vsed to pray in the time of his imprisonment.

GOD of my Soule and Body, haue mercy vpon mee; the one I haue cast away by my Folly, and the other is likely to perish in thy Funy vnlesse in thy great mercie thou [...]. My Sinnes are deepe Seas to drowne me; I am swallowed vp in [...] bottomlesse gulfe of my owne [...]gressions. With Cain I haue beene Murtherer, and with Iudas a Betrayer me Innocent. My body is a slaue to [...], and my wretched Soule is deúou­ [...] vp by Hell Blacke haue beene my [...], and blacker are my deeds. I haue beene the Diuels instrument, and am now become the scorne of men; a a Serpent vpon earth, and an Outcast from Heauen. What therefore can be­come of mee (miserable Caitifle? If I looke vp to my Redeemer, to him I am an Arch Traytor, if vpon Earth, it is drowned with Blood of my shedding, if into Hell, there I see my Conscience burning in the Brimstone Lake. God of my Soule and Body haue mercy there­fore vpon mee; Saue mee, O saue mee, or else I perish for euer; I dye for euer in the world to come, vnlesse (sweet Lord) thou catchest my repētant Soule in thine Armes; O saue me, saue me, saue me.

JOHN ROVVSE of Ewell his owne Arraignment, Confession, Con­demnation, and Iudgement of himselfe, whilst hee lay Prisoner in the White Lyon, for drowning of his two Children.

I Am arraign'd at the blacke dreadfull Barre,
Where Sinnes (sored as Scarlet) Iudges are:
All my Inditements are my horrid Crimes,
Whose Story will affright succeeding Times,
As (now) they driue the present into wonder,
Making Men trēble, as trees strucke with Thunder.
If any askes what euidence comes in?
O 'Tis my Conscience, which hath euer bin
A thousand witnesses: and now it tels
A Tale, to cast me to ten thousand Hels.
The Iury are my Thoughts (vpright in this,)
They sentence me to death for doing amisse:
Examinations more there need not then,
Than what's confest here both to God and Men.
The Cryer of she Court is my blacke Shame,
Which when it calls my Iury, doth proclaime,
Vnlesse (as they are summon'd) they appeare,
To giue true Verdict of the Prisoner,
[Page 142]They shall haue heauy Fines vpon them set,
Such, as may make them dye deepe in Heauens debt:
About me round sit Innocence and Truth,
As Clerkes to this high Court; and little Ruth
From Peoples eyes is cast vpon my face:
Because my facts are barbarous, damn'd, and base.
The Officers that 'bout me (thicke) are plac'd,
To guard me to my death, (when I am cast)
Are the blacke stings my speckled soule now feeles,
Which like to Furies dogge me, close at heeles.
The Hangman that attends me, is Despaire,
And g [...]owing wormes my fellow-Prisoners are.

His Inditement for murder of his Children.

THe first who (at this Sessions) [...] doth call me
Is Murder, whose grim visage doth appall me;
His eyes are fires, his voice rough winds out-rores,
And on my bead the Diuine vengeance scares:
So fast and fearefully I sinke to ground,
And with [...] were in twenty Oceans drownd.
He sayes, I haue a bloudy Villaine bin,
And (to proue this) ripe Euidence steps in,
Brew'd like my selfe: Iustice so brings about,
That blacke sinnes still hunt one another out:
'Tis like a rotten frame ready to fall;
For one maine Post being shaken, puls downe all.
To this Inditement, (holding vp my hand,)
Fattered with Terrors more then Irons stand,
And being ask'd what to the Bill I say,
Guilty, I cry. O dreadfull Sessions day [...]

His Iudgement.

FOr these thick Stigian streams in which th' ast [...]
Thy guilt hath on thee la [...]d this bitter doome;
Thy loath'd life on a Tree of shame must take
A leaue compeld by Law, e'r old age make
Her signed Passe port ready. Thy offence
No longer can for dayes on earth dispense.
Time blot thy name out of this bloudy roule,
And so the Lord haue mercy on my Soule.

His speech what hee could say for himselfe.

O Wretched Caitiffe! what perswasiue breath,
Can cal back this iust Sentence of quick death
I begge no beene, but mercy at Gods hands,
(The King of Kings, the Soueraigne that cōma [...]
Both Soule and Body) O let him forgiue
My Treason to his Throne, and whilst I liue,
Iebbits and Racks shall torture limme by limme,
Through worlds of Deaths I'l breake to fly to him.
My Birth-day gaue not to my Mothers wombe,
More ease, then this shall ioyes, when e'r it come.
My body mould to earth, sinnes sink to Hell,
My penitent Soule win Heauen, vain world farewell.
FINIS.

TAYLORS REVENGE: OR, The Rimer VVILLIAM FENNOR, firkt, ferrited, and finely fetcht ouer the Coales.

To any that can read.

BE thou either Friend or Foe or indifferent, all's one, Read, Laugh, like or dislike all the care is taken: The chiefest cause why I wrote this, was on set purpose to please myselfe. Yet to shew thee the meaning of this little building, imagine the Epistle to be the doore, and if thou please come in and see what stuffe the wh [...] Frame is made off. Bee it therefore knownne vnto all men that I, Iohn Taylor Waterman [...] [Page 143] [...]agree with William Fennor, (who arrogantly and falsely entitles himselfe the Kings Mas [...] [...]Riming Poet) to answer me at a triall of Wit, on the seuenth of October last 1614 [...] the Hope stage on the Bank-side, and the said Fennor receiued of mee ten shillings in [...] of his comming to meet me, whereupon I caused 1000 bills to be Printed, and diuulg'd [...]1000 wayes and more, giuing my Friends and diuers of my acquaintance notice of [...] Bear-garden banquet of dainty Conceits; and when the day came that the Play should [...]haue beene performed, the house being fill'd with a great Audience, who had all spent their mo­ [...] extraordinarily: then this Companion for an Asse, ran away and left mee for a Foole, amongst thousands of criticall Censurers, where I was ill thought of by my friends, scorned by [...], and in conclusion, in a greater puzzell then the blinde Beare in the midst of all her [...]broth. Besides the summe of twenty pounds in money, I lost my Reputation amongst [...], and gaind disgrace in stead of my better expectations. In Reuenge of which wrongs done [...] me by the said Riming Rascall, I haue written this Inuectiue against him, chiefly be­cause ill-looking Hound doth not confesse he hath intur'd mee, nor hath not so much honestly [...] bring or send me my money that he tooke for earnest of me; but on the contrary parts [...] and abuses mee with his calumnious tongue, and scandalizeth me in all Companies [...] beares me nominated. But in a word, Reader, when thou hast read this that followes, I thinke thou wilt iudge me cleare of the many false Imputations that are laid vpon mee. So I [...]thee to thy Considerations, and I proceed to my Exclamations.

Thine as thou art mine, IOHN TAYLOR.

WILLIAM FENNOR. Anagramma. NV VILLANY For me; OR, Forme NV VILLANY.

NV VILLANY Forme, Nue, fresh and New,
Or Forme NV VILLANY, Come Turk, come Iew,
[...] who dares come, for I haue found a Theame,
That ouerflowes with matter like a streame.
And now stand cleere, my masters, 'ware your shins,
For now to kick and fling my Muse begins.
How fit his name is Anagrammatiz'd,
And how his Name is Anatomiz'd,
'Twould make a horse with laughing breake his bridle,
But to the purpose, long delayes are idle.

TO WILLIAM FENNOR.

COME Sirrha, Rascall, off your clothes S r, strip,
For my Satyrrick whip shall make you skip:
Th'adst better to haue dealt with all the Deuils,
They could not plague thee with so many euils.
Nay come man, neuer whine, or crooch, or kneele,
My heart cannot one lot of pitty feele,
I haue squeez'd the Gall from out the Lernean snake.
With which, Reuengefull Inke I meane to make,
Which I with Aqua-fortis will commix,
Yblended with the lothsome Lake of Stix,
[Page 144]And with that Marrow-eating hatefull Inke
I'll make thee (more then any Aiax) stinke,
A Scritch-owles quill shall be my fatall pen,
That shall emblaze thee basest slaue of men.
So that when as the pur-blind world shall see
How vildly thou hast plaid the Rogue with mee,
They shall perceiue I wrong them not for pelse,
And thou shalt (like a Rascall) hang thy selfe.
What damned Villaine would forsweare & sweare
At thou didst, 'gainst my challenge to appeare,
To answer me at Hope, vpon the stage,
And thereupon, my word I did ingage,
And to the world did publish printed Bills,
With promise that we both would shew our skills.
And then your Rogue-ship durst not shew your face,
But ran away, and left me in disgrace.
To thee, ten shillings I for earnest gane
To bind thee, that thou shouldst not play the Knaue.
Curre, hadst thou no mans Credit to betray
But mine, or couldst thou find no other way,
To Sharke, or Shift, or Cony-catch for mony,
But to make me thy Asse, thy Foole, thy Cony?
Could not thy Squire and thee, (a brace of Varlots)
Rim'd, Fool'd, & Pip'd, 'mongst pocky Wh [...]res & Har­lots,
For two-pence in some drunken Bawdy-booth
To please thy Dexy-dells sweet stinking tooth,
Wheras thou mightst (as thou hast often done)
Some scraps and broken beere, for wages wone,
Which to maintaine thy state had been some meanes
Amongst thy fellowes, Rascalls, Rogues, & Queanes.
Thou scuruy squint-eyd brazen-fac'd Iaboon,
Thou dam'd Stigmaticall foule Pantaloone,
Thou Tausrne, Alchouse, Whorehouse, Gig of time,
That for a groat wilt amongst Tinkers rime.
I'll hale from Hell grim visag'd Nemesis,
Whom I will Scull o'r siluer Thamesis,
Which to and fro, shall still tormant and towze thee,
And none but Runnagates (like thee) shall howze thee.
Thine owne tongue (trumpet like) each where pro­claimes
Thy selfe a seruant to my Soueraigne Iames,
When as thy seruice to the King is such
As Athiests vnto God, and scarce so much.
It may bee (graclesse) thou hast graced bin,
And in the Presence didst admittaince win,
Where some stolne rimes, and some things of thine owne
To please the eares of Greatnesse thou hast showne.
Which (at the first hath wonne thee some applawse,
Although perhaps not worth three barly strawes.
And you for sooth, must presently giue out
Amongst your kitching stuffe whor-hedge bird rout,
What Noble-man your scuruinesse did bring
Into the Court, and how our Gracious King,
(As on a man most worthy to bestow it)
Intitled yon his Highnesse Riming Poet.
How dares thy ouerweening fancy tongue,
Presume to doe a Poets name that wrong?
How darst thou (being altogether vile)
Attribute to thy selfe that Sacred stile?
Shall that rare Art (which gods and men admire,
Polluted beby such a scur [...]le Squire?
Shall Heau'n-bred Po [...]sie that so long hath lasted,
With thy contagious breath be Bussard-blasted?
Then Homer from thy Toomb, with speed returne,
And M [...]rre round thee from thy peacefull Vine.
Braue Naso to the world againe retire,
And repossesse that rare Promothean fire,
Which erst inspir'd you, heere you may behold,
The face of Impudency ouer-bold,
That dares put on that sweet Poetique name,
Which hath eterniz'd your Immortall fame.
Reuenge yon Musas, vp, awake, awake,
Or euer sinke to the Letb [...]an Like,
And you braue Moderne Poets, whose sweet lines,
All Heau'nly, earthly, Harmony combines,
Can you, O can your son [...] be stupidious,
And see your selues abused thus persidious!
Oh, if the ease were mine, as it is yours,
I would raine vengeance in rengefull showres,
Which furious storme for euer should disperse,
And dath to pieces these base Groomes in verse.
An Asse in cloth of gold [...] is but an Asse,
And Riming-Rascalls may for Poo [...]s passe,
Amongst mis-iudging, and illiterate hynds,
But iudgement knowes to vse them in their kinds.
My selfe knowes how (sometimes) a verse to frame,
Yet dare I not put on a Poets name,
And I dare write with thee at any time
For what thou darst, in either Prose or Rime,
For thou of Poesic art the very scum
Of Riff-raff-Rubish wit, the totall summe,
The lothsome Glaunders of all base abuse,
The onely Filch-line of each lab [...]ing A [...]use,
The Knaue, the Asse, the Coxcomb and the Foole,
The scorne of Poets, and true wits Close-stoole.
But all your Tauerne and your Alehouse prate,
Is how your entertainment was in State,
With this great Lord, and that embrodered Knight,
With that faire Countesse, and that Lady bright,
Though where thou come thou shift, & Iye, & [...],
As welcome as a Dog into a Church.
Dost thinke the King and's Courtiers doth not see
And know that nothing good can come from thee?
Can Swine yeeld sweet perfumes,
Can Swans breed Crowes?
Can flatt'ring Rogues haue but dissembling showes?
Can health be hidden in the plague or po [...]?
Can men take pride in fetters, bonds or stocks?
And more vnpossible then are all these,
It is that thou shouldst any wise man please,
Except it be a flash, a sparke, a spurt,
Soon in, soone out, and then as sweet as durt,
Or like a candle's snuffe, for pleasing scent,
Thou leau'st them deeply pleasd with discontent,
[Page 145] [...] thou like stinking Fish) art growne so stale,
[...] whole [...] Rime not worth a pot of Ale.
[...] shortly doe hope to see braue sport,
To haue thee soundly whip'd from out the Court:
For well I know my King will not allow
[...] house to harbour such a Rague as thou.
[...] to God, my Ink-horne I'll not shut,
[...] steepe shall not mine eyes together put,
Before each night I write some scourging verse,
That in reuenge thy Iadish heart shall pierce.
For I, whose credit ne'r before was tainted,
[...]ot euer was with cheating tricks acquainted,
To be by thee thus basely vsde and crost,
And in the world my reputation lost,
And [...]ll by thee, that merit'st nought but banging,
[...] sure I thinke, thou'lt ne'r be worth the hanging.
[...] rather then thou shouldst a hanging want,
[...] trusse thee vp for naught, were Hangmen scant,
[...], I would doe it freely, and for nothing,
And giue thy Wife againe my fee and cloathing:
Which courtesie of mine, no doubt, would moue
The creatures kindnesse to requite my loue.
[...] her thou laid'st the fault: thou said'st that shee
Did force thee basely runne away from mee.
Thou Dolt, thou Dunce, more blockish then a Mule,
None but a Wittall giues his wife the rule.
No, 'twas thy Coward heart, ful fraught with feare,
'Twas nothing else that made thee not appeare.
Hadst thou the conquest got, I had not car'd,
So thou vnto thy word hadst had regard,
Then sure the Players had not playd a play,
But thou or I had borne away the day.
And now to giue the world a little tast
Of the strange brunts and puzzles that I past,
I will not write a word shall be vntrue,
That men may know, thou vsde me like a Iew,
And that I doe not raile on thee so sore,
But that my wrongs doe vrge me to doe more.
The house was fil'd with Newters, Foes, & Friends,
And euery one their money frankly spends.
But when I saw the day away did fade,
And thy look'd for appearance was not made,
I then stept out, their angers to appease,
But they all raging, like tempestuous Seas:
Cry'd ou [...] their expectations were defeated,
And how they all were cony-catch'd and cheated
[...]ome laught some swore, some star'd & stamp'd and curst;
And in confused humors all out burst.
I(as I could) did stand the desp'rate shock,
And bid the brunt of many dang'rous knock.
For now the stinkards, in their irefull wraths
[...]epelted me with Lome, with Stones, and Laths,
One madly fits like bottle- Al, and hisses,
Another throwes a stone, and cause he misses,
He yawnes and bawles, and cryes Away, away:
Another cryes out, Iohn, begin the Play.
I thinke this Babel of confused action
Would sure haue made thee stink with feares distra­ction,
One sweares and stormes, another laughs & smiles,
Another madly would pluck off the tiles.
Some runne to'th doore to get againe their coyne,
And some doe shift, and some againe purloine.
One valiantly stept out vpon the Stage,
And would teare downe the hangings in his rage.
(God grant hee may haue hanging at his end,
That with me for the hangings did contend.)
Such clapping, hissing, swearing, stamping, smiling,
Applauding, scorning, liking, and reuiling,
Did more torment mee then a Purgatorie:
Yet I (in scorne of windie pomp stage glory)
Did stand it out, vnconquer'd, vnsubdude,
Despight the Hydra-headed multitude.
Now goodman Dog, a halter catch your muzzell,
Your not appearance brought me in this puzzell,
But I (to giue the Audience some content)
Began to act what I before had ment:
And first I plaid a maundering Roguish creature,
(A part thou couldst have acted well by nature)
Which act did passe, and please, and fild their iawes
With wrinkled laughter, and with good applause.
Then came the players, and they play'd an act,
Which greatly from my action did detract.
For 'tis not possible for any one
To play against a company alone,
And such a company (I'll boldly say)
That better (nor the like) e'r play'd a Play.
In briefe, the Play my action did cclips,
And in a manner seal'd vp both my lips.
Suppose it were a black Cimmerian night,
And that some 12 or 16 Torches light
Should make night seeme an artificiall day,
And then suppose, these Torches past away,
Whilst dismall darknesse straight resumes the place,
Then after all comes in with glimm'ring pace
A silly Taper. How would that alone
Shew when the flaming Torches all were gone?
Eu'n so seem'd I, amidst the guarded troope
Of gold-lac'd Actors, yet all could not droope
My fixed mind, for where true courage roots,
The Prouerb sayes, Once ouer shooes, o'r boots.
'Twere easier to subdude wilde Beares or Bores,
Or row to High-gate with a paire of Oares,
Or to make thee an vpright honest man,
(Which sure God will not, nor the Diuell can)
'Twere lesser labour to blow downe Pauls-steeple,
Then to appease, or please the raging people.
The Play made me as sweet in their opinions,
As Tripes well fry'd in Tarr, or Egges with Onions,
I, like a Beare vnto the stake was tide,
And what they said, or did, I must abide.
A pox vpon him for a Ro [...]ue, sayes one,
And with that word he throwes at me a stone,
[Page 146]A second my estate doth seeme to pitty,
And saies my action's good, my speeches witty.
A third doth screw his chaps awry, and mew,
His selfe conceited wisdome so to shew.
Thus doth the Third, the Fourth, the Fift and Six
Most Galliemaufrey-like their humors mix.
Such Motley, Medley, Linsey-Woolsey speeches
Would sure haue made thee vilifie thy breeches.
What I endur'd vpon that earthly hell,
My tongue or pen cannot describe it well.
And rather then [...] doe the like once more,
I would be married to an arrant Whore.
And that's a plague I could wish well to thee,
For it would worser then a hanging bee.
And let me say my best in my excuse,
The Audience all were wrong'd with great abuse,
Great cause they had to take it in offence,
To come from their affaires with such expence
By Land and Water, and then it the play
So extraordinarily to pay,
And when the thing should bee that they expected,
Then nothing to their likings was effected.
Their mirth to madnes, liking turn'd to lothing,
For when all came to all, all came to nothing.
Thus hast thou had a little slender taste
Of my designes, and how I was disgrac'd,
For which I am beholding to you, Sir,
For had you come, there had beene no such stir,
Not 'cause the people long'd thy selfe to see,
But that they look'd thou shouldst disgraced bee.
To see vs two the people did repaire,
And not to see or heare or play or Player.
Why what a faithlesse Rascall art thou then?
Dar'st thou to looke vpon me once agen?
Which if thou dost, were't not for feare of Lawes,
I'de stab my Dagger thorow both thy iawes.
But much I scorne my fingers should be foule
With beating such a durty dunghill-Owle.
But I'll rib-roast thee, and burn-bast thee still
With my enraged Muse, and angry Quill.
And so I leaue thy carkas and apparell
Vnto the Hangman, who shall end our quarrell.
My full opinion of thee sure is this,
In no Church-booke thy name recorded is,
But that thou wast begotten in some ditch,
Betwixt a Tinker and a Maundring Witch,
And sure thy birth did equall thy begetting,
I thinke thy Mother in the Sun-shine fitting,
Basking her selfe close to some hedge of Thorne,
And so without a Midwife thou wast borne.
And there the Sunne with his illustrous light
Screwd quite awry the Windowes of thy sight.
Then afterwards the Matron [...] thought it meet
To wrap thee vp within some hedge-stolne sheet,
And making thee her sweet vnchristian packe,
Some six or seu'n yeere bare thee on her backe,
Instructing thee in the braue Canting tong,
And how in Pedler's French to sing a song,
And Rime for Butter-milke, for Curds and Whay,
And in a Barne at night thy bones to lay.
This I doe thinke of thee, I'll not say so,
Thou know'st it best if it be so or no.
This (by thine owne report) some few yeeres since
Thou Rim'st at Grauesend for some fourteene pence
I'the street, from seuenteene people vnrespected,
This Graund Collection, iustly was collected.
As I doe hope for blisse, I hate thee not
For any goods or credit thou hast got
In court or Citty. But thy praise I'll sing,
If any way thou didst delight the King.
So many tedious cares are daily throwne
Vpon the Royall-head that weares a Crowne,
That into action I would melt my spright,
Thereby to giue my Sou'raigne some delight.
For such things I doe loue and wish thee well,
But that I thinke no such in thee doe dwell.
Therefore I hate thee, as thou dost behaue
Thy selfe like to a cooz'ning paltry Knaue.
What heere I write, vpon thee I'll make good,
And in the hazzard I'll engage my bloud.
But as I said before, againe I'll say,
I scorne on such a Rascall, hands to lay,
For the old prouerb is Authenticall,
(Who touches pitch shall be defilde withall.)
Thou hast a pate can forge a Mint of lies,
Else how is't possible thou couldst deuise
At once to flap me and the world i'th mouth,
That thou wast rid, East, West, and North, & South?
That day thou shouldst haue met me on the Stage
Thou wentst three waies at once on pilgrimage,
Thou sent'st me word tho' wast sent for to the Court,
Thy wife said, thou with speed must make resort
To fetch her portion out of Warwick-shire,
And the day after 'twas my chance to heare,
How thou for begging of a Fellons pardon,
Wast rid downe into Kent to fetch thy guerdon.
So that the portion that thou wentst to fet,
Thou from the Gallowes (thy best friend) didst get,
But though thou rob the Gallowes of his fee,
It will (at last) for principall catch thee.
Where (for thou guld'st me at the Hope) I hope
Thou wilt conclude thy rogu'ry in a Rope,
Three Trees, two Rampant, and the other Cross [...])
One halter Pendant, and a ladder Passant,
In a field Azure, (clouded like the Skye)
Because 'twixt Earth and Ayre I hope thou'lt dye.
These Armes for thee, my muse hath Heraldiz'd,
And to exalt thee, them shee hath deuisde.
Then when thou bidst the world thy last good-night
Squint vpward, and cry, Gallowes, claime thy right.
To whose protection, thy estate I render,
And all thy Rights and Titles I surrender,
[Page 147] [...] Carkas and thy Manners (that are euill)
[...] [...], Hangman, and (thy fire) the Deuill.
IOHN TAYLOR.

To the Reader

NOw honest Reader (if thou be so) tell,
Haue I not Canuas'd this same Rascall well?
[...] thinkes I heare some say I am too bitter,
And if I were more milde, they hold it fitter.
[...] such men truely but conceiue my wrong,
And thinke the case did to themselues belong:
When such a fellow with me shall agree,
And take my money for an earnest fee:
And make me print a thousand Bils and moto,
And daily on the Posts to clap vp store,
For thousand Readers as they passe the way,
To see my name engag'd to play a Play
[...] 'Gainst William Fennor, my Antagonist;
And then, for me each houre to persist,
(Vpon his word) to study and to write,
And scarce in six weekes rest or day, or night;
And when the time is come the play should be,
My opposite should run away from me,
And leaue me to be made a wondring stocke,
[...] aby-word, for the world to mocke:
To make me lose my credit, and my name.
To be o'rtlouded with perpetuall shame.
Iudge, if this would not moue a man to spleene,
To be this basely vs'd as I haue beene.
This to the censure of the World I send
This sharpe Inuectiue, which my Anger pend.
And as my wrong was publike, so will I
Reuenged be vpon him publikely.
And for him I haue worse [...] Rods in pisse,
[...] be but dare to write and answer this.
But if he durst no better play the Knaue
Then answer me, he would not goe so braue.
But yet heer's one thing was almost forgot,
Which till this time my Muse remembred not,
And sure it must his Fooleship needs molest,
This hath beene read and laught at by the Best,
That when he dares but to the Court to come,
His entertainment will be like Iack Drum.

To my Friends.

ANd now, kind Friends, a word or two to you,
Before I bid your Iudgements all adiew.
Full well I know you all were angred much,
That my vnfortunate euents were such:
And well I know, you do beleeue and know,
I meant no shuffling-shifting tricke to show.
To you my minde doth need no more reuealing,
You all doe know I meant plaine vpright dealing;
And sure I hope your informations will
Defend me 'gainst the force of scandall still.
There were some Lords, some Knights, Esquires, and some
Good Marchants, Tradesmen, to the Play did come,
On purpose onely for my onely sake,
The most of which I know will vndertake,
To doe me any good in word or deed,
If my occasions did require their need:
Though my deserts can no such fauour win,
Yet well they know I still haue honest bin:
I speake not this in any tearmes of boast,
For why, my faults are equall with the most:
But this is written, that it may appeare,
That I from cony-catching tricks am cleare:
And vnto all the world I dare appeale,
Who dares accuse me that I did misdeale.
So crauing pardon where I haue transgrest,
I wish my Friends all earthly, heau'nly rest.

To my despightfull Foes.

TO you that screwd your Iawes awry, & mewd,
And so your worthlesse, witlesse wisdom shewd,
And now and then bestow'd a hisse or twaine,
(To giue more vent to your fantasticke braine)
You might haue kept away, I sent not for you.
If you hate me, I doe as much abhor you:
Like Guests vnbid, you might haue brought your stools,
For as you came, you went away like Fools.
The purpose which my study did intend,
Was by no meanes any one to offend;
And therefore whatsoeuer that they be,
That enuiously do raile and snarle at me,
I can no lesse doe, but with word and pen,
Informe them that they are malicious men.
'Gainst no man in particular I write,
But generally to all that beare me spight:
I pray for them (to make their fury madder)
God turn their hearts, or Hangman turn the ladder,
Which turning sure will either mend or end them,
To one of which my daily Prayers commend them.
FINIS.

FENNORS DEFENCE: OR, I AM YOVR FIRST MAN. Wherein the Water-man, IOHN TAYLOR, is dasht, sowst, and finally fallen into the Thames: With his slanderous Taxations, base Imputations, scandalous Accusations, and foule Abominations, against his Maiesties Ryming Poet: who hath answered him without Vexa­tions or trembling Recantations.

DEDICATED 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 sorry that my Penne is pluckt backe from better Occasions, to answere an Opposite so ignoble. But seeing my Reputation is shot at by such a poysoned Pistoll, I thought it meete to serue out the Bal­let of his Infamy with my approued Honesty, before it grew ranke, or festered too farre i [...] the Worlds Apprehension. But to the purpose: Master Taylor, the Gentleman-like Sculler at the Hope on the Banke-side, at a 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 th [...] like before: (which indeed fell out true, to his shame) wherein he would haue me ioyne; hee to play a Sc [...] in Pr [...]se, and I to answere him in Verse: Whereto I condiscended, on these Conditions; viz. That I might haue halfe the Commodity thereof, Or Security for fiue pounds; Or else twenty shillings in hand, and the rest as the Day affoorded. Next, That I might heare his Booke read (which was fit) to know on wh [...] ground I might build my Inuention. And last, That I should see the Manner of his Challenge bes [...] it was published, and set my Answere to it with my owne hand. To all which hee granted, 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) meet him, and with my best endeauour striue to giue the Audience content. Now, here I must en [...]reat you, before you condemne mee, note but the Occasions of my Breach of Promise: This Water-Taylor, with his Confederates, presuming he had bound mee 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, b [...] 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 me and my wife to repayre vnto him with all possible speed. Now, you that are Parents of Children, or [Page 149] children to Parents, Iudge, whether I ought rather to disobay my Father; or displease Iohn Taylor; Pur­ [...]se my Fathers hate, or lose a Scullers loue; and I hope yo [...] will say. I had sufficient cause to keepe mee [...] the Hope. But fearing my homely Truth (though it be sufficient to plead my Honestly) is not answe­r [...] to your expectation of my Practise in Poesie; I will, as neere 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 on 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,
Thy selfe art Author of, New Villanie,
But since thou vrgest me, marke how I'l blase
That name, which thou with villany wouldst gluse:
[...] I will ope the Casement, and cleare Light
Shall chase thy blacke verse to eternall Night.
When the first William, Duke of Normandy,
[...]yl'd from the Coasts of France to Britany,
Amongst his best Rankes came a Chiualiere,
Whose name in French was called le Fognier [...],
Which then our English Tong so well did tender,
[...] him the Name and Title of Defender,
On the Sea-coasts he did defend so well,
That for his Chrest he beares the Scallop shell.
Since, briefer Language giues vs Fennors dame,
Not can thy impudence impaire the same:
And for a Token of wrong'd Innocence,
I doe be resume my first name for Defence.
My Anagram if thou but rightly scan,
Then thou wilt find, 'tis I will feare no man.
How can I then feare thee that art a Taylor;
A [...] of Fustian, and a ragged raylor;
A dish that is 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 ne't so large,
Will sink thy Scullers Boat, though 'twere a Barge.
To halter vp your Muse, my Muse beginnes;
I'l trusse the [...]de for breaking peoples shinnes.
Then Monster doe thy worst, yerke out thy fill,
Thou canst not touch my goodnesse with thy ill:
Though Horse breake their Bridles, and escape,
My Lines shall lo [...]d an Asse, or whippe [...]n Ape.

To his approued Foe Iohn Taylor.

I Haue looke ouer with my best Prospectiues,
And view'd the tenor of thy base Inuectiues:
But if thou knowst 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 pittie thee,
For all the pa [...] thou hast bestow'd on mee;
And were my purse but of abilitie,
I'd recompence thy labours horriblle:
But since my meanes vnable is to right thee,
Marke how my Penne in kindnes shall requite thee.
A will bestow a sheet or two of Paper,
Ind fit 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 Ballad-maker.
But doe not thinke thou dea [...]st with Coriat,
Whose bosome thou didst bolt a Story at;
[Page 150]Nor looke not for such batterie at my walls,
As 'gainst the Knight o'th Sun, or Archibals;
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 inherit.
'Gainst Cynthia, like a Wolfe, thou'lt bark & howle,
Whereby thou shewst thy iudgement dark & foule.
Thou grieu'st, my muse with her reflecting rayes
Hath quite eclipst a famous Scullers praise:
Thou wouldst haue Poesie in none to flourish
But in thy selfe; O thou art too too curtish:
Banish this selfe-conceit; false shadie dreames
Hang in thy heart, and driue thee to extremes.
But why doe I presume to counsell thee,
That hat'st good counsell, as thou hatest me?
Wherefore I leaue thy brazen impudence,
To answer thy Reuenge with my Defence.

Defence.

HOw Rascall-like thou dealst with me at first;
Thou shewst from what antiquitie th'art nurst:
How darst thou of thy Satyre-musicke boast,
That now standst 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 dost thy wickednesse reueale:
But I haue nought to doe with him, or thee;
If thou be his companion, God blesse me.
To crouch, or whyne, thou giu'st me no occassion;
But I must laugh at thy absurd perswasion:
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 Scritch-Owles feathers are too tough;
A Gooses wing for thee is good ynough.
Thou hast emblaz'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 lacke, my selfe, or thee.
Thou call'st me Rogue so artificiall,
That I must iudge thee for one naturall:
The iniurie proceeded from thy tongue,
And yet thou wouldst make me thy cloake for wrong.
But do'st thou thinke the matter is no more,
But hand my selfe? thy counsell I abhore:
And take thou heed of this inchanted spell,
Iohn Tayler ended like Achitophel.
What foolish Asse, like thee, would take in hand
To play a Play, that couldst not vnderstand,
What thine owne folly is, thou art so blind;
Onely to basenesse thou art well inclin'd.
Do'st thinke I had no businesse, but to wait
On thy detested Popperies conceit?
Yet I protest, hadst thou but sent the Bill,
For me to answer, I'd haue shew'd my skill:
Which would haue beene so much to thy disgrace,
That thou againe durst ne'r 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 purchas'd worth,
I scorn'd so send for thee to helpe me forth.
And put the case that I should challenge thee,
Thy rayling spirit could not answer mee:
For thou art nothing without three months fludie;
I'd beat my braines out, if they were so muddie.
Fiue shillings I confesse I had of thee;
Which I protest my seruant had from mee,
For to repay thee: but since he did fayle,
Thou might'st haue sent to me; not write, and ray [...]
On him, that holds his honestie more deere
Then all the Thames reuenewes in a yeere.
But here thou driu'st me to a short demurre,
To know why thou shouldst call a Cristian, 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 lo'e or staine.
I wonder much at thy simplicitie,
That thou shouldst challenge me for sharking thee
When of my troth I had rather giue thee gifts,
Then see thee driuen to such paltrie shifts,
Thou and thy Squire oft haue ferried mee,
More oft then I and mine haue, tim'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 and queanes;
I know not what thou meanst by Doxie Dell,
If seemes with them thou art acquainted well.
For scrappes and broken beere it is so rate
For me to rime, that thou shalt haue my share:
For though much wealth I want to maintaine me,
I'll neuer trouble Whores, nor Rogues, nor thee.
Allow I am squint-eyde, yet with those eyes,
I can thy Baboones trickes anatomize.
But prethee, which of all the Deuils cramb'd
That word of iudgement in thee, Thou art damb'd?
I'd rather wish thee talke of thy saluation,
Left hate should hurtie thee into damnation.
Hadst thou begun with Brothell, then transcended
Vnto a Tauerne, thou my state hadst mended:
But thou dost all thou canst to cut my throat,
And cheat me 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 tossing torments which torment thee,
I'll find a shelter, though it discontent thee.
[Page 151]Why dost thou blame my tongue, 'cause it proclaims
[...] selfe seruant to my Soueraigne Iames?
[...] all hearts & tongues with mine would sing,
[...]eir loyall duty to my Lord the King.
[...] Royall fauour makes thy enuy swell,
Why thy words all may discerne it well.
[...] base comparison I hate and curse,
[...] heauen thy seruice to him proue no worse:
[...] then my Rime shall tell thee this in Reason,
[...] ne'r be hang'd for fellony nor treason.
[...] for the rest, thou poore Beare-garden sport,
[...]rne to tell thee how I liue in Court:
[...] for to certifie thee, thou shalt know it,
[...] hath pleasd the King to call me his Ryming Poet.
[...] though too farre vnworthy, I confesse,
[...] merit it, the Title I possesse:
[...], without boasting, let me boldly say,
[...]ryme with any man that breaths this day,
Vpon subiect in extempore,
Or else be blotted from all memorie,
For any wager dare ingaged be.
Then thinke what cause I had to run from thee?
[...]cept it were, because I would not heare,
How thou absurdly didst abuse each eare.
[...] thou dost taske me with my sawcinesse,
That I my selfe a Poet dare professe:
Wouldst thou haue me rob Nature of her gifts;
Why, that were baser then thy basest shifts:
Yet my esteeme of course extempory,
[...] 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:
[...], 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 poore Spong, thou suckst vp nought but spight,
And dost me open wrong thy faults to right.
What coxcomb-foole would proffer such abuses,
As thou hast done to Poets, and the Muses?
But deare Talia in her ryming fit,
Song, Thou wilt die a foole for want of wit.
Thou faist thy iudgement can compose a verse;
What my opinion's of thee, I'll rehearse,
Thou are 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 doe vaunt,
What Lords & Knights to me their fauors graunt;
It also seemes that thou from mee would'st know,
What Countesses and Ladies count'nance shew.
I'll tell thee plainly; such doe entertaine mee,
That for thy rayling basenesse will disdaine thee.
Had they thy hungry chapps once foddered,
Thou wouldst not title them embrodered.
But, Syrra, though you meddle with your mates,
Thou shouldst learn manners to forbeare the states:
And not to descant vpon Court and King,
'Twere fitter thou shouldst of a Sculler sing.
Presumptuous foole, how dar'st thou be so bold,
To speake of Kings, whom men with feare behold.
You say, you know his royall Maiesty
Will not allow his Court to harbour me:
Nay more, your Scullership doth know right well,
That I no longer in his house shall dwell.
Is then his wisedome think'st thou such meane trea­sure,
That Water-men must know his royall pleasure?
Yet I confesse so farre his will they know,
When he directs them whither they shall goe.
It may bee thou wast put in office lately,
Which makes thee rogue me so, and rayle so stately.
But when thy head peepes through the pillory,
I doubt these termes thy cares must iustifie.
For thy base words are of such hard digestion,
They'l cause some stomack call thy name in questiō,
Thou hopst to see me whipt; stand fast blind Hodge,
For feare thou stumble into th'Porters Lodge:
Raue, rayle, doe what thou canst; I'l neuer cease,
To serue my soueraigne master King of peace.
VVatch till thy eyes fall out; V Vrite, do thy worst;
I haue a Penne and Inkhorne is as curst,
To answere all thy Rayling, Satyrizing,
In three daies, what thou three months art deuising:
And when thy quarter-Cockatrice sees light,
In troth it is not worthy of mans sight.
But I am sorry that thy credit's tainted,
To make thee and thy Chaundler vnacquainted:
VVill he not score no more for Egges and Cheose,
Because he saw thy Hope vpon her knees?
Rather then thou shouldst lay that fault on me,
Come where I dwell, I'l 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 deni'd 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 belly 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 Pouerty?
I wish thee as my friend, ne'r goe about it;
For, as I guesse, th'art poore ynough without it.
I see thou art so bare and desperate,
Thou wouldst turne Hangmanto aduance thy state;
And hang vp me: but (Sculler) I'l o'r-match you,
And stand to see a Hempen halter catch you:
[Page 152]For the old prouerbe neuer failed yet,
Who spreads nets for his friends, snares his owne feet:
But yet I wonder since thou hat'st my life,
Thou shouldst professe such kindnesse to my wife,
If thy hot loue without deceit be seruent,
My kitchin Maide shall take thee for her seruant:
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 Rascals will abuse their wiues.
But now to the disasters of the day,
How thou miscarridst with thy Hopefull play.
Of thy mishaps no long discourse I'll tell,
How thou amongst them mad'st a beastly smell.
Thou dost commend the Players for their action,
But they were all asham'd of thy distraction:
For them, as much as thine, my praise allow,
For none amongst them plaid the foole but thou:
Thou wouldst faine find a fault, yet knowst not where,
When in thy bosome it appeareth cleare.
Thy chiefest rayling and thy strongst euasion,
Is against me, yet thou art the occasion.
Another while thou blam'st the Audience,
When thou wast cause of their impatience:
'The better sort said I was wise enuffe,
To keepe me out of that blacke whirle-wind puffe,
Which almost blew the hangings from the Stage,
Was e'r such folly knowne in any age?
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 plaid the Ape.
But thy Tobacco was such stinking stuffe,
That all the people cry'd, Enough, enough.
Thy third Act shew'd the humors of men frantick,
Wherin, most like an Asse, thou stoodst for Anticke:
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 wouldst thou load my back with all 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;
The house was full, the trumpets twice had sound
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,
I'l touch thee neerer: Hadst thou beene away,
As I was, and my selfe suppli'd the day,
I would haue rows dimy Muse incontinent,
With Mirths best quaint deuise, for their content
And in extempore I would haue gain'd
The fauour of them all, which thee disdain'd,
But thou art hatcht from Saturnes frozen braine,
Poore drowsie groome of sleepy Morpheus traine:
If there be any sparke of Muse in thee,
It is the tayle-gut of Melpomenie,
Which doth instruct thee in thy filthy tearmes;
There's nothing else in thee my Penne affirmes.
Hadst thou done well, the credit had beene 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 Enuy, bursts it selfe to Rayle,
Not publikely, but in a priuate Hole.
Kindle thy Malice at the Diuels coale:
But I with water of true Honestly
Will quench the raging heat of Villany.
How brauely thou canst brag it out, and swagger
And talk of stabbes (God blesse vs) and 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 windy puffes,
And darst encounter boyes at fisticuffes;
But Sirrha, looke to your greene Wastcot well,
For feare the boyes doe teare it off peece mell.
All the kind fauour that I will implore,
Is, that thou wouldst threaten me no more:
And yet, now I remember, 'tis no wrong;
For Threatned folke (the Prouerb sayes) liue long:
But with thy Penne write, and reuenge thy spleene,
I'l 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,
Thus long I haue but spent my Inke in ieast,
But now I'l 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 Rescall Play, and Cheating:
[Page 153] [...] whatsoe'r my birth or breeding bee,
[...] I liue to tosse and torture thee,
[...] thee like Stock-fish, gill thee like a Sprat,
[...] thee i [...]h Towne-ditch, like a Water-Rat,
[...]le ligges and Ballads of thy apish toyes,
[...] to be sung by thred-bare Fidlers boyes:
[...] to doe this, I shall but proue a babie,
[...] hast disgrac'd thy selfe as much as may be.
[...] Barabus of all humanitie,
[...] slanderer of Christianitie,
[...] [...]now that I am a Christian, and am borne
[...] etter then [...]hy best Kindred, I'l be sworne:
[...]ow thy owne tongue thy breeding doth display,
[...] Pedlers French, and Canting, Curds and Whay;
[...] I'l approue it to thy foule disgrace,
[...] sprung from basenesse; I, from Gentries race,
[...] which to make good, my Parents yet doe liue,
[...] each day at their Table, food doe giue
[...] better men then thou, mishapen slaue:
[...] bea [...]e thy slanders with thee to thy graue.
[...] at Grausend rim'd for fourteene pence,
[...] pence thou hast row'd that voyage since:
[...] it were no more, I b [...]r't away
[...] [...], then thou didst thy Play.
[...]hy enuie is not worth the speaking of;
The more thou rail'st at me, the more I laugh:
[...] some to begge (as thou dost) Poets phrases,
To raise my name; let merit sing my praises:
[...] were the meaner then thy owne desert,
They were the worse where thou shouldst sing a part:
Thou dost but thinke there's nothing good in me,
[...] I am sure there is much lesse in thee.
That [...] thou bear'st me, prethee beare me still,
[...] good with enuie all thy veines shall fill,
[...] they swell and burst thy angry gall:
Then if [...]rue, 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 lin'd; would rayle and raue,
Borrow his wit from others worth,
And in his owne name [...] [...]t forth:
He row'd 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'd full merrily,
And not haue di'd so lowsily.
O, 'twas that foolish scuruie Play
[...]t Hope, that tooke his sence away:
[...]et he to blot out all his shame,
[...] the fault on Fennor [...]s name;
And rayl'd at him like a mad bodie,
Liu'd a bare Foole, di'd a base Noddie.
But if you'l 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'd a Knaue in graine.
Thus Iack thou feest what friendship I would doe,
Garnish thy Graue out with a verse or two;
But yet thou art aliue, and I surmise,
Thou wilt not dye till Crowes peck out thy eyes.
I'd wish thee sayle vnto some forraine Places,
Where they haue neuer heard of thy disgraces:
The Baramoodes Tongue thou dost professe,
The name of Poet there thou may'st possesse:
There spread thy Pamphlets, make them vnderstand
Thou art the chiefest Poet in that Land.
Thou say'st my pate a mint of lyes can forge,
Indeed t'hast wit ynough thy lyes to scourge:
For I was neither rid South, North, nor East,
But into Warwick-shire, direct North-west:
Nor did I thither ride, to shun 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:
But he that told thee I was gone in't Kent,
Spoke halfe as true as thou dost, lies inuent.
But see how enuie in thy heart doth trot,
Thou grieuest 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, spigh; of thee, thou Canniball to man,
I will not cease to doe what good I can:
Nor doe I looke for Siluer for my meed,
When poore men want, if I can helpe their need:
For though thou rayld'st on me at the Beare garden,
Rather then see thee hang'd, I'd beg thy pardon:
Although it cost me more the suing forth,
In ready money then thy Boat is worth
So much tender man, though bred by Nature,
As being image of his high Creator:
But thou that of mans li [...]e art no esteemer,
What mercy canst thou hope from thy Redeemer.
Say I had wrong'd thee, thou good-names betrayer,
Thou call'st for vengeance in toy Sauiours prayer:
I will not say so, but it doth appeare,
Thou scarce dost say thy prayers once a yeere.
Thou must forgiue, if thou wouldst be forgiuen;
For if thou fear'st not hell, ne'r hope for heauen.
Thou dost cause the King as well [...]or Graunts,
As men for Sutes: but leaue these bitter taunts,
And learne intime, blacke tayle of insolence,
To arme thy heart with Christian patience.
[Page 154]Thus haue I answer'd 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 I'l 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 Armer 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 o't his head:
And on his Shield this Motto shall be found,
Taylor the Sculler was both hang'd and drown'd.
In all this blazing thee, no hurt I meane,
But hang thee till the Tide hath wash: thee cleaner:
And when the billowes o'r thy head are flowing,
And AEolus 'gainst Neptunes brow is blowing,
And Oares and Sculls aboue thy crosse-barre failing,
There is great hope thou wilt forget thy rayling.
Thus haue I answer'd thee in three dayes space,
And yet my Pen ranne but an ambling pace:
Thus much I mildly write, in hope 'twill mend thee;
If not, the Thames or Wapping shore will end thee.
And last, to shew what course I would direct thee,
Vse honesty, from Tiburne to protect thee.
Thi [...]e more then thou desirest, Will. Fennor, his Maiesties Ri [...]g Poet.

To my kinde Friends in generall.

NOw you haue read, and vnderstand my minde,
I hope your wonted fauors I shall finde,
In spight of rayling basenesse, whose lowd tongues,
Are Sa [...]hans instruments for stand'rous wrongs.
Sure I haue satisfi'd your expectation,
And vsde the Sculler in his owne vocation:
But if you thinke my answer ouer-milde,
Know this, I would not haue my tongue defilde,
With such vnciuill tearmes, much lesse my pen,
Which now giues satisfaction to all men.
Of truth; I will auouch, in spight of ill,
My answer 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 pen hath follow'd him space:
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 voyce to rore:
Yet for your loues, I'l 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 honer,
And in Cods bellies transport Slanders ouer,
And without Licence helcheth them abroad,
'T were fit she should be seartcht to see her Load:
For in her head, her bellie, and her crookes,
I doubt there wil be found some dang'rous Bookes
For he that vndertooke this Worke for thee,
Perhaps prints Romish Doctrine for a fee;
Or matters prei [...]diciall 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 Country all my loue and skill,
To root out all such instruments of ill.
FINIS.

A CAST OVER THE VVATER, BY IOHN TAYLOR. Giuen Gratis to WILLIAM FENNOR, the Rimer, From London to the Kings Bench.

DEDICATED To all that vnderstand English. By your leaue a little in Prose, and to the purpose.

GEntlemen, I pray you take me not for a common Ferriman to Conicatchers: I transport this fellow this once, not out of confederacy, but out of commisera­tion. For I confesse ingenuously, at first sight of his pittifull Preface, he turn'd all my malice into compassion. For I had thought, hauing giuen himselfe the Title of his Maiesties Poet, and by his owne confession poore enough to be one, that necessity (at least) would haue begot that which a beggar cals Phrase [...]him. Whereas this Cadworme, hauing onely got Rime, which is but the buttons and [...] to couple Verse together; or as the wings of a Butter-flye now turn'd out of his Sum­ [...] weeds, hee appeares to be the same which I euer held him to be; A most naked and [...]ched Mungrell, not able to pen a letter in true English, though it were to borrow mo­ [...]. But you will say, it was the badnesse of the matter, & being the absolute & only profest ly­ [...] of our age, it behou'd him to build vpon his memory, which Artists say, is an enemy to wit: [...] hereon his memory is so short, that as we speake of the Italians, they tell lyes so long till [...] beleeue themselues for truths; so this Hydra-tong'd Proteus-prater in his owne and [...] selfe same pestiferous Preface auer's, and confutes, and then auer's againe the same con­tradictions which he denies, that he was tyed to performe the Challenge at the Hope: Yet [...], he confesses he sent his man backe with the earnest, which he sayes was fiue shillings; say ten but we will not contend for the summe, had it beene ten pounds hee'll as soone pay as fiue shillings. Did I giue him fiue shillings earnest? then no question but it was to tye him [...] bargaine, was the money certaine, and the conditions at his owne choice? Indeed, he [...]es to haue money for a Song, but I haue more wit then to be one of his Patrons. But his [...] plaid the knaue (as how could he doe other, hauing such a Master) and ran away with [...] money; was euer poore Rat driuen to more extremity to free her selfe from the trap by [...]ning off his owne taile, is Monsieur le Foggnieurs seruice so cheape, that it will be sold for five shillings. He will say his Annagram is, I will feare no man. It is a deere Anagram Monsi­ [...] [...], it cost you fiue shillings: For had you fear'd your Man, you would neuer haue trusted him: but you may see the scald Squire will haue his Iade, though it be but a scabbed one; [...]his Man hath beene found in three or foure tales about the vnfortunate fiue shillings. First, [Page 156] he confest that hee paid it to a Broker for the loane of a Cloake for his Master to goe twi [...] to the Court in: Secondly, that he paid it for the hyre of two Shirts for his Master, which he had to ride into the Country withall: Thirdly, that hee gaue it to a Punke for her diui­dend, which Punke was to haue a share in their Riming and whistling, and they were to sha [...] with her in her commings in: Fourthly, that he paid it to a Broome-man, for foure paire [...] Bootes for his Master, at fifteene pence a paire. Was euer Poore crowne so martyr'd and qua [...] ­ter'd, amongst Brokers, Knaues, and Whores? But were this all the dust that stucke on [...] Coate, his man might beat it out of it; you shall finde he hath a Father to father his ly [...] on, which Sire of his (as hee saith, sent for him into the Country) I say twas the Thiefe who [...] pardon he was to get. Now sayes hee, whether should I obey my parents, or Iohn Taylor Surely thy Father, Mounsieur, for he hath much need of a sonne that will Father thee. Nay [...] such a father that gaue him a hundred pound at parting, (I hold my life he meant with a [...]pu [...] for a parting blow.) This lye, a man would thinke, carries some colour with it, did not th [...] witlesse Asse himselfe discouer it to bee but a Vizard. For a little before, he writes, Might he [...] haue had fiue pound, he would haue staid his iourney. Doth not Esops pluck'd Crow looke like a Rooke now? Vngracious Child, wouldst thou preferre fiue pound to thy fathers bles­sing? came the hundred pound so vnlook'd for, that the hope of it was not worth fiue Surely Gentlemen, (I hope) to auoid this tax, hee will in his next edition confesse himselfe the child of the people: and the hundred pound was one of his poeticall fictions, for as yet one penny of it was neuer extant. And beleeue it, his faith, his father, and the money are alo [...] Implicite, neuer made manifest.

Imagine, his Father had beene able to giue him 100. pounds, would hee haue bound hi [...] Prentice to a blinde Harper, whose boy he cannot deny but he was, whom the hungry saw [...] scroyle almost famisht with beguiling him of his victuals? so that the poore musician was faine to shift him off, for his guts were clung in his belly, and Fennor meant to make Ha [...] strings of them. But thinke you if his Father had beene of that worth, that he would haue suf­fered him to runne ouer the earth like one of Caines Imps, that had a Plough tayle of his own to tye him to? But you will obiect a reconcilement vpon better fortunes, he is now married and hath a stayd head. He hath call'd the King master, and the blacke Guard fellowes: heo­nors change manners, I confesse, and that he is adorn'd, I will not deny; the hundred pound well laid out, shall speake his Fathers bounty. At thy return, Mounsier Le Fognier, what became of the mony? didst thou pay the Hackney man for horse-hire? hee pleads not guilty, because h [...] receiued no gilt? thou hast but one only part of a Gentleman in thee, and that is, thou wilt p [...] no debts: didst thou buy houshold stuffe? Let the Thiefe speake, who is most familiarly gu [...] vnder colour of a pardon: but thou holdst it lawfull to punish Sinners. Didst thou buy appare [...] with it? No verily, he pawn [...]d his Cloake the next morning of his returne. Oh inuisible summ [...] what is become of thee? This was a hidden blessing, whose effects are not yet to be seene. T [...] one of Erra Paters predictions, tis intailed vpon his Issue. But to conclude, if it were lawfull for me to examine thee at Staffords Law, I would make thee confesse the receit of ten shil­lings, the acknowledgement of my bill, the acceptance of thy answere, and thy word and pro­mise for thy meeting me, and that I neuer receiued mony or message to the contrary. A [...] which thou didst confesse to me before fiue Witnesses since thy booke was written, when th [...] paidst me my Mony: and this and more I could make thee say and sweare, or else I would beat thee to mash, and make a Gally-mawfry for Dogges of thee. But I think it time to lea [...] Prose, and fall into Verse, for the satisfaction of the Reader, thy shame, and my Fame.

IOHN TAYLOR
He giues himselfe an honest good report,
And to himselfe he is beholden for't:
Tet 'twixt the greatest knaue and him, I weene,
Ther's thus much ods, A pair of sheers betweene

Master PENNORS taking Boate.

COme fellow Bull-beefe, quicke, thrust in the boat,
Here comes a braue fare in a horsemans coat;
[...]d in man: Sir, lend me your worships hand.
[...] the [...]eed, t'hath rain'd, 'tis slippery Sir to stand.
[...] sit you downe, we haue the winde and tide,
[...] sir, a little on the Star-boord side.
[...] off now: I am glad I haue you here,
[...] Master Fennor (ali [...]s) Le Fognier:
[...] [...] are a fare falne to my lot diuinely,
[...] you my Boat, and I will trim you finely:
[...] as I Row, Ile tell you whom I am;
[...] Iohn Taylor, made your Annagram.

In defence of the true Annagram I made of William Fennor. Nv Villany for mee.

THat I thy Annagram did truely finish,
No letter did I adde, or none diminish:
[...] which Nu Villany for me's the same,
[...] Annagram of William Fennors name.
[...] think'st to make thy Reputation stretch,
[...] out of Normandy thy name wilt fetch:
[...] [...] men may see thy folly plaine appeare,
[...] wilt (forsooth) be called Le Fognier.
[...] Fognier, out alas thy wits are fogg'd;
[...] but laugh to see thee mir'd and bogg'd,
[...] holla, holla, hobby, hold my fist,
[...] thee out of this blacke foggy mist.
Le Foggnier.
Annagramma.
Flieng Roge.
HOw lik'st thou this braue Annagram, 'tis true,
[...] And euery letter in his place, is due:
[...] for thy further grace shal't haue another,
[...] hardly do so much for mine owne Brother.
Le Foggnier.
Annagramma.
Forge Lieng.
[...] how I haue help'd thee at a pinch,
And Annagramatiz'd thee to an inch:
The sunshine of my Muse the Fog hath broke,
And clear'd thy Name from out the misty smoake.
Thou shew'st thy plenteous beggery of wir,
That mak'st thy Annagram so much vnfit;
Thy Name's but thirteene letters (as I weene)
And in thy Annagram thou hast fifteene.
Then William Fennor's Annagram's not such,
I will feare no man, 'sE and A to much:
I guesse (at first) thy Ancestors did keepe
Within some fenny ground, Hoge, Kine, or sheep;
And liuing Hogheards, or poore labring men,
They tooke their Names of Fennor; from the Fen.
And now to write a iest, my Muse doth smile,
I thinke thou wast begotten on a stile:
Thy father looking one way, and thy mother,
For feare of being spide, she look'd another;
And leering sundry waies, kept carefull watch,
Lest any at their businesse should them catch.
And that's the reason why thine eies doe rowle,
And squint so in thy, doltish iobbernowle.
I cry thee mercy, in my other booke,
Thy Coat of Armes I very much mistooke.
As from the Fen at first thou didst suruiue,
Thy Scutchion from the Fen I will deriue.
Marke how I will emblaze thee, I'lbe briefe,
Within a Quagmire-field, two Toades in Chiefe,
[...] A Lope. staffe for the Bend, I hold it best,
A paire of Oxe hornes Rampant, for the Crest,
Well Mantled with an old Raw tough Cow-hide,
Thus I my armes diuide, and subdiuide.
For calling me a Taylor and a shred,
A dish not worthy whereon to be fed;
Could I but Cut, and sow, and steale and stitch
As well as thou canst lye, I would be rich.
The Time hath bin a Poor- Iohn's scraps would fill
The hungr [...] Maw of thredbare Lowzy Will.
Thou hast forgot thou rim'st to me of late
For sixteene Oysters once at Billingsgate,
Thou hast forgot I gaue thee my old breeches,
Because thou sung'st & spok'st extrump'ry speeches
When barly bread and Lamp oyle thou didst eate,
A Poor- Iohn then with thee had bin good meat.

Vpon his false Annagram on my name.

ARt not asham'd to be so false in print,
Thy Muse is like thine Eyes (sure) all a squint,
The world may see my name no [...] affords,
And thou hast thrust in two, to make vp words;
[Page 158] O hate rayle on, and then rayle on O hate,
Thy wit, I see, is in a desp'rate state,
Else thou wouldst neuer (vnto all mens view)
Declare thy folly, printing things vntrue;
For thine owne sake let Annagrams aloue,
Thou canst not make a true one, then make none.

To him I hold too vnworthy to be my foe: William Fenner.

THou hast look't ouer, I perceiue and seene,
Th'inuectiue Scourge of my reuenging spleene,
And wisely (as thou dem'st) thou weighest it lightly,
Thou Gracelesse, disgrace thou esteemest slightly:
There's not a bad word in it that is writ,
But well thou knowst thou hast deserued it;
And if I thought I ow'd thee any more,
I would rayle on, till I had paid the score:
For though my iust incensed anger sleepe,
Yet doe I keepe my Satyres whip in weepe,
In salt and brine, that to the quicke shall scourge
Thee, or who dares my angry Muse to vrge.
And by your leaue Sir, I'l a little [...]irke yee,
And with a milder lash I'l gently ierke yee.
I will not rayle, or rogue thee, or be [...]slaue thee,
But I will finely baffle, beard, and braue thee:
I'l squeeze, & crush, and vnto poulder pounce thee,
I'l make thy wits for euer to renounce thee.
I'l lay thee open, and I will attaint thee,
And for a pittifull poore scab I'l paint thee.
I'l nip, and strip, and whip thee out of breath,
Like Bubenax, I'l rime thee vnto death.
Thou sayst my verse is impotent and hault,
Thou dost accuse me for thy onely fault;
Alack in Rime thou canst doe naught but cobble,
Thy cripled Verses vp and downe doe hobble.
And doe so lamely runne, and rise, and fall,
Like maimed Beggers in an Hospitall.
Thou hast no iudging, vnderstanding eare,
Thy Accents and thy Sillables to reare
Or let them fall: thou botchest many a line,
That I would shame to father such for mine.
When a tressillable a verse doth end,
'Tis harsh, 'tis palty, and it doth offend;
In a translation I with it would beare,
But in Inuention it offends the eare:
Thou often end'st thy lines with Memory,
And then thou answer'st that with Pillory,
And then thou comst vpon me Horribly,
And in conclusion writ'st solowsily,
That when thou gett'st'a Poets dignity,
I'l hang thee of mine owne benignity.
Ther's many a fault thou mak'st which I wold show
But that I feare 'twould make thee halfe a Poet,
And well I know thou wouldst vnthankfull be,
And wouldst deny thou learndst thy skill of me [...].
I'l therefore leaue thee as a plague to time,
A selfe-conceited witlesse Asse in Rime.
I know thy ouer-daring minde doth dare
With me and my inuention to compare,
Indeed (by fortune) I some things haue done,
Which many sayes from better wits did run.
But let their enuious misconceit belye me,
Nor thee, or they, or any dares to try me.
But to the purpose, dar'st thou thus much doe,
Let one man giue one Theame betwixt vs two,
And on that Theame let both of vs goe write,
And he that best and soonest doth indite,
Giue him the praise; and he that is out-strip'd
(For his reward) let him be soundly whip'd,
To this I dare thee, thou poore Poet Ape
And I'l behang'd if thou a whipping scape.
Thy Muse (or Mule) can frame some Riming not [...]
To borrow shillings, six-pences or Groates
Of Vintners boyes, and that's the highest straine
Thy borrowed stolne inuention can attaine.
For thine owne credit some rare worke deuise,
Turne into Verse the Chimney-sweepers cries,
Or worke for Tinker, Couers for close stooles,
Then shalt thou be disputed on in Schooles,
And held a braue man, and thy famous Verse
About the Towne thy Patrons will rehearse.
Besides, I wish thee beg the Monopolly,
That to thy selfe thou maist ingrose it wholly,
That none but thee may write the Elegies,
And Epitaphs of Tiburne Tragedies.
And so the Hangmans Poet thou shalt be,
And sometimes haue as good a Fee as he:
No course to thriue is to be counted base,
And I'l speake for thee thou maist haue the place.
I muse how Ladies dares to heare thy stile,
'Tis so abominable harsh and vile,
How canst thou from them any fauour win,
Me thinkes thy Rimes should fret their tender ski [...]
For 'tis more rougher then a Russian Beare,
And rubs and frets, and gaules each gentle eare.
Thou art the rarest fellow aboue ground,
To serue some Costiue Lord, that is hard bound,
Thy riming would procure an easie stoole,
That seruice hath some sauour, Goodman foole.
The Doctors and Apothecaries swears,
How they will lugge thee by the Asses cares,
Because thy riming now doth purge men more,
Then all their Art in many yeeres before.
Thou nam'st here, for a rabblement of fooles,
Tom Coriat, Archy, and the great Otooles.
Asse for thy selfe, a foole I ne'r did take thee,
Dame Nature at the first (I thinke) did make the [...],
One compound of two simples, Foole and Knaue,
Who striuing in thee which should maistry haue
[Page 159]The crafty knauish part got all the sway,
And turn'd the silly harmelesse Foole away,
And in thy making Natures care was chiefe,
To fashion thee on purpose for a Thiefe;
[...]ee turn'd thine eyes keele vpwards, for the nonce,
That thou might'st see fiue or six waies at once.
For why, thou hast an admirable looke,
T [...]forme a Thiefe, from windowes how to hooke
Apparell, Cushions, Carpet, Rugge, or Sheete,
That they withall by hooke, or crooke, can meete.
I doe not say thou dost this trading vse;
[...] therein thou they making dost abuse,
Is that thou closely follow'st not the trade,
For which thee & thy thiefe-like eyes were made.
When as a great mans house, men flocke about thee,
Tis not to heare thee time, but cause they doubt thee,
And therefore euery one keeps carefull watch
For feare thou should'st the plate, or sōwhat catch:
Thou think'st they do applaud when thou hast rim'd,
And they are fearefull that thy fists are lim'd.
The Butlers sweat for feare, whil'st thou dost prate,
And double diligently guard their plate.
Thy beautious Phisnomy doth this, for which
Most women feare thee, that thou art a Witch,
And therefore snatch their children vp, and run,
Toy ominous ill-looking looke to shun.
For if before a Iudge, thou euer speake,
Thy very countenance thy neck will breake.
More I could say, and more I could deuise,
But that I thinke I should rime out thine eyes:
It all trades faile, I'd haue thee pull them out,
And I'll procure thee liuing doe not doubt,
[...] thy nose will put an Iron ring,
And lead thee vp and downe the Towne to sing,
To Feasts, and Markets, Wakes, & Sturbridge faire,
And then to euery place with me repaire,
I would aduance a faire ingrossed bill,
That in these words should promise wondrous skill.
Then I, or else my Boy, will beat a Drum,
If any be desirous for to come,
At two a clocke within the after noone,
There shall you see an old blind braue Baboone,
That can put on the humor of an Asse,
Can come aloft Iack, heigh passe and repasse;
That for ingenuous study downe can put,
Old Holdens Camell, or fine Bankes his Cut,
And for his action he eclipseth quite,
The [...]igge of Garlick, or the Punks delight.
King Ninus motion, or the great tall Dutch-man,
O [...]th'Elke, or man-Beare baiting was no such man.
To all your costs he will his wis wits imploy,
To play the second part of Englands Ioy.
Hee' rime, and sing well, and if need require,
Cantell more lies then you would all desire.
Our Lady Fayre, nor yet Saint Bartholomew,
A motion like to this did neuer shew.
These things I hope for to employ thee in,
By which wee needs must store of money win.
I neither hate good counsell, or yet thee,
But why shouldst thou presume to counsell me.
I prethee then leaue off thy fruitlesse taske,
No godnesse comes from such a mustie Caske.

My Defence against thy Offence.

HOw proudly thou thy Ancestors dost praise,
Aboue the Pleyades, their Fame to raise:
Was euer seene so vile a paltry Nag,
So much of his Antiquity to brag.
As if his Grandam had some Burgesse beene,
In Parlament vnto the Diamond Queene:
If I should answer all thy base contention,
I then should haue no roome for my inuention:
And therefore famous Monsier Le Foggnier.
I will but only nip thee here and there:
According as I see the time and place,
I will my byting phrases enterlace.
And first ( Don Bussard) vnto you 'tis knowne,
The writing of my play was all mine owne:
And though thou tearm'st it fopp'ry, like a [...]op,
Into the Hangmans Budget thou wilt drop,
Before thy muddie Muse (Dame ignorance)
On a conceit so good, as it shall glance.
Thou brag'st what fame thou got'st vpon the stage,
Indeed, thou set'st the people in a rage,
In playing Englands Ioy, that euery man
Did iudge it worse then that was done at Swan.
I neuer saw poore fellow so behist,
T'applaud thee, few or none lent halfe a fist:
Some stinkards hands, perhaps went pit to pat,
Who ignorantly lik'd they knew not what;
Besides, thou knowst, thou promist in thy Bill,
In rare extempory to shew thy skill.
When all thou spok'st, thou studiedst had before,
Thou know'st I know, aboue a month and more.
Besides, the best conceits that were in it,
(Poore Foole) thou had'st them from a better wir,
Then is thine owne, thy beggerly conceit
Could ne'r haue mounted to so high a height.
Good wine is spild, in stinking vessels leaking,
And so good words were mar'd with thy ill spea­king:
Where like a Scar-crow) or a Iack of lent
Thou stoodst, and gau'st the people small content:
And yet thy impudence wouldst raise thy fame,
From out the loathsome Garbage of thy shame.
Thy little honesty so high thou deem'st,
And more then Thames reuennew it esteem'st:
Make much on't, thou art worthy to haue more,
Thou mak'st such reck'ning of so little store.
[Page 160]Thy honesty is bred within the bone,
Out of the flesh, I thinke came neuer none:
Thou sai'st I call'd a Christian, Cur, O fie!
'Will Fennor, wilt thou neuer leaue to lye?
'T was thee I call'd so, ponder well vpon't,
For I thinke thou wast neuer at a Font;
I wish thee yet thy Baptisme to procure,
Thou canst not be an Anabaptist sure:
If I should answer euery lye and line,
My booke would then be bigger far, then thine.
Besides, it with my mind doth not agree,
To paraphrase on thy poore stuffe and thee.
Thou put'st one trick vpon me, and a rare one,
Thou'lt make me vnder Sculler vnto Charon;
When thou com'st to the Deuill on a message,
Then I'l take nothing of thee for thy passage:
And for my loue (then thine) shall not be shorter,
Thou shalt be Plutees vgly vnder Porter.
For Cerberus and thee must needs agree,
Thy one good face, accommodates his three.
Thou bid'st me watch and write, and doe my worst,
And sai'st, thy Pen and Inkehorne is as curst.
I thinke 'tis curst indeed, for I protest,
That neither thee, or them, was neuer blest:
Perhaps thou hast good Paper, Pens and Inke,
But thy inuention ( Fogh) how it doth stinke.
Thou bid'st me fall vnto my Scull againe,
And hold'st my calling in thy high disdaine.
Know Peasant, if I were a Baron borne,
Yet I my honest trade would neuer scorne:
A Water-man doth get his bread more true,
Then fifty thousand idle Knaues, like you;
They cannot rime, and cony-catch, and cheat,
For what they haue, they must be sure to sweat.
And I esteeme my labour far more deare,
Then all thy riming's worth in twenty yeere:
I'l carry Whores and Knaues too, for my fee;
For money, I'l transport thy wife and thee:
I'l carry any body for my fare,
Wee haue no power to question what they are.
My Boat is like vnto a Barbers Chaire,
To which both honest men, and Knaues repaire:
No Trades-men, whatsoeuer that they be,
Can get their lining honester then we.
We labour truly, and we take great paine,
With hands and feet, we stretch out euery vaine:
Thy hands did neuer worke, thou art so nice [...]
Except 'twere in thy Doublet cracking li [...].
And not to brag, but to our trades great fame,
The learned Sapho, that admired Dame,
Who could the Saphicke Verse so rarely write,
Did wed a Water-man, who Ph [...] hight:
Besides, eight Kings, in famous Edgars raigne,
To row with Oares did hold it no disdaine:
But as Records and Chronicles relate,
They row'd vnto the Parlament in State.
Thou maist infer these Kings, were captiues all:
Why? are not all men so by Adams fall.
Nay more, when water the first world did end,
The second world did presently descend,
From the High Admirall of Heau'n and Earth,
The Patriarke Noah, we had second birth:
He ferri'd mankind to this worlds Lee shore,
From the bar'd-hauen of the world, before
Such Landsharkes as thy selfe, their way did take,
Downe through the Deluge to Cocstus Lake,
Where all the comfort the poore Caitiffes found,
Was this, that all the Gallowses were drown'd:
No Authors write, no not the Poets tales,
That they lou'd Cheatry, Porposes, or Whales.
One note this History doth more afford,
That all were damb'd that scorn'd to lie aboord,
No part of this world we inherit can,
But by our Title from a Waterman.
Then wrong not vs with thy calumnious tongue,
For from a Waterman we all are Sprung:
From Iaphets Ioynes I well descended am,
And thou (my cursed Couzin) cam'st from Cham,
Besides thus much, thy Ignorance may note,
That all the world may well be cal'd a Boat,
Tost on the troublous waues of discontent,
All subiect vnto change, vnpermanent.
Our life's the tide, which euer ebbes and flowes,
And to their iournies end all Creatures rowes:
The Souldier with his sword rowes vp and down,
And floats in bloud sometimes to gaine a Crown.
The Lawyer rowes, and makes his tongue his oare,
And sometimes sets his Clyent poore ashoare.
But the Deuine (of all men) he rowes best,
He brings vs safely to the Port of rest:
He lands vs at our euerlasting Inne,
And the tenth penny for his paines doth winne.
Thus Fenner thou mai'st see, that Watermen
Are farre beyond the limits of thy Pen
To doe them wrong; I could speake more of this,
But that I thinke enough sufficient is.
Thou sai'st that Poetry descended is
From pouertie, thou tak'st thy markes a misse.
In spight of weale or woe, or want of pelse,
It is a Kingdom of content it selfe.
A Poet's here or there, or where he please,
In Heau'n, in Ayre, in Earth, in Hell, or Seas,
Gods, men, fish, fowle, beasts, and infernall fiends,
All tributary homage to him sends;
They're called makers, for they'l vndertake
By Art, of nothing something for to make,
And though in making, little skill I haue,
Yet could I easily make thee a Knaue.
But there in I should be but thy partaker,
A Knaue thou art, and so art thine owne maker.
In which thou dost most makers much excell,
For hauing made thy selfe so ill, so well.
[Page 161]And now at thee, once more I'l haue a fling,
Thou faist thou hadst thy title from the King
Of rising Poet: I beleene it true.
What name would best befit thee, well he knew,
He call'd thee not a Poet, for deuisin
Or that thou couldst make ought worth memori­zing,
He call'd thee riming Poet, note why 'twas,
And I will shew thy picture in a Glasse:
He gaue thy Poetry not Reasons Name;
[...]r Rime, for he knew well his words to frame.
Now what a Rimer is, vnto a Poet,
Because thou knowst it not, I'l make thee know it:
Th'are like Bell-ringers to Musicians,
Or base Quack-saluers to Phisicians;
Or as a Za [...]y to a Tumbler is,
A Rimer's to a Poet such as this;
And such art thou, or in a worse degree:
For if a poet should examine thee
Of Numbers, Figures, Trimeters, Alchaicks,
[...] meters, Pentameters, Trochaicks,
[...]bicks, Allegorios, and Allusions;
With Tropes, Similitudes, Types and Conclusions:
And whosoeuer chanceth but to looke
[...] [...] or th' Arcadi (well writ Booke)
[...]all find these Rules which I before haue nam'd,
Which makes a Poets Art for euer fam'd:
And in these things, thy knowledge is no more
Then hath an Asse, a Horse, a Beare, or Bore.
[...]hou art the Rump, the taile, or basest part
Of Poetry thou art the dung of Art.
Thou art all Rime, and voyd of reason, thou
[...]oft doze and shut vp lines, no matter how.
Some men will say, I must a Scholler be,
[...] these words could neuer come from me:
To them I answer; I can English read,
But further I could neuer write or plead:
Those words of Art, I know them euery one,
[...]nd knowing them, I'l let them all alone;
Because I doe not know well how to vse them,
And by misplacing them, I may abuse them.
When I a learned word in Verse doe plant,
[...] will be sure to write significant.
[...]o much to them, whose hearts will not beleeue
[...]t that in Poetry I [...] and theeue.
[...] dare them all to try me, and lea [...] threatning,
The proofe of pudding's alwaies in the eating:
Th [...] I haue told thee, why, wherefore, and how
[...] Maiesty did thee that name allow;
The name of Rimer carry to thy graue,
[...]ile of Poet, thou shalt neuer haue.
[...]ch well in Turn-bull street, or in Pickt-hatch,
[...]ere Shorditch, or Long, alloy prethee watch,
And mongst the trading females, chuse out nine
To be thy [...] they will sit thee fine,
Thy [...] make thy rimes and thee of more account,
And mount thy same aboue Parnassus Mount:
Thou writst a hotch-potch of some forty lines
About my Play at Hope, and my designes;
Where men may see thy stocke of wit is poore,
To write of that which I had writ before.
Thou fill'st thy Booke with my inuention full,
And shew'st thy selfe an idle shallow Gull:
And then thou talk'st & prat'st, and keep'st a Rut,
And tearm'st my Muse Melpomenes Tayle Gut;
I wonder where thou didst that phrase procure,
Thou art beholden to some Tripe-wife sure.
When hunger doth prouoke thee rime and sing,
That Gut will make thy Muse a Chitterling:
For thou from tripes, and tayl-guts, & hogs mawes,
Hast won thy greatest credit and applause,
There's none that eats a Partridge or a Pheasant,
But takes thee for a soole to make them pleasant,
I know not if thy wife be he or shee,
If she be honest, shee's too good for thee.
Thou partly offrest me to hold the dore,
If I will make thy Kitchin-maid my whore:
But prethee hold thy prating, witlesse Gander,
Shalt ne'r haue honor to become my Pander.
Thou saist, I raile, 'tis true, I had decreed
To giue my wronged Muse a purge with speed,
And (as the fittest vessell) 'twas thy lot,
To be her foule vnworthy Chamber-pot:
Shee's well recouer'd, and the world doth see
Her filthy excrements remaine in thee.
No blacke contagious mist her pure light suffers,
But strait she makes of thee a paire of Snuffers,
To make her glorious greatnesse shine more cleere,
And this shall be your office Le Fognicre.
And now a thought into my mind doth creepe,
How thou a Kitchin or a Maid canst keepe:
I know the time thou wouldst haue lick'd thy chaps
From out an Almes-basket to get some scraps,
And hast thou now a Kitchin and large roomes,
To entritaine faire Lasses, and braue Groomes?
I see thou art the frugal'st Lad aliue,
And car'st not greatly what thou dost to thriue.
I wrongly call'd thy Kitchin-seruant, maid;
No maid can dwell with thee, I am afraid:
And now a pretty tale I meane to tell;
Marke it, I pr [...]thee, for it fits thee well.
There was a fellow once some faults had done,
Which fearing hanging did his Country run,
And comming to the City, full of feare,
(Nay note my tale, good Mounsier Le Fognier)
In hope to get his pardon, 'twas his chance
Vpon a man, (as might be thee) to glance,
The poore distressed fellow told his mind,
And said, If any man would be so kind
To get his pardon, and to set him f [...]re,
He should haue threescore angels for his Fee:
Now he that this mans pardon should procure,
(To saue his owne stake, and to make all sure)
[Page 162]He leaues the Thiefe in London, and strait went
And brought a Hoy full of his goods from Kent,
Then out of hand, this man like thee, call'd Momus
Did hire a goodly building called Donius,
Which this thiefs houshold-stuffe did furnish well,
And there this Gentleman (like thee) doth dwell.
Now to proceed, the poore vnhappy thiefe
Is ready still to hang himselfe with griefe:
For he is cheated of his goods, I wot,
And knowes [...] [...]t when his pardon will be got.
And 'tis much fear'd, the Cheater his owne selfe,
Will worke some meanes to hang him for his pelfe.
How lik'st thou this, i'st not a pretty trick?
But wherefore dost thou chafe, and spurn and kick:
A guilty conscience feeles continuall scare,
And this discourse doth seem to touch thee neare:
Nay, then I will relate another thing,
Which I suppose will make you wince and fling.
Vpon S. Georges day last, Sir, you gaue,
To eight Knights of the Garter (like a Knaue)
Eight Manuscripts (or Bookes) all fairely writ,
Informing them they were your Mother wit,
And you compild them; then were you regarded,
And for anothers wit was well rewarded.
All this is true, and this I dare maintaine,
The matter came from out a learned braine:
And poore old Vennor, that plaine dealing man,
Who acted Englands Ioy first at the Swan,
Paid eight crownes for the writing of these things,
Besides the couers, and the silken strings:
Which money backe he neuer yet receiu'd,
So the deceiuer is by thee deceiu'd.
First, by those Bookes thou stol'st a good report,
And wast accounted a rare man in Court:
Next, thou didst much abuse those Noble-men,
And kild [...]st their bounty, from a Poets Pen.
And thirdly, thou a Poet didst beguile,
To make thy selfe the Author of his stile.
And last, thou shewst thy cheating good and euill,
Beguiling him, that could beguile the Deuill.
Thou highly hast prouo [...]'d the Muses fury,
Twelne Poets are empaneld for thy Iury;
Then William Fennor, stand vnto the Bar,
Hold vp thy hand, herd thy accuser [...] are:
Art guilty or not guilty of those crimes
Thou art accus'd, th'ast stole fiue thousand rimes,
From But ends of old Ballads, and whole books,
What saist thou for thy selfe; hold vp thy lookes?
He falters, and his words are all vnsteady,
Poore fellow looks as he were hangd already,
His silence doth affirme these things are true,
And therefore let the Bench in order due
Giue sentence, that within a hempen string
He at S. Thomas Wat'rings may goe swing;
And for heliu'd the wonder of our time,
Do him this honor, hang him vp in rime.
A Sirrha, is the matter falne out so,
Must thou Extemp'ry to the Gallowes goe,
For old atquaintance, e'r thou breathe thy last,
I o'r the Water will giue thee A Cast.
And till the halter giue thy necke a wrench,
Thou shalt haue time and space in the Kings Bench,
To Con and fesse, and to repent thy fill,
And to dispose thy goods, and make thy will:
Which being done, and thou well hang'd and dead,
This Epitaph vpon thy graue I'l spread,
That passers by may read, and reading see
How much thou art beholden vnto me.

Epitaph.

HE that could alwayes lye, doth lye
Sixe foote below thy feet:
Of any colours he could dye
His lyes, to make them meet.
In lyes vntrue he spent his youth,
And truly dead, lies here in truth.
HOw saist thou Fennor, is not all this worth
Thy harty thanks, which I haue here set forth
If not, thou shew'st thy selfe the more ingratefull,
Which vice, is to the very Diuell hatefull.
Thou didst belye me when thou saidst I threat thee,
For rather then I would doe so, I'd beat thee:
And 'twere the easier taske of both by halfe,
But who will foule his fists on such a Calfe;
A Calfe said I, for age thou dost appeare
To be a Bull, of Oxe, th'art past a Steere.
Thou liest againe, accusing me of Griese,
Because thou go [...]st a pardon for a Thiefe.
Why should I grieue at that was neuer done,
The pardon yet I'm sure thou hast not won,
The poore man he hath cause to grieue enuffe,
For being Cheated of his houshold stuffe,
Thou bragg [...]st and prat'st how charity and loue.
Of mankind, onely did thy pitty moue,
And not desire of siluer for thy paine
Did make thee seeke his pardon to attaine.
And then (as if thou wert de [...]our'd with zeale)
Thy false hypocrise thou dost reueale.
In our Contentious writing 'tis vnfit
That any word of Scripture should be writ,
The name of God is to be feard with trembling,
And thou mak'st it a Cloke for thy dissembling;
Shall Raskall Rimes, profane vnhallowed things,
B [...]xt with flaming the great King of Kings.
The onely one in three, and three in one;
Let him and all his Attributes alone.
Thou saist before that I should hanged be,
How thou a pardon woudst procure for me.
[Page 163] [...] it come to that, I'l end the strife,
[...] before I'l thanke thee for my life:
[...] thy gilt of conscience wondrcus great [...]s;
[...] thou wouldst ne'r write thy repenting treatis,
[...]ing me to patience and forgiue,
[...] shewes thou some abuse to me didst giue,
[...] make me cry Vindicta, and requite
[...] wrongs, before all misconceiuers fight.
[...] for my Arth's th'ast giu'n me quit for que.
[...]ou must to Tyburn, I to Wapping goe,
[...] I have gotten a Reprieue, and can
[...] myselfe to be an honest man.
[...] Muse for thee a Habeus Corpus brings,
[...] Tyburne to Saint Thomus Waterings.

An Epilogue.

[...]To'd thee I had worser rods in pisse,
Thou findst it true, and I haue worse then this,
[...]c on occasion I will freely vtter,
[...] thou but dare against me for to mutter:
[...] three daies thou didst write that book of thine,
Thou saist, and I in fourteene houres did mine.
[...]or I would haue thee well to vnderstand,
[...] haue by water and by land,
[...] seruice and occasions me incites
To write by snatches, and by spurts a nights.
That if my businesse were but ouer-past,
The writing such another, I durst fast
[...]m sleepe or sustenance of meat or drinke,
And such a taske would famish thee I thinke,
[...]for a wager will be locked vp,
And no reliefe will either bite or sup,
Vntill as much as this my muse deuise,
And scarcely be an hungred when I rise.
Then for thine owne sake (Poet Pedler) cease,
Or bind my sharpe fang'd Muse vnto the peace:
For thou maist sweare, & keep thy conscience cleere
That of thy life thou liu'st in mighty feare.
[...] I make thee desp'rate, thine owne breath be­reaue,
[...]y which, the Hangman thou wilt much deceiue.
Thus doe I leaue my lines to all mens view,
To iudge if I haue paid thee not thy due.
To write of thee againe, my Muse hath ceast,
[...] is enough, enough's a feast.
I know thy lying Chaps are stopt for euer,
That all thy study and thy best endeuour,
Nor fifty more such shallow brains as thine,
Can answere this one little booke of mine.
But if thou dost, I know 'twill be so lame,
A wise man will not reade it o'r for shame,
And therefore Fennor gnaw vpon this bone,
What next I write, shall better be or none.

Taylors defence of the honesty of his Blew-Bitch.

NOw Fennor once more I'l giue thee a twitch
For hunting hotly after my Blue Bitch:
Beware she doth not teare thee by the throat.
She's neither Salt nor hot, I'd hau [...] thee know [...].
Thou (like a Hound) perhaps maist licke her taile,
But further all thy wits cannot preuaile:
I wish thee from thy Kennell [...] to roame,
But for thine owne tooth keep thy Brache at home.
My Bitch will bite thee sorely, I am sure.
And where she fangs, 'tis commonly past enre,
At honest men shee' I neuer cry [...],
But she will snarle, and snap such knaues as thou.
As for my Cod let her be up'd and rip'd,
Let her be search'd to see what she hath ship'd,
And nothing in her all the world can see,
But sharpe Satyricke whips to torture thee.

His Landing.

NOw here I land th [...] S. Mary [...],
I think not for your worships wōted bawdries
I know your businesse is not for a wench,
The Tipstaffe tels me you are for the Bench,
Where you may feed your Muse on Carrat rootea,
And lie a bed, borrow no shooes or bootes,
And liue within the ruses, a good thing truly,
For such a man as you that liue vnruly:
Farewell, and yet I'l visit you againe,
When in a Rugg you Clanior at the Chaine.
And once againe when it falls to your lot,
Below your eare to weare the pendant [...]not.
Meane space because you are a merry Greeke,
I'l send thee bread and pottage thrice a weeke.

The praise of cleane Linnen. VVITH THE COMMENDABLE VSE OF THE LAVNDRES.

DEDICATED TO THE MOST MONDIFYING, CLARI­FYING, PVRIFYING, AND REPVRIFYING, CLEANSER, Clearer, and Reformer of deformed and polluted Linnen, Martha Legge Esquiresse, transparent, vnspotted, Snow Lilly-white Laundresse to the Right worshipfull and generous the Innes of Court, of the middle Temple, with diuers others in the ranke of Nobility, Gentility, and tranquility: your poore and vnknowne Poeticall Oratour IOHN TAYLOR, in humility and [...], cranes your Patronages ability, in defence of his imbecility.

MOst cleanely and profest Antagonist to vermine, dirt, and filth, [...] Dragmatus the Diagotian Stigmatist very worthily wrot in hi [...] Treatise of the Antiquitie of Shapparoones and carelesse Band [...] Rushtoy ton tumeron smolensco whish wherlibumque. Which is in Eng­lish, That to conserue and keepe cleane, is as much or more then to make cleane: and I know by long experience that your paines and industry not onely makes our polluted Linnen cleane, but also to conserue and preserue [...] in that neatnesse and purity as is correspondent for our health and wholesome­nesse: vpon these gratefull confiderations. I haue presumed to consecrate these vnpolish'd lines to your vnspotted Cleanlinesse) not doubting but the lathering suds of vour lennitie, will wash away all such faults as are not herein committe [...] through want of ignorance; and with the white Starch of your firme constancy, you will stiffen the weakenesse of my feeble and limber, labours, that it may be able to stand like a stout, Mastiffe Dogge, against the opposition of all detracting Nungerels; I haue in this ensuing volume, set forth the praise and commenda­tions of Cleane Linnen, with the honourable paines of the Laundresse; which word Laundres I finde to be both vnfitting and derogatory to your comly, com­mendable, laudable, neate, sweet and seemely calling; for the Anagram of Laun­dre.

[Page 165]SLAVVNDER, which name or Epithite is halfe a slawnder to your suri­ [...] for to be a Laundres, imports onely to wash or dresse Lawne, which is as [...] impeachment as to cal a lustice of the Peace, a Beadle; a Dyer, a Scaldragge; or [...]nger, a seller of Gubbins. No, my most laborious and purifying Patro­ [...] your glory shall no longer be Ecclipsed, to be termed a bare Lawndres, or a [...] of Lawne, but a Hollandresse, Tiffanie-dresse, Lawndresse, Lockrumdresse, [...]wlesdresse, Callicute and Canuas-dresse, which in the totall is a Linnendresse, [...] you are the onely Linnen Armouresse, Cap a pea from the declination of the [...] to the exaltation of the Nightcap, and from the loftie Quoyse, to the lowly [...]eloued Smockeskirt; and herein I am strucke into admiration, at the vn­ [...] alour, that champion-like doth accompany and constantly defend [...]our cha [...]titie; For you dare in a morning to enter a Gentlemans chamber, to [...]ppe him out of his foule shirt in his bed, to haue him at your bare and naked [...] and then like a vertuous victor, in pittie and commiseration, you put a [...] shirt on his backe, leauing him in a clearer and farre sweeter case then you [...]ound him; no doubt but such obiects are prouocatory temptations to fraile [...] and bloud: but as I said before, your courage and constancie alwaies brings [...] fairely off and on, though thousands weaker vessels of [...]alitie would bee [...]'d in these vnbloudie bickerings. As for your good Husband, who is Legge [...] name, my poore Muse makes a legge in courtesie to him and you both. Some [...] Coxcombes in Wit and iudgement will terme him a Cobler, whilest [...]ood mannors entitles him a Translator. When I thinke vpon the simpathie and [...] pondancie of both your qualities, I approue Fortune for a wise cunning woman in clapping such a coniuriction together; for he is a mender, and you [...] a mundifier or to speake truth, you are both menders, and God knowes how [...]any will be hanged before they will mend: your Ar [...] is to keepe our bodies [...]weet and cleane, and his Trade is to set our wicked and crooked soales right and [...]right; hee is a firme and stableman, and waxeth much oftner then hee wanes; [...] workers sildome aboue the legge, which shewes the true loue that he beares [...]his Name and [...] Legges are of much more antiquity then Linnen, in [...]gard [...]whereof [...] [...] being of the younger [...] doth good seruice many [...] betweene the Legges and you and your husband may by name and na­ [...]re, very Poe [...]ly make an Herameter; Legges are the supporters and por­ [...] that vphold and carry man, fowle, and beast. A good Legge is a great grace [...] dis [...]y ess [...] in the [...]e, and not too much spindled in the small, [...]my noble Translator knowes that a Boot is an armour for a good Legge, and [...] or [...] for a bad; to which acknowledgement many a Gentleman V­ [...] will say Probatumest: of all parts of the Body the Legge beares the pricke [...] [...] It is embrodred with Veines, inlaid with Arteries, enchased with [Page 166] Nerues, interlac'd with Muscles, ennamel'd with Sinewes, interwouen with Membranes, intermixt with Tenons, embost with Ankles, hauing a Neat Fo [...] for a man, and fiue Toes for Pages to attend it. More for the honour of Legges [...] what is better meat then the Legges of Beife, Mutton, Lambe, Porke, Capon [...] Turkey, Goose or Woodcocke? Nay, there is such vertue in them, that any rea­sonable Cooke with a Stooles Legge (and something else) will make good broth [...] To finish my prolixious short, briefe, and tedious dedication, I wish that yo [...] and your Husband in coniugall combination, in the way of Procreation, ma [...] multiply and make Legges, which is a part of good Manners and Courtesie [...] whereof these vnmannerly times is almost barren. Thus referring my selfe and my labours to bee accepted and censured according to the purity and integ [...] of both your reforming functions, with my prayers for the cleane amendmen [...] of all foulers of Linnen, and the reforming of all bad Legges, for the better sup­portation of Washers, Starchers and Translator: I remaine,

He whose sinfull shirt lyes humbly at the mercy of your washing Bowl [...]
IOHN TAYLOR.

The praise of Cleane Linnen.

MY Muse no tydings brings from Prester Iohn,
Not from the [...] or the Torrid Zon [...]:
She hath not search't [...] [...]
Nor forag'd ouer Affrisks-scorched grounds [...]
For this here vnder wr [...]t I trauel'd not
Vnto the Welch the Irish, or the Soo [...]:
To Towne nor Citty did I make re [...]ine
Nor did I buy in Market or in Faire
This Linnen treasure, but is B [...] [...]
Where (cares except) [...] fellow had I none.
My drowzy Muse awak'd, and straight she meets
This wel-beloued subiect, twixt [...]heet [...].
Yet though not farre my Mnse for it did rome,
I did accept it when she brought it home,
And taking pen in hand, [...]gan to write,
What you may read, and reading take delight.
And O sweet Linnen, humbly I implore,
(Though of thee I haue no [...] store)
Yet for I am thy seruant [...] this time,
And with my Muse attend thee with my rime,
Ass [...] thy Poet, neuer let him lacke
A comely, cleanly shirt vnto his backe.
Cleane Linnen it my Mist [...] and my Theame [...]
Flower, like an ouer-flowing plenceous streame,
But first I will discouer what I meane,
By this same seemly word, which men call Clean [...]
As Titans light's offenciue to the Owl [...],
So, Clean [...] is opposite to what is s [...]
Yet (in the ayre) some flying Fowle there are,
Which tane, and cleanly drest [...]are Fowle cleane [...]
But [...]ly drest, when it is fairely tooke:
Foule is that Fowle, a foule ill take that Cooke.
But to the word cal'd Cleane, it is allotted,
The admirable Epithite Vnspotted,
From whence all soyl'd pollutions is exiled,
And therefore Cleans is called vndesiled:
'Tis [...] clari [...]t 'tis mundsfi'd,
And from impurity is purisi'd.
But to be truly Cleane is such a state,
As [...] the Noble name imm [...]ealate:
And I wish all mankind the grace might win,
To be (as here I meane) all Cleane within.
As 'tis [...] grace [...] man [...] man to be,
If [...]ard for [...]d wan [...] inward honesty:
So Linnes if with ( Cleane) it be not grac'd,
'Tis noy some, [...], and it giues distaste.
As [...] than or woman doth adorne,
So ( Cleane) is Linnen [...] vertue; and is worne
For pleasure, profit, and for ornament,
Throughout the Wo [...]s most spacious continent.
Much more of this word ( Cleane) might here be
But tediousnesse is enemy to wit,
Cleane [...]men now my verse deseends to thee,
Thou that preordinsted wert to be,
Our Corps first Couer, at our naked birth:
And our last garment when we turne to Earth.
[Page 167] [...] all men Cleane Linnen should espie,
[...] M [...]ments of mortalitie:
[...] a Sheet vnto the greatest State,
[...] Alp [...] and Omega of his fate.
[...] our birth's Cleane Linnen doth attend vs,
[...]h it all our whole liues race befriend vs;
[...], at home, in Church or Common-wealth,
[...], or boord, in sickenesse and in health.
[...] forth the Churches puritie,
[...] [...]potlesse Doctrine, and integritie:
[...] State Angelicall, white innocence,
[...] [...]sing loue, and bright magnificence.
[...]e for Linnen doe the Church forsake,
[...]doe a Surplice for a Bug-bear [...] take.
[...]alwayes to the Church I bring mine eares,
[...]eyes to hote what roabes Church-men weares:
[...] from the Church, let vs returne but home.
[...] [...] there the cloth is said against you come:
[...] [...]ging hunger make the Stomacke wroth,
[...] halfe asswag'd by laying of the Cloth.
[...] in the warres of eating 'tis the vse,
[...] Table of cloth is hungers flagge of Truce:
[...] in the fight the Napkins are your friends,
[...] wait vpon you, at your fingers ends.
[...] Dinner and your Supper ouer-past,
[...] linnen in your beds, you are imbrac'd,
[...] [...], 'twixt the sheetes refreshing rest you take,
[...]turne from side to side, and sleepe and wake:
[...]re the sheetes in euery Christian Nation
[...] walles or limits of our generation,
[...] where desire, and loue, combined meets,
[...] there's braue doings 'twixt a paire of sheets:
[...] where a Harlots lust doth entertaine,
[...]here one sheets pennance, bides the shames of twaine:
[...] all degrees my counsaile here is such
[...] of the lower sheet, take not too much.
[...] from our beds we doe oft cast our eyes,
[...]Linnen yeelds a shirt before we rise,
Which is a garment shisting in condition,
[...]nd in the Canting tongue is a Commission:
[...] [...]eale, or woe, in ioy or dangerous drifts,
[...] will put a man vnto his shifts.
[...]vnto it belongs this fatall lot,
[...] makes him shift that hath, or hath it not.
[...]he man that hath a shirt doth shift and chaunge,
[...]he that, hath no shirt doth shift and raunge,
[...] the conclusion of this point must fall,
[...] shifteth most that doth not shift at all.
[...], a shirt most magically can
[...] if it's owner be an honest man:
[...]he washing will his honesty bewray,
[...] the lesse soape will wash his shirt they say.
[...] men Cleans shirts at such esteeme doe prize,
[...] the poor'st thiefe, who at the gallowes dyes,
[...] but his shirt is cleane, his mind is eas'd,
[...] hangs the hansomer, and better pleas'd.
Next at the smocke I needs must haue a s [...]irt,
(Which is indeed the sister to a shirt)
'Tis many a females Linnen tenement,
Whilest twixt the quarters she receiues her rent.
A Smock's her store-house, or her ware-house rather,
Where shee her commings in doth take and gather.
Her gaines by it are more then can be told,
'Tis her reuennue, and her copy-hold,
Her owne fee simple, shee alone hath power,
To let and set at pleasure euery houre,
'Tis a commodity that giues no day,
'Tis taken vp, and yet yeelds ready pay.
But for most other wares, a man shall bee
Allow'd for payment dayes three months and three.
Yet hath a Smocke this great preheminence,
(Where honour's mix'd with modest innocence)
It is the Roabe of married chastitie,
The vaile of Heauen-belou'd Virginitie,
The chaste concealemēt of those fruits close hidden,
Which to vnchaste affections are forbidden;
It is the Casket or the Cabinet,
Where Nature hath her chiefest Iewels set:
For whatsoe'r men toyle for, farre and nere,
By sea or land, with danger, cost, and feare,
Warres wrinkled brow, & the smooth face of peace
Are both to serue the smocke, and it's increase.
The greatest Kings, and wisest Counsellours,
Stout Soldiers, and most sage Philosophers,
The welthieft Merchants, and Artificers,
Pleibeians, and Plow-toyling labourers,
All these degrees, and more haue woo'd and praid,
And alwayes to the smocke their tributes paid.
Besides, 'tis taken for a fauour great,
(When one his mistris kindly doth intreat)
He holds these words as Iewels dropt from her.
You first shall doe as doth my Smocke sweet Sir.
This Theame of smocke is very large and wide,
And might (in verse) be further amplifide:
But I thinke best a speedy end to make,
Lest for a smel-smocke some should me mistake:
I first began it with a flirt or flout,
And ending, with a mocke, I will goe out.
The Anagram of SMOCKE I find is MOCKES,
And I conclude a pox of all strait smockes.
Now vp aloft I mount vnto the Russe,
Which into foolish mortals pride doth pusse:
Yet Ruffes antiquity is here but small,
Within this eighty yeeres, not one at all,
For the eighth Henry, (as I vnderstand)
Was the first King that euer wore a Band,
And but a falling Band, plaine with a hem,
All other people knew no vse of them,
Yet imitation in small time began,
To grow, that it the Kingdome ouer-ran:
The little falling-bands encreac'd to Ruffes,
Ruffes (growing great) were waited on by Cuffes,
[Page 168]And though our frailties should awake our care,
We make our Ruffes as carelesse as we are:
Our Ruffes vnto our faults compare I may,
Both carelesse, and growne greater euery day.
A Spaniards Ruffe in follio, large and wide,
Is th'abstract of ambitions boundlesse pride.
For roundnesse 'tis the Embleme, as you see,
Of the terrestriall Globes rotunditie,
And all the world is like a Ruffe to Spaine,
Which doth encircle his aspiring braine,
And his vnbounded pride doth still persist,
To haue it set, and poaked as he list.
The sets to Organ-pipes, compare I can,
Becausethey doe offend the Paritan,
Whose zeale doth call it superstition,
And Badges of the Beast of Babilon.
Ruffes onely at the first were in request,
With such as of abilitie were best:
But now the plaine, the stich'd, the lac'd, and shagge,
Àre at all prices worne by tagge, and Ragge.
So Spaine (who all the world would weare) shall see,
Like Ruffes, the world from him shall seat'red bee.
As for the Cuffe 'tis pretily encreac'd,
(Since it began, two hand fulls at the leaft)
At first 'twas but a girdle foe the wrist,
Or a small circle to enclose the fist.
Which hath by little and by little crept,
And from the wrist vnto the elboe leap't,
Which doth resemble sawey persons well:
For giue a Knaue an inch, hee'l take an ell.
Ruffes are to Cuffes, as 'twere the breading mothers,
And Cuffes are twins in pride, or two proud bro­thers.
So to conclude, Pride weares them for abuse,
Humalitie, for ornament and vse,
A Night-cap is a garment of high state,
Which in captiuitie doth captines [...]
The braine, the reason, wit, and sense and all,
And euery night doth beare sway capitall.
And as the horne aboue the head is worne,
So is the Night-cap worne aboue the horne,
And is a Sconce or Block-house for the head,
Wherein much matter is considered,
And therefore (when too much wee sucke the tap)
'Tis truly called a considering Cap.
By day it waits on Agues, Plurisies,
Consumptions and all other malladies,
A day worne Night-cap, in our Common-wealth,
Doth shew the wearer is not well in health:
Yet some mens folly makes my muse so smile,
When for a kib'd heele, broken shin, or bile,
Seab'd hams, cut fingers, or a little s [...]ar [...]
A [...] royne Bumpe, or a Goose from Winchester,
When I see Night-caps worne for these poore vses,
It makes my worship laugh at their abuses.
Thus is a Night-cap most officious,
A Captaine, Captrous, and Capritious,
And though vnmarried young men may forbeare [...]
Yet age, and wedlocke makes a man to weare it.
A Handkerchiefe may well be cal'd in briefe,
Both a perpetuall leacher, and a thiefe,
About the lippes it's kissing, good and ill,
Or else 'tis diuing in the pocket still,
As farre as from the pocket to the mouth,
So is it's pilgrimage with age or youth.
At Christining-banquets and at funerals,
At weddings (Comfit-makers festiuals)
A Handkerchiefe doth filch most manifold,
And sharke and steale as much as it can hold.
'Tis soft, and gentle, yet this I admire at,
At sweet meates 'tis a tyrant, and a pyrat.
Moreouer 'tis a Handkerchiefes high place,
To be a Scauenger vnto the face,
To clense it cleane from sweat and excrements,
Which (not auoyded) were vnsauory scents;
And in our griefes it is a trusty friend,
For in our sorrow it doth comfort lend:
It doth partake our sighes, our plaints and feares,
Receiues our sobs, and wipes away our teares.
Thus of our good and bad it beares a share,
A friend in mirth a comforter in care.
Yet I haue often knowne vnto my cost,
A Handkerchiefe is quickly found, and lost.
Like loue where true affection hath no ground,
So is it slightly lost, and lightly found;
But be it ten times lost, this right I'l doe it,
The fault is his or hers that should looke to it.
Should I of euery sort of Linnen write,
That serues vs at our need, both day and night,
Dayes, months and yeeres, I in this Theame might spend
And in my life time scarcely make an end.
Let it suffice that when 'tis fretted out,
And that a cloth is worne into a clout,
Which though it be but thin and poore in shape,
A Surgeon into lint the same will scrape,
Or rolles, or bolsters, or with plaster spread,
To dresse and cure, all hurts from heele to head,
For gangrens, vlcers, or for wounds new hack'd,
For cuts, and flashes, and for Coxcombs crack'd.
Thus many a Gallant that dares stab and swagges,
And 'gainst a Iustice lift his fist or dagger:
And being mad perhaps, and hot pot-shot,
A crazed Crowne or broken-pate hoth got;
Then ouer him old Linnen dominceres,
And (spight of steeth) it clouts him 'bout the cares,
Thus new or old, it hath these good effects,
To cure our hurts, or couer our defects:
And when it selfe's past helpe, with age and rending,
Quite past selfe mending, 'tis our means of mēding.
The flint and steele will strike bright sparkling fite.
But how can wee haue fire at our desire,
Except old Linnen be to tinder burn'd,
Which by the steele and flint to fire is turn'd?
[Page 169] [...] all cleane Linnen that a Laundresse washes,
[...] Muse hath worne to clowts, or turn'd to ashes.
[...]nd ther's the end on't. Now I must pursue,
The old consumed) how to purchase new.
[...]ow of the louely Laundresse, whose cleane trade,
[...]th' onely cause that Linnen's cleanely made:
[...]ing is on two extremes relying,
[...] euer wetting, or shee's euer drying.
[...] all men dye to liue, and liue to dye,
[...] doth shee dry to wash, and wash to drye.
[...] runnes like Luna in her circled spheare,
[...] perpetuall motion shee doth steare.
[...] course in compasse round and endlesse still,
Such like a horse that labours in a mill:
[...]o shew more plaine how shee her worke doth, frame,
[...] Lianen's foule e'r shee doth wash the same:
[...] washing further in her course she marches,
[...] wrings, she folds she pleits, she smoothes, she starches
[...] stiffens, poakes, and sets and dryes againe,
[...]nd foldes: thus end of paine begins her paine.
[...]d like a whirligigge or lenten Top,
[...]a most plenteous spring, that still doth drop.
[...] Soddes vnto the Sea I may compare,
The Reake or smocke, the wind; the fishes Linnen are,
[...]he Laundresse fishes, foaming froth doth lighten,
[...]he whilest her tongue doth thunder & affrighten,
The totall is a tempest full of chiding,
That no man in the house hath quiet by ding.
[...] L [...]ndresses are resty and full of wroth,
[...]hen they are lathering in their bumble broth,
[...] can I blame them, though they brawle & talke,
[...]en there haue nought to doe, they may goe walke:
[...] commonly their worke this profit brings,
The good-wife washeth, and her husband wrings.
[...] though my verse thus merrily doth stray,
[...] give the Laundresse still her due I pray:
What were the painefull Spinner, or the Weauer,
[...] for her labour, and her good endeauour,
What were the function of the Linnen Draperye,
[...] Sempsters admirable skill in Naperye?
They all might turne and wind, and liue by losse,
[...] that the Laundresse giues their worke a glosse,
[...] that wee vse to weare, 'tis plaine,
The Laundresse labour giues it grace and gaine,
Without her 'tis most loathsome in distaste,
[...]nd onely by her paines and toyle 'tis grac'd,
[...] is the ornamentall Instrument,
That makes it tastefull to the sight and scent:
[...] you man-monsters, monstrous Linnen soylers,
[...] Shirt polluting tyrants, you sheets spoylers,
[...]tious rude Ruffe-rending raggamentoyes
[...] tragma Troynouantoyes
Remember that your Lanndresse paines is great,
Whose labours onely keepe you sweet and neat:
Consider this, that here is writ, or said,
And pay her, (not as was the Sculler paid)
Call not your Laundresse flut or slabb'ring queane,
It is her slabb'ring that doth keepe thee cleane,
Nor call her not Drye-washer in disgrace,
For feare shee cast the suddes into thy face:
By her thy Linnen's sweet and cleanely drest,
Else thou wouldst stinke aboue ground like a beast.
There is a bird which men Kings fisher call,
Which in foule weather hath no ioy at all,
Or scarce abroad into the ayre doth peepe,
But in her melancholy nest doth keepe:
Till Tyians glory from the burnish'd East,
Rich Bridegroome-like in gold and purple drest,
Guilds, and enamels mountaines, woods, and hils,
And the rotundious Globe with splendor fils,
In these braue Buksome merry Halcion dayes,
Then this most bewtcou [...] bird her plumes displaies:
So doth a Laundresse, when the Sun doth hide
His head, when skyes weepe raine and thunder chide,
When powting, lowring, slauering sleete & snow,
From foggy Austers blustring iawes doth blow,
Then shee in moody melancholy sittes,
And sighing, vents her griefe by girds and sittes:
Her liquid Linnen piteous pickl'd lyes,
For which shee lowres and powts as doth the skies,
But when bright Phoebus makes Aurora blush,
And roabes the welkin with a purple flush,
Whē mourning cloudes haue wasted all their teares,
And welcome weather faire and dry appeares,
Then to the hedge amaine the Laundresse ambles,
In weeds of pennance clothing bryers and brambles,
Like a Commaundresse, vsing martiall Lawes,
She strikes, she poakes and thrusts, she hangs and drawes,
She stiffens stifly, she both opes and shuts,
She sets, and out she pulles, and in she puts.
Not caring much if wind blow low or hye,
Whilst drunkards thirst for drink, she thirsts to dry.
Thus hauing shew'd the Laundresse praise and paine,
How end of worke begins her worke againe:
I hope amongst them they will all conclude,
Not to requite me with ingratitude:
But as an Act they'l friendly haue decreed,
I ne'r shall want Cleane Linnen at my need.
Whil'st to their owne contentments I cōmend them,
And wish faire drying weather may attend them.
If thankefully you take this worke of mine,
Hereafter I will cause the muses nine,
To helpe me adde, to what seemes here diminish'd,
So Vale Tot [...], here my Booke is FINISH'D.

The principall occasions why this merry Poeme was written.

IT was at that time that the worlds terrour, and warres Thunder-bolt Allaricke King of the Gothes wasted Italy, sacked Rome, and stooke all the King­domes of the earth into a Feuer­tertian, when there was inhabiting in the Dukedome of Tuscanye a valiant Captaine na­med Catso, descended from the Royall house of Frigus the first King of the Fridgians. This Catso being driuen to his shifts in these robu­stuous bickerings of the Gothes, fled for safety to the Ile of Sardinia, where for his good parts and free behauiour, hee was entertained by the most beautifull Madam Meretricia, the de­lightfull daughter and sole heire of Baloclitus King of Sardis, yet although his place was chiefe Gentleman of the Bid-Chamber, his high pitcht resolution was eleuated and erected, for trauell and hotter seruices: So (with much griefe to the Lady) hee tooke his leaue, and sayling through the straits of Gibralter, and the gulphe of Madye Lane, hee past the Cape Bo­na Esperance, as farre as China, where hee staid certaine daies at Iappan: then hee determined to progresse it by land, and passing by the great Citty of Tarsus in Idumea, by long iour­neys hee came to Gallicia, where nere to Greyne hee was in hot seruice, and came off somewhat scortch'd, with fire workes in a mine: passing from thence hee came into France where hee was well wel-com'd at Brest, and at the Towne of Deipe, was made great prouision for his comming; but for some reasons hee would neuer come there: In briefe, after hee had approu'd himselfe a hot, valiant, and aduen­turous Souldier abroad, and a peace-maker a [...] home, hee came into Ireland, where at Dubbl [...] hee was strucke lame; but recouering ne [...] strength and courage, hee snip'd himselfe fo [...] England, landed at West-Chester, whence tak­ing pofte towards London, hee lodg'd at [...] ley in the hole, in his way, at last being come to the Citty, hee made many merry and mad va­geries betwixt Turnebull-street and Burnt-wood spending freely, and faring deliciously; ha­uing a stiffe stomacke to digest all dishes, ex­cept Winchester Geese, and Newmarket Turkies [...] thus with much danger and difficulty hauing trauelled farther then euer man saw, and pas­sed his time with much loue amongst Ladyes and Gentlewomen, hauing beene a great with stander of many desperate oppositions, and [...] rare Musitian for his long practice in Pricke­song. He againe past the Sea in a Frigget to Constantinople, where hee fell into a moody melancholy (like Tymon of Athens) and scorned to stand at any time, although he was charged in the name of the Graund Signior. This Gallant hauing beene all his time a great vser, wearer, and taker vp of Napery, did most bountifully bequeath to any Poet that would write a Poeme in the praise of Cleane Linnen, as many shirts of the purest Holland as might bee wash'd in Hellicon, and dryed on the two topt hill of Parnassus. To performe whose commaund, and receiue the bequeathed Le­gacie, I vndertooke this great taske, and per­form'd it accordingly.

FINIS.

THE TRVE CAVSE OF THE WATER­MENS Suit concerning Players, and the reasons that their Playing on London side is their extreame hindrances. With a Relation how farre that suit was proceeded in, and the occasions that it was not effected.

THe occasions that hath moued me to write this Pamphlet are many, and forcible, and the Attempt in wriring it ad­uenturous and full of danger, for as on the one side I doubt not but with truth to stop the mouthes of Ig­norance and Mallice that haue and doe daily scandalize mee (and withall I know I shall purchase a generall thankes from all honest men of my Company) so I am assured to gaine the hatred of some that loue mee well, and I affect them no worse, only for my plaine truth and discharging my conscience: But fall back, fall edge, come what can come, I am resol­ued and without feare or flattery, thus I be­ginne.

In the month of Ianuary last 1613. there was a motion made by some of the better sort of the company of Watermen, that it were ne­cessary for the reliefe of such a decayed mul­titude to petition to his Maiesty, that the Players might not haue a play-house in Lon­don or in Middlesex, within foure miles of the City on that side of the Thames. Now this request may seeme harsh and not well to bee disgested by the Players and their Apendixes. But the reasons that mou'd vs vnto it, being claritably considered, makes the suite not on­ly seeme reasonable, but past seeming most necessary to be sued for, and tollerable to bee granted.

Out petition being written to purpose a­foresaid, I was selected by my company to deliuer it to his Maiesty and follow the busi­nesse, which I did with that care and integri­ty, that I am assured none can iustly taxe me with the contrary. I did ride twice to Theo­balds, once to Newmarket, and twice to Roy­stone, before I could get a reference vpon my petition. I had to beare my charge, of my company first and last, seuen pound two shil­lings, which horshire, horse meat, and mans meat brought to a consumption; besides I wrote seuerall petitions to most of the Right Honourable Lords of his Maiesties Priuy Counsell, and I found them all compassionate­ly affected to the necessity of our cause.

First, I did briefly declare part of the ser­uices that Watermen had done in Queene E­lizabeths raigne, of famous memory, in the voyage to Portingale, with the Right Hono­rable and neuer to be forgotten Earle of Essex; then after that, how it pleased God (in that great deliuerance in the yeere 1588.) to make Watermen good seruiceable instruments, with their losse of liues and limbs to defend their Prince and Country. Moreouer, many of them serued with Sir Francis Drake, Sir Iohn Hawkins, Sir Martin Frobusher, and others: besides in Cales action, the Iland voyage, in Ireland, in the Lowcuntryes, and in the nar­row Seas they haue beene, (as in duty they are bound) at continuall command, so that euery Summer 1500. or 2000. of them were imploy­ed to the places asoresaid, hauing but nine shillings foure pence the month a peece for their pay, and yet were they ab [...]e then to set [Page 172] themselues out like men, with shift of Appa­rell, linnen and wollen, and forbeare charging of their Prince for their pay sometimes sixe months, nine months, twelue months, some­times more, for then there were so few Wa­termen and the one halfe of them being at Sea, those that staid at home had as much worke as they would doe.

Afterwards the Players began to play on the Bank-side and to leaue playing in London and Middlesex (for the most part) then there went such great concourse of people by water, that the smal number of watermen remaining at home were not able to carry them, by rea­son of the Court, the Tearmes, the Players, and other imployments, so that we were in­forced and encouraged (hoping that this gol­den stirring world would haue lasted euer) to take and entertaine men and boyes: which boyes are growne men, and keepers of houses, many of them being ouer-charged with fa­milies of Wife and Children, so that the num­ber of Water-men, and those that liue and are maintained by them, and by the onely la­bour of the Oare and the Scull, betwixt the Bridge of Windsor and Grauesend, cannot be fewer then forty thousand; the cause of the greater halfe of which multitude, hath beene the Players playing on the Banke-side, for I haue knowne three Companies besides the Beare-bayting, at once there; to wit, the Globe, the Rose, and the Swan. And it is an infallible truth, that had they neuer played there it had beene better for Water-men by the one halfe of their liuing, for the Compa­ny is encreased more then halfe by their meanes of playing there in former times.

And now it hath pleased God in this peace­ful time, that there is no imploymēt at the sea, as it hath beene accustomed, so that all those great numbers of men remaines at home; and the Players haue all (except the Kings men) left their vsuall residency on the Banke-side, and doe play in Middlesex farre remote from the Thames, so that euery day in the weeke they doe draw vnto them three or foure thou­sand people, that were vsed to spend their mo­nies by water, (to the reliefe of so many thou­sands of poore people, which by Players for­mer playing on the Banke-side) are encreased, so that oft-times a poore man that hath fiue or sixe children, doth giue good attendance to his labour all day, and at night (perhaps) ath [...] not gotten a Groat to relieue himselfe, his wife and family.

This was the effect and scope of our peti­tion, though here I haue declared it more at large, to which his Maiesty graciously gran­ted me a [...]reference to his commissioners for suites, who then were the Right honourable Sir Iulius Caesar, Sir Thomas Parray, Knights, the Right Worshipfull Sir Francis Bacon then the Kings Atturny generall, Sir Henry Moun­tague his Maiesties Sergant at Law, Sir Walter Cope, Master George Caluert, one of the Clarkes of his Maiesties priuy Counsell, and Baron Southerton, one of the Barons of the Kings Ex­chequer: these Honorable and Worshipfull persons I did oft folicite, by petitions, by friends, and by mine owne industrious impor­tunity, so that in the end when our cause was heard, wee found them generally affected to the suit we prosecuted.

His Maiestes Players did exhibit a petition against vs, in which they said, that our suit was vnreasonable, and that we might as iustly remoue the Exchange, the walkes in Pauls, or Moorefields to the Bank-side for our profits, as to confine them; but our extremities and cause being iudiciously pondered by the Ho­norable and Worshipfull Commissioners, Sir Francis Bacon very worthily said that so farre forth as the Publike weale was to be regarded before pastimes, or a seruiceable decaying multitude before a handful of particular men, or profit before pleasure, so far was our suite to be preferred before theirs. Whereupon the Players did appeale to the Lord Chamber­laine, which was then the Earle of Sommerset who stood well affected to vs, hauing beene moued before in the businesse by Master Sa­muel Goldsmith an especiall friend of mine, and a Gentleman that my selfe and all the rest of my poore company in generall, are generally beholden, and deepely ingaged vnto; for of his owne free will to his cost and charge, wee [Page 173] must with thankfulnesse acknowledge he hath beene and is continually our worthy friend. Who seeing the wants of such numbers of vs, [...]hath often neglected his owne vrgent and profitable affaires, spending his time and coyn [...] any honest occasion that might profit vs. Th [...]s much I thought good to insert in the [...]ay of thankfulnesse, because of all vices, in­gratitude is most hatefull.

The Commissioners did appoint mee to [...]me on the next day that they sate again, and that then the Players and wee should know their determinations concerning our busi­nesses: but before the day came, Sir Walter Cipe died, and Sir Iulius Caesar being chiefe Commissioner was made master of the Rolls, by which means the Commission was dissol'd, and we neuer yet had further hearing. Thus f [...]re did I proceed in this thanklesse suite; and because it was not effected, some of my com­ [...]y partly through malice or ignorance, or [...]oth, haue reported that I tooke bribes of the Players to let the suit fall, and that to that purpose I had a supper with them at the Car­dinalls Hat on the Banke-side, and that if I [...]d dealt wel with my Company, and done as I might haue done, then all had beene as they would haue had it.

These and more the like such pritty asper­sions, the out-cast rubbish of my Company hath very liberally, vnmannerly and ingrate­fully bestowed vpon mee, whereby my credit [...] been blemished the good opinion which many held of me lost, my name abused, and I [...] common reproach, a scorne, & bye-word, and bayting-stocke to the poysonous teeth of en­ [...]y and slander.

But I doubt not but what is before said will satisfie any well disposed or honest mind, and for the rest (if there bee any such) as I found them ignorant knaues, so I leaue them vn­thankfull villanes. And I will regard such Vi­pers and their slander so little, that their ma­lice shall not make mee giue ouer to doe ser­uice to my Company, by any honest lawfull meanes, my Trade (vnder God) is my best friend, and though it bee poore, I am sure the calling is honest, therefore I will be an assistant in this suite, or any other that may be auaile­able vnto it; and howsoeuer we are slightly esteem'd by some Giddy-headed Corkbrains or Mushrom Painted Puckfoysts; yet the e­state of this Kingdome knowes, that many of the meanest Scullers that Rowes on the Thames, was, is, or shall be if occasion serue, at command to doe their Prince and Country more seruice, then any of the Players shall be ioyned vnto.

I must confesse that there are many rude vn­ciuill Fellowes in our company, and I would some Doctor would purge the Thames of them: the reason whereof is, that all men be­ing Vicious, by consequence most Vice must be in the greatest Companies, but Water-men are the greatest Company, therefore most a­buses must raigne amongst Water-men; yet, (not to excuse them in any degree) let a man but consider other trades and faculties of of higher account, and I am sure they will come short in honesty, perhaps not of Water­men, but of the honest Vocation of a Water­man.

For if hee vse his labour no otherwise then he ought, which is to carry the Kings Leidge people carefully, and to land them safely, to take his due thankfully without murmuring or doing iniury, then I say, that that Water­man may feed vpon the labours of his hands with a better Conscience, and sleepe with a quieter spirit then many of our furre-gownd mony-mongers that are accounted good com­mon-wealths men: but if a rayling knaue doe chance to abuse his Fare, either in words or deeds, (as indeed wee haue too many such) what reason is it, that for the wrong that one, two, or more doth commit, that all the rest of the whole Company shal be scandaliz'd for it. If a Mercer, a Grocer, a Gold smith, or any other of the best Trades, be a Traytor, a Thiefe, or a Debosht Drunkard, it were im­pudent ignorance for the Vices of a few, that all the rest of the function should bee re­proch'd: I will make no odious comparisons, but I am perswaded that there are as many ho­nest men of our company as of any other, such as doe make a conscience of what they doe [Page 174] such as wil not wrong others though it might be gainfull to themselues: Such who are both Religious and Charitable, and whose greatest care is to liue in Gods feare, that they may die in his fauour: And for those that are vnruly, ignorant, and brutish, there is no company hath sharper Lawes, or more seuerely execu­ted, as the Counters can testifie once a weeke: Little ease can witnesse often: The whip, and the Whipper, like a roaring diuell doth ma­ny times affirme the naked truth, and banish­ment from the Riuer of Thames for euer, now and then cuts off a bad member. Besides, Fines and Forfeitures are laid vpon the heads of petty offenders, that few or none escapes vnpunished if their faults be knowne: If the gout be in a mans toe, all the body is grieued; if a finger ake, the rest of the members hath a share in the paine; but if many of the Ioynts and members be putrifide, then the heart can­not chuse but be craz'd with eare, if not woun­ded; so is it with our company, that the Abu­ses and Vices of the worst inferiour members as Gracelesse, Godlesse, Reprobates, are some­times like a Plague, infectious to their betters, and a daily heart-griefe to all honest men, who are scandalized by their damnable de­meanors. But all they doe or can doe, is no­thing to the defaming of the Company, for it were very absurd because one in his drinke hath kild a man, to impute the fault to the wine or the drinke that he dranke, when the blame lies in the drunkard that abus'd Gods good Creatures in taking too much; so a Wa­termans trade is honest, necessary, and not to be wanted, howsoeuer it is abus'd by misgo­uern'd vnciuill companions. If a Water-man would be false in his trade, I muse what fals­hood he could vse, hee hath no false weights or measures to curtoll a mans passage, but he will land a man for his money, and not bate him an inch of the place he is appointed: His shop is not darke like a Wollen-Drapers on purpose, because the buyer shall not see the coursnesse of the Cloath, or the falsenesse of the Colour: no, his worke and ware is seene and knowne, and hee vtters it with the sweat of hi [...] browes, the worst fault is, that like a Lawyer he will take more then his see (if any­body will giue it him) very thankfully, his bare fare he will take willingly (vpon neces­sity) but lesse then his fare, or many times no­thing, me thinkes goes against stomacke.

I haue seene a Vsurer (who hath beene [...] onely for the graue these seuen yeeres being more then halfe rotten with the Gowt, the Cough, and the Murre) who hath lost his con­science to get money, and perhaps, win dam­nation, who is not able to goe by land, and yet will not pay his Fare by water, but like the picture of misery, will either beg his passage of some seruing-man, or bargaine with a Wa­terman to giue him two pence for sixe penni, worth of labour, such I haue seene, and such there are too many, who if they were once bu­ried, the wheele of Time, would turne, and what they got vniustly by extortion, oppres­sion, and grinding the faces of the poore, what they haue vncharitably pinch'd in keeping backe the labourers hyre, their Sons or heires perhaps will consume in Law who shall pos­sesse most of that ill gotten goods, or else Drinke it, Dice it, Drab it, Reuel and ruffle it, till al is gone; and as their fathers before them made others to rot in prison, so their prodigall Sonnes are holed in some loathsome Iayle, be­ing lowzy, lodging on the boords, and liue vp­on the Boxe and the Almes-basket.

Moreouer, too many there are that passe the bounds of liberality, and spend most pro­digally on a Whore, on (the diuell of India) Tobacco; on the superfluous Quarts and Pintes of the blood of Bacchus (Sack and Cla­ret) Spanish and French, on vnlawfull Games, and in a word, on a thousand vanities, they wil carelesly and beyond expectation cast away their cash: but vpon a Water-man, that hath rowed till his heart ake, and sweats till hee hath not a dry thread about him, the Gentle­mens bounty is asleepe, and hee will pay him by the Statute, or if hee giue him two pence more, he hath done a huge worke beyond the merrit of Suttons Hospitall.

I my selfe haue often met with a Roaring boy (or one of the cursed crew) that hath had nothing about him but a Sattin outside to co­uer [Page 175] [...] his knauery, and that none of his owne [...]ther witnesse his Mercer and his Taylor: [...] this Gallant must be shipp'd in a paire of [...] at least: but his gay slop hath no soo­ [...] [...] the Cushions, but with a volley of [...] coynd outlies) newly brought from hell [...] Bermoodoes by the Ghost of a Knight [...] the poft) he hath neuer left Roaring, row, [...], row, a pox on you row, (as if his punke [...]ld stay too long for his pestiferous per­ [...] [...] and when his scuruinesse is landed where [...] leases, hee hath told me [...] I must waite on [...] and he, will returne to mee presently, [...] I shall carry him backe againe, and bee [...]d all together: then haue I attended fiue [...] six houres (like Iohn & Noakes) for nothing, [...] my cheating sharke hauing neither mony [...] honesty, hath neuer come at mee, but [...] some other paire of stayres, and in the [...] fashion coozened another Water-man [...] his Boat-hire.

We must, and doe with thankfulnesse con­ [...] [...] that the Nobility, Gentry, and all others [...] [...] [...] of this Kingdome, haue ho­ [...] [...] worthy and charitable considerations of [...] want of meanes, and multitude of men; [...] they doe know that house rent and victu­ [...] [...] are at foure times the rate which it was [...] when the Statute was made in Queene Ma­ [...] [...] [...] for our fares, and as the price of [...] thing is raised (except to [...]mens labors) [...] doe they in conscience very liberally rayse [...] hires accordingly.

And as before I haue written out grade is­ [...] [...] [...] vsefull and necessary, both for the Kings [...]ruice and the Commons commodity, that it [...] not to be (or cannot be wanted and by how [...] the more a, Water-man is neere to his [...]esty, to the Queenes Maiesty, to the Prin­ [...]es [...] Highnesse, to the Nobility; the Gentry, [...] the best of the Commonaity of this King­ [...]ome, [...] and sometimes of forraine Nations, so [...]ch the [...] [...]ight Water-men to behaue [...]emselues honestly, and soberly in their [...] [...] [...]here are many better trades and qua­ [...]ties [...] that scarce the best of their Companies [...] their [...]ues [...] do come so often and so [...] [...] presence of Mai [...] and Nobility as we doe. (I write not to disparrage any, nor with boasting to puffe vp our selues) none comes neerer, except the Barber, and long and often may he come) or the Physicion and Chirurgion, (which God grant they may bee euer needlesse:) but a Water-man many times hath his Soueraigne by the hand, to stay him in and out the Barge, where there is not aboue halfe an inch betwixt life & death, the Barge being then the royal Court & being but a dore betwixt the King & them, they are at that time Gentlemen of the priuy Chamber, or Yeomen of the Gard at least.

And thus much I am bold to insert for my selfe, and many more of my company that I know, that we neuer exacted mony wrongful­ly, or contended with any of the Kings Leidge people for more then they themselues would giue with any reason, or gaue any one abusiue or vnreuerend speeches if they would not go with vs: for we know that men are free to buy their cloath at what Drapers they please, or their stuffes at which Mercers they will, what Taylor they list make their garments, and what Cooke they l [...]ke may dresse their meat: and so forth of all f [...]ions euery man is free to make his choy [...]e; and so amongst Water­men, men may take whom they please, because they are s [...]ound to none, he that goes with me shall haue my labor, and I am in hope to haue his money [...] he that will not go [...] with me goes with another, and I haue the more ease the while, he doth me no wrong in not going with me, & I will do [...] iniury for going from [...] this is my resolution, and a number more of my Company, and those that are otherwise minded [...] all my heart that God will be pleased to [...] them or else that the Hangman may haue authority to end them.

But to returne to the purpose (from which I haue too long digrest) The Players are men that I generally loue, and wish well vnto and to their quality, and I doe not know any of them but are my friends, and wish as much to me: and howsoeuer the matter falls out, whe­ther they play or not play I thanke God, I am able to liue as well as another, either with them or without them: But my loue is such [Page 176] vnto them that whereas they do play but once a day, I could bee content they should play twice or thrice a day, so it were not in such places as doth vndoe so many thousands of poore people; for as it is, it were much better for vs that they plaid no where. And seeing so triuiall a cause as this would be scar [...]e incom­modious to any, and more commodious to vs then the foure Tearmes in the yeere, seeing our necessities so great, and our reliefe harme­lesse to any, seeing the vse of vs expedient, if occasions serue abroad or at home, and our vnablenesse to set our selues to sea, by reason of ou [...] want; our hope is that wee shall bee as much [...]eckoned of as horses, for horses haue meat, drink, and lodging, though they be but seldome ridden; and many of them haue a warme footcloth, when thousand of seruicea­ble men are like to famish and star [...] through want and nakednesse.

As concerning our endeauours to [...]moue the shelues and sands in the Thames (whic [...] are a great [...]noyance to the Riuer, and hu [...] full to the City,) As his Maiesty hath com [...]manded, and the Right Honourable the Lo [...] Maior & the rest of his worshipfull brethre [...] shall direct, we shall with all willingnesse do [...] our duties we doubt not both to the King Maiesties contentment; the good of the City and the good report of our selues.

Thus (becuase the truth shewes best being naked) I haue plainely set downe how farre proceeded in my suite, how it was broken of [...] what thankes I haue for my paines. The ne­cessity of the cause that made mee goe abou [...] [...] it. The abuses I had because it tooke no effect (which is the chiefe cause why I wrote thi [...] Pamphlet to iustifie my selfe.) At these thing I hope the Iudicious Vnderstander will iudge accordingly, alwaies esteeming mee a Loyal ouer of my Countrey; and my Company.

FINIS.

Wit and Mirth: CHARGEABLY COLLECTED OVT OF TAVERNS, ORDINARIES, Innes, Bowling Greenes and Allyes, Alehouses, Tobacco Shops, Highwayes, and Water passages. Made vp [...] and [...] [...] Clinohes, [...]ulls, Quirkes, Yerkes [...]garbled at the requ [...] of old [...]n GA [...] Gh [...]

DEDICATED To the truely Loyall harted, learned, well-accomplished Gentleman, M [...]ter [...]

SIR,

BEing enioyned by the Ghost or [...] beloued) to collect, gleant, or gather a bundle or trusse of Mirth, and for his [...] bestrow the stage of the melancholly world with it; and withall to present it to som [...] [Page 177] [...] generous spirit, who was old Iohns friend; I thought upon many to whom I might haue [...] my Dedication, who were both Royall, Honourable, Worshipfull, and all well-affected to­ [...]rds him. As to mention one for all, that Iewell of the world, and richest Iem of her sex, that Magazine of the two inestimable Iewels, Patience and Fortitude; to that illustrious, [...]relesse Princesse I might haue recommended it, to whose seruice, and for whose happinesse, his life and best endeauours, with his prayers and implorations at his death, were vnfainealy [...]rated. But my manners conceiuing the subiect of this Booke, of altogether to triuiall a [...] to be sheltred vnder the shadow of the wings of transcendent and admired Maiestie; [...] so many steps downe the staires with my inuention, where by good fortune I met with [...] whom I knew did loue that old honest mirrour of mirth, deceased; and whom the world [...]ter knows, are, a true deunted friend to honest harmelesse mirth, and laudable recreation.

[...] [...]herefore entreat you, that (when your more serious affaires will permit) you would be­ [...] [...] the looking vpon these my poore and beggarly wardrobe of witty Iests, whom I dare not [...] Apothegmes.

And because I had many of them by relation and heare-say, I am in doubt that some of them [...] be in print in some other Authors, which I doe assure you is more then I doe know; which [...] [...] be so, I pray you but to conniue or tollerate, and let the Authors make twice as bold with [...] at any time.

Thus wishing euery one to mend one, whereby the rent and torne garments of Thred-bare [...] may be well and merrily patched and repaired, crauing your pardon, with my best wishes, [...]aine

Yours euer in the best of my best studies hereof, IOHN TAYLOR.

IOHN GARRETS GHOST.

[...]He doores and windowes
of the Heauens were barr'd,
And Nights blacke Curtaine,
like an E [...]on, Robe,
From Earth did all Celestiall light discard,
And in sad darknesse clad the ample Globe;
Dead midnight came, the Cats' gan catterwaule,
The time when Ghosts and Goblings walke about;
[...] Owles shrick, & dismall Dogs doe bawle,
While [...] conscience cleare securely sleeps it out.
At such a time I sleeping in my bed,
A [...] strange appear'd vnto my [...]ight,
[...]zement all my senses ouer spread,
And fill'd me full with terrour and afright.
A merry graue aspect me thought he had,
And one he seem'd that I had often seene:
Yet was he in such vncouth shape yclad,
That what he was, I could not wistly weene.
His cloake was Sack, but not the Sacke of Spaine,
Canara, Mallago, or sprightfull Shery,
But made of Sack-cloth, such as beares the graine,
Good salt, & coles, which makes the Porters weary;
Lac'd round about with platted wheaten straw,
For which he nothing to the Silke-man owed;
A wearing neuer mention'd in the Law,
And yet far off, like good gold lace it show'd.
Lin'd was his mantle with good Essex plush,
Pyde Calues skins, or Veale sattin, which you will
[Page 178]It neuer was worne threedbare with a brush,
I (naturally) sau'd the labour still.
A h [...]t like Grantham steeple, for the crowne
Or Piramide was large in altitude:
With frugallbrim, whereby he still was knowne
From other men amongst a multitude.
A Princes shooe, he for a iewell wore,
Two ribbonds, and a feather in his beauer,
Which shape me thought I oft had seene before,
Yet out of knowledge where, as't had bin neuer.
He in his hand a flaming torch did hold,
(And as he neerer did approach to me)
My hayre' gan stand on end, feare struck me cold;
Feare not, I am Iohn Garrets ghost, quoth he,
I come to rowze thy dull and lazy Muse
From idlenesse, from Lethe's hatefull lake:
And therefore stand vpon no vaine excuse,
But rise, and to thy tooles thy selfe betake.
Remember me, although my carkasse rot,
Write of me, to me, call me Foole or Iester.
But yet I pray thee ( Taylor) ranke me not,
Among those knaues that doe the world bepester,
Thou wrot'st of great O toole and Coriat,
Of braue Sir Thomas Parsons, Knight o'th Sun,
And Archy hath thy verse to glory at,
And yet for me thou nought ha [...]t euer done.
Write that in Ireland, I in Mars his trayne,
Long time did vnder noble Norris serue:
Where (as I could) I stood'gainst Pope and Spaine,
Whilst some were slain, & some w th want did starue
Where shot, & wounds, & knocks, I gave and tooke,
Vntill at last halfe maimed as I was,
A man decrepit, I those warres forsooke,
And (with my Passe) did to my Country passe.
Where getting health, I then shooke hands with death,
And to the Court I often made resort.
Where Englands mighty Queene Elizabeth
Allow'd me entertainment for disport.
Then by the foretop did I take old time:
Then were not halfe so many fooles as now;
Then was my haruest, and my onely prime,
My purse receiuing what my wit did plow.
Then in such compasse I my iests would hold,
That though I gaue a man a gird or twaine,
All his reuenge would be to giue me gold,
With commendations of my nimble [...]raine.
Thus liu'd I till that gracious Queene deceast,
Who was succeeded by a famous King:
In whose blest Sons reigne (I with yeeres opprest)
Me to my graue, sicknesse and death did bring.
And now (kind Iacke) thou seest my ayrie forme,
Hath shaken off her Iayle of flesh, and bone,
Whilest they remaine the feast of many a worme,
My better part doth visit thee alone.
And as betweene vs still, our good requests,
Thou neuer me, I neuer thee deny'd:
So for my sake collect some merry iests,
Whereby sad time may be with mirth supply'd.
And when 'tis written, find some good man forth,
One (as thou think'st) was when I liu'd my friend:
And though thy lines may be but little worth,
Yet vnto him my duty recommend.
So farewell Iacke, dame Luna' gins to rise,
The twinkling stars begin to borrow light:
Remember this my suit, I thee aduise,
And so once more good honest Iacke good night.
With that more swifter then a shaft from bow,
He cut and curried through the empty ayre,
Whilest I amaz'd with feare, as could as snow,
Straight felt my spirits quickly to repayre.
And though I found it but a dreame indeed,
Yet for his sake of whom I dreamed then,
I left my bed, and cloath'd my selfe with speed,
And presently betooke me to my pen:
Cleere was the morne, and Phoebus lent me light,
And (as it followeth) I began to write.

VVIT AND MIRTH.

(1)

MY selfe caried an old fellow by wa­ter, that had wealth enough to be Deputy of the Ward, and wit suf­ficient for a Scauenger; the water being somewhat rough, hoe was much afraid, and (in stead of saying his prayers,) he threat­ned me, that if I did drowne him, hee would spend a hundred pound, but hee would see me hanged for it; I desired him to be quiet and feare nothing, and so in little space I landed him at the Beanes Colledge on the Bank-side [Page 179] [...]s Paris Garden.) Well (said he) I am glad I am off the water, for if the Boat had miscari­ad, I could haue swum no more then a Goose.

(2)

AN old Painter (at the repairing of a Church) was writing sentences of Scripture vpon the wals, by chance a friend of mine came into the Church, and reading them, percei­ued much false English: Old man, said my friend, Why doe you not write true English? Alas Si [...] (quoth the Painter) they are poore sample people in this Parish, and they wil not goe to the cost of it.

(3)

TWo men being sate at a Table, one against the other: the one of them hauing a cup in has hand dranke to the other, saying, Here Op­ [...] I will drinke to you: Opposite, said the o­ther (being angry) what is that, I would not haue thee put any of thy nicknames vpon me; for thou shalt well know that I am no more opposite then thy selfe, or the skin betweene thy browes?

(4)

A Wealthy Monsieur in France (hauing pro­found reuenues, and a shallow braine) was told by his man that he did continually gape in his sleepe: at which he was angry with his man saying, hee would not beleeue it: his man varified it to be true; his Master said that hee would neuer, beleeue any that told him so except (quoth hee) I chance to see it [...] mine owne eyes: and therefore I will [...] a great Looking-glasse hanged at my [...] [...]eet for the purpose, to try whether thou art a lying knaue or not.

(5)

THe said Monsieur commanded his man to buy him a great Hat with a button in the [...]rim to button it vp behind: his man bought him one & brought him, he put it on his head with the button before, which when he looked [...] the glasse and saw, he was very angry, say­ [...]. [...] crossed vntoward knaue, did I not bid thee buy a hat with the button to hold it vp behind, and thou hast brought me one that turnes vp before: I command thee once more goe thy wayes, and buy mee such a one as I would haue, whatsoeuer it cost me.

(6)

THe same Gallant, as he trauelled, would haue a Goose to his supper; which when she was rosted and brought to the Table, hee said she stunke: not so, I hope, said the Hoste, it cannot be, for I am sute she was aliue since you came into the house: That may be, quoth the Monsieur, but then I am sure that you kild her when she was shiting, shee would neuer stunke so else.

(7)

AN exceeding tall Gentlewoman was riding behinde a very short little man, so that the mans head reached no higher then her breast; which the aforesaid Monsieur perceiuing, said, Madam, you will ride a great deale better, if you put your legge ouer that same pummell of your [...].

Another time he chanced to meet a Lady of his acquaintance, and asked her how shee did, & how her good husband fared; at which word she wept, saying, that her Husband was in heauen; in heauen, quoth he, it is the first time that I heard of it, and I am sorry for it with all my heart.

(8)

ONce the said Monsieur saw a fellow that had a Iack-Daw to sell: Sirra, quoth he, what wilt thou take for thy Daw? Monsieur (said the fellow) the price of my Daw is two French Crownes. Wherefore, said the other, dost thou aske so much for him? the fellow replied, that the Daw could speake French, I­talian, Spanish, Dutch and Latine: all which tongues hee will speake after he is a little ac­quainted in your Lordships house: Well, quoth he, bring thy Daw in, and there is thy money. In conclusion, Iack-Daw (after a mo­neth or fiue weekes time) neuer spake other­wise then his fathers speech Kaw, Kaw, where­at [Page 180] the Monsieur said, that the Knaue had coze­ned him of his money: but it is no great mat­ter there is no losse in it: for, quoth he, though my Daw doe not speak, yet I am in good hope that he thinkes the more.

(9)

ANother time hee commanded his man to buy some sweet thing to burn in his Cham­ber, for (quoth he) my Chamber stinkes most odoriferously. His man brought Frankincense in a paper; and as hee was going for fire, his Master t [...]sted of it, and finding it sticke in his teeth, and rellish very bitter, hee called his man cozening knaue, that would bring him such bitter trash for his money; and straight­wayes commanded him to buy a pound of the best Sugar, and burne it straight to sweeten and persume his Chamber.

(10)

THis Gallant in his youth was much addicted to dicing, and many times when he had lost all his money, then hee would pawne his cloake, and so goe home without either cloak or coyne, which grieued the Lady his mother very much: for remedy whereof, shee caused all his doublets (of what stuffe soeuer) to be made with canuasse painted backes, whereon was fashioned two fooles, which caused the Gentleman euer after to keepe his cloake on his backe, for feare two of the three should be discouered.

(11)

VVIll Backstead the Plaier cast his Cham­ber-lye out of his window in the night, which chanced to light vpon the heads of the watch passing by; who angerly said, Who is that offers vs this abuse? Why, quoth Will, who is there? Who is here, said one of the pickled watchmen, we are the Watch. The Watch, quoth William, why my friends you know, Harme watch, harme catch.

(12)

A Cardinall of Rome had a goodly faire house new built, but the broken brickes, tiles, sand, lime, stones, and such rubbish as are commonly the remnants of such buildings lay confusedly in heapes and scattered here and there: The Cardinall demanded of his Suruayor wherefore the rubbish was not con­ueyed away: The S̄uruayor said, that he pur­posed to hyre an hundred Carts for the pur­pose. The Cardinall replyed, that the charge of Carts might be saued, for a pit might bee digged in the ground and bury it. My Lord, said the Suruayor, I pray you what shall wee doe with the earth which we digge out of the said pit? Why you horseson Coxcombe, said the Cardinall, canst thou not dig the pit deepe enough, and bury all together.

(13)

A Poore Country may praying deuoutly Su­perstitious before an old Image of S. Loy, the Image suddenly fell downe vpon the poore man, and bruised his bones sorely, that hee could not stirre abroad in a moneth after; in which space the cheating Priests had set vp a new Image: the Country man came to the Church againe, and kneeled a farre off, to the new Image, saying, Although thou smilest and lookest faire vpon mee, yet thy father plaid me such a knauish pranke lately, that ile beware how I come too neere thee, lest thou shouldest haue any of thy Fa­thers unhappy qualities.

(14)

A Lady hauing beene ten yeeres in suite of Law, had a triall at last, where the Iudge­ment went on her side; whereupon she would presently expresse her ioy by inuiting some of her neerest tenants and neighbours to supper; amongst whom was a plaine downe-right countrey Yeoman, to whom the Lady said; Tenant, I thinke I haue tickled my Aduersary now, though it were long first, I [...]row hee will make no brags of his medling with mee. The honest Yeoman replyed, Truly Madam I did euer thinke what it would come to at last, for I knew when he first medled with your Lady­ship, that hee had a wrong Sow by the eare.

(15)

ONe asked a fellow what Westminster­Hall was like; marry, quoth the other, it is like a Butl [...]rs Box at Christmas among [...] [Page 181] gamesters, for whosoeuer loseth, the Box will bee sure to bee a winner.

(16)

A Proper Gentlewoman went to speak with a rich Mizer that had more Gowt then good manners, at her taking leaue hee reque­sted her to tast a cup of Cana [...]a: Shee (con­trary to his expectation) tooke him at his word, and thanked him. Hee commanded [...] Starueling his man to wash a glasse, and still it to the Gentlewoman. Honest Ieffrey fil'd a great glasse about the bignesse of two Tay­ [...] thimbles, and gaue it to his master, who list it to saue cost, and gaue it to the Gentle­women, saying that it was good Canara of six yeeres old at the least, to whom shee an­swered, (seeing the quantitie so small) sir, as you requested me, I haue tasted your wine, but I wonder that it should be so little, being of such a great age.

(17)

A Souldier vpon his march found a horse­shooe, and stucke it at his girdle, where passing through a wood, some of the enemy lay in ambush, and one of them discharged his musket, and the shot by fortune light a­gainst the fellowes horse-shooe. A ha, qd. he I perceiue that little armour will serue a [...] turne, if it be put on in the right place.

(18)

ONe being in a Chamber with his friend, looking out at a window, hee saw one ri­ding on a horse in the street, said hee, doe you see that horse? yea qd. then other: then said hee, you may sweare you haue seene the best horse in England: how doe you know that said the other? I know it well, said hee, for it is my horse, and I am sure that hee is the best, and yet I dare sweare that I haue one in my [...]ble worth ten of him.

(19)

AN vnhappy boy that kept his fathes sheepe in the Country, did vse to carry a paire of Cards in his pocket, and meeting with boyes a good as himselfe [...], would fall to Cards at the Cambrian game of whip-her-ginny, or English one and thirty; at which sport, hee would some dayes lose a sheepe or two: for which if his father corrected him, hee (in re­uenge) would driue the sheepe home at night ouer a narrow bridge, where some of them falling besides the bridge, were drowned in the swift brooke. The old man being wearied with his vngracious dealing, complained to a Iustice, thinking to affright him from doing any more the like. In briefe, before the Iustice the youth was brought, where (vsing small re­uerence, and lesse manners) the Iustice said to him, Sirrah, you are a notable villaine, you play at Cards, and lose your fathers theepe at one and thirty. The Boy replied, that it was a lye. A lye quoth the Iustice, you saucy knaue, dost thou giue me the lye? No, qd. the boy I gaue not you the lye, but you told me the lye, for I neuer lost sheepe at one and thirty; for when my game was one and thirty I alwayes wonne. Indeed, said the Iustice, thou saist true, but I haue another accusation against thee, which is, that you driue your fathers sheepe ouer a narrow bride, where some of them are oftentimes drowned: That's a lye too, quoth the boy, for those that go ouer the bridge are well enough, it is onely those that fall beside, which are drowned: Whereto the Iustice said to the boys father, Old man, thou hast brought in two false accusations against thy sonne, for he neuer lost sheepe at one and thirty, nor were there euer any drowned that went ouer the bridge.

(20) A Quiblet.

A Captaine passing through a roome where a woman was driuing a buck of clothes, but he thinking she had been brewing, saw a dish, and dipped some small quantity of the Lye, which he supposing to be mault-wort, dranke vp, & presētly began to sweare, spit, spatter, & spaule: the woman asked him what he ayled, he told her, and called her some scuruy names, saying, he had swallowed Lye; Nay, then I can­not blame you to be angry, for you being a Souidier and a Captaine, it must needs trou­ble your stomacke to swallow the Lye.

(21)

A Country fellow (that had not walked much in streets that were paued) came to London, where a dog came suddenly out of a house, and furiously ran at him the fellow stooped to take vp a stone to cast at the Dog, and finding them all fast rammed or paued in the ground; quoth hee, what strange Coun­try am I in, where the people tye vp the stones, and let the dogs loose.

(22)

AN honest Mayor of a Towne, being all Mercy and no Iustice, louing ease and qui­etnesse, and vnwilling to commit any offence or offender; one said of him that hee was like the herbe Iohn in a pottage por, for that herbe did not giue any taste at all either good or bad, but an excellent colour: so the Mayor did neither good nor harme, but (as an image of a Mayors authority) filled vp the roome.

(23)

A Iustice of the Peace, being angry with a pilsering Knaue, said, Sirrah, if thou dost not mend thy manners, thou wist bee shortly hanged, or else I will bee hanged for thee. The bold knaue replyed, I thanke your worship for that kind offer, and I besee [...]h your worship not to be out of the way when I shall haue occasion to vse you.

(24)

CErtaine Iustices of the Peace being infor­med of the odious abuses daily commit­ted by drunkennesse in their Iurisdictions, did according to their places and duties, meet at a market towne, and sate two dayes, hearing informations, and working reformations: at last, they concluded that the Ale and Beere were too strong, and therefore commanded that from thence forth smaller drinke should bee brewed, whereby these vnruly people might sometimes goe to bed sober. But one mad to spot fellow being much grieued at this order, hauing made himselfe halfe pot-sha­ken, without feare or wit came to the Iusti­ces, and asked them if they had sate two dayes about the brewing of small drinke: to whom one of the Iustices replyed, yes: Why then quoth the drunkard, I pray you sit three daies more to know who shall drinke it, for I will none of it.

(25)

THere was a Scottish Gentleman that had sore eyes, who was counselled by his Phy­sitians to forbeare drinking of wine: but hee said hee neither could nor would forbeare it, maintaining it for the lesser euill, to shut vp the windowes of his body, then to suffer the house to fall downe, through want to repa­rations.

(26)

VPon the death of Queene Elizabeth, there was a Mayor of a Country Towne sitting in consultation with his Brethren: to whom hee grauely said, My Brethren and Neigh­bours, I doe heare that the Queene is dead, wherefore I thought it exceeding fit wee should despaire to this place, that being dis­sembled together, wee might consult of our e­states, for I doubt mee wee shall haue another Queene or a King, and I stand in great feare that the people will be vnrude, so that wee shall bee in danger of strange Resurrection.

(27)

ANother Mayor that was on hunting, (by chance) one asked him how hee liked the Cry: a pox take the Dogs, saith hee, they make such a bawling that I cannot heare the Cry.

(28)

AN old Iustice was fast asleepe on the Bench when a poore Malefactor was iudged to bee hanged; at which word the Iustice sud­denly awaked, and said to the Thiefe, My friend, I pray let this bee a warning to you, looke you doe so no more, for wee doe not show euery man the like fauour.

(29)

AN old Recorder of a Citty in this Land was busie with a Country Mayor, in the [Page 183] [...] space they were interrupted by a fel­low that was brought before him for killing of a man: my Lord asked the fellowes name, who answered, his name was Gilman. Said my Lord, take away G, and thy name is Il­ [...] put K to it, thy name is Kilman, and put [...] [...] and thy name is Spilman, thou art halse log'd already (as the prouerbe sayes:) for thou hast an ill name, let a man vary it how [...] can.

The Mayor all this while stood by musing [...] my Lords canuasing the mans name, and [...]ward being at home among his owne good people, he had an offender brought be­fore him for getting a Wench with child: Master Mayor asked him his name: the fellow said, if it please your worship my name is [...]. Then Master Mayor (striuing to imi­ [...] my Lord) said, take away G and thy name [...] put K to it, it is Kilman, put Sp to [...] and thy name is Spilman, thou art a knaue, thou hast an ill name, and thou shalt bee han­ged, &c.

(30) c. A Quiblet.

MAster Field the Player riding vp Fleet­strees a great pace, a Gentleman called him, and asked him what Play was played that day: hee (being angry to be stayd vpon so fri­ [...]lous a demand) answered, that he might see what Play was to be playd vpon euery Poste. l [...]y you mercy (said the Gentleman) I tooke you for a Poste, you road so fast.

(31)

ONe being long vexed with the spirit of iealousie, came suddenly into his house, and found a man (whom he suspected) some­what too busie with his wife; to whom hee said, Now good fellow I thanke thee, for thou [...] me of a strange hellish torment; my susp [...]ion is cleared, and apparant know­ledge hath giuen mee such ease of heart, that I will be iealous no more.

(32)

A Skilfull Painter was requested to paint out a faire Courtezan (in plaine English, a Whore) I pray you spare that cost, said the Painter, for if shee be a right whore the daily paints her selfe.

(33)

SEigneur Valdrino (pay-master to the Campe of Alphonsus King of Aragon) a man ex­quisite in Courtship and complement; as two or three were at strife laying wagers what Countryman he was; a blunt bold Captaine asked what was the matter: why Captaine, said one, we are laying a wager what Countri­man my Lord Treasurer Valdrino is: Oh said the Captaine, I can tell you that, I am sure he was borne in the land of Promise, for I haue serued the King in his wars these seuen yeeres without pay, and euer when I petition to my Lord, he payes me with no coyne but promi­ses, which makes me halfe assured that hee is that Countryman.

(34)

A Nobleman of France (as hee was riding) met with a yeoman of the Country, to whom he said, My friend I should know thee, I doe remember I haue often seene thee: My good Lord, said the Countriman, I am one of your Honors poore tenants, and my name is T.I. I remember thee better now (said my Lord) there were two brothers of you, but one is dead, I pray which of you doth remaine aliue?

(35)

THe aforesaid Noble man hauing had a Harper that was blinde, playing to him after supper somewhat late, at last hee arose, and commanded one of his seruants to light the Harper downe the staires: to whom the Seruing-man sayd, my Lord, the Harper is blind: thou ignorant knaue, quoth my Lord, he hath the more need of light.

(36)

A Young fellow wisht himselfe the richest Cuckold in England: to whom his mo­ther said very angerly, you foolish couetous boy, why dost thou desire such a wish, hath [Page 184] not thine owne Father enough in store for thee?

(37)

A Whore Rampant, made her husband a Cuckold Dormant, with a front Cressant, surprized by the watch Guardant, brought to the Iustice Passant, with her play-fellow Pen­dant, after a coursie Couchant; the Iustice told her that her offence was haynous, in breaking the bonds of matrimony in that adulterate manner, and that she should consider that her husband was her Head: Good sir, quoth shee, I did euer acknowledge him so; and I hope it is no such great fault in me, for I was but trim­ming, dressing, or ad-horning my Head.

(38)

A Man being very sickly, one said to his wife, I maruell your husband doth not weare a night-cap: Truly (quoth shee) with­in this six monthes that my husband hath bin sicke, although his legges be shrunke, yet hee hath outgrowne all his night-caps.

(39)

A Boy whose mother was noted to be one not ouerloden with honesty, went to seeke his Godfather, and enquiring for him, quoth one to him, Who is thy Godfather? the boy repli'd, his name is goodman Digland the Gar­diner: Oh said the man, if he be thy Godfa­ther he is at the next Alehouse, but I feare thou takest Gods name in vaine.

(40)

A Scholler riding from Cambridge towards London, his horse being tyred (a lazie dis­ease often befalling such hacknies) met a Poste on the way, who notwithstanding he did what he could to make his horse giue him place, by spurre, switch, and bridle, yet the Poste was faine to giue him the way: to whom (in an­ger) he said, Thou paltry fellow, dost thou not see I am a Poste? The Scholler straight re­plyed, And thou ignorant fellow, dost thou not see that I ride vpon a Poste.

(41)

A Fellow hauing more drinke then wit, in [...] winter euening made a foolish vowe, [...] take the wall of as many as hee met betwix [...] the Temple-bar and Charing-crosse; and co [...] ming neere the Sau [...]y, where stood a Poste ali [...] tle distance from the wall: the drunkard took [...] it for a man, and [...] would haue the wall, be [...] ginning to quarrell and giue the Poste fou [...] words: at which a man came by, and asked [...] the matter, and whom he spake to: he answe­red, hee would haue the wall of that fellow [...] that stood so stifly there: my friend, said the other, that is a Poste, you must giue him th [...] way: Is it so, said the fellow, a pox vpon him why did he not blow his horne?

(42)

A Saylor being on a tyred horse, riding from D [...]uer to London, his company prayd him to ride faster: to whom he answered, I can com [...] no faster, doe you not see that I am be calm'd?

(43)

TWo Gentlemen were iesting, and one o [...] them cast away the others hat; but the o­ther catcht his hat off, and put it on his owne head: now fie, fie, quoth the other, thou spoy [...] lest my hat: wherewith, said the other? Mar­ry (said hee that was bareheaded) the [...] spoyle [...] my hat with putting a Calues head into it.

(44) The figure Conuersion.

IF a Vintner doth draw me good wine vpon [...] money or credit, then hee is fitter to draw [...] hang: but if he draw me bad wine for good [...] money, then hee is much fitter to hang then [...] draw.

(45)

A Man hauing beene with a Doctor of Phy­sicke to haue his aduise about some griefe he had; when he came home, his wife asked him what newes? Marry, said he, my Physi­tian doth counsell me to drinke Asses milke eue­ry morning fasting: Why husband, quoth the Woman, I pray you tell me, doth Master Doctor giue sucke?

(46)

[...] and valiant Captaine, whom I could [...] [...] had a scarfe giuen him here in Eng­land, and he sayling ouer into the Low-Coun­ [...] an old Romane Catholike Lady of his acquaintance, was very importunate to beg [...] scarfe of him: the Captaine asked her what [...] would doe with it, and said, it was not [...] for her wearing. Shee answered him, that [...] would giue it her, that Iesus Christ should [...] it in the Church vpon holy daies, mea­ning the Image: Madam, said the Captaine, [...] you will bring me word that euer his father [...] such a scarfe, then I will giue you this for him.

(47)

BEtweene the houres of twelue and one at noone, one asked mee what it was a clock: [...]nswered him, it was little or nothing. Hee demaunded of me what I meant by my an­swer? I reply'd that it being not one of the [...] it was to bee reckned or counted for [...]ought, for that which is lesser then one, is [...] or nothing.

(48)

A Gentlewoman cheapned a Close-stoole in Pa [...]ls Church-yard, and the shop-keeper [...] aske her too much money for it, as shee thought. Why mistris, said hee, I pray you [...]der what a good locke and key it hath: hee replyed, that shee had small vse for ei­ther [...] locke or key, for shee purposed to put no­thing into it, but what shee cared not who [...] out.

(49)

A Countrey woman at an Assize was to take her oath against a party; the said party en­ [...]ted the Iudge that her oath might not bee [...] the Iudge demaunded why he excep­ted against her: my Lord (quoth hee) shee is [...]Recusant or Romane Catholique, and they [...] old it no matter of Conscience to sweare any thing against vs. Come hither woman, said [...] Iudge, I doe not thinke thou art a Recu­sant, I am perswaded that for fourty shillings thou wilt sweare the Pope is a knaue: Good my Lord, said shee, the Pope is a stranger to mee, but if I knew him as well as I know your Lordship, I would sweare for halfe the mony.

(50)

A Cardinall kept a knauish foole for his re­creation, to whom hee said, Sirrah foole, suppose that all the world were dead but thou and I, and that one of vs should be turned to a Horse, and the other of vs to an Asse, say which of these two wouldest thou choose to bee? The foole answered, Sir, you are my Master, and for that respect it is fit that your worship should choose first, and I will be con­tented to take that which you leaue. Why then said the Cardinall, I would bee a horse; no said the foole, let me intreat your worship to bee an Asse, for I would bee an Asse to chuse of all things: why, quoth the Cardinall? mar­ry, said the foole, because that I haue knowne many Asses come to bee Iustices, but I neuer knew any horse come to the like preferment.

(51)

A Graue discreet Gentleman hauing a come­ly wife, whose beauty and free behauiour did draw her honesty into suspition, by whom hee had a sonne almost at mans estate, of very dissolute and wanton carriage. I muse, said one, that a man of such stayd and moderate grauity should haue a sonne of such a contra­ry and froward disposition. Sir, reply'd ano­ther, the reason is that his pate is stuffed with his Mothers wit, that there is no roome for a­ny of his fathers wisedome: besides, the light­nesse of her heeles is gotten into her sonnes braines.

(52)

A Rich Grasier dwelling 150 miles from Ox­ford, hauing a sonne that had seuen yeeres beene a student there, at last sent for him home, to whom hee said; Sonne, I doe heare that you are well practised in the rudiments of learning, but that withall you are addicted to an idle veine of the poore and thredbare art of Poetry: which I charge thee to leaue [Page 186] and auoyd, as thou tendrest my fauour, for my minde is not to haue thee liue beggerly, and dye poorely; yet I will aske thee one Poe­ticall question, which is, Wherefore thinkest thou that so beautifull a creature as Venus, was so besotted to match her selfe with so ill fauo­red a knaue as Vulcan? In truth father, quoth the young man, I can yeeld you no reason for it, but I wonder at it; and yet I doe admire as much wherefore my mother married with you.

(53)

A Man going with his Wife by a deepe ri­uer side, began to talke of Cuckolds, and withall he wisht that euery Cuckold were cast into the riuer: to whom his wife replyes, hus­band I pray you learne to swimme.

(54)

A Man riding through a village with his dog running by him, which dogs name was cal­led Cuckold, leaping and frisking into euery house hee past by where the doore was open: whereupon the man being afraid his dogge would bee lost, cals and whistles, here, here, Cuckold; to whom an old woman said, whom dost thou miscall? I would haue thee know that no Cuckold doth dwell in this house. Good woman, said the man, you mistake mee, I doe call no body but my dog; Now out vp­on thee thou misbeleeuing knaue, said shee, where learnedst thou that manners to call a dog by a christen bodies name.

(55)

A Lusty Miller that in his younger daies had beene much giuen to the flesh and the de­uill; so that not one pretty maid or female ser­uant did or could bring grist to his Mill to be grownd, but the knaue Miller would doe his best to vndermine and blow vp their chastity, and withall hee would bargaine with as many as his temptations ouercame, that at his day of marriage, euery one of them should giue him a Cake. In processe of time the Miller was married, and those aforesaid free-hearted Wenches sent each one their Cakes, to the number of 99. His wife the Bride, who also went for a maid, did muse and aske what was the meaning of so many Cakes? The Miller told her the truth of all without any dissem­bling: to whom his wife answered, If I haue beene so wise in bargaining as you haue beene in your time, the young men of my acquain­tance would haue sent mee 100 cheeses to [...] with your cakes.

This bawdy Miller in a trap was catch,
Not onely married, but most f [...]ly match:
In this the prouerb is approued plaine,
What bread men breake is broke to them againe.

(56)

THere was a faire ship of two hundred [...] lying at the Tower-wharse at London where a Country-man passing by most [...] nestly looked on the said ship, and demande [...] how old shee was: one made answer that she [...] was a yeere old. Good Lord blesse mee, sai [...] the Country-man, is shee so big growne in [...] one yeere, what a greatnesse will shee bee [...] that time shee comes to my age.

This mans blind ignorance I may compare
To Aquavitae giuen to a Mare:
Let each man his owne calling then apply,
No sutor vltra crepidam, Say l.

(57)

TWelue Schollers riding together, one [...] them said, my masters let vs ride faster [...] Why, quoth another, me thinks wee ride [...] good pace, I'l warrant it is foure mile [...] houre. Alas said the first, what is foure mile [...] houre amongst all vs.

Let not man boast of wit or learning deepe,
For ignorance may out of knowledge creepe
Amongst 12 men 4 mile an houre to ride;
He that hath wit, to each his share diuide.

(58)

AN Apprentice in the market did aske the price of an hundred Oysters: his friend perswaded him not to buy them, for they were [Page 187] small; to small reply'd the Prentice, there [...] not much losse in that, for I shall haue the [...] to the hundred.

[...] the bill a measur'd mile it be,
[...] the bill's another mile, I see:
[...] to pay, 4 pence will quit the cost:
[...] hundred, in the shire is lost.

(59)

S [...]e Gentlemen riding together, were in doubt that they were out of their way, [...]herefore they rode a flight shot to an old [...]pheard, one of them enquiring of him if [...] were the way to such a town, and how far [...] was thither. Sir, quoth the Shepheard, that [...] the right way, and you haue sixe miles thi­ther. Quoth one of the Gentlemen, what a [...] old knaue art thou, it cannot be aboue [...] miles: the Shepheard reply'd, Sir, you [...] like a chapman, and you shall haue it for [...] miles, but Ile assure you it shall cost eue­ry one of these Gentlemen sixe miles before They come thither:

[...]rashnesse did the Gallants tongue o'rship,
[...] the Shepheard gaue a pleasing nip:
[...] softest fire doth make the sweetest Mault,
[...]ild repr [...]fes makes rashnesse see his fauls.

(60)

A Man was very angry with his maid, be­cause his eggs were boyled too hard; true­ly, said she, I haue made them [...] boyle a long [...] but the next you haue shall boyle two [...] but they shall be tender enough.

The boyling of this wenches eggs I find,
Much like vnto a greedy mi [...]ers mind:
[...] eggs, the more they boyle are harder still;
The [...] full, too sull, yet wants his fill.

(61)

TWo learned good-fellowes drinking a pipe of Tobacco; it being almost out, that [...] that drunke last did partly feele the ashes to [...] hot to his lippes; giuing the pipe to his friend, said, Ashes to Ashes: the other taking the pipe & (being of a quicke apprehension, threw it out to the dunghill, saying, Earth to earth.

Thus wit with wit agrees like cake and cheese;
Both sides are gainers, neither side doth leese:
Conceit begets conceit, iest, iest doth father,
And butter falne to ground, doth something gather.

(62)

ONe said, a Cittizen was a man all in ear­nest, and in no part like a iest; because the Citizen was neuer bad, or the iest neuer good till they were both broke.

What's one mans yea, may be anothers nay;
The Sun doth sosten wax, and harden clay:
Some Citizens are like to iests, for why,
They'll breake in iest, or bankrupt policy.

(63)

A Gallant with a galloping wit, was moun­ted vpon a running horse toward a town named Tame, within ten miles of Oxford, and riding at full speed, he met an old man, and asked him, Sirrah is this the way to Tame? yes sir, hee replyde, your Horse I'l warrant you, if hee were as wild as the diuell.

This is a ridle to a foole, me thinks,
And seemes to want an Oedipus or Sphinx.
But Reader, in my booke I hold it fit,
To find you lines, you selfe must find you wit.

(64)

A Complementall Courtier that in his French, Italian, and Spanish cringes, con­ges, and courtesies, would bend his body, and bow euery way like a tumbler, a Mercers ser­uant espying his marmositicall Apishnesse, said, Oh if my master could haue bowed but halfe so much, I am certainly perswaded that hee had neuer broke.

Too much of one thing oft proues good for nothing,
And dainties in satiety, breed lothing:
Th'ones flattery mingled with the others pride,
Had seru'd them both, both might liue long vnspide.

(65)

I My selfe gaue a booke to King Iames once in the great Chamber at Whitehall as his Maiesty came from the Chappell, the Duke of Richmond said merrily vnto mee, Tay­lor where did you learne the manners to giue the King a booke and not kneele? My Lord, said I, if it please your Grace, I doe giue now, but when I beg any thing then I will kneele.

Be it to all men by these presents knowne,
Men need not kneele to giue away their owne:
Ile stand vpon my feet when as I giue,
And kneele when as I beg more meanes to liue:
But some by this may vnder stand,
That Courtiers ofiner kneele then stand.

(66)

THe trayned Souldiers of a certaine Shire which I could name, to the number of 6000 as they were mustring and drilling vn­der their seuerall Captaines, a yeomans, sonne being there as a raw souldier in his corslet, his father standing by, said, I vaith it does mee much good at heart to [...] how trim a vellow my zonne is in his hardnesse. The young fellow bearing his fathers commendations of him, began ve­ry desperately to shake his pike, and looking exceeding grim, with a fearefull, horrible, ter­rible countenance, said, O vatber, chad lather nor a groat that all wee bad but one Spaniard here.

One Spaniard mongst 6000, pirty t'were,
Better ten thousand Britains bold were there,
Led by braue Leaders, that might make Spain quake
Like Vere, or Morgan, Essex, Blunt, or Drake.

(67)

ONe said that hee could neuer haue his health in Cambridge, and that if hee had liued there till this time, hee thought in his conscience that hee had dyed seuen yeeres agoe.

I will not say the man that spake so ly'd,
Seuen yeeres agoe, no doubt hee might haue dy'd:
He by his trade perhaps might be a dyer,
And daily dy'd to liue, and bin no lyer.

(68)

A Country fellow was much grieued that he [...] had not gone seuen miles to a marked towne to haue seene the Baboones: Why, sai [...] his wife, it is too farre to goe and come in [...] day to see such bables, especially 'tis too great [...] a iourney on foot. O, quoth hee, I could h [...] gone thither with my neighbour Hobson [...] foot, like a foole as I was, and I might hau [...] rid backe vpon my neighbour Iobsons mare [...] like an asse as I am.

Thus in the preter tense a foole he was,
And in the present tense he is an Asse;
And in the future, foole and asse shall bee,
That goes or rides so far such fights to see.

(69)

THere was a lusty young Scholler preserre [...] to a Benefice in the Country, and common [...] ly on Sundayes and holy-dayes after euening prayer hee would haue a dozen bouts at cud [...] gels with the sturdiest youths in his parish [...] The Bishop of the Diocesse hearing of it, [...] for the parson, telling him that this beseem [...] not his profession and grauity, and if that [...] did not desist from that vnmeet kind of exer­cise, hee would vnbenefice him: Good my Lord, (said the Parson) I beseech you to con­ceiue rightly of mee, and I doubt not but my [...] playing at cudgels will be counted tollerable for I doe it of purpose to edifie the ruder for [...] of my people: How so, said the Bishop; Ma [...] ­ry my Lord (quoth the Parson) whatsoeuer do reach them at morning & euening prayer [...] I doe bear foundly into their heads at cudg [...] afterward, for their better remembrance.

I wish that all the Fencers in our Nation,
Were onely of this Parsons Congregation:
That he his life and doctrine should explaine:
By beating them, whilst they beat him againe.

(70)

A Iudge vpon the Bench did aske as old man [...] how old he was: My Lord, said he, I am [...] eight and fourescore: And why not fourescore and eight, said the Iudge; the other replid, be [...] cause I was eight before I was fourscore. Eight

[...]all men may desery,
[...]eight first contrarily.
[...]if my Boots and Spures, I you beseech,
[...]spures and Boots is rather proper speech.

(71)

[...]Fellow made his boast that hee rode [...]miles with one horse and neuer [...]bit: that may bee (quoth another) per­ [...] you rid him with a halter.

Saies, hee that will sweare will lie,
[...] that will lie will S [...]eale by consequency.
[...]wearers are lyers, lyers most are thieues,
[...]God helpe Taylors, and true Vndershrieues.

(72)

ONe saw a decayed Gentleman in a very [...] [...] bare cloake, said to him, Sir you [...]very watchfull cloake on: Why, said [...] Gentleman? the other answered, I [...]thinke it had a good nap this seuen [...]the Gentleman replyed, and truly sir [...]thinkes you want a nap as well as my [...] for you talke idlely for want of sleepe.

[...]all at Poncrty doth scoffe,
[...]his backe the begger's not sarre off.
[...]with flont, and bob with bob is quitted,
[...] [...] folly finely fitted.

(73)

[...]A Diligent and learned Preacher on a Sun­day [...]in the afternoone was preaching, whi­ [...] [...]most of the zealous Vestry men, (for their [...]er edification) were fast asleepe in their [...]in the meane space a young child cryed [...] aloud at the lower end of the Church which the Preacher hearing, called [...]the Nurse and said, Nurse, I pray thee still [...]childe, or else it may chance to awaken [...] [...]me of the best men in our parish.

[...]it Sermons, sure their braines are adle,
[...]them, and doth rocke the cradle:
[...] [...]iu, 'tis vnderstood,
[...]binders them from doing good.

(74)

A Chorister or singing man at seruice in a Cathedrall Church, was asleepe when all his fellowes were singing, which the Deane espying, sent a boy to him to waken him, and asked him why hee did not sing? hee being suddenly awaked, prayed the boy to thanke master Deane for his kind remembrance, and to toll him, that hee was as merry as those that did sing.

Ther say he's wise that can himselfe keepe warme,
And that the man that sleeps well thinks no barme'
Hee sung not, yet was in a merry mood,
Like Iohn Indifferent, did not harme nor good.

(75)

A Kind of clownish Gentleman had halfe a Brawne sent him against Christimas, hee ve­ry liberally gaue the seruing-man halfe a shil­ling that brought it: the Seruing-man gaue the Porter that carried it eight pence before the Gentlemans face. Sirrah, said hee, are you so prodigall to reward the Porter with eight pence, when I giue you but six pence? thou bearest the mind of a prodigall Gallant, al­though by thy foote thou seemest a lubberly clowne: Good sir, said the fellow, I confesse I haue a very clownish lubberly paire of feet, but yet I am perswaded that a paire of your worships shooes would fit them well.

Here's Bore and Brawne together are well met,
He knew that giuing was no way to get.
The world gets somewhat by the prodigall,
When as the Mizer gets the diuell and all.

(76)

A Griping Extortioner that had beene a ma­ker of beggers for the space of forty yeers, and by raising rents and oppression, had vn­done many families, faics on a time in anger to a poore fellow that had stolne a sheepe of his, Ah villaine, darest thou rob mee, I vow and sweare there is not so damned a rogue in the world as thou: to whom the fellow an­swered, I beseech your good worship remem­ber your selfe, and bee good to mee for Gods [Page 190] sake, and for your owne sake.

This Rascals eye is with a beame so blind,
That in the poore mans hee a moat can find:
The Wolfe himselfe, a temperate feeder deemes;
And euery man too much himselfe esteemes.

(77)

A Seruingman and his mistris was landing at the Whitesryars stayers, the stayers being very bad, a waterman offered to helpe the woman, saying, Giue mee your hand Gentle­woman Ile helpe you: to whom her man re­played, you saucy fellow place your words right, my mistris is no Gentlewoman, shee is a Lady.

All is not gold (they say) that glisters bright,
Snow is not suger, though it looke as white:
And' tis approued to be true and common,
That euery Lady's not a Gentlewoman.

(78)

A Seruingman going in haste in London, (minding his businesse more then his way) a Gallant iustled him from the wall almost in­to the kennell: the fellow turned about, and asked the Gentleman why hee did iustle him so? the Gentleman said, Because hee would not giue the wall to a sancy knaue. The Seruingman replyed, your worship is not of my mind, for I will.

Here Pride that takes Humility in snuffe,
It well encountred with a counterbuffe:
One would not giue the wall vnto a knaue,
The other would, and him the wall he gaue.

(79)

A Iustice of the Peace was very angry with a country yeoman, because hee came not to him at his first sending for him; and after he had [...] [...]ntifully bestowed two or three dozen of knaues vpon him, hee said to him, Sirrah, I will make you know that the proudest sau­cy knaue that dwels vnder my command shall come before mee when I send for him. I be­seech your worship said the man, to pardon mee, for I was afraid: afraid of what said the Iustice? of your worship answered the fellow Of mee said the Iustice? why wast thou afra [...] of mee? Because your worship lookes soli [...] a Lyon, said the man: a Lyon quoth the Iu­stice? when didst thou see a Lyon? may please your worship (the fellow replyde) saw a Butcher bring one but yesterday to [...] brooke market, with a white face, and his four legs bound.

This fellow was a knaue, or foole, or both,
Or else his wit was of but slender growth:
He gaue the white-fac'd Calfe the Lyons stile,
The Iustice was a proper man she while.

(80)

DIuers Gentlemen being merry together [...] at last one of their acquaintance came [...] them (whose name was Sampson) A ha, [...] one of them, now wee may bee securely me [...] [...]ry, no Sergeant or Bailiffe dare touch vs, [...] if a thousand Philistims come, here is Sampson who is able to braine them all: to whoe [...] Sampson replyde, Sir I may boldly venture [...] against so many as you speake of, prouided that you will lend mee one of your law bones. [...]

(81)

TWo Playsterers being at worke for me [...] at my house in Southwarke, did ma [...] times patch and dawbe out part of their day [...] labour with prating, which I being digg [...] in my garden did ouer-heare that their [...] was of their wiues, and how that if I were ab [...] (quoth one) my wife should ride in pomp [...] through London as I saw a Countesse ride) ye­sterday: why quoth the other, how did she ride I pray? Marry, said hee, in state, in [...] Horslitter: O base, quoth the other, Hor slitter I protest as poore a man as I am, I would [...] allowed my wife a three-peny trusse of clean straw.

(82)

SIr Edward Dyer came to the towne on so [...] businesse, iust at the time as the Gate way newly shut, and the Warders going away [...] with the keys, hee looking through the ga [...] called to one of them, saying, Hoe fellow, [...] [Page 191] [...] way thee open the gate and let me in: None [...] your fellow Sir, but a poore knaue: Why [...] said Sir Edward, I pray thee poore knaue [...] me in: nay, no knaue neither, quoth the [...] Warder. Why then said the Knight, hee was [...] that told me so.

(83)

ONe met his friend in the streete, and told him he was very sorroy to see him looke still, asking him what he ailed: hee replyed, that he was now well amended, but hee had [...]eene lately sicke of the Poxe: What Pox, the small pox, said his friend? Nay, 'quoth the o­ther my minde was not so base; for I had the [...]gest pox that I could get for my money.

(84)

AN honest Hostesse of mine at Oxford rosted an old shoulder of a Ram, which in the ea­ [...]ing was as tough as a Buffe Ierkin: I did aske [...] what the reason was that the mutton was [...] tough: She said she knew not, except the [...]cher deceiued her in the age of it, and she would tell him on both sides of his eates, like a [...]eane as he was: Nay, quoth I, I thinke there is another fault in it which will excuse the [...]cher for perhaps you roasted it with old [...] in troth (quoth the hostesse) it is like [...]gh; and my husband neuer doth other­ [...] but buy old stumps and knots which [...] all the meate we either roast or boyle, [...] exceeding tough that no body can eat it.

(85)

ONe hearing a clocke strike three when he thought it was not two, said, this Clocke is like an hypocritical Puritane; for though he will not sweare, yet hee will lye abhomina­bly

(86)

DIcks Tarleton said that hee could compare Queene Elizabeth to nothing more fitly then to a Sculler; for said he, Neither the Queene, nor the Sculler hath a fellow.

(87)

TWo obstinate rich fellowes in Law (that had each of them more money then wit) by chance one of them comming out of West­minster Hall, met with his aduersarid wite, to whom he said, in troth good woman I doe much pitty your case, in that it is your hard fortune that such a foole as your husband should haue so discreet and modest wife. The woman replide, In truth Sir, I doe grieue more, that so honest a wife as you haue, should haue such a wrangling knaue to her husband.

(88)

A Poore labouring man was married and matched to a creature that so much vsed to scold waking, that she had much adoe to re­fraine it sleeping, so that the poore man was so batterfang'd and belabour'd with tongue mettle, that he was weary of his life: at last, foure or fiue women that were his neighbours (pittying his case) came in his absence to his house, to admonish and counsell his wife to a quiet behauiour towards her husband; telling her that she was a shame to all good women, in her bad vsage of so honest a painefull man: the woman replyed to her neighbours, that shee thought her husband did not loue her, which was partly the cause that she was so fro­ward towards him: why (said an old woman) I will shew thee how thou shalt proue that he loues thee dearely; doe thou counterfeit thy selfe dead, and lye vnder the table, and one of vs will fetch thy husband, and he shall finde vs heauy and grieuing for thee? by which mean [...] thou shalt perceiue by his lamentation for thee, how much he loues thee; this counsell was allowed and effected; when the poore man came home, he hearing the matter (being much opprest with griefe) ranne vnder the ta­ble bemoning the happy losle of his most kind vexation, and making as though hee would kisse her, with a most louing embra [...] to make all sure, he brake her necke. The neigh­bours pittying the mans extreame passion, in compassion told him that his wife was not [Page 192] dead, and that all this was done but to make tryall of his loue towards her: whereupon they called her by her name, bidding her to rise, and that shee had fooled it enough with her husband: but for all their calling, shee lay still, which made one of the women to shake and iogge her, at which the woman cri­ed, alas she is dead indeed: why this it is, quoth her husband, to dissemble and counter­fet with God and the world.

(90)

A Planter of a Colledge in Oxford posses­sing some crums of Logicke and chippings of Sophistry, making distribution of bread at the Schollers table, one of the Schollers com­plained vnto him that the bread were dough baked: Why, quoth hee, so it should bee, what else is the definition of bread, but dough baked?

(91)

A Miserable fellow in the country, did once a yeere vse to inuite his neighbours to din­ner, and as they were one time sate, hee bade them welcome, saying, that there was a sur­loyne of beefe, that the Oxe it came from cost 20. pound, and that there was a Capon that he paid 3. shillings 6. pence for, in the market: at which, a country yeoman sitting against the Capon, fell to and cut off a legge of it, (the rest of the guests being not yet past their roast beefe) to whom the man of the house said, My friend, I pray thee eate some of this same sur­loyne: Oh sir, God forbid, quoth the fellow, I am but a poore man, an oxe of 20. pound price is too deare meat, a Capon of halfe a crowne will serue my turne well enough, I thanke you.

(92)

A Rich man told his nephew, that hee had read a booke called Lucius Apulcius, of the golden asse, and that he found there how A­pulcius after he had beene an asse many yeeres, by eating of Roses he did recouer his manly shape againe, and was no more an asse: the young man replied to his vnckle, Sir if I were worthy to aduise you, I would giue you coun­sell to eate a falled of Roses once a weeke your selfe.

(93)

A Fellow hauing beene married but fiu [...] weekes, perceiued his wife to be great with childe, wherefore she desired him to buy [...] cradle: shortly after he went to a Faire and bought ten cradles, and being demanded why he bought so many, he answered, that his wife would haue vse for them all in one yeere.

(94)

A Gentleman vntrust and vnbuttoned in [...] cold winter morning, a friend of his told him that it was not for his health to goe foo [...] pen in the raw weather, and that he mused it did not kill him to goe so oft vntrust: to whom the other replyed, Sir, you are of the mind of my Silkeman, Mercer, or Taylor, for they finde fault as you doe, because I goe so much on trust, but it is a fault I haue naturally from my parents and kindred, and my credi­tors tell me that I doe imitate my betters.

(95)

A Iustice of the Peace committed a fellow to prison, and commanded him away three or foure times, but stil the fellow intrea­ted him. Sirrah (said the Iustice) must I bid you bee gone so many times, and will you not goe? The fellow answered, Sir, if your worship had bidden mee to dinner or supper, I should in my poore manners not to haue ta­ken your offer vnder two or three biddings, therefore I pray you blame me not if I looke for foure biddings to prison.

(96)

A Great man kept a miserable house, so that his seruants did alwaies rise from the table with empty panches, though cleane licked platters: truely, said one of his men, I thinke my Lord will worke miracles shortly, for though he practise not to raise the dead, or dis­possesse the diuell; yet he goes about to feed his great family with nothing.

(97)

ONe said that Bias the Philosopher was the first Bowler; and that euer since the most part of Bowles doe in memory of their origi­nall, weare his badge of remembrance, and very dutifully hold Bias. Now to tell you, this Bias was one of the 7. Sages or Wise-men of Gaeue My authors to proue him the inuenter of Bowling, are Shamrooke, a famous Scithian Gimnosophist in his ninth booke of Rubbing and Running; of which opinion Balductus the Theban Oratour seemes to bee in his third Treatise of Court performances: the likeliest [...]iecture is, that it was deuised as an em­bleme to figure out the worlds folly and vn­constancy; for though a childe will ride a sticke or staffe with an imagination that hee iron horsebacke; or make pyes of dirt, or hou­ses of cards, feed with two spoones, and cry for three pieces of bread and butter, which childish actions are ridiculous to a man: yet this wise game of Bowling doth make the fa­thers surpasse their children in apish toyes and most delicate dogtrickes. As first for the pollures, first, handle your Bowle: secondly, aduance your Bowle: thirdly, charge your Bowle: fourthly, ayme your Bowle: fiftly, discharge your Bowle: sixtly, plye your Bowle: in which last posture of plying your Bowle, you shall perceiue many varieties and [...]inns as wringing of the necke, lifting vp of the shoulders, clapping of the hands, lying dowae of one side, running after the Bowle, making long dutifull scrapes and legs, (some­times bareheaded) entreating him to flee, flee, [...] (with pox on't when 'tis too short:) and though the Bowler bee a Gentleman, yet there hee may meet with attendant rookes, that somtimes will bee his betters six to foure, or two to one I doe not know any thing fitter to bee compared to bowling then wooing, or [...] for if they doe not see one another in two dayes, they will say, Good Lord it is se­uen yeeres since we saw each other, for Louers doe thinke that in absence time sleepeth, and in their presence that hee is in a wild gallop: So a Bowler, although the Allye or marke bee but thirty or forty paces, yet sometimes I haue heard the Bowler cry rub, rub, rub, and sweare and lye that hee was gone an hundred miles, when the bowle hath beene short of the blocke two yards, or that hee was too short a thousand foot, when hee is vpon the head of the Iacke, or ten or twelue foot beyond. In a word, there are many more seuerall postures at bowles, then there are ridiculous idle tales or iests in my booke. Yet are the bowlers ve­ry weake stomackt, for they are euer casting: sometimes they giue the stab, at the alley head, but God be thanked no bloud shed, and some­times they bestow a Pippin one vpon the o­ther, but no good Apple I'l assure you. The marke which they ayme at hath sundry names and epithites, as a Blocke, a Iacke, and a Mi­stris: a Blocke, because of his birth and bree­ding, shewing by his mettle of what house he came; a Iacke, because he being smooth'd and gotten into some handsome shape, forgets the house hee came of, suffering his betters to giue him the often salute whilest hee like Iack sauce neither knowes himselfe, nor will know his superiors. But I hold a Mistresse to be the fittest name for it, for there are some that are commonly termed Mistresses, which are not much better then mine Aunts: and a Mistris is oftentimes a marke for euery knaue to haue a fling at, euery one striues to come so neere her that hee would kisse her: and yet some are short, some wide, and some ouer, and who so doth kisse, it may perhaps sweeten his lips, but I assure him it shall neuer fill his belly, but rather empty his purse. So much for bowling: that I feare mee I haue bowled beyond the marke.

(98)

A Minister riding into the west parts of Eng­land, happened to stay at a village on a Sun­day, where hee offered kindly to bestow a Ser­mon vpon them: which the Constable hea­ring did ask the Minister if he were licēced to preach, yes quoth hee that I am, and with that hee drew out of a box his Licence, which was in Latine; truly said the Constable I vnder­stand no Latine, yet I pray you let mee see it, I perhaps shall picke out heere and there a [Page 194] word: No good sir, quoth the Minister, I will haue no words pickt out of it, for spoyling my Licence.

(99) A Clinch.

A Country man being demanded how such a Riuer was called, that ranne through their Country: hee answered, that they neuer had need to call the Riuer, for it alwayes came without calling.

(100)

A Fellow hauing his booke at the Sessions, was burnt in the hand, and was comman­ded to say, God saue the King: the King, said hee, God saue my Grandam, that taught me to read, I am sure I had bin hanged else.

(101) Atoy to mocke an Ape.

IN Queene Elizabeths dayes there was a fel­low that wore a brooch in his hat, like a tooth drawer, with a Rose and Crowe and two letters: this fellow had a warrant from the Lord Chamberlaine at that time to trauell with an exceeding braue Ape which hee had; whereby hee gat his liuing from time to time at markets and fayres; his Ape did alwayes ride vpon a mastiffe dog and a man with a drum to attend him. It happened that these foure trauellers came to a towne called L [...]e in Cornwall, where the Inne being taken, the drum went about to signifie to the people, that at such an Inne was an Ape of singular vertue and quality, if they pleased to bestow their time and money to see him: now the townsmen being honest labouring Fishers, and other painfull functions, had no leasure to waste either time or coyne in Ape-tricks, so that no audience came to the Inne, to the great griefe of Iack an Apes his master: who colle­cting his wits together, resolued to aduenture to put a tricke vpon the towne, whatsoeuer came of it; whereupon hee tooke pen, inke, and paper, and wrote a warrant to the Mayor of the towne, as followeth.

These are to will and require you, and euery of you with your wiues and familes, that vpon the sight hereof, you make your personall appearance before the Queenes Ape, for it is an Ape of ranke and quality, who is to bee practised through her Ma­iestics dominions, that by his long experience a­mongst her louing subiects, hee may bee the better e­nabled to doe her Maiesty seruice hereafter; and hereof faile you not, as you will answer the contrary. &c.

This warrant being brought to the Mayor, hee sent for a shoomaker at the furthest end of the towne to read it: which when he heard, hee sent for all his brethren, who went with him to the towne Hall to constult vpon this waighty bustnesse. Where after they had sate a quarter of an houre, no man saying anything, nor any man knowing what to say: at last a young man that neuer had borne any office, said, Gentlemen, if I were fit to speake, I thinke (without offence, vnder correction of the worshipfull) that I should soone decide this busi­nesse; to whom the Mayor said, I pray good neighbour speake, for though you neuer did beare any office here, yet you may speake as wisely as some of vs. Then sir, said the young man, my opinion is that this Ape carrier is a gybing scossing Knaue, and one that doth pur­pose to make this towne a iesting mocking stocke throughout the whole Kingdome: for was it euer knowne that a fellow should be so impudent audacious as to send a Warrant without either name or date, to a Mayor of a towne, to the Queenes Lieutenant, and that he with his brethren, their wiues and families, should bee all commanded to come before a Iack-an-Apes? My counsell is that you take him and his Ape, with his man, and his dog, and whip the whole messe or murrinall of them out of the towne, which I thinke will be much for your credit if you doe.

At which words a graue man of the towne being much moued, said, My friend you haue spoken little better then treason, for it is the Queenes Ape, and therefore beware what you say; you say true, said ruaster Mayor, I muse who bad that [...]aucy fellow come into our company, I pray thee my friend depart, I thinke you long to haue vs all hanged. So in [Page 195] briefe hee was put out of the doores, for they were no company for him. Well now what is to bee done in this matter? Marry (said ano­ther Senior) wee see by the Brooch in the mans hat that hee is the Queenes man, and who knowes what power a knaue may haue in the Court, to doe poore men wrong in the Country let vs goe and see the Ape, it is but two pence a peece, and no doubt but it will be well taken, and if it come to the Queenes, eare, [...]hee will thinke vs kinde people that would sew so much duty to to her Ape, what may she thinke wee would doe to her Beares if they come hither? besides, it is aboue 200. miles to London, and if wee should bee complained on and fetched vp with Pursinants, whereas now euery man may escape for his two pence, [...]e warrant it would cost vs ten groats a peece at the least. This counsell passed currant, and all the whole droue of the townsmen, with wiues and children, went to see the Ape, who was sitting on a table with a chaine about his necke, to whom master Mayor (because it was the Queenes Ape) put off his hat, and made a leg, but Iacke let him passe vnregarded, [...]t mistris Mayoresse comming next in her deane linnen held her hands before her belly, and like a woman of good breeding made a low curtsie, whilest Iack (still Court-like) although respected not the man, yet to ex­presse his courtesie to his wife, hee put forth his now towards her and made a mouth, which the women perceiuing, said, Husband I doe thinke in my conscience that the Queenes Ape doth mocke mee: whereat Iacke made a­nother mouth at her, which master Mayor es­pying, was very angry, saying, Sirrah, thou Ape, I doe see thy saucinesse, and if the rest of the courtiers haue no more manners then thou hast, then they haue all bin better fed then taught: and I will make thee know before thou goeft from hence that this woman is my wife, an ancient woman, and a midwife, and one that may bee thy mother for age.

In this rage master Mayor went to the Inne doore, where Iack-an-apes tutor was gathering of money, to whom hee said, Sir, doe you al­low your Ape to abuse my wife? No sir, quoth the other not by any meanes: truly said the Mayor, there is witnesse enough within that haue seene him make mops and mowes at her, as if shee were not worthy to wipe his shooes, and I will not so put it vp, Iacks tutor replyed, Sir, I will presently giue him condigne pu­nishment: and straight hee tooke his Flanders blade, his Whip, and holding his Ape by the chaine, hee gaue him halfe a dozen ierks, which made his teeth daunce in his head like so many Virginall Iackes. Which master Mayor perceiuing, ranne to him, and held his hands, saying, enough, enough, good sir, you haue done like a Gentleman, let mee intreat, you not to giue correction in your wrath: and I pray you and your Ape after the Play is done, to come to my house and sup with mee and my wife.

(102)

This Tale I writ on purpose to sticke in the teeth of my proud, sqeamish, nice, criticall header.

A Country man brought his wiues water to a Physitian, saying, Good morrow to your worship master, Confusion; Physitian thou wouldst say, said the other truly, said the fel­low, I am no scholler, but altogether vnrude, and very ingrum, and I haue here my wiues water in a potle pot, beseeching your master­ship to cast it: So the Physitian tooke the wa­ter, which hauing put into an vrinall and viewed it, hee said, My friend, thy wife is very weake: truly, quoth hee, I thinke shee bee in a presumption: a consumption thou wouldst say, said the Physitian: I told you before (the fellow replyed) that I doe not vnderstand your allegant speeches. Well, quoth the Doctor, doth thy wife keepe her bed? No, truly sir, said hee, shee sold her bed a fortnight since: verily quoth the Doctor shee is very costiue: Costly said the man, your worship sayes true, for I haue spent all that I haue vpon her al­most. Said the Doctor, I doe not say costly but costiue: and I pray thee tell mee, is shee loose or bound? Indeed sir, said the man, shee is bound to mee during her life, and I am bound to her: yea but I pray thee, said the Doctor, tell mee in plaine termes how shee goes to [Page 196] stoole? truly, said the fellow, in plaine termes shee goes to stoole very strangely, for in the morning it is so hard that your Worship can scarce bite it with your teeth, and at night it is so thin that you might eat it with a spoone.

(103)

GOod fellowes hauing well washed their wits in wine at a tauerne, one of them was importunate to bee gone; to whom another of them said, I pray thee be patient, talke no more of going, for if thou wilt sit still but a little, thou shalt find that we shal all be gone, though wee stay here.

(104)

AN Ideot who dwelt with a rich vnckle he had, was by a Courtier begged for a foole, which the foole perceiuing ranne home to his vnckles Parlour which was fairly hung with Tapestry hangings, and in euery one of the hangings was the figure of a foole wrought. So the foole watching his oportunity, that no body was in the Parlour, hee tooke a knife and cut the fooles pictures out of euery hanging and went and hid them in a hay mow, which when his vnckle came in and saw, hee was ve­ry angry, demanded who had spoyled his hangings? Ah nunckle, said the Ideot, I did cut out all the fooles, for there is a great man at Court that hath begged me for a foole, and he would haue all the rich fooles he can heare of, therefore did I cut them all out of your hangings, and I haue hid them where I thinke he will not find them in hast.

(105)

A Fellow being scoulded at by his Wife, would make her beleeue he would drown himselfe; and as hee went toward the ri­uer, his Wife followed him desiring him to forbeare, or at the least to let her speake with him; well, quoth hee, speake briefly, for I am in haste; then husband said shee, seeing you will drowne your selfe let mee intreat you to take my counsell, which is, that you cast not your selfe into this shallow place here, for it will grieue my heart to see how long you will bee a dying: but goe with me a little way [...] and I will shew you a deepe place, where you shall be dispatched presently.

(106)

A Woman in Scotland lay dying, to whom her husband said, Wife now thou art about to leaue mee alone, I pray thee tell me with whom shall I marry. Shee replyed, are you in haste to marry before the breath bee out of my body, then marry the deuils dam: not so [...] wife, said hee, I haue had his daughter already, and if I should match with his mother too, then I should be guilty of incest.

(107)

THere was a Gentleman that was of a very hasty disposition, so that hee would fre [...] and chase almost at all things, and be seldome pleased with any thing, and withall was a great Tobacco taker: and as one time hee beat and kick'd his man, the fellow ran from him, and told one of his fellowes that hee thought his master was transformed into Brawne, for hee was all Choller, and that hee thought the rea­son of his kicking was, because hee dranke Colts-foot among his Tobacco.

(108)

A Doctor of Physicke in Italy asked a water­man if hee might goe well by water ouer the Riuer Po, the fellow told him, yea: but the Doctor when hee came to the water side, and saw it was a little rough weather, was very angry, and said, You Watermen are the veri­est knaues in the world, for to gaine six pence you care not to cast a man away: to whom the Waterman replyed, Sir it appeares wee are men of a cheaper function and better con­science then you; for you sometimes will not cast a man away vnder forty, fifty, or one hun­dred crownes.

(109)

ONe borrowed a cloake of a Gentleman, and met one that knew him, who said, I thinke I know that cloake: it may be so, said the other, I borrowed it of such a Gentleman: [Page 197] the other told him that it was too short: yea, but quoth [...] that had the cloake, I will haue it long enough before I bring it home againe.

(110)

A Poore womans husband was to be hanged at the towne of Lancaster, and on the execu­ [...] [...]ay she intreated the Shrieue to be good [...] her and stand her friend: the Shrieue said that he could doe her no hurt, for her husband was condemned and iudged by the Law, and therefore hee [...] must suffer, Ah good master Shrieue, said the woman, it is not his life that [...] but because I haue farre home, and my [...]e is old and stiffe, therefore I would in­treat you to doe me the fauour to let my hus­band be hanged first.

(111)

ONe came into a Colledge in a Vniuer­sity, and asked how many Fellowes be­longed to the house [...] another replyed, that there were more good fellowes then good [...]llers two to one.

(112)

A Fellow being drunke, was brought before a Iustice, who committed him to prison: and the next day when hee was to be dischar­ged hee was come to the Iustice againe, who [...] to him, Sirrah, you were not drunke the last night: your Worship sayes true, said the know. Yea, but you were drunke, said the Iustice, and you did abuse me, and said I was [...]wise Iustice: the fellow replied, If I said so, I thinke I was drunke indeed, and I cry your Worship mercy, for I will neuer doe you that wrong when I am sober.

(113)

A Spaniard hauing but one eye chanced to meet a man in the field, where drawing both their Rapiers, the other man with an in­fortunate thrust strucke out the other eye of the Spaniard, whereat the blind man sudden­ly castdowne his Rapiers, saying, Buonas noches, which in the Spanish tongue is good night.

(114)

A Reuerend Preacher once reproued his Au [...]ors for sleeping at his Sermons, but [...] said he I pray you do not refrain cōming to Church though you doe sleepe, for God Almighty may chance to take some of you napping.

(115)

A Saylor was absent on a voiage three yeers, in the meane space his wife had a boy of 20. moneths old to entertaine him withall at his returne: the Saylor fa [...]d, Wife, whose childe is this? marry husband (quoth she) it is mine, and God sent, it me in your absence. To which the man replied, I will keepe this child because God sent him, but if God send mee any more on that fashion, he shall keepe them himselfe.

(116)

A Young fellow being newly married, ha­uing bin from home, came suddenly into his house, and found his wife at foule play with another man: the poore young Cuckold ran presently and told his wiues father all the businesse, who replied thus; Sonne I married her mother, and I tell thee plaine that thy wife seemes to bee her daughter in conditions as well as feature, for I haue taken her mother many times in that manner, and no warning would serue her, till in the end age made her leaue it, and so will thy wife doe when shee is old and past it.

(117)

THree Gossips in a Tauerne, chatting ouer a pint of Sherry, said one of them, I muse whereabouts a Cuckolds hornes doe grow; quoth the second, I thinke they doe grow in the pole or nape of the necke; verily, quoth the third, I doe thinke it to bee true, for my husbands bands are alwayes worne out be­hind.

(118)

ONe called a Whore lazy iade, content your selfe, quoth another, as lazy as shee seemes, shee is able to carry a man quicke to the diuell.

(119)

A Company of Neighbours that dwelt all in one rowe in one side of a street, one of them said, Let vs be merry, for it is reported that we are all Cuckolds that dwell on our side of the street (except one) one of the wo­men sate musing, to whom her husband said [Page 198] (wife) what all a mort, Why art thou so sad? no, quoth shee. I am not sad, but I am study­ing which of our neighbours it is that is not a Cuckold.

(120)

A Gentleman being in a house of iniquity, or Couzen-German to a Bawdy-house, the roome being very darke, he called a lowd for a light Huswife; to whom a wench made answer, I come Incontinent.

He cals for light, she vnderstood him right,
For shee was vanity which made her light:
She sayd, she would, Inconcinent attend,
To make her continent, she needs to mend.

(121)

TWo Mayds (or seruants) dwelling in a house together, the one of them hauing occasion to vse a steele, smoothing Iron, or some such kinde of Laundry instrument, and hauing sought it, and not finding it, said to her fellow, thou dost mislay euerything in the house, and art so busie a baggage that thou canst let nothing stand; to which the other an­swered, and you are so wayward and teasty, that a little thing troubles you, and puts you in a great anger.

(122)

IN a time of peace, a Captaine being in com­pany, where after dinner there was dancing, with whom a Gentlewoman was desirous to dance, the Captaine said, hee was made to fight, and not to dance: to whom she answerd, that it were good that he were oyl'd & hang'd vp in an Armoury till there were occasion to vse him.

(123)

ONe asked a huffing Gallant why hee had not a Looking-Glasse in his Chamber; he answered, he durst not, because hee was of­ten angry, and then he look'd so terribly that he was fearefull to looke vpon himselfe.

(124)

THere was a fellow that (not for his good­nesse) was whip'd at a Carts tayle, and in his execution he draw backward, to whom a Gentleman (in pitty) said, Fellow, doe not draw backe, but presse forward, and thy exe­cution and paynes will be the sooner past and done; to whom the Rogue answerd, It is my turne now, when thou art whip'd, doe thou goe as thou wilt, and now I will goe as I please.

(125)

ONe said, that hee had trauaild so farre that he had layd his hand vpon the hole where the winde came forth: a second said, that hee had beene at the farthest edge of the world, and driuen a nayle quite thorow it: the third replide, that he had beene further, for hee was then on the other side of the world, and clencht that nayle.

(126)

THere was a Pope, who being dead, it is said that hee came to heauen gate and knock'd, Saint Peter (being within the gate) asked who was there? The Pope answered, brother it is I, I am the last Pope deceased; Saint Peter said, if thou be the Pope, why dost thou knocke, thou hauing the keyes mayst vn­locke the gate and enter? The Pope replied, saying, that his predecessors had the keyes, but since their time the wards were altered.

(127)

A Rich Miser, being reuiled by a poore man, whom he had oppressed, the rich man said, Thou dogge, leaue thy barking: the poore man answered, that hee had one quality of a good dogge, which was, to barke when hee saw a thiefe.

(128)

A Man being deeply in play at dice, hauing lost much money, his sonne (a little lad) being by him, wept, quoth the father, Boy, why dost thou weepe? the boy answered, that hee had read that Alexander the Great wept when he heard that his father (King Phi­lip) had conquered many Cities, Townes and [Page 199] Territories, fearing that hee would leaue him [...]hing to winne; and I weepe the contrary [...]ay (quoth the boy) for I feare that my fa­ther will leaue me nothing to loose.

(129)

AN Oppressor hauing feld all the trees in a Forest, which for a long time had beene [...]e reliefe of many poore people, sayd, that it was as good as a Commedy to him to see the trees fall, to whom a poore man said, I [...]pe as thou makest a Commedy of our mise­ries, that three of those trees may be reserued [...] [...]ish a Tragedy for thee and thy Chil­dren.

(130)

ONe lamented his friends hard fortune, that being raysed to a place of honour, his growne sencelesse, forgetting all his old [...]milar acquaintance, and so farre from know­ing any man, that he knew not himselfe.

(131)

THe Plough surpasseth the Pike, the Har­row excelleth the Halbert, the Culter ex­ [...]deth the Cuttleaxe, the Goad is better [...] the Gunne; for the one sort are the in­struments of life and profit, and the other are the engines of death, and all kindes of cala­ [...]ries.

(132)

A Poore man is in two extremes: first, if he [...] he dyes with shame; secondly, if he [...] not, he dies with hunger.

(133)

ONe being in office, was reproued for negligence; his excuse was, that it was his best policy to be idle; for if he should doe [...], he should displease God, and if he should [...]e well should offend men: to whom one answered, you ought to doe your duty, for [...] well doing you shall please God, and in ill [...]ing you shall please men.

(134)

VVOmen take great pleasure to be sued to, though they neuer meane to grant.

(135)

ONe said that Suiters in Law were mor­tall, and their suite immortall, and that there is more profit in a quicke deniall, then in a long dispatch.

(136)

A Trauailer was talking what a goodly Ci­ty Rome was, to whom one of the compa­ny said, that all Rome was not in Italy, for wee had too much Rome in England.

(137)

A Countrey fellow came into Westminster Hall, where one told him that the roofe of it was made of Irish wood, and that the na­ture of it was such, that no Spider would come neere it, and he said (further) that in Ireland no Toad, Snake, or Caterpiller can liue, but that the earth or the trees will destroy them: Ah (quoth the Countrey man) I wish with all my heart that the Benches, Barres and Floo­ring were all made of such earth and wood, and that all Coaches, Barges, and Wherries were made of Irish Oake that all our English Caterpillers might be destroyed.

(138)

MAster Thomas Coriat (on a time) com­plained against mee to King Iames, desi­ring his Maiesty that hee would cause some heauy punishment to bee inflicted vpon mee, for abusing him in writing (as he said I had) to whom the King replide, that when the Lords of his honourable Priuy Councell had leisure, and nothing else to doe, then they should heare and determine the differences betwixt Master Coriat the Scholler, and Iohn Taylor the Sculler: which answere of the King, was very acceptable to Master Coriat. Where­upō [Page 200] I made this following petitiō to the King.

TO THE KINGS MOST Excellent Maiestie.

The humble petition of Iohn Tailor your
[...]
[...]
I begge thou wilt be graciously inclined
To reade these lines my rusticke pen compile:
Know (Royall Sir) Tom Coriate workes the wile,
Your high displeasure on my head to bring
[...]
Did heare the cause of two offending Harlots.
So, I beseech thee (Great) great Britaines King,
To doe the like for two contending Varlots
[...]

A Ribble [...]bble of Gossips.

THe space of a [...]orting he from the Bearbai­ting [...] stulted by the right reuerend Matron, madam Isabel that Katherin should go no more a may­ing [...] spoones; now old Sibill all this while sate mumping like a gib Cat, and on the sodaine: she starts vp and thrusts Charity out of doores to take vp her lodging where she could get it well being much offended to see Marget in­ [...] [...] it, and bade her tell Alice that vnlesse she tool [...] heed the pot would run ouer and the fat lye in the fire; at this [...] [...] Now in the heat of all this businesse Bar [...] tels Frances how there is good ale at the labo [...] in vain: the matter being brought to this passe Winisrit saies that her god-daughter [...] newly brought, [...] (God blesse the child) and [...] Constance the Comfit maker wife, at the [...] of the Spiders leg must be [...] dresse to haue taken measure of a payre of Cuffes for her maid Darcas: Now to conclude the [...] [...] [...]ry kindly batled her penny with her at [...] pig. Wel quoth Sara all this winde shakes [...] corne, and I should haue in a starching mistresse [...] toward so good a conclusion, let's [...]en haue th [...] tother pinte before we go, truly saies laue the motion is not to be misliked, what say, [...] [...] I would go [...] [...] [...]

ADOGGE OF VVARRE, OR, The Trauels of Drunkard, the famous Curre of the Round Woollstaple in Westminster. His seruices in the Netherlands, and lately in FRANCE, with his home returne.

The Argument.

AN honest, well-knowing and well-knowne Souldier, (whose name for some Reasons I conceale) dwelt lately in Westminster, in the round Woolstaple, hee was a man onely for Action, but such Action as Loyaltie did alwaies iustifie, either for his Prince, Coun [...]y [...] [...] their Deare and neere Friends or Alltes, in such noble designes he would and did often [...] [...]ch courage, and good Approuement employ himselfe in the Low-Countries, hauing alwaies [...]th him a little blacke Dogge, whom hee called Drunkard; which Curre would (by no [...]es) euer for sake or leaue him. But lately in these French Warres, the Dogge being in the [...] i [...] RHEA, where his, Master (valiantly fighting) was unfortunately slaine, whose [...] was grieu'd for by as many as knew him; and as the Corps lay dead, the poore louing [...]lesse Dogge would not forsake it, vntill an English Souldier pull'd off his Masters Coat, [...] the Dog followed to a Boat, by which meanes became backe to Westminster, where bee [...] remaines. Vpon whose side [...] (for the loue Iowed his deceased Master) I haue writ these [...]ing lines, to expresse my A [...]ction to the Prouerb, Loue me and loue my Hound; [...]e a little rubb'd our Gull [...]gallrnt Roarers ouer the Coxcombes, and withall I haue not [...] our nose-wise Pr [...]eisiant [...] [...] Dog Drunkard doe a little snap at them, I hold it [...] wisest way to be silent and put it vp, but if they will bee maundring, let them expect what [...] [...] [...]

To the Reader.

REader if you expect from hence,
For ouerplus of wit or Sence,
I deale with no such Traffique:
Heroicks and Iambicks I,
My Buskinde Muse hath laid them by,
Pray bee content, with Saphicke.
Drunkard the Dog my Patron is,
And hee doth loue mee well for this,
Whose loue I take for Guerdon;
And hee's a Dog of Mars, his Traine.
Who hath seene men and Harses slaine,
The like was neuer heard on.

A Dogge of VVarre:

STand cleare, my masters ware your shins,
For now to barke my Muse begins,
'Tis of a Dogge, I write now:
Yet let mee tell you for excuse,
That Muse or Dogge, or Dogge or Muse,
Haue no intent to bite now.
In dogg [...] [...] Rimes my Lines are writ,
As for a Dogge I thought it fit,
And fitting best his Carkas.
Had I beene silent as a Stoicke,
Or had I writ in Verse Heroicke,
Then had I beene a Starke A [...].
Old Homer wrot of Frogges and Mice,
And Rablaies wrot of Nittes and Lice.
And Virgill of A Flye.
One wrot the Treatise of the Foxe,
Another praisd the Frenchmans Poxe,
Whose praise was but a Lye.
Great Alexander had a Horse,
A famous Beast of mighty force
Y cleap'd Buco­phatel:
Hee was a stone and flurdi [...] Steed.
And of an ex'lent Race and Breed.
But that concernes not vs.
I lift not write the bable praise
Of Apes, or Owles, or Popinjaies,
Or of the Cat Gr [...]
[Page 227] [...] of a true and trusty Dogge,
Who well could faune, [...] neuer cogge,
His praise my Pen must walke in.
[...]d Drunkard hee is falsely nam'd,
For which that Vice he ne'r was blam'd,
For hee loues not god Ba [...]bus,
The Kitchin he esteems norre deere,
Then Cellers full of Wine or Beare,
Which oftentimes doth wracke vs.
[...]ee is no Mastiffe, huge of him
Or Water-spaniell, that can swim,
For bloud-hound or no Setter:
No Bob-taile [...]yke, or Trandle-taile,
Nor can the Partridge spring or Quaile
[...] yet hee is much better.
[...] Daintie Ladies filling-Hound,
That liue's vpon our [...] Ground,
For Mungrell Cur or Shog:
[...]ould Litters, or whole Kennells dare,
[...]ith honest Drunkard to compare,
My [...], pen writes marry fough.
The Otter Hound, the Foxe Hound, nor
The swift foote Grey-hound car'd hee for,
Nor Cerberus Hells Bandogge;
His seruice prooues them
Curs and Tikes,
[...]d his renowne a terror strikes,
In Water dogge and Land dogge.
Gainst braue Buquoy, or stout Dampiere,
Hee durst haue bark'd withouten feare,
Or 'gainst the hot Count Tilly:
At Bergen Leaguer and Bredha,
Against the Noble Spinola,
He shewd himselfe not silly.
He seru'd his Master at commands,
In the most warlike Netherlands,
In Holand, Zealand, Brabant,
Hee to him still was true and iust,
And if his fare were but a Crust,
Hee patiently would knab on't.
He durst t'haue stood sterne A [...]ax frowne,
When wise Vlisses talk'd him downe
In graue Dubus illis,
When he by cunning prating won
The Armour, from fierce Tellamon,
That longed to Achilles:
Braue Drunkard, oft on Gods deere ground,
Tooke such poore lodging as he found,
In Towne, Field, Campe or cortage
His Bed but cold, his dyet thin,
He oft in that poore case was in,
To want both Meate and Portage.
Two rowes of Teeth for
Armes be bore,
[Page 228]Which in his mouth hee alwaies wore,
Which seru'd to fight and feed too:
His grumbling for his Drum did passe,
And barking (lowd) his Ordnance was,
Which help'd in time of need too.
His Taile his Ensigne hee did make,
Which he would oft display, and shake,
Fast in his Poope vpreared:
His Powder hoc, but somewhat danke,
His Shot in (sent) most dangerous ranke,
Which sometimes made him feared:
Thus hath he long seru'd neere and farre,
Well knowne to be A Dogge of Warre,
Though hee ne'r shot with Musket;
Yet Cannons roare, or Culuerings,
That whizzing through the welkin sings,
He slighted as a Pusse-Cat.
For Guns, nor Drums, nor Trumpets clang,
Nor hunger, cold, nor many a pang,
Could make him leaue his Master:
In ioy, and in aduersitie,
In plentie, and in pouertie,
Hee often was a Taster.
Thus soru'd he on the Belgia Coast,
Yet ne'r was heard to to brag or boast,
Or seruices done by him:
Hee is no Pharisey to blow
A Trumpet, his good deedes to show,
'Tis pitty to be [...]ie him.
At last hee home return'd in peace,
Till warres, and iarres, and scarres increase
Twixt vs, and France, in malice:
Away went hee and crost the Sea,
With's Master, to the Isle of Rhea,
A good way beyond Callice.
Hee was so true, so good, so kinde,
He scornd to stay at home behinde,
And leaue his Master frustrate;
For which, could I like Ouid write,
Or else like Virgill could endite,
I would his praise illustrate.
I wish my hands could neuer stirre,
But I do loue a thankfull Curre,
More than a Man ingratefull:
And this poore dogges fidelity,
May make a thanklesse Knaue discry,
How much that vice is hatefull.
For why, of all the faults of Men,
Which they haue got from Hels blacke den,
Ingratitude the worst is:
For treasons, murthers, incests, rapes,
Nor any sinne in any shapes,
[...] nor so accurst is.
[...]ope I shall no [...]ger gaine,
[...]doe write a word, or twaine,
[...]ow this dogge was distressed:
[...] master being wounded dead,
[...], cut and slash'd, from heele to head,
[...]ke how he was oppressed,
[...] o lose him that he loued most,
[...] be vpon a forreigne Coast,
Where no man would relieue him:
He lick'd his Masters wounds in loue,
[...]d from his Carkas would not moue,
Although the sight did grieue him.
By chance a Soudier passing by,
That did his masters Coate espy,
[...]d quicke away he tooke it;
[...]t Drunkard followed to a Boate,
To haue again his Masters Coate.
[...]ch theft hee could not brooke it.
[...]o after all his woe and wracke,
To Vistminster he was brought backe,
[...] poore halfe starued Creature;
And in remembrance of his cares,
Vpon his backe hee dosely weares,
A Mourning Coate by nature.
Liue Drunkard, sober,
Drunkard liue,
I know thou no offence wlt giue,
Thou art a harmles dumb thing;
And for thy loue I'le freely grant,
Rather then thou shouldst euer want,
Each day to giue thee something.
For thou hast got a good report,
Of which ther's many a Dog comes short,
And very few Men, gaine it;
Though they all dangers brauely bide,
And watch, fast, fight, runne, goe and rde,
Yet hardly they attaine it.
Some like Dominicall Letters goe,
In Scarlet from the top to toe.
Whose valours talke and smoake all.
Who make (God sink'em) their discourse.
Refuse, Renounce, or Dam, that's worse,
I wish a halter choake all.
Yet all their talke is Bastinado,
Strong Armado Hot Scalado,
Smoaking Trinidado
Of Canuasado, Pallizado
Of the secret Ambuscado,
Boasting with Brauado.
If Swearing could but make a Man,
Then each of these is one that can
[Page 230]With oathes, an Army scatter:
If Oathes could conquer Fort, or Hold,
Then I presume these Gallants could
With Braggs, a Castle batter.
Let such but thinke on Drunkards fame,
And note therewith their merits blame,
How both are vniuersall;
Then would such Coxcombs blush to see
They by a dog outstrip'd should be,
Whose praise is worth rehearsall.
The times now full of danger are,
And we are round ingadg'd in warre,
Our foes would faine distresse vs:
Yet may a stubborne mizer knaue,
Will giue no Coyne his
Throat to saue,
If he were stor'd like Craesus.
These hide-bound Varlets, worse then Turkes,
Top full with Faith, but no Good workes,
A crew of fond Precise-men;
In factions, and in emulation,
Caterpillers of a Nation,
Whom few esteeme. for wise men.
But leauing such to mend, or end:
Backe to the Dogge my Verse doth bend,
Whose worth, the subiect mine is:
Though thou a doggs life heere dost lead,
Let not a doggs death strike thee dead:
And make thy fatall Finis.
Thou shalt be Stelliside by mee,
I'le make the Dog-star waite on thee,
And in his toome I'le seat thee:
When Soll doth in his Progresse swinge,
And in the Dogge-dayes hotly singe,
Hee shall not ouer heate thee.
So honest Drunkard now adue,
Thy praise no longer I'le pursue,
But still my loue is to thee:
And when thy life is gon and spent,
These Lines shall be thy Monument,
And shall much seruice doe thee.
I lou'd thy master, so did all
That knew him, great and small,
And he did well deserue it:
For hee was honest, valiant, good,
And one that manhood vnderstood,
And did till death preserue it:
For wose sake, I'le his Dog prefer,
And at the Dogge at Westminster,
Shall Drunkard be a Bencher;
Where I will set a worke his chaps,
Not with bare bones, or broken scraps,
But Victualls from my Trencher.
All those my Lines that Illdigast,
Or madly doe my meaning wrest,
In malice, or derision:
Kinde Drunkard, prethee bite them all,
And make them reele from wall to wall,
With Wine, or Maults incision.
I know when foes did fight or parle,
Thou valiantly wouldest grin and snarle,
Against an Army aduerse;
Which made me bold, with rusticke Pen,
Stray heere and there, and backe agen,
To blaze thy fame in mad Verse.
It was no Auaritious scope,
Or flattrie, or than windie hope
Of any fee, or stipend:
For none, nor yet for all of these,
But only my poore selfe to please,
This mighty Volume I Pen'd
ANNO.
This Series writ the day and yeare,
That Seacoales were exceeding deare.

THus the old Prouerbe is fulfilled, A Dogge shall haue his day: And this Dogge hath not out liu'd his Reputation, but (to the perpe­tuall renowne of himselfe, and good example of his owne begotten Puppies) hee hath his bright day of Fame perspicuously shining.

I read in Anthony Gueuaroa his Golden Epi­stles, that the Great Alexander buried his Horse; that the Emperour Augustus made a stately Mo­nument for his Parrot: and that Heliogabalus did embaulme and intombe his Sparrow. Happy were those Creatures in dying before their Masters: I could with all my heart haue beene glad that Drunkards fortune had been the like, vpon the condition that I had payd for his Bu­riall.

But to speake a little of the nature of Beasts, and of the seruice and fidelitie of Dogges to­ward their Masters: Quintus Curtius writes, that the Elephant whereon Porus the Indian King road in the Battle against Alexander, when the King was beaten down to the ground, that the Elephant drew his Master with his Trunke out of the danger of the Fight, and so sau'd him

A Groome of the Chamber to French King Francis the first, was murdered in the Forrest of Fountein Bellcau, but the said Groome had a Dogge, who afterward (in the presence of the King and all the Court) did teare the Murde­rer in peeces.

Amongst the Wattermen at the Black-Friers, there lately was a little Bitch that Whelped or Litter'd in the Lane vnder a bench, the Men perceiued that she had more Puppies then she could sustaine, did take three of them and cast them into the Thames, (the water being high) but the next day, when the water was ebd a­way, the Bitch went downe the staires, and found her three drouned Puppies, when pre­sently she dig'd a deepe pit in the ground, and drew them into it one after an other, and then scrap'd the grauell vpon them and so hid them.

I could produce and relate many of these ex­amples and accidents, but they are so frequent and familiar, that almost euery man hath ei­ther known or hard of the like. But chiefely for the Dogge, he is in repuest aboue all Beasts, and by and from Dogges our Separatists aud Amsterdamians, and our Precise despisers of all honest and laudable Recreations may see their errors: For of all the Creatures, there are most diuersity [Page 232] in the shapes and formes of Dogges; of all which, there are but two sorts that are vsefull for Mans profit, which two are the Mastiffe, and the little Curre, Whippet, or House­dogge; all the rest are for pleasure and recrea­tion; so likewise is the Mastiffe for Beare and Bull: But the Water-spaniell, Land-spaniell, Grey-hound, Fox-hound, Buck-hound, Blood­hound, Otter-hound, Setter, Tumbler, with Shough and Dainty, my Ladies delicate Fisting hound; all these are for pleasure: by which wee may perceiue that Man is allowed lawfull and honest recreation, or else these Dogges had neuer bin made for such vses.

But many pretty ridiculous aspersions are cast vpon Dogges, so that it would make a Dogge laugh to heare and vnderstand them As I haue heard a Man say, I am as hot as a Dogge, or, as cold as a Dogge; I sweat like a Dogge, (when indeed a Dog neuer sweates,) as drunke as a Dogge, hee swore like a Dogge: and one told a Man once, That his Wife was not to be beleeu'd, for shee would lye like a Dogge; marry (quoth the other) I would giue twelue pence to see that trick, for I haue seene a Dogge to lye with his Nose in his Tayle.

FINIS.

The VVorld runnes on wheeles: OR, Oddes betwixt Carts and Coaches.

The meaning of the Embleme.
THe Diuell, the Flesh, the World doth Man oppose,
And are his mighty and his mortall foes:
The Diuell and the whorish Flesh drawes still.
The World on wheeles runnes after with good will.
For that which we the World may iustly call,
(I meane the lower Globe Terrestriall)
Is (as the Diuell, and a Whore doth please)
Drawne here and there, and euerie where, with ease.
Those that their Liues to vertue here doe frame,
Are in the World, but yet not of the same.
[Page 233]Some such there are, whom neither Flesh or Diuell
Can wilfully drawe on to any euill:
But for the World, as 'tis the World, you see,
It [...] on wheeles, and who the Palfreys be.
Which Embleme to the Reader doth display,
The Diuell and Flesh runne swift away.
The Chain'd ensnared World doth follow fast,
Till All into Perditions pit be cast.
The Picture topsie-turuie stands h [...]wwaw:
The World turn'd vpside downe, as all men know

TO The Noble Company of Cordwainers, the worshipfull Company of Sadlers and Woodmongers: To the worthy, honest and laudable Com­pany of Watermen; And to the Sacred Societie of Hackney-men; And finally, to as many as are grieued and vniustly impouerished, and molested with the Worlds running on Wheeles.

GEntlemen and Yeomen, maruell not that I write this Pamphlet in Prose now, ha­uing beforetimes set forth so many Bookes in Verse: The first reason that moued me to write thus, was because I was Lame, and durst not write Verses, for seare they should be infected with my Griefe, and be lame too. The Second Reason is, because that I finde no good rime for a Coach, but Broach, Roach, Encroach, or such like. And you know that the Coach hath ouer-throwne the good vse of the Broach and Broach-turner, turning the one to Rackes, and the other to Iackes, quite through the Kingdome. The Roach is a dry bish, much like the vn­profitable profit of a Coach; it will cost more the dressing and appurtenances then tis worth. For the word Encroach, I thinke that best befits it, for I think neuer such an impudent proud, sa [...]cie Intruder or Encroacher came into the world as a Coach is; for it hath driuen many honest Families out of their Houses, many Knights to Beggers, Corporations to pouerty, Almes­d [...]sd [...]s [...] to all misdeedes, Hospitality to extortion, Plenty to famine, Humility to pride, Compas­sion to oppression, and all Earthly goodnes almost to an vtter confusion.

These haue beene the causes why I writ this Booke in Prose, and Dedicated it to all your good Companies, knowing that you haue borne a heauie share in the Calamitie which these hyred Hackney bell-Carts haue put this Common-wealth vnto; For in all my whole Discourse, I doe not enueigh against any Coaches that belong to persons of worth or qualitie, but onely a­gainst the Carter piller swarme of hyrelings; they haue vndone my poore Trade, whereof I am in Member, and though I look for no reformation yet I expect the benefit of an old prouerbe, (Giue the losers leaue to speake.) I haue imbroadered it with mirth, Quilted it with materiall stuffe, Lac'd it with similitudes; Sowed it with comparisons, and in a word, so plaid the Taylor with it, that I think it will fit the wearing of any honest mans Reading, attention, and liking; But howsoeuer, I leaue both it and my selfe to remaine.

Yours as you are mine, Iohn Taylor.

The VVorld runnes on VVheeles.

WHat a Murraine, what piece of worke haue we here? The World runs a wheeles? On my Conscience my Dungcart will be most vnsa­uorly offended with it: I haue heard the words often, The World runs on Wheeles; what like Pompeies Bridg at Ostend? The great Gridyron in Christ-church, The Landskips of China, or the new found Instrument that goes by winding vp like a Iacke, that a Gentle­man entreated a Musitian to Rost him Seliengers Round vpon it? Ha! how can you make this good Master Poet? I haue heard that the World stands stock still, and neuer stirres, but at an Earth-quake; and then it trembles at the wic­kednes of the Inhabitants, and like an old Mo­ther, groanes vnder the misery of her vngraci­ous Children: well, I will buy this volume of inuention for my Boyes to reade at home in an Euening when they come from Schoole, there may be some goodnes in it: I promise you truly I haue found in some of these Books very shrewd Items; yea, and by your leaue, somewhat is found in them now and then, which the wisest of vs all may be the better for: though you call them Pamphlets, to tell you true, I like em better that are plaine and mer­rily written to a good intent, then those who are purposely stuffed and studyed, to deceiue the world, and vndo & Country, That tells vs of Proiects beyond the Moone, of Golden Mines, of Deuices to make the Thames run on the North side of London (which may very easily be done, by remouing London to the Banke-side) of planting the Ile of Dogs with Whiblins, Cor­whichets, Mushromes and Tobacco. Tut I like none of these, Let mee see, as I take it, it is an inuectiue against Coaches, or a proofe or tryall of the Antiquitie of Carts and Coaches: Tis so, and Gods blessing light on his hart that wrote it, for I thinke neuer since Pheton brake his necke, neuer Land hath endured more trouble and molestation then this hath, by the conti­nuall rumbling of these vpstart 4. wheel'd To [...] ­toyses, as you may perhaps find anone: For as concerning the Antiquity of the Cart, I thinke it beyond the limmits of Record or writing. Besides, it hath a Reference or allusion to the Motion of the Heauens, which turnes vpon the Equinoctiall Axeltree, the two wheeles being the Articke and Antarticke Poles. Moreouer, though it be poetically feined, that the Sunne (whom I could haue called Phoebus, Tytan, A­pollo, Sok, or Hiperion) is drawn by his foure ho [...] and headstrong Horses (whose names as I take it are) AEolus, AEthon, Phlegon, and Pyrois: Yet doe I not finde that Triumphant, Refulgent extinguisher of darknes is Coach'd, but that hee is continully carted through the twelue signes of the Zodiaque.

And of Copernicus his opinion were to bee allowed, that the Firmament with the Orbes and Planets did stand vnmoueable, and that on­ly the Terrestriall Globe turnes round daily, according to the motion of Time, yet could the World haue no resemblance of a foure­wheel'd Coach; but in all reason it must whir [...] round but vpon one Axeltree, like a two­wheelde Cart.

Nor can the searching eye, or most admira­ble Art of Astronomie, euer yet finde, that a Coach could attaine to that high exaltation of honour, as to be placed in the Firmament: It is apparantly seen, that Charles his Cart (which we by custome call Charles his Waine) is most glo­riously stellifide, where in the large Circumfe­rence of Heauen, it is a most vsefull and benefi­ciall Sea-marke (and somtimes a Land-marke too) guiding and directing in the right way, such as trauaile on Neptunos waylesse Bosome, and many which are often benighted in wilde and desert passages, as my selfe can witnesse [Page 235] vpon New market heath, where if that good [...] had not Carted me to my Lodging, I and my Horse might haue wandred, I know not whither.

Moreouer, as Man is the most noblest of all Creatures; and all foure-footed Beasts are or­dayned for his vse and seruice; so a Cart is the Embleme of a Man, and a Coach is the Figure of a Beast; For as Man hath two legges, a Cart h [...]h two wheeles: The Coach being (in the like [...]) the true resemblance of a Beast, by which is parabolically demonstrated vnto vs, that as much as Men are superior to Beasts, so much are honest and needfull Carts more nobly to be regarded esteemed, aboue needlesse, vpstart, [...]sticall, and Time troubling Coaches.

And as necessities and things, whose com­modious vses cannot be wanted, are to be re­spected before Toyes and trifles (whose begin­ning is Folly, continuance Pride, and whose end is Ruine) I say as necessity is to be prefer­red before superfluity, so is the Cart before the Coach; For Stones, Timber, Corne, Wine, [...]eete or any thing that wants life, there is a [...] they should be carried, because they are dead things and cannot goe on foot, which necessity the honest Cart doth supply: But the coach, like a superfluous bable, or vncharitable [...]er doth seldom or neuer carry or help any [...]ead or helplesse thing, but on the contrary, it helps those that can help themselues (like Scog­ [...] when he greazd the fat Sow on the Butt­ [...] and carries men and women, who are a­ [...] goe or run [...] Ergo the Cart is necessary, and the Coach superfluous.

Besides I am verily perswaded, that the [...]est Coxcombe that euer was iolted in a [...], will not [...]e so impudent but will con­ [...] that humility is to be preferred before [...] which being granted, note the affa [...]ility [...] low lines of the Cart, and the pride and in­ [...]lency of the Coach; For the carman humbly [...] it on foot as his Beast doth, whilest the [...] is mounted (his fellow-horses and himselfe being all in a Liuery) with as many [...]ieties of Laces facings, Cloth and Colours [...] [...] in the R [...]nebowe like a Motion or Pa­ [...] rides in state and loades the poure Beast, which the carman doth not, and if the Carmans horse bee melancholly or dull with hard and heauy labour, then will he like a kinde Piper, whistle him a fit of mirth, to any tune from a­boue Eela, to below Gammoth, of which gene­rositie and courtesie your coachman is altoge­ther ignorant: for he neuer whistles, but all his musicke is to rappe out an oath, or blurt out a curse against his Teeme.

The word carmen (as I find it in the Dictiona­ry, doth signifie a Verse, or a Song, and betwixt Carmen and Carmen, there is some good cor­respondency, for Versing, Singing, and Whist­ling, are all three Musicall: besides, the Cart­horse is a more learned beast then the Coach­horse: for scarse any Coachhorse in the world doth know any letter in the Booke, when as euery Carthorse doth know the letter G, very vnderstandingly.

If Adultery or Fornication bee committed in a Coach, it may be grauely and discreetly pu­nished in a Cart, for as by this meanes the coach may be a running Bawdy-house of abominati­on, so the Cart may, and often is the sober, mo­dest, and ciuill pac'd Instrument of Reforma­tion: so as the Coach may be vices infection, the Cart often is vices correction.

It was a time of famous memorable misery, when the Danes had tyrannicall insulting do­mination in this land: for the slauery of the English was so insupportable, that hee must Plow, Sow, Reape, Thrash, Winnow, Grinde, Sift, Leauen, Knead, and Bake, and the domi­neering Dane would doe nothing but sleepe, play, and eate the fruit of the Englishmans la­bour, which well may bee alluded to the care­full Cars; for let it plough, carry and re-carry, early or late, all times & weathers, yet the hun­gry Coach gnawes him to the very bones. Oh beware of a Coach, as you would doe of a Ty­ger, a Wolf, or a Leuiathan: Ile assure you, it eats more (though it drinkes lesse) then the Coach­man and his whole Teeme; it hath a mouth ga­ping on each side, like a monster, with which they haue swallowed all the good housekee­ping in England. It lately (like a most insati­able deuouring Beast) did eate vp a Knight, a neighbour of mine, in the County of N. a [Page 236] Wood of aboue 400. Akers, as if it had beene but a bunch of Radish: of another, it deuoured a whole Castle, as it had beene a Marchpane, scarcely allowing the Knight and his Lady halfe a cold shoulder of Mutton to their sup­pers on a Thursday night; out of which reuer­sion the Coachman and the Footeman could pick but hungry Vailes: in another place (pas­sing through a Parke) it could not be content to eate vp all the Deere, and other grazing Cat­ [...]ell, but it bitvp all the Oakes that stood bare­headed, there to doe homage to their Lord and Maister euer since the conquest, crushing their olde sides, as easily as one of our fine Daines (with a poysoned breath) will snap a Cinamon stick; or with as much facility, as a Bewde will eate a Pipin Tart, or swallow a [...]ewed Pruine.

For (what call you the Towne) where the great Oysters come from? there it hath eaten vp a Church, Chauncell, Steeple, Bells and all, and it threatens a great Common that lyes neere, which in diebus illis hath relieued thou­sands of poore people; may, so hungry it is, that it will scarcely endure, in a Gentlemans house a poore neighbours childe so much as to turne a Spit; nor a Yeomans sonne to enter the house, though but in good will to the Cham­ber maide, who anciently from 16. to 36. was wont to haue his breeding either in the Bur­try, or Celler, Stable, or Larder, and to bid good man Hobs good wife Grub, or the youth of the parish welcome at a Christmas time; but those dates are gone, and their fellowes are neuer like to be seene about any of our to gal­lime houses. There was a Knight (an acquain­ [...]ce of mine) whoseh wole means in the world was but three score pounds a yeere, and aboue 20. of the same went for his Wiues coach- [...]; now (perhaps) you shall haue an Irish footman with a [...]acket eudgeld down the shoulders and skirs, with yellow or orenge t [...]wny Lace may [...]t from London 3. or 4. score miles to one of there decayed Mansions, when the sim [...]ring scornfull Passe, the supposed [...] of the house (with a mischiefe) who is indeed, a kinde of creature retired for a while into the Countrey to escape the whip in the City, [...]hee demands out of the window scarce ready, and dressing herselfe, in a glasse at noone: Fellow; what is thine Errand, hast thou letters to me? And if it be about dinner, a man may sooner blow vp the gates of Bergen [...]p Zome with a Charme, then get entrance, within the bounds of their Barr'd, Bolted, and Barracadoed Wicket: A­bout two of Clocke, it may bee walking an house or twaine, Sir Sella [...] comes downe vn­trust, with a Pipe of Tobacco in his fist, to know your businesse, hauing first peeped thorow a broken pane of Glasse, to see whether you come to demand any money, or old debt, or not, when after a few hollow dry complements (without drinke he turnes you out at the gate, his worshippe, returning to his Stoue? What Townes are laide waste? what fields lye vn­tilled? what goodly houses are turn'd to the habitations of Howlets, Daives, and Hobg [...]? what numbers of poore are increased? yea, examine this last yeere but the Register books or buria [...] of our gred [...]est Townes and Pari [...] of the land, as Winondham in Norfolke; W [...] Chappell neere Ev [...]don, and many other, and see how many haue beene buried weekely that haue meerely perished for want of brea [...]; wh [...] Pride and Luxury dam vp our streetes [...] Barracado our high waies, and are ready e­uen to driue ouer their Graues, whom their vnmercifull Pride hath fami [...]hed.

Whence come Leather to be so deare, but by reason (or as I should say against reason) [...] the multitude of Coaches, and Cor [...]o [...] who consume and take vp the best Hides [...] can be gotten in our Kingdome, [...] that I cannot buy a paire of Boots for my [...] vnder an Angell, nor my Wife a pa [...] of Shooes (though her foote be vnder the [...] vnder eight roates of three [...] by which meanes, many honest shoo [...] are either vndone, or vndoing and [...] numbers of poore Christians are enforced [...] got [...]are footed in the cold Winters, till [...] very be [...]mme [...]nesse, some their to [...], [...] [...] their fee [...] [...] rotted off, to the [...] lesse increases of crooked Cripples, [...] woodden [...] beggers, of which sort of [...] [...] wretches, euery stre [...] [Page 237] ple [...]ifully stored with, to the scorne of other [...]ions, and the shame and obloquy of our [...]ne.

The Saddlers (being an ancient, a worthy and a vsefull Company) they haue almost ouer­throwne the whole Trade, to the vndoing of [...]ny honest families; For whereas within our memories, our Nobility and Gentry would [...]ide [...] well mounted (and sometimes walke on [...]) gallantly attended with three or foure­ [...]ore braue fellowes in blue coates, which was a glory to our Nation; and gaue more [...] to the beholders, then forty of your Leather tumbrels: Then men preseru'd their bodies strong and able by walking, riding, and other manly exercises: Then Saddle [...]s were a good Trade, and the name of a Coach was Heathen Greek. Who euer saw (but vpon [...]traordinary occasions) Sir Philip Sidney, Sir [...]is Drake, Sir Iohn Norris, Sir William [...] Sir Roger Williams, or (whom I should [...]e nam'd first) the famous Lord Gray, and [...]ghby, with the renowned George Earle of Camberland, or Robert Earle of Essex? These so [...]es of Mars, who in their times were the glorious Brooches of our Nation, and admi­rable terrour to our Enemies: these I say, did [...]e small vses of Coaches, and there were [...]o mayne reasons for it, the one was, that there were but few Coaches in most of their [...]nes [...] and the second reason is, they were [...]lly foes to all sloth and effeminacy: The [...] was Sir Francis Vere, with thousands o­thers: but what should I talke further? This is the tarrling, rowling, rumbling age, and The VVorld runs on VVheeles. The hackney-men, who were wont to haue furnished Trauellers [...] all places, with fitting and seruiceable hor­ses for any iourney, (by the multitude of Coa­ [...] [...] vndone by the dozens, and the whole Common-wealth most abominably iaded, [...]in many places a man had as good to ride vpon a woodden post, as to poast it vpō one of [...] hunger-staru'd hirelings: which enormi­ [...] can be imputed to nothing, but the Coa­ [...] [...]sion, is the Hackneymans confusion. Nor haue we poore Water-men the least [...] to complaine against this infernall swarm of Trade-spillers, who like the Gras­hoppers, or Caterpiller's of Egypt, haue so ouerrun the land, that we can get no liuing vpon the water; for I dare truely affirme, that euery day in any Tearme (especially if the Court be at VVhitchall) they do rob vs of our liuings, and carry Fiue hundred sixty fares daily from vs; which numbers of passengers were wont to supply our necessities, and enable vs sufficient­ly with meanes to doe our Prince and Coun­trey seruice: and all the whole fry of our fa­mous whores, whose ancient Lodgings were neere S. Katherines, the Bankeside, La [...]nbeth­Marsh, Westminster, VVhite Fryers, Coleharbor, or any other place neer the Thames, who were wont after they had any good Trading, or rea­sonable commings in, to take a Boate and aire themselues vpon the water, (yea, and by your leaue) be very liberall too, & I say, as a Mercer said once, A whores mony is as good as a La­dies, and a bawdes as currant as a Midwiues. Tush, those times are past, and our Hackney Coaches haue hurried al our hackney customers quite out of our [...]each, toward the North parts of the City, where they are daily practi­sed in the Coach, that by often iolting they may the better endure the Cart vpon any oc­casion, and indeed, many times a hired Coach­man with a basket-hilted blade hang'd or exe­cuted about his shoulders in a belt, (with a cloake of some pide colour, with two or three change of Laces about) may manne a brace or a Leash of these curuetting Cocka­trices to their places of recreation, and so saue them the charge of maintaining as Sir Panda­rus or an Apple-squire; which seruice indeed, to speake the truth, a Waterman is altogether vnfit for; & the worst is, most of them are such Loggerheads, that they either will not learne, but as I thinke would scorne to bee taught: so that if the Sculler had not been paid when he was paid, it is to be doubted that he should ne­uer haue b [...]paid [...] for the coachman hath got­tē all the custom from the Scullers paymistris.

This is one apparant reason, why all the whores haue forsaken vs, and spend their cash so free & frequent vpon those ingenious, well­practiz'd & seruiceable hired coachmen: but [Page 238] (a Pox take em all) whither doe my wits run after whores and knaues? I pray you but note the streetes, and the chambers or lodgings in Fleetstreet or the Strand, how they are pestered with them, especially after a Mask or a Play at the Court, where euen the very earth quakes and trembles, the casements shatter, tatter and clatter, and such a confused noise is made, as if all the diuels in hell were at Barly-breake; so that a man can neither sleepe, speake, heare, write, or eate his dinner or supper quiet for them: besides, their tumbling din (like a coun­terset thunder) doth sowre Wine, Ale and Beere most abominably, to the impairing of their healths that drinke it, and the ma­king of many a Victualer and Tapster Trade­falne.

A Wheele-wright or a maker of Carts, is an ancient, a profitable, and a Trade, which by no meanes can be wanted: yet so poore it is, that scarce the best amongst them can hardly euer attaine to better then a Calues skin sute, or a piece of necke beefe and Carret rootes to din­ner on a Sunday; nor scarcely any of them is e­uer mounted to any Office aboue the degree of a Scauenger, or a Tything-man at the most. On the contrary, your Coach-makers trade is the most gainefullest about the Towne, they are apparelled in Sattens and Veluets, are Ma­sters of their Parish, Vestry-men, who fare like the Emperors Heliogabalus or Sardanapulus, sel­dome without their Mackroones, Parmisants, Iellyes and Kickshawes, with baked Swannes, Pasties hot, or cold red Deere Pyes, which they haue frō their Debtors worships in the Coun­try neither are these Coaches onely thus cum­bersome by their Rumbling and Rutting, as they are by their standing still, and damming vp the streetes and lanes, as the Blacke Vriers, and diuers other places can witnes, and against Coach-makers doores the streets are so peste­red and clogg'd with them, that neither man, horse or cart can passe for them; in so much as my Lord Maior is highly to bee commended for his care in this restraint, sending in Febru­ary last, many of them to the Counter for their carelesnesse herein.

They haue beene the vniuerfall decay of al­most all the best Ash Trees in the Kingdome for a yong plant can no sooner peepe vp to any perfection, but presently it is felled for the Coach: Nor a yong Horse bred of any beauty or goodnes: but he is ordaind from his foaling for the seruice of the Coach, so that whereas in former ages, both in peace and wars, we might compare with any Nation in the world for the multitude and goodnes of our horses; we now thinke of no other imployment for them, the [...] to draw in a Coach, and when they are either lamed by the negligence of the coachman, o [...] worne out after many yeeres with trotting to Playes and Baywdy-houses, then are they (like old maimed Souldiers) after their wounds and scarres, preferr'd to Wood-mongers, (whe [...] they are well Billited) or to Draymen, whe [...] they turne Tapsters, and draw Beere by whole Barrels and Hogsheads at once; and the [...] they weare out the remainder of their daies till new harnis for others are made of their [...] skinnes.

The last Proclamations concerning the reti­ring of the Gentry out of the City into thei [...] Countries, although my selfe, with many thou­sands more were much impouerished and hin­dered of our liuings by their departure; yet [...] the other side, how it cleered the Streetes o [...] these way-stopping Whirligigges! for a man now might walk without bidding Stand vp [...] by a fellow that scarcely can either go or stan [...] himselfe. Prince, Nobility, and Gentlemen o [...] worth, Offices and Quality, haue herein the [...] Pri [...]iledge, and are exempt, may ride as the [...] occasions or pleasures shal inuite them, as mos [...] meet they should; but when euery G [...]ll T [...] tripe, Mistris Fumkins, Madame Polecat, and my Lady Trash, Froth the Tapster, Bill the Taylor [...] Lauender the Broker, Whisse the Tobacco seller with their companion Trugs, must be coach [...] to Saint Albanes, Burntwood, Hockley in the Hole, Craydon, Windsor, Vxbridge, and ma­ny other places, like wilde Haggards prancing vp and downe, that what they get by cheating sweating, & lying at home, they spend in riot whoring, and drunkennes abroad, I say by my hallidome, it is a burning shame; I did late­ly write a Pamphet called a Thiefe, where­in [Page 239] did a little touch vpon this point; that see­ing the Heard of hyreling Coaches are more [...] the Whirries on the Thames, and that they make Leather so excessiue deare, that it [...] good the order in Bohemia were obser­ [...]ed heere, which is, that euery hyred Coach should bee drawne with ropes, and that all their Harnesse should be Hemp and Cordage: besides, if the couer and boots of them were of good rosind or pitched canuas, it would bring [...]ne the price of leather, and by that means [...]hyred Coach would be knowne from a Prin­ces a Noble mans, Ladies, or people of note, account, respect and quality.

And if it be but considred in the right Kue, a Coach or Caroach are meere Engines of Pride, (which no man can deny to be one of the seuen deadly sinnes) for two leash of Oy­ster-wiues hyred a Coach on a Thursday after Whitsontide, to carry them to the Greene­Goose faire at Strat [...]ord the Bowe, and as they were hurried betwixt Algate and Myle-end, they were so be-madam'd, be-mistrist, and La­dified by the beggers that the foolish women began to swell with a proud supposition or I­maginary greatnes, and gaue all their mony to the mendicanting Canters; insomuch that they were faigne to pawne their gownes and smocks the next day to buy Oysters, or else their pride had made them cry, for want of what to cry withall.

Thus much I can speake by experience; I doe partly know some of mine own qualities, and I doe know that I doe hate pride, as I hate famine or surfetting; and moreouer, I know my selfe to be (at the best) but Iohn Tay­lor, and a mechanicall waterman, yet it was but my chance once to bee brought from Whitchall to the Tower in my Master Sir Wil­liam VVaades Coach, & before I had bin drawn twenty, yardes, such a Timpany of pride pust mee vp, that I was ready to burst with the winde chollicke of vaine-glory. In what state I would leane ouer the boote, and looke, and pry if I saw any of my acquaintance, and then I would stand vp, vailing my Bonnet, kissing my right claw, extending my armes as I had beene swimming, with God saue your Lordship, worship, or How doest thou honest neighbour or good-fellow? In a word, the Coach made mee thinke my selfe better then my betters that went on foot, and that I was but little inferiour to Tamberlaine, being iolted thus in state by those pampred Iades of Belgia: all men of indifferent iudgement will confesse, that a Cart is an instrument confor­mable to law, order, and discipline; for it rests on the Sabbath dayes, and commonly all o­ther Holy daies, and if it should by any means breake or transgresse against any of these good Iniunctions, there are Informers t [...] at lye in ambush (like carefull Scowtes) to informe a­gainst the poore Cart, that in conclusion my Lady Pecunia must become surety and take vp the matter, or else there will be more stirre a­bout the flesh, then the broth is worth; wheras (on the contrary) a Coach like a Pagan, an Hea­then, an Insid [...]ll, or Atheist, obserues neither Sab­bath, or holiday, time or season, robustiously breaking through the toyle or net of diuine and humane law, order and authority, and as it were, contemning all Christian conformity; like a dogge that lyes on a heape of Hay, who will eate none of it himselfe, nor suffer any o­ther beast to eate any: euen so the Coach is not capable of hearing what a Preacher saith, nor will it suffer men or women to heare that would heare: for it makes such a hideous rum­bling in the streetes by many Church dores, that peoples eares are stop'd with the noyse, whereby they are debard of their edifying, which makes faith so fruitlesse, good works so barren, and charity as cold at Midsummer, as if it were a great Frost, and by this meanes, soules are rob'd and starued of their heauenly Manna, and the kingdome of darkenesse re­plenished: to auoyd which, they haue let vp a crosse post in Cheapside on Sundaies neer Wood­street end, which makes the Coaches rattle and rumble on th'other side of the way, further frō the Church, & from hindring of their hearing.

The Nagaians, Iughonians, & the vngodly bar­barous Tartarians, who knew no God or diuell, Heauen nor hell, and who indeed are Nati­ons that haue neither Townes, Cities, Villa­ges, or houses; Their habitations are nothing [Page 240] but Coaches: in their Coaches they eate, sleepe, beget children, who are also there borne, and from place to place: with them, The World runnes on Wheeles continually, for they are drawne in droues or heards, 20, 30. or 40000. together to any fruitfull place or Champion plaine, where they and their beasts doe stay till they haue deuoured all manner of suste­nance that may maintaine life, and then they romoue to a fresh place, doing the like; thus wearing out their accursed liues like the broode of Cain, they and their houses beeing perpetuall vagabonds, and continuall ruuna­gates vpon the face of the earth. They are so practized and inured in all kinde of Barba­risme, that they will milke one Mare, and let another blood, and the blood and the milke they will Charne together in their Hats or Caps, till they haue made fresh cheese and creame (which the Diuell will scarce eate) from these people, our Coaches had first ori­ginall, and I doe wish with all my heart, that the superfluous number of all our hyreling hackney Carryknaues, and Hurry-whores, with their makers and maintainers were there, where they might neuer want continuall im­ployment.

For their Antiquity in England, I thinke it is in the memory of many men, when in the whole Kingdome there was not one; and there was another principall vertue as good as themselues came with them: for the Pro­uerbe saith, That michiefe or mischances sel­dome come alone: and it is a doubtfull questi­on, whether the diuell brought Tobacco into England in a Coach, or else brought a Coach in a fogge or mist of Tobacco.

For in the yeere 1564. one William Boonen a Dutchman brought first the vse of Coaches hither, and the said Boonen was Queene Eliza­beths Coach-man, for indeede a Coach was a strange monster in those dayes, and the sight of them put both horse and man into amaze­ment: some said it was a great Crab-shell brought out of China, and some imagin'd it to be one of the Pagan Temples, in which the Canibals adored the diuell: but at last those doubts were cleared, and Coach-making be­came a substantiall Trade: So that now all the world may see, they are as cōmon as whore [...] & may be hired as easie as Knights of the po [...].

The Cart is an open transparant Engine, th [...] any man may perceiue the plaine honesty [...] it; there is no part of it within or without, b [...] it is in the continuall view of all men: On th [...] contrary, the Coach is a close hypocrite, for i [...] hath a couer for any knauery, and curtaines t [...] vaile or shadow any wickednes: besides, like [...] perpetuall cheater, it weares two Bootes [...] no Spurs, somtimes hauing two paire of leg [...] in one boote, and oftentimes (against nature) most preposterously it makes faire Ladies [...] weare the boore; and if you note, they are car­ried backe to backe like people surpriz'd b [...] Pyrats to be tyed in that miserable manner, [...] and throwne ouerboord into the Sea. More­ouer, it makes people imitate Sea-crabs, in being drawne: side-wayes, as they are when they sit in the boote of the Coach, and it is a dangerous kinde of carriage for the common­wealth, if it be rightly considered; for when a man shall be [...] iustice of the peace, a Serieant, or a Councellor at law; who hope is it, that all or many of them should vse vpright dealing, that haue beene so often in their youth, and daily in their maturer or riper age, drawne a­side continually in a Coach, some to the right hand, and some to the left? for vse makes per­fectnesse, and often going aside willingly, makes men forget to go vpright naturally.

The order of Knighthood is both of great Antiquity and very honourable, yet within these latter times there is a strange mystery crept into it; for I haue noted i [...] that when a Gentleman hath the sword laid vpō his shoul­der, either by his Prince, or his deputy, or Generall in the field, although the blow with the sword be an honour to the man, yet (by a kind of inspiration) it cripples his wife, though shee be at that time 300. miles from her hus­band: for if you note her, you shall see her la­med for euer, so that she can by no means goe without leading vnder the arme, or else shee must be carried in a Coach all her life time af­ter; forgetting in a manner to goe on her feet so much as to Church, though it be but two [Page 241] Quoytes cast: for I haue heard of a Gentle­man that was lamed in this manner, who [...] her man to Smithfield from Charing­ [...] [...]to hyre a Coach to carry her to White­ [...]; another did the like from Ludgate-hill, [...]he carried to see a Play at the black Fryers: [...] in former times when they vsed to walke [...] foote, and recreate themselues, they were [...] strong and healthfull, now all their ex­ [...]cise is priuately to sawe Billets, to hang in a [...]nge, or to rowle the great rowler in the al­ [...] of their garden, but to go without leading [...] Riding in a Coach, is such an impeachment [...]d derogation to their Calling, which [...]sh and bloud can by no meanes endure.

Euery man knowes, that were it not for the Cart, the Hay would rot in the medowes, the Corne perish in the field, the markets be emp­tily furnished, at the Courts remoue, the King would be vnseru'd, and many a Gallant would [...] enforced to be his owne Sumpter-horse to carry his luggage, bag and baggage himselfe; and finally, were it not for the mannerly and [...]rteous, seruice of the Cart, many a well, deseruing ill condition'd braue fellow, might goe on foote to the Gallowes.

A Cart (by the iudgement of an honorable and graue Lawyer) is elder, brother to a Coach for and quity; and for vtility and profit, all the world knowes, which is which: yet so vnna­ [...]ll and so vnmanerly a brother the Coach is, that it will giue no way to the Cart, but with pride, contempt, bitter curses, and exe­ [...]tions, the Coachman wishes all the Carts [...] fire, or at the diuell, and that Carmen were all hang'd, when they cannot passe at their pleasures, quite forgetting themselues to bee sawey unprofitable intruders, vpstarts, and I [...]cator [...].

When I see a Coach put vp into a house (me thinks the pole standing stiffely erected, it looks like the Image of Priapus, whom the li­bidinous and lecherous whores and knaues of Egypt were wont to fall downe and worship; and I pray you what hinderance hath it, but it may use the Paphean or Priapean game? (for it is neuer vnfurnished of a bedde and curtaines, with shop windowes of leather to buckle Bawdry vp as close in the midst of the street, as it were in the Stewes, or a Nunnerie of Ve­nus Votaries.

What excessiue waste do they make of our best broadcloth of all colours? and many times a young heire will put his old Fathers old Coach in a mourning Cowne of Cloth or Cotton, when many of the poore distres­sed members of Christ goe naked, staruing with cold, not hauing any thing to hide their wretched carkasses; and what spoyle of our Veluets, Damaskes, Taffataes, Siluer & Gold Lace, with Fringes of all sorts, and how much consumed in guilding, wherein is spent no small quantity of our best and finest gold? not is the charge little of maintaining a Coach in reparation: for the very mending of the Har­nesse, a Knights Coachman brought in a bill to his Master of 25. pounds: besides, there is vsed more care and diligence in matching the Horses and Mares, then many fathers and mo­thers do in the mariage of their sons & daugh­ters: for many times a rich lubberly Clowne, the sonne of some gowty extortioner, or rent­racking Rascall, (for his accursed mucks sake) may be matched with a beautifull or proper wel qualified and nobly descended Gentlewo­man; and a well-fac'd handsome Esquire or Knights sonne and heire may be ioyn'd with a Ioiners puppet, or the daughter of a Sexton; but for the choice of your Coach-horses there is another manner of prouidence to bee vsed, for they must be all of a colour, longitude, la­titude, cressitude, height, length, thicknesse, breadth, (I muse they do not weigh them in a paire of Ballance) and beeing once matched with a great deale of care and cost, if one of them chance to dye (as by experience I know a horse to be a mortall beast) then is the Coach like a maymed cripple, not able to trauell, till after much diligent search, a meete mate be found, whose correspondency may be as equi­ualent to the suruiuing Palfrey, and in all re­spects, as like as a broome to a besome, barme to yeast, or quodlings to boyld Apples.

The mischiefs that haue bin done by them, are not to be numbred; as breaking of legges and arms, ouerthrowing down hils, ouer brid­ges, [Page 242] running ouer children, lame and old peo­ple, as Henry the fourth of France (the father to the King that now raigneth) he and his Queen were once like to haue beene drowned, the Coach ouer throwing besides a bridge: and to proue that a Coach owed him an vnfortunate tricke, hee was some few yeers after his first e­scape, most inhumanely & traitrously murdred in one, by Raniliacke, in the streets at Paris: but what need I runne my inuention out of breath into forraigne countries for examples, when many of the chiefe Nobilitie and Gentrie of our owne Nation haue some triall and sad ex­perience of the truth of what I write? some­times the Coachman (it may be, hath beene drunke, or to speake more mannerly, stolne a Manchet out of the Brewers Basket) hath tumbled besides his Boxe of state, and the Coach running ouer him hath kild him, the whilst the horses (hauing the reines loose) haue runne away with their Rattle at their heeles (like dogs that had bladders of dried Beanes, or empty bottles at their tailes) as if the Di­vel had bin in them: and sometimes in the full speed of their course, a wheele breaks, or the Naue slips off from the Axletree, down leapes the Coachman, & away run the horses, throw­ing their carriage into bushes, hedges, and dit­ches, neuer leauing their mad pace, till they tore to tatters their tumbling Tumbrell, to the manifest perill, danger, and vnrecouerable hurt to those whom they carry, and to all men, women, children, and cattell; as hogs, sheepe, of whatsoeuer chanceth to bee in their way: besides the great cost and charge of mending and reparations of the Coach.

There is almost nothing, but when it is worn out, it will serue for some vse, either for pro­fit or pleasure (except a Coach:) of the bottome of an old Cart, one may make a fence to stop a gap, of the Raues one may make a Ladder for [...]ennes to goe to [...]oost: of an old Bores Franke, a new Dog-kennell may be founded, of adecayed Whirry or Boat, a backe-part of a house of office may be framed (as you may see euery where on the Bank-side:) of an old Barrell, a Bolting Hutch: an ouer-worne old whore will make a spick and span new Bawde; and a rotten Bawde may make a new witch. [...] knew a neighbour of mine (an old Iustice) that of the bald veluet lyning of his Cloal [...] made him a paire of new Breeches, and those Breeches being worne past the best, with the best of them he made his wife a French Hoo [...] and when that was bare, and past her wearing if made him facing for his new boote tops: But an old Coach is good for nothing but to co [...] ­ [...] and deceiue people, as of the old ro [...] Leather they make vampies for high Shooe [...] for honest country plowmen, or belts for Sol­diers, or inner lynings for girdles, Dog-col­lers for Mastiffes: indeed the Boxe, if it were bored thorow, would bee fittest for a close stoole, and the body would (perhaps) serue for a Sow to pigge in.

If the curses of people that are wrong'd by them, might haue preuailed, sure I thinke the most part of them had beene at the Diuel many yeeres agoe. Butchers cannot passe with their cattel for them, Market folks which bring prouision of victualls to the City, are slop'd [...]aid, and bindred. Carts or waines with th [...] necessary ladings, are debard and letted: the Milke-maides ware is often spilt in the dirt [...] and peoples guts like to be crushed out, being crowded and shrowded vp against stalls, and stoopes: whilst Mistris Siluerpin with her P [...] ­der and a Paire of cramd pu [...]letrs ride grinning and deriding in their Helcart, at their miseri [...] who go on foot: I my selfe haue been so serued when I haue wished them all in the gr [...] Breach, or on a light fire vpon Hownslow he [...] or Salisbury plaine: and their damming vp the streetes in this manner, where people are wed­ged together, that they can hardly s [...], i [...] maine and great aduantage to the most ve [...] ­ous Mysterie of purse-cutting, and for any [...]thing I know, the hyred or hackney Coach [...]man may ioyne in confederacy and share with the Curpurse, one to stop vp the way, and the other to shift in the crowd.

The superfluous vse of Coaches hath been the occasions of many vile and odious crimes, as murther, theft, cheating, hangings, whip­pings, Pillories, stockes and cages; for house keeping neuer decayed till Coaches came in England, [Page 243] till which time those were accounted [...]be [...] men, who had most followers and re­ [...] then land about or neere London, was [...] deare enough at a noble the Acre [...], and a ten-pound house-rent now, was [...] twenty shillings then: but the witch­ [...] of the Coach, quickly mounted the price [...]things (except poore mens labour) and [...] transformed, in some places, 10. 20, [...]40, 50, 60, or 100. proper seruingmen, into [...] or three. Animals ( videlices) a Butterfly [...]ge, a trotting foote-man, a stifle-drinking [...]man, a Cooke, a Clarke, a Steward, and [...] [...], which hath enforced many a discar­ [...] tall fellow (through want of meanes to [...], and grace to guide him in his pouertie) to [...] into such mischieuous actions beforena­ [...]d, for which I think the Gallowses in Eng­land haue deuoured as many lusty valiant men within these thirty or forty yeeres, as would haue beene a sufficient armie to beate the foes [...] Chirst out of Christendome, and marching [...]le, haue pluck'd the great Turke [...] the Beard: but as is aforesaid, this is the age wherein The World runnes on wheeles.

It is a most vneasie kinde of passage in Coa­ches on the paued streetes in London, wherein men and women are so tost, tumbled, iumbled, [...]bled, and crossing of kennels, dunghils, and [...]euen wayes, which is enough to put all the [...] in their bellies out of ioint, to make them [...] [...] or Megrum, or to cast their [...] with continuall rocking and wallow­ [...] to preuent which, there was a Gentleman or great note, found fault with his Coach­horses because his Coach iolted him, com­mending his man to sell away those hard trot­ting lad [...], and to buy him a paire of Amblers; that might draw him with more ease: ano­ther when hee saw one of his horses more lusty and free then his fellow, he commanded his Coach-man to feede him onely with Hay and water till hee were as tame and quiet as the other, which wise command was dutiful­ly obserued.

The best vse that euer was made of Coaches, was in the old warres betwixt the Hungarians and the Turkes, (for like so many land Gallies) they carried Soldiers on each side with cros­bowes, and other warrelike engins, and they serued for good vse, eing many thousands of them, to disrowte their enemies, breaking their rankes and order, making free and open passage for their horse and foote amongst the scattered squadrons and regiments, and vpon occasion, they serued as a wall to embarricado and fortifie their campe: this was a military imployment for Coaches: and in this sort onely I could wish all our hyrelings to be vsed. It is to be supposed, that Pharaohs Charriots which were drowned in the red Sea, were no other things in shape and fashion, then our Coaches are at this time: and what great pitty was it, that the makers and memories of them had not beene obliuiously swallowed in that Egyp­tian downfall?

Mountaigne, a learned and a noble French Writer, doth relate in his booke of Essayes, that the ancient Kings of Asia, and the Ea­sterne part of Europe, were wont to be drawne in their Coaches with foure Oxen, & that Mark Anthony with a whore with him, was drawne with Lyons. Heliogabalus the Emperour was drawn with 4 naked whores, (himselfe being the Coachman:) and the Coaches in these late times (to shew some sparke of gratitude or thankefulnesse) in remembrance that naked Whores once drew one of them, they doe in requitall very often carry whores halfe naked to the belly, and gallantly apparelled; besides onely but foure whores drew one Coach, and 500. Coaches haue carried tenne thousand of them for it: but sometimes they were drawne with Stagges, as it is the vse in Lapland at this day. The Emperour Firmus was drawne with foure Este idges, and to requite those fauours, they doe now often carry men as rauenous as Lyons, as well headed as Oxen or Stags, and as the Estridges did once draw, so the feathers of them doe daily ride in Plumes and Fannes.

In the Citty of Antwerp in Brabans I haue seene little Coaches, which men send their chil­dren to Schoole in, each of them drawne by a Mastiffe dog, not hauing any guide: for the dog himselfe doth exercise three offices at one time, being as the horse to draw, the coachman [Page 244] to direct, and an honest laboring dog besides.

I remember that in one place aforesaid, I haue written, that Coaches doe seldome carry any dead things, as Stones, Timber, Wine, Beere, Corne, &c. But in so writing, I find that I haue done many of them great wrong; for I perceiue that they carry oftentimes diuers sorts of Rye, as Knaue-ry, Foole-ry, Leach-ry, Rogue-ry, Vse-ry, Bawde-ry, Braue-ry, Slaue­ry, and Begge-ry. Sometimes (by chance) they may hap to carry good Husband-ry, & House­wife-ry, but such burthens are as scarce, as mo­ney or charity: and one thing more comes in­to my mind about their multitude; for though a Coach doe seeme to bee a dead or senslesse thing, yet when I see and consider how they doe multiply and increase, I am doubtfull but that they are male and female, and vse the act of generation or begetting, or else their procreation could neuer so haue ouer-spred our Nation.

To conclude, a Coach may be fitly compa­red to a whore, for a Coach is painted, so is a whore: a Coach is common, so is a whore: a Coach is costly, so is a Whore; a Coach is drawne with beasts, a whore is drawne away with beastly Knaues. A Coach hath loose cur­taines, a whore hath a loose Gowne: a Coach is lac'd and fring'd, so [...]'s a whore: A Coach may be turn'd any way, so may a Whore: A Coach hath bosses, studs, and guilded nayle to adorne it: a whore hath Owches, Brooches Bracelets, Chaines, and Iewels, to set he foorth: a Coach is alwaies out of reparations so is a whore: a Coach hath neede of mendi [...] still, so hath a whore: a Coach is vnprofitable so is a whore: a Coach is superfluous, so is whore: a Coach is insatiate, so is a whore: A Coach breakes mens necks: a Whore breaks mens backes: This oddes is betwixt a Coach and a Whore, a man will lend his Coach to h [...] friend, so will hee not his whore: but any mans whore will saue him the labour of lea­ding her; for she will lend her selfe to whom shee pleaseth. And thus my Booke and com­parisons end together; for thus much I know that I haue but all this while bark'd at th [...] Moone, throwne feathers against the winde built vpon the sands, wash'd a Blackmore, an [...] laboured in vaine: for where a vice or euormi­ty hath pleasure in it, with a shew of profit and power to defend it, losers may speake, a [...] weaknes may babble of Reformation, thoug [...] to no end and so I end.

FINIS.

The Nipping or Snipping of ABVSES: OR, The Wooll-gathēring ôf VVit.

A Skeltonicall salutation to those that know how to reade, and not merre the sense with hacking or mis-construction.

THou true vnderstander, my inuention doth wander with the quill of a Gander, to shield mee from slander, to thy good protection, I yeeld in sub­iection, my poore imperfection, with friendly correction, and as thou dost [...]e, or stroake mee or strike mee, reproue mee or proue mee, or mooue mee, [...] loue mee, or quiteme, or spight me, friend me, or mend me, or else not offend [...]: If in ought that is written, thy humors are bitten, seeme not to espy it, and [...]one will descry it. But if thou doest kick, the spurre sure will prick; and if thou [...]ing, the waspe then will sting. My verses are made, to ride euery Iade, but [...]are forbidden, of Iades to be ridden, they shall not bee snaffled, nor braued [...]or baffled, wert thou George with thy Naggon, that foughtst with Draggon, or [...]re you Great Pompey, my verse should bethumpe ye, if you like a Iauel against [...] dare cauill. I doe not intend it as now to commend it, or yet to defend it. But [...] mee I doe send it, to like it, or mend it, and when thou hast end it, applaud it [...] rent it; my wits I could bristle, for a better Epistle, but yet at this time, this [...] Rime, I send to thy view, because it is new. So Reader, adue.

I thine, if thou mine, IOHN TAYLOR.

To the Castalian Water-writer, Splende & dignoscar.

[...] Diall set vpon an eminent place,
[...] i [...] clouds doe interuall Apolloes face,
[...] [...] a flgur'd shape, whereby we knowe
[...]le of Time, which it doth owe
[...] expectations, yet wee see
[...]ctes by which Times should distinguish'd be:
[...]alelled punctuall, ciphered lines,
[...] by a shadow, when the faire sunne shines,
Explaines the houres: So if the Sonne of men
Thy Glorious Patron, deeme to blesse thy pen
With his faire light, Thy Muse so young, so faire,
So well proportion'd, in conceites so rare:
And Naturall streames, and stile, and eu'ry part,
That Nature therein doth exceed all Art,
Will then as with Enthusiasme inspir'd,
Print Legends by the world to be admir'd.
Thine Iames Ratray.

To my friend by land and by water, Iohn Taylor.

THese leaues, kind Iohn, are not to wrap vp drams,
That doe containe thy witty Epigrams,
Let worser Poems serue for such abuse,
Whilst thine shall be reseru'd for better vse.
And let each Critick cauill what he can,
Tis rarely written of a Water-man.
Thy friend assured Rob: Branthwaite.

To his deare friend Master Iohn Taylor.

ME thinkes I see the Sculler in his boate,
With goodly motion glide along faire Thames,
And with a charming and bewitching noate,
So sweet delightfull tunes and ditties frames:
As greatest Lording [...] and the nicest Dames,
That with attentiue eare did heare thy layès,
Of force should yeeld due merit to thy praise.
Worth to all Watermen, straine forth thy voice,
To proue so pleasing in the worlds proud eye,
As eyes, and eares, and hearts may all reioyce,
To see, heare, muse vpon the melodie,
In contemplation of thy harmony,
Let Thames faire bankes thy worth and praises ring,
While I thy worth, and praise, beyond sea sing.
Tho: Gent.

To the Water-Poet, Iohn Taylor.

Honest Iohn Taylor, though I know't no grace,
To thee, or me, for writing in this place,
Yet know I that the multitudes of friends
Will thee protect, from vile malignant mindes:
The rather cause what euer thou hast snowne,
Is no one mans inuention, but thine owne.
Malicious minded men will thee dispraise;
Enuy debases all, her selfe to raise.
Then rest content, whilst to thy greater fame,
Both Art, and Nature striue to raise thy name.
Thine euer as thou knowest, R: Cudner.

To my friend Iohn Taylor.

IF Homers verse (in Greeke) did merit praise,
If Naso in the Latine won the Bayes,
If Maro 'mongst the Romanes did excell,
If Tasso in the Tuscan tongue wrote well,
Then Taylor, I conclude that thou hast don
In English, what immortall Baies haue won.
Thy friend Iohn Taylor.

To my honest friend Iohn Taylor.

THy Taylors shears, foule vices wings [...] [...]
The scames of impious dealings are vnript:
So Art-like thou these captious times hast quipt,
As if in Helicon thy pen were dipt,
All those who' gainst thy worth are enuious lipt,
Thy sharpe Satyrick Muse hath nipt and s [...]ip [...]
And to conclude, thy nuention is not chipt,
Or stolne or borrowd, begd, or basely gript.
Then Taylor, thy conceits are truely sowde,
And, Sculler, (on my word) it was well roude.
Thine to mybest pow [...] Enoch Ly [...]

In Laudem Authoris.

MOst commonly one Taylor will dispraise
Anothers workmanship, enuying alwai [...]s
At him thats better then himselfe reputed,
Though he himselfe be but a botcher bruted:
So might it well be said of me (my friend)
Should I not to thy worke some few lines lend,
Which to make probable, this sentence tendeth,
Who not commends, he surely discommendeth:
In my illiterate censure, these thy rimes,
Deserue applause, euen in these worst of times:
VVhen wit is onely worthy held in those,
On whom smooth flattery vaine praise besto [...]es;
But I not minding with thy worth to flatter,
Do know thy wit too good to toyle by water.
Rob. Taylor

To my friend IOHN TAYLOR.

THis worke of thine, thou hast compil'd so [...]
It merits better wits thy worth to tell.
Thine Maximilian W [...]

The Authours description of a Poet and Poesie, with an Apology in defence of Naturall English Poetry.

SHall beggers dine into the Acts of Kings?
Shall Nature speake of supernat' rall things,
[...] Eagles flights attempted be by Gnats?
[...] mighty Whales be portraied out by Sprats?
These things I know vnpossible to be,
[...]d it is as vnpossible for mee,
That am a begger in these Kingly acts,
Which from the heau'ns true Poetrie extracts.
[...] foole by Nature I
[...] neuer knew this high-bome mystery,
[...] worthlesse gnat I know my selfe more weake,
[...] the Princely Eagle dare to speake:
[...]y sprat the Ocean seekes so sound,
[...] seek this Whale, though seeking he be drown'd:
[...] to proceed: a Poets Art, I know,
[...] compact of earthly things below:
[...] is of any base substantiall, mettle,
That in the worlds rotundity doth settle:
[...]tis Immortall, and it hath proceeding,
[...]rom whē [...]e diuinest soules haue all their breeding.
[...] is a blessing [...]u'n hath sent to men,
[...]y men it is di [...]lged with their pen:
And by that propagation it is knowne,
And ouer all the world disperst and throwne:
[...] verball elocution so refinde,
That it to Vertue animates mans minde:
The blessed Singer of blest Israel,
[...] this rare Arte, he rarely did excell,
He sweetly Poetiz'd in heau'nly verses,
[...] lines which aye eternity rehearses:
[...] and glorious great esteeme
[...] C [...] did a Poet deeme:
[...]mired Virgils life doth plainely show,
[...]t all the world a Poets worth may know:
[...] leauing Israels King, and Romane Caesar,
[...]seeke in England English Poets treasure,
Sir Philip Sid [...]y, histimes Mars and Muse,
That word and sword, so worthily could vse,
That spight of death, his glory lin's, [...]wai [...]
For Conquelts, and for Poesie crown'd with bayes:
What famous nien liue in this age of ours,
As if the [...] Sister's nine had left the [...] bowres,
With more post h [...]e then expeditious wings
They [...]eere haue found the Heliconian springs
We of our mighty Monarch IAMES may boast,
Who in this heau'nly Arte exceeds the most?
Where men may see the Muses wisdome well:
When such a glorious house they chose to dwell.
The Preacher whose instructions, doe afford
The soules deare food, the euerliuing Word:
If Poets skill be banisht from his braine,
His preaching (sometimes) will be but too plaine:
Twixt Poetry and best diuinity
There is such neere and deare affinity,
As'twere propinquity of brothers blood,
That without tone, the other's not so good:
The man that takes in hand braue verse to write,
And in Diuinitie hath no insight,
He may perhaps make smooth, and Art-like Rimes,
To please the humours of these idle times:
But name of Poet hee shall neuer merit,
Though writing them, he waste his very spirit:
They therefore much mistake that seeme to say,
How euery one that writes a paltrie play:
A sottish Sonnet in the praise of loue,
A song or jigge, that fooles to laughter moue,
In praise or dispraise, in defame or fame,
Deserues the honour of a Poets name:
I further say, and further will maintaine,
That he that hath true Poesie in his braine,
Will not profane so high and heau'nly skill,
To glory or be proud of writing ill:
But if his Muse doe stoope to such deiection,
Tis but to shew the world her sinnes infection:
A Poets ire sometimes may be inflam'd:
To make foule Vices brazen face asham'd.
And then his Epigrams and Satyres whip,
Will make base gald vnruly Iades to skip:
In frost they say 'tis good, bad blood be nipt,
And I haue seene Abuses whipt and stript
In such rare fashion, that the wincing age,
Hath kick'd and flung, with vncontrouled rage.
Oh worthy Withers, I shall loue thee euer,
And often maist thou doe thy best indeuer,
That still thy workes and thee may liue together,
Contending with thy name and neuer wither.
But further to proceed in my pretence
Of nat'rall English Poetries defence:
For Lawreat Sidney, and our gracious Iames,
Haue plunged been in Arts admired streames:
And all the learned Poets of our dayes,
Haue Arts great ayde to winne still liuing Bayes:
All whom I doe confesse such worthy men,
That I vnworthy am with inke and pen
To carry after them. But since my haps
Haue been so happy as to get some scraps,
By Nature giu'n me from the Muses table,
I'le put them to the best vse I am able:
I haue read Tasso, Virgill, Homer, Ouid,
Iosophus, Plutark, whence I haue approued,
And found such obseruations as are fit,
With plenitude to fraught a barren wit.
[Page 246] [...] [Page 247] [...] [Page 248]And let a man of any nation be,
These Authors reading, makes his iudgement fee
Some rules that may his ignorance refine,
And such predominance it hath with mine.
No bladder-blowne ambition puff's my Muse,
An English Poets writings to excuse:
Nor that I any rule of art condem,
Which is Dame Natures ornamentall Iem:
But these poore lines I wrote (my wits best pelse)
Defending that which can defend it selfe.
Know them vnnat'ral English Mungril Monster,
Thy wandring iudgemet doth too much misconster:
When thou affirm'st thy Natiue Country-man,
To make true verse no art or knowledge can:
Cease, cease to do this glorious Kingdome wrong,
To make her speech inferiour to each tongue:
Shew not thy selfe more brutish then abeast,
Base is that bird that files her homeborne neast.
In what strange tongue did Virgils Muse commerce?
What language wast that Ouid wrote his verse?
Thou s [...]yst 't was Latin: why I say so too.
In no tongue else they any thing could doo:
They Naturally did learne it from their mother.
And must speake Latin, that could speake no other:
The Grecian blinded Bard did much compile,
And neuer vsde no foreigne far-fetcht stile:
But as hee was a Greeke his verse was Greeke,
In other tongues (alas) he was to seeke.
Du Bartas heauenly all admired Muse,
No vnknowne Language euer vs'de to vse:
But as he was a Frenchman, so his lines
In natiue French with fame most glorious shines,
And in the English tongue tis fitly stated,
By siluer-tongued Siluester translated.
So well, so wisely, and so rarely done,
That he by it immortall same hath wonne.
Then as great Mars and renowned Nas [...],
Braue Homer, Petrarke, sweet Italian Tasse:
And numbers more, past numbring to be numberd,
Whose rare inuentions neuer were incumberd,
With our outlandish chip chop gibrish gabblings:
To fill mens eares with vnacqu [...]iated babbling:
Why may not then an English man, I pray;
In his owne language write as crst did they?
Yet must we suit our phrases to their shapes,
And in their imitations be their Apes.
Whilst Muses haunt the fruitfull forked hill,
The world shall reuerence their vnmatched skill.
And for inuention, fiction, methood, measure,
From them must Poets seeke to seeke that treasure,
But yet I think a man may vse that tongue
His Country vses, and doe them no wrong.
Then I whose Artlesse studies are but weake.
Who neuer could, nor will but English speake.
Do heere maintaine, if words be rightly plac'd,
A Poets skill, with no tongue more is grac'd.
It runnes so smooth, so sweetly it doth flow,
From it such heauenly harmony doth grow,
That it the vnderstanders sences moues
With admiration, to expresse their loues.
No musicke vnder heauen is more diuine,
Then is a well-writ, and a well-read line.
But when a witlesse selfe-conceited Rooke,
A good inuention dares to ouerlooke;
How pitteous then mans best of wit is martyr'd,
In barbrous manner totter'd, torne and quarter'd [...]
So mingle mangled, and so hack't and hewd,
So scuruily bescuruide and be me wde?
Then this detracting durty dunghill Drudge,
Although he vnderstand not, yet will iudge.
Thus famous Poesie must abide the doome
Of euery muddy-minded raskall Groome.
Thus rarest Artists are continuall stung
By euery prating, stinking lumpe of dung.
For what cause then should I so much repine,
When best of writers that ere wrote a line,
Are subiect to the censure of the worst,
Who will their follies vent, or eise they burst?
I haue at idle times some Pamphlets writ,
(The fruitlesse issue of a nat'rall wit)
And cause I am no Scholler, some enuy me,
With soule and false calumnious words belie me:
With brazen fronts, and flinty hard beleefe,
Affirming or suspecting me a theefe:
And that my sterrile Muse so dry is milch'd,
That what I write, is borrow'd, beg'd, or filch'd,
Because my name is Taylor, they suppose
My best inuentions all from stealing growes:
As though there were no difference to be made
Betwixt the name of Taylor, and the Trade.
Of all strange weapons, I haue least of skill
To mannage or to wield a Taylors bill.
I cannot Item it for silke and facing,
For cutting, edging, stiffning, and for lacing:
For bumbast, stitching, binding and for buckram,
For cotton, bayes, for canuas and for lockram.
All these I know, but know not how to vse them,
Let trading Taylors therefore still abuse them,
My skil's as good to write, to sweate, or row,
As any Taylors is to steale or sow.
In end my pulsiue braine no Art affoords,
To mine or stamp, or forge new coyned words.
But all my tongue can speake or pen can write,
VVas spoke and writ, before I could indite,
Yet let me be of my best hopes berest,
If what I euer writ, I got by theft:
Or by base symony, or bribes, or gifts,
Or beg'd, or borrowd it by sharking shifts,
I know, I neuer any thing haue done,
But what may from a weake inuention runne,
Giue me the man whose wit will vndertake
A substance of a shaddow for to make:
[Page 249]Of nothing something, (with Arts greatest aide)
With Na [...] onely all his Muse arraide,
The solid matter from his braine can squeez,
[...] some lame Artists wits are drawn to'th leez.
[...]aching Parrots prate and prattle can,
[...]ght an Ape will imitate a man:
And [...] his hors shew'd tricks, taught with much labor,
[...] did the hare that plaid vpon the tabor.
[...]ll man I pray, so witlesse be besotted?
[...]ll men (like beasts) no wisdome be allotted?
(Without great studie) with instinct of Nature,
Why then work man the worst and basest creature?
[...] are made the other creatures Kings,
[...] superiour wisdome from them springs:
[...] therefore M [...] vnto thee againe,
[...] dost suspect, the issues of my braine,
[...] but my bastards, now my Muse doth flie,
[...]nd in thy throat giues thy suspect the lie.
[...]nd to the triall dares thee when thou dar'st,
Accounting thee a coward, if thou spar'st.
[...] [...] little wit, and braine, and spleene,
And gall memorie, and mirth and teene,
[...]d passions, and affections of the minde,
[...] other Mortals vse to be enclinde.
A [...] hauing all this, wherefore should men doubt,
[...] wit should be so crippled with the Gowt,
[...] it must haue assistance to compile,
[...]a l [...]e dog, that's limping or a stile?
[...]o, no, thou Z [...]yl [...], thou detracting else,
[...]gh thou art insufficient in thy selfe,
[...]nd hast thy wit and studies in reuersion,
[...] [...] on me that scandalous aspersion.
[...] such ballad-mongring timing slaues,
[...] [...]ygging rascals, such audacious knaues,
[...]e bane of learning, the abuse of Arts,
[...]me of Natures worst defectiue parts:
The scorne of schollers, poison of rewards,
[...] dlesse vassalls of true worths regards,
The shame of time, the canker of deserts,
The death of liberall and heroicke hearts,
[...] like so many bandogs snarle and snatch,
[...] all's their owne they can from others catch:
[...] licke the scraps of Schollers wits (like dogs)
( [...] [...] old) draffs good enough for hogs.
[...]yning line by line, and peece by peece,
[...] from each place they read, will filch a sleece.
[...] thinks my Muse should piecemeale teare these rogues
[...] base & vile thē tatter'd Irish brogues.
[...] kissing raskals, flattering parasites,
[...]ne vices vassalls, vertues opposites.
[...] you da [...]bde curs haue murderd liberall minds,
[...] made best Poets worse esteem'd then hindes:
[...] wherefore doe I take a Schollers part,
[...] haue no ground or Axioms of Art,
[...] in Poesie an artlesse creature,
[...] haue no learning but the booke of Nature;
No Academicall Poeticke straines.
But home [...]pu [...] medley of my mottley braines?
Th [...] [...] on [...] a Sch [...]r's wants bewaile;
And why against [...]fe litter'd whelps I raile,
I [...] this, that they long time should time beftow.
In paint fall study, secret Arts to know,
[...]d after liue in want, contempt and scorne,
By euery d [...]g-hill p [...]asant ouer-borne,
Ab [...]d, reiected, doggedly disgrac'd,
De'p [...]ed, ragged, Iowzie, and out-fac'd,
Whilst Bag-pipe-poets stuft with others wind,
Are g [...]c'd for wit, they haue from them purloind.
Now in my owned fence once more I'l say,
Their too rash iudgements too much runne astray,
That, 'c [...]se my name is Taylor, I doe theeue it,
I hope their wisdomes will no more beleeue it:
Nor let my want of learning be the cause,
I should be bitten with blacke, envies iawes:
For whose'r by nature is not a Poet,
By rules of Art he neuer well can show it.
Ther's many a wealthy heire long time at Schoole,
Doth spend much study, and comes home a foole.
A Poet needs must be a Poet borne,
Or else his Art precures his greater scorne,
For why? if Art alone made men excell,
Me thinks Tom Coriat should write ex'lent well:
But he was borne belike in some crosse yeere,
When learning was good cheap, but wit was deare.
Then to conclude, as I before began,
Though nought by Schollership or Art I can,
Yet (if my stocke by nature were more bare)
I scorne to vtter stolne or borrowed ware:
And therefore Reader, now I tell thee plaine,
If thou incredulous dost still remaine;
If yea or nay these reasons doe perswade thee,
I leaue thee and thy faith to him that made thee.

To the Kings most excellent Maiesty.
Anagramma. Iames Stuart. MVSKS TARI AT.

GReat Soueraigne, as thy sacred Royall brest
Is by the Muses whole and sole possest:
So do I know, Rich, Precious, Peereleffe Iem,
In writing vnto Thee, I write to them.
The Muses tarry at thy name: why so?
Because they haue no further for to goe.

To the high and mighty Prince, CHARLES STVART.

Anagramma, Calls true hearts.

BRaue Prince, thy name, thy fame, thy selfe and all,
With lone and seruice all true hearts doth call:
So royally indude with Princely parts,
Thy Reall vertues alwaies, calls true hearts.

To Anna Queene of Great Brittaine.

THese back-ward and these forward lines I fend,
To your right Royall high Maiesticke hand:
And like the guilty prisoner I attend
Your censure, wherein blisse or bale doth stand.
If I condemned be, I cannot grudge,
For neuer Poet had a iuster Iudge.
These lines are to bee read the same backward as they are forward.
Deer Madam Reed:
Deem if I meed.

Loues Iabyrinth, with the de­scription of the seuen Planets.

I Trauel'd through a wildernesse of late,
Ashady, darke, vnhaunted desart groue:
Whereas a wretch explain'd his piteous state.
Whose mones the Tygers vnto ruthe would moue;
Yet though he was a man cast downe by Fate,
Full manly with his miseries hee stroue:
And dar'd false Fortune to her vtmost worst,
And e'r he meant to bend, would brauely burst.
Yet swelling griefe so much o'r-charg'd his heart,
In scalding sighes, he needs must vent his woe,
Where groans, and teares, and sighes, all beare a part,
As partners in their masters ouerthrow:
Yet spight of griefe, he laught to scorne his smart,
And midst his depth of care demean'd him so,
As if sweet concord bore the greatest sway,
And snarling discord was inforc'd t'obey.
Thou Saint (quoth he) I whilome did adore,
Thinke not thy youthfull feature still can last,
In winters age, thou shalt in vaine implore,
That thou on me, such coy disdaine didst cast:
Then, then remember old said fawes of yore.
Time was, Time is, but then thy Times is past:
And in the end, thy bitter torments be;
Because that causelesse, thou tormentedst me.
Oh you immortall, high Imperious pow'rs,
Haue you in your resistlesse doomes decreed,
To blast with spight, & scorns my pleasant houres,
To starue my hopes, and my despaire to feed?
Once more let me attaine those sunshine showres:
Whereby my withered ioyes againe may breed.
If gods no comfort to my cares apply,
My comfort is, I know the way to dye.

1 To Saturne.

With wits distracted here I make my will,
I doe bequeath to Saturne, all my sadnesse,
When Melancholy first my heart did fill,
My sences turne from sobernesse to madnesse:
Since Saturne, thou wast Authour of my ill,
To giue me griefe, and take away my gladnesse:
Malignant Planet, what thou gau'st to me,
I giue againe, as good a gift to thee.

2 To Ioue.

I doe surrender backe to thundring Ioue,
All state, which erst my glory did adorne:
My frothy pomp, and my ambitious loue,
To thee, false Iupster, I backe returne
All Iouiall thoughts, that first my heart did moue,
In thy Maiesticke braine was bred and borne;
Which by thy inspiration caus'd my wracke,
And therefore vnto thee, I giue it backe.

3 To Mars.

To Mars I giue my rough robustious rage,
My anger, fury, and my scarlet wrath:
Man-slaughtring murder, is thy onely page,
Which to thy bloudy guidance I bequeath,
Thy seruants all, from death should haue their [...]
For they are executioners for death:
Great Mars, all fury, wrath, and rage of mine,
I freely offer to thy Goary shrine.

4 To Sol.

All-seeing Sol, thy bright reflecting eye
Did first with Poets Arte inspire my braines:
Tis thou that me so much didst dignifie,
To wrap my soule with sweet Poetike straines,
And vnto thee, againe before I dye,
I giue againe, a Poets gainelesse gaines,
Though wit and arte are blessings most diuine,
Yet here, their iems, amongst a heard of sw [...].

5 To Venus.

To thee, false Goddesse, loues adultrous Queene,
My most inconstant thoughts I doe surrender:
For thou alone, alone hast euer beene
True louers bane, yet seemest loues defender,
And were thy Bastard blinde, as fooles doe wee [...]
So right he had not spilt my heart so tender:
Fond Vulcans pride, thou turn'st my ioy to p [...]
Which vnto thee, I render backe againe,

6 To Mercury.

To Mercury, I giue my sharking shifts,
My two-fold false equiuocating tricks:
All cunning sleights, and close deceiuing drifts,
Which to deceitfull wrong my humour pricks:
[Page 251] [...]y Bo [...]eaka's, my Decoyes and Lifts:
[...]birdlime henceforth to my fingers sticks.
My thoughts, my words, my actions that are bad,
To thee I giue, for them from thee I had.

7 To Luna.

[...]d [...]ast and low'st of all these Planets seuen,
[...]y wau'ring thoughts, I giue to Lunac's guiding:
[...]y senslesse braines, of wit and sence bereauen,
[...]y strdfast change, and my most certaine sliding,
[...] various alterations vnder heauen,
[...] that is mine, ore mouing or abyding,
My woes, my ioyes, my mourning and my mirth,
I giue to thee, from whence they had their birth.
[...]hus he against the higher powers contends,
[...] threats, and bans, and beats his care crazd brest,
[...]he birds harmonious musicke to him lends,
[...]hich addes no rest vnto his restlesse rest:
[...] [...]'ry thing in louing sort attends:
[...]aceable, and sencelesse doe their best.
With helplesse helps do helpe to mone his mone,
And her he loues, remaines vnkinde alone.
[...] last he rose from out the place he lay,
[...] frantickly ran woodly through the wood:
[...]he scratching brambes in the wailesse way,
[...]eate his stay, but in a hare-braind mood;
[...]e fled, till weary he at last did stay,
[...]o rest him, where a ragged rocke there ood
With reso'ution to despaire and dye,
Whil'st Eccho to his mone did thus reply.
Eccho.
[...]ay humane mischiefes be compar'd with mine? mine.
Thine, babbling Eccho, would thy tongue told true: true.
[...] that I alone must weepe and pine: pine.
[...]pine for her, from whom my cares ensue, sue.
[...] I serue a marble-hearted faire, ayre.
And ayre is all the fruit of fruitlesse loue: loue
[...]ou's hope is past, then welcom black despaire despair.
[...] there despaire my causeles curse remoue? moue.
[...] whither shall I moue, to ioy or paine? paine.
[...] paine be my reward for paine for aye? aye.
[...]ye must my torment seed her scornfull vain? vaine.
[...]o ease me griefe, wil she say yea or nay? nay.
[...]ay, then from loue and all his lawes I fly. fly.
[...] I search, I seeke the way to die. die.
Thus brabbling 'gainst all things he heares or sees,
[...]patient at his froward fortunes wrongs:
[...]o sensu'all obiect with his sence agrees.
[...]ll pleasures his dispeasure more prolongs:
[...] length he carues vpon the thick-bark'd trees
These vnder written sad lamenting songs.
And as my weake inuention vnderstood,
His farewell thus, was grau'd vpon the wood.

Sonnet.

LIke a decrepit wretch, deform'd and lame
My verse approaches to my dearest Dame
Whose dire disdaine, makes my laments her game
Whose scornfull eies adde fuell to my flame.
But whether shee, or I are most too blame
I for attempting to exalt her fame
With fruitlesse Sonnets; which my wit did frame:
Or shee whose piercing lookes my heart o'r- came.
Her feature can both men and monsters tame
The gods, and fiends adore and dread her name
Whose matchlesse forme doth Citherea shame,
Whose cruell heart remaineth still the same
And in a word, I striue against the streame
My state's too low, and hers is too supreme.
Then since so scornefull is her high dis- daine,
Since all my loue is but bestow'd in vaine
Curbe fancie then, with true discretions Reine,
Let reason cure my tor-tormenting paine,
Suppose I should at last, my suit at- taine,
And then sit downe and count my losing gaine:
My haruest would be tares in stead of graine.
Then Ile no longer vexe my vexed braine
To seeke her loue, who ioyes when I com- plaine
No longer I, loues vassall will re- maine,
I'l be no more of Cupids witlesse traine,
Whose partiall blindenesse hath so many slaine.
Proud Dame, whose brest my loue didst earst refrain
Despight loues, lawes, I'le be no more thy swaine.
Thus like a man, whose wits were quite bereft him,
I found him mad with loue, and so I left him.

Plutoes Proclamation concerning his Infernall pleasure for the Propaga­tion of Tobacco.

TRue Newes & strange my Muse intends to write,
From horrid concaues of eternall night:
Whereas a damned Parlament of Deuils,
Enacted lawes to fill the world with euils.
Blacke Pluto sundry proclamations sends
Through Barathrum, and summons all the fiends,
To know how they on earth had spent their times,
And how they had beclog'd the world with crimes.
First spake an ancient Deuill yeleaped Pride,
Who said he wandred had, both farre and wide,
Dispersing his Ambitious poisnous bane,
As farre as Luna doth both waxe or wane.
Next summond was a rake-hell surgownd curre,
[Page 252]Cal'd Auarice, (whose rotten haulking murre)
Was like to choake him, ere he could declare
How hee had soules possest with monies care.
That so they fill their Coffers to the brim,
Ali's one, let sweet saluation sinke or swimme.
The third that to the Parlament came in,
Was murder, all inroab'd in scarlet sinne,
Who told great Limboes monarch he had done
Such deeds, as thousand soules to hell haue wonne.
The fourth that entred to this damned lurie,
Was sweet sinne Lechery, a smugfac'd furie:
Said that the world should his great pains approue,
Where vniuersall lust is counted loue.
The fist was an ilshaped decrepit Crone
Cald Enuy, all consum'd to skinne and bone:
And shee declar'd what labour he had spent
To Honours, and to Vertues detriment.
Then sixt, did Burst-gut Gluttony appeare,
Whose sole delight is all in [...]elly-cheere:
Who told how he mens greedy mindes did serue
To cram their bodies, whilst their soules did sterue.
The seuenth was Sloth, an vgly lothsome wretch,
Who being cald, did gape, and yawne, and stretch:
I haue (quoth he) done as your highnesse wil'd,
I all the world with Idlenesse haue fil'd,
In lazie Creatures members I doe lurke,
That thousands will be hang'd, before the 'ile work.
Then Pluto said, These ills, you haue done well,
In propagation of our Kingdome, Hell:
But yet ther's one thing which I will effect,
Which too long hath been buried with neglect;
And this it is, in Rich America,
In India, and black Barbaria.
Whereas the peoples superstitions show
Their minde, because no other God they know,
In those misguided lands I caus'd to breed
A foule contagious, stinking Manbane weede:
Which they (poore fooles) with diligence do gather
To sacrifice to me that am their Father:
Where euery one a Furies shape assumes,
Befog'd and clouded with my hel-hatch'd fumes.
But these blacke Nations that adore my name,
I'le leaue in pleasure: and my mischiefes frame
Gainst those who by the name of Christian goe,
Whose Author was my finall ouerthrowe.
And therefore straight diuulge our great commands,
That presently throughout all Christian lands,
Tobacco be disperst, that they may be
As Moores and Pagans are, all like to me:
That from the Palace to the paltry nooke,
Like hell in imitation all may looke.
In vice let Christians passe both lewes and Turke [...]
And let them outpasse Christians in good workes.
Let euery Cobler with his dirty fist,
Take pride to be a blacke Tobacconist.
Let Idiot Coxcombs sweare, 'tis excellent geare,
And with a whiffe their reputations reare.
Let euery idle addle-pated gull
With stinking sweet Tobacco stuffe his skull.
Let Don Fantasticke smoake his vasty gorge,
Let rich and poore, let honest men and knaues,
Be smoak'd and stunke vnto their timelesse graues.
Thus is our last irreuocable will,
Which though it dam not man, I know twill kill:
And therefore strait to euery Christian Nation,
Diuulge and publish this our Proclamation.

A Proclamation or approbation from the King of execration, to eue­ry Nation, for Tobaccoes propagation.

WHereas wee haue beene credibly informed (by our true and neuer-failing Intelligeneers, [...] the soules of Vsurers, Brokers, Knights of the Pu [...] Panders, Bawdes, and such like, our welbeloued sea [...] and daughters, by gracelesse adoption) that the [...] ( alias weed) ycleped Tobacco, (alias) Trinidado alias, Petun, alias, Necocianum, a long time ha [...] been in continuall vse and motion amongst the Se [...] burnt, tanskind Indians, Barbarians, and the [...] of our blacke guard inhabiting in America, which hath bin greatly to our contentmēt to see our execr [...] ­ble seruants on the earth, to come so neere our infer­nall Tartarian sulphurous contagious stinke, with their terrestriall imitations: wee therefore with th [...] full consent of our three Estates, namely our Lord [...] spiritual of our owne synagogue, as twelue Turb [...] Mufiyes, 66. Popes, and sundry other Cardinel [...] &c. Prelates our foure trustie friends: Besides [...] Temporall Lords, as Heliogabalus, Nero, Sanla­napalus, with many more, and our Comminalty [...] vassals, whereof the chiefe, wee hold to bee Guido [...] Faux, Francis Rauillac, and all such as [...] Naturalized into the line of Iudas or A­chitophel. Wee with these estates aforesaid [...] (by the Authority of this present Parliament) straightly charge and command, that all di [...]els, demy-diuels, fiends, furies, hagges, witches, ghosts, goblins, spirits, elues, fayries, or any [Page 253] [...] subiects or subiects, to our infernall monarchy, [...]ywh [...] name or title soeuer they bee called, that they [...]ad [...]a [...]cry of them doe forthwith vpon the sight here­ [...], disperse themselues amongst the Christians (the [...]er enemies of our mightic Monarchy) and there, [...] [...] of witcherafts, spels, exorcismes, con­ [...], [...] antations, or any other of our Ma­ [...]) deuices, doe their best endeauors to possesse [...] with the loue of Tobacco, make old men [...]o ate [...] it, and young men admire it, make the rich [...] [...] their [...]ealth in it, make the laborer in [...] houre in the Euening puffe away his whole daies [...] be decayed banquerupt be alwaies my tru­ [...] factor to diuulge it, be they neuer so base, let [...] bee accounted Noble that vse it, and be they [...] so Noble, let them bee thought base that re­ [...] [...] Play-houses, Drinking-schooles, Tauorus, [...]ses, Bawdy houses, be continually haunted with the contaminous vapours of it, nay (if it bee [...]ble [...]) bring it into their Churches, and there [...] vp their Preachers, (my onely and my hate­ [...] s [...]mics.)

And wheras the Indians, and other farre remoted [...]barous Nations were the first that vsed it, wee do [...]oghtly further charge and commaund, that you [...]nd euery of you, doe dis [...]wade them from the exc [...] [...] vse of it, and let those Nations that are our con­ [...] opposites in manners and Religion, be fully [...] with an immoderate desire of it like Hors­ [...] [...], the more they drinke, the more let them [...]st let it bee a trade to practise the whiffe, the [...], the gulpe, the euaporating or retention. Doe [...] with all expedition, as you expect the fruition of [...] f [...]therly execrable Maleuolent Malediction.

Giuen at our Palace at Gehemn [...], &c.
THis Proclamation was no sooner doon,
But thousand furies to and fro did runne,
[...] accomplish what their Master Pluto spoke,
And fully fill the world with stinke and smoake:
And now the man that se'ne of feeling reft,
By reason of his age, whose teeth haue left
The vasty Ca [...]urne of his mumping cud,
Most haue Tobacco to reuine his blood:
The glistring Gallant, or the Gallant Gull,
The icering Pander, and the hackney Trull,
The Roysting Rascall, and the swearing Slaue,
The Hostler, Tapster, all in generall craue
To be a foggy, misty, smoaky Iury
Vpon this vpstart newfound [...]ien fury,
Great Captaine Graceles [...]e stormes, pro [...]s, and swearers,
He [...] haue the rascall Poet by the cares,
And beate him, as a man would beate a dog,
That dares once speake against this precious fogge.
It is the iewel that hee most respects,
It is the gemme of ioy his heart affects:
It is the thing his soule doth most adore,
To liue and loue Tobacco, and a whore:
Hee'le cram his braines with fumes of Indian grasse,
And grow as fat with't as an English Asse.
Some say Tobacco will mens daies prolong.
To whom I answer, they are in the wrong.
And sure my conscience giues me not the ile,
I thinke 'twill make men rotten [...]re they die.
Old Adam liu'd nine hundred thirty yeere,
Yet ne'r dranke none, as I could read or heare:
And some men now liue ninety yeeres and past,
Who neuer dranke Tobacco first nor last.
Then since at first it came from faithlesse Moores,
(And since tis now more common far then whores [...]
I see no reason any Christian Nation
Should follow then in diuellish im [...]ation:
So farewell pipe, and pudding, stuffe and smoake,
My Muse thinks fit to leaue, before the choake.

Certaine verses written in the Barbarian tongue, dropt out of a Negroes pocket, which I thought good to insert, because they tend to [...] honour of Tobacco.

VAprosh fogh stinkguash slauorumques fie fominoshte Spitterspaw [...]smon, loather so hem halk [...]sh spewrsb [...]shte Mistrum fo [...] smoakrash, choakerumques olifa [...]rish trash. Dam durt [...]cun belehum, contagio [...]te vem [...]troshe: Whifferum, puffe gulpum, allisnuff huff fleaminon odish, Rewmito contaminosh disbo [...] dungish odorish:

To the Right Honourable, Lord, Wil­liam Earle of Pembroke, WILLIAM HERBERT.
Anagramma. My heart will beare.

RIght Noble Lord, whose brest doth beare a heart
Which is a Patron vnto Armes and Art:
Inspight of Enuy, still thy fame shines cleere:
For none but honor'd thoughts thy heart wil beare.
WHen I but think, the daies we wander in,
How most part of the world do liue by sin:
How finely Satan shewes his cunning s [...]ill,
That one man gets his goods, from others ill,
[Page 254]Doe not the Lawyers liue like mighty Lords;
On brawles, on iar [...]res, contentions and discords,
When if men (as they should) would but agree,
A Tearme would scarcely yeeld a Lawyers fee?
Let vsurers bragge of conscience what they can,
They liue like deuils, vpon the bane of man:
The racking Land-lord gets his ill got store,
By raysing rents, which make his tenants poore:
Clap-shoulder Serieants get the deuill and all,
By begg'ring and by bringing men in thrall.
Like Gentlemen, the Iaylors spend their liues
By keeping men in fetters, bonds and gyues:
The vintner and the vict'lar get most gaines
From dayly drunkards, and distemperd braines:
From whence do Iustice Clerks get most they haue,
But from the whore, the thiefe, the bawd, the knaue?
In what consists the hangmans greatest hope,
But hope of great imployment for the rope?
The very blue-coate Beadles get their trash,
By whips and rods, and the fine firking lash.
But leauing these, note but how Corporations
From others vices, get their reputations:
The vpstart veluet silken satten gull,
His owne purse empts, to fill the Mercers full:
When for his birth, or wit more fit agrees,
A breech of leather, and a coate of freese.
The Taylor is a Gentleman transform'd
For his inuenting fashions new deform'd,
And those that make the Verdingales and bodies,
Get most they haue, from idle witlesse nodies.
The Tires, the Periwigs, and the Rebatoes,
Are made t'adome ilshap'd Inamoratoes.
Yea all the world is falue to such a madnesse,
That each man gets his goods from others badnesse.
The Chirurgian and Phisicion get their stockes,
From Gowts, from Feauers, Botches, Piles, & Pocks:
With others paine, they most of all are pleas'd,
And best are eas'd, when others are diseasd.
As Sextons liue by dead, and not by quicke,
So they liue with the sound, but by the sicke.
Thus each man liues by other mens amisse,
And one mans meat, anothers poyson is.

To the Right honourable Iohn Lord Viscount Haddington, Earle of Holdernes, Iohn Ramsey.
Angaramma I ayme Honors.

THrice worthy Lord, whose vertues do proclaime,
How Honors noble marke is still thy Ayme,
T' attaine the which, thou holdst thy hand so steady,
That thy deserts haue wo [...]ne the prize already.

To the Honourable Knight Sir Thomas Bludder.
Anagramma Arm'd, Thus bold.

GOd is my Captaine, my defence and hold,
Through faith in him, I am thus arm'd thus bold [...]

Vpon the Powder Treason the fifth of Nouember 1605.

THis day old D [...]mon, and the damned Crue,
Our King and Kingdome in the ayre had tost:
But that our God their diuellish practice crost,
And on their treacherous heads the mischiefe threw
No Pagan, Tartar, Turke or faithlesse Iew,
Or hels blacke Monarch with his hatefull host,
Since first amongst them Treason was ingrost,
No plot like that from their inuention flew.
But when they thought a powder blast, a breath
Should all this Iland into totters teare:
Th' Almighties mercy freed vs from that feare,
And paid the Traitors with infamous death.
For which, let King, and all true Subiects sing
Continuall praise vnto Heau'ns gracious King.

To the Right Honourable Iob [...] Moray, Lord Viscount Annan, Earle of Annandale, Gentleman of his Maiesties Honourable Bed­chamber.
Anagramma I ayme Honour.

INdustrious Loyalty doth dayly tell,
You Ayme at honour, and you leuell well,
And with your trusty seruice shoot so right,
That in the end you sure will hit the white.

Twelue Sonnets vpon the Sonnes en­tring into the twelue Caelestiall Signes.

The 10. of March, the Sunne enters in­to Aries, or the signe of the Raw.

March 10. Aries.

DIurnall Titans all reuiuing Carre,
Through all the heauens his progresse now he [...]
[Page 255]And now his glistering Raies he doth vnbarre:
And what his absence mard, his presence makes:
Now he begins dame Tellus face to parch,
With blustring Boreas & with Eurus breth,
Thicke clouds of dust in March, through ayre doth march,
And Plants dead seeming Re-reuines from death.
Now at the heauy-headed horned Ram,
AEo [...] AErbon, Phlogon, and Pyrois,
[...] sweet Ambrosya sweetly feede and cram,
And drinking Nector's gods carowsing iuice,
Thus yeerely, one and thirty daies at least,
In Aries Titan daines to be a guest.

To the Right Honourable Chri­stopher Villers, Earle of Anglesey.
Anagramma, Christ is our helper.

TO me and mine, our onely comfort's this,
In all good Actions, Christ our helper is.
The 11. of Aprill he comes into Taurus, or the
Signe of the Bull.

Taurus.

HIpericon now's remou'd vnto the Bull,
And seemes all hid in Mists and watry bowres:
Till wollsacke seeming cloudes are bursting full,
And then he glides the Aire with golden showres.
He shines, he hides, he smiles, and then he lowres,
Now glorious glowing, and straight darkned dim:
He's now obscur'd, and now his beames out powres,
Asskies are cleare, or thicke twixt vs and him.
Thus all the Aprill, at bo-peepe he plaies.
[...]circling daily the Rotundious spheare.
And at the Bull he hides his glistring raies,
Til [...] ayre is purgde of cloudes, and skies are cleare.
Then he the head-strong Taurus. soone forsakes,
And to his Summer progresse haste he makes.

To the Right Honorable the Earle of Manchester, Lord priuy Seale to the Kings Matestie, HENRY MONTAGVE.
Anagramma Gouerneth many.

AMongst a Million, there is hardly Any,
That (like your selfe) so well doth gouerne Many.
The 12. of May the Sunne enters into Gemini, or the Twinnes.

Gemini, May.

NOw bright fac'd Sminthus, with faire Flora meet
Adorning her with Natures best attire:
Trees, plants, hearbs, flowres, & odoriferous sweet
With Birds all chaunting in their feathered quire.
Now countrie Tom and Tyb haue their desire,
And rowle and tumble freely on the grasse,
The Milke-maide gets a greene gowne for her hir
And all in sport the time away doe passe,
The bird, the beast, the lusty lad, the lafle:
Doe sing, doe friske, doe clip, doe coll, doe kisse,
Not thinking how the time must be, or was,
But making pleasant vso of time as tis,
Till Sminthus leaues his lodging at the twinnes.
And to a hotter race his course beginnes.

To my approued good friend, M r Robert Branthwayte.
Anagramma. You beare a heart true bent.

LEt fortune smile or frowne, you are content,
At all Assares you beare a heart true bent.

The 12. of Iune the Sunne enters into Cancer or the Crabbe.

Cancer. Iune.

OF all the Innes where Sol doth vse to lie,
With crabbed Cancer none may make cōpare:
It is the highest in the loftie sk [...]e,
All other signes to it inferiour are.
When Sol is once ascended and come there:
He scalds and scorches with his heauenly heate:
Makes fields of grasse, and flowrie medowes bare,
And though the idle worke not, yet they sweate,
Thus like an all-commanding lord he swaies,
High mounted in his chiese So [...]stician pride:
For when the Cancer hee immures his raies,
Vnto the height his glorie's amplifide.
And when he goes from thence, he doth beginne
By shorter Iourneyes to attaine his Inne.
The thirteenth of Iuly the Sunne enters into
Leo, or the Lion.

Leo. Iuly.

THe worlds eye daz'ler in his fiery race,
Doth at the Lyon lodge his vntam'd Steeds:
[Page 256]And now the ripening yeere begins apace
To shew Dame T [...]llu [...], procreatiue seeds.
For as from man, mans generation breeds,
So by manuring of our Grandam Earth,
Are brought forth fruits, & flowres, and hearbs, and weeds,
To shield ingratefull man from pining dearth.
The dogged dog daies now with heat doe swelt,
And now's the season, of th'vnseasn'd aire:
When burning seauers make the patient melt,
Whose heat the Doctors hardly can repaire:
For why, these cur [...]ish daies are fatall still,
And where they chance to bite, they vse to kill.

The foureteenth of August, the Sunne enters into Virgo, Or the Virgin.

Virgo. August.

VNhappy phaetons Splendidious Sire,
Left amorous bussing beauteous Climens lips,
And all inspir'd with Loues coelestiall fire:
His Globe surrounding Steed amaine he whips:
And to the Virgur Virgo downe doth glide,
Where for she entertain'd him to his pleasure,
He his exchequer coffers opens wide,
And fils the world with haruests wisht for treasure,
Now country Hindes vnto their tooles betake,
The forke, the rake, the sithe, the hooke, the cart,
And all a generall expedition make,
Till Nature be left naked by their art.
At last the Virgin, when these things are don,
Till that time twelue-month leaues her Loue the sun.

The thirteenth of September, the Sunne enters into Libra, Or the Ballance.

Libra. September.

THe Great all-seeing burning eye of day,
In Libra [...]s Ballance restlesse comes to rest,
Where equally his way he seemes to wey:
And day and night with equall houres are drest:
By these iust scales, true iustice is exprest,
Which doth to times and places render right,
Where wealth insults not, nor the poore opprest,
But all's eu'n poyzed, like the day and night.
And now this lampe of light doth here alight,
Making this Signe, his Equinoctiall Inne,
Whilst fruitfull trees are ouer-laden quite:
(Too great a gracious guerdon for mans sinne)
And as in March he 'gan to doe vs grace,
So to th' Antipodes he now 'gins shew his face.

The foureteenth of October, the Sunne enters into Scorpio.

Scorpio. October.

ILlustrious Phoebus now declines amaine,
His golden head within the Scorpion dwells.
Now boystrous blasts of wind, and showres of rain,
Of raging winters nigh approach foretells,
From trees sharpe Autu [...]ne, all the leaues expells,
For Phoebus now hath left his pleasant Innes,
Now Marchants Bacchus blood both buy and sell,
And Michaels Terme, lawes haruest now begins,
Where many losers are, and few that wins:
For law may well be cal'd contentions whip,
When for a scratch, a cuffe, for pointes or pins,
Will witlesse gets his neighbour on the hip.
Then tone the tother vnto law will vrge,
And vp they come to giue their purse a purge.

The eleuenth of Nouember, the Sunne enters into Sagitarius, Or the Archer.

Sagitarius. Nouember.

THus Luna's brother lower doth descend,
And at the Archer rests his radient Waine,
Now winters bitter blasting stormes contend.
T'assault our hemespheare, with might and maine,
The fields and trees disrobed all againe,
Starke naked strip'd of hearbs, of howres, of fruits
And now the Lord, the Lowne, the Sir, the Swai [...]e,
Against the freeze, of Freeze make winter suites.
Now ch [...]rping birds are all turn'd tounglesse mutes,
And Shepheards swaines to sheephouse d [...]ue their sheep
Not controuersies now are in disputes
At Westminster where such a coyle they keepe;
Where man doth man within the Law betosse,
Till some go croslesse home by Woodcocks Crosse [...]

The eleuenth of December, the Sunne enters in­to Capricorne, Or the Goat.

Capricornus. December.

A Pollo hath attain'd his lowest seat,
And now the shortnesse of his race is such,
That though his Glory for a time be great,
He giues his Sister Cynthia twice as much.
Now is the welcom'st time of all the yeere,
Now dye the oxen, and the fatted hogs:
Now merry Chirstmas fils the world with cheere,
And chimnies smoake with burning logge on logs.
He that's a mizer all the yeere beside,
Will reuell now, and for no cost will spare,
A poxe hang sorrow, let the world go slide,
Let's eate and drinke, and cast away all care.
Thus when Apollo's at the horned Goate,
He makes all Christendome with mirth to [...]or [...].

[Page 257] The tenth of Ianuary, the Sunne enters into A­quarius, Or the signe of the Waterbearer.

Aquarius, Ianuary.

THe Glorious Great Extinguisher of Night,
Immures his bright translucent golden head,
And from his radiant teeme he doth alight,
To rest his Steeds in cold Aquarius bed.
Now hory frost, hath Tellus face o'rspred,
And chilling numnesse whets the shauing ayre,
All vegitable creatures now seeme dead.
Like curelesse cures, past and repast repaire:
[...]igidious Ianus two-fold frozen face,
T [...]mes moyst Aquar [...]us into congeal'd yee:
Though by the fires warme side the pot haue place,
Of winters wrath it needs must know the price.
At last, daies burning toarch, againe takes horse,
And into wetter weather makes his course.

The ninth of February, the Sunne enters into Pisces, Or the signe of the two fishes.

Pisces. February.

Now snow, and rain, and haile & slauering sleet,
(The Delphean god hath suckt from sea and land,
With exhalations) now the earth they greet:
Powr'd downe by Iris liberall hand,
If soulefac'd February keepe true touch,
He makes the toyling Plowmans prouerbe right;
By night, by day, by little and by much,
It fills the ditch, with either blacke or white:
And as the hard cornuted butting Ram,
At setting forth was Tytans daintiest dish:
So to conclude his race, right glad I am,
To leaue him feasting with a messe of fish.
And long in Pisces he doth not remaine,
But leaues the fish, and falls to flesh againe.

To the Right Honourable Tho­mas Lord Ridgewaye, Treasurer.
THOMAS RIDGEWAYE. Anagramma. God Armes thy way.

Againe,

Age is made worthy.
THough sinne and hell worke mortals to betray,
Yet 'gainst their malice still, God Armes thsway.
When life and lands, and all away must fade,
By Noble actions, Age is worthy made.

Certaine Sonnets made in the forme of AEquiuoques; on the de­struction of Troy.

VVHen Hellen was for Priams sonne a mate,
From Greece berest by Parto & his Band:
Which caus'd the Greekes, the Troian m [...]rds ama [...]e,
Som curl'd the boy; and other some they band:
The strum pet Queene which brought the burning brand,
That Illion fir'd & wrack'd old I' [...]am [...] Race:
And on their Names long liuing shame d [...]d brand,
(For head-strong lust runnes an vnbounded [...]ace.)
This beauteous peece, whose feature radiant b [...]aze,
Made Menelaus horne-mad warre to wage:
And set all Troy in a combustious blaze,
Whose ten yeeres triumphs scarce was worth [...] wage,
For all their conquests, and their battring Rams,
Their leaders most return'd, with heads like Rams.

To the Right Honourable, the Lord Viscount Grandison.

Anagramma. Harts Ioyne in loue.
THy loyall seruice to thy King, doth proue,
That to thy Countrey, thy Hart Ioyns in loue.
VVIth raging madnesse and with fury fell,
Great Diemed, and Atax left their Tents.
And in the throat of death, to blowes they fell,
To make more worke for plaisters, and for tents.
With blood imbruing all the Phrygian Clime,
Whilst men like Autumne leaues drop dying downe:
Where som th'row blood & woūds to honor clime,
And some their mangled hims bestrows the downe:
Whilst Par [...]s with his Hellen in his Armes
Imbraces her about the wastfull wast:
Saw many a Gallant Knight in burnisht Armes,
Who from their Teuts made haste to make more waste:
Who to their Teuts did ne'r returne again.
Thus warres makes gaine a losse, and losse a gaine.
HAd Priams Queene in Cradle slaine her Sonne,
The lustfull Paris (hoplesse boy) I meane:
Then Illions Towers might still haue brau'd the Sun:
His death to saue their liues had beene the meane.
Vnlucky lucke, when Iuno, Venus, Prllas
Did craue his censure vpon Ida Mount:
Whence sprung the cause that Troy & Priams Palace
Were burnt, which erst the skyes did seem to moūt.
Had he been drown'd or strangled with a cord,
He had not rob'd Oenon of her heart:
[Page 258]Or had he dy'd, ere Hellen did accord
With him, to head her husband like a Hart.
But Troy, it is thy fate, this knaue and Baggage
Confounds thy state, and fire thy bag & baggage.
TRoyes fruitfull Queene did many children beare,
So braue, heroicke, and so stout a Crue:
Who all in noble actions did accrue,
When age had made their Parents bald and bare,
They made their daintlesse courage to appeare,
Amidst the throngs of danger and debate:
Where wars remorselesse stroke kil'd many a Peer,
Whil'st swords, not words, their coūsels did debate:
But bloud on bloud, their fury could not sate,
For fierce Achilles did braue Hector gore:
To guerdon which, the Grecian in his gore,
Did wallow, whilest the Troians laughing sate.
Thus did Achilles bid the world adiew
For Hectors death, Reuenge did claime a due.
TEn wearie yeers these bloudy broyles did last,
Vntill the Greeks had form'd a woodden Steed:
Which they on Priam would bestow at last,
(When force preuailes not, falshood stands in stead.)
False Sinon (who so well could forge a lye,
Whose traitrous eyes shed many a trech'rous teare)
Knew well that in the horses wombe did lye,
The wolues that Troy did all in pieces teare.
Polyxena, Achilles deare-bought deare,
Was hew'd in gobbets on her louers graue,
King, Queene, and Troy, for Hellen paid too deare,
All felt the Grecian rage, both young and graue.
To Kings and Commons, death's alike, all one,
Except AEneas, who escap'd alone.
LO thus the burden of Adultrous guilt,
I showring vengeance, Troy and Troi [...]nes saw:
No age, no sexe, no beauty, Gold or guilt,
Withstood foretold Cassandraes sacred saw.
She often said false Hellens beautious blast
Should be the cause the mighty Grecian pow'r,
Their names, and fames, with infamy should blast,
And how the gods on thē would vengeance powre.
But poore Cassandra prophesied in vaine,
She clam'rous cries (as 'twere) to sencelesse Rocks.
The youths of Troy, in merry scornefull veine,
Securelesse slept, whil'st lust the cradle rocks:
Till bloudy burning Indignation came,
And all their mirth with mourning ouercame.

Certaine Sonnets: variously composed vpon diuers subiects.

Sonnet. 1

True Nobility.
GReat is the glory of the Noble minde,
Where life and death are equall in respect:
If fates be good or bad, vnkinde or kinde,
Not proud in freedome, nor in thrall deiect;
With courage scorning fortunes worst effect,
And spitting in foule Enuies cankred face.
True honour thus doth baser thoughts subiect,
Esteeming life a slaue, that serues disgrace.
Foule abiect thoughts, become the mind that's base,
That deemes there is no better life then this,
Or after death doth feare a worser place,
Where guilt is paid the guerdon of Amisse.
But let swolne enuy swell vntill shee burst,
The Noble minde defies her to her worst.

Sonnet. 2.

Enuy and Honour.
COuld Enuy dye, if Honour were deceast?
She could not liue, for Honour's Enuie's food:
She liues by sucking of the Noble blood,
And scales the loftie top of Fames high Crest.
Base thoughts compacted in the abiect brest,
The Meager Monster doth nor harme, nor good:
But like the wane, or waxe, of ebbe or flood,
She shunnes as what her gorge doth most detest,
Where heau'n-bred honour in the Noble minde,
From out the Cauerns of the brest proceeds:
There hell-borne Enuy shewes her hellish kind,
And Vultur like vpon their actions feeds.
But here's the ods, that Honour's tree shall grow,
When Enuie's rotten stump shall burne in woe.

Sonnet. 3.

Beauties luster.
DEw drinking Phoebus hid his golden head,
Balm-breathing Zephyrus lay close immur'd:
The silly Lambs and Kyds lay all as dead,
Skies, earth, and seas, all solace had abiur'd.
Poore men and beasts, to toylesome tasks inur'd,
In dropping manner spent the drowzy day:
All but the Owle, whose safety night assur'd,
She gladly cuts the ayre with whooting lay.
When lo, the blossome of blooming May,
From out her Coach maiestickly doth rise:
Then Tytan doth his radiant beames display,
And clouds are vanisht from the vaulty skies.
Sweet Zephyris gales reuiueth beasts and men,
Madge- Howlet scuds vnto her nest agen.

Sonnet. 4.

Hope and Despaire.
DOmestick broyles my tortur'd heart inuades
Twixt wau'ring Hope, and desp'rate black De­spaire:
To prosecute my sute the one perswades,
[Page 259]The other frustrates all my hopes with cares.
Hope sets me on, infer's shee's fayrest faire,
[...]dire disdaine doth dwell in foulest Cels,
And fell despaire calls beauty Enuies heire:
[...]hich torments me more then ten thousand hels.
[...] thus my former hope despaire expels:
[...]st which extremes whats best for me to doe:
[...] open armes, despaire 'gainst me rebels,
[...]ope traytor-like giues free consent thereto.
And till these traytors twaine consume my citty,
[...] restlesse rest, to rest vpon her pitty.

Sonnet. 5.

Three blinde Commanders.
BLinde fortune, sightlesse loue, and eyelesse death,
Like Great Triumue'rs swayes this earthly roome,
[...] actions, affections, and very breathe
Are in subiection to their fatall doome.
Ther's nothing past, or present, or to come,
That in their purblinde power is not comprizde:
[...]rom Crowne, to cart, from cradle to the toome,
[...]ll are by them defamde, or eternizde:
Why should we then esteeme this doating life
[...] Thats in the guideance of such blind-fold rule)
Whose chiefest peace, is a continuall strife,
Whose gawdy pompes the pack, and man the Mule,
Which liues long day, he beares, as he is able,
Til deaths blacke night, doth make the graue his stable?

Sonnet. 6.

In the praise of musicke.
[...]TWas Musick fetch'd Euridice from hell,
And rap'd grim Pluto with harmonious straines:
Renowned Orphens did with Musick quell
The fiends, and ease the tortur'd of their paines.
The Dolphin did account it wondrous gaines,
To heare Arion play as hee did ride:
Gods, fiends, fish, fowles, & shepheards on the plains
Melodious Musicke still hath! magnifide:
And ancient records plainely doe decide,
How braue Orlands, Palatine of France,
When he was raging mad for Meadors bride,
Sweet Musicke cur'd his crazed wits mischance.
For Musick's only fit for heau'ns high quire,
Which though men cannot praise enough, adutire.

Sonnet. 7.

The Map of misery.
LIke to the stone thats cast in deepest wane,
That rests not till the bottome it hath found,
So I (a wretch) inthrald in sorrowes caue,
With woe and desperations fetters bound:
The captiue slaue imprison'd vnder ground
Doom'd, there by fates t' expire his wofull daies,
With care o'rwhelmd, with grief & sorrow drownd
Makes mournfull moanings and lamenting layes,
Accusing, and accursing fortunes playes,
Whose wither'd Autumne leauelesse leaues his tree,
And banning death for his too long delayes, [...]
Remaines the onely poore despised hee.
If such a one as this, the world confine,
His mischiefes are his his sport compar'd with mine.

Sonnet. 8.

Another in prayse of musicke.
NO Poet crownd with euerliuing bayes
(Tho art like floods should frō his knowledge flow)
He could not write enough in Musicks prayse:
To which, both man and Angels loue doe owe,
If my bare knowledge ten times more did know,
And had ingrost all arte from Pernas hill:
If all the Muses should their skils bestow
On me, to amplifie my barren skill:
I might attempt in shew of my good will,
In Musicks praise, some idle lines to write:
But wanting iudgement, and my accent ill,
I still should be vnworthy to indite,
And run my wit on ground like ship on shelfe:
For musicks praise consisteth in it selfe.

A Cataplasmicall Satyre, com­posed and compacted of sundry sim­ples, as salt, vineger, wormewood, and a little gall, very profitable to cure the impostumes of vice.

A Sauage rough-hair'd Satyre needs no guide,
Wher's no way, from the way he cannot [...]lide:
Then haue amōgst you, through the brakes & briers,
From those who to the Cedars top aspires,
Vnto the lowest shrub, or branch of broome,
That hath his breeding from earths teeming womb.
And now I talke of broome, of shrubs and Cedars,
Me thinks a world of trees are now my leaders:
To prosecute this trauell of my penne,
And make comparison twixt trees and men,
The Cedars and the high cloud kissing Pynes:
Fecundious Oliues, and the crooked Vines:
The Elme, the Ash, the Oake, the Masty Beeche,
The Peare, the Apple, and the rug-gowned Peache,
And many more, for it would tedious be,
To name each fruitfull and vnfruitfull tree.
[Page 260]But to proceed, to show how men, and trees
In birth, in breed, in life, and death agrees:
In their beginnings they haue all one birth,
Both haue their nat'rall being from the earth,
And heauens high hand, (where he doth please to blesse,
Makes trees, or men, or fruitful, or fruitlesse.
In sundry vses trees do serue mans turne,
To build, t' adorne, to feed, or else to burne.
Thus is mans state in all degrees like theirs,
Some are got vp to th' top of honours stayres,
Securely sleeping on opinions pillow,
Yet as vnfruitfull, as the fruitlesse willow,
And fill vp roomes, (like worthlesse trees in woods)
Whose goodnesse all consists in ill got goods:
He like the Cedar makes a goodly show,
But no good fruite will from his greatnesse grow,
Vntill he die, and from his goods depart,
And then giues all away, despight his heart.
Then must his friends with mourning cloth be clad,
With insides merry, and with outsides sad.
What though by daily grinding of the poore
By bribry and extortion got his store:
Yet at his death he gownes some foure-score men,
And tis no doubt he was a good man then?
Though in his life he thousands hath vndone,
To make wealth to his cursed coffers run [...]
If at his buriall groats a piece bee giuen,
Ile warrant you, his soule's in hell, or heauen:
And for this doale perhaps the beggers striues,
That in the throng seuenteene doe lose their liues:
Let no man tax me here, with writing lies:
For what is writ, I saw with mine owne eyes:
Thus men like barren trees are feld and lopt,
And in the fire to burne are quickly popt:
Some man perhaps whilst he on earth doth liue,
Part of his vaine superfluous wealth will giue:
To build of Almshouses some twelue or ten,
Or more or lesse, to harbour aged men:
Yet this may nothing be to that proportion,
Of wealth which he hath gotten by extortion.
What ist for man (his greedy minde to serue)
To be the cause that thousands die and sterue:
And in the end, like a vaine-glorious theefe,
Will giue some ten or twelue a poore reliefe?
Like robbers on the way, that take a purse,
And giue the poore a mite to scape Gods curse.
But know this thou, whose goods are badly gotten,
When thou art in thy graue consum'd and rotten,
Thine heire (perhaps) wil feast with his sweet punk,
And Dice, and Drabb, and eu'ry day be drunk,
Carowsing Indian Trinidado smoake,
Whilst thou with Sulph'rous flames are like to choake.
See, see yond gallant in the Cloke-bag breech,
Hee's nothing but a Trunke cram'd full of speech:
He'l sweare as if 'gainst heau'n he wars would wage,
And meant to plucke downe Phoebus in his rage:
When let a man but try him, hee's all oathes,
And odious lies, wrapt in vnpaid for cloathes.
And this Lad is a Roaring boy forsooth,
An exlent morsell for the hangmans tooth.
He carelesly consumes his golden pelfe,
In getting which his Father damn'd himselfe:
Whose soule (perhaps) in quēchlesse fire doth broile,
Whilst on the earth his sonne keepes leuell coile.
Tis strange to Church what numbers daily flock,
To drinke the Spring of the eternall Rocke:
The great [...]ou [...]-sauing, Satan slaying Word,
Gainst sin, death, hell, th' alco [...] quering sacred sword
Where high lehonahs Trump [...]ters sound forth
From East to West, from Sou [...] vnto the North:
(For through all lands their Embasseyes are borne,
And neuer doe againe in vaine returne:)
Which either is of life to life the sauor,
Or death to death exilde from Gods sweet fauoor:
Which blisse or bane there's many daily heares,
Who leaue their hearts at home, & bring their eases [...]
And lest their reck lesse heads, the Word should smother,
As soon as'tenters t'one, it's out at tother.
For let a Preacher preach vntill he sweats,
Denouncing heau'ns great wrath in thundring threat [...]
Gainst sin and sinners, 'gainst high hearted pride,
Gainst murder which hath oft for vengeance cride,
Or enuie, Lechery, Auarice, or Swearing,
Or any other vice, theyle giue the hearing,
And say the Preacher wondrous paines did take,
And did a very learned Sermon make:
But what good Reformation hence proceeds,
Are Mountaine words, and little Mo [...]e-hill deeds.
Tell Vs'rers they are banisht from Gods hill,
Yet they'le continue in extortion still.
Tell the proud Courtier, that he is but earth,
He'le o're the poore insult and bragge of birth.
Expostulate the great Almighties Ire,
And tell the murdrer, hell shall be his hire,
Yet e're he'll pocket vp the least disgrace,
His en'mies guts shall be his Rapiers case.
Tell daily drunkards hell shall be their lot,
Thei'l knocke and call to haue the tother pot.
Tell Panders, Bawds, knaues, and adultrous whoors,
How they in hell must pay their cursed scores:
Tell Mizer chuffes who charitie doe banish,
How they from heau'n, eternally must vanish:
Tell all in generall of their liues amisse,
And tell them that hels bottomelesse abysse,
Must be their portions if they not repent,
Till true repentance heau'ns iust wrath preuent [...]
Yet when the Preacher all he can hath told,
Soules vnto firme are daily bought and sold.
The Mizer with his lecherie of Chinke,
On earth will giue his dropsie soule to drinke,
And though the Word beat on his Anuile heart,
From Vs'ry and extortion he'l not part,
[Page 261]The picbald Gallant to the Church will come
To heare his soules saluations totall summe:
Yet his high pride is in such hauty dotage,
Fogets he's sprung from a poore country Cotage.
The murdrer heares how reprobated Caine
Was curst of God, that had his brother slaine,
Yet when hee's from the Church, forgets it all,
And stabs a man for taking of the wall.
Should I through all mens seu'rall actions runne,
I know my businesse neuer would be done.
The rich man hates the poore man, and the poore
Doth enuie gainst the rich man for his store.
This is the blest soules euerliuing Bread,
In bounteous measure all the earth or'espread:
Some on the high way falls and takes no roote,
But is of no esteeme, trod vnder foote;
Some falles on stones, and some alights on thornes,
Deuor'd with fowles, or choak'd with scoffs or scornes,
Some little portion fals in fruitfull ground,
Th' encrease of which is to be seldome found.
For let men waigh their good deeds with their bad,
For thousand ils, one good will scarce be had.
And yet no doubt but God in store doth keepe
His neere deare children, his best stocke of sheepe.
For though vnto the world they are not knowne,
Yet tis sufficient God doth know his owne.
For though Elius thought himselfe was all
That had not offered sacrifice to Ball:
Lebonah answer'd him, seuen thousand more,
In Israel did this Idol not adore.
But who so much in this vile life are hated,
As those which to saluation are created?
For let a men refraine to drab or dice,
Out he vpon him then, he's too precise.
Let him forbeare to lie, to sweare, or banne,
O hang him rascall, he's a Puritan.
And sure I think the Deuill by that false name
Hath added thousands soules vnto his flame.
Some man ere hee'l be cal'd a Puritan,
Will turne a damned Machiauilian,
A Libertine, Papist, or else what not?
To keepe his name from so impure a blot.
I speake not this regarding their estate,
Who from our Church themselues doe separate,
For good indifferent Ceremonious rites,
And 'gainst our Churches gouernment backbites.
Nor doe I praise the louing Sisters loue,
Who often makes the Brethren's spirits moue,
And if 'twere lawfull (they would gladly kno)
To dresse their meate the Sabbath day or no.
And wherefore now the Churchmen of these daies,
Ride to and fro, to preach so many waies,
When Christ to his Apostles gaue in charge,
That they should seek and teach all nations large,
The way, that in his Lawes they might abide,
Christ bade them goe, he bade them not to ride,
These idle questionists, these schismatickes,
I hold no bettter then ranke heretickes:
But this I thinke not well, when honest hearts
Shall haue this impure name without desarts,
How then can my comparing be gaine stood?
For men are like to trees, some bad, some good.
But tatry, Satyre, thou too fast dost trot,
There's one thing more I had almost forgot,
And this is it, of Ale-houses, and Innes,
Wine-Marchants, Vintners, Brewers, who much wins
By others losing, I say more or lesse
Whose sale of hufcap liquor doe professe,
Should neuer bee to any office cald,
Or in no place of Iustice be instal'd:
The reason is, they gaine by mens excesse
Of diuellish quassing, and damn'd drunkennesse.
For why, should men be moderate in their drinke,
Much Beere, and bottle-Ale should stand and stinke:
And Mounsieur Claret, and sweet Signior Sacke.
Would lowre and turne vnto the Marchants wrack;
The Vintners then within their cellers deepe,
Such coniuring at midnight would not keepe.
This swynish sinne hath man of sense bereauen,
To bandy balles of blasphemy 'gainst heauen,
It is the way, the dore, the porch, the gate,
All other vices entor in thereat.
A drunken man in rage will stabbe his brother,
Hee'l Cuckold his owne father, whore his mother,
Reuile and curse, sweare & speak dangerous treason,
And when he's sober, hangs forn 't by th' weason.
How then should men a reformation giue,
To mend those crimes, that by those crimes do liue?
The Patriarke Noah did first plant the Vine,
And first did feele the powerfull force of wine,
And righteous Lot, by wine depriu'd of wit,
Foule Incest with his daughters did commit.
And Holophernes drunken lay in bed,
Whilst strong-faith'd, weake-arm'd Indith cut offs head.
Great Alexander out his Fauchion drewe,
And being drunke, his best friend Cl [...]tus slew.
If euery haire vpon the heads of men
Were quils, and euery quill were made a pen:
Were Earth to paper turn'd, and Seas to inke,
And all the world were writers, yet I thinke,
They could not write the mischiefs done by drink.
And such a custome men haue tane therein,
That to be drunke, is scarce accounted sinne,
But honest recreatiue merriment
The time is term'd that is in tippling spent.
A Marchants ship is richly fraught, ariues,
And for thanksgiuing that so well he thriues,
He makes a feast, and store of money spends,
Inuites his kinsfolke, creditors, and friends:
Where stormes, and Rocks and Pirats are forgot,
And triumphs made to Bacchus and the Pot.
A rich mans wife's deliuered of of a boy.
[Page 262]And all the houshold must be drunk for ioy.
The prisoner that's condemn'd to die and hang,
And by reprieue hath scap'd that bitter pang,
Will presently his old acquaintance call,
And ere he giues God thanks, to drinking fall.
Why drunkards common are, as lies, or stealing,
And sober men are scarce, like honest dealing.
When men doe meet, the second word that's spoke,
Is, Where's good liquour, and a pipe of smoake?
The labouring man that for his hire doth serue,
Let Landlord tarry, wife and children sterue,
With not a bit of bread within the house,
Yet hee'l sit on the Ale-bench and carowse.
Thus like an Inundation drink doth drowne
The Rich, the Poore, the Courtier and the Clowne.
Since then to be a drunkard, is to be
The sincke of Incest, and Sodomitry,
Of Treason, swearing, fighting, beg'ry, murder,
And diuers more, I then will goe no furder:
But here my Satyrs stinging whip I'le waste
In lashing dropsie drunkards out of taste.
How then can it be possible that such,
Who sell Wine, Beere, or Ale, doe gaine so much,
Should punish drunkards, as the Law commands,
In whose vaine spending, their most gaining stands?
It were all one as if a Mercer did
To weare Silke, Veluet, Cloth of Gold forbid.
And Victlers may as wisely punish those;
I rom, whom their daily drinks, great gettings growes.
I would haue all old drunkards to consent
To put a Bill vp to the Parlament:
That those by quaffing that haue spent their wealth,
Consum'd their times, their memory, their health,
And by excessiue spending now are bare,
That Merchants, Brewers, Vintners, should prepare
Some Hospitals to keepe them in their age,
And cloath, and feed them, from fierce famines rage:
For euery one whose hard vnlucky lots,
Haue beene to be vndone by empting pots,
I hold it fit that those the pots that filde,
Should contribute those Almes houses to build.
Yet one obiection would this bill debarre,
Too many drunkards there already are;
And rather then this law would bate their store,
I feare 'twould make them twise as many more.
For why, to drink most men would be too bold,
Because they would haue pensions being old,
And men (of purpose to this vice would fall,
To be true beads-men to this hospitall.
Then let it be as it already is.
But yet I hold it not to be amisse)
Those Drinke-sellers, from office to exclude.
And so for that my Satyr doth conclude,
I could rippe vp a Catalogue of things,
Which thousand thousands to damnation flings,
But all my paines at last would be but idle.
It is not man can mens Affections bridle.
Sinne cannot be put downe with inke and paper,
No more then Sol is lightned with a Taper.

To Mistresse Rose.
Anagramma. SORE.

SOund Rose, though Sore thy Anagram doth meane,
Mistake it not, it meanes no sore vncleane:
But it alludes vnto the lofty skie,
To which thy vertue shall both Sore and flye.

To my approued good friend M r. ROBARTE CVDDNER.
Anagramma. Record and be true.

MY thoughts Record, and their account is true,
I scarce haue better friends aliue then you.

A nest of Epigrams.

Fortune. 1.

TIs Fortunos glory to keepe Poets poore,
And crau [...] weake witted Idiots with her store;
And tis concluded in the wisest schooles,
The blinded drab shall euer fauour fooles.

Epigram 2.

Loue.
LOue is a dying life, a liuing death,
A vapor, shadow, bubble, and a breath:
An idle bable, and a paltry toy,
Whose greatest Patron is a blinded boy:
But pardon loue, my iudgement is vniust,
For what I spake of loue, I meant of lust.

Epigram 3.

Death.
THose that scape fortune, & th'extremes of loue,
Vnto their longest homes, by death are droue:
Where Caesars, Kaesars, Subiects, Abiects must
Be all alike, consum'd to durt and dust:
Death endeth all our cares or cares encrease,
It sends vs vnto lasting paine, or peace.

Epigram 4.

Fame.
VVHen Fortune, Loue and Death their tasks haue doon,
Fame makes our liues through many ages run:
For be our liuing actions good or ill,
Fame keepes a record of our doings still:
By Fame Great Iulius Caesar euer liues;
And Fame, infamous life to Nero giues.

Epigram 5.

Time.
ALL making, marring, neuer turning Time
To all that is, is period, and is prime:
Time weares out Fortune, Loue, and Death & Fame,
And makes the world forget her proper name.
Th [...]'s nothing that so long on earth can last,
But in conclusion, Time will lay it wast.

Epigram 6.

Ka mee, kae thee.
MY Muse hath vow'd, reuenge shall haue her swindge
To catch a Parrat in the Woodcocks sprindge.

Epigram 7.

Solus.
THe land yeelds many Poets, were I gone,
The water sure (I durst besworne) had none.

Epigram 8.

Selfe-conceit.
SOme Poets are, whose high pitcht lofty straines
Are past the reach of euery vulgar wight:
To vnderstand; which, twill amaze weake braines,
So mysticall, sophisticall they write:
No maruell others vnderstand them not,
For they scarce vnderstand themselues, I wot.

Epigram 9.

A couple.
ONe read my booke, and said it wanted wit,
I wonder if he meant himselfe, or it:
Of both: if both, two fooles were met I troe,
That wanted wit, and euery foole doth so.

Epigram 10.

Bacchus and Apollo.
THe thigh-borne bastard of the thundring Ioue,
(Whē mens inuentiōs are of wit most hollow)
He with his spitefull iuice their sprites doth mooue.
Vnto th' harmonious musicke of Apollo:
And in a word, I would haue all men know it,
He must drinke wine, that means to be a Poet.

Epigram 11.

Of translation.
I Vnderstand or knowe no forraigne tongue,
But their translations I doe much admire:
Much art, much paines, much study doth belong,
And (at the least) regard should be their hyre.
But yet I would the French had held together,
And kept their pox, and not translate them hether.

Epigram 12.

Natures counterfeite.
WHen Adam was in Paradise first plac'd,
An dw th the rule of mortal things was grac'd,
Then roses, pinkes and fragrant gilliflowres,
Adornd & deckd forth Edens blessed bow [...]es:
But now each Gill weares flowres, each Punk hath pinks,
And roses garnish Gallants shooes, me thinks:
When rugged Winter, robs fairy Floraes treasure,
Puncks can haue pinks and roses at their pleasure.

Epigram 13.

The deuill take bribery.
A Man attach't for murdering of a man,
Vnto the for-man of his Iury sent
Two score angels, begging what he can,
He would his conscience straine, law to preuent:
That his offences Iudge, might iudge no further,
But make manslaughter of his wilfull murther:
The verdict was manslaughter to the Iudge.
The Iudge demanded how it could be so?
The for-man said his conscience much did grudge:
But forty angels did perswade him no.
Well (quoth the Iudge) this case shall murther be,
If halfe those angels not appeare to me.
Thus when the law men to confusion driues,
The godlesse angels will preserue their liues.

Epigram 14.

The deuill is a knaue.
I Shell dislikes the surplusse and the cope,
And calls them idle vestments of the Pope:
And mistresse Mande would goe to Church full faine,
But that the corner cap makes her refraine:
And Madam Idle is offended deepe,
The Preacher speakes, so lowde, she cannot sleepe:
Lo, thus the deuill sowes contentious seed,
Whence sects, & schismes, and heresies do breed.

Epigram 15.

Kissing goes by fauour.
BEmbus the Burgomaster liues in paine,
With the Sciatica, and the Cathar.
Rich Grundo of the dropsie doth complaine,
And with the Gowt these mizers troubled are.
If Tinkers, Coblers, Botchers, be infected
With Bembus Lamenesse or with Grundoes Gowt:
Like pocky fellowes they must bee reiected,
And as infectious rascals bee kept out,
And not come neere where wholesome people flocks:
Thus rich mens sicknesses, are poore mens pocks.

Epigram 16.

Deere no Venison.
PRocilla alwaies calls her husband Deere,
Belike shee bought him at too deare a rate,
Or else to make the case more plaine appeare,
Like to a Deere she hath adorn'd his pate:
If it be so, god Vulcan send her lucke;
That she may liue to make her Deere a Bucke.

Epigram 17.

Euery thing is prettie when it is little.
THere is a saying old; (but not so wittie)
That when a thing is little, it is prettie:
This doating age of ours it finely fits;
Where many men thought wise, haue pretty wits.

Epigram 18.

I meant somewhat.
ONe ask'd mee what my Melancholy meanes?
I answer'd, 'Twas because I wanted meanes.
He ask'd what I did by my answer meane?
I told him still, my meanes were too too meane.
He offer'd me to lend me pounds a score.
I answer'd him, I was too much in score.
He finding me in this crosse answ'ring veine,
Left me in want to wish for wealth in vaine.

Epigram 19.

Faith without workes.
A Mongst the pure reformed Amsterdammers,
(Those faithfull Friday feasting capon crāmers)
Only in them (they say) true faith doth lurke:
But 'tis a lazy faith, 'twill doe no worke.
O should it worke, ther's many thousand feares,
'Twould set the world together by the eares.

Epigram 20.

Partiality.
STrato the Gallant recles alongst the street,
His addle head's too heauy for his feete:
What though he sweare and swagger, spurn & kick,
Yet men will say the Gentleman is sick?
And that 'twere good to learn where he doth dwell,
And helpe him home, because he is not well.
Strait staggers by a Porter, or a Carman,
As bumsie as a fox'd flapdragon German:
And though the Gentlemans disease and theirs,
Are parted onely with a paire of sheares:
Yet they are Drunken knaues; and must to th' stocks,
And there endure a world of flouts and mocks.
Thus whē braue Strato's wits with wine are shrunk,
The same disease will make a begger drunke.

Epigram 21.

A keeper of honesty.
DEliro should of honesty be full,
And store of wisedome surely is within him.
What though he dally with a painted Trull,
And shee to folly daily seemes to win him?
Yet in him sure is honesty good store,
He vtters but his knauerie with a whore.
For he that spends too free, shall surely want,
Whilst he that spares, will liue in wealthy state:
So wit and honesty, with such are scant,
Who part with it at euery idle rate:
But men must needes haue honesty and wit,
That like Deliro neuer vtter it.

Epigram 22.

All's one, but one's not all.
TO wonder and admire, is all one thing,
If as Synonimies the words be tooke:
But if a double meaning from them spring,
For double sence your Iudgement then must looke
As once a man all soild with durt and mire,
Fell downe, and wonder'd not, but did admire.

Epigram 23.

Mistresse fine bones.
FIne Parnell wonderfully likes her choyce,
In hauing got a husband so compleate,
Whose shape and mind doth wholy her reioyce:
At bed, board, and abroad, he's alwaies neate:
Neate can he talke, and feed and neatly tread,
Neate are his feete, but most neate is his head.

Epigram 34.

A supposed Constructions.
MAry and Mare, Anagrammatiz'd,
The one is Army, and the other Arme,
[...] both their names is danger Moraliz'd,
[...] both alike, doe sometimes good or harme,
Mare's the sea, and Mare's Arme's a riuer,
And Mary's Armie's all for whatl' yee giue her.

Epigram 25.

Death is a Inggler.
A Rich man sicke, would needs go make his will,
And in the same, he doth command and will
The hundred pound vnto his man call'd Will,
Because hee alwaies seru'd him with good will:
But all these wills did proue to Will but vaine,
His master liues and hath his health againe.

Epigram 26.

Mistresse Grace onely by name.
GRace gracelesse, why art thou vngracious Grace?
Why dost thou run so lewdly in the race?
The cause wherefore thy goodnesse is so scant,
[...]ose what most thou hast, thou most dost want.

Epigram 27.

Prudence.
TIs strange that Prudence should be wilde and rude,
Whose very name doth Modesty include:
[...]e reason is, for ought that I can see,
Her name and nature doe not well agree.

Epigram 28.

Mercȳ.
MY Mercy hates me, what's the cause I pray,
Tis' cause I haue no money, thee doth say.
[...]mell Mercy, now I plainly see,
Without a see no mercie comes from thee.
[...]et in conclusion, euery idle gull
[...]ceines thy Mercy is vnmercifull.

Epigram 29.

Faith.
O Faith, thou alwaies vnbeleeuing art,
Faith in thy name, and faithlesse in thy heart.
[...]credidst all, but what is true and good,
[...]vertue rude, in vice well vnderstood.

Epigram 30.

Vpon my selfe.
MY selfe I like to an vntun'd Viall,
For like a Viall I am in a Case:
And whoso of my fortunes makes a triall,
Shall (like to me) be strung and tuned base.
And Trebles Troubles he shall neuer want:
But heeres the Period of my mischiefes All,
Though Base and Trebles, fortune did me grant,
And Meanes, but yet alas, they are too small.
Yet to make vp the Musicke, I must looke
The Tenor in the cursed Counter booke.

Epigram 31.

A Rope for Parrat.
WHy doth the Parrat cry a Rope, a Rope?
Because hee's cag'd in prison out of hope.
Why doth the Parrat call a Boate, a Boate?
It is the humour of his idle note.
O pretty Pall, take heed, beware the Cat.
(Let watermen alone, no more of that)
Since I so idlely heard the Parrat talke,
In his owne language, I say, Walke, knaue, walke.

Epigram 32.

Constants.
INconstant Constants all-bewitching feature,
Hath made faire Constance an inconstant Crea­ture:
Her Godmother was very much to blame,
To giue Inconstancy a constant name.
But 'twas a woman nam'd her so contrary,
And womens tongues and hearts doe euer vary.

Epigram 33.

Vpon the burning of the Globe.
A Spiring Phaeton with pride inspir'd,
Misguiding Phoebus Carre, the world he fir'd:
But Ouid did with fiction serue his turne,
And I in action sawe the Globe to burne.

Epigram 34.

Late Repentance.
A Greedy wretch did on the Scriptures looke,
And found recorded in that Sacred booke,
How such a man with God should sure preuaile,
Who [...]clad the naked, and visit those in Iaile,
And then he found how he had long mistak'd,
And oftentimes had made the cloathed nak'd:
In stead of visiting th' opprest in mones,
He had consum'd them to the very bones.
[Page 266]Yet one day he at leasure would repent,
But sudden death Repentance did preuent.

Epigram 35.

Not so strange as true.
THe stately Stag when he his hornes hath shed,
In sullen sadnesse he deplores his losse:
But when a wife cornutes her husbands head,
His gaines in hornes he holds an extreme Crosse:
The Stag by losing doth his losse complaine,
The man by gaining doth lament his gaine.
Thus whether hornes be either lost or found,
They both the loser and the winner wound.

Epigram 36.

A Wordmonger.
MAns vnderstanding's so obnubilate,
That when thereon I doe excogitate,
Intrinsicall and querimonious paines
Doe puluerise the concaue of my braines,
That I could wish man were vnfabricate,
His faults he doth so much exaggerate.

Epigram 37.

Plaine dunstable.
YOur words passe my capatchity good zur,
But ich to proue need neuer to goe vur:
Cha knowne men liue in honest exclamation,
Who now God woe liue in a worker fashion.
The poore man grambles at the rich mans store,
And rich men daily doe expresse the poore.

Epigram 38.

Reason.
KNowest thou a Traitor plotting damned Trea­son?
Reueale him, tis both loialty and Reason.
Knowest thou a thiefe will steale at any season?
To shun his company thou hast good reason.
Seest thou a villaine hang vp by the weason?
Hee hangs by reason that he wanted reason.
Good men are scarce, and honest men are geason.
To loue them therfore, tis both right and reason,
More I could say, but all's not worth two peason:
And therefore to conclude, I hold it reason.

Epigram 39.

Out of the [...] into the fire.
TOm senselesse to the death doth hate a play:
But yet he'l play the drunkard euery day.
He railes at plaies and yet doth ten times worse,
He'l dice, he'l bowle, he'l whore, he'l swear, he'l curs,
When for one two pence (if his humor please)
He might go see a play, and scape all these,
But tis mans vse in these pestiferous times;
To hate the least, and loue the greatest crimes.

Epigram 40.

A Poets similitude.
A Poet rightly may be termed fit
An abstract, or Epitome of wit:
Or like a Lute that others pleasures breed,
Is fret and strung, their curious cares to seed,
That scornfully distaste it, yet tis knowne,
It makes the hearers sport, but it selfe none.
A Poet's like a taper, burnt by night,
That wastes it selfe, in giuing others light.
A Poet's the most foole beneath the skies,
He spends his wits in making Idiots wise,
Who when they should their thankfulnesse returne,
They pay him with disdaine, contempt and scorne.
A Puritane is like a Poets purse,
For both do hate the crosse (what crosse is worse?)

Epigram 41.

Mecan [...]s Epitaph.
HEre lies the Steward of the Poets god,
Who whilst on earth his loued life abod,
Apollo's Daughters, and the heires of Ioue,
His memorable bounty did approue:
His life, was life to Poets, and his death
Bereau'd the Muses of celestiall breath.
Had Phoebus fir'd him from the loftie skies,
That Phoenix like another might arise,
From out his odoris [...]rus sacred embers,
Whose lou'd liues losse, poore Poetry remembers.

This line is the same backward, as it is forward, and I will giue any man fiue shillings apiece for as many as they can make in English.

Lewd did I liue, & euil did I dwel.

An Apologie for Water-men [...] Dedicated to Nowell, and Robert Clarke Esquires, Masters of his Maiesties Barges; and to the rest of the Masters, the Assistants of the Company of Watermen.

SVch imputations, and such daily wrongs,
Are laid on Watermen, by enuious tong [...]
To cleare the which, if I should silent be
'Twere basenesse, and stupidity in me.
Nor doe I purpose now with inke and pen,
[Page 267]To write of them as they are Watermen:
But this I speake, defending their vocation,
From slanders false, and idle imputation.
Yet should I onely of the men but speake,
I could the top of Enuies Coxcombe breake.
For I would haue all men to vnderstand,
A Waterman's a man by Sea or Land,
And on the land and sea, can seruice do,
To serue his King, as well as other too:
He'll guard his Country both on seas and shore,
And what (a Gods name) can a man doe more?
Like double men they well can play indeed
The Soldiers, and the Saylers for a need.
If they did yeerely vse to scowre the Maine,
As erst they did, in wars twixt vs and Spaine,
I then to speake, would boldly seeme to dare,
One Sailer with two Soldiers should compare.
But now sweet peace their skill at Sea soduls,
That many are more fit to vse their sculs,
Then for the sea, for why? the want of vse,
Is Arts confusion, and best skils abuse.
And not to be too partiall in my words,
I think no Company more knaues affords:
And this must be the reason, because farre
Aboue all Companies their numbers are:
And where the multitude of men most is,
By consequence there must be most amisse.
And sure of honest men it hath as many,
As any other Company hath any.
Though not of wealth they haue superfluous store:
Content's a Kingdome, and they seek no more.
Of Mercers, Grocers, Drapers, men shall finde.
Men that to loose behauiour are inclinde.
Of Goldsmiths, Silkmen, Clothworkers, and Skin­ners,
When they are at the best, they all are sinners.
And drunken rascalls are of euery Trade,
Should I name all, I o'r the bootes should wade?
If Watermen be onely knaues alone,
Let all that's senselesse cast at them a stone.
Some may reply to my Apology:
How they in plying are vnmannerly,
And one from tother, hale, and pull, and teare,
And reile, and brawle, and curfe, and ban, & sweare.
Is this I'l not defend them with excuses,
I alwaits did, and doe hate those abuses.
The honest vse of this true trade I sing,
And not th' abuses that from thence doe spring.
And sure no Company hath Lawes more strict,
Then Watermen, which weekely they inflict
Vpon offenders, who are made pay duely
Their fines or prison'd, 'cause they plide vnruly.
They keepe no shops, nor sell deceitfull wares,
But like to Pilgrims, trauell for their fares,
And they must aske the question where they goe,
If men will goe by water yea or no?
Which being spoke a right, the fault's not such,
But any Tradesman (sure) will doe as much.
The Mercer, as you passe along the way,
Will aske you what d'e lacke? come neer I pray.
The Draper, whose warme waredoth clad the back,
Will be so bold as aske ye, What d'e lack?
The Goldsmith with his siluer and his gold,
To aske you, What d'e lack? he will be bold.
This being granted as none can deny,
Most Trades aswell as Watermen doe ply:
If in their plying they doe chance to iarre,
They doe but like the Lawyers at the Barre,
Who plead as if they meant by th'eares to fall,
And when the Court doth rise, to friendship fall.
So Watermen, that for a fare contends,
The fare once gone, the Watermen are friends.
And this I know, and therefore dare maintaine,
That he that truely labours and takes paine,
May with a better Conscience sleepe in bed,
Then he that is with ill got thousands sped.
So well I like it, and such loue I owe
Vnto it, that I'll fall againe to Rowe:
'Twill keepe my health from falling to decay,
Get money, and chase Idlenesse away.
I'm sure it for Antiquity hath stood,
Since the worlds drowning vniuersall Flood,
And howsoeuer now it rise or fall,
The Boate in Noahs Deluge carried all.
And though our wits be like our purses, bare,
With any Company wee'll make compare
To write a Verse, prouided that they be
No better skild in Schollership then wee.
And then come one, come thousands, nay, come all,
And for a wager wee'll to Versing fall.

Epilogue to those that know what they haue read, and how to censure.

TO you whose eares and eyes haue heard & seene
This little pamphlet, and can iudge betweene
That which is good, or tol'rable, or ill,
If I with Artlesse Nature wanting skill,
Haue writ but ought, that may your thoughts con­tent,
My Muse hath then accomplisht her intent.
Your fauors can preserue me, but your frownes
My poore inuentions in obliuion drownes.
With tolerable friendship let me craue
You will not seeke to spill, what you may saue.
But for the wrymouth'd Critick that hath read,
That mewes & puh's, and shakes his brainlesse head
And saies my education or my state;
Doth make my verse esteem'd at lower rate,
To such a one this answer I doe send,
[Page 268]And bid him mend, before he discommend.
His Enuy vnto me, will fauours prooue,
The hatred of a foole breeds wise-mens loue.
My Muse is iocund that her labours merits
To be malign'd and scornd by Enuious spirits:
Thus humbly I craue pardon of the best,
Which being gaind, Sir reuerence for the rest.
FINIS.

A MEMORIALL OF ALL THE ENGLISH MONARCHS, being in number 151. from Brute to King CHARLES.

TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE, LIONEL Lord Viscount Cranefield, Earle of Middlesex, &c.

MY humble Muse, in lofty manner sings
a A Catalogue of Englands mighty Kings:
At first I do begin with Troian BRVTE,
And following Chronicles I do dispute,
Proceeding briefely with their Raignes and Names,
Till these blest dayes of our best Monarch IAMES,
Tis but an Argument thats written here,
That in such time such and such Princes were:
But he that meanes their Actions were to know,
May read Boetius, Hollinshed, or Stow,
Or our true labouring Moderne Master How,
Which Authors, Learned Iudgement do allow:
Or if youle see how former times doe runne,
Reade the laborious paines of Middleton.
We haue had Kings since Brute of royall Blood,
One hundred forty sixe, some bad, some good,
Foure Queenes in all, this time did only Raigne,
Whose Memories in Histories remaine.
So in two thousand and seuen hundred yeeres,
We had thrice 50 Princes it appeares.
This Kingdome here was fiue times won and lost,
And Kings (as God decreed) oft chang'd and tost.
Sometimes one swaid the Scepter, sometime twaine,
And sometime seuen at once did rule and raigne,
Till sixe (by bloudy warres) lost life and throne,
And valiant Egbert ioyn'd them all in one.
But since (through Heauens high prouidence) I see,
Tis growne more great, and greater like to be.
Long may He liue, by whom in one 'tis guided,
And may they sinke that wish't againe diuided.
[Page 269] [...]e (Noble Lord) with good acceptance take
[...] Poem, for the Royall Subiects sake,
[...]though it be not compleate as it should,
[...]with it, and accept of what I could,
[...] matter's worthy, though the manner's poore,
Which makes me heere your Patronage implore,
And may you be externall and internall,
Blest and aduanc'd to happinesse eternall.
Your Honours in all obseruance to be commanded, Iohn Taylor.

BRVTE, THE FIRST KING OF BRITTAINE, began his Reigne,
1. BRVTE.

[...]munds, 2858.

Before Christ, 1108.
AENE AS from subuerted Troy exilde,
In Tuscais wedded King Latinus childe:
By whom the Realme of Italy he gain'd,
And after he had 3. yeeres fully raign'd
He died, and left Ascanius in his stead:
To whom Siluius Posthumus did succeed.
From which Posthumus Royall loynes did spring,
[...] Great Brutus, Brittaines first commanding King:
The people then were (here) all voyd of pride,
Borne Naked, Naked liu'd, and Naked dy'd.
Three Sonnes Brute left, Locrinus was his Heire
To England, Cambria (Wales) was Cambers share,
To Albanact (the youngest) 'twas his lot,
To sway the Scepter of the valiant Scot.
Thus 'mongst his Sonnes this Ile he did diuide,
And after twenty foure yeeres Reigne he dy'd.

Brute being of the age of 15 yeeres, as he shot at a wild beast the arrow glanced unfortunately and slew his Fa­ther Sinius AEneas, for the which he was exiled, and came on this [...] then called Albyon.

I follow the common opinion: for many Writers doe nei­ther write or allow of Brutes being here, accounting it a dishonor for our Nation, to haue originall from a Pa [...]ide, and one that deriued his descent from the Goddesse (alias strumpet) Venus. Howsoeuer, Histories are obseured and clouded with ambiguities, some burnt, left, defaced by anti­quity; and some abused by the malice, ignorance, or partia­litie of Writers so that truth is hard to be found. Amongst all which variations of Times and Writers, I must con­clude there was a BRVTE.

Locrine 20. yeeres, 1034.
LOcrinus, Eldest of old Brutus Sonnes,
By Valour vanquisht the inuading Hunnes:
He chas'd them, & their power did quite confound,
And their King Humber was in a Humber, drownd:
This Locrine had a Queene, faire b Guendolin,
Yet folly led him to the Paphaean sinne,
Besotted sence, and blood with lust inflam'd,
He lou'd a beautie, Beautious Estrild nam'd,
By whom he had a Daughter, Sabrin hight,
In whome the King had whole and sole delight:
For which the Queene made war vpon her Lord:
And in the Fight she put him to the Sword;
And after a reuengefull bloody slaughter,
Queene Guendoline tooke Estrild and her daughter,
And drownd them both (to quéch her ielous flame)
And so from Sabrine, Seauerne got the name.

[Page 270]Yeeres before Christ.

Q. Guendoline, 1064.

About this time Saul was King of Israel.

VVHen 15. yeeres this Queen'had wisely raign'd,
She dy'd, & then her Son the kingdome gain'd.

Queene Guendoline was allowed the gouernment in her Sonne Madans minority, whose prudent reigne is ap­plausefully recorded in histories.

Madan, 1009.
VVHen forty yeers this King had rul'd this Ile,
(As Stories say) he died a death most vile:
The wide-mouth'd Wolfe, and keene-tusk'd brutish Bore,
Did eate his Kingly flesh, & drinke his gore.

Madan was a vicious and wicked Prince, the Sonne of Locrine and Guendoline. Hee was a great Tyrant. He built the Towne of Doncaster. Hee had two Sonnes, Mempricius and Manlius.

Mempricius raigned 20. yeeres, 991.
MEmpricius base, his brother Manlius slew,
And got the Crowne, by murder, not as due:
Maids, wiues, and widdowes, he by force destowr'd:
He liu'd a Beast, and dy'd, by a Beast, deuour'd.

Hee killed his elder brother trecherously as hee was parlying with him. Hee was eaten of Wolues at hee was hunting. Hee was so beastly, that he was taxed in histories to be a Sodomite with Beasts in his time.

Yeeres before Christ.

Ebranke, 989.

King D [...]uid [...] [...]

At Edinburgh the Castle he did found,
Alcluid & Tork, he built new from the ground
He builded Bambrough, and reigned sixty yeeres,
Belou'd, as it in Chronicles appeares.

Ebranke had 21. wiues, by whom he had 20. Sonnes; and 30. Daughters; hee inuaded Gallia, now Fr [...] He was the Sonne of Mempricius. In his Reigne [...] [...] King Salomon. Alcluid is Dumbreton in Scotland.

Brute the second, 929.
IF any noble act Brute Greeneeshield did,
Hee's wrong'd, because from Histories th'are hi [...]
Twelue yeeres he rul'd, that's all I of him read,
And how at Yorke, hee lyeth buried.

This Brute was the Sonne of Ebranke: and some histo­ries write doubtfully, that he conquer'd France, and th [...] after he receiued a great soyle in field by Brinchild, Brinchillus, Prince of Henoway, or Henault.

Leil. 917.
LEil Carleile built, and raign'd yeeres twenty fiue
And as Fame still keepes dead mens acts aliue:
So Leil (though dead) shall euer liue by Fame,
He lyes at Carleile, which himselfe did frame.

Leil was the Sonne of Brute Greeneshield. It is [...] written that he built the Citie of Chester. Lud, or Rud hudibras was the Sonne of Leil, a religious Prince [Page 271] [...] way of Paganis [...] for in those 3. Townes [...] built hee erected 3. Temples, and placed 3. [...] Pagan Bishops in them.

Yeeres before Christ.

Rudbudibrasse, 892.
His King built Canterbury, Winchester,
And Shastbury he from the ground did reare:
[...] after twenty nine yeeres reigne was past,
[...] bester sore sicke, he breath'd his last.
Bladud reign'd 20. 863.
BLathe was by Bladud to perfection brought,
By Necromanticke Arts, to flye hee sought:
[...] from a Towre he thought to scale the Sky,
[...] brake his necke, because he soar'd too high.

This Bladud had beene a Student in Athens, from [...] hee brought many learned men: bee built Stam­ [...] a Colledge I thinke, the first in England; striuing to [...] the foule or the foole, he brake his necke on the Tem­ [...] of Apollo in Troynouant.

Leire, 844.
LEire (as the Story saies) three daughters had,
The youngest good, the other two too bad:
[...]et the old King lou'd thē that wrong'd him most,
[...]e that lou'd him, he banisht from his Coast.
[...] [...] and Ragan, he betweene
[...] the Kingdome, making each a Queene,
But young Cordeilla wedded was by chance,
To Aganippus, King of fertile France:
The eldest Daughters did reiect their Sire,
For succour to the young'st hee did retire,
By whose iust aide the Crowne againe he gain'd;
And dyed when he full forty yeeres had reign'd.

Leire built Leicester and was a good Prince. At Ley­cester he built a Temple to Iames Bifrons, or Iames with two faces.

Yeeres before Christ.

Qu. Cordeilla, 805.
MAd Morgan, an vnmanner'd Cunedagus,
Their Aūt Cordeilla with fierce war did plagues
They vanquish'd her, and her in Prison threw.
And hauing reign'd fiue yeeres, her selfe she flew.

She reigned with her Husband Aganippus till he dyed, and then in her widowhead her cruell kinsmen opprest her. Shee stabb'd her selfe in prison, being tyrannously vsed, in despaire of her liberty.

Morgan Cunedagus, 800.
THen Morgan did 'gainst Cunedagus contend,
And at Glamorgan, Morgan had his end,
Then Cunedagus sole King did abide,
Full three and thirty yeeres, and then he dyed.

Morgan was the Sonne of Gonorel, Leires eldest Daughter, and Cunedagus his kinsman, was the Sonne of Ragan.

The Prophet Esay prophefied about this time.

[Page 272]Yeeres before Christ.

Riuallo, before Christ, 766.
THree daies it rain'd blood, when Riuallo reign'd,
And great mortalitie the Land sustain'd;
Hee forty six yeeres rul'd in Kingly State,
And then surrendred to all humane Fate.

This Land in this Kings reigne was almost vnpeopled with dearth, death and desolation. In his time Rome was builded, 356. yeeres after Brute: Innumerable multi­tudes of Horse-flyes or Hornets spring out of the blood, thus raind, which flyes strong many people to death. Riual­lo was buried as Yorke.

Gurgustus, 721.

Scicillius, 684.
A Common Drunkard was this wicked King,
Which vice did many other vices bring,
Yeeres thirty eight, the Diadem he wore,
Scicillius next raignd nine and forty more.

Gurgustus and Scicillius were bretbr [...]n. I finde little mentioned of any good they did, though they rsigned long: They were both the Sonnes of Riuallo.

Iago, 636.

Kimma [...]m, 612.
OF these two Kings, small mention I doe finde,
They left bare Names (for memorie) behinde;
One twentie fiue yeares: th' other fifty foure,
Had in this Land Commanding Regall power.

Iugo was a kinsman to Gurgustus, and by his vicious life, he got asleepy disease called the Lethargy, [...] dyed. These two Kings were both buried at Yorke.

Yeeres before Christ.

Gorbodug, 559.
GOrbodug next did in the Throne succeed,
Was sixty three yeeres King, and last dec [...]
'Twixt his two Sonnes this Kingdome to diuide [...]
At Yorke hee's buried, where in peace hee dy'd.

Some write that he reigned but 42. years and [...] he was buried at Troynouant.

Ferex, and Porex, 496.
POrex, in Fight his brother Ferex kil'd,
For which their mother, Porex heart bl [...]d s [...]
These murthers mercilesse, did quite de [...]ace,
These Princes, last of Royall Brutus Race.

Ferex and Porex were the sonnes of Cor [...]od [...] Their mother and her maides chopped Porex in [...] reuenge of her sonne Ferex: they reigned fiue yeeres: [...] whose death the Land was a long time diuided [...] Kingdomes.

Mulmutius Donwallo, 441.
THe Land vnguided, Kinglesse did remaine,
Till great Mulmutius did the Wreathe [...]

[Page 273]Yeeres before Christ.

He builded Temples, made Lawes, Ploughs, high­waies,
And 40. yeeres he liu'd infame and praise.

Mulmutius [...]lew Pinnar, Slater, and Rudack, three Kings of seuerall parts of this Ile, and at last brought the [...] Kingdome to his sole obedience. He was the Sonne of [...]ten Duke of Cornewall: He was the first of all the Kings of this Land that wore a crowne of Gold.

Bellinus and Brennus reigned 26. yeeres. 401.
THese brethren did diuide the Realme in twaine,
But Kings can brooke no partnership in reigne;
They fell at oddes, and Brenn [...]s fled, subdude
With slaughter of his warlike multitude.
To France he scap'd, and was receiu'd in State,
In London, Belline builded Bellinsgate,
[...]ane Brennus conquer'd Italy and Rome,
Bellinus lies heere in an honour'd Tombe.

Brennus slew himselfe with the sword, at the siedge of [...]elphos in Greece, Bochas. They were the sonnes of Mulmutius Donwallo. Belinus brought Denmarke to [...]butary to Brittaine: they were a paire of worthy bro­ [...].

G [...]rguintus, 373.
GVrguintus was Belinus first-borne sonne,
Victoriously he Denmark [...] ouer-runne:
[...]e the vnpeopled Ireland did supply,
[...]eign'd nineteen: yeeres a King, and then did dye.

This King gaue leaue to a company of stragling [...]ssed Spaniards to possesse themselues in Ireland: hee [...] buried at Caerlion.

Yeeres before Christ.

Guinthelinus, 456.
HE married Merci [...] a renowned Dame,
From whom the iust, [...] wise, Mer [...]an Statutes came:
He sixe and twenty yeeres the Scepter swaide,
And then with honour in his Tombe was laide.

He was the sonne of Gurguintus, he builed Warwick, and ly [...]th buried at London.

Cecilius, 330.

Kimarus, 223.
SEuen yeeres Cecilius kept the Regall Cha [...]re,
Three yeeres Kimarus rul'd as his [...]ole Heire;
The Syre with loue did well and [...]ustly reigne,
His sonne Kimarus was a hunting slaine.

About this time, a sauage people called the Picts, beg'd habitation of the King of Scots, and liued in the Mar­ [...]es betweene England and Scotland. Kimarus was a vicious Prince, and killed by wild Beasts as hee was hunting: he was the sonne of Cecilius. Cecilius. was buried at Caerlion.

Elanius, 321.
ELanius (as most Histories agree)
Was King of Brittaine yeeres iust three times three:
What Acts he did, or what Lawes he decreed,
They are vnwrit, and therefore are vnread.

Elanius was the sonne of Kimarus.

[Page 274]Yeeres before Christ.

Morindus reigned 8 yeeres, 311.
THis King Morindus, valiant more then wise,
A rau'ning Monster from the Sea did [...]ise:
Which many people to destruction brought,
Who kil'd this braue King as he brauely fought.

He killed the Monster, after the Monster had de [...] ­red him, for he was in the belly of it liuing, and found dead with his dagger in his hand.

Gorbomanus 303.
THis King eleuen yeers wore the Brittain crown,
He founded Cambridge, & built Grantham Town;
His subiects peace, past Kingdomes he prefer'd,
Lou'd and bewai [...]'d, at London was inter'd.
He built the Townes of Cambridge and Grantham.
Archigalo, and Elidurus. 392.
THese brothers were not Kings both at one time,
But for extortion (an vnkingly crime,
The Eldest hauing gaind his Subiects hate)
Depos'd, and Elidurus got the State.
But he (not greedy after worldly reigne)
To Archigalo gaue it vp againe.
Rul'd tenne yeeres more: thus twenty yeeres in all,
His State Maiesticke, did twice rise and fall.

Archigalo put away from him and reiected the true and ancient Nobility and Gentry: and in their roomes was supplyde with the counsels of flatterers and parasites, which was his downefall.

Yeeres before Christ.

Elidurus, 272. Vigenius, Peredurus, 270.
THen A [...]chigale beeing dead and gone,
Good Elidure two yeers kept Brittaines Throne.
Vigenius, Peredurus two yeeres more.
Thrust Elidure from all the sway he bore,
But they both dy'd the third time he was crown'd,
Elidurus, 261.
And reigned foure yeeres more, belou'd renown'd
Once subiect, twice a slaue, and thrice a King:
Thus Fortunes fauours vp and downe did sling.

Heere because Hystories make little or [...]o mention of any the doings of the Kings, from the reigne of Elidurus to King L [...], I thinke it fit, onely to insert their names, and the times of their reignes, with their yeeres before Christ.

258. Gerbonian reigned ten yeeres.
248. Morgan foureteene yeeres.
224. Emeria [...]s seuen yeeres.

This King was deposed from al [...] gall gouernment for his tyranny.

227. Iuall twenty yeeres.

This King was a iust and [...] Prince.

[Page 275]Yeeres before Christ.

207. Rimo sixteen yeeres.

His reigne was blest with abundance of Peace and Plenty.

191. Geruncius twenty yeeres.
171. Catillus ten yeeres.

Catillus caused all the oppressors of the poore to be hanged vp: but since his time they are doubly increased.

161. Coylus twenty yeeres.

A peaceable King, and a quiet reigne.

141. Porrex fiue yeeres.

A good Prince.

136. Chirimus one yeere.

Chirimus through excessiue drin­king got his death.

135. Tulgon two yeeres.
133. EL [...]red one yeere.

Yeeres before Christ.

132. Androgius one yeere.
131. Varianus one yeere.

Varianus giuen all to lust, purchsed himselfe a short reigne: and it may bee perceiued, that all these Princes either by treason, or their own bad liues, were soon brought to their ends, for 25 of them did not reigne aboue 62 yeeres.

12 [...]. Eliud fiue yeeres.
120. Dedamius fiue yeeres.
118. Gurginius three yeeres.
115. Merianus two yeeres.
113. Blodunus two yeeres.
110. Capenus three yeeres.

[Page 276]Yeeres after Christ.

108. Quinus two yeeres.
106. Silius two yeeres.
94. Bledgabredus ten yeeres.

A great louer of Musicke, and a good Patron to Musicians.

92. Archemalus two yeeres.
90. Eldolus two yeeres.
88. Rodianus two yeeres.
86. Redargius three yeeres.

Yeeres after Christ.

84. Samullius two yeeres.
81. Penisellus three yeeres.
78. Pirrhus two yeeres.
76. Caporus two yeeres.
74. Diuellus foure yeeres.

A Noble and ver [...]nous Prince.

70. Hellius one yeere.

The Ile of Ely tooke the n [...]m [...] ­tion from this Prince. There hee [...] a Palace, and there he dying was buried.

Lud reigned 11. yeeres, 66.
A Long time after Troynouant was fram'd,
It was by Lud, Kair-Lud, or Lud-sto [...]s nam'd

[Page 277]Yeeres before Christ.

[...]e made it strong with Battlements and Towres,
[...] against foes inuasiue pow'rs.
[...]free Stone for Free-men Ludgate hee founded,
[...] here freemen (wanting freedom) are confounded.
[...]dy'd and left two Sonnes, too young for reigne,
Therefore his brother did the Crowne obtaine.

Some Writers doe affirme, that this King builded Lon­don from Ludgate to London-stone, and that the stone [...] thereof was called Luds stone.

Cassibelan, 17. yeeres. 58.
V [...] dead the nobles crown'd Cassibelan,
[...] whose reign here the Romanes conquest wan,
[...] Iulius Caesar sailed out of France,
[...]in this Land his Eagle did aduance,
[...] bold scorn'd base at first to stoope,
[...] Caesar fled, before their warlike troope.
[...] Ciuill warres, this Kingdome ouer-runnes,
[...]twixt Cassibelan, and Luds two Sonnes,
[...] they (vnnaturall) sought each others fall,
[...] Romanes tooke aduantage, conquer'd all:
T [...] Caesar, by his high Imperiall doome,
[...] Britaine Tributary vnto Rome.

Nemias a valiant Duke of this Kingdome, receiued deaths wound of Caesar: Yet after that he tooke Caesars [...]nd from him, and with the same kil'd Labianus a Ro­mane Tribune, and lastly, was she field and dyed. Caesar [...]the Castles of Douer, Canterbury, and the Tower [...] London.

Theomantius, 37.
THen Theomantius (of the royall blood)
The sole Sonne liuing of his Father Lud;
[...]ign'd three and twenty yeeres, a King in State,
[...]hose Picture stands on Luds vnlucky gate.

Yeeres before Christ.

Cimbilinus.
IN this Kings reigne, (the glorious King of Kings
In person came, and mans saluation brings)
When through the world all bloody wars did cease,
(For our soules peace) then came the Prince of peace.

Our Sauiour Iesus Christ was borne his reigne, in the 42. yeere of Augustus Caesar, then being Emperour of Rome: Cimbelinus was the Sonne of Theomantins.

Guiderius, anno Christi, 21.
THis King and Subiects, brauely, nobly ioyne,
To hold from Rome the tributary Coyne:
But Claudius Caesar with an Army came,
The Britaines bold rebellious hearts to tame;
One Hamen there (a Romane) did deuise,
Himselfe like to a Britaine to disguise,
Guiderin [...] brauely cha [...]de his foes amaine,
Was by disguised Hamon falsely slaine.

When Guiderius was King of Britaine, our R [...] ­mer suffered vnder Claudius Tiberius Caesar, being the Romane Emperour. Guiderius was a valiant Prince.

Aruiragus, 44
STout Aruiragus being in the fight,
The Kings death added fury to his might:
Perceiu'd the Britaine Host, almost dismaide,
In's brothers Armour hee himselfe atray'd,

[Page 278]Yeeres after Christ.

The Souldiers thought the King againe suruiu'd,
With courage new through euery veine deriu'd,
Braue Aruiragus, like a Tempest goes,
And pell mell topsieturuy throwes his foes.
Great Caesar with his Romane army fled,
The King tooke Hamon, and cut off his head,
And more, with sharp reuenge his wrath t'appease,
Hew'd him piece-meale, and cast him in the Seas,
The place long time, this name did then allow,
Of Hamons hau [...]n, or Southampton now.
The Emperour would quite the tribute free,
If Brittaines King his Sonne in law would be.
Then Aruarigue did faire Genisse marry,
And Claudius Caesar heere a while did tarry,
He builded Glost [...]r, whil'st he heere remain'd:
The King dyed hauing twenty eight yeeres reign'd.
Marius, 73.
IN this Kings reigne the lawlesse proling Pict,
(A Nation strange) did the North part afflict:
But Marius, in a battell slew their King,
And all their power did to subiection bring.
The Picts from Scythia, into Scotland came,
Rude, barbarous, ingratefull, hard to tame:
For by the Scotis [...] Kings fauour hauing got
Possession, they oft warr'd vpon the Scot.
And more and more that Kingdome they annoy'd,
Till Kennith Scotland [...] King them all destroy'd:
Yeeres fifty three reign'd Marius iust and wise,
Dyed: and at Carl [...] his Corps royall lies.

Much about this time, Ioseph of Arimathea, after he had buried Christ (being hated for it of the mis-beleeuing Iewes) came into this Land, and first planted Christia­nity heere, built a Chapell at Ghastenburgh: Some wri­ters say, that he repaired Chester, and was buried there.

Coylus, 124.
IN Rome, this King was fostred all his youth,
He lou'd Peace, Iustice, Fortiude and Truth:

Yeeres after Christ.

He builded Colchest [...]r, and did suruiue,
Till he had reign'd a Kings yeeres, fifty fiue.

Coylus was the Sonne of Marius, hee was buried [...] Yorke.

Lucius, 179.
THe first of Kings that was a Christian nam'd,
Was Lucius (with the spirit of God inflam'd)
The Bread of life he did receiue with ioy,
The Pagan Idols hee did all destro [...],
The Flamines and Arch [...]mines he downe cost,
And Bishops and Archbishops here he plac [...]d,
He lou'd and fear'd th' eternall Three in one,
And dyed when he had 12. yeeres kept the Throne

This was the first Christian King of Brittaine, [...]ee [...] [...]ed twentie eight Idolatrous Temples of thy Pagan god [...] he made Cathedrall Churches, for the seruice of the [...] God; Elutherius was then Bishop of Rome, King [...]uc [...] was buried at Glocester: hee dyed leauing no [...] [...] that this Land was in a hurly-burly 15.yeeres, t [...] want of a King.

Seuerus, 194.
THis was a Romane Emperour, and was slaine
At York the eighteenth yeere of his proud reigne
Hee was an Alien and a stranger heere,
And therefore bought his vsurpation deare.

Seuerus was 60. yeeres old when hee tooke the [...] and caused a wall of Turse to be made betwixt Eng­la [...] and Scotland to kepe this Land from the incursions of t [...] Scots and Picts: the wall reached from Tyme to [...] Scottish Seas, 112. miles.

[Page 279]Yeeres after Christ.

Bassianus, 212.
SE [...]rus here did wed a British Dame,
By whom this King (their Son) the Crowne did claime.
[...] after sixe yeeres time, he left this Land.
[...]ad had the Romane Empire at's command.

Bassianus was brought from Rome by his Father [...]rcus.

Carausius, 290.

Alectus, 291.

[...] Carausi [...] [...], Dio­ [...] was [...]

THis king (of meane birth) did the Crown attain
After seuen yeeres, was by Alectus slaine:
Three yeeres Alectus did in state recide.
[...]ur Protomartyr then Saint Alban dyde.

Dio [...]esian and Maximilian ruled the Romane Em­ [...] when saint Albane suffered; Alectus was sent from Rome against Carausius: this Alectus was a cruell [...] and was also slaine by Asclepiodatus.

Asclepiodatus, 299.
ASclepiodatus, (in a mortall Fight)
Sabdude the Romane Generall Gallus might;
Kil'd him, and cast him head-long in a Brooke,
Whence Gallus or Wallbrooke, for name it tooke,
And as Alectus did Carausius kill,
So did this King Alectus life bloud spill,
And a free two yeeres reigne in mortall strife,
Asclepiodatus slaine lost Crowne and life.

Glallus brooke or Wallbrooke tooke the name from Glallus [...] Rome to Captaine, slaine by Asclepiodatus, and throwne into that Brooke. Asclepiodatus was after slaine by Coil Duke of Colchester. Some write that Asclepiodatus reigned 30. yeeres.

Yeeres after Christ.

Coil raigned 14. yeeres. 301.
COlchesters Duke Coil in the Throne inuested,
Was by Constantius Caesar much molested:
Till Coil gaue's Daughter to him for his Bride,
And paid Romes tribute, that was long denide.
The Lady was of beauty most diuine,
Faire Hellen, Mother to great Constantine.
The King at Colchester, dead, laide in's Tombe,
His Sonne Constantius did supply his roome.

This Hellen r [...]defied Ierusalem, and adorned it with goodly Churches. She also wa [...]e [...] Ladon and Colchester.

Constantius, 305.
SPaine, Italy, France, Britaines Emperor,
Foure yeeres he raign'd heere, with Maiesticke power.
True Honour was the ayme at which he sho [...],
Iust, Valiant, these reports his Actions got.

This Constantius was Grandfather to Constantine the Great: he came from Rome to this Ile and was bu­ried at Yorke.

Constantine, 306.
GReat Emp'ror Constantine, surnam'd the Great:
In all respects a worthy Prince compleate,

[Page 280]Yeeres after Christ.

The glorious Gospell, he ador'd, and fear'd,
Constantinople famously he rear'd,
Maxentius, Romes great Tyrant, (most abhor'd)
He made him flie from his Imperiall sword.
Belou'd, bewail'd, high honor'd and admir'd,
In grace with God and men, his dayes expir'd.

This worthy Prince Constantine was borne in this Land, the Sonne of Constantius and Hellen. After Constantius decease, our Land was molested by Octaui­us Maximus and others for many yeers. These times are so diuersly written of in Histories, that a man knowes not which to beleeue most.

84. Constantinus, 337.

85. Constans, 340.
THese two were Brothers of the Royall line,
And Sonnes vnto the Emperour Constantine:
Ambition and debate for Kingly Raigne,
Was the vnnaturall cause they both were slaine.

Kings and Louers can brook no partners: for these two brothers were each others destruction.

86. Octauius, 345.

87. Traherus, 349.
OCtauius Duke of Windsore tooke the Crowne,
Traherus came from Rome and put him downe:
The Land was full with hurly-burlies fild,
Traherus by Octtauius last was kild.

Theodosius was Emperour of the East, and Macrinus of the West: Some write that Octauius reigned 54. yeeres. Non credo.

Yeeres after Christ.

88. Constantius the third. 353.
The Romane Empire he did closely sway,
And as a King this Land did him obay:
Th'Apostate Iulian was the Emp'rour next,
By whom the Christians all were slaine, or vext.

Constantius was a victorious Prince, and triumphed in Rome: yet [...]uell oppressor, and an Arian hereticke.

89 Maximinianus. 375.
NExt Iulian, raigned Valenti [...]ia [...],
And after him, succeeded Grasi [...];
Maximianus was of life depriu'd,
'Cause he with Gratian for the Empire striu'd.

How like Bauius these tyrants consumed on [...] another these were all Emperours of Rome, & Kings of Brittaine.

90. Gratian. 376.
THen Gratian claim'd this Kingdome as his right:
But hauing gain'd it, he was slaine in fight:
Fierce warres the Romane Empire did deuide,
And Caesars and their Viceroyes fought and dyde.
Honorius Romes Tribunall did obtaine,
Next after him did Theodosius raigne,
Then did the Scot ioyne with the barbarous pict
This headlesse, Kinglesse Kingdome to afflict.
The Romane Scepter we had long obayd,
Foure hundred eightythree yeeres Tribute payd;
And now this land shook off their wrongd comand
When Ciuill discord had neer spoyl'd this Land.

In one [...] the whole nation of the Picts were [...]

[Page 281]Yeeres after Christ.

[...] [...]shed: about this time the Romanes gouernment [...]here. Gratian was a Brittaine Emperour but some [...]

91 Vortiger. 447.
THis King through murder did the Throne ascend,
And had a troublous Raigne, and murdrous end:
[...] ( Constantines) lawfull Heyre and Sonne,
By vortigers false meanes to death was done.
For which (to keepe the Crowne vniustly gain'd)
The Saxons for his ayde he entertain'd.
Then Heng [...]st, with his Brother Horlus crue,
[...] Britaines best bloud did their blades embrew.
King Vortiger with doting loue inthral'd,
[...]atch't Hengists daughter, beauteous Rowan cal'd:
[...] Saxons troopes, on troopes came in so fast,
That Britaines did depriue the King at last.

Hee murdered his lawfull Prince, and vsurping the Throne was enforced to haue ayd of the Saxons, who at the [...] almost ouer-ran this Kingdome, but the Brittaines [...]ed, Vortiger, and crowned his Sonne Vortimer.

92. Vortimer. 454.
THen * Vortimer, the Sonne of Vortiger,
Vpon the Saxons made successfull warre:
Till he by Rowan was by craft o'r-tane,
From whose false hands, he dy'd by poys'nous bane.
Deposed Vortiger (his Sonne once slaine)
His ill gain'd ill kept Crowne he gain'd againe:
Hengistus with his Saxon fresh supplies,
The Plaines of Salisbury did all surprize.
The King tooke counsell of his Brittaine Lords,
And all in generall to a Peace accords.
The Saxons and the Brittaines did agree,
That at this meeting all vnarm'd should be:
[...]xt traitrous Hengist did a watch-word speake,
Which did the Law of Armes, and Honour breake,

Yeeres after Christ.

The Saxons vnsuspected drew forth Kniues,
Foure hundred, threescore Lords, all lost their liues,
All Brittaine Nobles, then the Saxons there,
Surpris'd the King, constraining him through feare
To giue Kent, Sussex, Suffolke, Norfolke, and
That Hengist, King should in those Lands command,
But after nineteene yeeres were quite expir'd,
*Reuenging Fire, the King in's Castle fir'd.
And thus the Saxons, and Great Hengists Heyres,
Won Shire to Shire, till Brittaine all was theirs.

Vortiger married his owne daughter to his third wife.

93. Aurelius Ambrose. 466.
IN honour of the Nobles basely slaine,
This King set vp the Stones on Sarum plain [...]:
The Gospell with great zeale he dignifi'd,
Raign'd thirty two yeeres, and by poyson dy'd.

This King was a Romane, and brother to Vter Pendra­gon that succeeded him.

94. Vter Pendragon raigned 18 yeeres. 498.
THis King (by Merlins meanes, a skilfull man)
Igrene, the Duke of Cornewals Dutchesse wan:
On her he got, (though illegittimate)
The Christian Worthy, Arthur, stilde the Great.

Vter Pendragon poysoned by the Saxons, after he had reigned 18.yeeres.

[Page 282]Yeeres after Christ.

95. Arthur. 516.
OF the nine Worthies was this Worthy one,
Denmarke, and Norway, did obey his Throne:
In twelue set Battels he the Saxons beat,
Great, and to make his Victories more great,
The Faithlesse Sarazens he ouercame,
And made them honour high Ichonah's Name,
The Noble order of the Table round,
At Winchester, his first inuention found.
Whilst he beyond Sea fought to win Renowne,
His Nephew Mordred did vsurpe his Crowne,
But he return'd, and Mordred did confound,
And in the fight great Arthur got a wound,
That prou'd so mortall, that immortally
It made him liue, although it made him dye.
Full sixteene yeeres the Diadem he wore,
And euery day gaind Honour more and more.
Arthur the great was buried at Glastenbury.
96 Constantine, the fourth. 542.

97 Aurelius Conanus. 545.
COnstantine was by King Aurelius kil'd:
Aurelius ('Brittaine) thirty three yeeres held,
Seuen Kingdomes heere at once the Saxons held,
And slaughter launc'd, when proud ambition sweld.

This Constantine was kinsman to King Arthur, and was slaine by Conanus. Constantine was a wicked Prince, and slaine in battell by his kinsman Conanus, when he had reigned neere 3. yeeres. Of the tyme of this Aurelius Conanus his reigne, there is much variation in Histories.

Yeeres after Christ.

Heere beganne the Heptarchy, or 7 Kingdomes i [...] this Land, namely, Kent, South-Saxons, West-Saxons, East-Saxons, Northum­berland, Mercia, and East-Angles: which diuision continued more then 600. yeeres, be fore it was all vnited into one Monarchy [...]e names of the Kings, & times of their reignes, and limits of their Kingdomes, are hereunder expressed.

1 KEnt was only a kingdome which had 17 Kings, namely, 1 Hengist, 2 E [...]s [...] 3 Octa, 4 Ymerick, 5 Ethelbert, who was the first Christian King of Kent, hee was an ayde [...] and helper of Sebert, King of the East-Saxons, in the famous and memorable buildings of S t Pauls Church in London, and Saint Peters at Westminster. 6 Eabald, 7 Ercombert, 8 Egl [...] 9 Lother, 10 Edrick, 11 Withred, 12 Eaber [...] 13 Edelbert, 14 Alick, 15 Ethilbert, 16 Cuthred 17 Baldred. These Kings reigned in Kent 372 yeeres, from the yeere of Grace 455. till the yeere 827.

2 The kingdome of the South-Saxons con­tained the Counties of Suffex and Surrit, [...] continued from the yeere 488. vntill the yeere 601. being 113 yeeres: they had three Kings [...] namely, 1 Ella, 2 Cissa, 3 Ethelwolse a Christi­an King, 4 Berthrum, 5 Authum.

3 The West-Saxons kingdome, whose be­ginning was in the yeer 519. and ended, Anno [...] 166. lasted 561 yeeres, hauing 17 Kings namely, 1 Cherdick, 2 Kenrick, 3 Chequilen, 4 Cealick, 5 Chelwold, 6 Kingils, a Christian, 7 Kenwald, 8 Eskwin, 9 Kentwin, 10 Ceadwald 11 Inas, 12 Ethelarc, 13 Cuthred, 14 Sigebat 15 Kenwolse, 16 Brightrik, 17 Egbert,: These Kings had vnder their gouernments, the Counties of Cornewall, Deuonshire, So­mersetshire, Wiltshire, Hampshire and Bark­shire.

4 The East-Saxons reigned 281 yeeres, beginning Anno. 527. and ending in the yeere 827. Their bounds were Essex and Middle-Sex, and their Kings were in number [...] 14, namely, 1 Erchenwin, 2 Sledda, 3 S [...] a Christian King, that assisted Ethelbert

[Page 283]Yeeres after Christ.

King of Kent it, in the building of the [...]hurches of saint Paul and Saint Peter afore­ [...] 4 Seward, 5 Sigebert, 6 Sigibert, 7 Swithe­ [...] 8 Sighere, 9 S [...]bba, 10 Sigherd, 11 Seo­ [...]l 12 Offa, 13 S [...]lred, 14 Suthred.

5 Northumberland was sometimes diui­ded into two kingdomes. It contained the [...]ies of Yorkshire, Durham, Lancashire, West­ [...]land, Cumberland and Northumberland: this Kingdome beganne in the yeere of our Lord, [...]7. and expired in 926. continuing 379. [...]eeres vnder 23 Kings, whose names were, 1 [...], 2 Ad [...]a, 3 Theodwald, 4 Frethulfe, 5 The­ [...] [...]ick, 6 Ethelrick, 7 Ethel [...]rid, 8 Edwin, 9 Os­ [...], 10 Oswy 11 Egfrid, 12 Alkfrid, 13 Ofred, 14 [...]red, 15 Oswolfe, 16 Ceolnuph, 17 Egbert, 18 Oswicke, 19 Edilwald, 20 Alured, 21 Ethel­ [...] 22, Alswald, 23 Osred. Amongst these, [...]dwin was their first Christian King.

6 The East Angles vnder 15 seuerall Kings, continued 353 yeeres, beginning in Anno, 575. [...]d ended in 914. their Territories were [...]lolke, Norfolk, Cambridgeshire and the [...] of Ely, their Kings names were, 1 Vffa, 2 [...]lus 3 Redwald their first Christian King, [...]wold, 5 Sigebert, 6 Egrik, 7 Anna, 8 [...]bert, 9 Ethwald, 10 Aldwol [...]e, 11 Aswald, 12 Beorn, 13 Ethelred, 14 Ethelbert, 15 Edmund. [...] The seuenth Kingdome were the Mer­ [...] [...], who had 20 Kings and 17 shires [...]nder their command: their Kings were [...] [...] Creda, 2 Wibba, 3 Cheorle, 4 Penda, 5 Peada [...]heir first Christian King, 6 Wolfere, 7 [...]helred, 8 Kenred, 9 Chelred, 10 Ethebald, 11 Offa, 12 Egfrid, 13 Kenwolfe, 14 Kenelme, 15 Chelwolfe 16 Bernulfe, 17 Ludecan, 18 [...]itlafe, 19 Bertwolfe, 20 Burdred. Their [...]ounds and dominions were 17 Counties, as of Northampton Leister, Darby, Lincolne, Huntington, Rutland, Notingham, Ches­hire, Oxfordshire, Staffordshire, Worcester­shire, Glostershire, Shropshire, Warwicke­shire, Bedfordshire, Buckinghamshire, and [...]artfordshire.

Yeeres after Christ.

98 Vortiporus. 578.

99 Malgo 581.
THis Vortipore from good Kings did decline,
Kept his wiues Daughter as his Concubine:
And Malgo p [...]t his Wi [...]e to broady slaughter,
To liue in [...]ncest with his brothers Daughter.

About this time Augustine the Monke, Mellitus, Iustus and Iohn all [...] men came from Rome, and preach­ed the Gospell to the English m [...]n. Vortipore reigned 4. yeeres. Malgo, his raign [...] was short and wicked.

100. Careticus. 586.
GVrmundus hither out of Ireland came,
And with the Saxons ioyn'd with sword and flame:
The King to Wales did flye. his ife [...]t [...] saue.
Whereas he chang'd his Kingdome for a Graue.

He reigned 3. yeeres: and now the Saxons had all Eng­land, the Brittaines and their Kings being expulsed and chased to the West sides of the Riuers Seauerne, and D [...].

Cadwane. 613.
THis Cadwane did the Saxon [...]orce withstand,
Of Ethelfridus of Northumberland:
And made him to entreate and sue for peace:
Raign'd two and twenty yeeres, then did decease.

[Page 284]Yeeres before Christ.

102. Cadwallin. 635.
CAdwallin slew King Edwin, Egfrids Sonne,
He Penda Merciaes King did ouer-runne:
He neuer fought but Conquest home did bring,
And eight and forty yeeres did raigne a King.

Cadwallin was buried at London in Saint Martins Church neere Ludgate.

103. Cadwallader. 685.
THis King renowned was both neere and farre,
The last of Brittaines Kings, Cadwallader,
The name of Brittaine was quite alterd then,
The Kings of England, subiects, Englishmen.
Then in this Land, of Kings there raign'd so many,
That Subiects knew not to obey all, or any:
Their names and times of raigne I meane to tell,
Should I write more, my Book too big would swell.

Here the inhabitants lost the name of Brittaines, the land being called Anglia, or England, and the people Eng­lishmen.

687. Cadwallader left his Crowne, went to Rome, and dyed there.

These Kings following were of the West Saxons.

726 Ethelard was King of the West Saxons.

Yeeres before Christ.

740. Cuthred succeeded him.
757. Sigebert next him, was slain [...] by a Swineheard.
758. Kenulphus was slaine by Kinsman of Sigebert.
786. Brithricus. In his time i [...] rained blood.

IN the 800. yeere of Christ, the Danes landed at Po [...] ­land, but Brithricus beat them backe, and after [...] was poysoned by his wife Ethelburga.

Egbri [...]us, King of West-Saxons. 839. [...]
839. Adelnulphus ouercame [...] Danes, that came to inua [...]e the King­dome with 350. ships.
857. Athelbald.

[Page 285]Yeeres after Christ.

860. Athelbrict.
866. Etheldrid.
872. AElfred.
900. Edward surnamed Se [...]ior.

Heere end the Kings of the West-Saxons: now fol­low the Kings of Britaine.

104. Athelstane reigned 15. yeeres. 905.
THis King did tame the Welsh, the Danes subdu'd,
He conquered Scotland and the Marches rude:
The Danish Gyant Colebrand in Hyde-meads
[...]y G [...]y the Earle of Warwick was struck dead.

King Athelstane was crowned at Kingstone, hee fought this Land againe to one sole Monarchy, hee was buried at M [...]l [...]bury

Yeeres after Christ.

105. Edmund. 940.

106. Eldred. 640.
EDmund, reign'd next his brother Athelstane,
And after fiue yeeres was vntimely slaine:
Nine yeeres was Eldrid Englands King instil'd,
Th' insulting Danes, he from this Realme exilde.

Edmund was buried at Glastenbury. Eldred was brother to Edmund, hee was crowned as Kingstone, hee expelled the Danes, and was buried at Winchester.

107. Edwin. 955.

108 Edgar. 959.
THen Edwin (as his right) obtain'd the Crowne,
For Rape, and brutish Lust he was put downe.
His brother Edger a man iust and wi [...]e,
By Edwins fall, vnto the Throne did rise.
The Church and Commonwe [...]le (long time deform'd)
He by his Iustice and good Lawes reform'd.
Raign'd sixteen yeeres, and then by death assail'd,
As he had liu'd belou'd, he dy'd bewail'd.

Edwin was Eldreds kinsman crowned a Kingstone: he deftowred his owne kinswoman, and slew her husband, for which [...] acts hee was deposed of all Kingly dignity, and his brother Edgar was in his stead crowned at Bath [...]. Edgar had 3600 skips to withstand the inuasion of his enemies: hee founded and repaired 47. religious houses, hee was buried at Glastenbury.

109 Edward. 975.

110 Etheldred. 978.
EDward was slain by his accurst Stepmother,
Ayded by Etheldred his cruell brother.
[Page 286]This Etheldred caus'd all the Danes be slaine:
And dyed the thirty eightth yeere of his raigne.

He was crowned at Kingstone: be reigned 3. yeeres, and was buried at Shaftsbury.

Etheldred was buried in St. Pauls Church in Lon­don.

111 Edmond Irònside. 1016.
THe Danes came to reuenge with sword and fire,
Both Kings to Combat single did desire:
On equall tormes, their valours both were tride,
In loue the Realme betwixt them they deuide.

Edricus a traitor murdered King Edmond Ironside, for the which Canutus the Dane caused him to bee tor­mented to death gri [...]uously as he deserued.

112 Canutus 1018.
THis mighty Danish King foure Kingdomes held,
Danes, Norway, England, Scotland he compeld,
Taxes and toles he rais'd in England here,
And dyed when he had gouern'd twenty yeere.

In Canutus his raigne the Danes possessed all Eng­land: he [...] buried at Winchester.

113 Harold. 1038.

114 Hardianutus. 1041.
HArold from England did exile his Mother,
And kild Allured his King and his Brother:
Hardianutus then the Crowne obtain'd,
Who qua [...]ing died, when he 3. yeeres had raign'd.

Harold was a Tyrant: hee was called Hartfoott. [...] h [...] [...] running: be murdered Prince Allured hee raign­ed three yeeres, and was buried at Westminster.

Hee caused the body of Harold to be digged out of the graue, and cast into the Thames, in reuenge of his brother Allureds death: he was buried at Winchester.

115. Saint Edward, 1043.

116. Harold the second. 1066.
SAint Edward from the Danes this Kingdom freed [...]
And for he had no Heyre, he heere decreed,
That William Duke of Normandy should be
Next King, but Harold seem [...] to agree,
As soone as Edward was laid in his Toombe,
This hasty Harold mounted in his roome,
But William came from Normanay amaine,
By whom King Harold was vnking'd and slaine.
The end of the first part.

The second part.

William Conquerour. An. Dom. 1066.
VVHen Britains, Romanes, Saxons, Danes had done,
The Normans (fiftly) England [...] glory won [...]
New Lords brought in new Lawes incontinent,
And all were Conquer'd but the County Kent.
King William (after he had all surpriz'd)
Insulted, domineer'd, and tyranniz'd,
All Englishmen (like slaues) their doores must lock,
On paine of death, each night at eight of clocke.
The English from all Offic [...] were disgrac'd,
And in their places the proud French were plac'd.
[Page 287] [...]ill beating down the right, with wrong on wrong,
Disdaining men should speake the English tongue.
And so to bring our memory to naught,
The Grammar and the Lawes in French were taught.
King Swanus Sonnes, with Danes a mighty band,
Arriu'd in Humber to inuade the Land,
Then Yorke was burnt, the wealth away was borne,
And Danes on Composition home did turne.
A dearth in England was so great, that heere
Cats, Dogs, and mans flesh, was our wofull cheere.
The Mercians and Northumbers they rebel'd,
Strong warres the Scott within our Country held:
The Ile of Ely did the King surprize,
He caus'd the Rebels lose hands, feet, and eyes.
The Normans did rebell and were subdu'd,
Danes came and fled, with all their multitude.
The Kings sonne ( Robert) by the French Kings ayd,
Did diuers parts of Normandy inuade.
The Scots spoild England, with all might and maine,
And Durbans Bishop in a broyle was slaine,
Heere euery Acre of mens Lands were measur'd.
And by a heauy taxe the King was treasur'd:
Slaine by a Deere the Kings sonne lost his life,
And Glassenbury Monkes were kill'd in strife.
The English Nobles almost were decay'd,
And euery place of rule the Normans swai'd.
And all mens goods and lands, and coyn were rated
Through England, and vnto the King related.
The French mens pride did England ouerwhelme,
And grieuous tributes did oppresse the Realme.
Churches and Chappels were throwne down with speed,
[...]o make New Forrest as the King decreed:
Who hauing rul'd in trouble, toyle and care,
And tryannously pol'd this Kingdome bare,
Neere twenty one yeeres, death was then his bane:
He lyes in Normandy, enterr'd at Cane.

William Conquerour was crowned on Christmas­day 1067, the yeere then beginning on that day. In the [...] Forrest in Hampshire called New Forrest, [...]ere this King had defaced many Churches (wherein the [...] of God was called vpon) and placed wild Beasts for His disportun the same Forrest two of his owne sonnes were [...], Prince Robert killed by a Deere, and William Rufus by a Knight shooting at a Deere.

William Rufus, An. Dom. 1087.
WIlliam the cruell Conquerours second Sonne,
With ease, got what his Fathers paines had won,
Oppressed England he opprest and prest,
And great Exactions wrongfully did wrest.
For Symony, and base corrupting gold,
The King most Churches and Church-liuings sold,
And more, (his Subiects vilely to abuse)
Against them he in armes did arme the Iewes,
And swore if they the victory did gaine.
That he their faithlesse faith would entertaine.
Vpon his eldest brother hee raysd warres,
His youngest brother troubled him with iarres.
At London, such a furious winde did blow,
Which did sixe hundred houses ouerthrow.
The City Gloster was by Welshmen sack'd.
Northumberland was by King William wrack'd.
William de Oue, and William de Aluery.
In cruell torments dyed at Salisbury.
Duke Robert laid all Normandy to gage
Vnto the King, warres with the Turkes to wage.
Westminster Hall was built, the Danes came in,
And th' Orchades, and the Ile of Man did win.
But as the King was hunting in Hampshire,
Sir Walter T [...]rr [...]ll shooting at a Deere,
The Arrow glauncing'gainst a Tree by chance,
Th'vnhappy King kild, by the ha [...]lesse Glaunce.
A Comers Cart to Winchester did bring
The Corps, where vnbemoand they laid the King.

Rufus. In the 8. yeere of his reigne, the Christian Ar­my went to Ierusalem, vnder the conduct of Godfry Duke of Bulleine, in which warres serued Robert Duke of Normandy the Kings eldest brother, who pawned his Dukedome for 16666. pounds weight of siluer. In the 11. yeere the Lands of the late Earle Godwine sunk in the sea, and are to this day called Godwine [...]ands. This King died the 2. of August 1100. He reigned 12. yeeres, 11. Moneths, and was buried at Winchester.

Henry the first. An. Dom. 1100.
THis Henry (for his wisedome Beuclarke nam'd)
Th'vnlawfull Lawes and measures he reclaim'd.
The Norman Duke, eld'st Brother to the King.
To claime the Crowne a mighty Hoast did bring.
Saint Barthol [...]mewes was founded and Saint Gyles,
And Henry stop'd Duke Roberts mouth with wiles.
Then peace was made; but after, warres did rise,
[Page 288]The King tooke's brother, and put out his eyes.
Here Windsor Church and Castle were erected,
And Wales (rebeld) most sharpely was corrected.
All the King's Sonnes and eight score persons more,
Were drown'd by tempest neere the Norman shore.
Thus all his Ioy in Childrens losse bereft,
Saue onely Maud, the Widdow Empresse left,
Whom Geffrey Anioy's Earle to wife did get,
From whom did spring the name Plantagenet.
The King proclaim'd his Daughter, or her seede,
After his death should in the Realme succeede,
And after thirty fiue yeeres time was past,
King Henry by a surfet breath'd his last.
Much trouble in his dayes this Kingdome wearied,
He dyed, and dead, at Redding he lies buried.
Thus God that lifts the low, casts downe the high,
Caus'd all the Conquerors sonnes vntimely dye.

Henry the [...]. He held the Crowne wrongfully from his elder brother Robert Duke of Normandy, and ouercom­ming him in battell, most vnnaturally put out his e [...]es: he reigned 35. yeeres, his braines, eyes and bowels were buried at Roane in France, and the rest of his body at Redding: his Phisicion that opened his head, was killed suddainely with the stench of his brai [...]er.

King Stephen. An. Dom. 1135.
STephen Earle of B [...]loig [...], (th' Earle of Bloy [...] his son)
From th' Empresse M [...]nd this famous Kingdome won.
Domestike, forraigne, dangerous discords,
'Twixt factions factions, of the King and's Lords,
Wars 'twixt the King and th' Empresse for the crown,
Both tasted Fortunes fauours, and her frowne,
Now vp, now downe, like balles at Tennis tost,
Till Stephen gain'd the goale, and th 'Empresse lost.
And after eighteene yeeres were come and gone,
The King not hauing any lawfull Sonne,
He dyed, and chang'd his Kingdome & his strength,
For a small Sepulcher of sixe foote length.

King Stephen. He was noble, valiant, liberall, and poli­tique, and almost in continuall trouble. In the 1. yeere of his reigne a fire burnt all the streete, from London-stone East, to Pauls, and West, to Algate, and within 2. yeeres after, the cities of York, Rochester, and Bathe, were burnt, Hee reigned 18. yeeres, 10 moneths and was buri­ed at Feuersham.

Henry the second. An Dom. 1154.
THis King vnto the Empresse Maud was Heyre,
And lawfully obtain'd the Regall Chayre,
He was couragious, and yet most vnchaste,
Which Vice, his other Vertues all defac'd.
He lou'd faire Rosamond, the worlds faire Ros [...],
For which his wife and children turn'd his foes.
He made his sonne Copartner in his Crowne,
Who rais'd strong warres to put his Father downe
Faire Rosamond at Woodstock by the Queene
Was poyson'd, in reuengefull iealous spleene
In toyle, and trouble, with his Sonnes and Peere [...],
The King raign'd almost fiue and thirty yeeres
Hee neere his death did curse his day of birth,
Hee curst his Sonnes, and sadly le [...]t the earth,
Hee at Founteuerard in his Tombe was laid.
And his Son Richard next the Scepter swa [...]d.

Henry the 2. In the 12. yeer of this King an earthqu [...] in Norfolk, Suffolk, and Eiye, that made [...] [...] shaking the sleeples, and ouerthrew men that stood on this feete. Nicholas Breakespeare, an English man was [...]ope of Rome, and was named Adrian the fourth, hee gaue [...] Lord-shippe of Ireland to King Henry.

Richard Cordelion. An. Dom. 1189.
THis braue victorious Lyon-hearted Prince,
The foes of Christ, in [...]y did conuince:
Whilst at Ierusalem he wan Renowne,
His Brother Iohn at home vsurp'd his Crowne.
And as he home return'd, (his owne to gaine)
By Austria's Duke, the King was Prisoner [...]ane.
His ransome was an hundred thousand pound,
Which paid, in England he againe was crown'd.
Yet after nine full yeeres, and 9. months raigne,
Hee with a Shot was kild in Aquit [...]ne,
[Page 298]His buriall at Founteuerard was thought meet,
At his dead Fathers, second Henries feet.

Richard the 1. he conquered the kingdome of Cypresse, and he tooke from the Infidels the Cities of Acon, & Iop­pa, and deliuered them to Christians. In his 2. yeere, the [...]s of the renowned King Arthur were found at Gla­stenbury. King Richards bowels were buried at Chalne Castle in Aquitane, his heart at Roane, and his body at Founteuerard.

King Iohn. An. Dom. 1199.
IOhn Earle of Morton tooke the regall Seate,
His state, his toyle, his pompe, his cares, all great:
The French, the Welsh, the Scotsh, all prou'd his foes,
The Pope King Iohn did from his Crowne depose.
His Lords rebel'd, from France the Dolphin came,
And Wasted England much with sword and flame.
And after seuenteene yeeres were full expir'd,
King Iohn being poysoned, to his graue retir'd.

King Iohn. In the 8. yeere many men, Women, and cattell [...] slain [...] with thunder, and many houses burnt, and the [...] was beaten downe with haile as bigge as goose egges.

Some say, the King was poyson'd by a monke, and others [...]rite that he died of a surfeit at Newark, but his life was full of troubles, and after his death he was by base villaines [...]d and l [...]t naked without any thing to couer the corpes, hee was buried at Worcester.

Henry the third. An. Dom. 1216.
Wars, bloody wars, the French in England made,
Strong holds, Towns, Towres & Castles they inuade.
[...]t afterwards it was K. Henries chance,
By force perforce to force them backe to France.
Great discord 'twixt the King and Barons were,
[...]nd factions did the Realme in pieces teare,
A world of mischiefes did this Land abide,
And fifty sixe yeeres raign'd the King and dy'd.

Henry the 3. This King was born at Winchester, crow­ned at Glocester, & buried at Westminster. In the 17. of his reigne on the 8. of Aprill, 1233. there were 5 Sonnes in the firmament, and the naturall Sun was as red as blood.

Edward Long- [...]hanks. An. Dom. 1271.
THis was a hardy, wise, Victorious King,
The Welshmen he did to subiection bring:
He Scotland wan and brought from thence (by fate)
Their Crowne, their Scepter, Chaire, and Cloth of state,
That Kingdome with oppression sore he brusde,
Much tyranny and bloodshed there he vsde.
When thirty fiue yeeres he the Crowne had kept,
At Westminster, he with his Father slept.

Edward the 1. In the 13. yeere his sonne Edward was borne at Carnaruan, who was the first sonne of any King of England that was Prince of Wales.

An. 17. Wheat at 3. pence the Bushell.

Edward of Carnaruan. An. Dom. 1307.
THe hard mis-haps that did this King attend,
The wretched life, and lamentable end,
Which he endur'd the like hath ne'r bin seene,
Depos'd, and poyson'd by his cruell Queene.
Which when the poyson had no force to kill,
Another way she wrought her wicked will.
Into his Fundament a red hot Spit
Was thrust, which made his Royall heart to split.

In his 8. yeere such a death; that dogges and horses were good food, many ate their owne children, and old prisoners tore such as were newly committed in pie­ces, and deuoured them halfe liuing. The King reig­ned 19. yeeres 6. moneths.

[Page 290]

Edward the third, An. Dom. 1326.
IN Peace, and warre, this King was right, & good,
He did reuenge his murdred Fathers blood:
Hee, and the blacke Prince, his most valiant Sonne,
The Field at Cressle, and at Poytiers wonne,
At first and last in his victorious raigne,
Of French and Scots, were six score thousand slaine.
And more, (his glory further to aduance)
He tooke the Kings of Scotland and of France.
The noble order of the Garter, he
At Windsor, instituted caus'd to be.
When fifty yeeres this Land had him obaid,
At Westminster he in his tombe was laid.

In his 12. yeere he quartered the Armes of England and France, as they are at this day. Henry Pichard Vintuer, in his Moral [...]y, feasted at once. Edward King of Eng­land, Dauid King of Scotland, Iohn King of France, the King of Cypres, the Prince of Wales, the Dolphin of France, with many other great Personages of Honour and Worship.

Richard the second. An. Dom. 1377.
YOng King, rash co [...]sell, lawes & right neglected,
The good put downe, the bad in State erected:
The Court with knaues & flat'rers here did swarm,
The Kingdome, (like a Farme) was let to Farme.
The Commons tost in Armies, Routes and throngs,
And by soule treason, would redresse soule wrongs.
In this Kings raigne, began the Ciuill warre,
(Vnnaturally) 'twixt Yorke and Lancaster.
Oppression on oppression, breedes Confusion,
Bad Prologue, bad Proceeding, bad Conclusion:
King Richard, twenty two yeeres raign'd, misse-led,
Deposed and at Po [...]r [...]s knock'd ith'head.

This King was Grandchild to Edward the 3. and sonne to the black Prince, he was borne at Burdeux in France, and was but 11. yeeres old when he was crowned, so that all his miserable Calamity may be imputed to him not ha­uing or not regarding good counsell.

Henry the fourth. An. Dom. 1399.
THe Crown wrong got frō the wrong'doing king,
More griefe then ioy did to King Henry bring:
France, England, Scotland, Wales, arose in Armes,
And menac'd Henry, with most fierce Alarmes:
Hot Percy, Dowglas, Mortimer, Glendowre,
At Shrewsbury, the King orethrew their power,
He fourteene yeeres did raigne, and then did dye,
At Canterbury buried, he doth lye.

Henry the 4. Hee began his reigne the 29. of Septem­ber, 1399. and the 14. of February following, king Richard the 2. being in prison at Po [...]fret-Castle, [...] murdered. The raigne of King Henry was acc [...] warre and trouble.

Henry the fift. An. Dom. 1412.
THis was a King Renowned neere and farre,
A Mars of men, a Thunderbolt of warre:
At Agencourt the French were ouerthrowne,
And Henry heyre proclaim'd vnto that Crowne.
In nine yeeres raigne this valiant Prince wan more,
Then all the Kings did after or before.
Intomb'd at Westminster his Carkas lyes,
His soule did (like his Acts) ascend the skies.

Henry the 5. In his 3. yeere hee past the sea with 1000. saile of Ships and Ve [...]els into France. His tombe or [...] was couered with siluer, but this yr [...]n age [...]th [...]

[Page 291]

Henry the sixt. An. Dom. 1422.
THis Infant Prince scarce being nine moneths old,
The Realmes of France and England he did hold:
But he vncapable through want of yeeres,
Was ouer-gouern'd by mis-gouern'd Peeres.
Now Yorke and Lancaster, with bloudy wars,
Both wound this kingdome, with deep deadly scars.
Whilst this good King by Yorks oppos'd, depos'd,
Expos'd to dangers, is captiu'd, inclos'd,
His Queene exilde, his sonne and many friends,
Fled, murdred, slaughtred; lastly, Fate contends
To crowne him once againe, who then at last
Was murdred, thirty nine yeeres being past.

King Edward the sixt, being 10. yeers old, was crow­ned King of France in Paris, but with the strife betwixt the Nobility, and the Commons in England, the most part of France was lost againe, which was neuer recouered [...]

Edward the fourth. An. Dom. 1460.
EDward, the 4. the house of Yorks great heire,
By bloudy wars attain'd the Regall Chaire,
The poore King Henry into Scotland fled,
And foure yeeres there was royally cloath'd and fed,
Still good successe with him was in the wane,
[...]e by King Edward [...] power at last was tane.
Yet yet before the tenth yeere of his reigne,
Hence Edward fled, and Henry crown'd againe.
By Warwicks meanes sixe moneths he held the same:
Till Ed [...]ward backe in armes to England came,
And fighting stoutly, made this kingdome yeeld,
And slew great Warwicks Earle at Barnot field.
Thus Ciuill wars on wars, and broyles on broyles,
And England against England spils and spoyles,
Now Yorke, then Lancaster, then Yorke againe,
[...]uels Lancaster; thus ioy, griefe, pleasure, paine,
[...]oth like inconstant waters [...]bbe and flow:
Ones rising is the others ouerthrow.
King Edward, twenty two yeeres rul'd this Land,
And lies at Windsor where his Tombe doth stand.

Edward the 4. In the first yeere on Palme-sunday. 1460. there was a battell fought betwixt King Edward and King Henry, neere Todcaster, wherein were s [...]aine of English-men on both sides 53000, 700, and 11. per­sons: The bloudy victory fell to King Edward. In the 10. yeere of his reigne, he was forced to forsake this Land, whereby King Henry was restored againe to the Crowne. But shortly after, Edward returned, and Henry was murthered.

Edward the fifth. An. Dom. 1483.
HIgh birth, blood, state, and innocent in yeeres,
Eclips'd, and murdred by insulting Peeres.
This King was neuer crown'd, short was his raigne:
For to be short, hee in short space was slaine.

Edward the 5. Within 3. moneths after the death of his father, hee and his brother Richard Duke of Yorke, were depriued both of their liues, and he of the Crowne, by their tyrannous Unkle Richard, Duke of Gloster.

Richard the third. An. Dom. 1483.
BY Treason, mischiefe, murder and debate.
Vsurping Richard wonne the royall state:
Vnnaturally the children of his brother
The King, and Duke of Yorke he caus'd to smother.
For Sir Iames Tirrell, Dighton and Blacke [...]ill,
Did in the Tower these harmlesse Princes kill,
Buckinghams Duke did raise King Richard high,
And for reward he lost his head thereby.
A fellow to this King I scarce can finde.
His shape deform'd, and crooked like his minde.
Most cruell, tyrannous, inconstant, stout,
Couragious, hardy, t'abide all dangers out,
Yet when his sinnes were mellow, ripe and full,
Th'Almighties iustice then his plumes did pull:
[Page 292]By bloudy meanes he did the kingdome gaine,
And lost it so, at Bosworth being slaine.

This Richard was neuer a good subiect: but when he had got the Crowne, be striued by all meanes to be a good King, for in his Short reigne of two yeeres, two moneths, he made very profitable Lawes. which are yet in force: by which it may be perceiued how willing he was to redeeme his mis-spent time.

Henry the seuenth. An. Dom. 1485.
VVHen Ciuill wars, full fourescore yeers & more,
Had made this kingdome welter in her Gore:
When eightie of the royall blood were kild,
That Yorke and Lancasters crosse faction held,
Then God in mercy, looking on this Land,
Brought in this Prince, with a triumphant band,
The onely Heire of the Lancastrian line,
Who graciously consented to combine,
To ease poore England of a world of mone,
And make the red Rose and the white but one,
By Marriage with Elizabeth the faire,
Fourth Edwards daughter, and Yorks onely heire.
But Margret Burgunds dutches storm'd & frown'd,
That th'heire of Lancaster in state was crown'd.
A counterfeit, one Lambert she suborn'd,
(Being with Princely ornaments adorn'd)
To claime the State in name of Clarence sonne,
Who in the Tower before to death was done.
Wars'gainst the French King Henry did maintaine,
And Edward braue Lord Wooduile there was slaine.
Northumberlands great Earle (for the Kings right)
Was slaine by Northerne rebels in sharpe fight.
The King besiedged Boloigne, but a Peace
The French king fought, and so the siedge did cease.
Still Burgunds Dutchesse, (with inueterate hate)
Did seeke to ruine Henries Royall state:
She caus'd one Perkin Warbacke, to put on
The name of, Richard, Edwards murdred sonne,
Which Richard, was the youngest of the twaine
Of Edwards sonnes that in the Tower was slaine.
The King at last these traitors did confound,
And Perkin for a counterfeit was found.
Sir William Stanley, (once the Kings best friend)
At Tower hill, on a Scaffold had his end.
On Blacke Heath Cornish rebels were o'rthrowne,
A Shoomaker did claime King Henries Crowne.
The Earle of Warwicke lost his haplesse head,
And Lady Katherine did Prince Arthur wed.
But ere sixe moneths were fully gone and past,
In Ludlow Castle, Arthur breath'd his last.
King Henry built his Chappell from the ground,
At Westminster, whose like can scarce be found.
Faire Margret eldest daughter to our King,
King Iames the fourth of Scotland home did bring,
Where those two Princes, with great pompe and cheare,
In State at Edenborough married were.
But as all Mortall things are transitory,
So to an end came Henries earthly glory.
Twenty three yeeres, and 8. months here he swaid
And then at Westminster, in's Tombe was laid.
He all his Life had variable share,
Of Peace, Warre, Ioy, Griefe, Royaltie and Care.

In his I. yeere in 7. weekes space, there dyed in Lon­don 2. Maiors, and 6. Aldermen, besides many hundred others of a strange sweating sicknesse, 1485.

Anno Reg. 12. at Saint Need [...] in Beafordshire, there fell hail-stones 18. inches about.

King Iames the 4. of Scotland, married Margret, eldest daughter to Henry the 7. from whom our graci [...] soueraigne is [...]ineally descended.

Henry the eight. An. Dom. 1509.
FRom both the Lines, and both the Ioynes did spring
Of York & Lancaster, this mighty King:
Katherine that was his brothers wife of late,
He tooke to wife, and crown'd her Queene in state,
Empson and Dudley lost their heads at Tower,
For racking the poore Commons by their power.
Warres, dreadfull wars, arose 'twixt vs and French,
Lord Edward Howard, drowned by mis-chance
At Brest, he was high Admirall in fight,
Cast ouerboord, dy'd like a valiant Knight.
In England Suffolks Duke did lose his head,
The King to Turwin did an army lead,
Turney he wonne with his victorious blade,
King Iames of Scotland, England did inuade:
But Surries Earle [...] the Scotsh King ouercame,
Who lost life there, but wonne immortall fame.
Now Cardinall Wolsey, in the Kings high Grace,
Was rais'd to honours, from great place to place,
Lordship on Lordship laid vpon his backe,
Vntill the burthen was the bearers wracke.
[Page 293]The Duke of Buckingham, his head did lose,
And La [...]ber stoutly did the Pope oppose,
[...]finde ignorance that long had look'd awry,
Began, to see Truth with a clearer eye,
And then the King (inspir'd with seruent Zeale)
Reformed both the Church and Common weale,
[...] with his power Omnipotent,
Did make this King his gracious Instrument,
[...]T'vnmaske his Truth from Antichristian fables,
And purge this wofull Land from Babels bables.
This king at Boloigne was victorious;
[...] peace and warre, Magnifique, Glorious;
[...] his rage bounty he did oft expresse,
His Liberality to bee excesse,
[...] Reuels, Iusts, and Turnies he spent more,
Then fiue of his Fore-fathers did before,
His Auarice was all for Noble fame,
Amongst the Worthies to inrole his Name,
A valiant Champion for the Faiths defence,
Was the great Title of this mightie Prince.
[...] wiues he had, 3 Kates, 2. Aunes, one Iane,
Two were diuorc'd, two at the blocke were slaine:
One sonne and two faire daughters he did leaue,
Who each from other did the Crowne receiue:
The first was Edward; Mary next, whose death
Left State, and Realme, to Queene Elizabeth.
He thirty eight yeeres kept this Royall Roome,
At windsor hee's enter'd without a Tombe.

L [...]th, Edenbourgh, and diuers other parts of Scot­land were spoyled by Sir Iohn Dudley, Lord Viscount [...]sle, Lord high Admirall of England, with a Na­vy of 200, tall Ships.

Anno 1544. King Henry went to Boloigne, hee [...] France the 13. of Iuly, and into Boloigne the 25. of September in which yeere were taken 300. French [...]hips for prices.

Edward the sixt. An. Dom. 1546.
HAd this Kings reigne bin long, as it was good,
Religion in a peaceable state had stood,
What might haue his age bin, when his blest youth,
[...]o valiantly aduanc'd Gods sacred truth?
At nine yeeres age, the Crowne on him hee tooke,
And ere sixteene, he Crowne and life for sooke.
Too good for earth, th'Almighty tooke his spirit,
And Westminster his Carkas doth inherit.

In his 5. yeere a strange Earth-quake did much harm [...] in diuers places of Surry, and a sweating sicknesse gene­rally ouer England, that dispatched those that were in good health, in 12. houres, or 24. at the most. In one weeke there dyed of it in London 806. the most of them being men of best strength.

Queene Mary. An. Dom. 1553.
AFter a while this Queene had worne the Crown,
Idolatry was rais'd, and Truth put downe,
The Masse, the Images, the Beades and Altars,
By tyrannie, by fire, and sword and Halters,
Th'vngodly bloudy Antichristian sway,
Men were force, perforce forced to obey.
Now burning Bonner, London, Bishop, he
Was from the Ma [...]s [...]al-sea againe [...] free:
Iohn Dudley, great Duke of Northumberland,
And Sir Iohn Gates dyed by the Headsmans hand.
With them Sir Thomas Palmer likewise dy'd,
Hoping for heau'n, through [...] Crucified.
In Latine Seruice must be sung and said,
Because men should not know for what they pra [...]'d.
The Emp'rors sonne, great Philip King of Spaine,
A marriage with Queene Mary did obtaine:
Against which match, Sir Thomas Wyat rose,
With powers of Kent the Spaniards to oppose.
But Wyat was or'throwne, his armie fled,
And on the Tower hill after lost his head.
Lord Gray the Duke of Suffolke also dy'd,
An Axe his Corps did from his head diuide.
A little after, the Lord Thomas Gray,
The Dukes owne brother went that headlesse way.
A Millers sonne assum'd King Edward [...] name,
And falsely in that name the Crowne did claime,
But he was tane and iustly whip'd and tortur'd,
And claiming it once more, was hang'd & quarterd.
King Philip won Saint Quintins with great cost.
But after to our shame was Callice lost,
Callice was lost, which threescore yeeres and ten,
Had beene a Garrison for Englishmen.
Thus by Gods mercy Englands Queene did dye,
And England gain'd much ease and rest thereby.
Fiue yeeres and 4. months was her bloudy reigne,
And all her glory doth one graue containe.
[Page 294]Though of her selfe this Queene was well inclin'd,
Bad-minded counsell altred much her minde.

She married Philip King of Spaine, on Saint Iames his day, 1554. at Winchester.

Callice was won by Edward the 3. in the 21. of his reigne, 1347. and it was lost the I. of Ianuary 1557. after the English-men had possest it 210. yeeres.

August 7. 1558. a tempest neere Nottingham, beat downe 2. Townes and Churches, and cast the Bels to the further side of the Church-yard, threw whole sheetes of Lead 400. foot into the fields, where they were crumpled together like burns parchment: the streame and mud of the Riuer of Trent was blowne a-land a quarter of a mile: a childe blowne out of a mans hand 100. foot and kild: there fell hayle 15. Inches about.

Queene Elizabeth. An. Dom. 1558.
A Debora, a Iudith, a Susanna,
A Virgin, a Virago, a Diana:
Couragious, Zealous, Learned, Wise and Chasle,
With heauenly, earthly gifts, adorn'd and grac'd,
Victorious, glorious, bountious, gracious, good,
And one, whose vertues dignifi'd her bloud,
That Muses, Graces, Armes, and liberall Arts,
Amongst all Queens, proclaim'd her Queen of hearts,
She did repurifie this Land once more,
From the infection of the Romish whore.
Now Abbies, Abbots, Fri'rs, Monks, Nuns & Stews,
Masses, and Masse-priests, that mens soules abuse,
Were all cast downe, Lamps, Tapers, Relikes, Beads,
And Superstitions that mans soule misse-leads,
All Popish pardons, Buls. Consessions,
With Crossings, Cristening bels, Saints, Interces­sions,
The Altars, Idols, Images downe cast,
All Pilgrimage, and Superstitious Fast,
Th'acknowledging the Pope for supreme head,
The holy water, and the god of bread,
The mumbling Mattins, and the pickpurse Masse,
These bables this good Queene did turne to grasse.
She caus'd Gods seruice to be said and sung,
In our owne vnderstanding English tongue.
In Scotland and in France, fierce warres she held,
The Irish she subdu'd when they rebeld,
The Netherlands her name doe still admire,
And Spaine her like againe doth not desire.
When forty foure yeers reigne was past and gone,
She chang'd her earthly for a heauenly Throne,
At Greenwich she was borne, at Richmond dy'd,
At Westminster she buried doth abide;
And as the fame of this Imperiall Ma [...]de,
Is through the world, (by the foure winds) displaid,
So shall her memory for euer grace
Her famous birth, her death, and buriall place.

At Teuxbury Anno 1574. the 24. of February, being. a hard frost, the Riuer of Seuerne was couered with Fl [...] and Beetles, so that it was thought, within the length of a paire of Bu [...], to be 100. quarters of them, the m [...]en stopped with them, but from whence they came, is unknown.

1582. A piece of Land of three Acres in Dorsotshire i [...] the Parish of Armitage, was suddenly remoo [...]ed 600. f [...]t from the place where formerly it stood.

King Iames. An. Dom. 1601.
VVHen as Elizaes wofull death was acted:
When this lamenting land was halfe distracted [...]
Whē tears each loyall heart with grief had drown'd,
Then came this King and made our ioyes abound,
Ordain'd for vs by heauenly power diuine,
Then from the North this glorious starre did shine,
The Roall Image of the Prince of Peace,
The blest Concorder that made warres to cease;
By Name a STEVVARD, and by Nature one,
Appointed from I [...]houahs sacred Throne,
And by th'almighties hand supported euer,
That Treason or the Diuell should hurt him ne [...]
And as his Zeale vnto his God was great,
Gods blessings on him were each way compleat,
Rich in his Subiects loue (a Kings best treasure)
Rich in content, (a Riches aboue measure)
Rich in his Princely Issue, and in them,
Rich in his hopefull Branches of his stemme;
Rich in Munition, and a Nauy Royall,
And richer then all Kings in seruants Loyall.
When Hell and Rome together did conspire,
To blow him and his kingdome vp with fire,
Then did the King of King [...] preserue our King,
And all the Traytors to confusion bring.
And who so reckons vp from first to last,
The many hel-hatch'd dangers he hath past
Through all his daies, he will beleeue (no doubt)
That he with heauenly pow'rs was wall'd about.
All Christian Princes held his friendship deare,
Was fear'd for loue, and not belou'd for feare:
[Page 294]And P [...]gan Monarchs were in League combin'd
With him, as farre as is the Easterne Inde.
[...] like a st [...] amidst a Riuer fix'd,
[...] was his [...]flic [...] with his mercy mix'd:
He [...]riu'd to imitate his Maker still,
[...]ed clemency preseru'd where Law would kill.
He hath cur'd England, and heal'd Scotlands wounds,
And made them both great (anciēt) Britains bounds:
[...] bloudy deadly [...]eud the caus'd [...] cease,
And [...]'d hate he turn'd to Christian peace,
The mouth of warre he muzzled mute and dum,
He fill'd the roaring Cannon and the Drum:
[...]ure in peace, his people si [...] and dine,
With their owne fig-trees shaded and their vine,
Whilst in an vprore most of Christendome,
[...]e nation doth another ouercome.
Vnto the King of Kings let's pratles sing.
For giuing vs this happy peacefull King.
[...]one know so well how they should peace prefer,
[...]s those that know the miseries of warre:
[...]Tis true (though old) and must not be forgot.
The warres are sweet to such as know them not.
Peace (happy peace) doth spread tranquillity,
Through all the bounds of Britaines Monarchy;
And may we all our actions still addresse,
For peace with God, and warre 'gainst wickednesse.
Vnto which peace of God this King's ascended,
[...]o reigne in glory that shall ne'r be ended.
His mortall part at Westminster enter'd,
His soule and Fame immortally preser'd.

God did wonderfully preserue him (vpon two seueral [...] Tue [...]daies) from 2 most dangerous treasons, the one at the Towne of Saint Iohnston in Scotland, on Tuesday the 5. of August, 1600. where the Earle of Gowry attemptea to kill his Maiesty. The other was in Eng­land, in that fearfull treason and deliucrance from the Powder-plot, on Tuesday the 5. of November. 1606.

King CHARLES.
TWo Williams, Henries 8. I. Steuen, I. Iohn,
Sixe Edwards, Richards 3. and I. Queene Mary:
Elizabeth, and Iames, all dead and gone,
Our gracious Charles doth now the Scepter carry;
And may they liue and dye of God accurst,
Who wish the preiudice of Charles the first.

[...]ust 25. Kings and Queenes of England since the Norman Con­quest.

A BRIEFE REMEMBRANCE OF ALL THE ENGLISH MO­narchs, from the Normans Con­quest, vntill this present.

TO THE HONOVRABLE AND TRVLY Noble, Sir ROBERT CARR, Knight, one of the Gentlemen of his Maiesties Royall Bed-chamber, &c.

TIs not in expectation of reward,
That I this booke vnto your hands doe ten­der;
But in my humble dutie, in regard
That I am bound my daily thanks to render.
And though my stile be harsh my learning slender,
My Verse defectiue, and my Accent rude;
Yet if your Patronage be my Defender,
Iam defended'gainst a multitude.
Thus (to auoyd Hell-hatch'd ingratitude,
My dutious Love) my Liues, and Life shall be,
To you deuoted euer to conclude,
May you and your most vertuous Ladie see
Long happie dayes, in Honour still encreasing;
And after death, true Glorie neuer ceasing.
Your Honours in all seruice, Iohn Taylor,

WILLIAM THE FIRST, Surnamed the CONQVEROVR; KING OF ENGLAND, And DVKE OF NORMANDY.

BY bloody Battels, Conquest, and by Fate,
Faire Englands Crown & kingdome l surpris'd:
Itopsie-tutuy turn'd elie Eng'ish State,
And Lawes and Customes new and strange deuis'd.
And where [...] vanquisht there I tyrannaiz'd,
Instead of peoples loue inforcing feare:
Extorting Ioils I daily exercis'd,
And Tributes, greater then the Land could beare,
Besides, (the Normans fame the more to reare)
The English I forbad the English tongue,
French Schooles of Grammer I ordayned here,
And gainst this Nation added wrong to wrong.
At last my Crown, Sword, scepter, Cōquest braue
I left, I lost, scarce found an earthly Graue.

Anno 1066, October 14, Saturday.

William Conqueror, the sonne of Robert the 6. Duke of Normandy, Ianded with a 1000. shippes furnished with men, horse & all warlike prouision, at Hastings in Sussex, and after a bloody battell with King Harold, with the slaughter of nere 70000. men on both parts, Hareld beeing slaine, Duke Wil­liam came in Triumph to London, and was crowned at Westminster on Christmas day following, by, Aldred Archbisbop of Yorke: he vsed his victorie; and conquest here tyrannically; dispossesing most part of the English of their lands, giuing them to the Normans, for which appressions he was conti­nually molested; sometimes with the Danes,then with the Welsh, with the Scots out of Ireland, and at home amongst his owne people: besides, many mise­ries did at once afflict this Land, as I. an vniuersall feauer amongst people, 2 Barrennesse of the ground, 3 Dearth and famine, 4 Moraine of Cattell, and the Church of St Pauls in London burnt, and all that was in it; The Country extremely ruin'd and spoy­led for 60 miles space betwixt York and Durham. The king pulled downe 36 Churches, Townes and Villages, laying the Country waste and open for 30 miles space from the City of Salisbury Southward, which is now called Newforrest, and was by him made a wildernes or place for beasts for his game of hunting. In which place, (by Gods iust Iudgement) his second sonne Richard was kil'd by a Deere, his son K. William Rusus kil'd for a Deer, & Henry his grandchilde strucke into the iawes with a bough, and hanged so, till he was found dead. Neuerthlesse, he built many Abbies, Priories, Garisons, Houses, and Caslles; amongst the which, the Towre of Lon­don was one: He died at Roane 1087 September 9. he was not onely robd and risted of all his goods and Kingly ornaments and riches, but barbarously strip­ped and left naked on the floore, not hauing any one to attend his carcasse, but for saken of all. Such is the frailty and misery of earthly greatnesse. Lastly, he had much adoe to get a graue, which in the end (with great difficulty) was purchased for him at Cane in Normandy.

WILLIAM THE IJ, Surnamed RVFVS, KING OF ENGLAND And DVKE OF NORMANDY.

VVHat my triumphant Father wan, I held,
I pill'd & poll'd this Kingdom more then he,
Great Tributes from my people I compeld:
No place in Church or Common-wealth was freee,
But alwaies those that would giue most to me,
Obtain'd their purpose being wrong or right.
The Clergy I enforced to agree,
To sell Church-plate and Chalices out-right.
Vntill at last (by the Almighties might)
My Kingly power and force was forcelesse made,
My glorious pompe that seem'd t'eclips mens sight,
Did vanish by a glance, by chance, and fade:
For hunting in new-forrest (voyd of feare)
A Subiect flew me shooting at Decre.

Anno 1087. September 26. being Sunday.

William the second, surnamed Rufus (by [...] son of his ruddy or red colour) was crowned at Westminster, by Lanfrank, Archbishop of Can [...] ­terbury his elder brother Robert being Duke [...] Normandy, who likewise claimed the Crowne, [...] he was pacified with the mediation of the friends [...] William, and the promise of 3000 markes a yeere [...] Robert departed this Land, after is had beene [...] wasted with their contentions. Then, after little breathing time, the Welsh arose in Armes, and Malcolme King of Scots Inuaded England burning and spolying as farre as Chester. [...] soone as the peace was made betwixt the King William and Malcolme, the two brothers Wil­liam and Robert sell at oddes again, and again are appeased. After that, Malcolme King of Sco [...] made an inroad into England againe, whom Ro [...] ­bert Moubray Earle of Northumberland (ly [...] in ambush) suddenly slew; in which action, Edw [...] King Malcolms sonne, likewise was slaine. Af [...] which, the third time, the 2 brothers, Robert [...] William, sell againe at variance, and after [...] trouble, are againe reconciled. Then Duke Robert [...] goeth to Ierusalem and conquers it. In the yeere 1099. the Schisme began, there beeing 2 Popes, [...] at Rome, the other at Auigniou in France. The K. William was as valiant a prince as the war [...] yeelded, and a great opposer of the indirect cours [...] the see of Rome. Many fearefull things happened in his reigne; as earthquakes, dreadfull lightning and Apparitions, Blazing Commets in strange [...] gures, Inundations, & Deluges to the destruction is people, and much land ouerwhelmed with the [...]neuer to be recouered: amongst the which, [...] Goodwins lands were drowned, and are now c [...] Goodwin sands. At Finchamsted in Barkin [...] there was a Well of blood, which flowed 15 dayes When this King had reigned neere 13 years, he was vnfortunately slaine by a French Knight, S t Wa­ter Tirrell, and brought to Winchester in a C [...] ­liers cart, and there buried, Anno 1100, Ang [...].

HENRY THE FIRST, Surnamed BEAVCLARKE, KING OF ENGLAND, And DVKE OF NORMANDY.

MY Father and my Brother Kings, both gone,
With acclamations Royall I was crown'd:
Had hauing gain'd the Scepter and the Throne,
I with the name of Beauclarke was renown'd:
The English Lawes long lost, I did refound,
False waights and measures I corrected true,
The power of Wales in fight I did confound,
And Normandy my valour did subdue.
Yet I vnmindfull whence these glories grew,
My eldest Brother Robert did surprise,
Detain'd him, and vsurp'd his Royall due,
And most, vnnat' rally pluckt out his eyes,
Kings liue like Gods, but yet like men they dye,
All must pay Natures due, and to did I.

Anno 1100. August I, Wednesday.

Henry the I, a Prince of incomparable wisdom & learning, for which indowments he was surnamed Beauclark, he mollified the seuentty of his Father and brother lawes, he cashierd and punished all flat­rers & parasites frō his Court; but his elder brother Robert, Duke of Normandy, hearing of the death of his brother Rufus, makes haste from is Conquest and Kingdome of Ierusalem, (if hee had pleased) and comming into England, landed at Ports­mouth, claiming the Crowne; but by aduice of the Nobles on either part it was agreed, that King Hen­ry should pay vnto Duke Robert 3000 markes yeerely; but by the instigation of some discontented persons, the two brothers disagree againe: and in the fift yeere of King Henry, Duke Robert landed in England again; then there was a [...]ay­ned peace made between them, which in the 7 yeere of this king was broken, and in the 8 yeere, King Henry tooke his brother, Duke Robert, and caused his eyes to be put out, Thus, iust the same day forty yeers, that the Duke of Nor­mandy conquered England, that very day did this Henry the first King of England conquerNormandy. Henry the fourth Emperour of Germany marryed Maude the Daughter of king Henry. This King was the first thai ordained the High court of Parliament. In the yeare 1020. Prince William, the sonne of king Henry, of the age of 17, crossing the Seas from France towards England, with his wife, the Duke of Anious daughter, and his sister Maud, the Lady Lucy a Neece of the Kings, the Earle of Chester, with diuers other Noblemen, Ladies and others, to the number of 160, were all most miserably drown'd, not any of them saued but a poor Butcher. The king hauing no children left, but his daughter Maude the Empresse. The Emperor her Husband beeing dead, she came into England, (to whom the king her father) caused his Nobles to sweare allegeance as to his lawfull heire after his decease, which Empresse after was married to Ieffrie Plantagenet Earle of Aniou. The King after many troubles with the French, Welsh, Scots and Englsih, with forraigne and Ciuill warres, vnfortunate and vntimely losse of children and friends, after 35 yeeres reigns, he dyed at Saint Dennis in Normandy, whose corpes were brought into England and buried at Reding, 1135.

STEPHEN, KING OF ENGLAND, AND DVKE OF NORMANDY,

BY wrested Titles and vsurping claime,
Through storms & tempests of tumultuous wars,
The Crowne (my fairest marke and foulest ayme)
I wonne and wore, beleaguerd round with iars.
The English, Scots and Normans all prepares
Their powers, exposing to oppose my powers,
Whilst this land ladeo and o'rwhelm'd with cares,
Fndures, whilst war, wo, want and death deuoures.
But as yeers, months, weeks, days decline by houres,
Houres into minutes, minutes into nought:
My painfull pompe decai'd like fading flowers,
And vnto nought was my Ambition brought.
Thus is the state of transitory things:
Ther's nothing can be permanent with Kings.

Anno 1135. December 26. Munday.

On Saint Stephens day, Stephen Earle of Mor­taigue and Bulloyne, the Sonne of Stephen E [...] Bloys and Champaine, was crowned at Westminster by William Corbell Archbishop of Canterbury, tak [...] Gouernement vpon him vsurpingly, compare to his [...] made to King Henry the I, in the behalf of Maudth' Em­presse, for the which his whole reigne was full of como [...] all troubles. For the Empresse claiming her right, great parties weere taken on each side: the King had on his part his brother Henry. Bishop of Winchester, William Archbishop of Canterbury, Roger, Bishop of Salisb­ury, Hugh Bigott late Lord Steward to King Henry the first. On the Empresse part were Robert, Earle of Glocester her halfe brother, Dauid, King of Scotland, Owen and Cadwallader, sent to Griffith ap Co [...], Prince of Wa es; and in Normandy, Geffry, the Em­presse Husband made hauocke in the right of his [...] in which space the King was dangerously sicks, recouered, and went into Normandy, appeasing the tumults, and leauing his Sonne Eustace Duke there, makes league with France, buyes his peace with the Empresse for 5000 marks yeerely, and returnes into England: after which Dauid King of Scotland, with his valiant Sonne Pre [...] Henry, wasted and spoyled call the North parts of Eng­land, till by Thurstane, Archbishop of York, and Ralp [...] Bishop of Durham, He was [...] and discomfited: In [...] me and space, K. Stephen in diuers parts of this Kingdom was victortous, chasing and killing many of those but a [...] posed him, inforcing Robert, Earle of Glocester, to [...] into France, [...]whilst Stephen in England [...] [...] and Castles. After in a great [...] the King was [...] at Lincolne by th' Empresse and committed [...] Bristow Castle: but the Nobility distastins the [...] s [...]rict gouernment, fell off from her to King Stephens [...] againe. In these broyles more the [...] Char [...] burnt in Winchester with almost the wha [...] [...] med to ashes. In the end Robert, Eearle of Glocester was taken prisoner, and ex [...]hanged for King Stephen [...] the warres more and more encreasing; till at last, [...] mercy looking on this miserable Land, was pleased [...] Stephen should ordaine Henry the Empresse form Sonne [...] Hetre, after him, vpon which conditions peace [...] blished. The King aged at Douer, and was buried at Fe­uersham, October 25, 1154. hauing reigned [...] all vexation neere 19 yeeres.

HENRY THE SECOND, KING OF ENGLAND, DVKE OF NORMANDY, Guyen and Aquitaine, &c.

TO th'Empresse Maud I was vndoubted Heyre,
And in her Right, my Title being iust,
By iustice I obtain'd the Regall Chayre.
Fayre Rosamond I soyled with soule lust,
For which Heauens lustice (hating deeds vniust)
Stir'd vp my Wife and Sonnes to be my foes:
Who sought to lay my Glory in the dust
And he m'd me round with cruell warres and woes.
They poys'ned my sweete beautious tainted [...]
By Isabels deuice my furious Queene;
My very bowels 'gainst me did oppose:
Such fruit hath lust, such force hath iealons spleene.
My cursed cross [...]s made me curse my birth,
With her I liu'd, raignd, died, and arm'd to earth.

Anno [...] [...] [...]

[...]

RICHARD THE FIRST, Surnamed CVER DE LYON, KING OF ENGLAND, DVKE OF NORMANDY, Guyen and Aquitaine, &c.

THrough my Creators mercy and his might,
Ierusalem! conquer'd and set free,
False mis-beleeuing Iewes, and Turkish spight,
From Iury force perforce I forc'd to flee.
The Realme of Cypresse was subdude by me.
Su [...]ha trembled at my prowesse bold.
King Tanered bought his peace, and did agree,
And paid me threescore ounces of fine gold:
Whilst I abroad won Honour manifold,
Aspiring Iohn (my brother) vext my Realme.
In Austria I was tane, and laid in hold:
Thus noods of griefe each way me ouer whelme.
At last I home return'd, my ransome paid,
My earthly glory in a Graue was laid.

Anoo 1189 Iuly, 6, Thursday.

Richard the first, (surnamed Cuer De Lyon, or Ly­ons Heart, was crowned at Westminster by Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury; Shortly after his Co [...] ­tion, he sold and pawned lands, and gathering a great sum of 1100000 [...]. he left England in the guidance of Wil­liam Longchamp Bishop of Ely, (the Popes Legate, and Lord Chancelor of England) William king of Scotla'd being in amity with King Richard: this king sailed in France, with whom the French K. Philip went with their armies toward the holy Land in their voyage, they touched the kingdom of Sicilia, where Tancred the vsurping King of that Country gaue king Richard 6000. ounces of [...] (I know not whether it was for loue or feare) He saild from thence, and in a Tempest his Nauie was disperst, and fo [...] wrack'd neere the lle of Cyprus, whom lsakius the by courteous King of that kingdome would not harbour vnlieue; but contrarily pillaged and abused. king Richard and inraged, landed, conquerd Cyprus, carrying the king and his daughter away prisoners, leauing the kingdoms vds [...] two trusty Viceryes; hee put againe to Sea, bit [...] number more then 300, he met with a great Arg [...] [...] [...] the Sarazens with 1500 men in her, and fur [...] munition, and victuals, for their friends at Acon, [...] Argosey the King tooke, after hee sailed to Acon, [...] ciently called Ptol omais) which City he likewise conque­red (Philip king of France being with him) and [...] ­med 1500 Christians that were there in bondage. The king of France (weary, or ennious of King Richards [...] ries) returned home; In the meane time, Earle Iohn Kings brother, driues the proud gouerning Bishop of E [...] out of his gouernment, and this kingdome. T [...] [...] King Richard fortified Ascalon, marched before Ien [...] lem, fought with the Salladine, & took 7000 C [...] other beasts, killing the Infidels in heaps. At last, [...] Duke of Burgundy forsakes the warres, whereby th [...] was inforced to come to truce with the Saladine, for [...] yeeres. Hee returning in disguise like a March [...], [...] discouered and taken by Leopoldus Duke of Austria, [...] the Emperor took him from him. In the meant space, [...] the Kings brother vseth all the foule play he c [...] Crowne. After 15 moneths imprisonment, the king [...] released, paying a great Ransome: be landed in England was crowned againe at Winchester, for gaue his brother Iohn, sailed into Normandy against his mortall e [...] the King of France, who fled from the siege of Vernoy [...] so soene as he heard of Richards comming; yet new [...] [...] arose betweene them, wherein King Richard was [...] Vi­ctorius. Lastly, at the battell of Gisors 1192 after [...] sion, he was most infortunately slain, at the siege of [...] named Chaluz, with an Arrow the 6 of April, 119 [...] hauing reigned nobly and prosperously neere 10 yeere.

IOHN, KING OF ENGLAND, DVKE OF NORMANDY, Guyen and Aquitaine, LORD OF IRELAND, &c.

ROmes mighty miter'd Metropolitan
I did oppose, and was by him depos'd:
He turn'd this cursed blessings to his ban,
And caus'd me round to be with cares inclos'd,
The English and the Normans me oppos'd,
And Lewis of France my Kingdome did molest,
Whilst I to all these miseries expos'd,
Consum'd my Kingly dayes in restlesse rest.
At last the Pope was pleas'd, and I reblest:
Peace was obtain'd, proclaim'd, I re-inthroan'd.
This was my raigne with woes opprest and prest,
Blest curst, friends, foes, diuided and aron'd.
And after seuenteene yeeres were gone and past,
At Swinsted poys'ned, there I dranke my last.

Anno 1199, Aprill 6, Tuesday.

Iohn [...]stly intruded the Crowne, it being by right his nephew Arthurs, who was sonne to Ieffry Duke of Britaine, Iohns eldest brother) howsoeuer Iohn was crowned on the 6 of May at Westminster by Hubert, Archbishop of Canterbury; but after a false reconciliati­on betwixt Philip King of France, Iohn, king of Eng­land, and Arthur, 'Duke of Britaine, the said Duke Arthur was murthered: some Authors (in malice) taxing king Iohn with the murther, and some Writers altoge­ther clearing him. Hoasoeuer he had not one quiet day in his whole-Reigne; his Principalities in France seazed only the French, Wales in combustion, Ireland in vp­roare, Scotland preparing against him, England all in confusion, defender and hurliburly, the King, the Peeres, the Prelates and Commons at perpetuall diuisioen. The Pope of Rome thunders out his Excommunications against the King and all that obeyed him, and interacts the whole Realme: Soe that for three yeeres no Church was opened either for Gods Seruice to be exercised, or Sacraments administred. There was no Christian buriall allowed to any, but the Carcasses of the dead were barbarously laid in vnhallowed places, or cast like dogges into ditches: yet all this time many of the English Nobilitie loyally serued their Soueraigne, mangre the Papall Anathemizing. The King went into Ireland, and finding it shattered into contentions, fractures; ioynes, and vnites it againe, and returnes into England: When suddenly Lewilyn Prince of Northwales (who had married King Iohns daugh­ter) inuades the Marches of England; but Lewilyn was soyled, and Wales conquered. But in the yeere 1211, the Popes set all curse beganne to fall heauy vpon king Iohn, which curse also made many great: Lords and other to far from the King; neuerthelesse, (Scotland being in contention by a Traytor that claimed the Crowne there, [...] Gothred) King John went thither, & aided his friend K. William, and in that expedition set all in good peace, & taking the Traitor Gothred, caused him to be hanged; The Pope very liberally gaue the kingdome of England to Phil. of France, An. 1112. More then 3000 people were burn'd & drown'd on & vnder London bridge in the space of 4 yeers, King John made his peace with the Pope, surrendred his Crown to Pandulphus the Legat, & for money and good words was blest, and had his Crowne againe. Philip of France attempts Englands inuasion, his Fleet is beaten, discontented, sunke, scattered, taken by king Iohn. Lewis the Dolphin of France landed at Sarawich with 650 ships, came to London, and tooke oaths of Allegeance of the Barons and Citizens in Pauls: yet at last, Lewis it forsaken of the English Lords, yet holds possessions heere. King Iohn being thus freed from Inuasion and Forraigne assaults, was assaulted with poy­son by a Monk in Swinsted Abbey; hauing reigned more powerfull then fortunate 17 yeeres, 5 moneths and odde dayes, was interred at Worcester.

HENRY THE THIRD, KING OF ENGLAND, LORD OF JRELAND, DVKE OF NORMANDY, G [...]en and Aquitaine, &c.

IN toyle and trouble midst contentions broyles,
[...] z'd the Scepter of this famous land,
Then being gready wasted with the spoyles
Which [...] I made with his French furious band:
But I with Peeres and people brauely mand,
Repald, repulst, expa [...]st insulting foes.
My [...]ons did my Soueraignty withstand,
And wrap them [...] and me in warres and woes:
But in each Battell none but I did lose,
I lost my Subiects lines on euery side:
(From Ciuill warres no better gaining growes)
Friends, foes, my people all, that fought or died.
My gaines was losse, my pleasure was my paine,
These were the triumphs of my troublous raigne.

Anno 1216, October 19, Wednesday.

Henry the third, the eldest sonne of King Ioha, and Isabel, which was the daughter of Aym [...]r Earle of A [...] ­golesme; Thus Henry was borne at Winchester, [...] first crowned at Gloucester, by Peter, Bishop of Win­chester, & Iosseline Bishop of Bath and after ag [...]man with his Lords, he was againe crownes at Westminster by Stephen Langton, Archbishop of Conterbury, [...] Whitsanday, God (in mercy) lookes gentle [...] calamities that this wofull Land pressed by forraigne warres and ciuill discord. It all turned to a happy [...] betwixt the King and his Lords, which continued a long time. Gualo the Popes Legate, the Bishop of Winchester, William Marshall Earle of Pombroke being the protector of the Kings Realme (the King [...] [...] old) by whose good gouernment. Lewts the [...] of France, with all his French Armies were exp [...]ed out of the kingdome. The King forg [...]e all of the La [...] the had taken part with Lewis but he made the Clerg [...] great sines. Alexander the King of Scotland, was married to the Leaytane sister to King Henry, at which mi­siery Dragons were [...] [...] [...] the [...] coun [...] fellow said he [...] Iesus Christ, sheuing the markes [...] were of Nayles in his hands & feet, [...]er the which bla [...] my bewa [...] Crucified at a place called Atterbury neare the Towne of Banbury. Some say hee was [...] two walls and started at Cathnes in Scotland. The Bishop did excem [...] the people, because they would [...] pay their Tithes, for the which they burned the Bishop aliue for reward of which wicked act, their King caused 400. of the chife offenders to be [...]arged, golded [...] [...] dr [...] and put the Earle from his Earledoms, Iohn, King of Ierusclem, came into England to [...]raue [...] de [...]f King Henry, But the King was so busied here, that he co [...]al [...] ayd him. K. Henry with a great Arm: went into Britaine against Lewis, King of France, and spoyled the C [...] mighty; till at last, a Peace was co [...]l [...]ded. The Emperor Fred [...]rick married the Lady Isabell the King [...]. Eig [...] Iewes were hanged for cru [...]ring a [...]dre Lincolne. Richard Earle of Cornwall (the Kings [...] ther) was made King of the Romanes. The King l [...] [...] lands in France, except the Duchy of Aquitaine; Wales was in insurrection, Ireland in rebellion, England in a hurty-burly, [...]stoy all Diuision betwixt the King and his [...] Lords, Anno 1233. 5 Sunnes were [...]e [...]u [...] [...] [...] in the East, one in the West, one in the South, [...] in the North [...] the fifth in the m [...]st of the firmament, The King entertaines Poictouines out of France, and giues them places of great honour in Court and [...] [...] which made the English Barons raise At [...] agan [...] King. The Earl of Leicester and Gloucester [...]the King of England in the battell at Lewes. The Lord Chiefe iustue [...]'d in Westminster- [...]; [...], after all these ones, the King dyed in peace, hauing reigned 56 yeeres, [...] burried at Westminster. 127 [...].

EDWARD THE FIRST, KING OF ENGLAND, LORD OF IRELAND, DVKE OF AQVITAINE, &c.

MY Victories, my Valour, and my strength,
My actions, and my neuer-conquer'd name,
[...]ere spred throughout the world in bredth & lēgth
[...] mortall deeds, I want immortall Fame.
[...]ebellious Wales I finally did tame,
[...] made them Vassalls to my princely Sonne:
[...]red Scotland fierce with Sword and Flame,
[...]d almost all that Kingdome ouer-run.
[...]ll where I fought, triumphantly I won,
[...]hrough Blood and Death my glory I obtain'd:
[...] in the end, when all my Acts were done,
[...] Sepulcher was all the game I gain'd.
For though great Kings contend for earthly sway,
Death binds them to the peace and parts the fray.

An. Dom. 1272. Nouember, Wednesday.

Edward the first was 35 yeares old when he beganne to reigne, but at the death of his Father, he was in warres in the Holy L [...]d against the Saracens: So that he re­turned not home till the next yeere, a [...]time hee was crowned the 14 day of December: in the second yeere of his reigne, the [...]mins [...]ty of [...] Coro [...] [...] performed by Robert K [...]lwarby Ar [...] of Canterbury) at Westminster. Thus King brought Wales wholy vnto subsection to the crowne of England, he effect [...] peace, be caused all co [...]tred Iudges and Officers of Note to be must exemplertly p [...]n [...]ea, with sines, [...] pri [...]men: and bantshment. A Nauy of 60 English, s [...]ps ou [...]ams and tooke 800 ships of France, An. 1293. Sir William Wallace A Noble va [...]ant Sco [...]) a [...]d warr [...] vpon King Edward, and in the seruice of his Countrey, did much [...] to England. The King ca [...] this Sonne Edward being an in [...]rt) to be the first Prince of Wales that was of to [...] English blood. Since when all the Kings of Englands elaest Sonnes are by right Princes of Wales. 284 Iewes were executed for [...]ptes, of the Kings coyne. An 1280. King Edward caused Bay [...]trds Castle to be buils in London, (now the mansion house of the Right Honourable Earle of Pemb [...].) In the 15 yeers of this kings reigne, Wheate was sold for 3 d the B [...]she [...] and the next yeere, being 1288, it was sold for 18 d the Bush [...] which in those d [...]ies was accoūted a great price; but after; as long as The King liued, the price came to 5 [...] the Bashell. King Edwards Armi [...]ew 70000 of the Scots, in one day as the [...]tt [...]k of Fau [...]rke. Sir William Wallace was betray­ed, taken and brought out of Scotland, and executed in Smithfield, has head being set on London Bridge, and his quarters sent into Scotland: yes be is by [...] men had in Honorable remembrance. The warres [...] so set in this Kings reigne, betwixt him and the Scots, that (as [...]enerall times) there were more then 130000 men slaine on both parts: yet amongst all our English Kings that past before him, Edward was not inferiour today, he was re­ligious, valiant, victorious, wise, affable, of a comely Ma­ [...]estmall Aspect and proportion: he had two wiues, the first was Eleanor, daughter to Ferdinand the third King of Castile, the second was Margaret, daughter to Philip surnamed Hardy) King of France, by them hee had 4 Sonnes, and 10 Daughters, bee reigned neere 35 yeeres, and was burried at Westminster, 1307. July, 7.

EDWARD, THE II, KING OF ENGLAND, LORD OF IRELAND, DVKE OF AQVITAINE, &c.

SOone after was my fathers corps inter'd
Whilst Fate and Fortune did on me attend:
And to the Royall Throne I was prefer'd,
With A [...]e Ceaser, euery knee did bend,
But all these fickle ioyes did fading end,
Peirce Gaueston to thee my loue combind:
My friendship to thee scarce left me a friend,
But made my Queene, Peeres, People, all vnkind,
I tortur'd, both in body and in mind,
Was vanquisht by the Scots at Bannocki Rourne,
And I enfor'cd b flight some safety find,
Yet taken by my Wife at my returne,
A red-hot Spit my Bowels through did gore,
Such misery, no slaue endured more.

Anno Dom. 1307, Iuly 8.

Edward the second, surnamed Carnaruan, [...] cause he was born at Carnaruan Castle is Wales was crowned at Westminster by the hands of Wil­liam Bishop of Winchester, (deputy for Robert Archbishop of Canterbury, then absent in exile) [...] 24 of February next following. He was much [...]cted to follow the aduice and counsell of light [...] which caused the Nobility to rebel against him [...] at the first he ouercame them, and tooke. Thomas Earle of Lancaster (a Peers of the blood) their chief Leader, & fate in iudgment himself on him at Pom­fret, where the Earle had iudgment giuen against him to be drawne, for is Treason, for his murder spoyle, burning & robberies to be hangd, and for his shamefull flying away, to be beheaded; but because [...] was of the Kings kindred, he was only beheaded, [...] the last such of the Barons as had escap'd (& [...] the Mortimers) with the helpe of the Queene [...] the yong Prince, (then come out of France newly) tooke the King and imprisoned him; neuer [...] kingdome in more [...]sery then this Kings [...] for his immoderate loue to Peirce Gau [...] (a meane Gentleman of France) was the cause of the Kings and has owne destruction, with the [...] calamity of the [...] kingdom. This Gaueston [...] banished hence by the Kings father, & was in [...] times exil'd but at his third [...]rne, Guy [...] Watwick, took him, & in Warwick Castle [...] his head to be snore off; which so inraged the [...] [...]ing King that bee vowed reuenge vpon all [...] Lords & others who were the causers of Gauest [...] death: in the meane space Robert Bruce, King Scots, gaue King Edward a mighty ouer [...] place cal'd Bannocksbourne, where the English [...] their confederates, Hollanders, Brabanders, [...] landers, Flemings, Picards, Gascognes, [...] mans, Poloiners, wer in number; ooooo [...] foot; yet were discomfited with the losse of 5000 [...] the King in great danger to be taken; famine foul and pestilence at once afflicted England, so that [...] ple did eat one another halfe-aliue, and the [...] scarce able to bury the deed. The King prepares for reuenge against his Lords for Gaueston, [...] Hugh Dispencer, from meane estate, to be [...] Chamberlaine. The King caused 2 [...] of his [...] suffer death diuers [...]. He makes a second [...] against Scotland, & [...] againe with great [...] [...] [...] [...]. This was the miserable [...] this King, who was deposed, the Spencers [...] Edward reign'd 19 years 7 months and 17 days.

EDWARD THE IIJ, KING OF ENGLAND, And FRANCE, LORD OF IRELAND,

IN Peace and War, my Stars auspicious stood,
False Fortune stedfast held her wauering wheele;
I did reuenge my Fathers butcher'd blood,
I forced France my furious force to feele:
I warr'd on Scotland with triumphing Steele,
Afflicting them with slaughtering Sword and Fire:
That Kingdome then diuided needs must reele:
Betwixt the Bruces and the Balliols ire:
Thus daily still my glory mounted higher,
With black Prince Edward my victorious Sonne,
Vnto the top of honour wee alpire,
By manly Princely, worthy actions done.
But all my Triumphs, fortunes, strength and force,
Age brought to death, & death turn'd to a Coarse.

Anno 1327, Ianuary 25, Saturday.

Edward the 3 being borne at Windsor, being 15 yeers old, was crowned by Walter Reignolds, Arcbishop of Canterbury [...] in his 2 yeere, Edward his Father was murthred; The Court in those daies, was seldome without a vipē, for as Gaueston was the forerūner of the Spencers in ambition, rapine, pride, and confusion. So the Spencers were the vshers of the Mortimers intollarable aspiring conetousnesse and destruction, and which was most insup­portable, there were for all most 20 yeers space, the plagues and desolation of the King and kingdomes. After great coutentions were betwixt the 2 Realmes of England and Scotland, a peace was concluded, and Dauid-le Bruce the young Prince of Scotland, was married to Iane, King Ed­ward the 3 sister. K. Edward maried with the Lady Phi­lip, daughter to the Earle of Henault at Yorke, with whom she liu'd 42 yeers. She sounded Queens Colledge in Oxford: She was mother to that mirrour of manhood, and st [...] of Chiu [...] it, Edward, surnamed the black Prince. There was a dreadfull batell sought at Hallidon hill, in which were slaine, 8 Earles, 80 Knights and Baroness, and 35000 Common soldiers on the Scots side, the losses on the English side through the parciality of Writers were not set downe. About the 12 yeers of this Kings reigne, a quar­ter of Wheate was sold for 28, an Oxe 6 d a Geose 2d, a fat Sheepe 6 d, fixe Pidgeons and a fat Pigge for 2 d. The King claimed the Crowne of France, and with 200 ships sought with 300 French ships, and flew 33000 of the French. This King first instituted the Honorable Order of the Garter at Windsor, there being alwaies 26 in num­ber.) The King sought the battell of Cressie in France, wherein was slain the King of Bohemia, with 10 Princes, 80 Knights Baroness and 1200 Knights, with 330000 Common Soldiers. The King made 4 inroades into Scot­land with great armies, and was still victorious. Anno 1338, the arms of France were quartered wth the armes of England: the King prepared a great armie against France, and on the Sea, neere Sluce in Flanders, he van­quished 400 French ships, with the losse of 30000 of their men. Then was France taken or halfe a yeere:the wars a­gaine renewing, King Edward besieged Callice, and [...]ocke it An. 1347: Dauid, King of Scotland was taken priso­ner by one Iohn Copland, an Esquire of the North. At the battell of Potiers, Edward the black Prince of Wales had a glorious victory, for there hee [...]ocke, King Iohn of France, with his Sonne Phillip the Dolphin prisoners. There were slaine of the French. 52 Neblemen, 1700 Knights and Esquires, and 600 Common men. 100 Ensignes and many men of note taken prisoners, Dauid, King of Scots was set at liberty, hauing bin a prisoner 11 yeers, paying 100000 marks st [...]ing. Iohn K. of France, after 4 yeeres imprisonment, set free, paying 1000000 [...]. for his ransome. Finally, neuer was English King more tri­umphant and fortunate, in war, in the fruition of a vertu­ous Queen, 7 sons and daughters, a glorious and lang reign of 50 yeeres, buried at Sheene, Anno Domini, 1378.

RICHARD THE IJ, KING OF ENGLAND, And FRANCE, LORD OF IRELAND, &c.

A Sunshine Morne, precedes a showry day,
A Calme at Sea ofttimes foreruns a storme:
All is not gold that seemes so glistring gay;
Foule Vice is fairest features Canker-worme,
So I that was of blood, descent and forme,
The perfect image of a Royall Stock,
Vnseason'd young aduice did me deforme,
Split all my hopes against despaires blacke rock,
My Regall name and power was made a mock,
My Subiects madly in rebellion rose,
Mischiefe on mischiefe all in troopes did flock,
Oppos'd, depos'd, expos'd, inclos'd in woes,
With wauering fortunes troublously I raing'd,
Slaine by soule mur ther, peace and rest I gain'd.

Anno Dom. 1377 June 21 Sunday.

Richard the second borne as Burdeux, the [...] nate Grandebilde, and son of the two [...] and Paragons of Armes and all Noble vertues, Edward the third, and his euer-famous sonne Edward the [...] Prince, was crowned at Westminster by the [...] mond Sudbury Archbishop of Canterbury, the K [...] being but 11 yeeres old. The glory of the English N [...] was in a continual Eclips the most part of this K [...]g [...] his youth with all the frailties incident vn [...], with [...] gouernours both of his Kingdome and person, [...] main Ruines of the King & almost the Realm The [...] of his fortunes after his Coronation was, that 50 French ships landed at Rye in Suffex, who burnt and spoyled the Towne, and diuers other parts of the kingdome; and [...] Alexander Ramsey, (a valiant Scottish Gentlemen) with but 40 men withhim, tooke the Castle of Barwicke, which the Earle of Northūberland man from him [...] with a great number. The French did so far preuaile [...] they came to Granesend, and burnt and rifled it: T [...] Comment arose in rebellion in diuers places, as Kent, [...] sex, Surrie, Suffolk, Norfolk, Cambridge, the K [...] men (being 50000) came to London, where the [...] cammitted many outrages, vnder the cemman [...] of [...] solent rebels, Wat Tyler, and Iack Sraw, who [...] mated to that mischief by one Iohn Ball: an [...] priest) but Tyler was killed by the famous Sir William Walworth Lord Maior of London, the rebele dispe [...], Iack Staw and Ball the Priest extented, the Com [...] pardoned, and all at peace for a short time: These Bascalls had beheaded Sinon Tibald Archbishop of Canterbury [...] and Sir Robert Hales Lord Treasurer of England [...] burnt and spoylea the Sahoy, the like they had [...] Lanibeth, destroying all the Rowles and Record of [...] Chancerie. Iohn of Gaunt Duke of Lancaster, the King vnckle, was accused for Treason by a Carmilite Fryer [...] the Fryer was cruelly murdered and the Duke (suspici [...] cleared. Barwick was wonne againe by the Scots, [...] againe recouered by the Earle of Northumberland. The French prepare a great Nauy and Army, purpa [...] inuade England; King Richard raiseth a [...] intending to conquer Scotland, all which desig [...] neither good or profitable euents. 1386 mischiefe and [...] serie (hauing sate long abroad) began to batch, the [...] insulting on the one side, and the people rebellious [...] other, did Bandy the regall power in to hazard. The Scott enter England vnder the command of the va­liant Sir William Dowglasse, and are met and [...] tred by the Right Noble Lord, Henry Hotspurre: Dow­glasle was staine, and Hotspur taking Ireland: rebel'd the King went thither in person, and lest England, the whilest he bring forced to surrender himselfe, but Crow [...] and kingdome to his kinsman. Henry Bullingbrooke, Son to Iohn of Gaunt Duke of Lancaster, 1400.

HENRY THE IV, KING OF ENGLAND, And FRANCE, LORD OF IRELAND, &c.

FRom right (wrong-doing) Richard I did wrest
His Crowne mis-guided, but on me mis-plac'd:
Vnciuill Ciuill warres my Realme molest,
And English men did England spoyle and wast.
The Sire, the Son, the Son the Father chas'd,
Vndutifull, vnkind, vnnaturall,
Both Yorke and Lancaster were rais'd and rac'd,
As Conquest did to either Faction fall.
But still I grip'd the Scepter and the Ball,
And what by wrong I won, by might I wore:
For Prince of Wales I did my Son install,
But as my Martiall Fame grew more and more,
By fatall Fate my vitall threed was cut:
And all my Greatnesse in a graue was put.

Anno Dom. 1399, September 19, Munday.

Crownes misplaced on vnrightfull heads, are com­monly lined with perdurable cares and vexation, as appeared in the lines and raignes of Rusus, Henry the first, Stehpen, Iohn; and now this King Henry the fourth, who (though hee were minion of Fortune, the Darling of the peolpe, & euery way a compleate Noble Prince; yet was his vsurpa­tion still attended with dangerous molestations; he was crowned at Westminster by Thomas Arun­dell Arbhishop of Canterbury; hee was scarce warme in his seat, before the Dukes of Exeter, Aumerie & Surry, with the Earles of Glocester and Salisbury conspired to kill him, and to raise King Richard againe; but their plot was discouered and satisfied with the losse of there heads. shortly after, king Richard the 2 was starued to death some say murdred) at Pomfret castle. in short time after the Princes of English poets, Ieffry Chaucer and Iohn Cower dyed; all those Noble men, who either fouored king Richard, or were raised by him, were degraded, disinherited, or out of King or courrtly fav­our. The French in Aquitaine, intend rebellion a­gainst K. Henry, but are pacified by Tho: Percy, Earle of Worcester. The Welsh rebell (vnder the cōmand of their captine, Owne Glendowre, and the king went thither in person, and with losse and danger quieted them, An. 1403 the terrible battel of Shrewsbury was fought betwixt the King and the Earle of Worcester, the Earle Dowglasse, the Lord Henry Percy (alias) Hotspur, and others, where after a bloody triall, Percy was slain, buried, taken vp againe and quartered: the Earle of Wor­cester was beheaded, the Dowglasse taken, and the King victorious. Owen Glendowere again raiseth wars in Wales, and inuades the Marches of Eng­land: & although king Richard the 2 be dead and buried, yet is he still sained to be aliue, and by coun­terfeit impostures, King Henry was much molested 140 ships came out of France, arriued at Milford hauen, to the aid of Owen Glendowre; the Earle of Northumberland rebelled with the Lord Bar­dolph, and were both taken & beheaded. Thus was king Henries reigne, a Maiesticall missery, a soue­raignty of sorrow, and a regall power alwaies attended with perplexity; so that hauing raign'd 13 yeers 6 months wanting 5 daies, he dyed the 20 of March 1413, and leauing 4 sonnes, 2 daughters, he was with all funerall and Royall solemnity interred at Canterbury.

HENRY THE FIFTH, KING OF ENGLAND, And FRANCE, LORD OF IRELAND.

FRom my Iancastrian Sire successiuely,
I Englands glorious golden Garland gots
I temper'd Iustice with mild clemency,
Much blood I shed, yet blood-shed loued not,
Time my Sepulchre and my bones may not,
But Time can neuer end my endlesse fame.
Oblinion cannot my braue acts out blot,
Or make Forgetfulnesse forget my name.
I plaid all France at Tennise such a game,
With roaring Rackets, bandied Balls and Foyles:
And what I plaid for, still I won te same,.
Triumphantly transporting home the spoyles.
But in the end grim death my life assail'd,
And as I lin'd, I dy'd, belon'd, bewail'd.

Anno Dom. 1413. March 20, Sunday.

Henry the 5, borne at Monmouth in Wales, about 28 yeeres old when he began to reigne, he was crowned at Westminster by the hands of Thomas Arundell Archbishop of Canterbury: and how­soeuer some Writers haue imputed wildnesse and ir­regular courses so youth vnto him; yet when hee at­tained the Scepter, he proued the mirror of Princes, and Paragon of the world (in that age:) He banished from his Court and presence all prophane and lewd companions, and exiled from his eares, all flattring Parasites and Sicophants. In the 1 yeer of his reigne, he prepared a great Armie against France, an [...] Southampton (very happily) escaped murthering by the Treason of Richard, Earle of Cambridge, Henry, Lord Scroope, and Sir Thomas Gray Knight. Soone after, the King past with 1500 sail into France, where hee wanne the strong Tow [...] Hatflew, and intending to march back with his [...] my toward Callice, he was neere a place called A­gincourt, encountrea by the whole power of France, where King Henry had a triumphant victories in which battel were slaine many of the French Nobility, with 10000 cōmon soldiers, & as many of them taken prisoners. The whole English Army (at that time) being not 10000, being wasted with the fluxe, famine, and other sicknesses, yet did they [...] more prisoners then they were themselues in number, & in all the battel lost not aboue 28 mē. After which the King returned into England, and [...] was met with 400 Citizens, and magnificantly [...] tertained into London. King Henry attributing all his conquests and victories to God. The E [...] Sigismond came into England, and entred leag [...] with King Henry; the Emperors intent was to [...] made a peace betwixt England, & France; but he could not accōplish it. The king passed into I ra [...] againe, and wonne many Cities, Townes, C [...] strong holds: in the end he married the Lady Kathe­rin daughter to K. Charles of France, with when he came into England, and hauing crowned [...] Queene, be returned into I rance the third [...] was in Paris proclaimed heire apparent to the Crowne. Finally, he sickened and dyed at Boyses [...] Vincennois in France from whence his corps [...] brought and buried at Westminster, I Septem­ber, 1422.

HENRY THE VI, KING OF ENGLAND, And FRANCE, LORD OF JRELAND.

GReat England Mars (my Father being dead)
I, not of yeares, or yeare; but eight months old:
The Diadem was plac't vpon my head,
In Royall Robes the Scepter I did hold:
But as th' Almighties workes are manifold,
Too high for mans conceit to comprehend:
In his eternall Register eurold
My Birth, my troublous Life and tragicke End.
[...] Gainst me the house of Yorke their force did bend,
And Peeres and People weltred in their gore:
My Crown and Kingdome they from me did rend,
Which I, my Sire, and Grandire kept and wore.
Twice was I crown'd vncrown'd oft blest, oft crost,
And lastly, murdred, life and Kingdome lost.

Anno Dom. 1422, August 31, Munday.

Henry the 6 born at Windsor, (the son of Hen­ry the 5) was but 8 moneths old at the death of his father; so that by reason of his infancy, himselfe and kingdome were gouerned by his vnckles, the Dukes of Bedford and Glocester, An. 1419 Nouember 6, the King was crowned first at Westminster by the hands of Henry Chichley Archbishop of Can­terbury: hee was againe the second time crowned at Paris, the 7 of December 1431, by the Cardinalls, of York and Winchesters and returns into Eng­land the 11 day of February following. In these times France was in miserable perplexity, diuided betwixt French and English in continuall bloody wars, for the Dolphin Charles, made wars in sun­dry places; claiming the Crowne; & the English won and lost towns and territories, as fortune found or fround, till at last, by reason of the King: childhood in the beginning of his reigne, his soft, milde, & gen­tle inclination in his ripe yeeres, and his indispositi­on to marshall affaires (hee beeing more sit for the Church thē for chinalry, for praier thē for prowesse, a man in al his actions more like a Saint, then to one that should weild a warlike sword or Royall Scepter; being a most vnfortunate Prince in all his worldly attempts: the Peers (in England) bandied factions against each other: the Duke of York claimed the Crowne, the cōmons of Kent (vnder the leading of their captiain) lack Cade, being in number 50000, came to London: the Rebels murdered the Bishop of Sali bury, and beheaded the Lord Say at the stan­dard in Cheape the King was taken prisoner by the Duke of Yorke at the bartell of Saint Albans. the French with 15000 men landed at Sandwich, spoy­led the Towne & fierd it stew the Maior with all in authority there, and likewise hauing burnt and pil­laged many other places in De [...]on [...]shire and the West, they departed, Queene Margaret the wife to King Henry the 6, met the Duke of Yorke with an Ar­my, neere Wakefield, where the victory, fell to the Queen, the Duke being slaine with his son the Earle of Rutland, and many others. Thus for the space of 60 yeeres, the three Kings Henries, the 4,5, and 6, kept the Crowne in the Lancastrian line: the house of Yorke got the soueraignty: King Henry hauing reign'd 38 yeers, [...] months & 4 daies he was ouercome by King Edward, at a place called Mor­timers Crosse neere Ludlow, more of this vnfortu­nate Prince shall be spoken in the reigne of the next King Edward.

EDWARD THE IIIJ, KING OF ENGLAND, And FRANCE, LORD OF IRELAND, &c.

I Yorkes great heire (by fell domesticke Warre)
Inthroaned was, vn-King'd, and re-inthroan'd:
Subiecting quite the house of Lancaster,
Whilst wofull England ouer-burthen'd, groan'd:
Old Sonlesse Sires, and Childlesse Mothers moan'd,
These bloody broyles had lasted three score yeares,
And till the time we were in peace attoan'd,
It walked fourescore of the Royale Peeres:
But age and time all earthly things out-weares,
Through terrours, horrors, mischiefe and debate,
By trult, by treason, by hopes, doubts and feares,
I got, I kept, I left and Lost the State.
Thus as disposing heauens doe smile or frowne,
So Cares or Comforts wait vpon a Crowne.

Edward the fourth was Earle of March, some and heire to Richard, Duke of Yorke, sonne to Richard Earl of Cambridge, s [...]nto Edmund of langley; [...] of York, 4 sento Edward the 3, King of England. This King (Edward the fourth) Was borne at Roane is Nor­mandy: and in the yeere 1461, the 29 of Iune, hee [...] crowned at Westminister, by the hands of Thomas Bourgchier, Arcbishop of Canterbury. Henry the fixt, hauing a great power in the Nor [...], was [...] and encountred by King Edward neere Towton on Palms­sunday, where bet [...]xt the two Kings was fought a [...] battell which continued ten houers, in which cruell con­flict, the English ground dranke the sangkired [...] of [...] 37000 of her naturall englishmen: after, [...] [...] [...] as Hexam by the Lord Montracute, King Henry was again put to fight with great lesse be was afterward [...] disquid'd & [...]isoned [...] the Towre of London. Edward new supposed all was well, his minde was on m [...]ruj [...], wherefore he sent Richard Neuill, (The great King [...] ker Ex [...]le of Warwich) into France, so treate forth Lady Bona (sister to the French Quene) but with meane space King Edward prou [...]ed himselfe man home, and was married to the Lady Elizabeth Gray [...] match was so deslatefull to Warwick that hee [...] fals aff from King Edward; after which, he took the King Prisoner, but he escaping againe, fled beyend the Saw. The Earle of Warwick tooke King Henry out of the T [...]nt, and caused him againe to be crowned: King Edward landed agains in England at Bornet s [...]ld (tra [...] London) his Army was met by the Earles of Warwick and Oxford,(King Henry being them againe [...] [...] s [...]er) where was fought a fierce battell, where Edward was Vector: the Earle of Warwicke with [...] N [...] men were slaint [...] and comment on eath sides 10000 King Henry was againe committed to the Tonre: Edward Prince of Wales, the son of Henry the first was [...] the battel of Tewxbury, & murdred by Richard, [...] of Gloecether: Soon after the bastard Lord [...] vaised an Army of 17000 men against King Edward but the bastard was soons supprest and the most [...] King Edward the fixt freed from his long [...] being murdred by the bloody hands of Richard, [...] of Glocester. The King b [...]ing (through must [...]) [...] peacs, [...] himselfe [...] [...] Iane Shore, (his Combine [...] pleasures were mixed with greife for his [...] George, Duke of Clarence, who was [...] of Malmsey the Towre of London 1475. [...] of Scotland, threatned was against England; Richard, Duke of Glocester was some against the Scots, [...] [...] king Edward [...], haning [...] Aprill 9, 1483, [...] at Windsor

EDWARD THE V, KING OF ENGLAND AND FRANCE, LORD OF IRELAND

IF birth, if beauty, innocence and youth,
Could make a Tyrant feele one sparke of grace,
My crooked Vncle had beene mou'd to ruth,
Beholding of my pitty-pleading face.
But what auailes to spring from roy all Race?
What suerty is in beauty, strength, or wit?
What is command, might, eminence and place,
When Treason lurkes where Maiesty doth sit?
My haplesse selfe had true false proofe of it:
Nipt in my bud, and blasted in my bloome:
Depr [...]'d of life by murther, most vnfit
And for three Kingdoms could not haue one tombe:
Thus Treason all my glory ouer-topt,
And [...] the Fruit could spring, the Tree was lop't.

Edward the fifth, borne in the Sanctuary at West­minster, Sonne of King Edward the fourth, beganne his short reigne ouer the Real [...] of England, at the age of [...]3 yeeres; but [...]y the cunning dealing of Richard, 'Duke of Gloucester (his vnnaturall Vnckle.) he was neuer crow­ned. [...] young King, with his younger brother Richard Duke of Yorke, was at London with his mother, and in the guidance of his Vnckle by the mothers side, named Sir Anthony Wooduill Lord Riuers; but by the [...] and crafty dealing of the Duke of Glouster, all the Queene kindred were remoued from the King, and the Lord, Riuers sent from Northampton to Pomfret with others, whence they were imprisoned and beheaded. The protector (Richard) hauing the King in his keeping and power, his onely [...]yn [...] was next, how to get into his hands [...] person of Richard Duke of Yorke (the Kings brother) whom the Queene their mother kept close in the Sanctuarie at Westminster, which Prince was got­ten from the said Sanctuary by the [...] till plots and per­swation of the Lord protector, and the Duke of Bucking­ham. The poore innocent Lambs being as it were put in­to the greedy Iawes of the Wolfe (their rauenous Vnckle) for safegard and protection, and at the first approach of Richard, Duke of York, into his Vnckles presence, he was entertained in all seeming reuerence with a Iudas kisse by his Vnckle. The Duke of Buckingham was promised (by the Protector) for his trusty seruices to him, in helo [...] him (to the person of this Prince, and for his future seruices to ayde him in his vnlawsfull attaining the Crowne of Eng­land) that Gloucesters Sonne should be married to Buc­kinghams daughter, and netball, that Buckingham should haue the Earledome of Hertford, with many other golden promises, which were neuer performed, but with the taking of Buckinghams head, (at sha [...] after speci­fied) Now mischiefe beganne to [...]; the Queene was ac­cused of sorcery by the Potector; Hastings Lord Cham­berlaine was beheaded suddenly without either crime or [...] in the Towre. Poore Iane Shore, was also taken and carried to the Towre, her goods to the vallue of 3000 ma [...] kes were seazedon, and confiscate to the vse of the Protector. She was a woman hauing many good parts, and howsoeuer, by the command of King Edward the fourth, and her owne fra [...], shee fell into [...] with the King, [...] she was euer inclined and did much good, and cannot be taxed in Histories for doing any man hurt. The King and his brother were both standred with bastard Duke of Gloucester was proclaimed King, which [...] much modelly he refused, though hee meant with all his [...] to take it, Anno 1483.

RICHARD THE IIJ, KING OF ENGLAND, And FRANCE, LORD OF IRELAND, &c.

AMbition's like vnto quenchlesse thirst:
Ambition Angels threw from Heauen to Hell,
Ambition (that infernall Hag) accurst,
Ambitiously made me aspire, rebell:
Ambition, that damned Necromanticke Spell,
Made me clime proud, with shame to tumble down.
By bloody murther I did all expell,
Whose right, or might, debard me from the Crown.
My smiles, my gifts, my fauours, or my frowne,
Were fain'd, corrupt, vile flattry, death and spite,
By cruell Tyranny I gat renowne,
Till Heau'n iust Iudge me iustly did require.
By blood I won, by blood I lost the throne.
Detested liu'd;dy'd; lou'd, bewail'd of none.

Anno 1483, June 22.

Richard Duke of Glocester, the 3 some of Richard Duke of Yorke, the 3 Duke of Glocester, and third of that name King of England, Is tyranny and vsurpation, griped the Scepter of the kingdome; after hee he had proclaimed his Nephewes Bastardy, his brother (the deceased) King Edward the fourths scandall, and accused his own mother of adultry, making his way to the Regality, by the mur­ther of his two innocent Nephewes: which murther was committed by the bands of Sir Iames Tir­rell Knight, and one Myles Forrest, and Iohn Dighton, which villains murthered then in their bed, and buried them beneath a paire of staires vn­der an heape of stones, in the Towne, and in that led­ging which (in memory of that blanke deed) is first named the bloody Towre; their bodies were taken: [...] and againe buried obscurely, no man knoweswhere. By these means hauing gotten the Goale, God [...] ­red his reigne to be his perpetuall sormens, [...] without, and continuall horrory within; the mur­therers had part of their payment in this world for Myles Fo [...]rest [...]otted aboue ground peece meale in S t Martins; Str Iames Tirrell was executed for treason on the Towre-hill; Dighton liu'd a hat­ted miscreant both of God and man: the Duke of Buckingham (though innocent of dthe murther) yet hee suppresse the young Princes, and raised the Ty­rant, and his end was the losse of his head at Salisbury. Shortly after, the Diuine iustice began to fall heauy vpon King Richard, many of the Nobility and Gentrie for sooke him, and fled into Britaine in France to Henry, Earle of Richmond, who was the onely heyre to the English crowne (of the Line of the house of Lancaster.) king Richard, in the dangers would haue procured a most wicked safety by marr [...]ing the Lady Elizabeth, eldest daughter is his deceased brother, King Edward the fourth, the only inheritix of the house of York, & lawfull heyre to the Crowne; but Gods prouidence and the La­dies vertue with stood that incestuous match; short­ly after Henry of Richmond arriued at Milford hauen in Wales, where his Army encreasing, met Richard at Redmere field, neere Posworth, se­uen miles from Leicester, where Richard vah­autly fighting was slaine, 1485, August 23, and was buried at Leycester.

HENRY THE VIJ, KING OF ENGLAND And FRANCE, LORD OF IRELAND.

[...]Was the man (by Gods high grace assign'd)
[...]That for this restlesse Kingdome purchas'd rest:
[...]ork and Lancaster in one combin'd,
[...] sundred had each other long opprest,
[...] strength and policy th'Almighty blest.
[...] good successe from first vnto the last:
[...] high [...]houab turned to the best,
[...] orld of perills which my youth o're past.
[...] white and red Rose I conioyned fast,
[...]sacred Marriages coniugall band:
[...]ytors tam'd, and treason stood agast
[...] strong guarded by my Makers hand.
[...]nglory and magnificence I raign'd,
And, fame, loue, and a tombe was all I gain'd.

Anno Dom. 1485, August 22, Monday.

Henry (of that name the seuenth) King of England, was Earle of Richmond, borne in Pembroke-Castle in Wales, sonne of Edmund of Hadham Earle of Rich­mond, Sonne of Owen Theodore, and Queene Kathe­rin, the French King daughter, late wife to King Hen­ry the sist; was crowned at Westminster, the 30 day of October by the bands of Thomas, Bourghchier Arch­bishop of Conterbury; this Prince was wise, valsant, and fortunate. Through many perals & hazards he had past his life, and attained the Royalty of Englands throne, and with much prudence and mu [...]ble fortitude be gouerned this Land, Maugre many dangerous attempts and treache­rom consp [...]acses plott [...] against hun; and his designes had such ausptcsous euents, thus still hee was victori [...] ouer surre [...]gne, cuall, and [...] troubles. One Lam­best Simnei (a Bakers sonne) claimed the crowns, coun­tersetting in [...]else to be Edward, Earle of Warwicke, sonne of George Duke of Clarence. Some write that. [...]e assumed to bee one of king Edward, the fourthes sonne, which was murthered in the Toure: (howsoeuer) Hambert gat into Ireland, and in Christ Church: in Dublin, was crowned King of England and Ireland; hee with an Armie landed at Fowdrey in Lancashire, but King Henry met him, and at the battell of Stoke, he took him prisoner, pardon'd him his life, and gaue him a turn­spits place in his kitchen, and after maue him one of his saulkners. Lambert was net long supprest, but another of his stamp supphes his roome of a rebellious imposture; Pe­ter, or Perkin Warbecke, (the sonne of a Iew) borne in Torney, claimed the Crowne, by the counterfest stile of Richard, Second sonne to King Edward the fourth, Per­kin gat into England, and after into Scotland, where [...] preuailed, that he was married to the Lady Ka­therin Gordon, (the Earle of Huntleys daughters) K. Iames, the fourths kinsnman; the rebels in Kent were o­uen thwone, and their Captante the Lord Audley taken and beheaded. Perkin came out of Scotland, and moues the [...] men to ayae him. King Henry net, ouercame and [...], and pardon' him another counterfest, a shoe­makers son, named Ralph Milford, [...] the Crowne, and purchast'd a balter. Perkin Warback Sica from the King, and againe was taken and executed as Tyburnc. King Henry gaue his daughter the Lady Margaret in [...] to Iames [...]e fourth King of Scotland; Arthur (Prince of Wales) the eldest Sonne of Henry Married with the Lady Katherin, daughter to the King of Spaine; but the Prince dyed [...] after. The King gathered a [...] masse of money, to the general grieuance of the subiects; he had three font, Arthur Henry, & Edmund, and foure daughters, Margaret, Elizabeth, Mary, and Katherin: reigned 23 yeeres 8 moneths, dyed at Rich­mond, buried at Westminster in the most [...] Chappell of his owne building, 1508.

HENRY THE VIIJ, KING OF ENGLAND, And FRANCE, LORD OF IRELAND

TO both the Royall Houses I was Heyre;
I made but one, of long contending, twaine:
This realme diuided drooping in despaire,
I did rebind in my auspicious Raigne.
I banisht Romish Vsurpation vaine.
In France I Bullen, Turwin, Turney Wan:
The Stile of Faiths Defender I did gaine.
Sixe wiues I had, three An's, two Kates, one lane,
In my expences Royall, beyond measure,
Striuing in Noble Actions to exceede;
Accounting Honour as my greatest Treasure:
Yet various fancies did my frailty feede,
I made and marr'd, I did, and I vndid,
Till all my Greatnesse in Graue was hid.

Anno Dom. 1509, Aprill 22, Sunday.

Henry the eight, with his beautcous queen ( [...] ­dy Catherin) who had bin before the wife of his [...] borhter, Prince Arthur, on Sunday the 25 of Iune were both crowned King & Queen of England [...] minster, by the bvnds of William Warham, [...] bishop of Canterbury: He entre France wish as and was the strong Towns of Terwin and Tumay [...] valiant King, lames the sourth of scotland, [...] land with a great Host, and was met and sought [...] by the Noble Lord, Thomas Howard, Earle [...] and at a place called Flodden in Northumber king lames vailiantly fighting, was [...] Bishops, 2 Abbots, 12 Earles, 17 Lords and [...] common Soldiers: Thomas Wolsey (from mea [...]) some say the sonne of a Butcher in Ipswich, by [...] mounted to the tope Fortunes wheel [...] to be a scholem after next a seruant to the Treas [...] Callis, 3 to be one of the Kings chaplainer, 4 the [...] Almoner, 5 he was made Deane of Linco [...]e, 6 [...] chosen for priuy Councellour, 7 be was [...] shop of Tornay. 8 after that, Archbishops of Yorke, [...] ated Cardinall, 10 ne was Lord Chancellor, 11 [...] all these boneurs at once, with the Bishoprick of [...] ster, Worcester, Bathe, Heresord, [...] Saint Albans: Lastly, all these [...] which in many yeeres hee attained, were in a [...] the kings displeasure, and his own: [...] lost. The King had the Title of Defender of the [...] from Rome: neuer was any King of England [...] nificent, hee was visited three times by the [...] and one of them (Maximillian) serued [...] [...] warres in France: the other, Charles, [...] England; so likewise did the King of Denmarke [...] Queene who all were most Royalty entertained: King Henry, wa [...]he first of the English King [...] ­tuled [...] himselfe, King of Ireland. In the [...] Citie of Rome was taken by the French, Clement with 23 cardinak [...] imprisoned [...] moneths: King Henry and thepope fell at [...] that the King caused [...] all [...] obedience to [...] den, and in the tempest of histurie seased [...] power in These his Dominiens ( [...]) to him [...] Land hauing too long borne the [...] of Antichristian Tyramny: for the which [...] King caused to bee suppressed in England and 283 [...] 215 Pr [...]ries, 108 [...] [...] 84 colleages, 9 cells, and 103 Hospitals Henry reigned 37 years, 9 moneths and [...] 28 of January 1546, buried at Windsor.

EDWARD THE VI KING OF ENGLAND, FRANCE and IRELAND, Desender of the Faith, &c.

[...] Seem'd in wisedome aged in my youth,
[...] A Princly patterne, I reform'd the time:
[...] With zeale and courage I maintain'd Gods truth,
[...]d Christian faith 'gainst Antichristian crime.
[...] Father did begin; l [...]in my prime,
[...]h Baal and Beltall from this Kingdome droue,
With concords true harmonious heauenly chime,
[...]'d be said and sung Gods truth and loue.
[...] vertue vnto vertue still I stroue,
[...]'d beloued both of God and men:
[...]y soule vnto her Maker soar'd aboue,
[...]y earthly part return'd to earth agen.
Thus Death, my faire proceedings did preuent,
And Peeres and People did my loffe lament.

Anno Dom. 1546, Ianuary 28, Thursday:

Edward the 6, borne at Hampton Court, the only son and Heire to King Henry the 8, at 9 yeers of age began his reigne ouer this kingdome: hee was crowned the 27 day of February 1547 at Westminster, by the hands of Tho­mas Cranmer Arcbishop of Canterbury: his vnkle by the mother side, Edward Earle of Hestford, and Duke of Somerset, was gouernomy of his person and kingdome. This King was a second losias, inreforming many errors on the Church; he was contracted to the Lady Mary (this young Queene of Scotland) daughter and sole beyre to King Iames the fi [...]t, mother to our late King Iames de­ceased, and Grandmother to our gracious Someraigne King Charles, now reigning: but some [...] spirits brake of the match, which caused much blood shed: for the Duke of Somerset entred Scotland with a strong Army; whom the Scottish Nobit [...] with their powers met at a place neere Musklebrough, where was sought a fierce and sharpe battell, where many men at [...] on both sides; but in the end, the victory tell to be English: us the meane space, the young Queene was conveyed into France, where afterward she [...] the Dolphin. Rebel­lion in Cornewall, commotion in: Norfolke descention in many places: and lastly, in the Northren parts of Eng­land; some striu [...]ng to bold vp the rotten fragments of Romish Religion; some seeking lawlesse liberty to haue all things in command, to lay open all enclosures, so that much mischief was done, and at last ended with executions of the slaughter, and executions of many of the Rebels, in diuers places of this Las [...]i. Malice and mischiefe had no sooner done amongst the Commons, but they thrust them­selues amongst the Nobilsty. The Lord Protector pro­cured or tollerated his brother, the Lord Thomas Sei­mer, to be beheaded; and shortly after himselfe followed the same way, whose death was much bewailed by the poore Commons: and the King neuer ha [...] he heath or ioy after the deathes of both his Vnkles. This hopefull France was endued with wisdom, farre about his yeeres, he was tear­ned and a louer of learning, he was exceedingly delighted in reading the Scriptures: he was iust, merestull, [...]ing, and beloued: hee ended his late at Greenwich fifth day of Iuly, Anno 1552, in the fix entbyeere at his age. when he had reigned sixe yeeres, nine months, eight dayes, He was buried at westminster.

MARY, QVEENE OF ENGLAND, FRANCE and IRELAND, Desender of the Faith, &c.

NO sooner I possest the Royall Throne,
But true Religion straight was dispossest:
Bad Councell caus'd Rome, Spaine and I, as one,
To persecute, to martyr, and molest
All that the vnstain'd truth of God profest:
All such as dar'd oppugne the pow'rfull Pope,
With grieuous tortures were opprest and prest,
With Axes, Pire, and Faggot, and the Rope.
Scarce any Land beneath the Heauenly Cope,
Afflicted was, as I caus'd this to bee:
And when my Fortunes were in highest hope,
Death at the fiue yeeres end arrested mee.
No Bale would serue, I could command no ayd,
But I in prison in my graue was laid.

Anno. Dom. 1553, Iuly 6, Thursday.

Queene Mary was borne at Creenwich, elder daugh­ter to King Henry the eight, and sister and [...] to King Edward the sixt. Shee was crowned at Westminster the first of October, 1553, by the hands of Stephen Gardner, Bishop of Winchester. King Edward being dead, his death was concealed two daies, by reason of the feare of Queene Maries alteration of the religion which King Edward had established, for which cause the Lady Iane was by many of the Lords and the Londoners pro­claimed Queene. This Lady Iane was eldest daughter to Henry Duke of Suffolke; shee was then married to the Lord Guiford Dudlty fourth sonne to Iohn, Duke of, Northumberland; her mother was the Lady Francis, the daughter of Mary the French Queene. and the youn­ger sister of King Henry the 8. Queene Mary ( bearing that Iane was proclaim'd Queen) begain to rowse, & raised an Army, and was first proclaimed in the City of Nor­wich, her powers still increasing, she made towards Lon­don, where all supplies forsocke the Lady Iane; so that she with her husband and father, and the Lord Thomas Gray, with others, were beheaded. The Queene ceases all the protestant Bishops and Clergie to bee degraded suspended, or imprisoned. She raised againe the Mase, and with it masse of misery to this kingdome. King Phi­lip of Spaine was contracted to Queene Mary, but Sir Thomas Wiat with an Armie opposed it, and after much bickering was taken and executed on the Towre [...]: The Lady Elizabeth ( the Queenes sister) was wrong [...] ­ly imprisoned, and in danger to be put to death: Philip King of Spaine was married to Queene Mary with [...] Royall solemnity at Winchester the 25 of Iuly, Anno 1454. This wofull Land was in those daies a very Achet­dima, or field of blood, the Popes M [...]reban [...]s [...] Church and Commonwealth with holy Water, Pax, Cen­sors, Oyle, Spittle Creame, Altars, Pictures, Images [...] Crosses, Crucifixes, Beades, Lights, Tapers, Cand [...] the Breaden god: these Romish warres did cost the li [...]es neere 6000 people that refused them, some hanged, [...] burne, and diuers others suffering other deaths and [...] ­ties. K. Philip & Queen Mary send defiance into France Philip went thither in person, & besieged the strong [...] of S t. Quintins and man it; but shortly after, the English men lost Callice, which had beene the King of English Towne 21 yeeres. Wherefore Queene Mary tooke [...] griefe, that she [...] neuer enioyed her life-long after; [...] Callice was lost the 17 of Ianuary, and the Queene [...] at Saint Iames house the 7 of Nouember following, [...] 1558, when she had reigned 5 yeeres, 4 moneth [...] [...] daies: she lieth buried as Westminster.

ELIZABETH, QVEENE OF ENGLAND, FRANCE and IRELAND, Defender of the Faith, &c.

THe griefes, the feares, the terrors and the toiles,
The sleights, tricks snares, that for my life were laid
[...]pes prisons, poysons, pistois, bloody broyles,
[...] these incompast me (poore harmelesse Mayd)
[...] I still trusting in my Makers ayde,
Was still defended by his power diuine:
[...]y glory and my greatnesse was displai'd
[...] farre as Sunne and Moone did euer shine.
Gods mingled Seruice I did re-refine,
From Romish rubbish, and from humane drosse.
[...] yearely made the pride of Spaine decline:
[...] and all Belgia I sau'd from losse:
I was Arts patterne, t' Armes I was a Patron;
I liu'd and dyed a Queene, a Maid, a Matron.

Anno Dom. 1558, Nouember 17, Thursday.

Lady Elizabeth, borne at Greenwich, second daugh­ter to King Henry the eight, sister and heire to the late Queene Mary, after shee had (by Gods gracious proui­ence past through many afflictions, as scandals, calumna­tions, sundry imprisonns [...], and hazard of her life; shee was at the age of 25 yeeres and od dayes, crowned Queen of England, France and Ireland, at Westminster, by the hand of Owen Oglethorpe Bishop of Carlielc, the 13 of Ianuary. The first good worke of hers (after her coronation) was to reforme and restore and Seruice of God to the Primitiue sincerity, and prayer: and preaching to be vsed in the English tongue: she caused all the bables of Babek, and all the Romish rubbish to bee cast out of the Church, shee dismissed those Bishops and others of the Clergie as would not be reformed. She caused all base mo­mes and coyneste to be supprest, and to be no vallue, and in their stead she ordained that no coyne but Gold and Sil­uer shou [...] passe for current in her Dominions. The French King Henry at a [...]l [...]ng was vnfortunately slaine by a Lord named Mountgomery, [...]inter of the l [...]nce running into his eye, An. 1559. Sorne after the French molest Scotland, but by Queene Elizabeths [...]yde they were expulsed. The Noble Earle of Arraw in Scotland, and Ericus King of Sweaden were suuer [...] to marry [...] the Queene, which her Maiesty with all princely modesty refused. She was after sued to by Henry Duke of Aniou, brother to the French King Charles the 9. Anno 1514. The bloody massaker was in France, where in the City of Paris, (only) 10000 Protestarts were m [...]n thered by the Pepists; The Irish fell to rebellian vnder the Earle of Tirone, which rebellion put England to much cost and trouble. Henry, Lord Darneley, King of Scots most in­humanely murdred, Anno 1568, and his Queen. (Mary) assaulted by the oppression of her rebellicus Subiects came into England, and was royally welcomed. One Thomas Appletree discharging his [...]ce the Queene was in her Barge vpon the Thames, the bullet ranne thorow both the Armes of one of her Watermen; but the Queene vnder­standing that the shot was by casualtie, pardoned the of­fender. Her mercie, iustice, temperance, fortitude, magna­nimity, prudence, learning, and incomparable wisedome would each of them fill a volume; So that neither [...] vnablenesse of me the writer, nor the briefnesse which I am [...] to in thus abstract, can no waies touch the [...]em of her vertues: wherefore I refer the reader to the great volumes of Hollinsheds story, the Reuerend learned Cambden, Master speed, and others, who haue writen more largely of her (though all of them are much short of her vnimmi­table merits) shee ayed the 24 of March 1602 aged 69 y [...]eeres, 6 moneths and 7 dayes, she reigned 44 yeeres, [...]4 months and 7 daies. On the 28 of Aprill after, shee was buried at Westminster.

IAMES, Of that Name THE FIRST, And I. Monarch of the whole Iland of GREAT BRITAINE &c.

WEre all the flatt'ry of the world in me,
Great King of hearts & Arts, great Britaines King
Yet all that flattery could not flatter thee:
Or adde to thy renowne the smallest thing.
My Muse (with truth and freedome) dares to sing,
Thou wert a Monarch lou'd of God and Men.
Two famous Kingdomes thou to one didst bring,
And gau'st lost Britaines name her name agen.
Thou cansedst Doctors with their learned pen,
The sacred Bible newly to translate.
Thy wisdome found the damned powder'd Den,
That hell had hatcht to ouerthrow thy state.
And all the world thv Motto must allow,
The peace makers are blast; and so art thou.

Anno Dom. 1602, March 24, Thursday,

Iames the first of that name, King of England, Scot­land, France & Ireland (the first King that was [...] in England since the Norman conquest) at the age 36 yeeres, 9 monethe, and 5 daies, hee was crowned Westminster (with his wife Queene Anne) by the [...] of Iohn Whitguist, Archbishop of Canterbury. The [...] was a conspiracy to surprise the King and insorce him to grant a tolleration of Religion, but the plot was discoue [...] and the offenders were some executed, & some otherwise (by the King elemency) banished, and imprisoned with good competency of meanes allowed them. This king was a King of Peace, and with all victorious; for he did [...] then his predecesser King Henry the 7 th, (who ioyned [...] Roses of Lancaster and Yorke.) But King Iames [...] happily) ioyned kingdomes, vniting England and Scot­land into one glorious Monarchy, by the name and [...] Great Britaine. Anno 1605, Nouember 5, the [...] de-plot of perdition was; but by the mercy of the Almigh­ty [...] (a mis-taken deliuerie of a Letter, and the deepe wise­dome of the King), the horrid Treason was [...] preuented, and the Traitours confounded in their [...] [...]ked deuices. King Iames was so crowned, and [...] that Germany, Polland, Sweaueland, Russia, France, Spaine, Holland, Zealand, the Arch-Duke of Austria the estate and S [...]gmory of Venice: The great Duke of Florence, all these Princes and Potentates did [...] Ambassadors into England, to hold Amity and [...] with King Iames. Amongst Kings he was the [...] mirrour of Learning, the Patterne and Patron of piety [...] pittie, such a sweet and well composed mixture of Iustice and mercy was inuated in his Royall brest: that [...] [...] truth did meet, kisse and combine together, all the [...] his most auspicious reigne: like a second Sallomon gouernment was blest with peace and plenty; so that be [...] iustly be stiled (vnder God) The Peace-maker of [...] Christendome, and the louing father and preseruer of [...] own people, Realmes and Dominions: his life was generally beloued, and his death as much lamented which was [...] of March, being Sunday, there being but 2 daies differ [...] or ods betwixt the accompt of the beginning and ending of his reigne; for he began the 24 of March 1602, [...] the 27 of March 1625. Two Tuesdaies were [...] ­nate to him: for on a Tuesday the 5 of August 1602, [...] escaped a dangerous conspiracy of the Earle Cowries, and on Tuesday the 5 of Nouember, 1605, he (wis [...]h of that could be called his) was preferred from that Great master piece of Satan, the Powder Treason, and as [...] Sa­t [...]rday [...] the 8 of May, 1603, he was receiued within ioy [...] London, so on Saterday the 8 of May 1625, [...] with grise buried at Westminster.

CHARLES Of that Name THE FIRST, And II. Monarch of the whole Iland of GREAT BRITAINE. KING OF ENGLAND, SCOTLAND, FRANCE and IRELAND, Gods im­mediate VICEGERENT., Su­preame HEAD, &c.

[...]strious Off-spring of most glorious Stems,
Our happy hope, our Royall CHARLES the great,
[...] Heyre to foure Rich Diadems,
With gifts of Grace, and Learning high [...]epleat.
[...] thee th'Almighties ayd I doe intreate,
[...] guide and prosper thy proceedings still,
[...] long thou maist suruiue a Prince compleat,
[...] guard the good and to subuert the ill.
[...] when thy [...] determin'd boundlesse will)
Thy mortall part shall made immortall be,
[...] let thy liuing Fame the world full fill,
[...] bles [...]ed famous memory of thee,
And all true Britaines pray to God aboue,
To match thy life and fortune with their loue.

STEWART [...] CHARLES MARIE Anagramma. Christ Arme vs E [...] AT AL,

Though fe [...]ds and men, to [...] should endeuer, (Against their force) AT AL CHRIST ARME VS EVER

Anno. Dom. 1625-March 27. Sunday.

The [...] sall [...] [...] [...] [...] kingdomes hauing [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] full Iames [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] eter­nall; Our Royall Charles the [...] heire of his blessed Fathers Crowne and vertues, [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] Westminster by the hands of the Right Reue­ [...]nd fahter in God, [...] [...] [...] Iohn Williams, [...] new pre­sent Lord Bishop of Lincolne and Deane of West­minister. He is Charles (the first of that name) and second Monarch of great Britaine, [...] [...] [...] [...] Vicegerent, and God is his [...] Se­ueraigne, he is Defender of the True, [...] Apo­tlolicasll and Christian I [...]; and that faith is his shield against all his bedily and ghostly enemies; in the first yeare of his reigne, he married with the il­lustrious and vertuous Princesse Henneretta Ma­ria, daughter to that admired Mirrer and Mars of martiallilis of Henry the 4 th the French King (last of that name) vopn the 22 day of Iune 1625, shee safely arrived [...] [...] in Kent, where the King stay'd till [...] [...] [...] [...] and to both their ioyes, and the [...] of this kingdome he enioyed, and enioyes her. This Noble P [...]ce was borne the 19 th of Nouember, A no 1602 he was second and youngest Sonne to king Iames the [...] of Scotland, and first of that name of England. (Our last [...] Soueraigne) In the yeere 1623 [...] into Spaine priuately and (by Gods gracious assistance) came backe safely from thence the 26 or October, in the some yeere, whose safe re­turne all true hearted Britaines did and doe esteem [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] and happy blessing his elemency, [...] is manifest, his Royall end princely en­ [...] are ample, [...] his same and Magnificenceis [...] sall; The graces and cardinall vertues haue [...] [...] [...] taken [...] their habitatiens in his Heroick and Mag­ [...] brest. [...] may hee with his gracious Queene reigne our these his Dominions, to the glo­ [...] [...] of God, and the good of this famous Iland, with the rest of his Territories, and to the ioy and comfort of his [...] Amen,

ALIVING SADNES INDVTY CONSECRATED TO THE IMMOR­tall memory of our late Deceased all-beloued Soue­raigne LORD the Peerelesse Paragon of Princes, IAMES, King of great Britaine, France and Ireland; who departed this Life at his Manour of Theobalds, on Sunday the 27. of March 1625.

TO THE MOST HIGH AND PVISSENT Prince CHARLES by the Grace of GOD, the first of that name, and second Monarch of the whole Iland of Great BRITAINE. HIS VNDOVBTED ROYALTIES BEING VNITED VN­DER one and the same his most glorious Crowne, the King­domes of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland; Gods Immediate Vice-Gerent; Supreme head of all Persons, and Defender of the true, ancient Christian Faith, in these his Em­pires and Dominions.

MOst Mighty Monarch of this mourning Land,
Vpon the knees of my submissiue mind:
I begge acceptance at your Royall hand,
That my lamenting Muse may fauour finde.
My Gracious Master was so good so kinde,
So iust, so much beloued neere and sarre:
Which generally did Loue, and Duiy binde
From all, and from me in particular.
But as your Maiesty vndoubted are,
The Heire vnto his Vertues and his Crowne:
I pray, that whether Heauen send Peace or Warre,
You likewise may inherit his Renowne.
And as Death strucke his Earthly Glory downe,
Left you in Maiesty, and mourning Chiefe:
Yet through the World apparantly 'tis knowne,
Your Sorrow is an vniuersall Griefe.
Let this recomfort then your Princely heart,
That in this Duty all men beares a part.
Your Maiesties most humble and obedient Subiect and Seruant: IOHN TAYLOR.

A Funerall Elegie vpon King IAMES.

YOu gushing Torrents of my Tearedrown'd eies,
Sad Partners of my hearts Calamities,
Tempestuous sighs, like winds in prison pent,
(Which wanting vent) my grieued soule hath rent,
Deepe wounding grones (companions of vnrest)
Throngs from the bottome of my care-craz'd brest,
You three, continuall fellowes of my mones,
(My brinish teares, sad sighs and pondrous grones)
[...] doe intreate you neuer to depart,
But be the true assistants of my heart,
In this great at sorrow (that my trembling Quill
Describes) which doth our Lād with moarning fill,
Ah Death I could nought thy hunger satisfie,
But thou must glut thy selfe with Maiesty?
Could nothing thy insatiate thirst restraine,
But Royall blood of our Dread Soueraigne?
In this, thy spight exceeds beyond all bounds,
And at one blow, 3. kingdomes fildst with wounds,
When thou that fatall deadly stroake did'st strike,
Tha [...] ( Death) thou playd'st the tyrant- Catholike.
Our griefes are Vniuersall sall, and the Summe
Cast vp, the blow doth wound all Christendome.
But wherefore, Death, doe I on thee exclaime?
Thou cam'st in the Eternall Kings great name,
For as no mortall pow'r can thee preuent,
So thou doest neuer come, but thou art sent.
And now thou cam'st vpon vnwelcome wings,
To our best King, from the blest King of Kings,
To summon him to change his earthly throne,
For an Immortall, and a Heanenly one.
(When men vnthankfull for a good receiu'd,
[...]Ti [...] least that of that good they be bereau'd)
His gouernement both God and men did please,
Except such spirits, as might complaine of Ease,
Repining Passions wearied with much Rest,
The want to be molesled, might molest.
Such men thinke peace a torment, and no trouble
[...] worse then trouble, though it should come double.
[...] speake of such as with our peace were cloyd,
Though w [...] I think might well haue bin imploy'd.
True Britaines wish iust warres to entertaine,
(I meane no aide for Spinola or Spaine)
But time and troubles would not suffer it,
Nor Gods appointment would the same permit.
He is inserutable in all his waies,
And at his pleasure humbleth and will raise,
For patience is a vertue he regardeth,
And in the end with victory rewardeth.
[...]t whither hath my mournefull Muse digrest?
From my beloued Soueraigne Lord decast:
Who was to vs, and we to him, eu'n thus,
Too bad for him, and hee, too good tor vs.
For good men in their deaths, 'tis vnderstood,
They leaue the bad, and goe vnto the good.
This was the cause, why God did take from hence,
This most Religious, Learned, Gracious Prince.
This Paragon of Kings, this matchlesse Mirror,
This Faiths desending Antichristian terror;
This Royall all-beloued King of Hearts,
This Patterne, and this Patron of good Arts,
This cabinet of mercy, Temperance,
Prudence, and Iustice, that doth man aduance.
This Magazine of Pious Clemency,
This fountaine of true Libera [...]t [...].
This minde, where vertue daily did increase,
This Peacefull Seruant to the [...] odo Peace,
This second great Apollo, from who [...]e Raies,
Poore Poetry did winne Immortall Ba [...]es,
From whence the sacred S [...], Treb [...] Trine,
Had life and motion, Influence diuine,
These vertues did adorne his Dia [...]m,
And God in taking him, hath taken them.
Of all which Blessings: (we must needs confesse)
We are depriu'd for our vnworthinesse.
A good man's neuer mist till he be gone,
And then most vaine and fruitlesse is our mone,
But as Heau'ns fauours downe to vs descended:
So if our thankefulnesse had but ascended.
Had we made Conscience of our waies to sinne,
So soone of him we not depriu'd had bin.
Then let vs not lament his losse so much,
But for our owne vnworthinesse was such.
So from th'vnthankefull Iewes, God in his wrath,
Took [...] good Iosias, by vnlook'd for death.
And for our sinnes, our ignorance must know,
We haue procur'd and felt this curelesse blow,
And Christendome, I feare, in losing him,
Is much dismembred, and hath lost [...] limme.
As by the fruit the tree may be exprest,
His workes declar'd his learning manifest,
Whereby his wisdome wan this great renowne,
That second Salomon wore Britaines crowne,
His pen restrain'd the strong, relieu'd the weake,
And graciously he could write, doe and speake.
He had more force and vigor in his words.
Thē neigh' [...]ring Princes could haue in their swords.
France, Denmarke, Poland, Sweden, Germany,
Spaine, Sa [...]oy, Italy, and Musco [...]
Bohemia, and the fruitfull Palatine,
The Swisses, Grisons, and the [...]eltoline,
[Page 324] As farre as euer Sol or Luna shin'd
Beyond the Westerns, or the Easterne Inde.
His counsell, and his fauours were requir'd,
Approu'd, belou'd, applauded and admir'd:
When round about the Nations farre and neere,
With cruell bloody warres infested were;
When Mars with sword and fire, in furious rage,
Spoyl'd & consum'd, not sparing lex or age;
Whilst mothers (with great griese) were childlesse made,
And Sonne 'gainst Sire oppos'd with trenchant blade:
When brother against brother, kinne ' gainst kinne,
Through death and danger did destruction winne.
When murthers mercilesse, and beastly Rapes
These, famine (miseries in sundry Shapes)
While mischiefs thus great kingdomes ouerwhelm,
Our prudent Steeresman held great Britaines helme,
Conducting so this mighty Ship of state,
That Strangers enui'd, and admir'd thereat,
When blessed Peace, with terrour and affright,
Was in a mazed and distracted flight,
By bloody Warre, and in continuall Chase,
Cours'd like a fearefull Hare, from place to place:
Not daring any where to shew her head,
She (happily) into this kingdome fled,
Whom Royall Iames did freely entertaine,
And graciously did keepe her all his reigne.
Whilst other Lands (that for her absence mourne)
With sighs and teares doe with her backe returne.
They finde in losing Her they lost a blesse,
A hundred Townes in France can witnesse this,
Where Warres compulsion, or else composition,
Did force Obedience, Bondage or Submission.
Fields lay vntild, and fruitfull Land lay waste,
And this was scarcely yet full three yeeres past,
Where these vnciuill ciuill warres destroy'd
Princes, Lords, Captaines, men of Note imploy'd,
One hundred sixty seuen, in number all,
And Common people did past number fall.
These wretches (wearied with these home-bred Iars)
Loue Peace, forbeing beaten sore with wars.
Nor doe I heere inueigh against just Armes,
But' gainst vniust, vunaturall Alarmes:
Iust warres are made, to make vniust warres cease,
And in this sort warres are the meanes of Peace.
In all which turmoyles, Britaine was at rest,
No thundring Cannons did our Peace molest.
No churlish Drum, no Rapes, no flattring wounds;
No Trumpets clangor to the Battell sounds,
But euery Subiect here enioy'd his owne,
And did securely reape what they had sowne.
Each man beneath his Fig-tree and his Vine,
In Peace with plenty did both suppe and dine.
O God, how much thy goodnesse doth o'rflow,
Thou hast not dealt with other Nations so!
And all these blessings which from heauen did Spring,
Were by our Soueraignes wisdomes managing:
Gods Steward, both in Office, and in name,
And his account was euermore his aime:
The thought from out his minde did seldome slip,
That once he must giue vp his Steward-ship.
His anger written on weake water was,
His Patience and his Loue were grau'd in Brasse.
His Fury like a wandring Starre soon gone,
His Clemency was like a fixed one.
So that as many lou'd him whilst he liu'd,
More then so many by his Death are grieu'd.
The hand of Heauen was onely his support,
And blest him in the Nobles of his Court,
To whom his Bounty was exprest so Royall,
That he these twenty yeeres found none disloyall;
But as bright Iewels of his Diadem,
They faithfully soru'd him, he honour'd them.
And as in life they were on him relying,
So many of them vshered him in dying.
Richmonds and Linox Duke fiirst led the way,
Next Dorsets spirit forsooke her house of Clay.
Then Linox Duke againe, Duke Lodwicks brother
Was third, and good Southampton fourth and her.
Lord wriothsly next Southamptons Noble sonne,
The race of his mortality did runne.
Next dy'd old Charles, true honor'd Nottingham,
(The Brooch and honor of his house and name)
Braue Belsast next, his vitall threed was spun,
And last, the Noble Marquesse Hambleto [...].
These in the compasse of one yeere went hence,
And led the way to their beloued Prince.
And our deceased Soueraigne quickely went,
To change earths Pompe, for glory permanent.
Like Phoebus in his Course h'arose and ran,
His reigne in March both ended and began.
And as if he had bin a Starre that's fixt,
His Rise and Set were but two daies betwixt,
And once in two and twenty yeeres tis prou'd,
That the most fixed Stars are something mou'd.
But in his end, his Constancy we finde,
He had no mutable or wauering minde:
For that Religion, which his tongue and pen
Did still defend with God, maintaine with men:
That faith which in his Life he did expresse,
He in his Death did constantly prosesse;
His Treasure and his Iewels, they were such,
As I thinke Englands Kings had ne'r so much,
And still to men of honour and desert,
His Coffers were as open as his heart.
Peace, Patience, Iustice, Mercie, Pittie;
These were his Iewels in variety;
His Treasure alwaies was his Subiects Loue,
Which they still gaue him as th' effects did pro [...]
Which like to Earths contributary streames,
Paid homage to their Soueraigne Ocean, l [...]
He knew, that Princes Treasure to be best,
That's layd vp in the loyall Subiects brest;
[Page 325]And onely 'twas the riches of the minde,
To which he couerously was inclinde.
Thus was he blest in Person, blest in State,
Blest in his first, and his in latter date;
Blest in his education, blest in's learning,
Blest in his wisdome, good and ill discerning,
Blest in his marriage, and in his royall Race,
But blessed most of all in Gods high grace.
He did his God deuoutly serue and feare.
He lou'd him, and he held his loue most deare:
He honour'd and obeyde him faithfully;
He is his fauour liu'd, and so did dye:
His duty vnto God hee knew the way
And meanes, to make his Subiects him obey:
He knew that if he seru'd his God, that then
He should be seru'd, and fear'd, and lou'd of men:
And that if he Gods Statutes did respect,
That men would feare his Statutes to neglect.
That his Obedience vpward, did bring downe
Obedience to his Person and his Crowne.
He did aduance the good, supprest the bad,
Relieu'd the poore, and comforted the sad:
The Widdow, and the orphant fatherlesse,
He often hath suppll'd in their distresse,
[...]or why, to rich and poore, to great and small,
He was a common Father vnto all.
His affability and Princely parts,
Made him a mighty Conquerour of Hearts:
Offenders whom the law of life depriues,
His mercy pardon'd and preseru'd their liues:
To prisoners, and poore captiues miserie,
Hee was a Magazine of charity:
For losses that by sea, or fire did come,
He hath bestowed many a liberall summe.
Besides for Churches, it most plaine appeares,
That more hath bin repair'd in twenty yeeres,
(Is honour of our God and Sauiours name)
Then in an hundred yeeres before he came.
Our ancient famous Vniuersities,
Diuine, and Humane learnings Nurseries:
Such dewes of orace, as the Almighties will,
Was pleased (through those Limbecks) to distiil.
Which (spight of Romish rage, or Satans hate)
H [...] caul'd the glorious Gospell propogate:
Our (light of learning) Iames, did still protect them,
And as a nursirg Father did affect them.
Thus was Hee, for our soutes, and bodies health,
Defender of both Church, and Common-wealth.
For Ireland, he hath much reduc'd that nation,
Churches with land endow'd caus'd much plantati­on.
Whereby Ciuility is planted there,
The Kings obedience, and th' Almighties feare,
These deeds this worthy godly Prince hath done,
For which he hath perpetuall praises wonne.
Ah! what a gracious Man of God was this?
Mercy and Iustice did each other kisse;
His Affabilitie whilst he did liue,
Did make all men themselues to him to giue.
Thus liu'd Great Iames, and thus great Iames did dye,
And dying thus, doth li [...]e Eternally.
With Honour he did liue, and Life forsooke,
With Patience like a Lambe his death he tooke,
And leauing Kingly cares, and Princely paine,
He now inherits an Immortall Reigne:
For royall grieu'd, perplexed Maiesty,
He hath a Crowne of perpetuity:
For miserable Pompe that's transitory,
Hee is aduanc'd to euerlasting glory.
And as he lou'd, and liu'd, and dy' din Peace,
So he in Peace did quietly decease:
So let him rest in that most blest condition,
That's subiect to no change or intermission;
Whilst we his seruants, of him thus berest,
With grieued and perplexed hearts are lest;
But God in mercy looking on our grife,
Before he gaue the wound, ordain'd reliefe:
Though duteous Sorrow bids vs not forget
This cloud of death, I wherein our Sunne did set,
His Sonnes resplendent Maiestie did rise,
Load stone, and Load starre to our hearts and eyes:
He cleares our drooping spirits, he frees our scares,
And (like the Sunne) dries vp our dewey teares.
All those his seruants that lamenting grieue,
King Charles his Grace and fauour doth releeue:
But as they seru'd his Father, so he will
Be their most louing Lord and Soueraigne still,
As they were first to their Master liuing (being dead)
They are releeued, and re-comforted.
Thus Charity doth in succession runne,
A Pious Father leaues a godly Sonne:
Which Sonne his Kingly Gouernment shall passe,
His Kingdomes Father, as his Father was.
For though great Iames inter'd in earth doth lye,
Great Charles his brest intombes his memorie,
And heer's our comforts midst our discontents,
Hee's season'd with his Fathers Documents,
And as th' Almighty was his shield and speare,
Protecting him from danger euery where:
From most vnnaturall foule Conspiracie,
From Powder-plots, and hellish Treachery,
Whilst he both liu'd and dy'd, belou'd, renound,
And Treason did it selfe it selfe confound,
So I inuoke th' Eternall Prouidence,
To be to Charles a buckler and defence,
Supported onely by the Power Diuine,
As long as Sunne or Moone or Starres shall shine.

To all that haue Read this Poeme.

I Boast not, but his Maiesty that's dead
Was many times well pleas'd my lines to read:
[Page 326]And euery line, word, Syllable and letter,
Were (by his reading) graced and made better;
And howsoeuer they were good, or ill,
His bourty shew'd, he did accept them still;
He was so good and gracious vate me,
That [...] the vilest wretch on earth should be,
If, for his sake, I had not writ this Verse,
My last poore dutie, to his Royall Hearse.
Two causes made me this sad Poems wrue,
The first my humble dutie did inurte
The last, to shunne that vice which doth include
All other vices, foule Ingratitude.
FINIS.

FOR The sacred memoriall of the great, Noble, and ancient Example of Vertue and Honor, the Illustrious and welbeloued Lord, CHARLES HOWARD, Earle of Nottingham, Iustice in Eyre of all his Maiesties Forrests, Parks, and Chases on this side Trent; Knight of the Honourable Order of the Garter, and one of the Lords of his Maiesties most Honoura­ble P [...]iuie Councell; Who departed this Life at his Mannour of Hal [...]ing in Surrey, on Thurseday the 14. of December, 1624. and was buried at Rigate, amongst his Honourable Ancestors, the 20. of Decem­ber last, 1624.

TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE, Right Worshipfull, of both Sexes, who had either alliance by Marriage, Consangui­nity by Birth, or bore loue to the Right Noble and truly vertuous deceased.

I Humbly craue your Worthinesset [...] excuse
This boldnesse of my poore vnlearned Muse,
That hath presum'd so high a pitch to flye,
In praise of Vertue and Nobility.
I know this taske most fit for Learned men,
For Homer, Ouid, or for Virgils pen:
But for I with him haue both seru'd and sail'd,
My gratefull duty hath so farre preuail'd,
Boldly to write true Honours late decease,
Whilst better Muses please to hold their peace.
And thus much to the world my Verse proclaimes,
That neither gaine nor flattery are my aimes:
But loue and duty to the Noble dead,
Hath caus'd me cause these Lines be published.
And therefore I entreat your gen'rous Hearts,
T [...] accept my duty, pardon my deserts,
Beare with my weakenesse, winke at my defects:
Good purposes doe merit good effects;
Poore earthen Vessels may hold precious Wint,
And I presume that in this booke of mine,
In many places you shall something finde,
To please each Noble will affected minde.
And for excuse my Muse doth humbly plead,
That you'l forbeare to iudge before you read.
He that is euer a true wel-wisher, and [...] ­sequious Seruant to your Honours, Wor­ships, and Noble Personages, Iohn Taylor.

[Page 327] SOme few yeeres since, I rode to my Lords Mannour of Halcing in Surrey, where I presented his Lordship with a Manuscript, or written Booke of the names and degrees of all the Knights of the Noble Order of the Garter, since the first institution by king Edward the third, which was of mine owne collections out of Windsor Cattle, and some authontike [...]: His Lordship receiued it gratefully, and rewarded me honorably; in the which Booke was [...] Anagram of his name and Earledome of Nottingham, which [...]old very [...] to be he [...]re­ [...], under Printed, because it falles correspondent to the reuerence of his [...], and the happinesse which the words import.

Charles Howard, Earle of Nottinghame Anagramma: O Heauen cals, and hath true Glorie for me.
And happy was this happy Anagram,
Heauen calls Charles Howard Earle of Nottingham:
And he obeyd the call, and gain'd true glory,
For change of earthly Titles transitory.

For the sacred Memoriall of the Great, Noble and Ancient example of Vertue and Honour, the Illustrious and welbeloued Lord, Charles Howard, Earle of Nottingham, Iustice in Eyre of all his Maiesties Forrests, Parks and Chases on this side Trent; Knight of the Honorable Order of the Garter, and one of the Lords of his Maie­sties most Honorable priuy Councell.

WHat English Muse forbeares to shead a teare
For Englands Nestor, grauest, oldest Peere?
Not onely old in number of his dayes,
But old in vertue, & all good mens praise:
Whose actions all his pilgrimage did passe,
More full of honour then his title was.
And though his corps be seuer'd from his spirit,
And that the world sufficient knowes his merit:
Yet shall my poore vnworthy artlesse Verse,
[...] dutious seruice wait vpon his Hearse.
My selfe his Honour on the Seas attended,
And with his bounty haue I beene befriended,
And to acquite me from vnthankfulnesse,
My lines shall here my gratitude expresse.
No monumentall Marble reard on hie,
He needs t'emblaze him to posterity,
No flattring Epitaph he needs to haue,
To be engrau'd vpon a gawdie graue,
His life and actions are his Monument,
Which fills each kingdome, Clime, and Continent.
And when their memories shall stinke and dye,
Who in most stately sepulchers doe lay,
Then royall histories shall still relate
To each degree, or age, or sex, or state,
The vertue, valour, bounty, and the fame
Of Englands all-beloued Nottingham:
And Noble hearts his memory shall retaine,
Vntill the world to Chaos turne againe.
That yeere of wonderment call'd eighty eight,
When fraud and force did our destruction wait,
When Hell, and Rome, and Spaine did all agree,
That wee should vanquish'd and inuaded be,
Our foes at Sea thirty one thousand men,
With neere foure hundred ships and [...]lies then,
Then this White Lyon rowz'd with [...] [...]ue,
Defending both his ounrry and his Queene,
Like second Mars to battell braue he wen [...],
God making him his worthy instrument:
His Chiefraine, Champion and his Generall
With sixe score ships, and Vessels great a [...] [...]mall,
To conquer those that did for conquest [...]
And foyle the pow'r of Hell, and [...] and [...]
Then valour was with resolution mixt
And manhood with true F [...]uo [...] [...]
When death and danger [...]tned euery where.
Braue Charles (all [...]earel [...] [...]) did encourage can
When roring cannons coun [...] heau'ns thun­der
And slaughte [...]d men their vessels [...] vnder,
The Sun eclips'd with [...], skies darke and dim,
And batt'ring bullets seuered [...]im from li [...]
When as that Sea might bee the Rea Sea call'd,
Then he with dreadlesse courage, vnappa [...]l'd,
Like a bright B [...]acon, or a blazing Staire,
Approu'd himselfe a thunder [...]olr of warre
Whose valour and example valiantly,
Pursu'd and wonne a glorious victory.
[Page 328]And then by him (through the Almighties hand)
Preserued from inuasion was this Land.
So that who euer shall his Tombe passe by,
And shall enquire who there doth buried lye,
If answere be but made, He's in this Graue,
Who did in Eighty eight this Kingdome saue;
Then is the [...]otall told, and seruice best,
Where with this little Land was euer blest.
At * Cales likewise the Sea-fight we did win,
By his direction and graue disciplin
The Spanish ships soone from his force retir'd,
Some torne, some sunke, some taken, and some fir'd,
And whensoere he gaue the ouerthrow,
He nere insulted ore his conquerd foe,
But like a Noble Lyon, euery way
He scorn'd to prey vpon a yeelding prey:
With pitty, piety, and true remorce,
His clemency was mixt with manly force.
Vnto his foes a noble care he had,
Nor would affliction to affliction adde:
So that his enemies much cause did find,
To loue and honour his true noble mind.
Yet 'gainst offenders he was sharply bent,
Seuere in throats, and milde in punishment,
His iustice would condemne, and in a breath
His mercy sau'd whom iustice doom'd to death.
His aduersaries he did ofe relieue,
And his reuenge was onely to forgiue.
He knew that well got honour nere shall die,
But make men liue vnto eternitie:
It as his greatest riches he esteem'd,
And Infamy he basest begg'ry deem'd.
He knew, through worthy spirits may be croft,
Yet if they lose no honour nothing's lost.
And those that haue afraid of enuy bin,
True honour or good fame did neuer win.
If he an auaritio [...]s mind had bore,
Of wealth no subiect then had had such store:
So many yeeres Englands high Admirall,
Fees offices, and prizes that did fall,
With gifts and fauors from the queene and State,
And other things, amounting to a rate:
That had he beene a mixer, close of hand,
No subiect had beene richer in this Land,
In deeds of pitty, and ture charity,
Good house-keeping, and hospitality,
Bounty, and courteous affability;
He was the Brooch of true Nobility:
And for these vertues men shall scarcely find,
That he a fellow here hath left behind.
He knew that Auarice and Honour be
Two contraries that neuer will agree:
And that the Spender shall haue true renowne,
When infamy the Mizers fame shall drowne.
He euery way most nobly was inclin'd,
And lou'd no wealth but riches of the mind:
His Pleasure was, that those that did retaine
To him, and serue, should by him thriue and gain [...]
And he thought t'was enough for him to haue,
When as his seruants did both get and saue.
So amongst Nobles. I think few are such,
That keepes so little, giues away so much.
His latest VVill did make it plaine appeare,
The loue which to his seruants he did beare.
To great and small amongst them, more or lesse,
His bounty did expresse his worthynesse;
To all degrees that seru'd him euery one,
His liberality excepted none.
And though base Enuy often at him strooke,
His fortitude was like a Rocke vnshooke.
He knew that Fortunes changing was not strange,
Times variation could not make him change,
The frothy pompe of Earths Prosperity,
Nor enuious clouds of sad aduersity,
Within his minde could no mutation strike,
His courage and his carriage were alike:
For when base Peasants shrinke at fortunes blowes
Then magnimity most richly showes:
His grauity was in his life exprest,
His good example made it manifest,
His age did no way make his vertue liue,
But vertue to his age did honour giue,
So that the loue he wan tis vnderstood,
T was not for being old, but being good.
Thus like a pollish'd Iewell' mongst his Peers,
His vertue shin'd more brighter then his yeers:
For Wisdome euer this account doth make,
To loue age onely but for vertues sake.
Neere ninety yeeres an honoured life he led:
And honour's his reward, aliue and dead,
For who so nobly heer his life doth frame,
Shall for his wages haue perpetuall fame.
His meditations hee did oft apply,
How he might learne to liue, to learne to dye,
And dy, to liue and reigne in glorious state,
Which changing time can ne'r exterminate.
And therefore long his wisdome did forecast,
How he might best reforme offences past,
Order things present, things to come foresee,
Thus would his latter yeeres still busied be:
He saw his Sand was neer runne out his Glasse,
And wisely pondred in what state he was,
His waning yeeres, his body full of anguish,
Sense failing spirits drooping, force to languish,
The ruin'd cottage of weake flesh and blood,
Could not long stand, his wisdome vnderstood.
He saw his tyde of life gan ebbe so low,
Past all expectance it againe should flow:
He knew his pilgrimage would soone expire,
And that (from whence he came) he must retire
Old age and weake infirmities contend,
Mans dissolution warnes him of his end:
[Page 329]He knew all these to be deaths messengers,
His Calends, Pursiuants, and Harbingers,
And with a Christian conscience still he mark'd,
He in his finall voyage was imbark'd.
Which made him skilfully his course to steere,
(The whilst his iudgment was both sound & cleare)
To that blest Hauen of eternall rest,
Where he for euer liues among the blest.
He did esteeme the world a barren field,
The nought but snares, & tares, and cares did yeeld,
And therefore he did sow his hopes in heauen,
Where plentious encrease to him is giuen.
Thus was the period of his lifes expence,
The Noble Nottingham departed hence,
Who many yeeres did in his Countries right,
In peace and warre, successefull speake and fight,
Our oldest Garter Knight, and Counsellor,
And sometimes Britaines great Ambassador.
Now vnto you suruiuers, you that be
The Branches of this honourable Tree:
Though Verses to the dead no life can giue,
They may be comforters of those that liue.
We know, that God to man hath life but lent,
And plac'd it in his bodies tenement,
And when for it againe the Landlord cals,
The Tenant must depart, the Cottage fals.
God is most iust, and he will haue it knowne,
That he in taking life, takes but his owne:
Life is a debt which must to God be rendred,
And Natures retribution must be tendred.
Some pay in youth, and some in age doe pay,
But tis a charge that all men must defray:
For tis the lot of all mortality,
When they being to liue, begin to dye.
And as from sin to sin we wander in,
So death at last is wages for our sinne.
He neither hath respect to sex or yeares,
Or hath compassion of our sighes nor teares,
He'll enter (spight of bars, or bolts, or locks)
And like a bold intruder neuer knockes.
To Kings and Caiti [...]es, rich, poore, great and small,
Death playes the tyrant and destroyes them all.
He calls all creatures to account most strict,
And no mans power his force can contradict.
We must perforce be pleas'd with what he leaues vs,
And not repine at ought which he ber [...]anes vs.
Hee's lawlesse, and [...]s folly to demand
Amends, or restitution at his hand.
He doth deride the griefe of those that mourne,
And all our fraile afflictions laugh to scorne.
For hee condemnes, and neuer heares the cause,
He takes away, despight the power of Iawes.
Yet hee our vassall euer doth remaine,
From our first birth vnto our graue againe;
And God doth in his seruice him employ,
To be the bad mans terrour, good mans toy,
Death is the narrow doore to life eternall,
Or else the broad gate vnto death internall:
But our Redeemer in his spotlesse offering,
Did lead the way for vs to heauen by suffering.
He was the death of death, when he did die,
Then Death was swallow'd vp so victory,
And by his rising blessed soules shall rue,
And dwell in the celestial Paradise.
For these respects, you whose affinity,
Propinquity, or consanguinity,
Whose blood or whose alliance challenge can
A part in this deceased Noble man,
The law of Nature and affection moues,
That griefe and sorrow should expresse your loues,
He was your secondary maker, and
Your authors earthly being, and you stand
In duty for your liues and honours bound
To him, for by him haue you beene renown'd.
Yet Death that's common vnto euery one,
Should be intolerable vnto none:
And therefore let his noble spirit rest,
Amidst those ioyes which cannot be exprest,
Let those that liue, his goodnesse imitate,
And yeeld vnto the course of mortall fate.
FINIS.

A FVNERALL ELEGIE, IN THE SACRED MEMORY OF THE Right Reuerend, Right Honourable and Learned Father in GOD, LANCELOT, Lord Bishop of VVinchester, Deane of his Maiesties Chappell, Prelate of the Right Honourable Order of the Garter, and one of the Lords of his Maiestices most Honourable Priuie COVNCELL: Who departed this life at his house in Southwarke, on Munday the 25 th. of September last, 1626, and was Honourably Interred in Saint Sauiours Church in Southwarke, the XI. of Nouember.

TO THE WORSHIPFVLL AND RELIGIOVS GENTLE. man, M r. Iohn Parker, Citizen of London, and of the worship­full Societie of Marchant-Taylors.

Right Worthy Sir,

IN these ingratefull daies of ours, wherein mens merits are forgotten, with the expiration of the life; and that too many doe glory, to leaue happy or vnhappy posterities behinde them to [...] their memories liue when they are gone; or else put a vaine hope of a long lasting same, by e [...] ­cting painted vaine-glorious Sepulchers, and marble Monuments, whilst small are the [...] ber of those that by Piety, Charity, Noble and vertuous Actions, and good life and conuersation, [...] seeke to attaine the neuer-fading memory of Eternity, and true lmmortality, so that it is a doubt, wh [...] ­ther the death of the good, or the life of the bad, are most to be lamented: Yet although the true worth [...] this deceased Right Reuerend, Right Honourable and right Learned Father, (whom God in merry [...] taken from the euill to come) is of that inuincible and impregenable strength, that the flattery or battle of future time cannot beat it downe into the gulfe of obliuion and forget fulnesse, yet (though we [...] lesse) I in dutious loue and reuerence to the Dead, and true in affection to the liuing (amongst whom [...] [...] of my departed Lords Friends and Seruants, I am much endeared and oblieged vnto) I haue set [...] rudely to paper, and as I could (though not as I should) I haue as it were onley look'd into the Sui [...] of a goodly City, tasted Manna afarre off, and touched the skirts or hem of his meritorious vertues; wh [...] I have made bold to dedicate to your Worships graue and iudicious view and censure, humbly desir [...] your VVorship to accept my intention more then my Labour, in hope whereof, I cease to enlarge my E [...] further, wishing you such happinesse in this life, as is correspondent to your worth, and such, felicity in [...] life to come, as is layd vp for good men in Heauen.

Your Worships to command, IOHN TAYLOR
A Silly Taper, or a Candles light,
Are vaine additious to make Sol more bright:
[...] can one little water-drop augment
The mighty bounds of Neptunes continent:
The raging Winds that threaten sea and shore,
[...] one mans breath is not increas'd the more,
[...] or can a handfull of vnstable sand,
[...]yse mounts of earth, or amplifie the land.
[...] that am (the meanest man of men)
[...]rane wanting learning, meaner for the pen,
[...]th glimering raper, or a drop of raine,
[...]not increase the light, inlarge the maine,
[...] any way in sitting tearmes set foth,
[...]ght Reuerend Winchester, Admired worth:
[...]all the learned Poets of these dayes
[...]ght write, and speake in his deserued prayse,
[...] spend their inke and paper, and their spirits,
[...]add no fame or honour, ot his merits.
[...]as pute snow shewes whiter to the eye,
[...]hen cole-black Crowes, or swarty Rauens are by:
[...]as the darknesse makes light seeme more cleare,
[...]will his Vertues in my lines appeare.
[...]speake his passage in this vale of strife,
London he had being first and life:
[...]hose Parents (as became their reputation)
[...]bring him vp in worthy education,
[...] Prem brooke. Hall in Cambridge witnesse will,
[...]hereas his noble memory liues still.
[...]passing on in this his morall race,
[...]ne'd by grace, from higher place to place,
[...]to the Deanery of Westminster,
[...]to this Bishopricke of Chichester;
[...] Iames did next to Elye him preferre,
[...]ich learned Prince made him his Almoner,
[...] (by Gods prouidence) nor his desire,
[...]to Winchester translated higher;
[...]of the Royall Chappell, and beside,
Garters Prelate he was dignifide.
[...]gracious Iames, did in his wisedome see,
[...] worthy Lords vpright integrity:
[...]hom all loyall vertues were innate,
[...]him a priuy Councellour of State.
[...]his honours still did higher grow,
[...] minde in meeke humillity was low;
[...]like a blessed Samuel, was he
[...]yned from his infancy to be
[...]iant souldier of Christs faithfull Campe,
[...]in God Church a learn'd illustrious Lamp.
[...]at the lord to Abraham did say,
From thy Country, and thy Kin away;
[...]from thy Fathers house I charge thee goe,
[...]Lord that I to thee will showe:
[...]is right reuerend Lord, was from his youth
[...]from the world, to Gods eternall truth,
[...]being one in Heau' ns high businesse sent.
[...]igh in this world, yet from the world he went.
For though the world is, as 'tis vnderstood,
Mans natiue Country, as he's flesh and blood;
Yet is his worldly part a prison foule,
Wherein in bondage lyes his purer soule,
Which soule is heauenly, & makes heauen her aime,
And here she's in the World, not of the same.
So this deceased Subiect of my muse,
He liu'd and grieu'd to see the worldsabuse;
And like a [...]eremy, [...] had [...]ments
He sigh'd and greu'd, bewaynng the euents
Which haue, and doe, and dad, [...] are like,
Vpon this woefull age of ours to strike.
He saw and grieu'd a: what all men should grieue,
How goodnesse small reipect, could here achieue;
And how the chiefest good that men doe craue,
Is pompe and wealth, and rich appreil braue:
How man will for his body haue good food,
Good fire, good cloathes, good house, and, lodging good,
And all the care's how these goods may be had,
And few men cared though their soules be bad
Thus the sraile World, & in pous [...]
Strooke in his Christian heart, griefes deepe impres­sion,
That all that worldly was he quite [...]orgor,
And vs'd the World, as if hee vs'd it [...] o [...]:
Hee (by the Spirit of God) perceiued, plaine,
That all earthes pompe and glory is but vayne;
And therefore with a lowly minde and meeke,
He did Christs righteousnesse kingdome seeke:
For which, (euen as our Sauiours word is past)
His earthly treasures were vppon him cast:
For still the word of God confirm'd shall be.
I'le honour them (saith he) that honour me.
His heart was free from an ambitious thought,
No popular applause of men he sought;
His pride was godly, a true Christian pride,
To know Christ, and to know him crucifide;
And though fraile men are with vaine toyes intis'd,
Hee with'd to be disolu'd to be with Christ.
His charity was not in out-ward show,
No Pharisey-like Trumpet ere did blow,
To make the World applause with speech or pen,
When he in pitty pelp'd the wants of men.
Two chollers in th' Vniuersities,
He (priuate) gaue most bountifull supplies:
To Prisoners he sent many a secret summe,
And the receiuers nere knew whence it comes
God gaue to him, and for his sake agen
He gaue it backe to helpe distressed men:
Yet close and priuate, should his a mes still be,
That God might hane the glory, and not he.
Where ere hee lodg'd, or where his house hee kept,
His piety and charity nere slept:
Where still his gifts hath clone and secret beene,
And (to the view of men) but seldome seene.
When late our sins did Gods high wrath incence,
That he destroy'd vs with the Pestilence;
[Page 332]And that the poore did pine, the rich were fled,
And Charity seem'd buried with the dead;
Then this true godly, honorable man,
Did with a zeale and loue most Christian:
Knowing Saint Sauiours Parish to be darge,
Opprest with poore, and an excessiue charge;
Means small, necessity exceeding great
Many to feede and little foode to eater:
In this extreamity, this worthy Peere,
Did in his charitie so good appeare,
That by his bounty many soules were cherish'd.
Which (but for him) vndoubtedly bad perish'd.
The like he did in succouring the destresse,
Of many places in his Diocesse.
He well remembred God had rais'd him high,
In state of eminence and dignity;
But yet his memory deseru'd more prayse,
Remembring to what end God did him rayset;
For men all of Degrees, estates, and rankes:
Will giue to God some superficiall thankes,
Confessing he hath in their state them set;
But yet the end wherefore, they quite forget,
Therefore he well and wisely vnderstood,
That he had great promotions to be good;
And that he was endued with earthly pelfe,
To giue, and haue least ioy of it him selfe,
And as a stoward iust, what he possest,
Hee still distributed to the opprest.
And though mans merrits challenge nothing can,
Yet God so loues a iust and righteous man;
That here hee liues with his protection guarded,
And after with eternall life rewarded.
aHis learning was approoued to be such,
As scarcely any one man had so much:
Yet though in Scholler-ship he did excell,
His chiefest honour was, he vs'd it well.
When Romes chiefe champion famous Bellarmine,
Imploy'd his studies and his best ingine.
To proue the Papall dignity had power
O're Councells, Fathers, King or Emperour,
Or Church, or sacred text Cannonicall,
Or any thing which we may mortall call;
And that these errours printed were in Rome,
And scattered, and divulg'd through Christondome:
Then Winch [...]ster, did for the Gospells right
So learn'd; so grauely and profoundly write,
His Booke that was Tortus Tortortum call'd,
Which made the Roman Clergy all apal'd.
He shew'd them there how vainly they did vaunt,
How far from truth they were disconsonant:
And how the Pope was prou'd the man of sinne,
Maugre his mighty Bulwarke Bellarmine,
Thus he (defending our Religion)
Shooke Antichristian Romish Babilon,
Proouing our faith to be true Catholike,
And in antiquity Apostolike.
Indeede his learning so transcendant was,
And did so farr'e my silly praise surpasse,
That I my wit and studies may confound,
And in un Ocean bottome lesse be drown'd.
Ile therefore cease to touch that lofty straine,
So farre aboue the Circuite of my braine;
His chiefest learning was, Gods Law he learn'd
Whereby to liue and dye hee well discern'd.
As Malachy b of Priests did Prophecy,
His lips preserued knowledge plentiously,
That sauing knowledge, which c Iohn Baptist brough [...]
Saluation, and dremitting sinnes he taught;
Yea all his knowledge were to these intents,
To know God and keepe his Commandements.
A single life he liu'd, but his desert,
And vertue, was in singlnesie of heart:
Well he knew Marriage or Virginity,
Were (of themselues) no perfect sanctity;
For mis-beleeuing Infidels doe eyther,
Yet haue no perfect holinesse by neither:
But where the gift of continence is giuen
With single life, it is the grace of Heauen;
And this blest gift was still in him so ample,
That he both liu'd and dy'd a rare example.
Thus liu'd he 70 yeeres, iust Dauids span,
(Times circuite, for the Pilgrimage of man)
And in a good age, Dauid-like deecast,
With e Honour, Daies and Riches fully blest.
And for more honour of his hoary haires,
Yeeres grac'd his person, vertue grac'd his ye [...]
His port and places were of eminence,
But 'twas his goodnesse was their excellence:
So that although his honour was compleat,
He grac'd it more in being good then great.
His seruants of a Master are depriu'd,
Who shewed himselfe to them whilst he suruin [...]
Not as an Austere Master, but still rather,
A louing, and a wel-beloued father:
His loue to them was in his gifts and cares,
And their for him, is in their sighes and teares.
Foure brothers, and two sisters they were late,
But three haue finish'd their suruiuing date;
Lancelot (the chiefe) Nicholas and Thomas, they
Haue left this transitory house of clay:
And as from but one father they did spring,
So in one house they had their finishing.
But Roger, Mary, Martha, you are left,
And though you of your brethren are berest,
They are but gone, that you may come to them
To Glory, to the new Ierusalem.
Yet God's your father, as hee's theirs (in blisse)
And Iesus Christ to you a brother is.
But note the prudence and the prouidence,
[Page 333]This good man whom God bath taken hence.
[...]well sore-saw his bodies dissolution,
[...] therefore for his goods iust distribution,
[...]for his sole Executor elected
[...] (that like himselfe)the world respected:
[...]s my Lord all earthly pompe did hate,
[...]did esteme this world at little rate:
[...] did venture loue, and vice abhor,
[...] without doubt) doth his Executor:
[...]therefore he committed this great trust,
[...] he knew was honest, plaine and iust.
[...] for conclusion, for a finall end,
[...] time this Reuerend Father did attend,
[...]new that he to Nature was a debter,
[...] therefore long'd to change this life for better.
[...] heart was open still to welcome Death,
[...] great desire was to expire his breath,
[...]new it is a passage must be past;
[...]ey that all flesh must goe at last:
[...] of rest, a ceasing here to sinne,
[...]d, where endlesse glory doth beginne.
[...]though conuulsions, sighs, and sickly groanes,
Our parents, friends, & kindreds teares and moanes,
The bells sad toling, and the mourning weede,
Makes Death more dreadfull then it is indeede,
Yet wise men all in generall agree,
Tis naturall to dye, as borne to be,
And as man cannot here auoyd his birth,
So shunne hee cannot his returne to earth.
The Pilgrimage, the race, the glasse is runne,
The threed is spun, they victory is wonne;
And Honourable Winchester is gone
Vnto the Lambe, that sits vpon the Throne:
For as I well haue scan'd vpon his name,
And of it made a double Anagram:
(And Anagrams oft-times include a fate)
And 'tis no doubt but they explaine his State,
For hauing past with troubles, griefes and cares,
This transitory life, this vale of teares;
Yet LANCELOT ANDREWES name, doth this por­tend,
All sure, All due content, Crownes all art end.
FINIS.

True louing Sorrovv, [...]TTIRED IN A ROBE OF VNFAINED [...]efe, presented vpon occasion of the much bewailed Funerall that Gracious and Illustrious. Prince, LEVVIS STEVVARD, [...]e of Richmond and Linox, Earle of Newcastle and Darnely, Lord of Torbolt [...]n and [...]uen, Baron of Settrington, Knight of the Noble Order of the Garter, Lord High [...]irall, & great Chamberlain of Scotland, Lord high Steward to the Kings most [...]lent Maiesties most Honourable Houshold, Gentleman of his Maiesties Bed-chamber, [...] one of his Maiesties most Honourable Priuie Councell for England and Scotland: who [...]departed this life at White-hall, on Thursday the 12 of February 1624. whose obse­quies were solemnly and Princely celebrated on Munday the 19 of Aprill fol­lowing, described in forme as followeth. Dedicated generally to all his worthy Friends, and louing Seruants; and particularly to that trusty and welbe­loued Seruant of his, Arthur Neassmith.

ANd first my Muse findes, that his Graces name Significantly makes an Anagram. LEWIS STEWARDE. Anagram. VERTV IS WEL EAS'D. His Vertues such continuall paines did take For King and Countrie, Church and peoples sake; That for Earths courtly toyle, to him 'twas giuen, His VERTV IS WEL EAS'D t'the Court of Heauen.
A Funerall Elegie.

GReat God, that to thy self wilt take thine own,
By sundry waies, and means to man vnknown,
Whose Eye of prouidence doth still perceiue
When, where, why, who to take, or else to leaue,
Whose mercy, and whose Iustice equall are,
Both Infinite, to punish or to spare,
All men doe know, that men to dye are borne,
And from the earth, must to the earth returne.
But Time and Circumstance coniecture may,
For some great cause thou took'st this Duke away.
Amongst vs lurks so many a foule offence,
Which giues thee cause to take good men from hence:
And that this Prince was good as well as great
His life and timelesse losse doth well repeate.
Deuout and zealous to his God aboue:
True to his King, as did his seruice proue:
Discreet in Counsell, Noble in his minde,
Most Charitablly, Honourably kinde:
So Affable, so Hopefull vnto all,
And so Repleat with vertues generall,
That we may say, This Land in losing him,
Hath lost a gracious Peere, a prop, a lim.
It must be true, that well he spends his daies,
Whose actions doe attaine all peoples praise:
And surely I suppose hee doth not liue,
Who of this Duke a bad report can giue.
So full endu'd he was of all good parts,
With Noble Courtesie he wan all hearts,
To loue and honour his admired minde,
So well addicted, and so well enclin'd,
That as a Diamond in gold transfixt,
His vertues with his greatnesse were so mixt,
That he as one of an immortall Race,
Made Vertue vertuous, and gaue Grace to grace.
Then since his goodnesse was so generall,
The losse of him is Gen'rall vnto all;
This being true, let's recollect our spirits,
And weigh his worth with our vnworthy merits;

The manner of the Funerall.

8. Conductors with black staues, & poore Gowns 10 [...]

Seruants to Gentlemen and Esquires in Cloakes, 50.

Seruants to Knights, 46. Seruants to Baroness, [...]

Three Trumpeters.

Then came the Standard, borne by Sir Ge [...]

Samms Knight, accompanyed with an Officer of Armes

The first Horse couered with blacke cloth, [...] with Scutchions, Shoffron and Plumes, ledly a gro [...]

Heere went seruants to Baron younger Sonnes, [...] some others of like quality, in number, 15.

The seruants to Knights of the Priuy Councell,30.

Seruants to Earles younger Sonnes, 24.

Seruants to Viscounnts eldest Sonnes, 6.

Then the Schollers of Westminster in [...]oun [...]

Surplices, their Masters following in mourning Go [...]

Three Trumpeters.

The Guiators borne by Sir Andrew Boyd Knight, [...] companyed with an Officer of Armes.

The second Horse led by a Groome, and furnished the former.

Barons seruants, 60.

Bishops seruants, 10.

Earles eldest Sonnes seruants, 15.

Viscount seruants. 10.

Marquesses eldest Sonnes seruants.

3 Trumpeters

The Banker of the augmentation, borne by a kni [...] companied with an Officer of Armes.

The third Horse led by another Groome of his Gr [...] Stable, furnished as the others. Earles seruant: ma [...] set and Dukes seruants, The Lord Priuy-Seales Seruant [...]

President of the Cuoncell,
Seruant.
Lord Treasurers.
Seruant.
Lord Keepers,
Seruant.
And Lord Archbishops,
Seruant.

3 Trumpeters. The Banner of Steward, borne by [...] Iohn Steward accompanied with an Officer of Armes [...]

The fourth Horse sed by a Yeoman of his Graces [...] ­ble

[Page 335]And then our fraileties truely will confesse,
God tooke him hence for our vnworthinesse:
Death was in Message from th'Almighty sent.
To summon him to Heau'ns high Parliament,
He chang'd his Gracious Title transitory,
And (by the grace of God) attain'd true Glory;
And as his King had his integrity;
So did the Commons share his Clemency,
Which was so pleasing to his Makers sight,
That bounteously he did his life requite,
That Lambe-like, mildely hence hee tooke him slee­ping,
To his Eternall euer-blessed keeping.
Thus as his name includes, so God is pleas'd,
(From worldly sorrows) VERTV IS WEL EAS'D.
No sicknesse or no physicke made him languish,
He lay not long in heart-tormenting anguish:
But as Gods feare was planted in his brest,
[...]oat his Rest, God tooke him to his Rest.
When like a good Tree, laden full of fruite,
Of Grace, of Vertue, Honour, and Repute:
Euen in his best estate, too good for Earth,
Then did his soule put on a second Birth.
And though his part of fraile mortality,
Yet Monumentall Marble heere doth lye:
As thousands weeping soules, with deepe laments,
[...]s his most woefull mourning Monuments,
[...] daily see, whose visages doe show
That Hee's inter'd within their hearts below;
Whose faces seeme an Epitaph to beare,
That men may Reade who is intombed there.
Epitaph.
GOod, Gracious Great, Richmond & Linox Duke,
God, King, and Countries seruant heere doth lye;
[...]hose liuing Merits merit no rebuke,
[...] whose liues losse lamenting Memory,
[...] hearts are groning Graues of griefes and cares,
[...]hich when we dye, wee'l leaue vnto our heyres.
ME thinks the Sable Mourners did appeare,
As if in forme they numbring Figures were;
[...] 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9.
Whilst all that view'd, like Ciphers did combine
Their mourning with the Mourners to vnite,
Which made thier Lamentations infinite.
And Infinite are now his Ioyes aboue,
With the Eternall God of peace and loue:
Where, for a mortall Duke dome he hath wonne,
(Through boundlesse merits of th'Amighties Son)
[...] Kingdome that's immortall, where hee sings
[...]erpetuall praise vnto the King of Kings.
Thus what the Earth surrendred, heau'n hath seaz'd
Most blest LEWIS STEWARDE,
VERTV IS WEL EAS'D,

ble furnished as the other.

Seruants to his Grace in Cloakes: Officers to his Grauce in Gownes.

3 Trumpeters.

The Banner of Steward, and the augmentation quar­tered with it, borne by a Baronet accompanied with a He­rald of Armes.

The 5 Horse led by a Yeoman of his Graces Stable, furnished as the former.

Seruants of seuer all Offices in his Maiesties House, and other Esquires, his ma [...]stres seruants of good quali­tie.

The Gentlemen of his Maiesties Chappel in Surplaices and rich Copes, the Sergeant of the Vestry accompanying them Chaplaines, Doctors of Phisicke, Doctors of Diui­nity, Knights, Gentlemen of the Priuy Chamber, Gentle­men of the Bed-chamber to the Prince: Baronets, Barons younger sonnes: Knights of the Priuy-Councell, Viscounts eldest sonnes: a Veluet cushen cart [...]ed by an Esquire, The Comptroller, Treasurer, Steward, and Chamberlain to his Grace, bearing white Staues, Barons of Ireland, Scot­land and England, Bishops, Earles eldest Sons, Viscounts, Earles of Scotland, and England, The Duke of Linox eldest Sonne, The Arch-Bishop of Canterbury, The Mace, The Purse, The Iora Keeper, Preacher, Serge­ant Trumpetter, and foure Trumpets, The Great Banner borne by an Earles Sonne: accompanied with an Herald, The chiefe mourning Horse couered with blacke Veluet, and garnished with Eschochens of Tassata, with Shaffron and Plumes, led by M r. Harton Clauell, His Graces Hatchinements borne as followeth. The Gauntlets and Spurres, The Helme and Crest, and the Sword borne by three Heralds, The Targe and Coate of Armes, borne by two Kings of Armes. Then the [...]uely Effigies or repre­sentation of his Grace, drowne in a Chariot by sixe goodly Horses, garnished as the former, couered with a Canopy of black Veluet, The Pall supported two Earles Sons, and two Marquesses Sons, The Fo [...] going on each side the Chariot, and likewise ten small Banners, carried by 10. Knights, 5 of Scotland, and 5 of England, round about the Chariot, two Principall Gentlemen riding at his head and feet in the said Chariot. Then folowed Garter principall King of Armes, accompanied with a Gentleman [...] sher, who went bareheaded, the Duke of Linox chief Mourner, The Lord Tresurer, and Lord President of the Councell, his supporters, 10 other Assistants, The Lord Priuy Seale, and Duke of Buckingham, The Marquis Hamilton, and Earle Marshall, The Lord Chamberlaine of his Ma­iesties House, and the E. of Sussex, the E. of Southamp­ton, and E. of Essex, the E. of Salisbury, and E. of Ex­ceter, The M r of the Horse to his Grace in close mourning, leading the Horse of Honor, [...] furnished. Thus past this sad shew from his Graces House in Holborne to Westminster, where the Funerall Rites being solemnely ended, his Graces liuely Effigies was le [...] in the Abby of S t. Peter, vnder a Rich Hearse.

FINIS

GREAT BRITAINE ALL IN BLACKE, OR, A short Elegie written in the manner of AEquiuoques, in a sad and dutifull remembrance of the Royall Prince HENRY.

OH for a Quill of that Arabian Wing,
That's hatcht in embers of Sun-kindled fire,
Who to her selfe, her selfe doth issue bring,
And three in one, is Young, and Dam, and Sire.
Oh, that I could to Virgils veine aspire,
Or Homers Verse the golden-languag'd Greeke,
In polish'd phrases I my lines would tyre,
Into the depth of Art my Muse would seeke.
Mean time she 'mongst the linguish'd Poets throngs;
Although she want the helpe of Forraigne Tongs.
TO write great Britaines wo how am I able?
That hauing lost a peerelesse Princely Sonne,
So wise, so graue, so stout, so amiable,
Whose Vertues shin'd as did the mid-dayes Sunne,
And did illustrate all our Hemispheare,
Now all the world affoords not him his pheare.
His Royall minde was euermore dispos'd,
From vertue vnto vertue to accrue:
On good deserts his bountie he dispos'd,
Which made him follow'd by so braue a crue,
That though himselfe was peerlesse, many a Peere,
As his Attendants, dayly did appeare.
In him the Thundrers braine-borne daughter Pallas
Had tane possession, as her natiue Clime:
In him, and his terrestriall heau'nly Palace,
Was taught how men by vertuous deeds shal clime,
So that although his yeeres were in the spring,
He was true honours Fount and valors Spring.
So firme, so stable, and so continent,
So wise, so valiant, and so truly chaste;
That from his Microcosmos continent,
All heau'n-abhorred hel-hatch'd lust was chac'd:
Hee ran no vicious vice alluring grace,
To staine the glory of his Royall race.
His soule, from whence it came, is gone, againe,
And earth hath tane, what did to earth belong:
He whilom to this Land was such a Gaine,
That mem'ry of his losse must deeds belong.
All states and sexes, both the young and graue,
Lament his timelesse going to his Graue.
Man-murdring death, blinde, cruell, fierce and fell,
How dost thou gripe him in thy meagre armes!
By thy rude stroke this Prince of Princes fell,
Whose valor brau'd the mighty God of Armes:
Right well in peace, he could of peace debate:
Dreadlesse of dreadfull danger or debate.
Robustuous rawbon'd monster death, to teare
From vs our happy hope we did enioy:
And turne our many ioyes to many a teare,
Who else might ioyfully haue liu'd in ioy!
As wind on thousands all at once doth blow,
By his deaths stroke so millions feele the blow.
Well could I wish, (but wishing is in vaine)
That many millions, and amongst them I
Had slue'd the bloods from euery flowing veine,
And vented floods of water from each eye:
T'haue sau'd the life of this Maiestike Heyre,
Would thousand soules had wandred in the ayre
But cease, my Muse, thou farre vnworthy art
To name his name, whose praise on hie doth mount
Leaue. (leaue I say) this taske to men of Art,
And let his soule rest to sweet Zions Mount:
His Angell spright hath bid the world adue,
And earth hath claim'd his body as a due.
Epitaph.
Here vnder ground great HENRIES corps doth be,
If God were pleas'd, I wish it were a lye.
IOHN TAYLOR

THE MVSES MOVRNING: OR, FVNER ALL SONNETS ON THE Death of IOHN MORAY Esquire.

TO THE WHOLE AND ENTIRE NVMBER OF THE Noble and Ancient name of Morayes, Iohn Taylor dedicates these sad Funerall Sonnets.

Sonnet. 1.

VVHen King Corbredus wore the Scottish Crowne,
The Romanes did the Britaine Land afflict:
But Corbred ioyn'd confederate with the Pict,
By whom Queen [...]eadaes foes were ouerthrowne.
The Morayes, then, to haue their valour knowne,
Did first the Romane forces contradict:
And made them render vp their liues so strict,
That horse and foot, and all were beaten downe.
Loe thus began the Morayes honour'd Race,
Of memorable Ancient worthy fame:
And since the fiue and fiftieth yeere of Grace,
[...] Scotland hath suruiu'd that noble name.
To whom aliue, and to my dead friends hear so,
In duty heere I consecrate this verse.
Hee that is euer obliged to your Noble name: IOHN TAYLOR.

Sonnet. 2.

WEepe euerlastingly, you Nymphs diuine,
Your very Quintessence is waste and spent:
Sigh, grone and weepe, with wofull languishment,
Dead is the life that made your Glories shine.
The heau'nly numbers of your Sacred nine,
He tun'd as an Aetheriall Instrument,
So sweet, as if the Gods did all consent
In him their Consort wholy to combine.
Weepe, Muses, euerlastingly lament,
Eclipsed is your Sire Apollo's shrine:
Grim Death, the life hath from your Champion rent,
And therefore sigh; grone, weepe, lament and pine:
And let the Lawrell rot, consume and wither,
Dye, Muses, and be Tombd with him together.

Sonnets. 3.

FRom two strong Iailes thy corps & [...]on [...] acquit­ted,
The one compact of flesh, and bloud and bone:
The other vnrelenting sencelesse stone,
By God to one by man to one committed.
I euer did expect a happy time,
When thou shouldst shake by bondage from thy backer:
I euer hop'd that thy vnwilling crime
Would be forgot, and thou secur'd from wracke.
For this I wish'd and prat'd both day and night:
I onely aym'd to haue thy body freed,
But heau'n (beyond my reason) had decreed,
Soule, body, both at once to free thee quite.
Thou in thy life hast past a world of trouble,
But death from double Iailes hath freed thee double.

Sonnet. 4.

COrruption, Incorruption hath put on;
Immortall, weake mortality is made:
Earths wo hath gain'd a happy heauenly throne,
By death, life dyes, by life deaths force doth fade.
Though death kill life, yet life doth conquer death,
Death but puts off our Rags of shame and [...]ine:
When for a moment's an eternall breath,
Life (passing through the dore of death) doth win.
This thou well knowst (my much beloued friend)
And therefore thou didst dare death to his worst,
But he (much busied) could not thee attend,
Or durst not, till thy cares thy heart had burst.
And then the slaue came stealing like a thiefe,
And 'gainst his will, did giue thy woes reliefe.

Sonnet. 5.

THou fortunes foot-ball, whom she vs'd to tosse,
From wrong to wrong, from wo to wo againe:
From griefe rebounding backe to pinching paine,
As't please the blind-fold Dame to blesse or crosse:
But thou, vnmou'd with either gaine or losse,
Nor ioy, nor care, could vexe they constant braine:
Thou smil'dst at all her buffets with disdaine,
And all her fauours thou esteem'dst as drosse;
Her and her Fauorites thou still didst deeme
Iust as they are, not as they seeme to be:
Her Minions all as fooles thou didst esteeme,
And that's the cause she would not fauour thee:
Then since such reck'ning she of fooles doth make:
Would thou hadst beene one, for her fauours fake.

Sonnet. 6.

TIs written in the euer liuing Word,
(The Rule and Square that men should liue there­by)
Afflictions are the tuch-stones of the Lord.
By which he onely doth his seruants try.
Then Noble Moray, thou hadst many a tuch,
And still the patience good and currant prou'd,
Thy manly carriage in thy griefs were such,
Which made thee (more then much) admir'd and lou'd.
What yeer, what month, week, day or fading houre,
Wherein some mischiefe did thee not befall?
Yet had Affliction ouer thee no power
To conquer thee, but thou didst conquer all.
Vnnumbred times thou wast both toucht and tri'd,
And in thy Makers feare and fauour dy'd.

Sonnet. 7.

VVEep heart, weepe eyes, weep my vnable pen,
In teares of blood, of water, and lake:
With bread of sorrow, and afflictions drinke
I liue, for I haue lost a man of men.
Yet heart, eyes, pen, dry vp your teares agen,
He is not lost, he's rather newly found:
Enfranchis'd from a dolefull theeuish den,
And with a rich Immortall Crowne is crownd,
Then hart, eies, pen, no more with teares be drownd.
Weepe not for him that doth reioyce for euer:
Yet this againe my comfort doth confound,
Hee's lost to mee, and I shall find him neuer.
Then weep Muse, heart, eies, pen lament and weep [...]
My ioyes are buried in eternall sleepe.

Sonnet. 8.

SLeepe, gentle spirit, in Eternall rest,
Free from all heart-tormenting sorrow sleepe:
Whilst I doe vent from my care-crazed brest,
Hart-wondring sighs that there their mansion keep [...]
And let my grones from out that Cauerne deepe,
With lamentations and cloud-cracking thunder,
And let mine eyes an Inundation weepe,
Let sighs, grones, teares, make all the world to won­der,
I meane my little Microcosmo world,
Sigh stormes, grone thunder, weep a floud of teares [...]
Through eu'ry part of me, let griefe be hurld,
That whosoeuer my lamenting heares,
May mone (with me) the cause of this my Ditty,
Or if not mone with me, vonchsafe to pitty,

Sonnet. 9.

SInce cursed fates haue fatally decreed
To tosse and tumble harmelesse Innocence:
And all the crue of hels abortiue breed
Haue glutted Enuies maw, by lawes defence:
Yet God whose knowledge knows the least offence,
Who all things sees, with his all-searching eye,
Doth with his glorious great omnipotence,
Right wronged wrongs, & heares his seruants cry,
His mercie's not immur'd within the sky,
But freely he doth powre it downe on earth:
He with afflictions scourge his sonnes doth try,
And when he pleases, turnes their mone to mirth,
And though man liues in care, and dies in sorrow,
A heauy euening brings a ioyfull morrow.

Sonnet. 10.

WEll hast thou runne in this [...]y weary race,
Well hast thou fought with Satan hand to hād:
Th'ast won the Goale, and gain'd the blessed Land,
That's neither limitted with time or place.
There thou attendest on the th [...]e of Grace,
There Angels, and Archangels sweetly sing:
Eternall praises to th'eternall King,
And see the glorious brightnesse of his face.
All this I (doubt not) but thou w [...]ll hast done,
Not of thy selfe (with shamefull sinne pollated)
But thy Redeemer hath the co [...]iest wonne,
And vnto thee the victorie's imputed.
He paid the score, and cancell'd all thy bands,
And gaue thee to his blessed Fathers hands.

Sonnet. 11.

NOw may you theeuing Poets filch and steale:
Without controlement breaking Priscians pate:
For he that whilom could your theft reueale,
Your Criticke, and your Hypercriticke late.
Now may you cog and lye and sweare and prate,
And make your idle verses lame and halt:
For by the pow'r of euiternall Fate,
Hee's gone that could and would correct each fault.
But you haue greatest cause to moane his want.
You sacred heau'nly Sisters (three times thrice)
He from your Gardens, could all weeds supplant,
And replant fruites and flowres of pecrelesse price;
He kept (vnbroke) your Numbers, Tipes & Tropes:
But now hee's dead, dead are your onely hopes.

Sonnet. 12.

AS Solon, to rich haplesse Croesus said,
No man, is happy till his life doth end:
The proofe in thee so piainly is displaid,
As if he thy Natiuity had kend.
What mortall miseries could mischiefe send,
But thou therein hast had a treble share:
As if Calamities their powers should bend,
To make thy Corps a treasure-house of care?
Yet fell Aduersity thou didst out-dare,
And valiantly 'gainst stormes of woe resisted:
Loue of the world they minde could not insnare,
Thou knewst wherein the best of best consisted.
And as old Solon said, so I agree,
Death makes men happy, as it hath done thee.

Sonnet. 13.

NO [...] Trophee Vertue needes,
And good report a marble Tombe out-weares:
[...] plaies the Herald, & proclaimes mens deeds,
Her Trumps Thrill sound the spacious world heares.
And such an vniuersall Tombe hast thou,
Borne on the tops of thousand thousand tongs:
Thy liuing merit doth thy name allow
A Monument for euer, which belongs
To none but such as whilom was thy selfe,
Who vs'd the world as if they vs'd it not:
And did acknowledge misbegorten pelfe.
Must (like the getters of it) rust and rot.
And such a liuing Tombe thy Corps inherit,
A good report, according to thy merit.

Sonnet. 14.

HAd I the skill of Homer, Maro, Naso,
Or had I that Admir'd ornated stile
Of Petrark, or the braue Italian Tasso,
I could not ouermuch thy praise compile.
But as I am (alas and woe the while)
A poore vnlearned silly simple swaine:
At whose attempt the world with scorn will smile,
And flout th'vnshapen issne of my braine.
But duty bids me lanch into this Maine,
Though my performance be but weake of store,
Yet worthy mindes this goodnesse doe retaine,
Not to despise the seruice of the poore.
I lou'd him liuing, and my loue to show,
My least and last poore loue I heere bestow.
FINIS.

A FVNERALL ELEGY: DEPLORING THE DEATH OF THE TRVE Patterne, Patrone, and mirrour of Honour, the Right Hono­rable Lord, IOHN RAMSEY, Lord Discount HADING­TON, Earle of HOLDERNESSE, Who departed this life on Tuesday, the 24 of Ianuary last, and was buried in the Abby-Church of Westminster on Tuesday the last of February following.

[figure]
Haee dextra vindex, Principis & Patriae,
An A R M E and hand (well ARM'D
With HEAV'NLY might)
That gripes a iust drawne SWORD,
thrust through a HEART;
Adorned with a ROYALL DIADEM:
This, and this Motto was his owne by right,
Giuen by his SOVERAIGNE for his iust desert,
And in his Coate of ARMES inserted them.
His right Hand did reuenge, and ouer came,
His Prince and Countries foes, and purchas'd fame.

TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE and vertuous Lady, the LADY MARTHA, Countesse of Holdernesse.

RIght Honoured Madame, to your noble view,
These lines of greife, with griefe I dedicate:
Not that I would your cares a fresh renew,
Or any way your sorrowes aggrauate.
Of you put please to reade what I relate,
My hope is, that your grieued heart shall finde
Some things that may your woe extenuate,
And adde some comfort to your care-craz'd minde,
And as you still haue nobly beene inclin'd,
To beare with Christian patience euery crosse:
So be that Vertue still to you combinde,
Supporting you, to vndergoe this losse.
Thus crauing pardon, I the heau'ns implore,
To make your sorrowers lesse, your comfort more.
IOHN TAYLOR.

A Sonnet of true and notable obseruations, vpon feuen seue­rall Teuesdayes.

VPon a Tuesday hee his Birth beganne.
Vpon a Tuesday he his baptism [...] had,
Vpon a Tuesday hee his Honour [...] anne,
Vpon the Gowries, (whose intents were bad.)
Vpon a Tuesday hee at first did wed
The Noble Sussex daughter, who deceast:
Vpon a Tuesday then hee married
Sir William Cockains C [...]alde, by heau'ns behest.
Vpon a Tuesday hee d [...]ataste Deaths Cup,
And to his blest Redeemer gaue his spirit.
Vpon a Tuesday hee was closed vp
Within his Tombe, which doth his Corp [...] inherit.
Thus vpon Tuesdaies 'twas his lot to haue,
Birth, Baptisme, Honor, two Wiues, Death & Graue.

A FVNERALL ELEGY.

YOu Poets all, where is your Art become?
Are you all tong-ti'd? ar your Muses duin
Or are your sorrows in your brests so shut
That you your pens to paper cannot put?
Can neither duty, or your loue expresse,
The lamentable losse of Holdernesse?
Alas! I know, that you doe know, his Worth
Was farre beyond your skils to blazon forth,
And that when you had done what could be done,
It had beene as a Taper to the Sunne.
He was an Ocean, for whose sake I know,
A dry inuention may with plenty flowe:
He was a well manured fertile field,
Which to a barren wit would haruest yeeld:
He was a Subiect of transcendent size,
Beyond each vulgar pen to Poetize:
And though I know my selfe vnworthy farre,
With my poore Glow-worme Muse, t'attend this Starre:
Yea, though I cannot as I would endite,
Attribute here I offer vp my mite,
Which in his Noble Treasury I throw,
My latest Duty that I can bestow.
And well I hope these lines of m [...]ne shall last,
When as his Tombe by Time shall be de [...]ac'd,
Yea, though I had no hope to hue so long,
To write his Epicedia [...], or Deaths song:
Yet since God so decrees, this Elegie
My duty, loue, and thankes, shall testifie.
How can the World but be in Honour poore,
Since it in losing him, hath lost such store?
Or how can Vertue hope to liue and thriue,
Hee's dead, whose life preserued her aliue,
Religion was his Tutresse, and his Matron,
And vnto her he was a zealous Patron;
Tru [...] Charity belou'd with him did liue,
And (to the poore) his Glory was to giue.
Yet was his bounty from the world so hid;
His right hand know not what his left hand did;
So that his carriage, and his Noble parts,
Iustly deseru'd, and firmely kept mens hearts,
[Page 342]That his true praise great Britaines Bounds did fill,
And no man e're had cause to wish him ill.
His merits (through Heau'ns fauour) did afford,
That Heldernesse had euery mans good word,
For though the world doth vndergoe this curse,
That euery day it waxeth worse and worse:
He had a Noble and a Christian way,
Whereby his life was better'd euery day.
For to his end, eu'n from his dayes of youth,
His time did sade, but goodnesse still had growth,
So as his life did weare, his Vertue grew,
And Grace did daily still more Grace renew.
Hee was no diuing Politician,
Or proiect-seeking Monopolitan.
Hee ne'r prouok'd the silly orphants cryes,
Nor fill'd with teares the woefull widdowes eyes,
But as his Princes fauour he did merit,
Hee vs'd it with such modesty of Spirit,
That though he might almost haue what he would,
Yet in such bounds he his demaunds did hold,
Which Honour and his Conscience did restraine,
That Prince or people neuer could complaine.
So as his life was all good mens content,
His death doth generally make all lament;
Much like a fruitfull piece of land well till'd,
Or as a Box with precious oyntment fill'd,
Eu'n so his Actions and his Conuersation
Pleasd, pleasur'd and much honour'd all our Nation.
And though that Honours doe change mannees much,
Yet sure in him th'effects were neuer such:
Though merit, and the kings benignity,
Did raise him vnto Noble dignity,
Though he in Titles was promoted high,
Yet still his minde retain'd Humility,
That though desert had made his honours more,
His minde was rais'd no higher then before.
Promotion with humility combind
A losty Title, and a lowly minde.
These Vertues are exceeding great and rare,
And not by many men possessed are,
And yet in him these gifts were so apparent,
As if they had beene naturall inherent.
For had he beene with loue of Pride endowd,
He had the means that might haue made him proud.
Hee ne'r esteem'd Court complementing bubbles,
Nor car'd hee for the flattring Knee that doubles:
Hee knew it was Ambitions onely end,
To mount vp higher when it seemes to bend,
And therefore he these frothy toyes did shunne:
(Not fit for men, but Monkeyes to be done)
And in his actions shew'd himselfe to be
Full of plaine, honest, true integrity:
He euery way himselfe did so demeane,
That from his haruest good and bad might gleane
Instructions to direct, and good directions
How to instruct their follies fond affections
No doubt but God did him preordinate,
To be a speciall blessing to the State,
By constellation and Heau'ns Influence,
Mark'd for remarked seruice for his Prince:
For all his youth almost to manly age,
He was to Royall Iames a trusty Page,
When as his conuersation and behauiour,
Gain'd and retain'd his Soueraignes speciall sauour.
In our Redemptions sixteenth hundred yeare,
Then did his seruice happily appeare
Then did he proue himselfe Heau'ns instrument,
His Gracious Masters murther to preuent,
Vpon that day of famous memory,
Of Gowries wracke, and blacke Conspiracy.
That day of note (which ne'r shall be forgot)
That fist of August, 'twas his lucky lot
To kill a brace of Traytors, at the time
When as they were in action of the crime.
For when the younger brother of the twaine,
In murd'rous manner would the king haue slaine:
When nothing could his treachery diuert,
But that he vowd to stabbe his Soueraignes heart,
The Whilst the King and hee with eager will
Were striuing, one to saue, and one to kill,
So long that bustling both 'twixt life and death,
They both were tyr'd and almost out of breath,
The king, (like Daniel in the Lyons Den)
As 'twere by miracle preserued then,
Then Noble Ramsey was by God appointed,
To saue his Soueraigne, and the Leras Ano [...]ted;
For he (by Gods direction) found a way,
Where they were feussting, and without delay,
He strait made Alexander Remthen feele
The force and fury of reuenging steele.
For with three stabs he did the Traytor wound,
And cast him downe the staires (an Act renown'd)
When strait Earle Gowry found his brother slaine,
With two drawn swords ran vp the staires amaine,
Well-knowing of his lifes approaching date,
Infus'd with rage and madnesse desperate,
Laying about him like a demy-Diuell,
With purpose to conclude his last act euill:
With many a furious stroke and ill-meant thrust,
He madly did his best to doe his worst,
Whilst this deceased Lord a Bulwarke stood,
And wounded, Nobly spent his Noble blood,
And with a thrust most fortunate and fierce,
He with his sword the Earles heart through did pierce.
This happy seruice of most high esteeme,
Was but his duty, as himselfe did deeme,
Yea, though it was an action meritorious,
Yet selfe-opinion made him not vaine-glorious,
To arme or sword did he no praise impute,
Nor to his courage stoure and resolute.
But thanking God that had him so directed,
Whereby this worthy seruice was effected,
[Page 343]Attributing all praise and Maiestie
To God that made him meanes of victorie.
Thus he like one of Dauids Worthies then.
Gain'd at one time the loue of God and men:
Of God, for his humility of heart,
Of men, for his good seruice and desert.
Consider you these mournefull lines that read,
Thinke but how much true Noblenesse is dead,
Which hauing pondred well, who can forbeare,
But for his lofle to spend a sigh or teare?
For all that lou'd King Iames, must likewise loue
Him, whose good seruice did so faithfull proue,
Who lou'd his master so, that men might see
That from him long he could not sundred be;
And as he truely on him here attended.
So knowing him to higher state ascended,
To make his loyalty the more appeare,
He left this world, to wait vpon him there.
Each honest Britaine in his losse hath share,
The griefe is vniuersall, and the care
Hath tane possession of both high and low,
Eu'n from the Royall Throne vnto the Plough.
The King hath lost a seruant true and iust,
[...] whom he might reposc especiall trust,
And his companions Peeres haue lost a friend,
Whose vertues very few men could transcend:
His honourable Countesse she hath lost
The comfort where her ioy consisted most:
His Nobles father' in lawes are full of griefe,
And are (in sorrowes) equall with the chiefe:
His worthy honour'd brethren are possest,
With each of them a sad and grieued brest:
And From his seruants, death a Lord hath tane,
Whose like they haue no hope to finde againe.
His kindred all are fill'd with sad laments.
His friends are fraught with woe and discontents,
His friends (say I) alas, he had no foes,
And therefore all are partners in these woes.
I, in particular am now depriu'd
Of him who formerly when he suruiu'd,
Did cause King Iames of his especiall grace,
On me (desertlesse) to bestow a place,
Which makes me in these poore sad lines expresse
My loue, my duty, and my thankefulnesse:
Thus as the waues each other hath in chase,
So is our life in this our mortall race:
Through many changes from natiuity,
We gaine our manhood or maturitie:
And this deare Lord before his Winters age,
At mid-time was abridg'd his Pilgrimage,
Yet to the world it very plaine appeares,
His age was more in goodnesse then in yeeres.
Thus euery one may for his losse complaine,
All losers, onely Heau'n and he did gaine.
His mortall race hee heere so well did runne,
That good report and loue his life hath wonne.
The glorious hoast of Heau'n hath gain'd a spirit,
(Through his firme faith in his Redeemers merit)
And he an earthly Earledome hath forgone,
For true content, and an immortall Throne.
He liu'd the life of Grace whilst he was heere,
And therefore hath the life of Glory there.
He through th'assistance of his Makers might,
Hath fought a good, a valiant, Christian fight,
And now inshrin'd in euerlasting blisse,
He from his house of Clay aduanced is,
His course he ranne so in this vale of strife,
That he hath wonne, and weares a Crowne of life;
Of true eternall happinesse possest,
Whilst we with cares and sorrowes are opprest.
FINIS.

IOHN RAMSEYE Anagramma. HONER'S I AYME, MY HONER'S AYE.

TO VERTVE, and to HONOVR once in Rome,
Two stately Temples there erected was,
Where none might vnto Honours Temple come,
But first through VERTVES Temple they must passe.
Which was an Emblem, and a Document,
That men by vertue must true honour winne,
And that, that HONOVR shall be permanent,
Which onely did from Vertue first beginne.
Thus was this Noble Lords high Honour wonne,
Through Vertue, and by Vertue it increas'd:
And though his mortall Pilgrimage be done,
Yet shall his Honour neuer bee deceast.
And as for him, his Anagrams doe say.
HONER'S I AYME; Therefore MY HONER'S AYE

THE WATER-CORMORANT.

DEDICATED TO GENTLEMEN, AND THOSE THAT ARE GENTLE.

Which nay scene, fearce, or Printers [...] worke when a [...] [...] into the Proffe, yet Cormorant oppresse, and therefore worthy to the prest; but mu Cormorant hath neither [...] his [...] [...] [...]. [...] smooth the fai of the [...] wor stoped his mouth to [...] [...] tuous: I have thought good to sympathze [...] and I haue done my best to handle it in a fatable [...].

The Cormorant is nost castly unduced to ass [...], nor I to stattery. J.s best serunce is harsh and vnsectable, so is my style. His bi­ting is sharpe and percing, so is my phrase. His thro [...] wide and spacious, my subiect is spa [...]ous. His color is blacke, Id sooner deeds of [...]knesse. Hee grabs and spuddles for his prey in muddy holes and obscure cauernes, my Muse ferrus hase debaushed wretches in their swmsh dens. Hee like the Crocodile moues the vpper chap, thus Treatise condemnes that beasts dissmula [...]. Hees swallowes downe his meate without taste, this booke distastes such as sinne without touch of conscience.

The ods is, my Cormorants appetite is limited, but must of theres is vnsatable.

I ayme not at such mens [...] as may fall by msirmty, for that were the Esops crab, to offer to teach others to goe right, going crooked my selfe.

Detraction is priuate wounding of means name, and flattery and a de [...]ourer of men aloue. If I can sayle betwixt these two, and not be spht, I shall arriue at my desired [part.

In my passage I shall have Polipheme casting rockes to sincke me, Criticks misconstrung my words. like spiders sucking poyson out of wholsome flowers.

But from these Antipodes to goodnesse, by their A [...]besis to [...], I appeale to my conference, which it a witnesse to me that can neither accese or condomme me.

Fayme at none but such as de [...]uoure others, and set make thirst to keepe themselues out of thereach of Law, I name none personally, and therefore with the faults, to amend with silence, rather thereby rub­bing off a spot to make a hole in the whole cloth, for I leaue gleanings enough to make a second part if need require. Such stomackes as cannot d [...]gest this doth, [...] me rather de to them a Choake-peare them a Gudgeon.

There is no degree of man or woman, whatsoeuer, from the Court to the Cottage, or from the Pallace to the Plough, but many make good ese of this Poem, either for merry recreation, or vtees defamation: and in a word, if it please the [...] or be any way profitable for the confirming of the good, or refor­ming the bad, I have then my full recompence, with the effect of my intentous and wishes.

IOHN TAYLOR

THE VVATER-CORMORANT HIS COMPLAINT: Against a Brood of Land-CORMORANTS. Diuided into fourteene Satyres.

  • 1 A Iesuite.
  • 2 A Separatist.
  • 3 A Trust-breaker.
  • 4 A Drunkard.
  • 5 A prodigall Gallant.
  • 6 An Extortioner and Broker.
  • 7 A Basket-Iustice.
  • 8 A Cut purse.
  • 9 A good and bad Constable.
  • 10 A Serieant and Iaylor.
  • 11 A Patron and his Clarke.
  • 12 A Countrey Yeoman.
  • 13 A Figure-Stinger.
  • 14 A Lawyer, and Vndershriue.
My Cormorant against these doth inuey,
And proues himselfe much better farre then they.

A Iesuite.

THE ARGVMENT.
King-killing Monsters out of Heauens mouth spew'd,
Caters, and Butchers, vnto Rome and Flell:
The bane of Youth and Age, in blood imbrow'd:
Perditions gulph, where all foule Treasons dwell.
Lands, liues, and Soules vnder the sauing stile
Of IESVS, they deuoure, confound, beguile.
IN setting downe this Sect of blood compact,
Me thinkes I see a tragick Sceane in act:
The Stage all hang'd with the sad death of Kings,
From whose bewailing storie sorrow springs.
The Actors dipt in crueltre and blood,
Yet make bad deeds passe in the name of good.
And kindling new Commotions, they conspire
With their hot Zeale, to set whole Realmes on fire,
As 'twas apparent when they did combine,
Against vs, in their fatall Powder-Mine.
All Hell for that blacke Treason was plow'd vp,
And mischiefe dranke deepe of damnations cup:
The whole vast Ocean sea, no harbour grants
To such deuouring greedy Cormorants,
In the wide gulph of their abhorr'd designes
Are thoughts that find no roome in honest mindes.
And now I speake of Rome euen in her Sea,
The Iesiutes the dang'rous whirle-pooles be,
Religions are made Waues, that rise and fall
Before the wind or breath Poutisicall,
The Pope sends stormes forth, seuers or combines.
According to his mood, it raines or shines;
And who is ready to put all his will
In execution, but the Iesuite still.
Nor hath his Cormorant long tane degree,
For Esacus more ancient is then hee:
Yeares thousands since Troyes sonne he was created,
And from a man but to a Bird translated,
Whereas the Iesuite deriues descent
But from Ignatius Loyala, that went
For a maim'd Spanish souldier, but herein
The difference rises, which hath euer bin:
From Man to Bird, one's changed shape began,
The other to a Diuell from a Man.
Yet here in these wide maw'd Esacians,
May Well agree with these Ignatians,
First black's the colour of the gro [...]dy Fowle,
And black's the Iesuites habite like his soule,
The bird is leane though oft he bee full craw'd,
The Iesuit's hatchet fac'd, and wattle jaw'd,
The Cormorant (as nature best be fits)
Still without chewing doth deucure whole bits,
So Iesuits swallow many a Lordly liuing,
All at a gulp without grace or thankes-giuing.
The birds throat (gaping) without intermission,
Resembles their most cruell Inquisition,
From neither is, Nonest redemptio,
For what into the Corm'rants throat doth goe,
Or Iesuits Barrathrum doth once retaine,
It ne're returnes fit for good vse againe.
Eightie yeares since hee stole the Epithite
From IESVS, to bee call'd a Iesuite.
But I could find him out a style more right,
From Iudas to bee nam'd Iscari [...]e,
[Page 3]Though Paul the third their title did approue,
Yet he confirm'd their number that aboue
Three score they should not be, and yet we see,
How much increased now the vipers be,
T [...]at many a thousand Christian lyes and grones,
Vnder the slau'ry of these diuelish drones,
And he that knowes but truly what they are,
Will iudge a Cormorant' [...] their better farre.

A Separatist.

THE ARGVMENT.
Here earth and hell haue made a false commixion,
Of painted Zeale, and holinesse, and loue:
Of Faith, of Hope, of Charity, (in fiction)
In smoake and shadowes as the fruits doe proue,
Hypocrisie, which long prayers dorb repeate,
D [...]oureth Widowes, and poore Orphans cheate.
NOw enters next to play his Oylie part
A Saiue in tongue, but a rough diuell in heart:
[...] that so smoothly swallowes his prey downe,
Without wrath shewne, or any seeming frowne.
You'd thinke him when he does't, in a Psalme,
Or at his prayers, hee'sfo milde and calme:
No noyse, no trouble to his conscionce cryes,
For he deuoures his prey with heau'd vp eyes.
Stands most demurely swallowing downe his bit,
And lickes his lips with long grace after it.
This Bell-wether (sit reu'rence) leades the slocke,
After his sence grafted in errours stocke,
This reu'rend Barrabas, a Button-maker,
Himselfe with trusty Demas his partaker,
[...]leets with their Brethren, Chore, Abiram, Dathan,
And tear me our Church the Synagogue of Sathan.
Wise Balaanz, Nabal, Esan, Ismael,
Tertullus, Theudas, and Ao [...]itophed,
Phyge [...]us, Himereus, and Philetus,
(A crew of turne-coates that desire to cheat vs)
These fellowes with their ample folio graces,
With mumping chaps, and counterfeited faces,
Though they like shotten herrings are to see,
Yet such tall Souldiers of their teeth they be,
That two of them like greedie Cormorants,
D [...]oures more then fixe honest Protestants.
When priuately a sister and a brother
Doe meet, there's dainty doings with each other:
There's no dulay, they ne're stand shall I shall I,
Hermogenes with Da [...]i [...] doth dally:
And Simei with Saphira will dispute,
That nine moneths after the doth beare the fruite.
When Zimri kissing Iezabel doth greet,
And Cozbi with her brother C [...]am, oh sweet,
'Tis fit to trye (their humors to refresh)
A Combate twixt the spirit and the flesh:
Prouided that they doe it secretly,
So that the wicked not the same [...]py:
These youths deride the Sutplesie, Crosse and Ring.
The knee at Sacrament or any thing
The Church holds Reuerend, and to testifie
Their bastardy, the Fathers they deny.
And of themselues they frame Religions new,
Which Christ and his Apostles neuer knew;
And with vntemper'd morter of their owne,
They build a Church to all good men vnknowne,
Railes at the Harmonious Organs, and the Coape,
Yet in each Church of theirs, they raile a Pope,
Cals it the badge of Antichristian drosse,
When they see butter printed with the Crosse;
And yet for coine they [...]eny man beguile,
For when they tell it, they turne vp the pile,
Vpon the Sabbath, they 'l no Physicke take,
Lest it should worke, and so the Sabbath breake.
They hate to see a Church-man ride (why so)
Because that Christ bad his Apostles goe,
Against our Churches all, they haue exclaimed,
Because by Saints names most of them are nam'd
If these new Saints, no old Saints will abide,
From Christendome they must, or run, or ride.
Saint George from England chases them away,
Saint Andrem doth in Scotland beare like sway:
From Ireland good Saint Patriske them will banisn,
Saint Dennis out of France will make them vanish:
Saint Iames will force them out of spaine to fly,
So will Saint Anthony from Italy,
And last of all (whom I had halfe forgot)
Saint Dany out of Wales will make them trot.
And what vngodly place can harbour then,
These sugitiue vnnaturall Englishmen:
Except that with the Turke or Inside [...],
Or on, or in the Sea, they meane to dwell,
That if in lesser roome they may be cram'd,
And liue and dye at Amfier and be dam'd,
And sure I hold some Romane Catholikes
Much better then these selfe-wild Scilmatickes.
For Papills haue good affability,
And some haue learning, most haue Charity,
Except a Iesuit, whom I thinke a man,
May tearme a right Papistick Puritan.
And for the Sep'ratist l justly call,
A Scismatick Impuritanicass.
B [...]t yet the Iesuit's constant in his mind,
The Scismatick is wauertingly inclin'd.
Besides he thinkes whilst he on earth doth liue,
'Tis charitie to take and not to giue.
There are a sort of men which conscience make.
Of what they say, or doe, or vndertaker:
Who neither will dissamble, sweare, or lye,
Who to good ends their actions all apply,
[Page 4]Who keepe the Sabbath, and relieue the poore,
According to their portions and their store:
And these good people some men doe backbite
And call them Puritanes, in scotne and spight,
But let all know that doe abuse them so,
That for them is reseru'd a fearefull wo;
I loue and reuerence onely beare to such,
And those that here inuectiuely I touch
Are Birds whose Consciences are more vncleane
Then any Cormorant was e're knowne or seene:
He stand toth censure of all honest men,
If they disproue me, Ile ne're write agen.

A Trust-breaker.

THE ARGVMENT.
A Foe to Iustice, a corrupted Friend,
Anou [...]ward Angell, and an inward Fiend;
A hidden Serpent, a most subtile Fox,
A Sugred poyson, in a painted Box:
A Syrens song, assuring to mishap,
A Snzre to Honesty, and Vertuestrap.
THe Rich Trust breaker, vpon whom hell waites
Doth thrust into the Riuer of Estates,
His soule deuouring Beake, and at one prey
Will swallow fourteene Tradesmen in a day:
As many of the Country Lordships slips
Flapdragon like, by his insatiate lips,
The Father sometimes hath beene oft vndone,
By too much trusting his vnnaturall Sonne,
And a Trust-breaker hath a tricke in's pate
To bring a rich Ward to a Beggers state.
For some corrupted men haue got tuition,
Of rich mens Heires, and changed their condition
With false inducements to Recusancy,
Or suffring them through prodigality
To run so farre in debt that all their Lands
Are lost before they come into their hands.
Faire schooles of learning haue bin built fr̄o ground
For Boyes whose fathers were not worth fiue pound;
But false Trust-breakers hold it for no sinne,
To keep our poore mens Sonnes, take rich mens in.
This Breach of Trust is multiplide in time
T' a Catholike and vniuersall crime,
That man to man is growne so much vniust,
That hee's a wise man that knowes who to trust,
But (if therebe such) they doe want much care,
Who trust not in the world, nor trusted are.
Collectorships the Common wealth may lurch,
For Burnings, Highwayes, Bridges, or the Church,
For losse at Sea, for Hospitals and Schooles,
One hundred knaues, may make ten thousand fooles.
Yet these things are so needfull as I wot,
Hee's a base villaine that contributes not,
But hee's a Hell-bound that their Trust deceiues,
And the right due from those that want bereaues [...]
Why, this Trust-breaking hath the exc [...]lent skill
To make a Wise to burne her Husbands Will,
Because his first Wiues Children should not haue
The Portions that within that Will he gaue.
And oftentimes a gasping man for breath,
Distracted with the griping pangs of death,
Hath to a forged will suscrib'd his hand,
And dispossest his owne Sonne of his land.
Trust breakers, may a sencelesse hand to [...]e.
(Though being sixe houres dead) [...]o write a Name,
A rich man's wealth that's dead [...] like vnto, [...] old
And that's because it's neuer truely) told [...]
For like to pitch it hath polluting tricks,
And some vnto the fing'rers fingers sticks.
But of all Rascals since the world began,
The Banckrupt Pollitick's the onely man,
In courteous fashion many hee'lvndo,
And be much pittyed and rewarded too:
For hauing got much wealth into his clawes,
He holds it faster then a Cormorants jawes.
Can hold a silly fish, and at the last,
Himselfe, himselfe will into prison cast,
And hauing broke for thousands, there the hound
Compounds perhaps for ten groates in the pound,
Sets richly vp againe till him he sees,
To breake, to prison againe, againe agrees:
And thus a cunning knaue can with a trice,
Breake, and be whole againe, once, twice or thrice.
These Cormorants are worse then theeues therefore,
And being worse, deserue a hanging more.
A Thiefe speaks what he means and takes your purse
A Banckrupt flattering rob [...] you ten times worse,
The one doth seldome rob ye of all your pelse,
The other leaues you nought to helpe your selfe:
And yet the one for a little the euins may,
At Tiburne make a hanging holyday;
Whilest the great Thiefe may with a golden prop,
To faire Reuenues turne a Pedlers shop.
In this voracity Father stands not free
From his owne Sonne, nor from his vnckle, he
Being made Executor to'th Scates of men,
My Corm'rant is a piddler to him then,
He will by cuning and vexation draw,
Heire, wealth and All, into his rauenous maw,
And when his gorge is full vp to the brim,
Into some loathsome prison vomits him.
There leaues the honour of a house and name,
To be exchang'd for miserie and shame:
Now tell me they that loue faire truth indeed,
If such mawes doe not Corm'rants guts exceed.
And to what place soeuer such resort,
They are the Foule Birds both in Towne and Co [...]

A Drunkard.

THE ARGVMENT.
A madnesse dearely bought with losse of fame:,
Of credit and of manly reputation:
A cursed purchase of disease and shame.
Of death, and a great hazard of Dar [...]uation:
In all that's bad, the diuel's onely Aps,
Worse then a beast, in the best manly saape.
THis fellow with the dropsie growne as big,
And much more beastly then a Sow with pig,
His cheekes like Boreas swolne, he blow'd and puft,
His paunch like to a woolpaok cram'd and stuft:
And by the meanes of what he swil'd and gul'd,
Hee look'd, like one that was three quarters mul'd.
His breath compounded of strong English Beere,
And th'Indian drug would suffer none come neere.
From side to side he staggered as he went,
As if he reeling did the way indent.
Oae skirt of's cloake scarce reacht vnto his waste,
The other dragging in the dirt he trac'd.
His very braines within his head were stew'd,
And look'd so crimson colour'd scarlet hew'd,
As'twere an Ignis faunus, or a comet.
His garments stunke most sweetly of his vomit.
Fac'd with the tap [...]lash of strong Ale and Wine,
Which from his [...]au'ring chaps doth oft decline,
In truth he look'd as red as any coale,
And bellied like vnto a mare with foale:
With hollow eyes, and with the palsie shaking,
And gouty legs with too much liquor taking.
This valiant pot-leach, that vpon his knees
Has drunke a thousand pottles vp se freese,
Such pickled pharses he had got in store,
As were vnknowne vnto the times of yore:
As when he drinkes out all the toall summe,
Gaue it the stile of supernagullnum,
And when he quaffing doth his entrailes wash,
Tis call'd a bunch, a thruft: a whiffe, a slash:
And when earousing makes his wits to faile,
They say he hath a rattl [...] at his taile,
And when his wits are in the wetting shrunke,
You may not say hee's drunke though he be drunke,
For though he be as drunke as any Rat,
He hath but catcht a Foxe; or whist the Cat.
Or some say hee's bewitcht, or scratcht, or blinde.
Which are the fittest termes that I can finde,
Or seene the Lyons, or his nose is dirty,
Or hee's pot shaken, or out two and thirty.
And then strange languages comes in his head,
When he wants English how to goe to bed:
And though t'were fit the swine should in his stye be,
He spewes out latine with probibitibi.
Which is, prouide for Tiburne (as I take it)
Or if it be not, he may chance to make it.
Then Irish Shachatwhorum from him flees,
And halfe dozen welch me Vatawhees:
Vntill hee falls asleepe he skinks and drinkes,
And then like to a Bore he winkes, and stinkes.
This Cormorant in one day swallowes more,
Then my poore Esacus doth in a score.
For mine but once a day doth take his fill,
The drunkard, night and day doth q [...]asfe and swill,
Drinke was ordain'd to length mantainting breath,
And from that liquor, Drunkards draw their death:
Displeasing God, the diuell he onely pleases,
And drinkes with others healths, his owne diseases.
And in the end, contempt and shame's his share,
The whil'st a Tapster is his onely Heire
Thus drinke's a wrastlor that giues many a fall,
To death, to beggery and slauish thrall.
And drunkennesse a wilfull madnesse is,
That throwes men to Hels bottomlesse abisse.
For why, where Drunkennesse is mistris these,
Sobriety can hardly maistry beare:
And 'tis no question but the Land hath down'd,
More men with drinke, then Seas did e're confound.
Wine is Earth's bloud, which from her breast doth spring,
And (well vs'd) is a comfortable thing.
But it abused from it then beginnes,
Most horrible notorious crying sinnes,
As Murther, Lechery, [...]orietie,
Gods wrath, damnation in varietie:
For hoe that is a Drunkard, is the summe,
And abstract of all mischiefes that can come,
It wafts him soule and body, life and limb.
My Cormorant's a sober beast to him.
He that perswades a man to steale or lye,
To sweare, or to commit adultery,
To stab or murther any man that liues,
Can it be said that hee good counsell giues?
And hee that tempts and forces men to drinke,
Perswades a man to damne himselfe, I thinke,
For drunken men haue into dangers run,
Which (being sober) they would ne're haue done.
I take them for no friends that giue me Wine,
To turne me from a man vnto a swine,
To make me void of manners, sense, or reason,
To abuse God, blaspheming odious treason,
To hurt my soule and body, fame and purse,
To get the diuell, and gaine Gods heauy curse.
Though many take such for their friends to bee,
I wish them hang'd that are such Friends to mee:
For greater enemies there cannot dwell
In the whole world, nor in the bounds of hell.
Good friendly drinking I account not euill,
But much carousing, which makes man a diuell,
Wanting the priuiledge that bath a horse,
And to be vrg'd and fore'd to drinke perforce.
[Page 4] [...] [Page 5] [...] [Page 6]For why a horse this gouernment hath still,
Drinkes what he will, and not against his will,
And he that that good rule doth ouer-passe,
Hath lesse discretion then a Horse or Asse,
And any [...]man that doth this temp'rance want,
Is a worse gluttoa then my Cormorant.

A prodigall Country Gallant, and his new made Maddam.

THE ARGVMENT.
Taylors fooles, Times bables, and prides Apes,
That as a Squirrell skips from tree to tree:
So they like Porteus leape from shapes to shapes,
Like foule swords in gi [...]t scabberds, be and she
Their carkasse pampers, goergeously bedect,
Whil'st their poore starued soules they both neglect.
NOw steps my young gull-gallant into play,
Who (born to land) [...]th country scornes to stay,
To liue by wit (thankes Sire) he hath no need,
And if he should be hang'd can scarcely reade.
Drabs, dice, and drinke are all his onely ioyes,
His pockets, and his spurs his gingling boyes,
A squirrels tayle hangs dangling at his eare,
A badge which many a gull is knowne to weare,
His eyes rod-blood-shot, arguing a sod braine,
His dam-him voice set to the roaring straine:
His nose will inlaid with rich jemmes about,
As from a watch Towre, their heads peeping out,
Attended fitly, (fitting for the age)
With two shagg'd Russians and a pyde-coat Page,
Who breares his boxe, and his Tobacco fils,
With stopper, tongs, and other vtensils.
This Fop, late buried er'e he came vp hither,
Hit thrist and's Father in one graue together,
His Country stocke he sold, for that's the fashion,
And to a Farmer gaue it new translation:
His Fathers seruants he thrust out of doore,
Allowes his mother but a pension poore:
Salutes you with an oath at euery word,
Sirha or slaue he liberall doth affoord.
His Father (a good house-keeper) being dead,
He scornes his honest blocke should fit his head:
And through he be not skill'd in Magick Art,
Yet to a Coach he turn'd his Fathers Cart,
Foure Teames of Horses, to foure Flanders Mares,
With which to London he in pomp repaires,
Woo's a she Gallant, and to Wife he takes her:
Then buyes a kinghthood, and a maddam makes her.
And yearly they vpon their backes are weare,
That which oft fed fiue hundred with good cheere.
Whil'st in the Country all good bounty's spilt
His house, as if a Iugler it had built,
For all the Chimneyes where great fires were made,
The smoake at one hole onely is conuey'd:
No times obseru'd nor charitable Lawes,
The poore receiue their answer from the Dawes,
Who in their caying language call it plaine
Mockbegger Manour, for they came in vaine.
They that dewoure what Charitie should giue
Are both at London, there the Cormorants liue,
But so transform'd of late doe what you oan,
You'l hardly know the woman from the man:
There Sir Tim Twirlepipe and his lady gay,
Doe pordigally spend the time away;
Being both exceeding proud, and scornefull too,
And any thing but what is good they'l do:
For Incubus and Succubus haue got
A crew of fiends which the old world knew not;
That if our Grand-fathers and Grand-dams should
Rise from the dead, and these mad times behold.
Amazed they halfe madly would admire,
At our fantasticke gestures and attire;
And they would thinke that England in conclusion,
Were a meere bable Babell of confusion.
That Muld [...] sack for his most vnfashion'd fashions,
Is the fit patterne of their transformations:
And Mary Frith doth teach them modesty,
For she doth keepe one fashion constantly,
And therefore she deserues a Matron [...] praise,
In these inconstant Moone-like changing dayes,
A witlesse Asse (to please his wiues desire)
Payes for the sewell, for her prides hot fire:
And he and she will wast, consume, and spoyle:
To feed the stinking lamp of pride with oyle:
When with a sword, he gat a knightly name,
With the same blow, his Lady was strucke lame,
For if you marke it she no ground doth tread,
(Since the blow fell) except that she be led:
And Charity is since that time (some say)
In a Carts younger brother borne away.
These are the Cormorants that haue the power
To swallow a Realme, and last themselues deuoare:
And let their gaudy friends thinke what they will,
My Cormorant shall be their better still.

An Extortioner and a Broaker.

THE ARGVMENT.
Friends to but few, and to their owne soules worst,
With Aspish poyson poysoning men at first,
Who laughing languish, neuer thinke on death,
Vntill these Wolues (with biting) stop their breathy [...]
The diued and they at no time can be sunder'd,
And all their trade is forty in the hundred.
ROome for two hounds well coupl'd, & 'tis pi [...]y
To part them they do keep such ra [...]ck [...]'th cit [...]
[Page 7]Th' Extortioner is such a fiend that he
Doth make the Vsu [...]er a Saint to be,
One for a hundreds vse doth take but ten,
Th'other for ten a hundred takes agen:
The one mongst Christians is well tollerated,
Tother's of heauen and earth a [...]ort'd and heated,
The one doth often helpe a man distrest,
The other addes oppression to th'opprest.
By paying vse a man may thriue and get,
But by extortion neuer none could yet.
Though vsury be bad, ('tis vnderstood,
Compared with extortion) it seemses good.
One by retaile, and th' other by the great,
Lagr [...]se the prosi [...]s of the whole worlds sweat,
That man is happy that hath meat and cloth,
And stands in need of neither of them both.
Extortioners are Monsters in ail Nations,
All their Conditions turne to obligations,
Waxe is their shot, and writing pens their Guns,
Their powder is the Inke that from them runs.
And this dank powder hath blowne vp more men
In one yeare, then gun powder hath in ten.
Bils are their weapons, parchments are their shields,
With w eh they win whole Lordships, towns & fields
And for they know in heauen they ne're shall dwell,
They ing [...]ose the earth before they come to hell.
Yet all their liues here they with cares are vext,
Slaues in this world, and Hell-hounds in the next.
And what they o're the diuels backe did win,
Their heyrres beneath his belly wast in sinne.
The Broaker is the better senting Hound,
He hunts and scouts till he his prey hath found,
The gallant which I mention'd late before,
Turning old Hospitality out of doore,
And hauing swallowed Tenants and their crops,
Comming to towne, he crams Extortions chops [...]
Craft there, may here againe be set to Schoole,
A Country Knaue oft prooues a City Foole.
He that a Dogs part playes when he is there,
A Wolfe deuoures him when he comes vp here:
The silly swaine the racking Landlord worries,
But swaine and Landlord both extortion curries.
First thing is done, the Broaker smels him forth,
Hants all his haunts, enquires into his worth:
Sen [...]s out his present wants, and then applies,
R [...]nk payson to his wounds for remedies.
Instead of licking, hee's a biting whelpe,
And rancles most, when he most seemes to helpe,
And he hunts dry foot; neuer spends his throat
Till he has caught his game, and then his note
Lult him asleepe fast in Extortions bands
There leaues him, takes his fee o'th goods and lands.
And as he is the Common-wealths deceiuer,
So for the most part, hee's the theeues receiuer.
Hangs vp the hangmans wardrop at his doore,
Which by the hang-man hath beene hang'd before.
A s [...]sh-wife, with a pawne, doth money secke,
He [...] two pence takes for twelue pence e [...] weeke
Which makes me aske my selfe a question
And to my selfe I answer make againe:
Was Hen [...]d [...]d [...]ch [...] [...]tch [...]
Before the B [...]oskers in [...] street [...]
No sure it was not it hath got that name
From them, and [...] that c [...]me they thither came:
And well it now may called be H [...]ds [...]itch,
For there are H [...]n [...]ds will g [...]ue a vengeance [...]wich.
These are the Gulphes that swallow all by lending.
Like my old shooes, quite pa [...] all hope of [...]pending:
I'de throw my Cormoran [...] deid into the pooles.
If they cramm'd sish so fa [...] as these eate fooles.

A Basket-Iustice.

THE ARGVMENT.
The best of men, when tr [...]ly exercis'd [...]
The actor may a Saint be cono [...]'d:
No Policy, but practise Iustice [...]ra [...]es,
Those whom br [...]bes [...] ha [...]e [...] names:
Of what they should be, thus the La [...]du
When judgements just flow from the Iudges brest.
BEfore the noyse of these two Hounds did ceasa,
A Iustice (comming by) commanded peace:
Peace Curres (q [...]. he) and learne to take your prey
And not a word, so wise folkes goe your way:
This is youth that sued his p'ac [...] to haue,
Bought his authority to play the knaue.
And as for coine he did his place obtaine,
So hee'l sell iustie to mak't vpagaine,
For the old prouerbe [...]its his humor well,
That he that dearely buyes must dearely sell.
The sword of Iustice draw he stoutly can,
To guard a knaue, and grieue an honest man,
His clarke's the Beethat fils his combe with honey,
He hath the wit, his master hath the money.
Such Iusticer as this (if men doe marke)
It altogether guided by his Clarke.
He's the vice Iustice, he workes all by's wits,
The whil'st his master pickes his teeth or spits,
Walks, hums, and nods, cals knaue at euery turne,
(As if he in a dawes nest had beene borne:)
No other language from his worship [...]ees,
But prisons, Warrants, Mittimus, and [...]ees:
Commit before he search out the often [...]s,
And heare the matter after two dayes hence,
Talkes of Recognizances, and hath scope,
To binde and loose as if he were the Pope.
Be the ease ne're so good, yet build vpon't,
Fees must be payd, for that's the humor on'r.
[Page 8]And thus with onely cursed wealth and beard,
He makes a world of witlesse fooles afeard.
And when he giues them but a smile or nod,
They thinke this doughty else a demy-god.
When fortune fals he knowes to vse the same,
His Clarke and he as quiet as a Lambe,
Make not two words, but share, & go through stich,
Here's mine, there's thine, for they know which is which.
There hath beene, are, and will be still agen,
In all professions some corrupted men:
Before this branch of false Gebezaes Tribe,
'Tis sacriledge to call a bribe a bribe,
Giue him a Bucke, a Pig, a Goose, or Phesant,
(For manners sake) it must be call'd a present,
And when hee's blind in Iustice,'tis a doubt
But Turkies tallons scratcht his eyes halfe out,
Or Capons clawes, but 'tis a heauy case,
That fowles should flye so in a Iustice face.
Sometimes his eyes are goard with an Oxehorne,
Or suddaine dasht out with a sacke of corne,
Or the whiske burshing of a Coachmares taile
To fit the Coach, but all these thoughts may faile,
Some thinke they are but clouded and will shine,
Eclips'd a little with a Teirce of Wine,
Or onely falne into some hood wink'd nap.
As some men may vpon the Bench, by hap.
But Iustice seemes dease when some tales are told,
Perhaps his Charity hath tane some cold,
And that may be the cause, or rattling Coaching,
Or neighing of horses to her gate approaching,
From thence into the stable, as her owne:
The certaine truth thereof is not yet knowne.
But sure she is so dease that she can heare,
Nothing but what her Clarke blowes in her care,
Which Clark, good men must oroach to, & stand bare
Or else small Iustice 'mongst them they shall share,
His Master like a weather-cocke inclinde,
As he doth please he makes him turne and winde.
This Iustice of all sences is bereft,
Except his feeling, onely feelings left:
With which he swallowes with infariate power,
More bribes then doth my Cormorant fish deuoure.

A Cutpurse.

THE ARGVMENT.
This is a mad knaue, liues by trickes and sleights.
He diues by La [...]d, and dies within the ayre:
He serues noman, yet courteously he waites
On whom he lift, in Church, towne, throng or faire.
He will not worke, yet is well cleath'd and fed,
And for his farewell seldoms dies in's bed.
THis Spirit, or this Ferrit next that enters
(Although he be no Merchant) much he ventures.
And though he be a noted coward, yet
Most valiantly he doth his liuing get.
He hath no weapon but a curtoll knife.
Wherewith for what he hath he hazards life,
East Indian Merchants crosse the raging floods,
And in their ventering, venter but their goods:
When as themselues at hope securely sleepe,
And neuer plow the dangerous Ocean deepe,
If they doe lose by pirates, tempests, tocks,
'Tis but a Fleabite to their wealthy stockes:
Whilst the poore Cutpurse days and night doth [...]oile,
Watches and wardes, and doth himselfe turmoile [...]
Oft cuts a purse before the Sessions barre,
Whilst others for their liues a pleading are,
To Sturbridge Faire, or vnto Bristoll ambles
In ieopardie he for his liuing rambles,
And what he gets he doth not beg or borrow,
Ventures his necke, and there's an end, hang sorrow.
Whilst midst his perils he doth drinke and sing,
And hath more purse-bearers then any King,
Liues like a Gentleman by sleight of hand,
Can play the Foist, the Nip, the Stale, the Stand,
The Snap, the Curb, the Crosbue, Warpe and Lif [...],
Decor, prig, Cheat, (all for a hanging shift.)
Still valiant where he comes, and free from care,
And dares the stockes, the whip, the Iaile out-dare.
Speak [...]the braue [...] with his del,
Or pa [...], or [...] [...] [...] [...]
And liues as merry as the day is long,
In scorne of Tyburne, or the ropes dingdong,
But now a iest or two to minde I call,
Which to this function lately did befall:
A Cutpurse standing in a market-towne,
As for his prey his eyes seowld vp and downe,
At last he should [...]r [...] neare a Country Lasse,
And out her purse as by her he did passe.
Shee spide and caught him and began to raue,
Call'd him rogue, rascall, villkeyne, thiefe and slaue,
Gep with a pox, the Cutpurse then replide,
Are you so fine, you can no i [...]sting bide,
I'ue iested more with forty honest men,
So with a moraine take your purse agen.
Another sattin Cutpurse dawbd with lace,
A Country Gentlemen for's purse did chase,
On whom a blew-coat Seruing man did wait,
And passing through a narrow obscure strait,
The thieuing knaue the purse he nimbly nims,
And like aland-sharke thence by Land he swims.
The Seruing man perceiu'd the Cutpurse tricke,
Said nought, but dogges him through thin and thick,
Vntill the thiese suppos'd the coast was cleare,
As he was pissing Blew- coat out offs care.
The Cutpurse madly gins to sweare and curse,
The other said, giue me my masters purse,
Which you stole lately from his pocket, then
There's no wrong done, but here's your eare [...]gen,
[Page 9]Thus though a Cutpurse trade be counted ill,
[...]he is a m [...]n of action still,
Wai [...]es on Ambassadors that comes and goes,
Attends at Tiltings and tryumphant showes
As Westminster he still attendance giues,
O [...] my Lord Maior, his brethren and th [...] Shrieues,
Although vnbidden, yet hee'l be a guest,
And haue his hand in sometimes with the best.
And whilst he liues, note how he takes degree,
Newgate's his hall, at Tyburne he's made tree:
Where commonly it so falls out with him,
He dyes in perfect health, found winde and limbe,
Hema Coaches elder brother rides,
And when his soule and cordes from each diuides,
He soules no sheets nor any Physicke takes,
[...] like a Bird in th'ayre an end he makes:
And such an end I wish they all may haue,
And all that loue a shifting Cut purse knaue,
For they are Cormorants wherefoere they haunt,
Vntill the Gallowes proues their Cormorant.

A Good and a bad Constable.

THE ARGVMENT.
This man is to the Magistrate an eye,
Reuealing things which Iustice could not finde.
Blacke deeds of darkenesse he deth oft desery,
And is (if he be honestly inclinde)
Sof [...]t the Common. wealth in peace to keepe,
By watching carefully whil'st thousands sleepe.
VVHē Titan steeps his bright resplēdant beams
And hides his burning Car i'th Westerne streams;
Whē to y e vnder world day takes his flight
And leaues th'Horizon all in darknesse dight,
When Philomell doth 'gainst a thorne proclaime
I [...] dulcet notes the lustfull Tere [...]s shame,
When Maddam Midnight shewes her Ebon face,
And darkenesse doth the Hemisphere embrace,
T [...]en (to keep [...] all things peaceable and well,
The watchfull Constable keepes continell.
Then if a man (with drinks) his wit hath left,
Or hath committed leachery or these,
Or murder, then the Constable thinkes fit
That such committers straitly he commit.
Hee's Lord high Regent of the redious night,
Man of the Moo [...]e he may be called right:
Great generall of Glewo [...]m, Owles, and Bats,
Comptroler ouer such a whip the Cats.
Dian [...]ts Forrester that with regard,
Doth guard the Heard that liues within his ward,
His vigilancy is most manifest,
For through his hornes he lightens all the rest.
Like Mino [...], or iust iudging [...]
He walkes the dukesome [...]
Attended with his G blans clad in [...]
[...]
V [...] [...] sh [...]wes her blu [...] [...]
And [...] doth shine, and [...]
Ma [...]ge [...] whooting [...] [...] [...]
Then goes the Constable and's watch to [...]ed.
Tais officer in the [...] place [...] put,
H [...] that comes next is of another [...]
Yet he's a member of the peace com [...],
And writ most common [...] an a [...]e in [...]
Image of office he is held to be
And has his staff [...]ipt [...] [...] [...]
He has his bill men which [...] hardly kerpe
The name of watchmen for [...] [...] asleepe.
His word is, Who goes: there? [...] [...] [...]S
[...] stand still, and com [...]
[...]
Sayes a man's drunke, when his [...] case is so.
But let a quar'ling slaue indeed goe by.
Leading by th [...]arme his ramp [...] v [...]n [...]y.
A thing of filthy [...], like a sw [...]n [...],
That searce can goe, laden with [...] and [...],
They for their sixpence shall pa [...] by in state,
The porter with a leg will ope the gate,
Worship'd and guarded to their lodging safe,
Not with B [...]ls onely, bu [...]th os [...]ous staffe,
Whil'st the good sober man, that nothing gaue,
Is strait committed for a dangerous knaue,
Traytor to th' State, and in the lay le must lye,
Whil'st th'other's lighted to their l [...]chery.
This Constable may haue a trick in store,
His house may be safe harbour for a whore,
Because no man will offer to search there.
She there may rest, and roost secure from feare.
There she may lodge, and trade too if she will,
As sure and safe as theeues are in a Mill,
Or Suburbs for the birth of Basta [...]ds are,
For all desire to lay their bellies there,
Nay as a Compter for a Fellon's home,
Or Ladies chamber for a Priest from Rome.
But yet I say, 'tis po [...] a matter hard,
To finde an honest Constable in's ward,
Trust for bid else, and waking watchmen to,
Whose bils were neuer stolne, and much adoe
To be corrupted with a villaines sh [...]alling,
To wrong the good, and bad mens minds fulfilling,
Such men as those I thinke some few there be,
And for the rest, would thay were hang'd for me.
H [...] when my Corm [...]ant is at rest, and thinkes,
Poore fish no harme nor ought that water drinkers,
That's a night Cormrant, and at midnight swils,
Whole cans and pots, with Cheaters and there Iils,
He makes all fish that comes into his net,
Drinks drunke, and sleeps, and then the watch is set.

A London Serieant and Taylor.

THE ARGVMENT.
A brace of Hell hounds that [...] earth d [...]e dwell,
This tyr [...]ize on p [...]ore mens b [...]dies more.
(If mo [...]e they could, then diuels o're soules in bell:
Whose musicke in the groanings of the poore.
These when they buy their office, sell their soules,
No Cormorants are such denouring fowles.
THe Seriea [...]t I before the Iaylor name,
Because he is the dog that hunts the game:
He worries it, and brings it to the toyle.
And then the Iaylor liues vpon the spoyle.
I'ue knowne a Serieant that foure houres hath sate,
Peeping and leeting through a tauerne geate,
His Yeoman on the other side the way,
Keeping the like match bo [...] for one poore prey:
Who when they sp [...]d, like Mas [...]ff; they come neere him
And by the throat like cruell c [...]rs they teare him;
If he hath money to the Tauerne straight,
These sucking purse, leaches will on him wait;
But if his stocke below, and's pockets dry,
To th'layle with him, there let him starue and dye.
Yet for all this a Serieant is deuout,
For he doth Watch and prey much out of doubt.
He sels no spice, and yet in euery place
He's shalfe Groce [...], for he liues by's mace:
He's part a Gentleman, for vp and downe,
Their steps he followes round about the towne.
And yet he seemes a Iugler too by this,
He oft from shape to shape so changed is:
As sometimes like an Amsterdammian brother,
Sometimes a Porters shape, sometimes another.
Sometimes t'a Counseilour at law, and then,
T'a lame and blinded begger, and agen
T'a Country Seruingman that brings a Deere,
And with these trickes his prey he doth come neere,
Wherein he imirates the Diuell aright,
Who can put on an Angels thape of light,
That so his craft may on mens soules preuaile.
So Serieants snare mens bodies for the Iaile,
Time was, he wore a proper kind of coat,
And in his hand a white rod as a note
Whereby a man farre off a knaue might spy,
And shun him if he were in jeopardy.
But now to no such [...]abit he is bound,
Because his place ne're cost him eight scorc pound,
To get the which againe, he must disguise
And vse a thousand shifts and villanies.
Oh that a man so little grace should haue
To giue so much to be i [...]eem'd a knaue.
To be shau'd. duck'd, and vnpittyed dye,
Curst and contemn'd within his guaue to [...]e.
To hazard soule and body, ne've to thri [...]e,
But by mens harmes, deuo [...]ring them aliue,
To be the hang-mans guard, and wait vpon
The Gallowes a [...]zn Execution,
But yet the office is most fit led ot [...],
And fit that honest men should haue it f [...]
Now for the other sucking diuell, the Iaylor
His work's brought to him, as he were a Taylor,
As if he were a [...]encer, he'll begin,
And aske a man what Ward he will be in:
(But first the prisoner drawes without delay,
A sop for Cerberus that turnes the key.)
Then the old prisoners garnish doe demand,
Which straight must be discharged out of hand,
But if he cannot pay, or doth deny,
He thrusts him in the hole, there lets him lye.
If a good prisoner hath a well linde purse,
The Iaylor then esteemes him as his nurse,
Suckes like a Bulcaise, and doth neuer cease
Till with much griefe he heares of a release.
An vnder-keeper, (though without [...])
Is s continuali knaue in spight on's heart:
If to the prisoners he be sharpe and curell,
He proues their knaue, and his good masters Iewell [...]
If vnto them himselfe he will behaue,
He is their Iewell, and his masters knaue,
So let him turne himselfe which way he can,
He seldome shall be held and honest man.
Perhaps the Iaylor in one s [...]rinking roome
Hath sixe beds, for the Gallant and the Groome,
In lowsie linnen, ragged couerlets:
Twelue men to lodge in those sixe beds he sets:
For which each man doth pay a groat a night,
Which weekely's eight and twenty shillings right:
Thus one foule dirty roome from men vnwilling,
Draws yearely seauenty three pound six. ecn shilling,
Besides a Iaylor (to keepe men in feare)
Will like a demi.diuill dominere:
Roare like a Bearward, grumble, snarle, and growle,
Like a Towre Cat.a Mountaine stare and s [...]owl [...],
He and she serieant may be coupled too,
As bane of Mankind, for they both vndoe:
Th' Extortioner and Broaker nam'd before,
Hauing both bit and grip'd a mans state fore:
In comes the Serieant for his breakfast then,
Drags him to th'layle, to be new squeezd agen:
And thence he gets not, there he shall not start,
Till the last drop of bloud's wrong from his heart,
Yet I haue heard some Serieants haue beene mild,
And vs'd their Prisoner like a Christians child;
Nip'd him in priuate, neuer trig'd his way,
As B [...]ndogs earrion, but faire went away,
Follow'd aloofe, shew'd himselfe kind and meeke,
And lodg'd him in his owne house for a weeke.
[Page 11]You'd wonder at such kin in [...]ff [...] in a man,
So many Regions from a Christian,
[...] what's the cause, Ile lead you out o'th m [...],
Tis twenty shillings euery day he slayes,
Besides the Serieants wife must haue a stroke,
At the poore teate, some outside she must foake,
Although she tridge for't, whil'st good fortunes fall,
He shall command house, serieant, and all,
[...] may it come by th' side o'th breeding woman,
The Serianes Son's a Gentleman, no Yeoman.
And Whil'st they fish from mens decayes and wants,
Their wiues may proue foule fleshly Cormorants
T [...]s a bad serieant and a Iaylor both,
[...] Cormorants which all good people loath,
And yet amongst them some good men there are,
Like s [...]ow at Midsommer, exceeding rare.

A Symonicall Patron, and his penny Clarke,

THE ARGVMENT.
Here Magus seeketh holy things to buy,
With cursed bribes and base corrupting gold:
Lets soules for want of Preaching starue and dye,
Fleres and slayes his flockes, bare pill'd and pold:
That to speake truth, in spight of who controls,
Such Clarkes and Patron murther many soules.
THis is the bane both of the age and men,
A Patron with his benesices ten;
That wallowes in fat Liuings a Church, leach,
And cannot keepe out of my Corm'rants reach,
One of these Patrons doth deuoure his Clarks,
As they doe perish Soules, after foure Markes,
And euery yeare a paire of new high shooes,
For which betwixt two Churches he doth vse
Each Sabbath day with diligence to trot,
[...]t to what purpose, few or none know not.
Except it be'cause would hee eate and feed,
[...] starue two Cures, for he can hardly reade.
This Sir Iohn Lacklatine, true course doth keepe:
To preach the Vestry men all fast asleepe,
And boxe and cuffe a Pulpit mightily.
Speaking non-sence with nose-wise grauity,
These youths, in Art, purse, and acire most bare
Giue their attendance [...] sleepe faire;
King once hir'd he'l [...]ase his Lord,
His surly Patron, nor dares pie [...]ch a word,
B [...] where he giues the text, and that must be
Some place of Scripture bites no vsury,
Exortion or the like, but some calme Law,
That will not sret his sore b [...]t nere so raw.
As calmely preac [...]'d, as lamely too express't,
With clamarous yell that likes the Parish best.
This Clarke shall be a drudge too, all his time,
We [...]s in the garden, bearesou [...] d [...]ng and s [...]me:
Then vp [...] Sabbath dayes the [...]e [...]oy [...]e beginnes
[...] vnhallow [...]d hands, to weed vp sinnes:
And from cap [...]ing all [...]is weeke dayes spent,
Comes then to giue the Cup at Sac [...]ament.
And [...]rom his trencher waiting goes [...]o serue
Spirituall food to those that almost statue;
And what's this Clarke that's of such seru [...]e minde,
Some smarting Peda [...], or mechanicke hinde,
Who taking an intelligenc [...]rs place,
Against poore tenants sust crept into grace,
And drudges for eight pounds a yeare perhaps,
With his great vailes of sundayes trencher scraps.
This makes the scared [...]be of [...] glad,
That many of them proue the Tribe of G [...]d.
This makes good Schollers iustly to complaine,
When Patrons take they care not who for gaine,
When as a Carter shall more wages haue,
Then a good Preacher that help [...]s Soules to saue.
These Cormorants Gods part doth eate and cram,
And to they fare well, care not who they damne,
The people scarce know what a Sermon meanes,
For a good Preacher there can haue no meanes,
To keepe himselfe with [...]athe [...], and book, & bread
Nor scarce a pillow t'vnderlay his head.
The whil'st the Patrons wife (my Lady Gay)
Fares, and is deckt most dainty euery day:
Shee'l see that preaching trouble not the [...]owne,
And weares a hundred Sermons in a Gowne.
She hath a Preachers liuing on her backe,
For which the soules of many goes to wracke,
And hires a mungrell cheaply by the yeare,
To famish those, christs bloud hath bought so deare:
What greater cruelty can this exceed,
Then to pine those whom I [...] bids them feed,
These are hels cultures, Tophets greedy [...]owles,
That proue (like diuels) Cormorants of Soules.

A Country Yeoman.

THE ARGVMENT.
Here Dauy Dicker comes, God speed the Plough,
Whose Sonne's a Gentleman, and h [...] and hawkes:
His Farme good cloathes and Seeding [...] allow,
And what so [...]re of him the Country talkes,
His [...]me's in [...] with feather in his head,
Vntill a Begger bring a Foole to bed.
THe Romane Histories doe true relate,
How [...] chang'd his Emp'rors state,
To liue in quiet in a Country Farme,
Out of the reach of treasons dangerous arme.
[Page 12]Then was a Farmer like a lab'ring Art,
And not a [...] deuouring Cormorant.
For if a Gentleman hath Lard to let,
He'l haue it, at what price so'ere 'tis set,
And bids, and ouer bids, and will giue more.
Then any man could make of it before:
Offers the Landlord more then he would craue,
And buyes it, though he neither get nor saue.
And whereas Gentleman their Land would let,
At rates that tenants might both saue and get,
This Cormorant will giue his Landlord more,
Then he would aske, in hope that from the poore
He may extort it double by the rate,
Which he will sell his corne and cattle at.
At pining famine he will ne're repine.
'Tis plenty makes this Cormorant to whine,
To hoard vp corne with many a bitter ban,
From windowes, Orphanes, and the lab'ring man,
He prayes for raine in ha [...]uest, night and day,
To rot and to consume the graine and hay:
That so his mowes and reeks, and stacks that mould,
At his owne price he may translate to gold.
But if a plenty come, this rauening thiefe
Torments & sometimes hangs himselfe with griefe.
An all this raking toyle, and carke and care,
Is for his elownish first borne Sonne and heyre,
Who must be gentled by his ill got pelfe,
Though he to get it, got the diuell himselfe,
And whil'st the Fathers bones a rotting lye,
His Sonne his cursed wealth, accurst lets slye,
In whores, drinke, gaming, and in reuell coyle,
The whil'st his fathers Soule in flames doth broyle.
And when the Father on the earth did liue,
To his Sonnes fancie he such way did giue,
For at no season he the plow must hold,
The summer was too hot, the winter cold,
He robs his mother of her Butter pence,
Within the Alehouse serues him for expence.
And so like Coles.dog the vntutor'd mome,
Must neither goe to Church nor bide at Lome.
For he his life another way must farme,
To Hauke, to hunt, abusing the Kings game,
Some Nobleman or Gentleman that's neere,
At a cheape rate to steale what they call deere.
When if a poore man (his great want to serue)
Whose wife and children ready are to starue,
If he but steale a sheepe from out the fold,
The chuffe would hang him for it if he could.
For almes he neuer read the word releeue,
He knowes to get, but neuer knowes to giue,
And what so'ere he be that doth liue thus,
Is a worse Cormorant then my AEsacus.

A Figure-stinger, or a cot [...]z'ning Cunning-man.

THE ARGVMENT.
Amongst a foolish, faithlesse, gracelesse, crew,
This man hath better credit then Gods word:
For lesse that's past, or profit to ensue,
Like is a Tearme, with Customers he's stor'd,
Hee's a Soothsayer, but sayth seldome sooth,
And hath the 'Diuels great seale for what he doth.
HEre [...]ow I draw a curtaine and discouer,
Amongst all knaues, the diuels speciall louer:
One that doth Court him still, and daily woe,
And faine would see the diuell but knowes not how
He has [...] in his workes, that's his fare place,
But has not art to bring him to his face,
When he could wish him to his outward sense,
The diuell sits laug [...]ing in his conscience:
Yet you shall haue this figure stinger prate,
To his gull client (small wit shallow pate,)
As if he were Lord warden of hell fire,
And Lucifer and he had both one sire.
The Fiends his couzen Germanes (once remou'd)
From earth to hell, where he is best belou'd.
More fustian language form his tongue doth drop,
Then would set sorth an honest tradesmans shop:
As if that all Magitians that e're were,
Vnworthy were his learrel bookes to beare.
Nor Zorostres king o'th Bactrians,
Nor the sage Magi of the Persian [...],
Nor any coniuring Sonne of Cham or Chus;
Nor Faustus with his Mephostophilus,
Corneli [...]s, Agrippa, Simon Magus,
Nor any twixt the Riuer Thames or Tagus,
Nor B [...]itaines Bladud, Cambriaes Merlin Ba [...]n
Companions for this man would ne're be taken.
For he is rare, and deeply read indeed,
In the admit'd [...]ight reuerend old wiues Creed,
Talkes of the Iewish Thalmud, and Cabals,
Sols [...]itiums and Equinoctials,
Of auguries, of prophesies predictions,
Prognostications, reuelations, sictions.
And as he could the Elements command,
He seemes as he their minds doth vnderstand.
By Fire he hath the skill of Pyromanty,
By Ayre he hath the Art of Heremanty,
By Water he knowes much in Hidromanty,
And by the Earth hee's skill'd in G [...]omanty,
Palme Chiromanty, couz'ning Necromancy,
To gull the world, to fulfill fooles fancie,
Hags, ghosts, and goblius, furies, fairies, elues,
He knowes the secrets of the diuels themselues.
[Page 13]There's not a Nimph, a fawne, or goat foot Satyre,
Th [...] lives by Fire, by Aire, by Earth, or Water,
S [...] D [...]d [...]s or Hamadriades,
Bewixt S [...]y [...]entrio and Meridies,
[...] he commands them to doe what they list,
[...]but bend the brow, or clutch the fist.
He'le tell a mans hearts secrets what he thinkes,
[...]Ordipus vnfolds th'ambiguous Sphin [...],
With skill surpassing great Alfumazers,
He with intelligencing Funds confers,
And by his wondrous Artacoosticon,
[...]wes the Turkes Counsell, and what Prefer Iowns
Determines, or what businesse now befals
[...]the Conclaue of Romes Cardinals,
He can release, or else increase all harmes,
About the necke or wrests by tying charmes,
He hath a tricke to kill the Agues force,
And make the patient better, or much worse,
To the great toe, three letters he can tye,
Shall make the Gowt to tarry or else flye.
With two words and three leaues of foure-leau'd grasse
He makes the tooth-ach, stay, repasse, or passe:
[...] goods you againe would faine haue got,
[...]but to him, and you shall speed, or not.
[...] he will gaine whether you get or lose,
[...]haue his Fee, for so the bargaine goes:
He' [...] tell you wonders when you are alone,
[...]Of the Philosophers admired stone:
And that it from Vtopia first did come,
Brought to him by a Spirit, he sent to Rome,
Where by (t'inrich the world hee dares be bold)
To [...]ns pans, pots, and dripping pans to gold,
And in the Goldsmith's burnisht glistring row,
[...] Ironmongers with a fairer show,
[...] Spits and Andir'ns to bright mettle shining,
[...] when coine's scarce you straight may put to coi­ning,
These and a thousand more, as idely vaine
Fooles swallow, and hee swallowes them againe,
And though the marke of truth he neuer hits,
[...] still this Cormorant doth liue by's wits,
[...]d ne're will want a false deuouring tricke,
[...]hells Archcormorant deuoure him quicke.

A Corrupted Lawyer, and a knauish Vndershrine.

THE ARGVMENT.
The soule of Common-wealths is in good Lawes,
Their execution makes a happie State,
But where Corruption opes his [...]ry Jawes;
Where Lawyers doe increase, not [...] [...] [...],
Such Law-wormes are the Diuels d [...]st brood,
Who make the common harms their priuate good.
A Hall, a hall, the tramplers are at hand,
A shifting Master, and as sweetly man'd:
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
And by that mean [...]s could make a good preuention,
Contention would beget no more contention.
This Lawyers riches euer [...]pings and bloomes,
From sheeps coat, c [...]lues skin, rus [...]et hobnaild groomes
Perswading them that all things shall goe well,
Suckes out the Eggs, leaues them the emptie shell.
He hath a fleight to spinning out a Cause,
Till all the money out of purse it drawes,
His Clients with tull budg [...]ts [...] come to towne,
But he takes order for their going downe,
The full is now the Lawyers, the [...] the wane,
Like b [...]ckets turn'd to come vp full againe:
With papers laden thinke themselues most firme,
Carries them down [...], to bring them vp next cerme,
Horse, plow, and cattle goe to wracke, split all.
Tis fit the Stable waite vpon the Hall.
Their sheepe the parchment beares, their G [...]rse the quils,
Which turnes their slate as this bad Lawyer wils.
Their shirts the paper makes, their B [...]s [...] the wax,
T'vndoe thems [...]lues that good discretion l [...]cks,
These man like Geese against themselues d [...] things,
I [...] plucking quils from their owne foolish wings,
This Lawyer makes him dang'rous shalts withall,
And shootes them at the fooles frō whence they fall.
The Common-wealths Impost [...] hee doth cut,
And the corruption in his purse doth put.
One giues him for a bribe, a Brawne or twine,
And thats drown'd with anothers But of wine,
[Page 14]One giues Coach all deckt and painted gay,
Anothers Horses drawes it quite away,
One giues a Iarrs of Oyle to scape the soile,
An Oxe o'retures the Iarre, and spils the Oyle.
And thus like Pharaohs kine, he hath the power,
To make the fastest bribes the leane deuoure.
His motions moue commotions, and his suites,
Foure times a yeare doe Termely yeeld him fruits.
Foure sundry wayes a Kingdomes Lawes are vs'd,
By tow maintained, and by two abus'd:
Good Lawyers liue by Law, and 'tis most fit,
Good men obey the Law, liue vnder it.
Bad Lawyers (for their gaine) doe wrest the Law,
Bad men of God or mans Law haue no awe.
But whether these men vse Law well or ill,
Th'intention of the Law is honest still.
For as the text is rent, and torne, and varied.
And by opinions from the sence is carried
By ignorant and wilfull Hereticks,
Or impure separating Sehismaticks,
Though from the truth of text all men should seuer,
The text is permanent and Sacred euer.
Euen so the Law is in selfe vpright,
Correcting and protecting, wrong and right:
Tis no just Lawyers, or the Lawes desame.
Although some hounds of hell abuse the same.
This Cormorant I meane, gulps whom he list,
And hauing swallow'd fees into his fist,
Deferres the motion till the Court with drawes,
Then to the cushions pleads the poore mans cause,
As formally as if the Iudge fate,
No matter for the man, the money's gat.
My Cormorant was neuer match'd till now,
If I said o'rematch'd, Ile resolue you how,
And you that reade it shall confesse it true,
Perhaps it is a thing well knowne to you,
Where Cor [...]ants haunts, numbers of fish grow lesse,
But where bad Lawyers come, there brawles increase,
Now master Vndershrieue I vnderstand,
You bring my Lawyer worke vnto his hand,
You bring him stuffe, hee like a Taylor cuts it.
And into any shape hee pleaseth puts it.
Though to the Client it appeare slight stuffe,
It shall out-last him any suite of Buffe:
For though from terme to terme it be worne long,
Tis drest still with the teazle of the tongue,
That (though it be old) at euery day of heating,
It lookes fresh, as't had neuer come to wearing.
And though it seeme as th' owner neuer wore it.
A Broaker will not giue him three pence for it.
Sweet master Shrieue, let it not grieue your mind,
You being the last o'th brood, come last behind,
No doubt you might be first in a bad case,
But being call'd vnder, I make this your place:
I know where e're you stand, you are so good,
You'l scorne to be vnlike one of the brood,
And tak't in dudgeon (as you might no doubt)
If mongst this ranke of Corm'rants [...] you were out.
I haue a warrant heere for what I doe,
Plaine truth it selfe, and that haue seldome yoe.
Some of your tribe a man may honest call,
But those my Corm'rant meddles not withall.
You that dare fright men of a shallow wit,
Who cannot read when there is nothing writ:
And can returne (when you are pleas'd to saue)
A Non inuentus for a bribing knaue.
For one that stands indebted to the King
A Nihil habet, if his purse can ring.
When a poore man shall haue his Bullockes ceaz'd,
And priz'd at little, to make you appeaz'd
You haue the art and skill to raze words out
Of Writs and Warrants, to bring gaine about.
I will not serue you so, for if you looke,
Your name stands fairely printed in my booke,
For every one to reade, how you can straine
On Widowes goods, and restore none againe.
Picke Iuries for your purose, which is worse
Then if you pick'd the wronged Plaintiffes purse:
Returne your Writs to your aduantage best,
Bring in some money, and drab out the rest.
Leauing (oft times) the high Shrieue in the lurch,
Who stops the bountie should repaire the Church,
Or buy some Bels to sound out his deuotion.
If either Ayre, or Earth, or the wide Ocean
Can shew worse Cormorants, or any brooke.
I'le neuer aske a penny for my Booke.

EPILOGVE.

Now Reader, tell me (if thou well canst iudge:)
If any honest man haue cause to grudge
At these my Stayres, being plaine and true,
Giuing the world and the Diuell their due.
I haue but bluntly call'd a spade a spade,
And hee that wincheth shewes himselfe a [...]ade.
Be quiet, see thy faults, and learnet' amend,
Thou shewest thy guiltinesse if thou contend.
FINIS.

TAYLORS WATER-WORKE: OR, THE SCVLLERS TRAVELS, FROM TYBER TO THAMES: WITH his Boat laden with a Hotch-potch, or Gallimawfrey of Sonnets, Satyres, and Epigrams. With an Inkhorne Disputation betwixt a Lawyer and a Poet: and a Quarterne of new-catcht Epigrams, caught the last Fishing­ [...]: together with an addition of P [...]stor [...] Equi [...], or the complaint of a Shepheard.

[...]

DEDICATED To neither Monarch, nor Miser, Keaser nor Caitiffe, Pallatine or Plebeian; but to great Mounsier Multitude, ahas, All, or euery One; IOHN TAYLOR sends his Scull-boats lading, to be c [...]nsured as please their Wisedomes to screw their Lunatike opinions.

MOst Mighty, Catholike, (or Vmuer sall) Mounsier Multitude, (whose many millions of Hv [...]raes heads, Ar [...]-e [...]es, and [...] hands,) ( [...] if you please [...] to iudge of my Water-Muses [...], to looke with hundreds of [...] [...] [...] of my Sculler, or to lend a few of your many hands, to helpe to tugge me a shore at the Hauen of your goodw [...]ls, which if you doe, it is more then my [...] [...] [...] [...] expcet or merit. But if you will not ass [...]st me, I will [...] the next high tide, and scramble vp into [...] though [...]he fast a ground for my la­bour. [...]e grable for Gudgeons or fish for Flounders in the Rereward of our e [...] temporizing [...]u­morists, sharpe Satyrists, or [...] call [...]

I could wish my lines might please like Cheese to a W [...]lchman, Rutter to a Flemine, Vs [...]baugh to an Irishman, or Honey to a Beare: To conclude, I wish best to the Protest [...]t, I [...] the [...], pray­ing for the perseuerance of the one, and a Re [...]ormation of the other. Meane [...], my [...] (like a Barbers shop) is readie for all commers, bee they of what Religion they well, paying their Fare­well.

Yours ten thousand wayes, IOHN TAYLOR.

To the Right Worshipfull and my euer respec­ted Mr. IOHN MORAY Esqire.

OF all the wonders this vile world includes,
I muse how s [...]atterie such high fauours gaine.
How adulation cunningly deludes,
Both high and low from Scep [...]er to the swaine;
But it thou by S [...]tterie couldst obtaine
More then the most that is possest by men,
Thou canst not tune thy tongue to falshoods straine,
Yet with the best canst vse both tongae and pen.
Thy sacred learning can both scan and k [...]n
The hidden things of Nature and of Art.
'Tis thouh all [...]'d me from obliuions den,
And made my Muse from oblcure sleepe to start.
Vnto thy wisdomes censure I commit,
This first b [...]rne issue of my worthlesse wit.
I.T.

To my de [...]re respected friend, Maister Beniamin Iehuson.

THou canst not [...] for though the str [...] of death
Depri [...] the World of thyworst [...]thly part:
Yet when the corps hath banished thy breath,
Thy liuing Muse shall still de [...]lare thy Art.
The fatall Sisters and the bless a Graces,
Were all thy friends at thy Natiuitie:
And in thy mind the Muses tooke their places,
A [...]oring thee With care capa [...]itie.
And all the Worthies of this worthy Land,
Admires thy w [...]ndr [...]u [...] all admired worth,
Then how should I that cannot vnderstand
Thy worth, thy worthy [...] sse set forth?
Yet beare the bold [...]ff [...] of the houest Sculler,
Whose worthlesse praise can fill thy praise no fuller.
I.T.

To my louing Friend Iohn Taylor.

CO [...]ld my vnpractis'd pen aduance thy name,
Thou shouldst be feared on the wings of Fame.
For from thy toylesome Oare I wonder I,
How thy inuent [...]on siowes so io [...]ondly?
Not hauing dream'd on faire Pernassus Hill,
With truitfull numbers to enrich thy Quill.
Nor hauing washt in that Pegassion Fount,
Which lends the wits such nimblenesse to mount
With tickling rapture on Poetique straines,
On Thames the Muses floate that fils thy braines.
Thy happy wit produc'd thy happy times,
Which shall comm [...]nd thee vnto after times.
And wortly enroll thy name 'mongst those,
Whose Temples are begirt, with Lawrell bowes.
For (footh to say) a worke I saw not yet,
Lesse help [...] with learning, [...]nd more grac'd with wit:
Then spight of enuie and detractions scorne,
Though Art thou want'st, thou art a Poet borne:
And as a friend for names sake I'le say thus,
Nee scombros metuentia, Carminance thus,
Hen: Tayler

To the one and onely water-Poet and my Friend, Iohn Taylor.

FResh-water Souldiers saile in shallow streames,
And Mile-end Captaines venture not their liue [...]
A braine distempred brings forth idle dreames,
And gelded Sheathes haue seldome golden Kniues,
And painted faces none but fooles bewitch:
Thy Muse is plaine: but witty, faire: and rich.
When thou didst first to Aganippe float,
Without thy knowledge (as I surely thinke)
The Nayades did swim about thy boat,
And brought thee brauely to the Muses brinke,
Where Grace and Nature filling vp thy Fountaine,
Thy Muse came flowing from P [...]rness [...] Moun [...].
So long may slow as is to thee most sit,
The boundlesse Occan of a Poets wit.
[...]

In laudem Authoris.

WIt, Reason, Grace, Religion, Nature, Zeale,
Wrought all together in thy working brain [...]
And to thy worke did set this certaine scale;
Pure is the colour that will take no staine.
What need I praise? the worke it selfe doth praise:
In words, in worth, in sorme and matter to,
A world of wits are working many wayes,
But'few haue done, what thou dost truly doe:
Was neuer I ailor shapt so fit a Coat.
Vnto the Corps of any earthly creature,
As thou hast made for that foule Romish Goat,
In true description of his diuellish nature.
Besides such matter of judicious wit,
With quaint conceits so sitting euery fa [...]ci [...];
As well may proue, who scornes and spights at it
Shall either shew their folly or their franzie,
Then let the Popes Buls roare, Bell, Booke & Candle.
In all the Diuels circuit sound thy curse:
Whilst thou with truth dost euerie tryall handle,
God blesse thy worke, and thou art ne're the worse,
And while hels friends their hateful so do p [...]o [...]e thee,
The Saints on earth, & God in heauen will loue thee,
Thy long friend N [...] B [...]t [...]
VVHen Tybers siluer waues their Channel least,
And louely Thames, her Wonted course fer­sait,
Then foule obliuion shall thy name b [...]reaue,
Drenching thy glory in her hell.bred lake,
But till that time this scourge of Popery,
Shall crowne thy fame with immortality.
Thy friend assured Maximilian W [...].

To my louing Friend Iohn Taylor.

FErris gaue cause of vulgar wonderment,
When vnto Bristow in a boat he went;
Another with his Sculler ventured more,
That row'd to Flushing from our English shoare,
Another did deuise a woodden Whale.
Which vnto Cassice did from Douer saile,
Another with his Oares and sl [...]nder Wherry,
From London vnto Antwerpe o're did Ferry.
Another maugre sickle fortunes teeth,
Rowed hence to Scotland and arriu'd at Leeth.
But thou hast made all these but triuiall things,
That from the Tower thy watry Scuiler brings
To Hellicon: most sacred in account,
And so arriued at Peru assas Mount:
And backe return'd Laden with Poets wit,
With all the Muses hands to witnesse it;
Who on their Sculler doth this praise bestow,
Not such another on the Th [...] doth row.
Thy louing Friend, Sam: Rowlands.

To my Friend both by Water and Land, IOHN TAYLOR.

OFt hast thou trauail'd for me at thy Oare,
But neuer in this kind didst toyle before.
Toturne a Poet in this peeuish time,
It held as rare as I should write in rime,
For one of thy profession, yet thy Art,
S [...]passeth mine, this serues to paint that part,
I meane thy Poetry which in [...] lurks,
And not thy sweating skill in water-works.
I cannot but commend thy Booke, and say
Thou merit'st more then comman Scullers pay:
Then whistle off thy Muse, and giue her scope,
That she may soundly cease vpon the Pope:
For well I see that he and many more,
Are dar'd by her (which scarce was done before.)
Pr [...]d (good Iohn) and when th'ast done this worke,
Feare not to venter trussing of the Turke.
I like thy vaine, I loue thee for those guifts
Of Nature in thee, farre about the shifts
That others seeke, plodding for what thy pen,
Wit Workes in thee learning in other men,
Then Natiue Language we haue done thee wrong
To say th'art not compleat, wanting the tongue
Call'd Latine, for b [...]cre's are shall [...] the strife,
That neuer learned Latine word [...] life.
Then to conclude, I truly must confesse.
Many baue more beene taught, but learned lesse.
Thy assured friend R. B.

To my louing Friend IOHN TAYLOR.

SOme say kind [...] thou art a Poet borne,
And none by Art; which thou maist justly scorne;
For if without thy name they had but seene
Thy lines, thy lines had artificiall beene,
Opinion carries with it such a curse,
Although thy name makes not the verse the worse.
If then this worke, variety affords
Of Trophes, of Figures, Epethites, and Words.
With no harsh accent and with iudgement too.
I pray what more can Art or Nature doe?
So that in thee thy G [...]i [...]s doth impart,
To Artificiall Nature, Naturall Art.
Thy old assured friend IO: MORAY.

Prologue to the Reader.

GOod gentle Reader, if I doe transgresse,
I know you know, that I did ne're professe.
Vntill this time in Print to be a Poet:
And now to exercise my wits I show it.
View but the intrals of this little booke,
And thou wilt say that I some patnes haue tooke:
Paines mixt with pleasure, pleasure ioyn'd with pain
Produc'd this issue of my laboring braine.
But now me thinkes I heare some enuious throat,
Say I should deale no further then my Boat:
And ply my Fare, and leaue my Epigram,
Minding, ne Sutor vltra crepidam.
To such I answere, Fortune giue her guists.
Some downe she throwes, and some to honour lifts:
'Mongst whom from me she hath with-held her store
And giues me leaue to sweat it at my Oare.
And though with labour I my liuing purse,
Yet doe I thinke my lines no [...]ot the worse,
For Gold is gold, though buried vnder mosse,
And drosse in golden vessels is but drosse.
Iohn Taylor,

TO TOM CORIAT.

VVHat matters for the place I first came from
I am no Duncecomb, Coxecomb, Odcomb Tom
Nor am I like a wool-pack, c [...]ām'd w [...] Greek,
Venus in Venice minded to goe seeke;
And at my backe returne to write a Volume,
In memory of my wits Garganina Colume.
The choysest wits would neuer so adore me;
Nor like so many Lackiesrun before me,
But honest Tom, I enuy not thy state,
There's nothing in thee worthy of my hate;
Yet I confesse thou hast an excellent wit:
But that an idle braine doth harbour it.
Foole thou it at the Court, I on the Thames,
So farewell Obcomb Tom, God blesse King Iames.

The Author in his owne defence.

THere is a crew of euer carping spirits,
Who merit nothing good, yet hate good merits:
One wrings his lawes awry, and then cryes mew,
And that I stole my lines, hee'l plainely shew.
Thou addle-headed Asse, thy braines are muddy,
Thy witlesle wit, vncapable of study,
Deem'st each inuention barren, like to thine;
And what thou canst not mend thou wilt repine.
Loe thus to wauering Censures torturing Racke,
With truth and confidence my Muse doth packe.
Let Zoyl [...] and let Momus doe their worst,
Let Enuie and Detraction swell and burst;
In spight of spight and rankerous sda [...]e,
In scorne of any carping Criticks braine,
Like to a Post I'le runne through thicke and thin,
To scourge Iniquity and spurgall sinne.
You worthy fauourites of wisedomes lore,
Onely your fauours doth my Muse implore:
If your good stomackes these harsh lines disgest,
I carelesse bid a rush for all the rest.
My lines first parents (be they good or ill)
Was my vnlearned braine, and barten quill.

THE SCVLLER. To the whole kennell of Anti-Christs hounds, Priests, Friers, Monkes, and Iesuites, Mastiffes, Mongrels, Islands, Spanniels, Blood-hounds, Bobtaile-tike, or Foysting­hound: The SCVLLER sends greeting.

Epigram 1.

CVrse, exorcise, with Beads, with Booke and Bell
Polluted shauelings: rage and doe your worst:
Vse coniurations till your bellics burst,
With many a Nigroma [...]ticke mumbling spell,
I feare you not, nor all your friends that sell
With Lucifer: vee damned dogs that durst
Deuise that thundring Treason most accurst,
Whose like before was neuer hatcht in Hell,
Halfe men, halfe diuels, who neuer dream'd of good,
To you from [...]aire and sweetly sliding Thames,
A popomasticke Sculler warre proclaimes,
As to the suckers of Imperiall bloud,
An Anti-Iesuice Sculler with his pen,
Defies your Babell beast, and all his Den.
I.T.

Epigram 2.

ROme, now approaches thy confusion,
Thy Antichristiā Kingdome down must tumble
The NI [...]srods proud cloud-piercing Babylon,
Like hell-hatch'd pride, despight thy hart must hum­ble,
In scorne of damn'd equiuocation,
My lines like thunder through thy Regions rumble,
Downe in the dust must lye thy painted glory,
For now I row and write thy tragicke story.

Epigram 3.

WHē God had all things out of nothing fram'd,
And man had named all things [...] are nam'd;
God shewed to man the way he should behaue him,
What ill would dam him, or what good would saue him,
All creatures that the world did then containe,
Were all made subiects to mans Lordly raigne.
Faire Paradise was Princely ADAMS walke,
Where God himselfe did often with him talke:
At which the Angels, enuious and proud,
Striu'd to ascend aboue the highest cloud:
And with the mighty God to make compare,
And of his glory to haue greatest share:
Because they saw Gods loue to man so great,
They striu'd to throw their Maker from his seat.
But he, whose power is All-sufficient,
Did headlong hurle them from Heauens battlement:
And for which enuious pride they so did swell,
They lost heauens glory for the paines of Hell.
In all this time, man liuing at his ease,
His wife nor he not knowing to displease
Their glorious maker, till the Sonne of night
Full fraught with rage, and poyson bursting spight,
Finding alone our ancient grandam EVE,
With false perswasions makes her to beleeue
[Page 17] [...] would eate the fruit she was forbidden,
[...] should Gods secrets know, were from her hidden
[...]sing all was true the Serpent told,
[...] both to ADAM straightway did vnfold,
[...] [...]cherous horrid vile soule killingtreason,
[...] ambitions, past the bounds of reason,
[...] his posterities sole detriment)
[...] to the Woman and the Fiend consent.
[...] ADAM neuer had the diuell obeyed,
[...] not had the woman for his ayde.
[...] the sexe that God made man to cherish,
[...] by the Diuell intic'd to cause him perish.
[...] supposing he had woone the field
[...] taking man to his obedience yeeld)
[...] ADAM now in corps and mind deiected,
[...] head to foot with shamefull sinne infected:
[...] a slaue to sinne, the Diuell and Death,
[...]ding the dinger of th'Almighties wrath,
[...], banisht from Gods presence thrust,
[...] the earth being for his crime accurst,
[...] with griefe and selfe-consuming care,
[...] at the brimme of bottomlesse dispaire.
[...] God in mercy thinking of his [...]rail [...]ie,
[...] sinfull man to him had broken [...]ealcie,
[...] promise he would send his onely Sonne,
[...] for faults by man misdone.
[...], he came, in his appointed time,
[...] on his faultlesse shoulders tooke our crime,
[...] like a malefactor death he suffered,
[...], once for all, himselfe himselfe hath offered.
[...] yet the Diuell will not be satisfi'd,
[...] though the Sonne of God for sinners dy'd)
[...] dayly hellish damned enterprises,
[...] Ministers and he gainst man deuises,
[...] the shelter of Religions cloake,
[...]cusly he doth the world prouoke,
[...] God in trayterous manner to rebell,
[...] amplifie his euerlasting hell,
[...] tempting mankind still by fraud or force,
[...] soule from his Redeemer to diuorce,
[...] yet not man alone must feele his sting.
[...] he dares venter on our heauenly King,
[...]hose power though Satan Knowes is euerlasting,
[...] after fortie dayes and nights long fasting,
[...]cking him weake, attempts now to inuade him:
[...] with illusions seeking to perswade him:
[...]es our Sauiour vp vnto a Hill,
[...] told him if he would obey his will.
[...] oration to fall down [...] before him,
[...] of the worlds great glory would so store him
That he should Lord and Master be of all,
[...] in reuerence would before him fall.
Christ knowing him to be the root of euill,
With God-like power commands, auoid thou diuell.
'Tis writ, Thou Shalt not tempt the Lord thy God,
[...] seiue and feare the fury of his rod,
Sathan perceiuing all his labour lost,
Runnes through the world, more switter then a post:
Proclaimes large Kingdomes, and a tryple Crowne,
To him that in his Reuerence would fall downe.
Ambitious thirst of fickle fading fame,
Did quickly mindes of wordly man inflame:
Making them dreame on pleasures [...]sitorie,
And to esteeme earths pompe aboue heauens glory.
This made the Pope, with poysonous pride infus'd,
T' accept those honours Christ before refus'd:
Now hath he wonne great fame, on this condition:
That fore the diuell he fall in base submission:
So hauing wonne this great magnificence,
To countermaund the earths cir [...] ence.
The Idiot world he proudly ou [...]r-swa [...],
Vnder the name of Heauens immortall hayes,
O're all the Globe he ra [...]gnes as Lord and King,
And to Hels Goat.fold [...]e doth millions bring,
Ot soules, [...]duc'd with buzard bl [...]ded zeale,
From men besotted he doth honour steale,
And yet with his effrontit shamelesse face,
Seemes to command the diuell that gaue him place.
A haynous fault in my dull vnderstanding,
The Seruant o're his Lord should be commanding:
But yet I thinke 'tis but for policy,
More to increase th' infernall Monarchy:
He seemes to hate the Diuell he most doth serue,
Else would the world from Romes obedience swerue,
And leaue the Pope and Papists in the lurch:
And then might Sathan whistle for a Church,
The Isle of Brittaine hath perceiu'd their tricks,
And in Rebellion 'gainst the Pope she kickes:
For whom they haue inucnted helle-hatcht plots,
Quite to extirpe the English and the Scots.
I wot not which of Rome or hell roar'd lowder,
But they had like t'haue p [...]pper'd vs with powder.
Yea all estates, from Scepter to the Crowne,
Should topsie tur [...]ie all be tumbled downe.
Without respect of person, sexe, or age,
All had their doome, t'abide the Romane rage.
But he that by his sacred selfe had sworne,
To guard his Church, did laugh them all to scorne:
For when those vassals of eternall night,
Thought all secure, then God brought all to light,
Casting their painted glory in the dust,
That any power besides his power doth trust:
I.eauing their Corps a prey for Crowes and Kites,
That brauely so for Signior Satan fights.
But in this matter I'le no further trauaile,
Least want or water make my Ship to grauell:
Knowing there's many wits of farre more worth,
That to the life hath limbd this Treason forth;
But Ile conclude as I began before,
Because that Christ would not the diuell adore,
Christ lost this glorious worldly pompous raigne,
Which happy losse, the haplesse Pope did gaine.

Epigram 4.

HOw weakely is that weake Religion grounded,
That thinks y e Church on Peters corps is foūded?
The Spouse of Christ is built on Faiths firme Rocke,
Which not the sury of Hels direfull shocke,
Though all the fiends in treupes doe her assaile,
Yet 'gainsts Gods power their force cannot preuaile.
Peters confessing Christ Gods a true begotten,
Is sure the Churches ground, but Peter's rotten,
Or else it Peter neuer had had life,
Through want of him Christ neuer had had wise,
For't is an Article of Faith profound,
To know S. Peter for the Churches ground.
And who denyes it shall haue fire and rope,
Beleeue me Reader, or goe aske the Pope.
But yet I muse in what place of the earth,
Gods Church did stand before S. Peters birth?

Epigram 5.

VVHen as our Sauiour to the Temple went,
To tell the message that his Father sent:
And finding there a rude vnruly rout,
That bought and sold, he angry beat them out,
And ouerthrew their Tressels and their tables,
And made them packe away with all their bables:
And further said (what all true hearts beleeues)
This house was made for Prayer, no den for theeues.
Those Marchants thus whipt from their market place
Practis'd reuenge 'gainst Christ for this disgrace.
And more to strēgth their power, joyn'd w th y e Pope:
Who by his lawlesse Law hath giuen them scope,
That in the Church they still should buy and sell
Both God, and Diuell, Heauen, Purgatory, Hell,
Now here's the oddes, Christ out the Pedlers thrust,
And stayd himselfe there, preaching what was iust.
And for reuenge the haughty Romane Priest.
Hath tane the Pedlers in, and thrust out Christ.

Epigram 6.

IT is a question fiarre beyond my Logicke,
How those y e haue y e Popedome won by Magicke,
Can be Lieutenants b vnto Christ our Sauiour,
Being knowne for hell hounds of most damn'd beha­uiour:
Then since the diuell hath the Pope created.
His Vicar must he be, that there him seated:
'Twould make a wiset head then mine to muse,
That God should like the man the Diuell doth chuse.

Epigram 7.

A Prouer be old, where had the Diuell the Frye
Where had the Diuell the Fryer but were he [...]
The Diuell with the Fryer sits in the Quire, [...]
The Fryer with the Diuell sayes and sings Masse?
The diuell and the Frier are ne're asunder,
The Fryer to hate the Diuell is more then wonder

Epigram 8.

COnferring with a Romish c Pharisee,
Who void of grace maintain'd this heresie,
That he the Law of God had neuer broken,
Nor neuer ill had done, nor ill had spoken.
I gaue his Antichristian faith the lye.
And told him that for him Christ did not dye.
For he did suffer onely for their sinne.
Who were insnared in the diuels ginne.
And as for him that neuer had transgrest,
Twere good to hang him now he's at the best.

Epigram 9.

IT is an Art beyond the worke of Nature,
The Pope should be d Creator, and a Creature
Betwixt the Pope and God there's one thing odde,
For though God all things made [...] Pope makes God

Epigram 10.

REligions scatter'd into diuers sects,
One likes one way for many sound respects,
Others like that way; others like another,
And what likes th'one, is loathed by the other.
Yet each man deemes his owne opinion's right,
And each 'gainst other bearesinated spight.
Amongst the rest the Romane Catholike,
Who scornes that his Religion saile should strike
To any, since from it two vertues springs,
That they may eate their God, and kill their Kings
By which maine Maximes they do strongly hope
To the worlds Period to vphold the e Pope.

Epigram 11.

IT is no wonder though Romes regall sway,
Is by a Sheapheard rul'd with f Lordly same;
For ancient Records truly doth display;
How Romulus the Shepheard built the same:
And how his brother Rem [...] and himselfe,
In Tybers restlesse wanesy drencht and ducke,
When infant miserie was all their pelse,
A rauening wolfe, most motherly they suckes
[Page 19]From whom doth spring as from a flowing gulfe,
Romes Priest and Prince, a Shepheard and a Wolfe.

Epigram 12.

TVmultuous thoughts within my brest deth struggle,
To thinke how sinely popish Priests can iuggle:
And make the world beleeue a a wafer g Cake,
Is that Creator that did all things make
Or that the sinne-polluted bald-crownd Priest,
With coniurations, can create his Christ,
When our beliefe d [...]th plainly testifie,
He sits at Gods right hand in Maiestie,
From whence in humaine for me he will not come,
Till quicke and dead shall all abide his doome.
What Fooles are they then thinks the Priest & Ba­ker,
With impious hands makes their immortall maker.

Epigram 13.

NOt all the sophistrie of Aristosle,
Cannot perswade me but the Pope did erre,
When he and's sonne mistooke the poy [...]ned h bottle.
'Twas' error sure, what euer they inferre.
O't had beene good then, both for him and's heyre,
He had beene haltered fast in Peters Chayre.

Epigram 14.

THe wa [...] like Emperours before Christ come,
Subdu'd the wo [...]ld, both Sea and Land to Rome.
Then afterwards the i Heauens their Bishops wonne.
By preaching truly Gods Immortall Sonne.
Heauen, Earth, and Sea, being taken in the prime,
What rests now for the Popes this latter time?
Since of the heauens and earth they loose their part,
They will haue hell, despight the diuels hart.

Epigram 15.

CHrists Church in no wayes is the k Church of
For Paul sayes, in the latter time should come,
Apostates, that the truth should quite forsake,
That lyes and fables should Religion make:
Affi [...]ming meates and Matrimony euill,
Which Paul doth call the doctrine of the deuill.
Then since the Pope and all his shaueling rout,
What Christ commands they wilfully thrust out.
I with my betters must conclude this doome,
The Deuils deere drab must be the Church of Rome.

Epigram 16.

O Yes, if any man would know a place,
Where God himselfe hath neither power nor might,
Where as th' Al [...]ighty neuer shew'd his face.
Where words, nor swords, can neither talke nor sight.
O such a place [...] esse place [...] l. Purg [...]tory,
Created by the Pope without Gods leaue,
To amplifie his Antich [...]ian glory,
And all the world with counning to deceiue,
Where as the Pope hangs, drawes, condemnes, and [...]dges
Commits, acquits, sets free, or [...] [...] all,
Whether he thousands sends, on heapes like drudges,
For in this no place, hee is all in all,
And like a mighty [...] crownd P [...] Prince,
With threats and bansh [...] [...] so the world be witches:
In sending thither, and recalling [...],
He gaines himselfe the D [...]ll and all for riches.

Epigram 17.

THe m Pope hath charge of heauens immortall keyes,
And triple-headed Cerberus obeyes,
His triple Crowne, and who so e're he please,
He sends to Hell for payne, or Heauen for ease.
He can command the Angels and the Fiends,
What pleases them for him or for his friends,
Like as a Dog doth feare a sti [...]ch of Bacon,
So his great name, Heauen, Earth, & Hell hath shaken.

Epigram 18.

VVHo dares affirme the Popes of Rome are Proud,
Amongst the Heretickes himselfe must shroud
Or who dares say they'r giuen to Auarice,
In selling Heauen and Hell for summes of price?
Or who dares speake such words of treachery,
To say the Pope is giuen to n Letchery?
Or who is he, dares be so impious,
To say his Holinesse is Enuious?
Or who, for seare of euerlasting scath,
Dares once accuse his Holinesse of Wrath.
[Page 20]Or who is he that dares once verifie,
The Pope doth vse excessiue Gl [...]ttony?
Or who dares say, that like a drone or moath,
Like an vnpreaching Priest, he liues by El [...]th?
He that against him this dares justifie,
Is a plaine Protestant, and such am I.

Epigram 19.

MAy it be call'd intollerable Pride,
For man to sit in the o Almighties seate,
Or on mens shoulders pompously to ride.
To terrifie the world with thundering threat?
To weare a three [...] pilde Crowne vpon his head?
To haue both Kings and Princes at his becke?
Whose Horse by mighty Potenta [...]es is led,
Who proudly [...]ootes vpon the Emperours necke:
If trickes like these, [...]o [...] pride may be allow'd,
Then I conclude, the Pope must needs be proud.

Epigram 20.

IF it be couetous for gripple gaine,
To sell [...] the Heauens, the Earth, yea God himselfe,
To dispossesse Kings from their lawfull raigne,
To cramme his co [...]fers with vnlawfull pel [...]e.
To pardon sinnes for p money, more then pitty:
Nay more, to pardon sinnes that are to come:
To maintaine Whores, and Stewes in Towne and City:
Who yerely payes the Pop [...] a countlesse sum,
Who takes great interest, puts great summes to vse,
'Tis Couetousuesse I thinke without excuse.

Epigram 21.

IS it not bruitish sensuall q appetite,
The Sire to make a strumpet of his child,
Or is not Letcherie an Epethire,
For him that hath his Fathers bed defilde?
For him that hath des [...] our'd Virginitie?
That hath defilde the Damozell and the Damme,
Without respect of Consanguinitie?
That like a wolfe hath spovld both Ewe and Lambe?
This may be rearm'd incestuons Luxury,
And yet his Holinesse not wrong'd thereby.

Epigram 22.

HE like a God that gouernes in the world,
That Eu [...]es [...]ch mans honour but his owne:
He [...] [...] through the earth hath hurld,
Who [...] E [...]uie hath great Kingdomes ouer-throwne.
He that vngra [...]s his [...] that's o [...]ce intomb'd,
For Enu [...] that he wrong'd him whilst he liu'd,
And after death is E [...] d [...]m'd.
To be of liue lesse sencel [...]sie limbs depria'd.
If this be true none will deny I hope,
That Enuie is ing [...]a [...]ted in the Pope. r

Epigram 23.

HE whose fierce s Wrath with bloudy rag [...]doth swell
That cakes delight in [...]aughtering Gods [...]
He that is sworne the Champion of Hell.
That Wrath and Murther onely doth effect:
He whose combu [...]ous all deuouring ire,
Depopulates and layes whole Empires waste,
Whose Wrath like a consuming quenchl [...]le fire,
Hath blessed peace from Ch [...]stendome d [...]plac't.
If I should need one, skild in Wrath and Murther
His Holinesse commands me goe no further.

Epigram 24.

VVHO dares for t Glutony the Pope accuse,
Or' gunst voluptuous dyet make com­plaints [...]
His Holinesse so many Fasts doth vse,
As L [...]nts, and Fasting dayes, and Eeucs of Saints,
Yet where Pride, Lust, and Auarice are found,
Heart gnawing Enuie, and fell murthering Wra [...],
There rauenous Gluttoxy must needs abound,
Else other vices will be out of breath.
For Papists Fasts are generally more deare,
Then Feasts of Protestants with all their cheare.

Epigram 25.

THose u liberall Sciences in number soanen,
Began with Pride, & ends with drowsie Sl [...]b
Yet Christs command vnto the Apostles giuen
Was, feed my sheepe that faith in them haue growth.
Now I suppose, the feeding of Christs flocke,
Is truly Preaching of his sacred word, x
[Page 21]Which word's the Key that opes the heauenly locke,
Which, y Sword and Word his Holinesse doth hoord.
Which drawne, cuts his throat and the Diuels both,
For scare of which he lets it sleepe in sloath.
The beliefe of a Romane Catholske.

Epigram 26.

I Doe beleeue the holy Pope of Rome,
Is Lord of z Scriptures, Fathers, Church and all:
Of Councels of the world, whose dreadfull doome,
Can at his pleasure make all rise, or fall.
I doe beleeue, though God forbids the same,
That I should worship Images, and Saints:
I hope by mine owne workes I heauen may claime.
[...] tongues vnknown, I must make praiers & plaints.
I doe beleeue Christs bodie made of bread.
And may be eaten by Dogs, Cats, or Mice,
Yet is a sacrifice for quicke and dead,
And may be bought and sold for rated price.
I further doe beleeue the Pope our Lord,
[...]n at his pleasure all my sinnes forgiue.
I doe beleeue at his commanding * word,
Subiects must Kings of liues and land depriue.
Like as the Church beleues, so I beleeue:
By which I hope the Heauens I shall atchieue.

Epigram 27.

LIke as the Vipers birth's his mothers bane,
So the Popes full, hath been the Emperors wane:
The Empires Autumne, was the Popish Spring,
And Kings subiection made the Pope a King.
Then did his Holinesse become a God,
When Princes children-like, gan feare his rod.
Whil'st earthly Potentates their owne did hold,
Th [...] Popes then Shepheard-like did keepe their fold.
And fore the sacred truth should be o'ercome,
They willingly would suffer Martyrdome.
But farewell Martyrs nows and welcome Myters,
For painefull Preachers now, contentions fighters,
With bloud or gold, ascends [...]he Papall Chayre,
Vnder the title of Saint Peters heyre.
I thinke if truth were brought vnto the tryall,
The Pope is heyre to Peter in denyall.
But want of penitence proclaimes him base,
A Bastard not of P [...]ers blesied race,
Vnlesse when Christ did call th' Apostle diuell.
He's Bastard to the good, and heyre to th'euill.

Epigram 28.

ME [...] thinkes I heare a swarme of Romani [...].
Reuile and curse, with Candle, Booke & Be [...]l [...]
Yea all the pol [...]eshorne crew of Antichrists,
Condemnes me all without remorse to Hell:
But I with resolution so doe arme me,
Their blessings doe no good, nor cu [...]sings harme me.

Epigram 29.

I That haue rowed from Tyber vnto Thames,
Not with a Sculler, but with Scull and bra [...],
If none will pay my Fare, the more's their shames,
I am not first vnpaid that hath tane pa [...]nes.
Yet Ile bee bold if payment be delay'd.
To say and sweare your Sculler is not pay'd.

To his approued good friend, Master Robert Branthwayt.

DEere friend, to thee I owe a countlesse d [...]bt,
Which though I euer pay will ne're be pay'd:
Tis not base coyne, subiect to cankers [...]t,
If so, in time my debt would be defray'd,
But this may debt, I would haue all men know.
Is loue, the more I pay, the more I owe.
I.T.

To his well esteemed friend, Master Maximilian Waad.

VVlt, Learning, Honesty, and all good parts,
Hath so possest thy body and thy minde,
That couetously thou steal'st away mens hearts,
Yet'gainst thy theft, there's neuer none repin'd.
My heart, that is my greatest worldly pelse,
Shall euer be for thee as for my selfe.
I.T.

To my friend Master William Sherman.

THou that in idle adulating words
Canst neuer please the humours of these dayes,
That greatest workes with smallest speech affords,
Whose wit the rules of Wisedomes lore obeyes.
In few words then, I wish that thou maist be,
As well belou'd of all men, as of me,
I.T.
FINIS.

Epigram 1.

ALl you that stedfastly doe fixe your eye,
Vpon this idle issue of my braine,
Who void of any intricate disguise,
Describes my meaning rusticall and plaine.
My Muse like [...]phus with roylesome trade,
Is euer working, yet hath neuer done,
Though from [...] Rom. [...] Sea she well gan wade,
Yet is her labour as 'twere ne [...] begun.
For hauing at the Papists had a sling,
Great Brita [...]es vice, or vertues now I sing.

Epigram 2.

THen cause I will not hug my selfe in sinne,
First with my selfe, I meane for to begin.
Confessing that in me there's nothing good:
My vaines are full of sinne-polluted bloud,
Which all my corps insects with hel [...]-bo [...] crimes,
Which make my actions lawlesse like these times,
That had I power according to my will,
My faults would make compare with any ill,
But yet I muse at Poets now ad [...]yes,
That each mans vice so sharpely will dispraise:
Like as the Kite doth o're the carrion houer,
So their owne faults, with other mens they couer.
Cause you shall deeme my iudgement to be just,
Amongst the guilty, I cry guiltie first.

Epigram 3.

GLacus that selfe conce [...]ted c [...]iticke foole,
Vpon my Epigrams doth looke a scaunt,
And bids me pat my borren wit to Schoole,
And I in anger bid the Affe aua [...].
For till some better thing by him is pend,
I bid him fault not that he cannot mend.

Epigram 4.

A Skilfull Painter such rare pictures drew.
That euery man his workemanship admir'd:
So neere the life, in beautie, for me, and new,
As if dead Art, 'gainst Nature had conspir'd.
Painter sayes one, thy wife's a p [...]tty woman,
I muse such il [...]-shapt Children thou [...]ast got,
Yet makest such pictures as their like makes no man,
I preth [...]e tell the cause of this thy lot?
Quoth he, I paint by day when it is light,
And get my Children in the darke at night.

Epigram 5.

VNlearned Azo, store to Bookes hath bought,
Because a learned Scholler hee'l be thought:
I counsell'd him that had of Bookes such store,
To buy Pipes, Lutes, the Violl and Bandore.
And then his Musicke and his learning share,
Being both alike, with either might compare.

Epigram 6.

FAire Betrice tuckes her coats vp somewhat hie,
Her pretty leg and foot cause men should spie:
Sayes one you haue a handsome Leg sweet ducke,
I haue two (quoth she) or else I had hard [...]ucke:
There's two indeed, I thinke th'are twinnes (qd. he)
They are, and are not, honest friend (quoth she)
Their birth was both at once, I dare be sworne,
But yet betweene them both a man was borne.

Epigram 7.

THe way to make a Welch-man thirst for blisse,
And say his prayers dayly on his knees:
Is to perswade him, that most c [...]taine 'tis,
The Moone is made of nothing but greene Cheese.
And hee'l desire of God no greater boone,
But place in heauen to feed vpon the Moone.

Epigram 8.

A Gailant Lasse from out her window saw,
A Gentleman, whose nose in length exceeded;
Her boundlesse will, not limited by Law,
Imagin'd he had what she greatly needed,
To speake with him, she kindly doth entreat,
Desiring him to cleare her darke suppose:
Supposing euery thing was made compleat,
And correspondent equall to his nose.
But finding short where she expected long,
She sigh'd and said, O nose thou didst me wrong.

Epigram 9.

YOung S r. Iohn Puckefoist, and his new made Ma­dam:
Forgets they were the off spring of old Adam,
I'm sure 'tis not for wit, nor manlike fight,
His worthlesse worship late was dub'd a Knight.
Some are made great for wealth, and some [...]or [...]it,
And some for valour doe attaine to it:
And some for neither valour, wit nor wealth,
But stolne opinion, purchase it by stealth.

Epigram 10.

ONe told me fiattery was exi [...]'d the slate,
And pride and lust at Court were out of date,
How vertue did from thence all vice put sue,
'Tis newes (qnoth I) too good for to be true.

Epigram 11.

HE that doth beate his braines, and trie his wit,
In hope thereby to please the multitude,
As soone may ride a Horse without a bit,
Aboue the Moone, or Sunnes high altitude.
Then neither flatt [...]rie, nor the hope of pelfe,
Hath made me write, but for to please my selfe.

Epigram 12.

A Rusticke swaine was cleaning of a blacke,
And hum he cryes at euery pond'rous kr [...]o [...]ke,
His wife sayes, Husband, where fore hum you [...]?
Quoth he, it makes the wedge in further goe.
When day was done, and drow sie night was come,
Being both in bed at play, sh [...] bids him hum.
Good wife(quoth he) [...]ncreat me hum no more,
For when I hum I cleaue, but now I bore.

Epigram 13.

VVhen Cauale [...]o Hot shot goes with Oares,
Zoun's rowye Rogues, ye [...]z knaues make hast,
[...]yle of Fidlers and a brace of Whotes,
At Lambeth stayes for me to breake their fast;
He that's so hot for's wench ere he come nie [...]er,
Being at her once, I doubt hee'l be on fire.

Epigram 14.

IT was my chance once in my furious mood,
To call my neighbours wife an a [...]nt who [...]re,
But she most [...]y on here credit stood,
[...]aring that sorry I should be there [...]o [...] re,
Her Husband vnderstanding of the case,
Protested he would sue me for a sla [...]der,
When straight I prou'd it to his forked face,
He was a Knaue, a Cuckold and a Pander,
Obo (quoth he) good neighbour say no mo,
I know my wife lets out her buggle bo.

Epigram 15.

THe Law hangs Theeues for their vnlawfull Stea­ling
The law carts Bawd [...], for keeping of the dore,
The Law doth punish R [...]gues, for rogu [...]sh dealing
The Law whips both the Pander and the Who [...]e,
For yet I muse from whence this Law is growne,
Whores must not steale nor yet must v [...] their owne.

Epigram 15.

OLd Fabian by Extortion and by stealth,
Hoth got a huge Masse of ill gotten wealth,
For which he giues God daily thankes and praise,
When 'twas the Diuell that did his [...]tunes ray [...],
Then since the gatting of thy goods were euill,
Th' hast reason to bee thankful to the deuill,
Who very largely hatn increast thy mocke,
And sent the Miser Midaes golden locke.
Then thanke not God, for he hath h [...]lp [...] thee leaft,
But thanke the Diuell that hath thy [...] [...]creast.

Epigram 17.

WHat matter ist, how men their dayes doe spend,
So good report do on their deaths attend:
Though in thy former life thou ne're didst good,
But mad'st Religion for thy faules a hood,
And all blacke sinnes were [...]
And tooke thy Con [...]
Yet at thy [...]
[...] haue [...] Sern [...]
A thread [...]
And in [...]
Will mak [...] [...]
And [...]
Our [...]
Who was the [...]
N D [...] [...] swearer,
No gr [...]ed [...] V [...]urer, [...]
Ode [...]
And thus an end at has [...]
Thus Mr. [...]
To make a V [...]ll [...]ine [...]
And to one [...]
Much more then [...] [...] worth of words.

Epigram 18.

LOrd who would take him for a p'pp [...]n [...]quire,
That's [...]
Can the dun'd wind [...] or base [...],
Maintaine the sl [...]u [...] in this [...]?
No [...] V [...]tue's at to law a price,
When man knowes better how to thr [...] by Vice,

Epigram 19.

ALL Bradoes oathes are new founded quence,
As though they sprung from learned Sapience:
He sweares by twit [...] p [...]d I [...] fiery Car,
By Marses Launce, the fearfull God of war,
By [...]u [...]ias Bo [...] M [...]es charming Rod,
By B [...] Di [...]ty, that drunken God
By gum sac'd [...]ut [...] and A [...]ernus [...]aues,
B [...] Eoius blasts, and Neptun [...] raging W [...]ues,
B [...] [...] swe [...] M [...]us [...]ght [...] [...] eyes,
All other Oathes his h [...]mon doth despise.

Epigram 20.

SIgneor Scranoto and tro doth range
And at high Noone he visits the Exchange:
With stately gate the peopled Burse he stalkes,
Prving for some acquaintance in those walkes;
Which if he Spy [...] but has strange salute,
Marke how he'l spread to shew his broaking sute,
When he perhaps that ow'd that cast apparell,
Not a fortnight since at Tyborne sought a quarrell.

Epigram 21.

OLd Grubsons Sonne a stripling of good age,
[...] will make one laugh to see him and his Page,
Like to a garded Vichin walkes the streets,
Looking for reuerence of each one he meets;
Eagles must honour Owles, and Lyons Apes,
And wise men worship fooles for farre fetcht shapes,

Epigram 22.

GReab Captaine Sharke doth wonderfully muse,
How he shall spend the day that next ensues:
There's no Play to be playd, but he hath seene,
At all the Theaters he oft hath beene:
And seene the rise of Clownes, and fall of Kings,
Which to his humour no contentment brings.
And for he scornes to see a Play past twice:
Hee'l spend a time with his sweet Cockatrice.

Epigram 23.

A Compleat Gallant that hath gone as farre,
That with his hands from skyes hath pluckt a star:
And saw bright Phaebus whō he did take Coach:
And Luna when her throne she did approach:
And talke with Iupiter and Mercury,
With Vulcan and the Queene of Lechery.
And saw the net the stumpfoot Black-smith made,
Whe ein fell Mars and Venus was betrayd,
With thousand other sights he saw in skyes,
Who dares affirme i [...] that this gallant lyes?
I counsell all that either hate or loue him.
Rather beleeue him, then goe to disproue him.

Epigram 24.

DRusus his portion gallantly hath spent,
What though? He did it to a good intent.
Vnto a wise man it seemes neuer strange,
That men should put their money to Exchange.
Nay then I saw he was a subtile Fox,
What had he for't I pray, sweet Sir the Poxe.
I doe not like his bargaine: why, wherefore?
His money still wan'd lesse, his poxe waxe more.
He need not now feare wasting of his stocks.
Spend what he can, he nere shall want the Poxe.

Epigram 25.

NEate Master Scape-thrist, railes against all ryet,
Commending much a temperate sparing dyet,
What though he hath beene prodigall and wilde,
Those idle fancies now he hath exilde:
What though he hath beene frequent with excesse
Of Dice, of Drabs, and drowsie Drunkennesse,
Yet now he's chang'd Sir, he is not the man,
The case is alter'd now from what 'twas than:
The Prologue of his wealth did teach him spend,
And 'tis the Epilogue that makes him mend.

Epigram 26.

A Greedie Chuffe once being warn'd in poste
To make appearance at the Court of Hell:
Where grifly Pluto hotly rules the roste.
And being [...]ummon'd by the passing Bell.
With heapes of gold he would haue bribed Death,
But he dildaining bribes depriu'd his breath.

Epigram 27.

DOctor Donzago one of wondrous learning,
And in Astronomy exceeding cunning:
Of things thats past and coming he's discerning,
His mind on Prophesies is euer running,
Of Comets, Meteors, Apparitions,
Of Prodigles, and exhalations,
Of Planets, natures, and conditions,
And of the spheares great calculations.
Yet want of one skill all his cunning smothers,
Who lyes most with his wife himselfe or others.

Epigram 28.

BRaue Bragadocia whom the world doth threaten
Was lately with a Faggot sticke sore beaten:
Wherefore in kindnesse now my Muse must weepe,
Because his resolution was asleepe.

Epigram 29.

VVAlking along the streets the other day.
A ragged Souldier crost me on the way;
And though my purses lyning was but scant,
Yet somewhat I bestow'd to ease his want.
For which he kindly thankt me with his heart,
And tooke his leaue, and friendly we did part.
When straight mine eyes a Horse & Footcloth spy'd [...]
Vpon whose backe in pompous state did ride,
One, whom I thought was deputie to Ioue,
Yet not this Souldiers wants could pitty moue,
But with disdainefull lookes and tearmes of scorne
Commands him trauaile whether he was borne.
'T will almost make a Puritan to sweare,
To see an Asses Horse a cloake to weare.
When Christians must goe naked bare and thin,
Wanting apparell t'hide their mangled skin.
Vaine world vnto thy Chaos turne agen.
Since brutish beasts are more esteem'd then men.

Epigram 30.

LIeutenant Pusse from Cleaueland is return'd,
Where entring of a breach was sorely burn'd;
And from reuenge hee'l neuer be perswaded,
Till the low Countries he hath quite inuaded.
When his hot wrath makes Neatherlands to smoke,
He's bound for Deepe in France with irefull stroke,
But haue a care in these hot warres of France,
Least in a Pockie heat you spoyle your Lance.

Epigram 31.

A Loue-sicke Wooer would a Sonnet write,
In praise of her that was his hearts delight' [...]
Hoping thereby his wished loue to win,
And to attaine it, thus he did begin.
[Page 25]Seure of the Earth, and Empresse my Soule.
[...]Loue and Life, that doth my thoughts controule:
[...] Queene of my affections and desire,
[...] to AE [...]na, sets my heart on fire.
[...]y Golden Lockes, resembling brightest Amber;
[...] [...]it to grace some mighty Monarkes Chamber;
[...]eyes Eclipsing T [...] in his rising,
[...]y Face surpassing Natures best deuiung,
[...]y lips euaporates most sweet persumes,
[...]y roice the Musicke of the Spneares astumes.
[...]on wounds more then Loues shast and Bow,
[...]y red the Rose doth shame, thy white the Snow,
[...] Worlds wonder, Natures dearest Iewell,
[...] not thy vertues with thy beeing cruell,
[...] that art my Soules adored Saint [...]
[...]etrable to my woes complaint.
[...] the poore Bull finch spends the day in moanes,
[...] [...]ight he wasts in deepe heart-gnawing groanes.
[...] most filthy vgly odious Whore,
[...] whom he spends his substance and his store.
[...]sing millions of egregious lyes.
[...]rayse his Punckes foule feature to the skyes.

Epigram 32.

[...]ke how yon Lechers legs are worne away,
[...] With haunting of the Whore-hose euery day:
[...]nowes more greasie Panders, Bawds, and Drabs,
[...]ad eates more Lob sters, Articheck [...]s, and Crabs,
[...]w roasted Egges, Potato [...]s Muskadine,
[...]ers, and pith that growes [...] Oxes Chine:
[...]ith many Drugs, Compounds, and Simples store,
Which makes him haue a stomacke to a Whore,
[...] one day hee'l giue cre when 'tis too late,
[...]hen he stands begging through an Iron Grate.

Epigram 33.

Light finger'd Francis begging in the Iayle,
Did chance to see a friend of his passe by,
[...]inking his lamentations would preuaile,
[...]ad that some coyne would from his bountie stye,
These ancient friends, one thrall, and th'other tree,
[...]e hungry, lowsie, ragged, and forlorne:
The other [...]at with prodigality,
[...]akes him this answer mixt with pride and scorne,
What Franke (quoth he) art there for [...]le & Cakes?
Why how the D [...]uell comes this lucklesse crosse?
[...]h sir (quoth Franke) your mastership mist [...]kes.
[...]or I am heere for stealing of a Horse,
[...]roth I mistooke indeed, and [...]o [...]st thou,
[...]at this time I haue no money now.

Epigram 34.

MOunsieur Luxuri hath beene with a Puncke,
Wherby his worships purse is [...]hrodely shtunk,
And now for penance of his former ryet,
With good Duke Humfrey he must take his diet.
Thus with a cr [...] [...] [...]
[...]adge his case [...]

Epigram 35.

THere chanst [...]
[...]
The [...] an old man [...]
[...]
The [...] a Poet [...] and [...],
The [...] th a P [...]
These [...]
Who should [...]
Th [...] old man said that when he was a boy,
To [...] nine h [...]nd [...]ed [...] was [...] a toy,
To jumpe in plaine [...] [...] thir [...] [...] [...]
Then was acc [...] [...] [...].
The [...]raua [...]ler reply'd that he [...] [...].
The King of Pigmies, and the Fair, Queene,
And beene where triple headed [...],
Did guard the sulpheus [...] [...]
The Poet he had beene [...] H [...],
And rak'd from embers [...] [...]on
Old Saturnes down [...]all, and [...] royall rising,
With thousand fictions of his wits d [...]sing,
And for the Pa [...]nter scornes to come behinde,
He paints a flying Horse, a Golden, Hinde,
A Sagitary, and a grim wild man,
A two neckt Eagle, and a cole [...] blacke Swan.
Now reader tell me which of those toure Lyers,
Doth best deserue the whetstone for their hyers,

Epigram 36.

THough Death doe V [...]u [...]ers of life depriue,
Yet their extortions euer shall suruia [...]e.

Epigram 37.

MIraculous Monsters in the British clime;
Monsters of Nature sprungs from putred slime,
S [...] that pull'd the Ga [...]es of [...] downe,
Nor Libian Hercules whose [...] [...] [...]rowne,
Would m [...]z [...] strong Gyants, t [...] the Lyons rage,
Were not so strong as Gallants of this age:
Why you shall see on vp [...]r [...] [...]k [...] a [...]nd lacke,
Will beare fiue hundred Akers on his backe,
And walke as stourly as if it were no load,
And beare it to each place of his aboad,
Men of such strength I iudge it necesiary,
That none but such should Porters burdens [...]arry.

Epigram 38.

FOr Gods loue tell what gallant Gullis that,
With the great Feat [...]er, and the Beauer Hat [...]
O now I know, his name is Mounsieur Sh [...]se,
Great Cozen [...] german to Sir Cutb [...]rt [...]he [...],
All his reuenewes still he beates about him,
Whore-house nor ordinary neuer are without him.
[Page 26]False Dice, sharp Knife, and nimble nimming fingers,
Are his swor [...]e subiects and his tribute bring [...].
Thus dath h [...]swagger, sharke, steale, fil [...] & quarrell,
Vntill the Hangmans Wardrop hangs his parrell.

Epigram 29.

A Famous House in poasting hast is built,
[...] Porch with Pillars all beguilt,
Braue l [...]rie Chimnies pitty to defile them.
Pray make no fire, for the smoake will soyle them.

Epigram 40.

A Worthy Knight there is of ancient fame,
Ans sweet Sir Reuerence men do call his name:
By whose industrious policie and wit,
There's many things well tane were else vnfit:
If to a foule discourse thou hast prerence.
Before thy foule word, name Sir Reuerence,
Thy beastly tale most pleasantly will slip.
And gaine thee praise, when thou deteru'st the whip.
There's nothing vile that can be done or spoke,
But must be couered with Sir Reuerence Cloake,
His ancient pedigree who euer leekes,
Shall finde he's sprung from 'mongst the gallant Greekes,
Was Aiax Squire, great Champton to God Mars:
Pray God Sir Reuerence blesse your Worships ()

Epigram 41.

HVnting is all this Gentlemans delight,
Yet out of Towne his worship neuer rides;
He hunts inuisible, and out of sight,
For in the Citie still his Game abides.
He hunts no Lyon, Tygre nor the Bore,
Not Back, nor Stag, nor Hart, nor H [...]de, nor Hound,
But all his sport's in hunting of a Whore,
And in the chase no traua [...]le he will spare.
He hath one Dog for hunting of the Cunny,
Worth a wholekénell of your flip mouth'd hounds.
He will not part with him for any money,
But yet the Curre will course beyond his bounds,
But I aduise him to respect his lot,
Least too much heating make him pockie hot,

Epigram 42.

FAlling a sleepe, and sleeping in a dreame,
Down by the dale that flows with milk & cream,
I saw a Rat vpon an Essex cheese,
Dismounted by a Cambrain clad in Freeze.
To bid his worship eate I had no need.
For like a Serieant he began to feed.

Epigram 43.

A French and English man at Dinner sate,
And neither vnderstanding others prate
The Frenchman sayes, mange proface Mousieur,
The Englishman begins to storme and sweare:
By all the Diuels, and the Diuels dams,
He was not mangie but ith wrists and ha [...]s.

Epigram 44.

A Dead dead bargaine is a quicke quicke wife.
A quicke wife lyes ore long vpon ones hands [...]
But for a dead wife that hath lost her life
A man may sooner vtter then his Lands.
This Riddle greatly doth amaze my head,
That dead things should be quicke, and quicke thin [...]
Loe then Ile make an outcrie, woundrous strange,
If death doe any wife of life depriue:
I giue her Husband coyne to boot, and change:
And for his dead wife one that is aliu [...]:
Besides, Ile pay the buriall and the Feast,
And take my wife a gaine, when she's deceast.

Epigram 45.

MOmus sits mumming like an Anticke elfe,
Hates others good, nor doth no good himselfe

Epigram 46.

REader is any thing this Booke thee cost,
Thou need'st not deeme thy c [...] and labor lost [...]
'Twill serue the [...] well Tobacco for to drie,
Or when thou talkst with mother Anthonie,
'Twill serue for Muckenders for want of better,
So farewell Reader, I remaine thy debter.

Satyre.

THou that hast euer beene a rouing Thiefe,
A diuing Cu [...]purse, or a periur'd [...] laue,
And in all villanie hast b [...]ne the eni [...],
And with a brazen brow canst [...] braue,
That steal'st thy Pedegree from ancient houses,
And iet'st in broaking Sattin euery day:
That tak'st delight in stabbing and Carowses,
Not caring how thou lerst thy loose life shay,
Thou that hast beene a Traytor to thy P [...],
A great Arch villaine to thy Natiue foyle,
And wouldst by treacherie exile from thence,
The blested peace hath bene procur'd with toyle.
Thou that hast beene a Machimlian,
For damned s [...]igh [...]s, cone its, and policie:
Thou that hast been an Antichristian,
Or Schismaticke with blinded Heresie,
If any of these vile iniq [...]ities,
Haue beene the Axiom [...] of thy passed life;
Then view the Roles of old antiquities,
And see goods got with falshood, lost with strife,
There shall you see how Iustice euermore,
Hath poyz'd the Ballance, and vpheld the Sword,
How Grauity inspit'd with Wisedomes lore,
Hath Vertue honour'd, and foule vice abhorr'd.
[Page 27]How Treason hath beene seuer'd lim from lim.
How Theft and Murther there haue pay'd their hire,
How those that earst in wordly Pompe did swim,
Ho [...] [...]yld their fortunes in disgraces mire.
How Persurie hath forfeited his c [...]ros,
How Cheating's mounted on the Pillorie,
How gracelesse Impudents that nothing feares;
Doe end their dayes in loathed miserie.
How V [...]urie is plagaed with the Goat,
How Auarice complaineth of the Stone:
How gailtie Consciences are still in doubt,
How E [...]uie gnawes on honour to the bone,
How Lercherie is laden with the Poxe,
How Prodigalitle doth end with woe:
How Pandarisme is headed like an Oxe.
Because the Destinies appoint it so.
How Drunkennesse is with the Dropsie fraught,
And made his visage like a fiery Comet.
Who being full must haue the tother draught,
Till like a Swine he wallow in his vomit.
How dam'd Hypocrisie and painted zeale,
And outward shew of painted Holinesse:
(Doth like a Canker eate the publike weale)
All scornefull pride, yet seemes all lowlinesse.
To thee that read'st this, therefore be it knowne,
If any of these vices are immur'd
Within thy heart, not to the world yet showne:
If by this reading thou mayest be allur'd,
To turne thy tide of life another way,
And to amendment all thy thoughts incline
And to thy rebell will no more obey,
But seeke by vertuou [...] actions to combine
Fame to thy Friends, and terror to thy foe,
And say 'twas friendly counsell told thee so.

Satyre.

THis childish Anticke, doating pie-bald world,
Through which y e Diuel all black sins hath hurld
Hath beene so long by wickednesse prest downe.
From y e [...]reeze. Plow. swaine to th' Imperiall crown.
We haue so long in vice accustom'd beene.
That nothing that is wicked lookes like sin.
The glistring Courtier in his gaudie tire.
Scornes with his heeles to know his russet Sire.
The petrifogging Lawyer crammes vp Crownes,
From hobnaild Boores, & sheep skin country clown:
The gaping greedie, g [...]iping, Vsurer [...]
The Sonne of Hell, and Sathans treasurer:
The base ex [...]orting black sould bribing Broaker,
The Bane of Mankind and his Countries choaker.
The helhound whelpes the shoulder-clapping Seriant,
That cares not to vndoe the world for Argent.
The Post knight that will sweare away his soule,
Though for the same the Law his eares doe powle,
The smoakie black-lung p [...]f [...] Tobaccount:
Whose ioy doth in Tobacco sole consid.
The cholericke G [...]l that's [...]angled with a Drab,
And in her quarrell will his Father stab.
The baudie drie boand [...]cherous Baboone,
Would [...]aine repent [...] it is too soone.
The riming [...] [...] would be a Poet,
But that the [...] [...] not wit to shew it.
The wrinckled [...], and dim'd v [...]melian whore
That buyes and sels the poxe to [...] [...] slore.
The greasie eauesdropping do [...] [...] Pander,
That with a Punke to any man will wander.
The conveatching shister steales most briefe,
And when hee's hang'd heel c [...]ase to be a thiefe.
The drousie Drunkard will [...] and [...],
Till like a hog he tumble in his dr [...]st [...].
Besides, there's diuers other Hell bo [...]ne sinnes,
As some great men are wra [...]t in M [...]sers skin [...]es,
For feare of whose dislike, I [...] old me still,
And not bumbast them with my Ganders quill.
Consider with thy selfe Good Reader then,
That here thou hu'st amongst those wicked men,
Who on this earthly stage together keepe,
Like Muggots in a Putrified sheepe,
Whose damned dealing [...] blacke confusion brings,
By the iust iudgement of the King O. Kings.

Pastorall Equiuokes, or a Shep­heards complaint.

I That haue trac'd the mountaines vp and downe,
And pip't and chanted Songs and pleasant layes:
The whil'st my flocks haue frisk't it on the downe,
Now blinded Loue my sportiue pleasure layes,
I that on greenie grasse could lay me downe.
And sleepe as soundly as on beds of downe.
I then was free from loues all wounding blow,
My Ewes and Lambs then merrily could fold;
I car'd not then which way the wind did blow,
Nor had I cause with griefe my armes to infold.
I fear'd not Winters frost nor Summers Sunne,
And then was I a happy mothers sonne.
I then could haunt the Market and the Fayre,
And in a trolicke humour leape and spring,
Till she whose beautie did surpasse all fayre,
Did with her frosty necenesse nip my Spring.
Then I alas, alas vnhappy I,
Was made a captiue to her scornefull eye.
When loues fell shaft within my breast did light,
Then did my Cock horse pleasure all alight,
Lou's fierie flames Eclipsed all my light,
And she vnkinde, weyd all my woes too light.
Oh then my merry dayes away did hie,
VVhen I so low did dore on one so hie.
[Page 28]Her beautie, which did make Loues Queene a Crow,
Whose whi [...]e did shame the Lilly, red the Rose.
When Ph [...]bus messenger the Cocke did crow,
Each morne when from his Antipods he rose.
Despight of gates, and barres, and bolts and locks,
Hee'd kisse her face, and guild her golden locks.
Which makes my rest, like those that restlesse be,
Like one that's hard pursu'd and cannot flye:
Or like the busie buzzing humming Bee.
Or like the fruitlesse nought respected Flye.
That cuts the subtill ayre so swift and fast,
Till in the Spiders w [...]b hee's tangled fast.
As blustring Borcas rends the loftie Pine,
So her vnkindnesse rends and reaues my heart;
I weepe, I waile, I sigh, I groane I pine,
I inward bleed, as doth the wounded Hart.
She that alone should onely wish me well,
Hath drown'd my ioyes in Sorrowes ioylesse well.
The ruthlesse Tyger, and the Sauage Beare,
All Beasts and Birds of prey that haunt the Wood,
In my laments doe seeme some part to beare,
But onely she, whose feature makes me wood,
As barbing Autumne robs the trees of leaues,
Her storme like soorne me void of comfort leaues:
No castle, Fort, no Rampier or strong Hold,
But loue will enter without law or leaue;
Fot where affections force hath taken hold,
There lawlesse loue will such impression leaue,
That Gods, nor men, nor fire, eath, water, winde,
From loues strait lawes can neither turne nor winde.
Then since my haplesse haps falls out so hard,
Since all the fates on me their anger powre:
Since my laments and moanes cannot be heard,
And she on me shews her commanding power.
What then remaines, but I dissolue in teares.
Since her disdaines my heart in pieces teares.
Dye then sad heart in sorrowes prison pend,
Dye face that's colour'd with a deadly dye;
Dye hand that in her praise hath Poems pend,
Heart, Face, and hand, haplesse and helpelesse dye.
Thou Serieant Death, that rests and tak'st no bale.
'Tis onely thou must ease my bitter bale.
This said, he sigh'd, and sell into a sound,
That all the Hils, and Groues & neighbouring Plains,
The Ecchoes of his groanings seem'd to sound,
With repercursion of his dying plaines.
And where in life he scorned councell graue,
Now in his death he rests him in his graue.

Epitaph.

HEere lies ingrau'd, whose life fell death did sack [...]
Who to his graue was brought vpon a Beere:
For whom let all men euer mourne in Sacke,
Or else remember him in Ale or Beere.
He who in life, Loues blinded God did lead,
Now in his death lyes heere as cold as lead.

Sonnet. In trust lyes Treason.

THe fowlest friends assume the fairest formes,
The fairest Fields doth feed the soulest road:
The Sea at calm'st most subiect is to stormes,
In choyfest fruit the cauker makes aboad.
So in the shape of all belieuing trust,
Lyes toad-inucnom'd- [...]reason coached close,
Till like a storme his trothlesse thoughts out burst
Who canker-like had laine in trusts repose.
For as the Fire within the Flint confinde,
In deepest Ocean still vnquencht remaines:
Euen so the false through tru [...]st seeming minde,
Despight of truth the treason still retaines,
Yet maugre treason, trust deserueth trust,
And trust suruiues, when treason dyes accurst.

Death, with the foure Elements.

Two infant-twinnes a Sister and a Brother,
When out of dores was gone their carefull Sire,
And left his babes in the keeping with their Mother,
Who merrily sate singing by the fire.
Who hauing fill'd a tub with water warme,
She bath'd her girle (O ruthlesse tayle to tell)
The whilst she thought the other safe from harme,
(Vnluckily) into the fire he fell:
Which she perceiuing, lets her Daughter drowne,
And rashly ran to saue her burning Sonne,
Which finding dead, she hastily casts downe,
And all agast, doth to the water runne:
Where seeing t'other was depriu'd of breath,
She' gainst the earth falls down, & dasht her braines:
Her husband comes, and sees this worke of death,
And desperate hangs himselfe to ease his palnes.
Thus Death with all the Elements conspire,
To reaue mans life, Earth, Water, Ayre, and Fire.
FINIS.

An Inkhorne Disputation, or Mungrell conference, betwixt a Lawyer and a Poet.
With a Quarterne of new catcht Epigrams, caught the last Fishing.tide: sit for heaute sto­mackes in Ember-weekes. Fridayes, and Fasting-euens.

A Poet, and a Lawyer in dispute,
And one the other striued to confute;
The Poet talk't of great Apolloes shrine,
Of mount Pernassus, and the Muses nine,
The Lawyer's all in Cases, and in Causes,
In Fixes, in Fees, Recou'ries and in Clawses,
The Poet answers him with Elegies.
With Madrigals and Epithalamies.
The Lawyer with his Writs, and his Attachments
His Habeas Corpus, and his strong Apeachments:
His Executions, and his Molestanaums;
His Score.facies, and Testificanaums,
His desperate Outlaries, his Capiendoes,
His Sursararies, and his Proscdendoes.
The Poet at the Lawyer layes on loads,
Of Dactiles, Spondees, Annagrams and Oades.
Of Satyres, Epigrams. Apostrophies.
Of Stops, of Commaes, of Parenthesis.
Of Accents, Figures, Tautologia,
Of Types, Tropes, and Amphibologia.
Of Saturne, Ioue, of Mars, of Sol's hot ranging,
Of Venus, Mercurie, of Lunaes changing.
Of Tragicall and Comicall predictions,
Of Truth, of Suppositions and Fictions.
Of Homer, Virgil, Ou [...]d, Ta [...]o, Terence,
D [...]bartas, Petrach, Plutarke, Horace, from whence
Hee hath the Art, the Knowledge, and the skill
To win the Lawrell from the forked hill.
The Lawyer then begins to thunder lowder,
As if hee meant blow him vp with Powder.
With Actions, Cases, Capias vt legatums,
With Decemtales, Scandala Magnatums:
With his Sede fendendoes, and Demurs,
With Proffes, Supplicauits, Praemumrs:
With his Scitations, Latitats, Delayes.
And diuers more tearmes, which the Law displayes.
With Littleton, Fitzherbert, Ployden, Brooke,
With many a lawfull, and Law-wrested Booke.
The Poet boldly yet maintaines the field,
And with his Inkhorne termes disdaines to yeeld.
Vpon the Lawyer all a fresh hee comes,
With Eglagues, and with Epicediums,
With Palinodies, and Pentameters,
With sharpe Iambicks, and Hexamiters.
The Lawyer saw the Poet had such store,
Of pickeld words, said hold; wee'le talke no more.
For thou by mee, or I shall not by thee,
By prating neuer edified bee.
And for Conclusion, let vs both par [...] friends,
And for our profits this shall bee our ends.
Wee Lawyers liue vpon the times Abuses,
Whil'st Poets starue, by wa [...]ng on the Muses.

Epigram 1.

Vpon the world, Notwithstanding.
TOm swore to Kate, he neuer more would wooe her,
Kate wish't him hangd, when [...]ext he com's vnto her:
But Lou's great(litle) God the man cōmanding,
That Tom must needs goe to her Notwithstanding.
Kate rayld, and brawld and scoulded, curst, and band
And 'gainst Toms not withstanding did withstand.
At last the Notwithstanding had [...]or sooke,
And Kate affords her Tom a welcome looke.
Thus Not withstanding did the warres increase
And Stiffe withstanding made the friendly peace.

Epigram 2.

HAll and his wife into the water slipt,
She quickly Hall fast by the Codpeece gript
And reason good shee had to catch him there,
For hold she fast she need no drowning leare.
She oft had try'd and prou'd, and found it so,
That thing would neuer to the bottome goe.

Epigram 3.

GOod Besse forbeare, [...]be are thou canst full well
For thou for bearing, bear'st away the bell.
Thy patience in thy bearing men admires,
That bearing many wrongs yet neuer tires.

Epigram 4.

TIs onely womens manners, and their carriage,
That maketh them vnfit, or fit for Marriage.
Then Madge thy carriage still so good hath bin
Thou getst the Dlu'll and all by commings in.

Epigram 5.

MAll doth commend Sims comlinesse of slature,
But most she likes his freenesle of his Nature.
For she will sweare indeed la, and in truth:
That Sim euer a sweet natur'd youth.

Epigram 6.

A Messenger, (declaring of his mind)
In making curtesie, let a scape behind,
Hee looking backe, peace (Sirrha) peace (quoth he)
For it you talke, I sure will silent be.

Epigram 7.

THe Merchant (Drubo) hyer'd a seruant lasse,
And for her wages he doth duly pay.
From Christmas quarter vnto Michatlmas,
She hath it payd her to haire (they say)
Sometimes betwixt the quarters she doth take it,
For let it come when't twill shee'ie not forsake it.
And for her Master honest Drubo (hee)
He often payes her with a standing fee.

Epigram 8.

FIe what an idle life man liues (quoth Dicke)
How idely they their lin [...]s away do [...] passe:
Whil'st paint full women wins both praise and p.
Induring as they were compos'd of Brasse.
I thinke mens idlenesse was neuer such,
And women ne're were occupi'd so much.

Epigram 9.

IT is no wonder wherefore little Nell,
So bigge below the waste begins to swell:
For being hungry (in the darke she stole,
A hastie Pudding, and deuour'd it whole.

Epigram 10.

AS through the Citie I did lately passe,
At a Carts tayle, a Beadle whipt a lasse.
I slept vnto him, and I ask'd the cause,
Quoth he I whipt her, for she brake the Lawes:
In letting out her for most Roome for pelfe,
And (for her pleasure) backward lay her selfe.

Epigram 11.

A Little woman did a bigge man wed,
And he was loath to lye with her in bed,
For feare to hurt her: then she spyed a Mouse,
That play'd, and leapt, and skipt about the house.
O Husband would I had that Mouse quoth she,
Her skin would make a paire of gloues for me.
So wide (quoth he) I know twill neuer tretch,
Content your selfe (qd.she) young things will reach.

Epigram 12.

A Lustie wench as nimble as an Eele,
Would giue a Gallant leaue to kisse and feele,
His itching humour straight-way was in hope,
To toy, to wanton, dally, busse and grope,
Hold Sir (quoth she) my word I will not faile,
For you shall feele my hand, and kisse my Ta [...].

Epigram 13. On Mistresse Charitie.

IN very deed la, and sinceritie,
There is much Charitie in Charitie,
She hath so kinde, so free a liberall heart,
That euery man of her shall haue a part.

Epigram 14.

TWo Sheepe (in Law) did lately long contend,
And Wolfe the Lawyer must the matter end.
Who with his fine fines, and his firking fees,
D [...]awes both their pur [...]es to the very l [...]es,
The mony gone, the strife of Law did cease,
They fooles fell out, and beggers made the peace.

Epigram 15.

MAd dapper Dicke, doth very often shift.
And yet hee's lowz [...]e through the want of [...]

Epigram 16. On Madam Temperance.

A Man that went to traua [...]le swore to's wife,
He would loue Temp'rance as he lou'd his life,
Indeed he lou'd a faire and beauteous Dame,
(Although intemperate) Temp'rance was her name.
On whom he spent his loue, his lust, his [...].
He might as well haue spent it on a whore.

Epigram 17.

Doll held the Candle, Raph would faine be doing,
O when (qd. she) will you [...]lewdnes turne ye [...]
I prethee Doll [...]th Raph, regard my wo [...]ng,
In truth quoth Doll let be, or else ile burne ye.
Raph puts the light out, sweares to haue about,
And yet Doll burn'd him, though the fire was out.

Epigram 18.

A Sat an Inne I lately did a light,
I to my Chamber lighted was with lights:
Where a light Cur [...]z [...]n (of manners light)
Make glad my heart, my Liuer, and my Lights.
Yet when the Candle light was me berelt,
For all those lights I was in darkenesse left.

Epigram 19. Light vanitie.

WHat is more light then vapor, cork, or feather [...]
Or what more light then Vanity can be?
Compact, compose, compare light things together,
And nothing's lighter then a wanton she,
Yet heere's the Riddle, (past my wits to scan)
Her light nesse weighes downe many a heauy man.

Epigram 20.

'Twas ne're so hard (since first the world began)
To finde an honest true right, handed man.
Hath man two left hands? no; I pray how then,
Are men nor right hand, or left handed men?
The left hand now, may well be call'd the left,
For true and honest dealing it hath left.
And for the right hand, 'tis the wrong hand sure,
It selfe to wrong, or wrong doth still inure.
So to conclude (I doubt) aboue the ground
A true right handed man, can scarce be found.

Epigram 21.

MY Lawyer said the case was plaine for mee,
The Angell told him so hee tooke for fee:
But yet my Angell and my Lawyer lyed,
For at my Iudgement I was damnifi'd.

Epigram 22.

AS Gold is better that's in fire [...]ride,
So is the Banktide Globe that late was burn'd:
For where before it had a thatched hide,
Now to a stately Theator 'tis turn'd.
Which is an Emblem. that great things are won,
By those that dare throug [...] greatest dangers run.

Epigram 23.

GOod companie's in such request with Ione.
Tis death to her to walke or lye alone.

Epigram 24.

IScorne (quoth Au [...]) to be put downe by any,
And yet 'tis knowne she's bin put downe by many.

Epigram 25.

MY Ladies foysting bound (surnamed Muske)
Did chance to [...] vpon my Ladies buske:
But ouer all the world 't [...]: Heauen and Hell,
I thinke no Muske had euer stronger smell

Ep [...]

GOod Reader, if my harse vnlearned rimes,
(Wherewith my Muse [...] [...] these heed lesse times
Hath pleas'd thy pallat with: their true endeauour:
She then well thinke her selfe most fortunate,
And shall hereafter bee [...]
Her selfe in better labour, to perseuer,
I speake not to those, guorant lacke dawes,
That with their Canker [...] [...] [...]
Will seeme to [...] my [...] [...] [...]
But in all humblenesse I yeeld to these,
Who are detracting Ignorances foes:
And loues the labours of each good pretence.
Dislike and scorne may chance my booke to [...] her,
But kind acceptance bring: forth such another.
YOu that the [...] [...] [...]
Hee's very [...] [...] [...] [...]
But if that any [...]
[...] honest meaning [...] [...] [...]
To such in all [...]
From Booke are [...] [...] [...] bord.
I.T.
FINIS.

THE DOLPHINS DANGER: AND DELIVERANCE. Being a Ship of 220. Tunhauing in her but 36. men and 2. Boyes who were on the 12. of lanuary 1616. set vpon by 6 Men of Warre of the Turkes, hauing at the least 1500. Men in them, who fought with them the space of 5 houres and a halfe, yet to the glory [...]f God and the honour of our English Nation, both Ship and goods safely brought vp the Riuer of Thames and deliuered. Truely set forth by the appointment of Master EDVVARD NICHOLS, being Master of the said Ship.

The names of such men as were in the sayd Ship. These men were kild out-right, and buried a shore.

  • WAlter Penrose, the first man kild, being shot in the belly.
  • 2 Thomas Shepheard, quarter Ma­ster his head shot off.
  • 3 William Sweat Trumpetter, as hee founded in the sight had one arme shot off, yet hee founded till another great shot stroke off his other arme, with his Trumpet and all, then after hee was kild with a shot thorow the body.
  • 4 William Russell, quarter master, had one arme first shot off, afterward he was shot through & kild,
  • 5 Iohn Sands, the Crowne of his head shot off.
  • 6 Beniamin Cornell [...] a Boy shot in the throat kild.
  • 7 Dauid Fause, Masters mate, shot in the groyne, kild. These foure men dyed within 4 or 5 dayes & after were cast into the Sea.
  • 8 Iohn Black [...]t [...] quarter M [...]his leg maim'd and burnt blind, yet he labored to quench the ship being fired.
  • 9 Thomas Worger a youth, the Masters seruant, his shoulder blade shot off, and liued three dayes.
  • 10 William Iames, Trumpetter, burn'd with wild fire, that he flamed like a fierie man all ouer then lohn Reff Purser cast water on him, he liued 5 dayes in great paine; in the fight an arrow came betwixt the Maisters legs at the helme and ran into the laid Iames his leg which the Maister puld out.
  • 11 Iohn Prestin, a youth, kild with a musket.
These following, were maim'd and hurt, and are li­uing.
Robert May, Masters mate, shot in the thigh.
Thomas Wright gunner with shot and splinters hurt in twelue places.
Tho: Daniel, burnt with powder, and lost an eye.
Roger Ginner, wounded in the head with splinters.
Rob: Downs the Masters boy, shot in the belly li [...]s.
These men are aliue vnhurt.

Edward Nichols Master, shot with a small shot, that tore his hose and stockins through, and gaue his leg a scatre. and 4 times shot through the [...]Fra [...] Constable Boat swaine, Iohn Rophe pu [...] William Lu­cas Carpenter, Tho Hobs Gunners mate, Will Moore quarter Gunner, Wil. Colluel Steward Rob Graue Chi­rurgion. Iohn Adiney, Couper Christe, Austen C [...] [...] son, Hump. Lee, Boatsons mate, Wil, Renfr [...] quart M. Will. Chalicom, Isa [...]e Watlington, Trumpetters. Thee Anderson, Thomas Spurden, Nicho: Wilkingson, Henry Low, Cornelius Scot, Philip a welchman, Saylers, The rest were passengers.

FINIS.

A FIGHT AT SEA. Famously fought by the Dolphin of London, against fiue of the Turkes men of Warre and a Sa [...]tie, the 12. of L [...], Anno Dom. 1616.

THe Magnanimitic and worthy resolution of this our English Nation, from time to time in­dureth the true touch and try­als of the Sea in deepe extre­mitie: whereby other Coun­tries (not onely admires there­ [...], but ties to the same a deserued commendati­on:) Amongst many other such like Aduen­tures I am imboldened to commit to your cen­ [...]re the Accidents of this our late Voyage and returne from Zant into England, which happe­ned as hereafter followeth.

Hauing at Zant, at the end of the yeare,1616. [...]shed our businesse, and laden our Ship for England, being named the Dolphin of London, of the Burthen of 280. Tunne or thereabouts, ha­uing in the same some 19. pieces of Ordnance, and 9. Murtherers, manned with 36. Men, and two Boyes, the Master thereof one Mr. Nichols, a man of much skill, and proued experience; who making for England, wee came from Zant, the first day of Ianuary, 1616. the winde being North and by East, when with a prosperous gale, by the 8. day in the Morning we had sight of the Island of Sardaine, the wind being then come Westerly, the 9. in the in the morning, we stood in for Callery, and at noone the wind being Sou­therly we came close by the Towers, where some two leagues off wee made the Fight, which day at night the wind growing calme, wee sailed to­wards the Cape, the 10. day wee had very little wind or none at all, till it was two of the clocke in the afternoone, which draue vs some three leagues Eastward from the Cape Pola: where we [...]pied a Fleet of Ships vpon the maine of Sar­daine neere vnto a Road called Callarie, belon­ging to the King of Spaine, being the 12. day of Ianuarie, on which day in the Mornings watch, about 4 of the clocke, wee had sight of a Sayle making from the shore towards vs, which draue into our minds some doubt and feare, and com­ming neere vnto vs wee espicd it to bee a Sattie, which is a Ship much like vnto an Argosey, of a very great burthen and bignesse, which percei­uing, we imagined some more Ships not to bee farre off, whereupon our Master sent one of our companie vp into the maine tip, where he disco­uered fiue sayle of Ships one after another, com­ming vp before the wind, being then at West Southwest, who in a prospectiue glaffe percei­ued them to be the Turkes men of Warre: The first of them booning by himselfe before the wind, with his Flag in the maine-top, and all his sayles gallantly spread abroad, after him came the Admirall and the Vice-Admirall, and after them two more, the Reare-Admirall and his fel­low, being fiue in number, all well prepared for any desperate assault, wherevpon we immediate­ly made ready our Ordinance and small shot, and with no little resolution prepared our selues to withstand them, which being done, we went to prayer, and so to dinner, where our Master gaue vs such noble incouragement, that our hearts euer thirsted to proue the successe, and be­ing in readinesse for the fight, our Master went vpon the Poope, and waued his Sword three times, shaking it with such dauntlesse courage as if he had already wonne the victorie, this being done wee seconded him with like forwardnesse, whereupon hee caused his Trumpets to sound, which gaue vnto vs much more encouragement then before, and being within shot of them, our Master commanded his Gunner to make his le­uell, and to shoot, which he did, but missed them all, at which the formost of them bore vp apace, [Page 34] for he had the wind of vs, & returned vs as good as wee sent so betwixt vs for a great space was a most fierce encounter, and hauing aduantage of vs by reason of the wind, about 11. or 12. of the clocke they layd vs aboard with one of theyr Ships, which was of 300. Tunne or thereabouts, and had in her 35. Pieces of Ordnance, and about 250. Men, the Captaine thereof was one Walsin­gham, which seemed by his name to bee an Eng­lish man, and Admirall of the Fleet, for so if sig­nified by the Flag in his maine top, hauing (as I said) boarded our Ship, hee entred on the Lar­bord quatter, where his men, some with Sabels which we call Fauchins, some with Hat [...]hets, and some with halfe Pikes, where they stayed some halfe an houre or thereabout, tearing vp our naile-bords vpon the Poope, and the trap-hatch, but we hauing a Murtherer in the round house, kept the Larbord side clee [...]e, whilst our men with the other Ordnance and Musquets playd vpon their Ships: yet for all this they plyed our Gallery with small shot in such sort, that wee stood in great danger to yeeld, but at the last we shot them quite thorow and thorow, and they vs likewise, but they being affraid they should haue beene sunke by vs, bore a head off our Ship, and as hee passed along wee gaue them a broad side, that they were forced to lay by the ley, and to mend his leakes: This Fight continued two houres by our Glasse and better, and so neere the shore, that the dwellers thereupon saw all the be­ginning and ending, and what danger we stood in, for vpon the shore stood a little house, where­in was likewise turned a glasse all the time curing the Fight, which measured the houres as they passed, and this was Walsinghams part.

Now for Captaine Kelleyes Ship, that came likewise vp with his Flag in the maine top, and another ship with his Flag in the Foretop, which Ships were at least 300. Tunne a peece, and had in each of them 25. Pieces of Ordnance, and a­bout 250. Men, so they laid vs abord on the Star­bord quarter, and the other on the Larbord, where entring our Ship thicke and threefold, with their Semiters, hatchets, halfe pikes and o­ther weapons, put vs in great danger both of the losse of our Ship and our liues, for they perfor­med much manhood and many dangerous ha­zards, amongst which there was one of the company that desperatly went vp into our mai [...] top to fetch downe our Flag, which being spy [...] by the Steward of our ship, presently shot hi [...] with his Musquet that hee fell headlong into the Sea, leauing the Flag behind him, so these [...] Ships fought with vs with great resolution, playing vpon vs with their Ordnance and small sho [...] for the space of an houre and a halfe, of who [...] we receiued some hurt, and likewise they of v [...] but when they saw they could not preuaile, no [...] any way make vs to yeeld, they bore vp and pa [...]sed from vs to lay their ships by the Lee to sto [...] their leakes, for we had grieuously some and ba [...] tered them with our great Ordnance, and th [...] was the second attempt they made vpon vs.

Now for the third, there came two more o [...] Captaine Kelleyes ships of 250. Tunne a peece [...] that in each of them had 22. Pieces of Ordnance and at the least 200. Men all well prouided a [...] might bee, which was as we thought too great [...] number for vs, being so few in our ship, but God that was our friend, gaue vs such strength and successe that they little preuailed against vs, fo [...] at their first comming vp, notwithstanding all their multitude of men, we shot the one of them quite thorow and thorow, and layd him likewise by the Lee, as we had done the others before, but the other ship remaining, layd vs aboard on the Starbord side, and in that quarter they entred our ship with their Semiters, Fauchions, halfe Pikes and other weapons, running too and froe [...] vpon the deck crying still in the Turkish tongue, Yeeld your selues, yeeld your selues, promising wee [...] should be well vsed, and haue part of our goods deliuered backe, with such like faire promises, but wee giuing no care vnto them, stood suflie in our defence, chusing rather to die, then to yeeld, as it is still the nature and condition of all English ­men, and being thus resolued, some of our men plyed our Ordnance against them, some played with the small shot, some with other weapons, as Swords, and halfe Pikes and such like, in middest of which skirmish, it so happened by ill chance that our Ship was fired, and in great danger to bee lost and cast away, had not the Lord in his mercy preserued vs, and sent vs meanes happily to quench it, but now marke the accident, the [Page 35] f [...] being perceiued by our enemies to burn [...] [...]agiously, and thinking that our Ship would [...] therewith beene sudainly burned to the wa­ter, they left vs to our fortuines, falling a [...] of from vs, and so we put to the shore vnder the lit­tle house for some succour, where we let an An­chor fall thinking to ride there all that night, which we had no sooner done, but we saw ano­ther ship beare vpon vs, whereupon we were sore frighted and so forced to let ou [...] Anchour fl [...]p, and so set sayle to get better succour, putting in­to the Road betweene the two little ho [...]s where we lay fiue dayes, mending the bruites and l [...]kes of our ship: the [...] receiued in the aforesaid sight, were [...]. Men and one Boy which were killed outright, and there were hurt eyght men and one boy more: but the Lord doth know what damage we put them to, and what number we flew in their ships.

The Master of our ship beeing at the Helme, was shot twice betwixt the legs: And the Chy­ [...]gion dressing the wounds of one of our men, a Ball of Wild-fire [...]elt into his Ba [...]on, which he [...]inly cast-into the Sea, otherwise it had greatly endangered vs. The Turkes were aboord and founded their Trumpets, yet notwithstan­ding our men assaulted them so [...]rcely, that they forced them off, and the Boson (seeing them flye) most vndantedly with a whistle [...]lourd them to the skirmish, if so they durst. The Captaines of three of their ships were English men, who tooke part with the Turkes thus to rob and spo [...]le vp­on the Ocean, their names were Walsingham, Kelley, and Sampson.

Vpon the 13. of Ianuary there came aboord certaine Spaniards in the morning betimes, to wines what hurts we had receiued, who seeing our men dead, went a shore with vs, and shewed vs where we might bury them, but as we were bu­ [...] in making their graues and couering the bo­dies with earth, there came sayling by a Flemish Ship of twelue score tunne, which had in it some fiue or six thousand pounds, which had beene chased with those men of warre that had fought with vs before, all which money they brought in along Boate to the shore, and left in the Ship onely the men, which were 16.Sailers and two Boyes, that afterwards within two dayes brought the [...]aid ship into the [...] not [...] at all indangered God be praised.

[...] the 15 of the [...] when wee [...] [...] [...] [...] as God would [...] [...] [...] [...] tempest [...] [...] [...] [...] of weather as taine [...] [...] [...] [...] that we thought we [...] got [...] [...] from the Road where [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] which storme and tempest these [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] man that had beene [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] ther bu [...]all, and to when the Wind and Sea a little ca [...]es, we let vp [...] in [...] forward: but within three [...] after, webs [...]d th [...]e men more in the [...] the [...] [...]one we arri­ued in the Road or Callery, and [...]y at anchor, where againe [...] [...] ship, wee found it [...] and [...] seuerall places, one in the gun-room [...], another betweene the Deckes, the third [...] [...], and the fourth in the Ma­sters round [...]on [...] in Callery we mended our Ship, and [...]ured [...] men there to helpe vs to stop her Leakes, and [...] all things most fit­ting for our Voyage homewards, vpon the 30. day of Ianuary wee committed our fortunes a­gaine vnto the Sea, and so leaur [...] Callery wee can [...] forward with [...] Frenchman, who was bound to a place called Orestone, some [...]0; Leagues from Callery, where after 2. dayes we left his compa­ny being the 1.day of February, and after that putting forwards still toward [...] England, wee are now by the will of God, most lately arriued, and our Ship after so many ouer­passed dangers receiued into the Thames neare London, to the great ioy and comfort of the Owners thereof:

God be praised.

FINIS.

A FAMOVS FIGHT AT SEA. Where foure English Ships vnder the command of Captaine IOHN WEDDELL, and foure Dutch Ships, fought three dayes in the Gulph of Persia neere Ormus, against 8. Portugall Gallio [...]s, and 32. F [...]gots. As also, the memorable Fight and losse of the good Ship called the Lyon, with the barbaron [...] Crueltie of the En [...] truly declared.

DEDICATED To the right Worthy, Generous, and well experienced Commander Captaine IOHN WEDDELL, late Generall of the East-India Fleet.

WOrthy Sir, hauing written the true manner of your late Famous, perilous, and fortunate Fight with the Portugals in the Pos [...] Gulph, and knowing that Bookes without Patrons are like father­lesse Children, I imagined that it was better to send it to you for succour and protection, than to any other whomsoeuer; for the most part which is herein by Relation, I am assured that you doe know to bee ture by Action, and my Pen hath but only superficially pratled of those things w ch you saw, did, & suffered. I therfore humbly intreat you to accept this poore Fish out of your owne Ocean, this sheepe of your owne fold, this cloa [...]h of your owne weauing, and this deserued memorie of part of your worthy won Repu­tation. Thus not doubting but your affabilitie is correspondent to your appro­ued knowledge and knowne sufficiencie, I commit both my selfe and this Re­lation to your acceptance and good censure, my best wishes still attending on you, that your fortunes be euer equall to the goodnesse of your minde.

E [...]er at your command to be imployed, IOHN TAYLOR.

TO THE COVRTEOVS READER.

THe Eternall prouidence hauing diuided Mankind into many Kingdomes, Climates, People and Nations, yet to the end there should bee an vnitie or mutuall societie amongst all men, hee hath permitted Traffique and Commerce betwixt Nation and Nation, Realme and Realme, N [...] tion and Shipping being as it were the fleeting Bridges, for the transportation and ex [...] [...] and Merchandize, from Countrey to Countrey, that though God hath not inriched any our [...] [...] Countrey with all things, (the one hauing what the other hath not:) yet to maintaine [...] S [...] [Page 37] [...]us chiefly for his owne glory in [...] sp [...]ing his g [...]fts) Commerce and traff [...]que [...] [...] at all [...], and in all Ages; for the which noble imployments our Kingdome of [...] [...] [...] [...] feriour to any Nation for the abilitie and worthinesse of Merchants [...]. and I thinke not equalle [...] any for goodnes and sufficiencie of skilfull Nauigators, and Marr [...]ners, and strength of shipping, and [...].

So that neither the parching heat of Lybia and AEthiopia, or the [...]ming [...] of Groen­land, or the Hyperborean [...] Regions, neither the sarre remotenesse of China Eastwards, or the vt­termost bounds of the new world America Westwards, the dangers of Stormes, Gusts, Fla [...]es, Tempests, Sp [...]ts, and Tornadoes, or Monsoones, the hazard of Shoales, Rockes, Leakes, Enemies, Pirates barba­rous and cruell Nations, vnwholsome and vntemperate Ayres and Climates Sea or Land Monsters, or what perils may be named or thought vpon, hath euer daunted or hindred our Merchants and Marmers prosecute and accomplish their continuall, laudable and profitable vndertakings.

Amongst whom our Noble, Worshipfull, and worthy East-India Merchants and Aduenturers, may in these later times be held us superlatiue to those of former Ages, their mest [...]n able charge, their migh­ty force, their valuable returnes, and their aduenturous hazards rightly considered. All which being no part of my purpose to treat of, I referre the Reader onely to the description of two famous Sea-fights, performed betwixt the English and the Portuga [...]s, which, though the newes of it could not be brought hither so soone as if it had beene done vpon the Coast of Zealand or Flandets, yet, as soone as wind and weather could bring it, I had it, and with what time I could well spare I haue written, is, assuring my selfe of what I dare assure my Reader, which is, that all is true. In which regard, I thought it vnfit to let it lie buried in obliuion, or the hatefull and ingratefull graue of forgetfulnesse. In it is valour de­scribed, and manifested in the liues and deaths of many of our English, and extreame crueltie and inhu­manitie in the Enemie. But to the matter.

A BRAVE SEA-FIGHT in the Gulph of PERSIA.

4. English Ships.
  • 1 The Royall Iames, Admirall,
  • 2 The Ionas, Vice-Admirall.
  • 3 The Starre, Reare-Admirall.
  • 4 The Eagle, fourth Ship. Iohn Weddell, chiefe Comman­der of the English Fleet.
4. Dutch Ships.
  • 1 The South Holland, Admirall.
  • 2 The B [...]ta [...], Vice-Admirall.
  • 3 The M [...]ud of Dort, Reare-Admirall.
  • 4 The W [...]a [...]pe, fourth Ship. Albert Bicke [...], chiefe Commander of the Dutch Fleet.

THe 30. of Ianuary, 1624. being Fri­day, the English and Dutch Ships being in the Road of Gombroone, there arriued a small Frigot belon­ging to a place neere Chowle, (which is in warre with the Portugals shee came in be­tweene the Maine and Ormus, to whom the Ge­neral of the English, Capt. Iohn Weddell, [...]ent M r. Andrew Evans, in a little Boat called a Gellywat, to know from whence he came, and whether hee could giue vs any intelligence of the Portugall Armado; his answer was, that hee came from a place some 8. or 10. Leagues to the Southwards of Chowle, laden with Pepper and other Merchan­dize, and withall hee said, that on the Saturday before, being the 24. of Ianuary, hee was off the Cape called Cape Gordell, na [...]fe way betwixt the Coast of Ind [...], and Cape Iaques, where to Ste­ward off [...] [...]aw 8. great Gallions, and cer­taine Frigots, which Frigots gaue him chase, but hee kept himselfe so neere the shore, that they could not fetch him vp; and this was the first information o [...] the neere approach of the [...]nemie.

The 31. of Ianuary in the morning, the English and Dutch fleet heard three peeces of Ordnance goe off from [...] Castle, (a strong hold, and in warre with the Portugals) the Captaine of the [Page 38] said Castle hauing before promised the Generall (Captaine Weddell tha [...] [...]f he descryed any crosse Sailes or Ships in sight of the Castle, that then he would discharge those Pe [...]ces as a warning vnto him, which accordingly he did.

Wherupon a man was sent vp to the top-mast head in the English Admirall, to looke abroad, who being vp, presently cryed a saife, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. with many Frigots in their company, then the Generall commanded the Gunner to shoot off a peece of Ordnance, to giue warning to all the flect to put themselues in readinesse for the entertainment of the Enemie putting also the bloudy Colours out, as likewise the Dutch Ad­mirall did the like, with all speed getting their men & boats from the shore, weighing their An­chors of all hands, and getting vnder [...]le with all possible celerity, with courage and resolution they stood towards the Enemy, (whose drift was to haue taken the English and Dutch at Anchor vnprepared) but their expectations were frustrate Towards 8. of the clocke at night it fell calme, so that our ships came to an Anchor, when the Commander of the Dutch fleet (named Albert [...] Becker) sent his M [...]ster of his ship, accompanied with some other Merchants, and Masters aboord the Royall Iames, informing Captaine Weddell that their Commander had sent them to see now he did, and what hee thought the Ships and Fri­gots to be that they had descryed. The Comman­der Weddell answered, that they could bee no o­ther than the Portugall Armado, which had bin two yeeres preparing to meet with the English and Dutch, and that now they were come in search of them, from Goa, vnto this place, ho­ping first to conquer both our and their Nation, and afterwards to fall to worke vpon Ormus, Kishme, and Gombroone, to destroy our setled trade, and to extirpe and [...]oot vs out with all ho­stility and dishonour. Then the Dutch deman­ded Captaine Weddels resolution, concerning so common and open an Enemy, he told them that his resolution was, for the glory of God, the ho­nour of his Nation, the profit of worthy Imploy­ers, and the safeguard of liues, ships and goods, he would fight it out, as long as a man was liuing in his ship to weare a Sword, and that he doub­ted not but the other three ships vnder his com­mand, were all of the same mind and courage; to whom the Dutchmen answered, that they were of the like resolution, and would sticke as close to the English as their shirts to their backs, and so in friendly manner, each tooke leaue of other for that night.

The 1. of February, being Sunday, the Dutch Admirall weighed anchor an houre before day­light, and the English presently after him, but the Dutch got the start of vs all, though we made all the Saile we could; at last the English came vp to him with their whole fleet, but he discharged the first shot at the Portugall Admirall, who present­ly answered him with three for one. The friends and foes being in Musket shot of each other, it fell calme, whereby our ships would not worke but as the tide did set them, that when the Portu­gals were Boord and Boord, they had a great ad­uantage of vs with their Frigots, that rowed thē cleare one off another often, which helpe we wan­ted, thus we lay some 4. or 5. houres pelting and beating one another with our Ordnance, the whilst the Frigots plyed vs with small shot, as fast as they could, the Royall Iames being forced to keep the Barge at head to pull the Ships head to & fro; but towards the afternoone there arose a fine gale, but the Enemy had the wind of vs, wherevpon the Admirall and Vice-Admirall of the Portugals bore vp roome vpon vs, making ac­count to [...]ay the Royall Iames aboord; the one on the Starboord, the other on the La [...]boord side, which Captaine Weddell perceiuing, scarce being able to shun it, he called to the Master, and told him the purpose of the Enemy, to auoyd which danger, he commanded the Master to beare a little lasking to separate them further each from other, that he might haue more roome to go be­tweene them, the Vice Admirall of the Enemy seeing the Iames beare vp so lasking, she likewise bore vp with her, when suddenly Captaine VVed­dell perceiued there was hope to weather him, caused his Mizzen, and Mizzen top sayle to be set, and so presently got the wind of him, edging close vp with the Admirall, beeing within Musket­shot of them both; the Portugall Admirall put to stay, by which meanes the Iames got the Wind of him also, hauing much a­doe to get out a w [...]eather off him, comming so [Page 39] close vnder his sterne, that his boats were close at [...]ur ships side as she sheared by, when presently [...] gaue him a whole broad side, cuery shot [...]king him fore and after, tacking forthwith, and standing after him. Thus the first dayes [...]ight lasted till fiue at Night, wherein the Roy­all Iames lost eight men, and some others which [...]ad some small hurts: Also this day the Dutch lost their chiefe Commander, a brane and va­liant, fellow, who liued and dyed nobly in the Bed of honour. This Fight was terrible and fierce for the time, for the Royall Iames alone spent neere seuen hundred great shot, and all the other ships English and Dutch, did proporti­onably doe the like. The Sunne beeing for, the Enemie sell off, and came to an Anchor, at the East end of Kishme, the English being North­north-west from them two Leagues, thus was concluded the first dayes fight.

Munday the second of Februarie, beeing Candlemas day, the Wind beeing very little which below off from Kishme, so that the Enemy had the aduantage of it, but neuer offered to make vse of it, to make roome towards vs; the English and Dutch being imployd busily [...] to fit vp their torne rigging and tackling, and stop­ping such dangerous shot as they had receiued in the Fight betwixt wind and water.

Also the same day in the afternoone, there was a meeting aboord the Royall Iames, where both the English and Dutch concluded, that they would giue the Enemy fight the next mor­ning and that the Royall Iames should be the lea­ding, ship, and the Admiral of the Dutch should second her, and that they should goe directly to the Enemies Admiral, not striking higher or low­er till the Iames came side by side with her. So the 3. of F. being Tuesday, both the flects weigh­ed Anchors at breake of day, hauing the weather gage of the enemy, the great Iames stood right with the Admiral of the Portugals, w ch was head­most but one; but comming neere them, they weaued to Leeward with their bright arming Swords, and we the like to them, they saluted vs with a whole broad side, but Captaine Weddell cōmanded his men not to answer them, til they were brought neerer within danger, w ch charge was obeyed, but being come neere the Admiral, and another of their ships, the great Iames be­stowed vpon each of them a whole broad side, making them both to beare vp, the one a port, & the other a starbord, by w ch meanes, one of their ships was cut off and sundred from thē, and was chased 3. or 4. houres by the Eagle and Weasope, the hope of the English and Dutch being, that she should no more returne to her fleets compa­ny, the Iames following still the Admirall and Vice Admiral [...] got vpon the Admirals side, ha­uing the Vice-Admirall on his starbord bow; in­somuch that this dayes sight grew very hot, for often the Iames was in thickest of the enemy be­ing at one time all round about vs; but our men so plyed their Ordnance vpon them, that they all refused to stand by vs, but fled all before vs as chaffe, dust, or smoake before the winde. In this sight the Iames got betweene one of their fleet and singled her our, lying by her s [...]les with [...]ore­saile, and sore-topsaile, a backe stayes, so neere, as a man might quoit a Bisket Cake into her, when straight Master Iohnson came vp in the sterne of the Iames, so neere, as he could hardly keepe cleare, to whom Captaine Weddell called, wil­ling him to clap the Portugall aboord on the Larboord quarter (whilst the Iames lay thun­dring vpon him with her great Ordnance) hee promised to do it, but after he refused it, this Ves­sell had not so sew as 500. shot thorow her Hull, Masts, Sailes, and Yards, before the got cleare.

Note, that in the morning Cap. Weddell had fitted a Portugall Vessell (which had beene for­merly taken with some Cockernuts) and purpo­sed to haue fired her thwart the Admirals l [...]awse she being appointed to come between the Dutch Admiral, and the Ionas, but through disaster, or rather negligence in Darby the Master, who came not vp according to his appointed place, she was chased by the Frigots (she hauing but ten men in her) being of no defence, they were forced to set her on fire farre from the fleet, and so the men betooke themselues to a Barge, which was left them for their safety, by which meanes the Generals proiect was disappointed.

All this third day at night this Vessel burnt, and two houres before day-light, whether shee was towed by some of the Enemies boates or no, is vnknowne, but shee came bur­ning [Page 40] amongst the English and Dutch Fleetes, and forced them from their Anchors by slipping their Cables, which Anchors they tooke vp some three dayes after.

The 4. of February in the morning, both Fleetes made towards the Enemies, who were vnder saile, and made all the hast they could to get vnder the Iland of Lowracke, which lyeth some eight or nine miles from Ormus, vnto which Iland their Frigots went ahead, conducting them in ouer a Barre, whom the English and Dutch followed as farre as with safety they durst hauing neither the helpe of Pilots to shun the dangers of the place, or Frigots to goe a head as conductors, as the Enemy had. Besides, there might haue beene Ordnance [...] planted a shore by the Enemy, which would haue beene greatly to their aduantage, or otherwise in the darke night they might haue chained two or three Frigots together, and turning them vpon them, vpon the Ebbe thwart their hawse might much haue in­dangered them, they knowing the Enemie to be implacable, malicious, and politique; these rea­sons caused them to follow them no further at this time, but to come to an Anchor a League from them, when Captaine Weddell sent for the chiefe of the Dutch, whose resolution was to go backe againe for Gombroone, there to dispatch our Merchants affaires. So Anchors were weigh­ed, the Iames giuing them a shot for a farewell, and they answered her with the like, they all get­ting into Gombroone Road that night, where they speedily fell to worke to repaire the ruines of warres, in fitting of Masts, Yards, Sailes, rigging and stopping breaches, all which in 3 dayes was accomplished, leauing the Portugall like a Theefe in his Mill, or a Fox in his hole, not minding to triee as yet the hazard of another bout.

In this fight their Reare Admirals maine Mast was shot by the boord, their Vice-Admirals maine top-mast was likewise shot by the boord, their Admirals Mizzen-mast, Flag, and flag­staffe shot by the boord, and her Hull much rent and torne. Their fourth ship had the head of her maine mast shot by the boord. Another of their ships had all her top-masts shot by the boord. In conclusion, all their eight ships were so torne and tattered, that they had neither good Masts, Sailes, or Yards to helpe themselues with, no tide sides to beare saile vpon. Thus it pleased th [...] Almighty to giue the victory of the day vnto those that relie vpon his promise; to that grea [...] God be all glory for euer, and let all true Chri­stians say Amen.

The 13. of February being Friday, the English and Dutch Fleets set saile at day-light from th [...] Road of Gombroone, hauing also with them foure Iunks, other vessels of lading, vnder the conduct [...] and charge of the Dutch, which as soone as th [...] Enemie perceiued, they let slip their Cables an [...] slipped from their harbour at the Iland of Law racke, which is foure or fiue Leagues from the Roade of Gombroone, the Enemie making all the sayle he could to Sea-boord of the English and Dutch all the day till Sun-set; when they were got within Saker-shot of each other, and a good bearing gale, they all kept company together all night.

This 13. at night, it blew so hard at West [...] south-west, that one of their great Gallions bor [...] ouer-boord the head of her maine Mast, close vn­der the hownds, not being able to hoyst vp he [...] maine sayle, she was forced to steere alongst with her fore-saile, fore-top-saile, her Sprit-saile, and Mizzen, the wind being at West-South-west, they steered away South and by East.

The 14. in the morning the Dutch Fleet stay­ing, and bearing vp vnto the Iunke, the night past was a starre so farre, that the English Fleet could scarce descry them; so the Iames laid her fore-saile a backe staies, and staid for them, the Portugall neuer offering to alter his course, but kept on still.

The same day about noone, the Dutch being come vp with the English, it was agreed be­tweene them, that the Royall Iames should giue the first on-set vpon their Admirall, and the rest of the Fleet to second her; so about two of the clocke that afternoone the two Fleets came to weather of the Enemies Admirall, receiuing the first shot from their Vice-Admirall, and present­ly a whole broad side from their Admirall, both sides comming as neere each other as they could but well keepe cleane of each other, they [...]ell to it of all hands pell mell, the Ordnance going off as fast as small shot, the Iames for her part giuing [Page 41] them two broad sides, she then edged vp in the winde. laying her fore-saile and fore-top­style, abacke stayes, as well to giue leaue to the [...] (who was second to the Iames) as also to suffer the Portugall Admirall to shoot a head, which the suddainly did, then the Iames filling her top sayle the second time, bore vpright with the Enemie Admirall, plying her whole broad side so fast vpon him, that he had scarce any lea­ [...] to returne any shot backe, whilst the English and Portugall Admirals were so nere each other, that they could hardly cleare themselues. In this time whilst our ships plyed the Enemies Ad­mirall, (not so much looking after or heeding the other ships) the Vice-Admirall with the rest of their fleet were left a sterne, their Admiralll ply­ed very hard vpon the Iames, giuing and receiuing many dangerous shots, the Iames being shot be­tweene winde and water often, and had more [...]oyle in her Sayles and Rigging, than she had done any of the two dayes fight before, then the third time, comming side by side with each o­thers Fleet, they let driue one at another like Thunder in the ayre, the Iames comming vp with the Admirall (the great ship of Damon, who the first dayes fight lost her maine Mast)crept in be­twixt the Iames and the Portugall Admirall, ly­ing as a Bulwa [...]ke to weather off her, to receiue all that might be put vpon her, and indeed all that was meant to haue beene bestowed vpon tbe Admirall was still plyed vpon that great Hulke, as likewife the Ionas and Dutch, did con­tinue this third dayes fight till day-light was shut in, the Portugals edging vp to get nere the Arabi­an shore, insomuch that at 8. at Night both Eng­lish and Dutch were faire by it, chasing them in.

This Night the English and Dutch steered a­way their course for Surat, the Portugals steering for Swar, a place where they haue a Castle.

The Royall Iames with the rest were forced to giue ouer the Chase for these reasons.

FIrst, for that the time of yeere was so farre spent, that they should not haue time enough to deliuer their goods at Surat, and so to goe cleere off the Coast, before the Westerly Mon­s [...]ne, which is a Wind that blowes at West sixe moneths together, beginning in Aprill, would be come, and so endanger the Ships in getting off againe.

A second reason was, that the Royall Iames had but 31. Barrels, and some 500. Cartreges fild with Powder, and some 600. shot, all which was not aboue three quarters of a dayes fight for her vse, for in her former dayes worke the third of February, she alone spent 1000. great shot vpon the Enemie, so that now through want of Powder was not able to maintaine such another dayes fight according to that rate. And this last dayes fight she lost but one man, hauing spent vpon the Enemy more then three hundred great shot. To the Lord of hosts the only giuer of victory, the mighty God of Battels, be all honour, glory, praise and dominion for euer, Amen.

A note of the mens Names slaine in these three seuerall fights with the Portugals, out of the English Fleet. Slaine in the Royall Iames.

    • Richard Dauis
    • Nicholas Burton,
    • quarter Masters.
  • Robert Skaife, Gunners Mate.
    • Ioseph Wright
    • Thomas Bland
    • Iohn Burcham
    • Godfrey Howton
    • Carpenters.
    • Richard Dauis, Iunior,
    • Richard Walker
    • Iohn Maisters.
    • William Wilcockes
      • William Clarke
      • William Surdam
      • dismembred in their legs, and dyed.
    • Sailers.
Slaine in the Ionas
  • Robert Modding, Masters Mate.
  • Iohn Beedam, mid-ship-man.
  • William Adams.
  • Robert Stacie.
  • Edward Wilkinson
  • Robert Larke
  • Richard Hergoll
  • Francis Blow.
  • Thomas Page
  • Thomas Wilkinson
  • Thomas Williams.
Slaine in the Starre.
  • Iames Wanderton.
  • William Carter.
  • Reignold Sanderson.
  • Charles Robinson.
Slaine in the Eagle.
  • Iohn Sares.

The Dutch lost neere the like number, a­mongst whom their chiefe Commander Albert Becker was slaine the first dayes fight.

A Relation by Peter Hillion a Frenchman, of the force of the eight Portugal Gallions, which fought with the English and Dutch Fleet, in the Gulph of Persia; as also the spoyle they re­ceiued by them, with their number of men slain, on the 13. and 14. of February,1624. himselfe being then in the Admirall, which afterwards riding with three more of her Fleet at the Ri­uers mouth of Surat, be escaped from her, and ran to the English, which were then riding in the Barre of Surat.

THeir Admirall named S. Francisco Sanuer, wherein was Generall Non Aliud Batellia, had 48. peeces of Brasse Ordnance of whole Ca­non, Demy-Cannon, Cannon Pethrow, whole Culuering, and Demy-Culuering, and 350. men, of which wee slaine 38, whereof three were chiefe Captaines vnder the aforesaid Generall, named Lorenzo Luis, Ieronimo Botelia, and Bras­sa Coze, who all three were kild with one shot, the Ships Fore-mast, Bosprect and maine Mast, were so torne with shot, that they were vnser­uiceable, her Mizzen-mast, Flag and Flag staffe, shot, by the boord, with the head of her maine top-mast, and her Rigging much rent and torne.

Their Vice-Admirall named likewise S. Francisco, wherein was Commander Francisco Burge, had 32, peeces of Ordnance as the for­mer, and 250. men, of which were slaine 31. the aforesaid Commander beeing one of the num­ber, her maine top-mast shot by the boord, her maine. Mast, fore Mast, and Bosprect so torne, that they were vnseruiceable.

Their Reare-Admirall named S. Sebastian, (their biggest ship) wherein was Commander Don Antonio tela, who ws lamed of an arme, had 40. pieces of Brasse Ordnance as the former, and 400. men, whereof 20. were slaine, her maine. Mast, fore-top mast, fore-yard, and Sprit-sayle­top-mast shot by the boord, and her fore mast so vnseruiceable, that she could beare no more saile but her Sprit-saile.

Their fourth ship named S. Saluador, wherein was Commander Don Francisco de Tuar, had 24. peeces of Brasse Ordnance, and 250. men 41. whereof were slaine, the aforesaid Commander being one of the number, his Masts were so rent and torne that they were all vnseruiceable.

There fifth ship named S.Iago, wherein was Commander Simon de Kintalle, had 22. peeces of Brasse Ordnance, 200. men, whereof were slaine 83. her Masts were all standing, but she so leeked betweene wind and water, by shot recei­ued, that they had much to doe to free her, so that she was cast away vpon the Coast of India seuen dayes after.

Their sixth ship named Trinidada, wherein was Commander Pedro Alua Botelia, had 22. pee­ces of Brasse Ordnance, and 250. men 243. wher­of were slaine, his Top-masts were all shot by the boord, and her other so torne, that the could beare no sayle thereon, but was towed by the Great Hulke Reare-Admiral, frō Muscat to Goa.

Their seuenth ship named S. Antonio, wherein was Commander Antonio Burallia, had 22. pee­ces of Brasse Ordnance, and 200. men, whereof 22. were slaine, her Masts were all standing, but hauing a leake by shot receiued betwixt wind and water, the seuenth day after shee was cast away vpon the Coast of India.

The eighth ship named Miserere-Cor [...], wherein was Cōmander Emanuel Rodreeges Ch [...] [...], had 22. peeces of Brasse Ordnance, and 200. men, whereof 3. were slaine, her fore-top-mast, maine-yard, fore-yard, and maine-top sayle-yard shot by the boord, and her fore-mast so torne that it was vnseruiceable.

A Table containing the former numbers.
  Ordnance. Men Men Slaine
The Admirall had 48 350 38
The Vice-Admirall had 32 250 31
The Reare-Admirall had 40 400 20
The fourth Ship had 24 250 41
The fifth ship had 22 200 83
The sixth Ship had 22 250 243
The seuenth ship had 22 200 22
The eighth Ship had 22 200 3
The sumnce 232 2100 481

Thus it pleased God in mercy that the English and Dutch, not being halfe the number of the Enemy, neither in men or Ordnance, that with onely the losse of 58. or 60. men they should kill 481. of the Portugals, and with all so to beat them (notwithstanding the helpe of 16.Frigots) being [...] torne, that they were cast away seuen dayes after, and the rest all vnseruiceable, not daring to stand to the hazard of another conflict.

A briefe description of the Disaster of the goodship called the Lyon, one of our English ships trading to the East India, who was lost in fight with the Portugals, neere Gom­broone in the Gulph of Persia, on the eighth of Nouem­ber, 1625.

THe seuenth of October 1625. about 4. in the morning, the Palsgraue, Dolphin, and Lyon, anchored about three Leagues to the South­wards of Surat Barre, and when it grew light (men being in the top) espyed certaine Readers ryding against Surat Riuer, which some supposed to be English or Hollanders, others affirmed to be affect of Frigots; but in fine, about an houre af­ter they set Sayle and steered after vs, and in short space we made them to be foure Portugall Galli­ons, and fifteene Frigots, the wind being them off shore, they could not come to vs that tide, but anchored about a League from vs, out Captaine perceiuing their intents put forth an Ensigne for Councell, and the Master of each ship presently repaired aboord.

At which [...] our Master M. Richard [...] [...] propounded that [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] Sayle and stand off [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] meanes to [...] the force of the [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] it sell out so that our Ships [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] Portugals, we [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] there [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] doubted that the Portugall had a great force of shipping in Swalley Road.

Secondly, he feared whether our Merchants had friendship with the [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] by reason of the [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] them at the Dolphins [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] England, which was the [...] [...] [...] [...] [...].

Thirdly, he doubted that the Portugals had made peace with the [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] Ordnance a shere Swalley [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] doubted what was become of Captaine, Weddels fleet, for hee affared himselfe if there was any friends at that time in Swalley Road, they would not suffer the Portugall to ride there, for hee sup­posed that the Portugall had beene in fight with them the yeere past, and had either put them to the worst, or else for want of munition to effect another fight, they were forced to repayre to Or­mus Castle for succour, vntill supply came out of England.

A [...]l which being propounded, and the vnrea­dinesse and great charge of all three ships well considered, it was concluded to set Sayle, the which we did, the wind being Northerly, and the tide of floud come, wee flood [...] Sea, and the Portugall Admirall and Vice Admirall sayling better then the rest, fetcht vs vp about 4. in the afternoon, at which time the Lyon being formost of our Fleet, the Enemy Admirall shot one peece or Ordnance at her, for the which shee answered 3. or 4. but could hardly reach further then halfe way: the Portugall finding his Ordnance better than ours, both Admirall and Vice-Admirall plyed vpon the Lyon for the space of halfe an houre, in which time shee receiued many shot both in her Hull and Rigging. Our Master Ri­chard Swanley, seeing their aduantage, caused to bruile maine-saile, and edge within Musket-shot of them both, and there maintained fight with them till Sunne-set, and receiued no hurt at all.

[Page 44]All which time, and an houre after being calme, the other two ships of the Ene­my were at least a League a sterne. The Pals­graue, and Dolphin all this time being right a head, kept on there course, onely plying their sterne Peeces. The Portugals seeing them still stand away, came both aboord of vs, the one in the one quarter, and entred at least 100. of their men, hauing fire-pots, and the other in the other, and diuers sorts of fire-workes vpon our decks, the Frigots (as many as could lye about vs) threw firepots in at the Ports, and stucke fire pikes in her sides; all which (by the great mercy and assi­stance of God) we still put out. Our Admirall and Vice-Admirall in this our miserie were quickly out of our sight, the cause whereof is best knowne to themselues.

This conflict remained from 8. at night, till a­bout 11. in which space our Master Richard Swanley was slaine, and foure more of our men were also slaine, 3. of our Masters Mates, and 20. more were exceedingly burnt, the rest almost wearied, and more discomforted by reason our Fleet had left vs, and in briefe wee were in that case, that the word was giuen to blow vp the ship, had not God in his wisdome stayd it, by putting it in the mind of some of our men, to let fall an Anchor, which being done (the tide run­ning very strong, brought our ship to so strong a bitter, that the fast which the Portugals had vp­on vs brake, whose vnexpected suddaine depar­ture from vs, left 50. or 60. of their men vpon our Poope, who still maintained the fire in such sort, that we were forced to blow them vp, which blast tore all the Sterne of our ship in peeces, from the middle-Decke vpwards.

The Portugals being all repulsed, and the fire put out, we vsed all diligence for the clearing our ship, and getting vp our maine-top-sayle-yard, which then lay vpon our Deck, likewise bringing new sayles of our Yard, the former beeing all burnt and torne all which being as well done, as haste would giue leaue, we expected their com­ming againe the next tide, but they hoping wee would either haue burnt or sunke, onely left fiue Frigots without shot of vs, and themselues with the other two ships that were formerly a sterne flood after the Palsgraue and Dolphin, and in short space fetcht them vp, and fought with them all that night, they standing still off to Sea, were but off our sight the next morning.

The 8. day in the morning, (all the ships bee­ing out of our fight) it was agreed vpon by the Officers of our ship, that Henry Crosbey our Ma­sters chiefe Mate should succeed as our chiefe Commander, vntill such time as it pleased God we should meet with our Commander.

This being done, wee being not able to weigh [...] our Anchor, by reason our men were most of them hurt, cut Cable in the haw [...]e, and let as much Sayle as we durst beare, our sore mast ha­uing receiued 3. shot, in such wise, as it had but 4. inches hold and stood off to Sea, and beeing faire weather, praised bee God, in short time ou [...] fore-mast was made seruiceable.

The Frigots aforesaid that were left by vs, stood foure of them after the Fleet, and the other in fo [...] the shore, all that day we heard them in fight, bu [...] saw them not, likewise the next night wee could see the light of their Ordnance at our top-mast head; but they being to wind-ward of vs, wee could not get to them, nor indeed were not in case if we could, for our ship was so open, and all our chiefe men kild and hurt.

The ninth in the morning, wee could neither see them nor heare them, then it was thought fit­ting by our Master, that according to the Con­sultation held aboord the Palsgraue, the seuenth day wee should stand for Ormus, the which (by the assistance of God) wee did, hauing faire wea­ther all the way; in which time of our Sayling, our Carpenters had got vp all the sterne of our ship againe as well as his store would giue him leaue, our men also were recouered of their hurts.

The fourth of Nouember we arriued at Gom­broone, where we had intelligence by our Mer­chants there resident, that Rufrero was riding vn­der Ormus Iland, with 18. or 20. Frigots, the which when our Master vnderstood, the (Mer­chants being then aboord) it was concluded by consultation, that to preuent any ensuing dan­ger that might happen, and also for the cleering of our ship, whereby to mount our lower Tier, all the Cloth and Currall, and foure Chests of money should besent a shore, with as much speed [Page 45] as possible, the other our Master refused to send one of the ship, alledging, that if it should please God they were forced to leaue the Port by any disaster, there was no stocke to buy any refreshing for our men which then did want it, the rest of our Carriages, and goo is lying low in Hold, could not then be come by, [...]: much time which then we wanted. It was also appointed that we should with all speed take in water, and stand for Ormus, the which was a [...]yed to doe, and partly effected, for vpon the fifth day the Merchants and our Purser rode with all speed to the Sultan, (who was then out of Towne) to [...] ­treat for Boats to Land the Goods, and to wa­ter out ships, the which he granted, and also gaue [...]a Boat to make vs a Long boat by reason wee had lost both our Skiffe and Long boat the last sight.

The sixth there came Boot-haylers aboord, & tooke all the goods aforesaid and carried them a shore, & also tooke in Caske to fill with water.

The 7. of Nouember there came 12. Tunne of water aboord, which was presently taken in, and more Caske sent a shore; also in this short time our Lower Orlope was also made Priddic, and our two chase Peeces were mounted, and wee were in good hope the next day to take in water enough to serue vntill the fleet came to stand o­uer for Ormus; but God hauing otherwise ap­pointed, it fell out contrary.

The eighth day, about 7. in the morning, Ru­srero with his Frigots came rowing towards tne Ship, and being then calme that the Ship could not worke, hee came in such sort that she could haue none but her Chase Peece to beare vpon them, which lay so well to passe, that they sunke two of their Figots before they could boord her, and two more after they were by her sides. But after they were aboord, they plyed their small shot in such wise, that they were not able able to open a Port in the ship, but were forced to shoote away Ports, and all.

They also maintained such aboundance of fire works round about her that in a moment all her Masts and Sayles [...]re on fire, her vpper Decke was also on fire, the which for all their heauing much water vpon it, in lesse then halfe an houre fell downe vpon their heads, and put them from their [...] death on each side, some [...] put themselues to the mercy [...] the rest gaue [...] to the [...] vp the ship. Those men which [...] [...] b [...]ord, were all receiued into the [...] [...] carried vnto Ormus Iland, and the next in [...] Rusrero gaue or [...] to cut off all their heads but one, namely Thomas Winterborne, whom he sent with a letter to the Merchants at Gombroone, the rest being 26. persons, were [...]ely [...] ­headed.

Those that were blowne vp in the Ship, droue a shore and were burled at Gombroone be [...] in number 42. there were also nine men a [...] a­bout the Companies [...] [...], and one that Rusrero sent with a Letter makes 10. whom God grant neuer worse fortune.

Thus was this good ship and men vnfortunat­ly and lamentably lost, yet as much courage and manly resolution as possibly could bee was per­formed by the English, not can it bee imagined how more industry or [...]uer valour could haue beene shewed; on the other side, the cruell and bloud-thirsty enemy gained nothing but knocks losse of liues and limbes, hauing his Frigots suncke and torne in peeces, his maine purchase being dishonour and infamy, for after all our men had sought so long, and so manfully, being besieged round with death, as the Sea to swallow them, the fire to consume them, or the Portugals swords to cut their throats, not being possible to escape one of these wayes of emenent canger, that then in that extremity 27. men escaping into the Sea, were all aliue taken vp by the Enemy, whom had he then kild in he [...]e of bloud, when warre, rage death and sury were vp, it had beene then but the effect and fortune o [...] warre; but to giue them harbour all night, and the next day in cold bloud to cause them to be beheaded, it was one of the ignoblest, inhumaine, and barburous parts of murther that could be committed. But Rusrero being a Portugall or Spantard, could doe no other (or the honour of his Countrey) but shew his bloudy nature, especially to our Nati­on: a Barbarian, a Turke or a Iew should haue found more kind [...] [...], for indeed they all are of one disposition. And I am sure, no Record or [Page 46] Chronicle can shew, no Histo [...]y can report, no tradition can declare, nor any memory can re­ [...], that euer an Englishmen, or almost other Nation (except the Spaniard) did murther so many defirmed naked men, hauing had them all a whole night in their custody.

A farewell and hearty well-wishing to the noble attempts of our English Sea and Land forcas, with their Allies and Consederates.

YOu sons of Mars that furrow Neptunes brow,
And o're the dang'rous Deep (vndanted) plow;
You who esteeme your Countries honor more,
Than life or pelse, (which Peasants doe adore)
Your noble Ancestours, whose memories
Are borne by Fame as farre as T [...] Rise,
And vniuersally diuulg'd from thence
The Circle of the worlds circumference,
Let their example be a spurre to you,
That you their worthy vertues may pursue:
They were but men, and you are each so much,
They were victorious, may you each be such;
They had good courage guided with good skill,
Which skill and Courage, Fortune, Grace and Will,
I doe implore th' Almighty to bestow,
On you in generall, All, both high and low,
Time doth record our Britaines matchlesse force
By Sea and Land, with valiant foot or horse,
Hath made France tremble and proud to quake
And great Ierusalems foundation shake:
And as true valour did inspire their brests,
So Victory and Conquest crown'd their Crests.
O may your good intendments fall out [...]ight,
The God of Battels still your Battels sight;
That as your Fathers were so you maybe,
Rare Patternes vnto your posteritre:
That all our Foes with terrour now may know
They haue beene beaten, and they must be so,
True Honour, Fame, and Victory attend you:
And high [...] in your cause defend you:
That Immortality your fames may Crowne,
And GOD may haue the Glorie and Renowne.
IOHN TAYLOR
FINIS.

TAYLORS PASTORALL, BEING BOTH HISTORICALL AND SATYRICALL. OR, The noble Antiquitie of Shepheards, with the profitable vse of Sheepe: With a small touch of a scabbed Sheepe, and a C [...]ueat against that Infection.

DEDICATED TO THE RIGHT WORSHIP FVLL, I V­dicious, and truly Generous, my well approued good friend, Mr. THOMAS DOVE, Archdeacon of Northampton, the accom­plishment of his worthy desires Temporall and Eternall.

RIGHT WOR: SIR,

BOokes without Patrons, are like Babes without Parents, (for ex­cept the one be pleasing and plausible to humour, the various dispositions of men, and the other left with warme portions or legacies in the tuition of faithfull Executors or Guardians) both Bookes and Babes are happie if they die in their birth, that the first minute of their miserie may bee the first moment of their felicities: these Considerations haue humbly emboldened me to lay this poore Infant of my laborious Braine, at the doore or gate of your patronage and protection, not doubting but your innated charity, good disposition, and vnfaigned af­fectation of all laudable endeauours, will giue it both free and hospitable en­tertainment. The function I treate of being venerable and honourable, as of Shepheards, the profit commendable, lawfull, necessarie, ample, and vniversall, as of Sheepe. The writing or methood of it historicall, mysticall, tropicall; ty­picall, literall, and Satyricall; which hath encouraged mee to dedicate my poore Shepheardly inuention, and their harmelesse flockes to your Worships good acceptance, whose reuerend function is truely Pastorall; acknowledging that my many imperfections in writing, and vnworthines in handling so wor­thy a subiect, hath made me doubtfull to vse the protection of your Name? yet on the other side, considering your good inclination, and mine owne humble innocencie, both my selfe and my best indeauours I here consecrate to be em­ployed euer in your Worships seruice.

Hee whose meaning, writing, and speaking, are one: IOHN TAYLOR.

All those that will not reade this plaine Epistle, Lay downe the Booke, on Gods name, and goe whistle.

HOnest mens Sonnes (if I giue you a wrong name, I aske your Fathers pardon) al­though euery one that eates Mutton, may truely bee suspected for sheepe-biter, yet I hope my Sheepe shall finde no such dogged dealing amongst you. There are in­deed three sorts of Creatures, two of which are so much repugnant to a Sheepe, that I thinke there will neuer be an union betwixt them, which are a wolfe and a Dog; the third is a Goate, which although they may graze or pasture one with another, as Christians and Infidels are wouen together in the linsey woolsey web of the World, yet I did neuer know any kind of familiaritie betweene them. And be thou in nature, a Wolfe, a Dog, or a Goate, that readst this, I passe not, but I rather pittie thy accursed inclination, then stand in any feare of thy Butting or Byting: she honest minded Reader shall finde my subiect or Theame both lan­dable and Honourable: and those who hold the name of Shepheard in contempt or derision, may herre find truly proued, that the whole World doth not now containe, nor euer will retaine any men, who for Goodnesse, Honour, true Worth, Worthinesse and respect, that can or dare make comparison with the Shepheards of former Agos. And though VIRGIL, OVID, MANTVAN, and many of our learned English and Scottish Poets, haue made their inuentions trauell vp the top of the forked Mountaine of Parnassus; yet I would haue the Reader know, that if they, each of them had Argos eyes, of suruay and obserue, and as many hands as Briareus, to write, yet for all their paines, diligent search and collect­ions, my weake cpabitie can finde matter enough to make an honest Pamphlet out of what they haue ouer­seene, neglected, or made slight account of. Foure things, I haue, doe, and euer will obserue in my Wri­tings; which are, not to write prophane, obsceane, palpable, and edious Lyes, or scandalous Libels. In keeping which Decorum, I hope I shall keep my selfe within the limits or bounds of good men Respect. And this Aduertisement more I giue the Reader, that there are many things Imprinted vnder the name of two Letters, I. T. for some of which I haue beene taxed to bee the Author: I assure the world that I had neuer any thing imprinted of my writing, that I was either afraid or ashamed to set my name as large to it; and therefore if you see any Authors name I. T. I vtterly disclaime it: for I am as I haue bin, both I, and T. which with addition of Letters, is yours to bee commanded in any laudableen­deauours,

IOHN TAYLOR

TAYLORS PASTORALL, BEING BOTH HISTORICALL AND SATYRICALL OR, The noble Antiquitie of Shepheards; with the profitable vse of Sheepe.

APOLLO (Father of the Sisters nine,
I c [...]aue thy ayde t'inspire this Muse or mine,
Thou that thy golden Glory didst lay by
(As Ouid doth relate most wittily)
And in a Shepheards shape, didst deigne to keeps
Thy Loues beloued Sire, Admerus sheepe.
And rurall Pan, thy helpe I doe intreat,
That (to the life) the praise I may repeat
Of the contended life, and mightie stockes
Of happie Shepheards, and their harmlesse sockes.
[...] better thoughts my Errors doe controule
[...] an offence, most negligent and foule,
[...]us inuoking, like a Heathen man,
[...] helplesse, from Apollo, or from Pan
When as the subiect, which I haue in hand,
[...]almost infinite, as Scarres, or sand,
[...] With Antiquitie, vpon Record
[...] the Eternall, neuer-failing Word.
[...]ere 'tis ingrauen true and manifest,
[...]That Shery and Shepheares, were both best and blest.
[...] Therefore inuocate the gracious aide
Of Thee, whose mightie Word hath all things made,
Israels great Shepheard numbly c [...]aue
That his assur'd assistance I may haue:
That my vnlearned Muse no verse compile,
When may bee impious, prophane or vile,
[...]ad though through Ignorance, or negligence,
[...] poore iuucation fall into offence,
[...]implore that boundlesse Grace of his,
Nor stricaly to regard what is amisle,
[...]at but vnto me belongeth all the blame,
And all the Glory bee vnto his Name.
Yet as this Bookers verse, so men must know,
[...]must some Fictions and Aliusions show,
Some shreds, sow [...]mnants reliques, or some scraps,
The Muses may inspire me with perhaps.
Which taken laterally, as line may sceme,
And so mil-vnderstanding may misdeeme.
Of Sheepe therefore, before to worke I fall,
Isle shew the Shepheards first originall:
Those that the best Records will reade and marke,
Shall finde iust Abel was a Patriarke,
Our father Adams second sonne, a Prince,
(As great as any man, begotten fince)
Yet in his function hee a Shepheard was:
And so his mottall Pilgrimage did passe.
And in the sacred Text it is compild,
That hee that's father of the Faithfull stil'd,
Did as a Shepheard line vponth increase
Of Sheepe, vntill his dayes on earth did ceasel
And in those times it was apparent t [...]en
Abel
Abel a Princes Patriarke, figure of the true Church a type of [...]tt and a shepheard, Abraham a Prince a Patriarke, [...] [...]uled with the Glorious tytle of Father of the Faithfull, a Shep: heard.
and Abram both were Noble men:
The one obtain'd the tytle righteously
For his vnfeigned seruing the most High,
Hee first did offer Sheepe which (on Record)
Was Sacrifice accepted of the Lord.
Hee was (before the Infant world was ripe)
The Churches figure, and his Saurours type,
A murdered Martyr, who for seruing God,
Did first of all feele persecutions rod.
And Abraham was in account so great,
Abramclech his friendship did intreat,
[Page 50]Faiths patterne, and Obedience sample, hee
Like Starres, or sand, was in posteritis:
In him
Isack.
the Nations of the Earth were blest,
And now his bosome figures heau'nly REST,
His Sheepe almost past numbring multiply'd,
And when (as he thought) I saue should haue dy'd,
Then by th'Almighties Mercies, Loue, and Grace
A Sheepe from out a Bush supply'd the place.
Lot was a Shepheard,(Abrams brothers sonne)
And such great fauour from his God he wonne,
That Sodom could not be consum'd with fire,
Till hee and his did out of it retire,
They felt no vengeance for their foule offence,
Till righteous Lot was quite departed thence.
And Iacob, as the holy Ghost doth tell,
Who afterwards was called Israel,
Who wrastled with his God, and (to his fame)
Obtain'd a Name and Blessing for the same,
Hee (vnder Laban) was a Shepheard long,
And suffred from him much ingratefull wrong,
For Bachel and for Leah, hee did beare
The yoke of seruitude full twentie yeare,
Hee was a Patriarke, a Prince of might.
Whose wealth in Sheepe, was almost infinite,
His twice sixe sonnes (as holy writ describes,
Who were the famous Fathers, of twelue tribes)
Were for the most part Shepheards, and such men
Whose like the world shall ne're containe agen.
Young Ioseph, 'mongst the rest, especially,
A constant mirrour of true Chastitie:
Who was in his affliction, of behauiour
A morrall Tipe of his immortall sauiour:
And Truth his Mother Rachet doth expresse
To be her father Labans, Shepheardesse,
Meeke Moses, whom the Lord of hosts did call
To leade his people out of AEgypts thrall,
Whose power was such, as no mans was before,
Nor since his time hath any mans beene more,
Yet in the Sacred text it plaine appeares,
That he was letbroes Shepheard fortie yeares.
Heroycke Dauid, Ishaies youngest sonne,
Whose acts immortall memorie hath wonne:
Whose valiant vigour did in pieces teare
A furious Lyon and a rauenous Beare:
Who (arm'd with Faith and fortitude alone)
Slew great Gohah, with a sling and stone,
Whose victories the people sung most plaine,
Saul hath a thousand, Hee ten thousand slaine,
Hee from the Sheepfold came to be a king,
Whose same for euer through the world shall ring;
Hee was another Tipe of that blest HEE
That was and is, and euermore shall bee.
His vertuous Acts are writ for imitation,
His holy Hymnes and Psalmen for consolation,
For Reprehension and for Contemplation,
And finally to shew vs our saluation.
The Prophet Amos, vnto whom the Lord
Kear [...]l'd the sacred secrets of his Word:
God rais'd him from the Sheepfold to foretell
What Plagues should fall on sinfull Israell,
True
Job.
Patience patterne Prince of his affections.
Most mightie tamer of his imperfections,
Whose guard was God, whose guide the holy Ghost,
Blest in his wealth of which Sheepe was the most,
Iust Iobs loft riches doubled was agen,
Who liu'd belou'd of God, admir'd of men.

Seth and Noab, were Shepheards and feeders of Cattle,

The first of happie tydiageon the earth,
Of our all onely Sauiours blessed birth,
The glorious Angels to the Shepheards told,
As Luke th'Euangelist doth well vnfold.
And should my verse a little but decline Lok. [...]. [...]
To humane stories, and leaue diuine:
There are some mightie Princes I can name,
Whose breeding (at the first) from Shepheards came
Romes founder ( Romulus) was bred and ted,
Mongst Shepheards where his youthfull dayes he led
The Persian Monarch ( Cyr [...])hee did passe
His youth with
Valeriux, Maximus, and Aureliaxus, were raised from been Heardsmen to the imperiall dignitie,
Shepheards, and a Shepheard was,
The Terrour of the world, that famous man
Who conquer'd Kings, and kingdomes ouer-ran
His stile was, (as some stories doe repeat)
The Scythsan Shepheard Tamberlaine the Great.
Tis sueh a Tytle of preheminence,
Of reuerence, and such high magnificence,
That Dauid, (who so well his words did frame) [...]
Did call our great Creator by the name.
Our blest Redeamer (Goas eternall Sonne)
Whose onely merits our Saluation wonne.
He did the harmlesse name of Shepheard take [...]
For our protection, and his Mercres sake.
Those that will reade the sacred Text, and looke
With diligence, throughout that heauenly Booke,
Shall finde the Ministers haue Epithires,
And named Angels, Stewards, Watchmen Lights,
Salt, Builders, Husbandmen, and Starres that shine,
(Inflamed with the Light which is Diuine)
And with these names, within that books compil'd
They with the Stile of Shepheards are instil'd.
Thus God the Sire, and sonne, the Scriptures call
Both Shepheards, my stieall and literall,
And by similitudes comparing to,
All kings and Churchmen beare that tytle do.

A.E.I.O.V. two Anagrams of the fiue Vowels, the one serues for the glorious name GOD, and the other in the Spanish tongue is a Sheepe, which name the Prophet Esay doth figuratiuely or mystically call our Creator IEOVA, or IEHOVAH, OVEIA, is a sheepe.

Wherein may bee perceiued, that there is no Word, Name or Action, in or vnder Heauen, but hath one or more of the fiue Vowels, and that no Word or Name hath them all Without other Letters, but IEOVA, and OVEIA, Which doth admonish vs in the feare and reuerence of the Almightie, because in all our thoughts, Words and actions, some part of his Won­derfull Name is infinitely included. And withall that OVEIA or a sheepe is a most significant Em­blem or signe of our God and Sauiours innocencie and patient sufferings.

WIse and Insorutable, Omniscient,
Eternall, Gracious, and Omnipotent,
In Loue, in Iustice, Mercy & in Might
In Honour, Power and Glory infinite
In workes, in words, in euery Attribute
Almightie All. commanding, Absolute;
For who so notes the Letters of the name
IE MOVAH, shall perceiue within the same,
The Vowels of all Tongues included be:
[...]th no name that e're was nam'd but HE,
[...] I haue heard some Schollers make Relation,
[...] is but a breathing Aspiration;
A letter that may be left out and spar'd,
Whereby is cleerely to our sight declar'd,
That Great IEHOVA may be written true
With onely Vowels, A, E, I, O, V:
And that there is no word or name but this,
That hath them all alone, but onely His,
So that the Heauens with all the mighty Host
Of Creatures there, Earth, sea or any Coast,
Or Climate, any Fish, or Fowle, or Beast,
Or any of His workes, the most and least,
Or thoughts, or words, or writing with the Pen,
Or deedes that are accomplished by men,
But haue some of these Letters in them all,
And God alone hath all in Generall.
By which we see, according to his will,
He is in all things, and doth all things fill,
And all things said or done, he hath ordain'd,
Some part of his great Name's there in contain'd
All future, present, and all past things seeing,
In whom we liue, and moue, and haue our being.
A Almightie, All in All and euery where,
E Eternall, in whom change cannot appeare,
I Immortall, who made all things mortall else,
O Omnipotent, whose Power all Power all Power excels,
V Vnited, Three in one, and one in Three,
IEOVA: Vnto whom all Glory bee.
Besides the learned poets of all times,
Haue chanted out the praise, in pleasant times,
The harmelesse liues of rurall shepheards Swaines,
And beautious shepheardesses on the plaines,
In
All the famous Poetes and Poetesses of all tongues and nations, haue written vpon this worthy subiect.
Odes, in Rouudelaies and Madrigals,
In Sonnets, and in well. pen'd Pastorals:
They haue recorded, most delightfully,
Their loues, their fortunes, and felicitie,
And sure, if in this low terrestriall Round
Plaine honest happinesse is to be found:
It with the Shepheards is remaining still,
Because they haue least power to doe ill:
And whilst they on their feeding flockes attend,
They haue the least occasions to offend.
Ambition, Pompe, and Hell begotten Pride,
And damned Adulation, they deride:
The complementall flatt'rie of kings Courts,
Is neuer intermix'd amidst their sports;
They seldome enuie at each others state,
Their loue and feare is Gods, the deuil's their hate.
In weightie businesse they nor marre or make,
And cursed bribes they neither giue or take.
They are not guiltie (as some great men are)
Tvndoe their Mercer and Embroiderer,
Their Taylor, Butcher Bewer, Baker, Powlter,
(For which there's some haue well deseru'd a halter)
Their Shoomaker and Silkman I forgot,
Though breaking, or else begg'rie be their lot,
Nor is't a Shepheards trade, by night or day
To sweare themselues in debt, and neuer pay
Hee's no state-plotting Macbiushan,
Or Proiect-monger Monopolitan:
Hee hath no trickes or wiles to circumuent,
Nor feares he when there comes a Parliament.
He neuer weares his cap, nor bends his knee
To feed Contention with a Lawyers fee:
He wants the art to Cog, Cheat, Sweare and Lie,
Nor feares the Gallowes, or the Pillorie.
Nor cares he if great men be fooles or wise,
If honour fall, and base dishonour rise,
Let fortunes mounted minions sinke or swim,
Hee neuer breakes his braines, all's one to him,
He's free from fearefull curses of the poore,
And liues and dies content, with lesse, or more.
Great temporance in Shepheards.
[Page 52]He doth not waste the time as many vse,
His good Creators creatures to abuse,
In drinking sicks vngodly healths to some,
They veryest Cankerwormes of Christendome;
My Lord Ambition and my Lady Pride,
Shall with his quasting not be magnifide:
Nor for their sakes will he carowse and feast,
Vntill (from man) he be turn'd worse then beast,
Whereby he scapes vaine oathes, and blasphemy,
And surfets, (fruits of drunken gluttony.)
He scapes, occasion vnto lusts pretence,
And so escapes the Poxe by consequence,
Thus doth he scape the Parator and Proctor,
Th'Apothecary, Surgeon, and Doctor,
Whereby he this prerogatiue may haue,
To hold the laying in into his graue,
Whilst many, that his betters farre haue bin,
Will very hardly hold the laying in.

These are great priuiledges though few men seeke or care for them

Thus Shepheards liūe; and thus they end their liues,
Adorn'd and grac'd with these prerogatiues:
And when he dyes he leaues no wrangling heyres
To law till all be spēnt, and nothing theirs,
Hooke, Tar-box, Bottle, Bag, Pipe, Dog, and all,
Shall breed no iarres in Westminsters great Hall:
Peace and tranquility was all his life,
And (dead) his goods shall breed no cause of strife.
Thus Shepheards haue no places, meanes, or times,
To fall into these hell-deseruing crimes,
Which Courtiers, Lawyers, Tradesmen, men of arms.
Commit, vnto their soules and Bodies harmes.
And from the Shepheards now ile turne my stile
To sundry sorts of sheepe another while,
The Lambs that in the Iewes passeouer dy'd,
Were figures of the Lambe [...] that's crucifi'd ( Esa.53.7.
And Esay doth compare our heauenly food 1. Ioh.1.29
T' [...] Sheepe, which dumb before the shearer stood:
Whose death, and merits, did this title win,
The Lambe of God, which freed the world from sin
LAMBE Anagram's
BLAME.
LAMBE Anagram's
BALME.
The Anagram's of Lambe is Blame and Balme.
And Christ, the Lambe, Vpon him tooke our Blame.
His precious Blood (Gods heauy wrath did calme)
'I'was th' onely Blame for Sinne to cure the same
All power, and praise, and glory be therefore,
Ascribed to the Lambe for euermore.
And in the threescore nineteenth Psalme we read,
That like a Sheepe our God doth Ieseph lead,
Againe, of vs he such account doth keepe,
That of his Paffure we are called Sheepe.
And euery day we doe confesse (almost)
That we haue err'd and stray'd like Sheepe that's lest.
Our Saueour (that hath bought our Soules so deare)
Hath said, his Sheepe his voice will onely heare:
And Thrice did Christ vnto Saint Peter call,
(In which he spake to his Disciples all) Iab.21.15.16.
If you doe loue me, feed my Sheepe (quoth he)
And feed my Lambs well, if you doe loue me.
Moreouer, in the final Iudgement day,
There is the right hand, and the left hand way,
Whereas the sheepe he to himselfe doth gather,
With saying, Come, Ye blessed of my Father, &c,
And to the Goats, in his consuming ire,
He bids, Depars into eternall fire.
Thus our Redeemer, and his whole elect,
The name of Sheepe held euer in respect,
And the comparison holds reference
To profit, and to harmelesse innocence.
For of all beasts that euer were, or are,
None can (for goodnesse) with a Sheepe compare:
Indeed, for bone and burthen I must grant,
He's much inferiour to the Elephant,
The Dromedarie, Camell, Horse, and Asse,
For loade and carriage doth a Sheepe surpasse:
Strong Taurus, Eunuch sonne, the labouring Oxe,
The stately Stagge, the bobtaild craftie Foxe,
These, and all rauenous beasts of prey, must yeeld
Vnto the Sheepe, the honour of the field.

An Oxe is the Eunuch sonne of a Bull.

I could recount the names of many more,
The Lyon, Vnicorne, the Beare and Bore;
The Wolfe, the Tyger, the Rhinoscerot,
The Leopard, and a number more I woe.
But all these greedie Beasts, great Ouids pen
Doth say are metamorphos'd into men,
For Beast to Beast afford more conscience can,
And much lesse cruelty, than man to man.
Ile therefore let such Beasts be as they be,
For feare they Kicke, and snap and snarle at me [...]
Vnto the Sheepe againe my Muse doth flye,
For honest safetie, and commoditie,
He with his flesh and fleece, doth feed and clad,
All Languages and Nations, good and bad:
What can it more, but dye, that we may liue,
And euery yeare to vs a liuery giue?
'Tis such a bountie, and the charge so deepe,
That nothing can afford the like, but Sheepe.
For should the world want Sheepe but 5. whole yere.
Ten thousand millions would want cloathes to
And wer't not for the flesh of this kind beast, (weare:
The world might fast, when it doth often feast,
There's nothing doth vnto a Sheepe pertaine,
But'tis for mans commoditie and gaine;
For men to men so much vntrusty are,
Tolye, to couzen, to forsweare and sweare;
That oathes, and passing words, and ioyning heads.
Is like assurance written in the sands,
To make men keepe their words, and mend all this,
The silly Sheepe skin turn'd to parchment is
[Page 53]There's many a wealthy man, whose.whole tstate,
Lyes more in Parchment, then in coyne or Plate.
Indentures, Leafes, Euidenoes, Wills,
Bonds, Contracts, Records. Obligations Bils,
With these (although the sherpeskin is bat weake)
It binds men strongly that they dare not breake.
B [...] if man eates Spiders no.v and then,
The oyle of Parchment cures him oftagen.
And what rare stuffes which in the world are fram'd
Can be value like to Parchment nam'd:
The richest cloth of gold that can befound,
A yard of it was nere worth fiftie pound:
And I haue seene two foot of Sheepeskin drest,
Which hath bin worth ten thousand pounds at least.
A peece of parchment well with Inke Iac'd ouer,
Helps many a gallant to a Sattin couer;
Into the Mercer it some Faith doth strike,
It giues the Silkeman Hope of no dislike:
The Taylor it with Charitie assailes,
It thrusts him last betwixt his Bill and Vailes,
And by these meanes, a piece of parchment can
Patch vp, and make a Gull a Gentleman,
The Nature of it very strange I finde,
'Tis much like Physicke, it can loose and binde:
'Tis one mans freedome, and anothers noose,
And like the Pope it doth both binde and loose.

If the Taylors Bill be out of measure to the Gentleman, then be can make a fit measure for him with his owne bond.

And as the Ram and Ewe doe fructifie,
And euery yeare a Lambe doth multiply:
So doth a sheepe-skin Bond make money breed,
And procreate, as seed doth spring from seed.
[...] hundred pounds the Ewe, which euery yeare
Doth breed a ten pound Lambe, all (charges cleare).

A Bond is the Ewe, the borrower and lender are both Rams, and the Interest is the Lambe.

Thus is a sheepe-skin prou'd the onely Tie,
And stay, whereon a world of men relye,
Which holds a crew of Earth wormes kin more awe,
Then both the Tables of the sacred Law.
Past number, I could many functions name
Who (as 'tis parchment) liue vpon the fame:
But 'tis sufficient this small homely touch,
Should all be writ, my Booke would swell too much.
Now for the Ram, the Ewe, the Lambe, and Weather,
Ile touch their skins as they are turn'd to Leather,
And made in Purses, Pouches, Laces Strings,
Gloues, Points, Book. Couers, & ten thousand things.
And many Tradesmen line and thriue thereby,
Which if I would, I more could amplifie.
Their Guts serue Instruments which sweetly found,
Their Dung is best to make most fruitfull ground:
Their Hoofes burnt will most venom'd Serpents kill,
Their grated Hornes are good 'gainst poyson still:
Their Milke makes Cheese, mans hunger to preuent.
As I haue seen in suffex and in Keut.
Their Trotters, for the healthy or the sicke,
(Drest as they should be)are good meat to picke.
The Cookes and Butchers with the Ioints doe gaine
And poore folkes eate the Gather, Head, and braine;
And though all wise mens iudgement will allow
A Sheepe to be much lesser then a Cow,
Yet in a Leg of Mutton I can see,
More meat then in a leg of Beefe can be.
A liue Sheepe hath one Necke, yet I perceiue,
Sheepe being dead, two neckes of Mutton haue.
Foure legs each liuing Sheepe hath, but once slaine,
(Although he loose none, yet)he hath but twaine.
Now for the honour of the valiant Ram,
If I were learn'd more treble then I am,
Yet could I not sufficiently expresse
His wondrous worth, and exc'llent worthinesse.
For by Altronomers 'tis verifide Aries.
How that the Ram in heauen is stellifide,
And (of the twelue is plac'd head figne of all,
Where Sol keepes first his Equinoctiall.
For, hauing at the Bull drunke Aprils showres
And with y e Twins, May deck'd [...] earth with flowers
And scorch'd the Crab in Iune with burning beams,
Made Iulies Lyon chafe with fierie gleames;
In August solace to the Virgin giuen
With Battance in September made Time euen,
Octobers Scorpion with declining course,
And passing by December Archers force,
Then hauing past Novembers frozen Goats,
He next to Ianus Waterie Signe doth floate:
He to the Lenten Signe in February,
And so bright Phoebus) ends his yeres vagarie.
Then, to the Ram, in March, in his careere,
He mounts, on which this Sonnet's written heere.

Sonnet.

NOw cheerefull Sol in his illustrious Carre,
To glad the Earth, his Iourney gins to take;
And now his glorious beames he doth vnbarre,
What absence marr'd, his presence now doth make:
Now he Earths weeping visage gins to dry
With Eols breath, and his bright heauenly heat, (fly:
March dust (like clouds) through ayre doth march &
Dead-seeming Trees and Plants new life doth get.
Thus when the Worlds eye [...]azler takes his Inne,
At the coelestiall Ram, then Winter's done:
And then Dame Nature doth her liueriespinne
Of flowers and fruits, which all the Earth puts on.
Thus when Apollo doth to Aries come,
The Earth is freed from Winters Martyrdome.
[Page 54]Thus haue I prou'd, the' Ram a luckie signe,
Wherein Heau'n, Earth, and Sun and Ayre combine,
To haue their vniuersall comforts hurld
Vpon the Face of the decaying world.
With twelue signes each mans body's gouerned,
And Aties or the Ram, doth rule the head,
Then are their iudgements foolish, fond, and base,
That take the name of Ramhead in disgrace;
'Tis honour for the head to haue the name,
Deriued from tie Ram that rules the same:
And that the Ram doth rule the head, I know,
For euery Almanacke the same doth show.

To be cald Ramhead is a title of honour, and a name proper to all men.

He that sels wood, is call'd a Woodmonger;
He that sels fish call'd a Fishmonger;
He that doth brew, is call'd a Brewer; and
He's call'd a Landlord, that takes rent for Land;
He that bakes Bread, scornes not the name of Baker;
He that makes Cuckolds, is a Cuckold-maker.
So as the Ram doth rule the head, I see,
By Constellation all men Ramheads be.
And as the twelue Celestiall signes beare sway,
And with their motions passe mans life away:
The Ram, the head, the Bull, the neake and throte,
Twins, shoulders, Crab, doth rule the brest, I note,
But 'tis the Lyons portion and his part,
To be the valiant ruler of the heart.

A comfort for Cuckolds, that though a man hath a Rams head, yet he hath a Lyons heart.

From whence such men may gather this reliefe,
That though a Ramhead may be cause of griefe,
Yet Nature hath this remedie found out,
They should haue Lyons hearts to beare it stout,
And to desend and keepe the head from harme,
The Anagram of Ram, I finde is: Arm.
Thus is a Ramhead arm'd against all feare,
He needs no helmet, or no head-piece weare.
To speake more, in the plurall number, Rams,
It yeilds signifique warre like Anagrams,
For Rams is Mars, Mars is the God of Warre,
And Rams is Arms, Arms warres munitions are;
And from the fierce encounters which they make.
Our Tilts and Tournyes did beginnings take,
For as the Rams retire and meet with rage,
So men doe in their warre-like equipage.

Strange mysteries in the words Ram or Rams: the Rams the first runners at Tilt, and first teachers of warlike battell. Iosephus Beller Lib. 3. cop.9. Rams horacs the first Trumpets.

And long e're powder, (from Hels damned den,
Was monstrously produc'd to murther men,
The Ram, an Engine call'd a Ram, did teach,
To batter downe a wall, or make a breach.
And now some places of defence gainst shot,
Haue (from the Ram) the name of Rampiers got.
First warlike trumpets that Ie're heard nam'd,
At Ierscho, were all of Rams hornes fram'd:
For at the Rams horne Trumpets fearefull blast,
Their curled Walls were suddenly downe cast.
Thus is the Ram with many vertues stor'd,
And was in AEgygt for a God ador'd:
And like a Captaine he the flocke doth lead,
As fits their Generall their Prince or head:
Thus haue I prou'd a Sheepe, a beast of price,
Cleane, and reputed fit for Sacrifice:
And sleeping, waking, earely, or else late,
It still doth chew the cud and ruminate.
Of all Beasts in the worlds circumference,
For meekenesse, profit, and for innocence,
I haue approu'd a Sheepe most excellent,
That with least cost doth giue man most content.
There's such instinct of Nature in the Lambe,
By bleating, It mongst thousands knowes the dam:
For which the name of Aguoscendo knowing,
Is giuen to a Lambe, its knowledge showing.

Agnus, Great knowledge in the Lambe.

But to consider more seriously, the wonderfull blessing that the whole world hath had and hath by Sheepe at this present, I thinke it not amisse to vse the words of an ingenuous and well affected Poet of our time, Master T. M. where he tru­ly saith,

No Ram no Lambe, no Lambe no Sheepe, no Sheepe no Wooll, no Wooll no Woolman, no Woolman no Spinner, no Spinner no Wea­uer, no Weauer no Cloth, no Cloth no Clothi­er, no Clothier no Clothworker, Fuller, Tucker, Shearman, Draper, or scarcely a rich Dyer.

And what infinite numbers of people rich and poore haue liued, and doe liue, hauing their whole dependance from the poore sheepes back, all men of iudgement, will acknowledge; be­sides, I thinke it not amisse to set downe the names of many worthy men, who haue bene free of London, of such Trades and mysteries where­of the Sheepe is the originall vnder God. And first, to begin with the Right Worshipfull Com­pany of Drapers, with the names of such as haue borne the honourable Office and Dignitie of Lord Maier of London, with their pious deeds, and diuers other persons of the said Company, their names, and memorable Charities, with the [Page 55] liue remembrance of the Worshipfull Compa­nie of Clothworkers. And first, I begin with the first.

Anno 1189. In the beginning of the raigne of King Richard the first, Sir Henry Fitz Allen Draper, was the first Lord Maior of London, who continued in that dignity twenty foure yeres to­gether, till the fourteenth yeare of King Iohn, 1212 when he dyed he was a worthy benefactor to his Company, and gaue Houses to the vse of the poore in the Parish of Saint Mary Bothaw, in walbrooke Ward.

  • Anno 1252. Iohn Talason Draper Maior.
  • 1253. Richard Hardell Draper, 6. yeres Maior.
  • 1330. Sir Iohn Pultney Draper, 2. yeeres Maior.
  • 1332. Iohn Preston Draper Maior.
  • 1333. Sir Iohn Pultney Draper Maior.
  • 1336. Sir Iohn Pultney the tourth time Lord Maior, he built a Chappell in Pauls, where hee lyes buried: he also built Saint Laurence Pultney Church, and the Church of little Alhalowes, and the Church called the Fryers in Couentrie: hee gaue to the poore of Saint Giles in the Fields, to the poore Prisoners in the Fleet and Newgate, ten shillings to each yearely for euer, besides many other deeds of Charity which he did

Many of these men did good and charitable deeds, but they did them secretly in their liues time.

  • Anno 1363. Stephen Candish Draper Maior.
  • 1367. Iames Andrew Draper Maior.
  • 1381. Ioh. Northampt. Draper 2. yeres Maior.
  • 1391. Iohn Hinde Draper Maior.
  • Anno 1402. Iohn Walcot Draper Maior.
  • 1404 Iohn Hinde the second time Maior, he newly built the Church of Saint Swithin. neere London stone.
  • 1413. Sir William Cromer Draper Maior.
  • 1415. Sir Nicholas Wotton Draper Maior.
  • 1423. William Cromer Draper Maior.
  • 1427. Iohn Gedney Draper Maior.
  • 1430. Nicholas Wotton Draper Maior.
  • 1433. Ihon Brockle Draper Maior.
  • 1441. Robert Clopton Draper Maior.
  • 1445. Sir Simon Eyre Draper Maior, he built Lraden Hall for a Garnetie for the Citie, and gaue fiue thousand markes to charitable vses.
  • 1447. Sir Iohn Gedney Draper Maior.
  • 1453. Sir Iohn Norman Draper Maior.
  • 1458. Sir Thomas Scot Draper Maior.
  • 1462. Sir Thomas cooke Draper Maior.
  • 1464. Sir Ralph Ioslin Draper Maior,
  • 1474. Sir Robert Drope Draper Maior, hee ly­eth buried in Saint Michaels Church in Corne­hill London; he gaue towards poore Maids mar­riages of that Parish twenty pound, and to the poore of that Ward ten pound, and three hun­dred shirts and smockes, and hundred gownes of Broadcloth.
  • 1476. Sir Ralph Ioslin Draper, the 2. time Maior.
  • 1479. Sir Bartholomew Iames Draper Maior.
  • 1481. Sir William Harriet Draper Maior.
  • 1484. Sir William Stocker Draper Maior.
  • 1489. Sir William White Draper Maior.
  • 1503. Sir William Capell Draper Maior.
  • 1507. Laurence Aylmer Draper Maior.
  • 1509. Sir William Capell the 2. time Maior.
  • 1511. Sir Roger Achley Draper Maior.
  • 1514. Sir George Monox Draper Maior, hee re­paired the ruinated Church at Walthamstow in Essex, and erected a Free-schoole there, and thir­teene Almes-houses for aged people, also hee built a long Timber Cawsway ouer the Mar­shes from Walthamstow to Locke-bridge.
  • 1512. Sir Iohn Bruges Draper Maior.
  • 1521. Sir Iohn Milbourne Draper Maior, hee built fourteene Alines houses for fourteen aged poore people, neere the Lord Lumleyes house in the crossed or crouched Friers, allowing to each two shillings foure pence monthly for euer.
  • 1524. Sir William Bailie Draper Maior.
  • 1528. Sir Iohn Rudston Draper Maior.
  • 1533. Sir Christopher Askew Draper Maior, he payed largely to the building of eight Almes houses in Beechlane London, for eight poore wi­dowes of his Company.
  • 1540. Sir William Roch Draper Maior.
  • 1560. Sir VVilliam Chester Draper Maior.
  • 1565. Sir Richard Champion Draper Maior, a good Benefactor to the poore of Saint Dunstans in the East, and to the poore in Saint Edmunds in Lumbard street, hee gaue fiftie foure shillings yearely in bread for euer, besides other guists.
  • 1578. Sir Richard Pipe Draper Maior.
  • 1580. Sir Iohn Branch Draper Maior.
  • 1584. Sir Thomas Pullison Draper Maior.
  • [Page 56]1588. Sir Martin Calthrop Draper Maior.
  • 1614. Sir Thomas Hayes Draper Maior.
  • 1615. Sir Iohn Iolls Draper Maior.
  • 1621. Sir Edward Barkeham Draper Maior.
  • 1623. Martin Lumley Draper Maior.

These good deeds following were done by others of the said company, who were not Lord Maiors.

IOhn Holmes Draper, gaue his house to the poore in Saint Sepulchers Parish for euer, the yeerely rent of it being thirty two pound.

Iohn Russell Draper, gaue eighty pound to Schooler, and to other pious vses.

Iohn Quarles Draper, gaue sixe pound a yeare for euer, to be giuen to the poore in bread.

William Dummer Draper, gaue to the poore thirteene pound eighteene shillings foure pence, yeerely for euer.

Owen Clun Draper, gaue to the poore fiue and twentie pound yeerely for euer.

William Parker Draper, towards the mainte­nance of Preachers at Saint Antlins, sixe pounds yeerely for euer.

Iohn Skeet Draper gaue to the Hospitals at London three hundred pound, and to foure poore Schollers at Oxford fiae pound a peece, and the like to foure poore Schollers at Cam­bridge.

Henry Butler Draper, gaue to Saint Thomas Hospitall ten pound, to Christ-Church, Saint Bartholomewes, and Bridewell, fiue pounds to each.

Peter Hall Draper, gaue to Christs Hospitall ten pound, to Saint Bartholomewes and Saint Thomas Hospitall three pound to each.

Thomas Church Draper, gaue to Christs Hos­pitall and to Bridewell, to each ten pound, and to the Hospitals of Saint Thomas, and Saint Bartholomew, to either fiue pound.

Humphrey Fox Draper, gaue to Christs Church Hospitall fiftie pound.

Edmund Hill Draper, gaue to the poore of Saint Andrew Vnder shaft fiftie two pound, Anno 1609.

William Guilborne Draper, gaue foure markes the yeare for euer, to the poore of Saint Kathe­rine Christ Church, neere Aldegate, and twen­ty pound he gaue to build a Gallerie in the same Church.

Iohn Quarles Draper, gaue to the poore in Saint Peters in the poore in Brecstreet ward fif­tie pound to bee bestowed yearely in bread for euer.

Sir Richard Goddard Draper, and Alderman, gaue to the Hospitall of Bridewell two hundred pound.

Master Benedict Barnham Draper, gaue for the reliefe of the poore Prisoners in the seuerall prisons in London fiftie pound.

Sir Iames Deane, Draper and Alderman, gaue to the seuerall Hospitals in London a hundred and thirtie pound, and to sundry prison 70.1.

Lady Bainham, sometimes an A dermans wife of the Drapers Company, gaue to the poore of the said Company ten pound yeare­ly for euer.

Lancelot Thompson Draper gaue to the parish of Saint Peters in Cornehill, twenty pound for fiue Sermons, and a hundred pounds to the poore of the Drapers Companie, and fiue pound yeerely to hee bestowed by them in fire and bread on the poore of that Parish.

Richard shore Draper, gaue fifteene pound to build a Church porch at Saint Mildreds in the Poultry.

Iohn Calthrop Draper, built the bricke Wall betwixt the Hospitals of Christ Church and S. Bartholomew.

Iohn Chertsey Draper, gaue to the Hospitals 20.1. and to other charitable vses a 100.pound.

Master Henry Woolaston Draper, gaue to Saint Thomas Hospitall fortie pound, with other cha­ritable beneuolences.

These memorable and pious workes, (with many more then my weake capacitie can collect or reckon) haue beene done by the Drapers or Clothsellers, which doth approue the sheepe to be a thriuing, happy, and a most profitable beast. Now to speake somewhat of the Right Worship­full Company of Clothworkers.

Anno Domini, 1559. Sir William Hewet Clothworker, Lord Maior.

  • 1574. Sir Iames Hawes Clothworker L.Maior
  • 1583. Sir Edward Osborne Clothworker L. M.
  • 1594. Sir Iohn Spencer Clothworker L.Maior
  • [Page 57]1596. Sir Thomas Skinner Clothworker Lord
  • Maior gaue to the Hospitals in London and the Suburbs 120. l.
  • 1599. Sir Nicholas Mosley Clothworker L.M.
  • 1606. Sir Iohn Wats Clothworker Lord Ma­ior gaue to Christ Church Hospitall ten pound, [...] to the Hospitall of S. Thomas in Southwarke [...]tic pound.

King Ioses (our most gracious Soueraigne) was made a Irec [...] of the Worshipfull Company of Clothworkers, Sir Iohn [...] being then Lord Maior, who seasted his Marestie, Sir Wis [...] Knight, being then Master of the Company, at which [...] the King gaue a Guist of two brace of Buckes to the said Company yearely for euer, to bee spent at their feast in their [...]

Richard Faringdon Clothworker and Alder­mangaue to the seuerall Hospitals in London and the Suburbs 66. pound 13. shillings 4d.

Sir William Stone Clothworker, gaue to the [...]rall Prisons in London 50 pound.

Lady Barbara Stone, wife to the forenamed Sir William Stone, gaue to the Hospitall of Christ church one hundred pounds.

Lady Spencer wife to Sir Iohn Spencer cloth­worker gaue to the seuerall Hospitals 20. pound.

William Lambe Esquire, free of the Compa­ny Clothworkers, and one of the Gentlemen of the Chappell to King Henry the 8. built a Free Grammer Schoole at Sutton Valence in Kens, where he was borne) allowing yearely for euer to the Master of the said Schoole twenty pound, and to the Vsher ten pound: Also he built sixe Alemet-houses there, with Gardens and Orch­ards and ten pound yearely to each of them foreuer. Besides he gaue to the Free Schoole at Maidstone in Kent ten pound yearely for euer, which he appointed to bee bestowed onely vpon [...] children, who were destitute of friends and [...]courlesse. Also hee bestowed three hundred pound for the vse of decayed Clothiers in the countie [...] of Suffolke, and in the Townes of Bridg­ [...]le. and Ludlow. Moreouer, hee built two conduits in London, one at Holbourne Bridge, and the other on the Hill towards New Gate, [...]oth of which cost 1500 pounds; at which time [...]gaue 120. new Pailes to so many poore wo­ [...] to beare Water withall: Moreouer, hee gaue thirty pound a yeare to his Company for e­uer, and 4. pounds yearely to a Minister for 4. Sermons, and 301. yearely for euer, to be bestow­ed on twelue poore men, and twelue poore wo­men; each of them to haue a Freeze Gowne, one Lockerom shirt or smocke, one paire of winter shooes; which guist is yearely distributed on the first of October; he also gaue to the poore of Saint Giles Parish without Cripplegate fif­teene pound. To the poore of the Company of Stationers, hee gaue sixe pounds, thirteene shillings, 4d. yearely for euer, to be bestowed e­uery Friday in the Parish of S. Faiths, on twelue poore people twelue pence in bread, and twelue pence in money. He gaue to Christs Hospitall Sixe pounds yearely for euer, and 100. pound in readie money present: Hee gaue to S. Thomas Hospitall 4. pounds yearely for euer: and to poore Maides marriage hee gaue 20. pounds: besides Newgate, Ludgate, the two Comptors in London, the Marshalsea, the Kings Bench, and the White Lyon, had all most louing tasts of his Charitable liberalitie: and in conclusion, he gaue 108. Gownes to poore aged people at his Funerall.

This was a Lambe, whose like was neuer any,
Whose loue and pitty fed and cloth'd so many:
And'sis no doubt, but these good deeds of his,
Did helpe to lift his soule to endlesse Blisse.

Master Iohn Berriman of Byshops Tannton in the Countie of Deuonshire, Clothier, and free Draper of London, gaue to the Hospitall of Christ Church 100. pounds to S, Bartholomews 5.pounds: to S. Thomas Hospitall 6. pounds; to Bridewell 40. shillings: and to the Hospitall of Bethlehem, 50. pounds.

Peter Blundell Clothier, gaue to Christ-Church Hospitall, 500. pounds: to Saint Bartholomewes Hos­pitall 250. pounds: to Saint Thomas Hos­pitall 250. pounds: to Bridewell 8. pounds yeare­ly for euer: to the Reparation of the Church at Tiuerton (where he was borne) fiftie pounds: towards the mending of High-wayes, one hun­dred pounds; to the twelue Companies in Lon­don, to euery of them one hundred and fiftie pound: to poore Maides marriages in Tiuerton foure hundred pound: to the poore at Exeter, hee gaue nine hundred pound: to build a Gram­mar-schoole [Page 58] at Tiuerten, 2400.l. and after layd out by his Executors, one thousand pound: to the Schoole-master fiftie pounds yearely for e­uer: to the Vsher 13. pound 6. shillings 8. pence yearely: to the Clarke 40. shillings yearely: to place foure poore boyes yearely Apprentises, twenty pounds per annum: to keepe 3. Schollers at Oxford, and three at Cambridge, 2000. pound.

Robert Chilcot, seruant to the aforesaid M r. Blundell gaue to Christs Hospitall 100. pound, towards a meauer Schoole to haue Children taught, to be fit for his Masters Grāmer, schoole: he gaue 400. pound to maintaine it: he gaue 90. pound, allowing the Scholemaster yearely 20. l. the Clarke 3. pound, and toward Reparations 40. shillings per annum: to fifteene poore men he gaue sixteene pounds, 10. shillings a yeare for euer: to 15. poote labouring men, 15. pound: to 15. poore people weekely, sixe pence each, for euer to mend the Church at Tiuerton, 19. pound ten shillings; to mend High wayes ten pounds; and to other charitable vles more then is men­tioned.

Thus hath it pleased God, that these men (whose trades and liuings were deriued from the poore Sheepes backe) haue not onely growne to great wealth and places of honour, but haue bin also great Instruments of the Almightles mercy, in relieuing the needie and impotent members of Christ: & should I reckon vp the particulars of profits that arise from this Beast, to Graziers, Butchers, Skinners, Glouers, Felmongers, Leather sellers, Feltmongers, Taylors, and an infinite number of other Trades and Functions, who could not liue, or else liue very hardly without this Commoditie. I say, should I write of these things in particular, my worke would neuer bee done in generall.

Wooll hath beene formerly in such esteeme in England, that in Parliament holden the 36. of Edward the 3 the King had his Subiects payd him in Wooll; and before that, in the eleuenth yeare of his Raigne, it was forbidden to be transported out of this Kingdome; and then did strangers come ouer hither, from diuers parts beyond the Seas, who were Fullers, Weauers, and Clothworkers, whom the King entertained, and baro all their charges out of his Exchequer: at which time, the Staples, or places of Merchandize for Wools, were kept at diuers places of this Land at once; as at Newcastle, Yorke, Lin­colne, canterbury, Norwich, Westminster, Chiche­ster, Winchester, Exeter, Bristoll, and carmarthen: by which may bee perceiued what a great com­modity Wooll was in those dayes. But in the 6. yeare of King Edward the 4. the King sent certaine Sheep out of Cotswold, in Glocester shire, in­to Spaine, the encrease of which so enriched the Spaniards with our Wooll, that euer since, it hath beene in the lesse request in England: neuerthe­lesse as it is, it is the means of life and maintai­nance for many hundred thousands.

Here fokoweth a touch of paultry Scabbed and infecti­ous kinds of Sheepe, which I thinke sit to place by themselues in the lagge end of my Booke, as farre [...] I can from the cleane, sound and profitable Sheepe be­fore mentioned, for feare the bad should infect the good.

ANd now from solid Prose I will abstaine
To pleasant Poetrie, and mirth againe.
The Fable of the golden Fleece began,
Cause Sheepe did yeeld such store of gold to Man,
For he that hath great store of woolly Fleeces,
May (when he please) haue store of golden peeces,
Thus many a poore man dying hath left a Sonne,
That hath transform'd the Fleece to Gold like Iases
And heere's a my stery profound and deepe,
There's sundry sorts of Mutton, are no Sheepe:
Lac'd Mutton which let out themselues to hire,
Like Hackneys, who'lbe fir'd before they tire.
The man or man which for such Mutton hungers
Are (by their Corporation) Mutton mongers:
Which is a brother-hood so large and great,
That if they had a Hall, I would intreat
To be their Clarke, or keeper of accounts,
To shew them vnto what their charge amounts:
My braines in numbring then would grow so quicke
I should be Master of Arithmeticke:
All States, degrees, and Trades, both bad and good,
Afford some members of this Brotherhood;
Great therefore needs must be their multitude,
When euery man may to the Trade intrude;
It is no freedome, yet these men are free,
Not sauers, but most liberall spenders be:
For this is one thing that doth them bewitch,
That by their trading they ware seldome rich:
The value of this Mutton to set forth,
The flesh doth cost more than the broth is worth:
[Page 59]They all Ewes, yet are exceeding Ramish,
And will be dainty fed, whoso'uer famish.
Nor are they mark'd for any man, or no man,
As mene, or thine, but euery mans in common,
[...]beads, and necker, and breasts, they yeeld some itore
[...]scarcely one good liuer in nine score:
Liuers being bad, 'tis vnderstood,
The reinea are fild with putrified blood,
Which makes them subiect to the scab, and then
They prone most dangerous diet vnto men.
And then the prouerbe proues no lye or mocke,
On seabbed sheep's enough to spoyle a focke.
But yet for all this, there is many a Gall,
[...] Mutton well, and dips his bread [...] the weell.
And were a man put to his choyce to keepe,
'Tis said, a Sbriw is better then a Sheepe.
[...] if a man be yok'd with such an E [...],
See may be both seabbed Sheepe and Shrew.
And he that is so march'd his life may well
Compared be vnto an earthly hell.
Into my Theame which I wrote of before,
Let this Mutten must haue one cut more.
These kind of Sheepe haue all the world ore'growne,
And seldome doe weare flecces of their owne,
For they from sundry men their pelts can pull.
Whereby they keepe themselues as warme as wooll.
Besides, in colours, and in shape, they varie
Quite from all profitable sheepe contrarie
White, blacke, greene, rawny, purple, red, and blue,
Beyond the Raine-bow for their change of hue:
[...] like in alteration,
[...] that bare Ayre they cannot liue vpon.
The Moones mutation's not more manifold,
Silke, Veluet, Tissue, Cloath, and cloath of Gold:
These are the Sheep that Golden fleeces weare,
Who robe themselues with others Wooll or haire:
And it may bee, 'twas such a Beast and Fleece,
Which Iason brought from Cholcos, into Greece.
They are as soft as silke-wormes.
VVere it no more but so, I dare be bold
To thinke this Land doth many Iasons hold:
VVno neuer durst to passe a dang'rous waue,
Yet may (with ease) such Golden fleeces haue,
Too much of one thing's good for nought (they say)
Ile therefore take this needlesse dish away:
For should I too much of of Lac'd Mutton write
I mayo'recome my readers stomacke quite.
Once more vnto the good Sheepe ile recare,
And so my Booke shall to its end exspire:
Although it be not found in ancient writers,
I finde all Mutton-caters are Sheepe-biters
And in some places I haue heard and seene,
That cutrish Sheepe-bisers haue hanged beene.
If any kinde of Tike should snarle or whine,
Or bite, or wootry this poore Sheepe of mine.
Why let them barke and bite, and spend their breath,
Ile neuer with them a Sheepe bitter's death.
My Sheepe will haue them know her Innocence
Shall liue in spight of their malcuolence;
I wish them keepe: themselues and me from paine,
And bite such sheeps as cannot bite againe.
For if they snap at mine, I haue a pen,
That (like a truky dog) shall bite agen.
And in conclusion, this I humbly crane,
That euery one the honesty may haue,
That when our fraile mortality is past,
We may be the good Shepheards sheepe at last.
FINIS.

THE PRAISE OF HEMP-SEED. WITH The Voyage of Mr. Roger Bird and the Writer hereof, in a Boat of browne-Paper, from London to Quinborough in Kent. As also, a Farewell to the matchlesse deceased Mr. THOMAS CORIAT.

The Profits arising by Hemp seed are
Cloathing, Food, Fishing, Shipping,
The Profits arising by Hemp seed are
Pleasure, Profit, Iustice, Whipping.

DEDICATED TO THE RIGHT WORSHIP FVLL, PA­ternes and Patrons of honest endeuours, Sir THOMAS HOVVET, and Sir ROBERT WISEMAN Knights: And to the worthy Gentleman, M r. IOHN WISHMAN, Health, Mirth, and Happinesse, be euer attendants.

NOBLE SIRS:

I Could haue soyled a greater volume then this with a deale of emptie and tri­uiall scuffe: as puling Sonets, whining Elegies, the dog-trickes of Loue [...] to mocke Apes, and transforme men into Asses. Which kind of writing is like a man in Authoritie, ancient in yeares, rouerend in Beard, with a promi­sing out-side of Wisedome and Grauitie, yet in the expected performances of his profound vnder standing, his capacitie speakes nething but Mutimus, But heere your Worships shall find no such stuffe: for thou I haue not done as I should, yet I haue performed as much as I could. I haue not had riuers of Oyle, or fountaines of wine to fill this my poore caske or booke: but I haue (as it were) extracted oyle out of steels, and wine out of dry chaffe. I haue here of a graine of Hemp­seed made a mountaine greater then the Apenines or Caucalus, and not much lesser then the whole world. Here is Labour, Profit, Cloathing, Pleasure, Food, Nauigation: Diuinitie, Poetry, the liberall Arts, Armes, Vertues defence, Vices offence, a true mans protection, a Thiefes execution. Here is mirth and matter all beaten out of this small Seed.

With all, my selfe for my selfe, and in the behalfe of Mr. Roger Bird, doe most humbly thanke your Worships for many former vndeserued courtesies and fauours extended towards vs, especially at our go­ing our dangerous Voyage in the Paper boat: for which wee must euer acknowledge our selues bound to your Goodnesses. Which voyage I haue merrily related at the end of this Pamphlet, which with the rest I haue made bold to dedicate to your Worshipfull and worthy Patronages, humbly desiring your pardons and acceptances, euer remaining to bee commanded by yon and yours in all obsequiousnesse.

IOHN TAYLOR.

THE CONTENTS OF THIS BOOKE.

  • 1 The most part of such Authors are nominated, as haue written of triuiall matters.
  • 2 The Names of most of the Pagan and Heathenish Idols, that haue beene and are honoured at this present.
  • 3 The profit and pleasure all Countries haue by Hemp-seed.
  • 4 How it propagates the Gospell.
  • 5 Nauigation, with the Commodities it brings and carries.
  • 6 How many Trades and Functions liue by it.
  • 7 How when it is worne to ragges, it is made into Paper.
  • 8 How many liue by it being Paper.
  • 9 The sacred memory of Patriarchs, Prophets, Euangelists, Apostles, and Fathers.
  • 10 The foure Monarchies.
  • 11 The seauen Wonders.
  • 12 Philosophers, Historians, Chronographers, Poets ancient and moderne, the best fort mentioned.
  • 13 The Anatomy of a Brownist, or precise Amsterdamd Puritane.
  • 14 A Voyage in a Paper-boat to Quinborough.
  • 15 The description of a Sea-storme.
  • 16 The Names of the most famous Riuers in the World.
  • 17 The praise of the noble Riuer of Thames,

A. Preamble, Preatrot, Preagallop, Preauick, Preapace, or Preface; and Proface my Masters, if your stomackes serue.

BOoke, goe thy wayes, and honest mirth prouoke:
And spightfull spirits with Melancholy choake.
[...] I command thee, where thou dost resort.
To be the bad mens terrour, good mens sport.
Netre as thou canst, I pray thee doe not misse,
In make them vnderstand what Hempseed &.
Me thinkes I heare some knauish foolish head,
Accuse condemne, and judge before bee read:
Saying, the fellow that the same hath made,
It ame bouicke Waterman by trade:
And therefore it cannot worth reading be,
Being compil'd by such anoue as he.
Another spends his censure like Tom ladle,
(Brings in his fine egs, soure of which are adle)
Mewes and makes faces, yet scarce knowes what's what:
Hemp.seed (quoth he) what canbe writ of that?
Thus these deprauing minds their iudgements scatter
Eyber against the Writer or the Matter.
But let them (if they please) reade this Preamble,
And they will finde that I haue made a scamble
To s [...]ew my pocre plentious want of skill,
How Hemp-seed doth deserue, preserue, and kill,
I muse that neuer any exe'lent wit
Of this forgotten subiect yet bath writ.
The theams is rich, although esteemed meane,
Not scuvrulous, prophane, nor yet obsceane.
And such as taske may well become a quill
To blaze it, that hath all the grounds of skill.
This worke were no dishonour or abuse,
To Homer, Ouid, or to Marots Muse.
A thousand Writers for their art renown'd
Haue made farrt baser things their studies ground.
That men haue cause to raile' gainst fruitlesse Rimes,
(Vainely compil'd in past and present times,)
And say, O Hemp-seed, how art thou forgotten
By many Potts that are dead and rotten I
And yet how many will forget the still,
Till they put on a Tyburne Pickadill.
The Names of most of such Authors or their Workes, as haue writ vpon many poore subiects.
Erasmus, that great Clerke of Rotterdam,
In praise of Folly many lines did frame:
The summe and pith of all his whole intents
Showes Fooles are guilty, and yet Innocents.
[Page 62]Another, briefly, barely did relate
The naked honour of a bare bald Pate:
And for there's not a haire twixt them and heau'n,
The title of tall men to them is giuen:
And sure they put their foes in such great dread.
That none dares touch a haire vpon their head.
Mountgomerie, a fine Scholler did compile
The Cherrry and the Sloe in learned stile.
Homer wrote brauely of the Frog and Rat,
And Virgil versifi'd vpon a Gnat,
Ouid set forth the Art of lustfull Loue.
Another wrote the Treatise of the Deue.
One with the Grashopper doth keepe a rut.
Another rimes vpon a Hazell Nut.
One with a neat Sophisticke Paradoxe
Sets sorth the commendations of the Poxe.
Signout Inamorato's Muse doth sing
In honour of his Mistris Gloue or Ring,
Her Maske, her Fanne, her Pantosle, her Glasse.
Her Any thing, can turne him to an Asse.
Plinie and Aristotle Write of Bees.
Some write of Beggeries twenty foure degrees.
One of the Owle did learnedly endite,
And brought the Night bird welcome to day-light.
A second did defend with tooth and nayle.
The strange contentment men may find in Iayle.
A third doth the third Richard much commend,
And all his bloudy actions doth defend.
A fourth doth shew his wits exceeding quicknesse,
In praise of Tauerns healths and Drunken sicknesse.
A fift doth toyle hit Muse quite out of breath,
Of aduerse Fortune, banishment or death.
A sixt the very Firmament doth harrow,
Writes of the Parret, Popinjay and Sparrow,
The Storke, the Cuckoe: Nothing can escape,
The Horse, the Dog, asse, foxe, ferret, and the ape.
Mounsieur de Gallia, writes all night till noone,
Commending highly Ten [...]is or Baloone.
Anothers Museus high as Luna flies,
In praise of hoar sursse, dropsies, and bleare eyes,
The Gout, Sciatica, scab'd hams, small legs:
Of thred-bare cloakes, a jewes-trump, or potch'd egges.
One, all his wit at once, in Rime discloses
The admirable honour of red noses:
And how the nose magnificat at doth beare
A tincturs, that did neuer colour feare.
One doth her [...]icke it throng hout our coast,
The vertue of muld-facke, and ale and toast.
Another takes great paints with inke and pen,
Approuing fat men are true honest men.
Out makes the ha [...]ig h [...]y va [...]ty welkin ring
In praise of Custards, and a bag, pudding.
Another, [...]the [...] inke and paper,
Exalting Dauncing makes his Muse to caper.
Anothers humour will nothing allow
To bee more profitable [...] a Cow,
Licking his lips, in thinking that his theame
Is milke, cheese, butter, whay, whig, curds, and creame,
Leather ana Veale, and that which is most chiefe
Tripes, chitterlings, or fresh powder'd beefe.
A number haue contagiously rehearsed
And on Tobacco vpouriz'd and vearsed.
Maintaining that it was a drug deuine
Fit to be seru'd by all the Sisters nine.
Yet this much of it, I shall euer thinke,
The more men stirre in it, the more 'twill stinke,
A learned Knight, of much esteeme and worth,
A pamphlet of a Priuie did set forth,
Which strong breath'd Ajax was well like'd, because
Twas writ with wit and did deserue applause.
One wrote the Nightingale and lab'ring Ant.
Another of the Flea and th'Elephant.
Tom Nash a witty pamphlet did endite
In praise of Herrings, both the red and write.
And some haue writ of Maggots and of Flies
A world of fables, fooleri [...]s, and lies.
And this rare Hempsee a that such profit brings,
To all estates of subiects, and of Kings,
Which rich commoditie of man should lacke,
He were not worth a shirt vnto his backe.
And shall is no tryamphant honour haue,
But lye dead, buried in obliuions graue?
Some Critticks will perhaps my writing tax
With falshood, and maintaine their shirts are flax,
To such as those, my answer shall be this,
That Flax the male and Hemp the female is,
And thier engendring procreatiue seed
A thousand thousand helpes for man [...]ath breed.
And as a man by glauncing vp his eye
Sees in the aire a stocke of wilde Geese flye:
And ducks, and woodcocks, oyboth sexes be
Though men doe name but one, forbreuity,
There'eganders 'mongst the geese, hens with the cocks,
Drakes with the ducks, all male and female stocks,
The Ewe, the Ram, the Lambe, and the sat weather,
In generall are called sheepe together.
Harts, Stages, Bucks, Does, Hinds, Roes, Fawnes, euery where,
Are in the generality call'd Deere.
So Hemp and Flax, or which you list to name
Are male and female, both one, and the same.
Those that 'gainst these comparisons deride,
And will not with my lines be satisfide,
Let them imagine e' [...]e they doe condemne
I loue to play the foole with such as them.
The cause why Hempseed hath endur'd this wrong
And hath its worthy praise obscur'd so long,
I doe suppose it to bee onely this
That Poets know their insufficience is,
That were earth Paper, and Sea inke, they know
'T were not enough great Hempseeds worth to show,
I muse the Pagans, with varietie,
Of godles Gods, made it no Deity.
Heeree followes the names of most of the heathen Gods and [...]s.
The AEgyptians to a Bull, they Arts nam'd
A temple most magnificent they framed,
The [...]is, Crocodile, a cat, a dog,
The Hippopostamy, beetles, or a frog.
[...]mons, dragons, the wolfe, aspe, [...]le, and R [...],
(Base beastly gods, for such curst [...] of Cham,)
[...]s were so with I dolatry misted,
They worship'd Onio [...]s, and a garlike h [...]ad.
If these people had tasted but a messe of Tewxbury must and they would surely haue honoured it [...]ot a God or [...]eared it as a [...].
King Ieroboam for his gods did take,
Two golden calues, and the tru [...] God forsake,
[...] Philistins, and the Assirians,
The Persians and Babilonians,
S [...]rit [...]ns, and the Arabians,
The Thebans, Spartans, and Athenians,
The Indians, Parthians, and the Libians
The Britaines, Galliant, and Hibernians:
Since the first Chaos, or creation
[...]ry hath crept in euery Nation,
And as the diuell did mens minds inspire,
Some worshipt, earth, seme aire, or water, fire,
Windes, Riuers, Rainbow, Stars, and Moone and Sun:
Ceres, and Bacchus riding on his [...]un,
Mars, Saturne, Ioue, Apollo, Mercury;
Priapus and the Queene of techery,
Vulcan, Diana, Pluto, Proserpine,
P [...], Neptune, and Pan [...] piping shrine:
Old B [...]m Ber [...]c [...]rthia: Stones and Trees
B [...]wit [...] [...] creat [...]r [...] worshipt on their knees.
B [...]l, B [...]z, [...], Ni [...]ro [...], the Di [...]ll, and D [...]gon,
Ash [...]a [...]oth, R [...]mmon, Belus, B [...]li, the Dragon:
Flies, soules, hawkes, [...]men; any thing they) saw:
Their very P [...]ies they did serne with awe:
And the [...] did sacrifice, at sundry [...]sts
Their ch [...]e [...] vnto diuels, stockes, stones and beasts.
O had these men the worth of Humpseed knowne,
Their b [...], z [...] (no doubt) they would haue showne
In building Temples, and would alters frame.
Lake Ephesus to great Dianaes name.
And therefore Merchants, Marr [...]ners, people all
Of all trades, on your marrow bones [...] [...] fall:
For you could neither rose, or b [...]te or [...]p,
If noble Hempseed did not hold you vp.
And Reader now [...] [...] it is [...] [...]
To come vnto the matter with my [...].
But iudge not [...] you [...] well read and scan'd.
And asks your selues if you dec vnder stand:
And if you can, doe but this fauour shew
Make no ill faces, cry [...] [...] and [...]mew:
For though I dare not brag, I dare [...] taine
T [...]ue censurers will iudge I haue [...] paine.
Vnto the wise I humbly doe submit:
For those that play the fooles for want of wit,
My poore reuenge against them st [...] shall be,
Ile laugh at them whilst they doe scoffe at me.

THE PRAISE OF HEMP-SEED: WITH The Voyage of Mr. Roger Bird and the Writer hereof, in a Boat of browne-Paper, from London to Quinborough in Kent.

SWeet sacred Muses, my inuention raise
Vnto the life, to writ [...] great Hempseeds praise.
This grain growes to a stalk, wrose coat or [...]in,
Good industry doth [...]a [...]chell [...]t [...], and [...]pin,
And for mans best aduantage and auailes
It makes clothes, cordage, halters, ropes and sailes,
From this small A [...]ome, mighty matters springs,
It is the Art of nauigations wings;
It spreads aloft, the lofty skie it scales,
[...]s o're the great Leuiathan and Whales,
D [...]es to the boundlesse bottome of the deepe,
What Neptune doth mongst dreadful monsters keep,
[Page 64]From Pole to pole, it cuts both Seas and Skyes,
From th'orient to the occident it flyes.
Kings that are s [...]ndred farre, by Seas and Lands,
It makes them in a manner to shake hands.
It fils our Land with plenty wonderfull,
From th'Esterne Indi [...] from the great Mogull,
From France, from Portiagale, from Venice, Spaine,
From Denmarke, Norw [...]y, it se [...]ds o'er the maine,
Vnto this Kingdome it doth wealth acrue
From beyond China. farre beyond ' Peru
From Be [...]g [...]a, Almaine, the West Indies, and
From Guiny, Biny, [...]and, New sound land,
This little seed is the great instrument
To shew the power of God Omnipotent,
Whereby the glorious Gospell of his Sonne,
Millions misled soules hath from Sathan wonne.
It is an instrument by the appointment of God for the encrease of the Gospell of Christ.
Those that knew no God in the times of yore,
Now they their great Creator doe adore,
And many that did thinke they did doe well
To giue themselues a sacrifice to Hell,
And seru'd the Diuell with th'inhumane slaughters,
Of their vnhappy haplesse sonnes and daughters.
Now they the remnant of their liues doe frame
To praise their Makers and Redeemers name.
Witnesse Virginia, witnesse many moe,
Witnesse our selues few hundred yeares agoe,
When in Religion, and in barbarous natures,
We were poore wretched misbeleeuing creatures.
How had Gods Preachers faild to sundry coasts,
Tinstrust men how to know the Lord of Hosts?
But for the Sayles which he with wind doth fill.
As Seruants to accomplish his great will.
But leauing this high supernaturall straine,
I'le talke of Hempseed in a lower vaine.
How should we haue gold, siluer, jems, or Iewels,
Wine, oyle, spice, rice, and diuers sorts of fewels:
Food for the belly, clothing fot the ba [...]ke,
Silke, Sattin, Veluat, any thing we lacke,
To serue neces [...]icies? How should we get
Such sorts of plenteous fish, but with the net?
The smelt, Roaoh, Salmon, Flounder and the Dace,
Would in fresh riuers keeps their dwelling place.
The Ling, Cod, Herring, Sturgeon, such as these
Would li [...]e and dy [...] in their owne natiue Seas.
Without this feed the Whale could not be caught,
Whereby our oyles are out of Greenland brought.
Nay wer't not for the net made of this seed,
M [...]n could not catch a Sprat whereon to feed.
Besides, it liberally each where bestowes
A liuing vpon thousands where it growes:
As beaters, Spinners, Weauers, and a crue
Of halter makers which could s [...]rce line true,
But for th'imployment which this little graine
Doth vse them in, and payes them for their paine.
Mirth and Truth are good companions.
The Rope makers, the Net makers, and all
Would be trade falne, for their trade would fall.
Besides, what multitudes of Fishers are
In euery Sea, town [...], numbers past compare,
Whilest they their seruants, children and their wiues.
From Hempsceed get their liuing all their liues.
The Fish-mongers would quickly goe to wrack,
The lacke of this seed would be their great lack,
And being now rich, and in good reputation,
They would haue neither Hall nor Corporation,
And all that they could buy, or sell, or barter
Would scarce be worth a Gubb in once a quarter.
The mounting Larke, that seemes so high to f [...]ye,
Vntill she seemes no greater then a Flie;
And to the flaming Sunne doth chirp and prate,
Doth in the net come to her ending date.
My neighbour Woodcocke, buzzard and the Gull,
And Philip Sparrow all most plentifull.
All sorts or faire fowle, or the soule [...] fowle,
From the degree of the Eagle to the Owle,
Are with ingenucut j [...]ns, grins, ne [...]s and snares
For mans reliefe oft taken vnawares:
Deeres, Hares, and Conies would too much abound,
And ouer-run the beating breeding ground,
And We [...]z [...]ls, Polcats, Wildcats, Stoats ans such
Like spoyling Vermin, would annoy men much
But for toyles, hayes, for traps, for snares and grins,
Which brings vs food, and profit by their skins,
No Plowman liues beneath the azure Cope,
But for his plough or cart must vse the rope:
No Ho [...]tler liues in ours, or other Lands,
But makes the halters Horses falling bands.
B [...]l [...] would hang dead within the loftie steeple
And neuer call to Church forgetfull people,
Mute like a bagbite, that hath lost his bag,
Except the Bell ropes made the clappers wag.
It were an endlesse t [...]ke [...]o goe about it,
To reckon those that cannot liue without it,
Alasse what would our silken Mercers be?
What could they doe (sweet Hempseed) but for thee?
Rash, Taffata, Paropa, and Nouato,
Shagge, Pillizetta, Damaske and Mockado,
No Veluers Piles, two Piles, pile and halfe Pile,
No Plush, or Grograines could adorne this Ile,
No cloth of siluer, Gold, or Tisue, here:
Philip and Cheiny neuer would appeare
Within our bounds, nor any Flanders-ferge
Could euer come within our Kingdomes verge:
Should Mercers want these things with diuers more [...]
Their trade were nothing or else very poore.
This seed doth helpe the Grocer euery season,
Or else his wisedome could not yeeld a reison;
[Page 65]He could not long be Currant in his state.
And (scarcely worth a fig) would end his Date.
For Cloues his credit would be clouen quick,
Not from the loafe or lumpe, his lips could licke:
No Natmegs, Liquoris, or biting graines
Or Almons for a Parrat, were his gaines,
Sans Ginger weakely he would run his Race,
And Powltry Mace, would put downe Indian Mace:
And he vnable (through his want of pelfe)
To pepper vs, or yet to prune himselfe.
The Draper of his wealth would much be shorted
But that our cloathes and Kersies are transported,
Our cottons, penistones, frizadoes, baze,
Our sundry sorts of frizes, blackes and grayes.
And linnen D [...]apers but for transportation,
Could hardly, Canuase out their occupation.
Hempseed doth yeeld or else it doth allow
L [...]awne, Cambricke, Holland, Canuase, Callico,
Normandy, Hambrough, strong poledauis, Lockram,
And to make vp the Rime (with reason) Buckram.
The Gold smiths trade would totter and vnsettle,
And he could be a man of no good mettle,
Were't not for Sailes and Ropes that Ships doe rig,
That bring gold, siluer, many a Sow and Pig;
Which makes them by an admirable skill
To liue by that which many a Horse doth kill,
Which is the * Fashions: for continually
They sell the fashion, but they seldome buy.
And braue wine Marchants, little were your gaine,
By Mallegoes, Canaries Sacke from Spaine,
Sweet Allegant, and the concocted Cute,
Hollock and Tent would be of small repute.
O all you Ba [...]hinalian dr [...]nkards honour Hamp-seed.
Your Bastards their owne Fathers would forget,
Nor they our Gossips lips no more would wet.
The wind no Muskadine could hither bandy,
Or sprightfull Malmesey out of fruitfull Candy.
Liatica or Corsica could not
From their owne bearing breeding bounds be got.
Peter-se-me [...], or head strong Charnico,
Sherry, nor Rob-o-Dauy here could flow.
The French Frontini [...]cke, Claret, Red nor White,
Graues nor High-Country could our hearts delight.
No Gascoygne, Orloance, or the Chrystall Sherrant
Nor Rhenish from the Rheine would be apparant.
Thus Heempseed, w th these wines, our land doth spread
Which if we want, wine Marchants trades were dead.
The Vintners trade were hardly worth a rush
Vnable to hang vp a signe, or bush;
And were't not for this small forgotten graine
Their coniuring at midnight would be vaine.
Anon, anon, would be forgotten soone,
And he might seore a pudding in the Moone,
But not a pinte of Clarret in the Sunne,
Because the emptie hogshead co [...]k [...] not runne,
His blushing lattice would looke pile and wan.
Nor could he long be a well liquord man:
No more could all his regiment [...] of pots
A [...]right men daily, with scores [...] bell [...]s, and s [...]ots.
The Taylors trade would hardly get them bread
If Hempseed did not furnish them with thread;
And though it [...] a terror to most [...]ues
Yet it thus occupation neuer greeues,
They loue it, black, brown, yellow greene, red, blew,
Which is a signe, that Taylers must be true:
The worthy Company, or warme lin'd Skinners
Would in short spact be miserable sinners
It Hempseed did not oft supply their boxes
With Russian Sables, Miniuers and Foxes:
With Beares & Budges, and rare powe [...]red Ermines,
And with the skins of diuers beasts and Vermines.
The Habberdasher of small ware, would be
In a small time, a man of small degree:
If Hempseed did not helpe him by the great,
Small would his gaines be, to buy cloathes or meat.
Then might his wares be rightly tearmed small
Which would be eyther few or none at all,
And
They might liue to dye poorely, but not dye to liue rich.
Dyers though you doe no colours feare,
'Tis Hemseed that doth you to riches reare,
Woad, Madder, Indico and Cutcheneale,
Brazil, and Logwood, and aboundant deale
Of drugs, which did they not your wants supply,
You could not liue, because you could not dye.
Apothecaries were not worth a pin,
If Hempseed did not bring their commings in;
Oyles, Vnguents, Sirrops, Minerals, and Baulmes,
(All Natures treasure, and th'Almighties almes,)
Emplasters, Simples, Compounds, sundry drugs
With Necromanticke names like fearefull Bugs,
Fumes, Vomits, purges, that both cures, and kils,
Extractions, consernes, preserues, potions, pils,
Ellixers, simples, compounds, distillations,
Gums in abundance, brought from foraigne nations.
A braue world for Physitions and Chyrurgions the while.
And all or most of these forenamed things
Helps, health, preseruatiues: and riches brings.
There's many a Gallant dallying with a Drab,
Hath got the Spanish pip, or Naples scab.
The Golliae Morbus or the Scottish fleas,
Or English Poxe, for all's but one disease,
And though they were perfum'd with Ciuet hot
Yet wanting these things they would stinke and rot,
With gowts, Consumptions, Palsies, Lethargies,
With apoplexies, quinzies, plurifies,
Cramps, cataracts, the teare-throat cough and tisick
From which, to health men are restor'd by Physicke,
[Page 66]Agues, quotidian, quartan:, tertian, or
The leprosie, which all men doe abhor.
The stone, strangury, botches biles, or blaines,
Head [...] aches, cankers, swimming of the braines,
Ruptures, Herni [...]quosa, or Carnosa,
Or the Evlien hernia veniosa.
All Dropsies, Collicks, laundizes, or Scabs,
Gangrenaes, Vicers, wounds, and mortall stabs.
Illiaca passioes, Megrims, Mumps, or Mange,
Contagious bloods, which through the veins do range
S [...]rsses, [...]eazles, murraines, fluxes, all these griefes,
T [...]ansported me [...]ines daily bring releefes,
Most seruiceable Hempseed but for thee,
These helpes for man could not thus scattered be.
T [...]bacoes fire would soone be quenched out,
Nor would it leade men by the nose about:
Nor could the Merchants of such Heathen D [...]cks
From small beginnings purchase mighty stocks:
By folles daily dancing to their pipe
Their states from rotten stinking weeds grow ripe;
By which meanes they haue into Lordships run
The Clients being beggered and, vndone:
Who hauing smock'd their Land to fire and ayre
They whiffe and puffe themselues into dispaire.
Ouid 'mongst all his Metamorphosis
Ne're knew a * transformation like to this,
Not yet could Ocdipus e're vnderstand,
How to rurne Land to smoake, and smoake to Land.
For by the meanes of this bewitening smother,
O [...]e Element is turn'd into another,
As Land to fire, fire, into Ayrie matter,
From ayre (too late repenning) turnes to water.
By Hempseed thus, fire water, aire, earth, all
Are chang'd by padding, leafe, roule, pipe and ball.
Lip licking Comfit-makers, by whole trade,
Dainties come thou to me are quickly made;
Baboones, and hobby horses, and owles, and apes,
Swans, geese, dogs, woodcocks, & a world of shapes,
Castles for Ladies, and for Carpet Knights,
Vnmercifully spoyld at feasting fights.
Where hattering bullets are fine sugred plums,
No feare of roaring guns, or thundring drums:
There's no tantara, sa sa sa, or force,
Of man to man, or warlike horse to horse;
No mines, no countermines, no pallizidoes,
No parrapets, or secret ambuscadoes,
Of bloud and wounds, and dismall piercing lances
Men at this fight are free from such mischances.
For many gailants guilded swords doe weare,
Who fight these battels without wit or feare:
All [...]uing as they did for honour thirst,
All greedy which can giue the onser first;
Each one contending in this Candied coyle,
To take most prisoners, and put vp most spoyle.
Sweet warris, and dangerous to [...]th.v [...]lours.
Retiring neuer when they doe assoile,
But most aduenturously with tooth and nayle,
Raze, r [...]te, demol'sh, and con'ound,
The sugred fabricke [...]ll with the ground.
And hauing la [...]d the buildings thus along,
They swallow downe, and pocket vp the wrong.
That who so that way afterwards doe passe.
Can see no signe where such a Castle was:
For at these warres most commonly 'tis seene,
Away the victors carry all things cleane.
It fortunes in these battels now and then
Women are better Souldiers farre then men:
Such sweet mouth'd fights as these doe often fall
After a Christning, or a Funerall.
Thus Hempe the Comfit-makers doth supply,
From them that newly liue, and newly dye.
If the blacke Indians or Newcastle co [...]les
Came not in Fleets, like fishes in the sholes,
The rich in gownes and rugs themselues might sold,
But thousands of the poore might statue with cold.
The commodities of these blacke indi [...]s are worth more white money to vs, then eyther the East or West Ind [...]es [...] be profitable.
Smiths, Brewers, Diers, all estates that liues,
This little seed seruice or comfort giues.
For why, our Kingdome could not serue our turne,
For Londons vse, with wood uen yeares to burne:
And which way then could coales supply our need,
But by th' Almightie [...] bounty and this seed?
You braue Neptunians, you salt water crew,
Sea-plowing Marriners; I speake to you:
From Hemp you for your selues and others gaine
Your Sp [...]it sayle, fore-sayle, top-sayle, & your maine,
Top, and top-gallant, and your mizz [...]n abaft,
Your coursers, bonnets, drablers, sore and aft,
The sheats, tacks, boliens, braces, halliars, tyes,
Shrowds, tatlings, lanyards tackles, lists, and guies,
Your martlines, ropeyarnes, gaskets, and your stayes,
These for your vse, small Hemp-seed vp doth raise:
The boirope, boatrope, guest [...]rope, catrope, portrope
The bucket rope, the boat-rope, long or short rope,
The entering-rope, the top rope (and the rest
Which you that are acquainted with know best:
The lines to sound in what depth you slide,
Cables and hausers, by which ships doe ride:
All these, and many moe then I can name,
From this small seed, good industry doth frame.
Ships. Barks, Hoyes, Drumlers, Craires, Boats, all would sink,
But for the Ocum [...]aulk'd in euery chink.
Th'vnmatched Loadstone, and best figur'd Maps
Might shew where foraine Countries are (perhaps)
[Page 65]The Compasse (being rightly toucht) will show
The thirty two points where the winds do blow;
Men with the Iacobs staffe, and Astrolobe
May take the height and circuit of the Glo [...]e:
And sundry Art like instruments looke cleare
In what Horizon, or what Hemisphere
Men sayle in through the raging ruthlesse deepe,
And to what coast, such and such course to keepe;
Guessing by th'Artike, or Antartike starre,
Climates and countries being ne're so farre.
But what can these things be of price or worth
To know degrees, heights, depths, East. W.S. North
What are all these but shadowes, and vaine hopes,
If ships doe eyther want their Sailes or Ropes?
And now ere I offend, I must confesse
A little from my theame I will digresse;
Striuing in verse to shew a liuely forme
Of an impetuous gast, or deadly storme.
Where vncontrouled Hyperborean blasts
Teares all to tatters, Tacklings, Sailes, and Masts;
Where boy [...]erous puffes of Eurus breath did hiz
And mongst our shrouds and cordage wildely whiz;
Where thundering Ioue amidst his lightening flashing
Seem'douerwhelm'd with Neptunes mountaine da­shing
Where glorious Titan hath his burning light,
Turning his bright Meridian to blacke night:
Where blustring Eole blew confounding breath,
And thonders fearefull larum threatned death,
Where Skyes, and Seas, Haile, Wind, and slauering Sleet
As if they all at once had meant to meet
In fatall opposition, to expire
The world, and vnto Chaos backe retire.
Thus whilst the Winds and Seas contending gods,
In rough robustious fury are at ods,
The beaten ship tost like a forcelesse feather,
Now vp, now downe, & no man knowing whither:
The Topmast some time tilting at the Moone,
And being vp doth fall againe as soone,
With such precipitating low descent,
As if to hels blacke Kingdome downe she went.
Poore ship that rudder. or no steerage feeles,
Sober, yet worse then any Drunkard reeles,
Vnmanag'd guidlesse, too and fro she wallowes,
Which (seemingly) the angry billowes swallowes.
A storme.
Midst darkenesse, lightning, thunder, sleet, and raine,
Remorcelesse winds and, mercy wanting Maine,
Amazement, horror, dread from each mans face
Hid chas'd away liues bloud, and in the place
Was sad despaire, with haire heau'd vp vpright
With ashy visage, and with sad affright,
As if grim Death with his all-murdering dart,
Had ayming beene at each mans bloudlesse heart,
One tryes the Master, lower the top-saile, lower,
Then vp aloft runs scambling three or foure,
But yet for all their hurly [...] urly hast,
E're they got vp, downe tumbles Saile and Mast.
Veere the maine sheat there, then the Master cride,
Let rise the fore tack, on the Latboord side:
Take in the sore-sayle, yare, good fellowes, yare,
Aluffe at helme there, ware no more, beware.
Steere South, South East there [...]I say ware, no more,
We are in danger of the Leeward shore,
Cleere your maine brace, let got the bol [...] in there,
Port, port, the helme hard, Rumer come no neere.
Sound, sound, heaue, heaue the lead, what depth, what depth?
Fadom and a halfe, three all,
Then with a whisse, the winds againe doe puffe,
And then the Master cries aluffe, aluffe,
Make ready th'anker, ready th'anker hoe,
Cleere, cleere the boighrope, steddy, well steer'd, so;
Hale vp the boat, in Sprit-sayle there afore,
Blow winde and burst, and then thou wilt giue o're,
Aluffe, clap helme a lec, yea, yea, done, done,
Downe, downe alow, into the hold, quicke runne.
There's planck sprung, somthing in hold did break.
Pump bullies, Carpenters, quicke stop the leake.
Once heaue the lead againe, and sound abafte,
A shafnet lesse, seuen all.
Let fall the Ancker there, let fall,
Man man the boat, a woat hale, vp hale,
Top yet maine yard, a port, veere cable alow,
Ge way a head the boat there hoe, dee row,
Well pumpt my hearts of gold, who sayes amends
East and by South, West and by North she wends.
This was a weather with a witnesse here,
But now we see the skyes begin to cleare,
To dinner hey, and lets at ancker ride.
Till winds grow gentler, and a smoother tide.
I thinke I haue spoken Heathen. Greeke, Vtopian, or Ber­mudian, to a great many of my readers, in the descrip­tion of this storme, but indeed I wrote it onely for the vnderstanding Mariners reading. I did it three yeares since, and could not finde a fitter place then this to insert it, or else it must haue laine in silence. But to proceed to my former theame of Hemp-seed.
The Shoe-maker and Cobler with their Ends
One alwayes makes, and t'other euer mends:
Take away Hemp, the sole and vpper leather
I know could neuer well be sow'd together.
And for the Cobler it appeareth plaine
That hee's the better workman of the twaine,
For though a Shoomaker in art excell,
And makes his shoes and boots neuer so well:
Yet euermore it is the Coblers trade
To mend the worke the Shoomaker hath made.
The Character of a Cobler.
The Cobler (like a Iustice takes) delight
To set men that doe walke aside, vpright,
[Page 66]And though he looke blacke as he carried coles,
He daily mendeth desperate wicked soles:
Though Crownes and Angels may perhaps be scant,
Yet store of peeces he doth neuer want:
And let his woke be ended well or ill,
Here's his true honour, he is mending still.
And this his life and occupation is,
And thus he may thanke Hempseed for all this.
For Hempseed if men rightly vnderstand,
Is knowne the greatest Iustice in a Land:
How could men trauaile safely, here and there,
If Hempseed did not keepe a Theefe in feare;
No man within his house could liue or rest
For villuines, that would pilfer and molest,
And breakedowne walls, and rifle chests and truncks
To maintaine drinking, dicing, Knaues and Punks:
That many a one that's wealthy ouer night,
Would t're the breake of day bebegger'd quite:
Worth thousands lately, now not worth a groat,
And hardly scapes the cutting of his throat.
No doubt but many a man doth liue and thriue,
Which but (for Hemp-seed) would not be aliue;
And many a wife and Virgin doth escape
A rude deflouring, and a barbarous rape:
Because the halter in their minds doe run,
By whom these damned deeds would else be done.
It is a bulwarke to defend a Prince.
It is a Subiects armour and defence:
No Poniard, Pistoll, Halbert, Pike, or Sword
Can such defensiue or sure guard afford.
There's many a Rascall that would rob, purloine,
Pick pockets, and cut purses, clip and coine,
Doe any thing, or all things that are ill,
If Hempseed did not curbe his wicked will.
'Tis not the breath or letter of the Law
That could keepe Theeues rebellious wils in awe;
For they (to saue their liues) can vse perswasions.
Tricks, sleights, repriues, and many strange euasions.
But tricke, repriue, or sleight nor any thing
Could euer goe beyond a Hempen string.
This is Lawes period, this at first was made
To be sharpe Iustice executing blade.
This string the Hangman monthly keepes in tune,
More then the Cuckoes song in May or Iune,
It doth his wardrobe, coine and stocke vproare,
In euery moneth and quarter of the yeare.
Yet there hath beene two or three Sessions, wherein none hath beene execused; by which meanes he is in danger of breaking, or bankeruptisiue; for the Hangmans trade is maintained by Iu­stice, and not by mercy.
Besides it is an easie thing to proue,
It is a soueraigne remedie for loue:
As thus, suppose your thoughts at hourely strife
Halfe mad, and almost weary of your life,
All for the loue of some faire female creature,
And that you are entangled with his feature,
That you are sad, and glad, and mad and tame,
Seeming to burne in frost, and freeze in flame,
In one breath, sighing, singing, laughing, weeping,
Dreame as you walke, and waking in your sleeping,
Accounting houres for yeares, and moneths for ages,
Till you enioy her, that your heart encages,
And she hath sent you answers long before
That her intent is not to be your whore:
And you (for your part) meane vpon your life
Ne're while you liue to take her for your wife,
To end this matter, thus much I assure you,
A Tiburne Hempen-caudell well will cure you.
It can cure Traytors, but I hold it fit
T'apply't ere they the treason doe commit:
Wherefore in Sparta it yeleped was,
Snickup, which is in English Gallow-grasse.
The names that diuers Nations did attribute to Hemp-seed.
The Libians call'd it Reeua, which implies
It makes them dye like birds a twixt earth and skyes,
The name of Choak-wort is to it assign'd,
Because it stops the venom of the mind.
Some call it Neck-weed, for it hath a tricke
To cure the necke that's troubled with the crick,
For my part all's one, call it what you please,
'Tis soueraigne 'gainst each Common-wealth disease,
And I doe wish that it may cure all those
That are my Soueraignes and my Countries foes.
And further, I would haue them search [...]d and seene
With care and skill when as their wounds be green,
For if they doe to a Gangrena runne,
There's little good by Hempseed can be done;
For could I know mens hearts, I hold it reason
To hang a Traytor in his thought of treason:
For if his thought doe grow vnto an act
It helpes not much to hang him for the fact.
But that example may a terror strike
To others, that would else attempt the like.
To end this point of Hempseed, thus in briefe
It helps a truemanl, and it hangs a Theefe.
Rates, Imposts, Customes of the Custome-house
Would at the best rate scarce be worth a Louse:
Goods in and our, which dayly ships doe fraight,
By guesse, by tale, by measure and by weight,
Which yearely to such mighty summes amount,
In number numberlesse: or part account:
Were't not for Hempseed, it doth plaine appeare
These profits would not be a groat a yeare.
The names of many braue discouerers: Sir Richard Gr [...] ­ [...]ile, Charles Earle of Nottingham, Henry Earle of South [...]
Columbus, Cortois, Magellan, and Drake,
Did with this seed their great discoueries make,
Braue Hawkins, Baskeruile, Cauendish, Fenner, Best.
Smith, Sherley, Rawleigh, Newport, and the rest,
[Page 68]Web, Towerson, Willoughby, Sir Thomas Roe,
The Lord'la Ware, Frobusher, many moe.
Nubols and, Malum, Rolph, and Midleton,
And Sir Iames Lancaster, and Withringheton.
And all the worthy things that these men did
Without this seed had bin vndone, and hid,
[...]me ne're had trumpetted their noble fames
And quite forgotten were their acts and names.
The worlds seuen wonders, we [...] not for this grain
In poore remembrance, or forgot had laine.
The wals of Babel, sixty miles about,
Two hundred foote in height, thick fifty foot:
Which Queene Samiramis is state did reare,
Imployed three hundred thousand men ten yeare.
Nor the great Image that at Rooles was made
Whose mettall did nine hundred Camels lsde.
The Pyramides of AEgypt, so renownd
At th' [...]oat in compasse forty acres ground:
The which in making twenty yeares did then
Imploy worke thirty sixs thousand men.
The Toomb of Mausull, king of Carea
Built by his Queene, (kind Artimisia)
So wondrous made by art and workemanship
That skill of man could neuer it outstrip;
'Twas long in building, and it doth appeare
The charges of it full two millions were.
Dianaes Temple built at Epbesus
Had bin vnheard of, vnknowne to vs,
Which was two hundred twenty yeares in building
With marble pillars and most sumptuous guilding.
The Image of Olimpique Iupiter,
Had from Achay [...] not beene fam'd so farre,
Not Pharoes Watch towre w ch the world renownes
Which cost 400. fourescore thousand crownes.
Thus Without Hemp-seed we had neuer knowne
These things, nor could they to the world be shown.
O famous Coriat, hadst thou come againe
Thou wouldst haue told vs newes, direct and plaine,
Of Tygers, Elephants, and Antelops
And thousand other things as thicke as hops,
Of men with Iong tailes, faced like to hounds,
Of oysters, one whose fish weign'd forty pounds,
Of spiders greater then a walnut shell
Of the Rhinoceros thou wouldst vs tell,
Of horses tane with hawkes, of beares of buls,
Of men with eares a span long, and of guls,
As great as Swans, and of a bird call'd Ziz
Whose egge will drown'd some there score villages,
Of cranes, And pigmies, lizzards, buzzards, owles,
Of swine with hornes, of thousand beasts and soules,
All these and more then I to minde can call
Thou wouldst haue told vs, and touch more then all,
But that our expectations were preuented,
By death, which makes thy friends much discontented.
But farewell Thomas, neuer to returne.
Rest thou in peace within thy forraigne Vine,
Hempseed did beare thee o're the raging some
And O I wish that it had brought thee home,
For if thou had't come backe, as I did hope,
They fellow had not beene beneath the Cope.
But we must loose that which we cannot saue.
And freely leaue thee whom we cannot haue.
I thinke it best to sow all our Land with it euery third yeare, for now ou [...] bread and drinke corne growing out of the excre­ments of beasts, makes vs to participate of thn beastly natures, as when barly growes where [...] haue dungd, those that drinke the ale or beere made of that malt, are many times as beastly as swing, and as drunke as hogs.
Moreouer, Hempseed hath this vertue rare
In making bad ground good, good corne to beare,
It fats the earth, and makes it to excell
No dung, or marle, or mucke can do't so well:
For in that Land which beares this happy seed
In three yeares after it no dung will need,
But sow that ground with barley, wheat, or rye
And still it will encrease aboundantly;
Besides, this much I of my knowledge know
That where Hemp growes, no stinking weed can grow,
No cockle, darnell, henbane, tare or nettle
Neere where it is can prosper, spring, or settle,
For such antipathy is in this seed,
Against each fruitlesse vnderseruing weed,
That it with feare and terror strikes them dead,
Or makes them that they dare not shew their head.
And as growing it all weeds doth kill
So being growne, it keepes it nature still,
For good mens vses, serues, & still releiues
And yeelds good whips and ropes for rogues and theeues.
I could rehearse of trades a number more
Which but for Hempseed quickly would grow poore;
As Sadlers for their elks haire to stuffe their sadles,
And girses, and a thousand fidle fadles;
But that Ile put my Reader out of doubts,
What a rich thing it is being worne to clouts:
For now how it to Paper doth conuert
My poore vnable Mule shall next insert.
And therefore noble and ignoble men
Iudge gently of the progresse of my pen,
In forma pauperis, poore men may sue,
And I in forme of paper speake to you.
But paper now's the subiect of my booke,
And from whence paper its beginning tooks:
How that from little Hemp and flaxen seeds,
Ropes, halters, drapery, and our napery breeds,
And from these things by art and true endeauour,
All paper is deriued, whatsoeuer.
For when I thinke but how is paper made
Into Phylosophy I straight wayes wade:
How here, and there, and euery where lyes scatter'd,
Old ruin'd rotten rags, and ropes all tatter'd.
And some of these poore things perhaps hath beene
The linnen of some Countesse or some Queene,
[Page 70]Yet lyes now on the dunghill, bare and poore
Mix'd with the rags of some baud, theefe, or whore.
And as these thing [...] haue beene in better states
Adorning bodies of great Potentates,
And lyes cast off despised, scorn'd, deiected,
Trod vnder foot, contemn'd and vnrespected,
By this our vnderstandings may haue seeing
That earthly honour hath no certaine beeing.
For who can tell from whence these tatters springs?
May not the torne shirt of a Lords or Kings
Be pasht and beaten in the Paper mill
And made Pot-paper by the workemans skill?
May not the linnen of a Tyburne sl [...]ue,
More honour then a mighty Monarch haue:
That though he dyed a Traitor most difloyall
His shirt may be transform'd to Paper-royall?
And may not dirty socks from of the feet
Form thence be turn'd to a Crowne-paper sheet?
And dunghill rags, by fauour, and by hap,
May be aduanc'd aloft to sheets of cap?
As by desert, by fauour and by chance
Honour may fall, and begg'ry may aduance,
Thus are these tatters allegoricall
Tropes, types, and figures, of mans rise or fall.
Thus may the reliques of sincere Diuines
Be made the ground-worke of las [...]iuious lines,
And the cast smocke that chast Lucretia wore
Beare baudy lines betwixt a knaue and whore.
Thus may a Brownists zealous ruffe in print
Be turn'd to Paper, and a play writ in't.
Or verses of a May pole, or at last
Iniunctions for some stomacke hating Fast.
And truely 'twere prophane and great abuse,
To turne the brethrene linnen to such vse,
As to make Paper on't to beare a song,
Or Print the Superstitious Latine tongue,
Apocrypha, or Ember-weekes, or Leus,
No holy brother surely will consent
To such ldolatry, his spirit and zeale
Will rather trouble Church, and common-weale.
He hates the Fathers workes, and had much rather
To be a bastard, then to haue a Father.
His owne interpretation he'll affoord
According to the letter of the word,
Tropes, Allegories, Types, similitudes,
Or Figures, that some my sticke sense includes.
His humour can the meaning so vnfold,
In other fashions then the Fathers could:
For he (dogmatically) doth know more
Then all the learned Docters knew before.
All reueread Ceremonies he'l oppose,
He can make an Organ of his nose,
And spin his speech with such sincerity,
As if his bridge were falne in verity.
The Cope and Surplesse he cannot abide,
Against the corner-Cap he outhach cride,
And calls them weeds of Superstition,
And liueries of the whore of Babylon.
The Crosses blessing he esteemes a curse,
The Ring in marriage, out vpon't 'tis worse.
And for his kneeling at the Sacrament,
In sooth he'le rather suffer banishment,
And goe to A [...]erdamd, and liue and dye
E're he'l commit so much ldolatry.
He takes it for an outward Seale or Signe,
A little consecrated bread and wine,
And though it from his blessed Saulour come
His manners takes it fitting on his bum,
The spirit still directs him how to pray,
Nor will he dresse his meat the Sabbath day,
Which doth a mighty mysterie vnfold,
His zeale is hot, although his meat be cold,
Suppose his Cat on Sunday kill a Rat,
She on the Munday must behang'd for that.
His faith keepes a continuall Holy day,
Himselfe doth labour to keepe it at play:
For he is read and deeply vnderstood
That if his faith should worke 'twould doe no good,
A fine cleane fingerd faith must saue alone,
Good workes are needlesse, therefore ho'l do none,
Yet patience doth his spirit so much inspire,
He'l not correct a Seruant in his ire,
But when the spirit his hot furie layes.
Hee congregates his folkes, and thus he sayes;
Attend good Nichodemus, and Tobi [...],
List to your reuerend Master Ananias,
And good Aminadab, I pray attend,
Here's my man I smael highly did offend;
He told a lye, I heard his tongue to trip,
For which most surely he shall tast the whip.
Then after some sententious learned speech,
The seruant humbly doth let fall his breech,
Mounts on his fellowes backe as on a Mule,
Whilst his pure Maister mounts his rod of rule.
The boy in lying with his tongue did faile,
And thus he answers for it with his taile.
O Vpright, Sincere, Holy execution,
Most patient, vnpolluted absolution.
Shall Paper made of linnen of these men,
Be stain'd with an vnsanctified pen?
In sooth who ere doth so, be [...]'t he or she,
They little better then the wicked be,
Children of Sathan and abhomination,
The brood of Belials cursed congregation,
The bastard off spring of the purple where,
Who doe the Babylonish Beast adore.
From the Creation to the generall Fleed,
The name of Paper no man vnderstood:
But by tradition still from Sire to Son,
Men liuing knew the deeds by dead men dont,
Yet many things were in the Deluge san'd
In stony Pillars charactered and grau'd
[Page 71]For the most part antlquity agrees,
Long since the floud men writ in barkes of trees:
Which was obseru'd late in America,
When Spanish Cortois conquered Mexica.
Then after in Fig-leaues and Sicamour,
Men did Characters their minds explore.
[...] when it is worne to Rags, it is made into Paper.
Long after, as ingenuous spirits taught,
Rags and old Ropes were to perfection wrought
Into quare formes yet how to giue a name
Vnto their workemanship they could not frame.

The Originall of Paper.

Some Authors doe the name of Paper gather,
To be de [...]iu'd from Papa, or a Father.
Because a learned man of Arrius sect
Did Christendome with heresie infect:
And being grear errors much mistooke,
Writ and divulged in a Paper booke.
And therefore Nimphs [...]ag thus much doth inferre,
The name of Paper sprung from Papaerr.
Some bold the name doth from a Rush proceed,
Which on Egiptian Nilus bankes doth breed:
Which rush is call'd Paptr us for on it
Th' Egiptian people ofteneimes had writ.
And some againe of lesse authoritie
Because it's made of rags and pouerty,
In stead of Paper name it Pa [...]peris,
Be sure thinkes they take their markes amisse,
For foure and twenty sheets doe make a Quire,
And twenty Quire doth to a Reame aspire,
And euery Reame were kingdomes for their strength
[...] that they want a single (1) in length.
A Reame of Paper therefore keepes great port,
And were a Realme, wer' [...] not an (1) too short.
Besides, we haue an old Progu [...]icater,
An erring Father, quast arta Pater.
[...] euerlasting Almanack tels plaine,
How many miles from hence to Charles his waine.
From [...] vnto Mercury how farre
To venus, Sol and Mars that warlike st [...]rre:
From Mars to merry thunder-thumping Iea [...]:
And thence to fullen Saturns highest aboue:
This if I lye not, with advice and leasure,
Old Erra Pater to an inch did measure,
But hollow, Muse what mounted to the sky,
I'le clip your soaring plumes for you and I
Must talke of Paper, Hemp, and such as this,
And what a rich commodity it is.

It was time to remember my selfe, for I was a degree too high.

The best is I haue elbow roome to trace,
I am not tide to times, to bounds, or place,
But Europe, Asia, Sun-burnt Affrica,
America, Terra [...],
The Christians, Heathens, Pagans, Turkes & Iewes.
And all the world yeelds matter to my Muse:
No Empire, Kingdome, Region, Prouince, Nation.
No principality, Shire, nor Corporation:
No Country, County, City, Hamlet, Towne,
But must vse Paper, eyther white or browne.
No Metropolitane, or gracious Primate
No Village, Pallace, Cottage, function, Climate,
No age, sex, or degree the earth doth beare,
But they must vse this seed to write or weare.
How it Propagates the Gospell.
This Paper (being printed) doth reueale
Th'Eternall Testament of all our Weale:
In Paper is recorded the Records
Of the Great all-Creating Lord of Lords.
Vpon this weake ground strongly is ingrau'd
The meanes how man was made, and lost and sau'd,
Bookes Patriarchall, and Propheticall,
Historicall, or Heauenly Mysticall,
Euangelicall, and Apostolicall,
Writ in the sacred Text, in generall.

The sacred memory of Patriarchs, Prophets, Euangeiists,-A­postles, and Fathers.

Much hath the Church (our Mother propagated)
By venerable Fathers workes translated
Saint Ierome, Gregoris, Ambrose, Augustius,
Saint Basil, Bernard, Cyprian, Constantive:
Eusebius, Epipleanssu, Origen.
Ignatius and La ctantius (reuerend men)
Good Luther, Caluine, learned Zwinglius,
Melancton, Beza Oecolampadius,
These, and a world more then I can recite
Their labours would haue slept in endlesse night,
But that in Paper they preseru'd haue bin
T'instruct vs how to shun death hell, and sin.

[Page 72]The memoriall of Monarchies and Wonders with their altera­tions from time to time, and chiefly by Paper.

How should we know the change of Monarchies.
Th'Assyrian, and the Persian Emperies,
Great Alexanders large, small lasting glory
Or Romes High Casars often changing story?
How should Chronologies of Kings be knowne
Of eyther other Countries, or our owne?

Phylosophers, Hystorians, Chronographers, Poets ancient and moderne, the best fo [...] mentioned.

But that Iosephus and Sueronius
Possedore, Virgil, and Or [...]lius,
Seneca, and Cornelins Tacitus
With Sca [...]ger, and Quintus Curticus;
Piutarch, Guichiardiue, Gallobelgicus
Thomasio, and Hector Boetius;
Fox, Cooper, Froysard, Grafton Fabia [...],
Hall, Houe den Lanquit, Sleiden, Buchanan,
The Reuerend learned Cambden, Selaen, Stowe,
With Polychronicon, and Speed, and Howe,
With Parris, Mal [...]bury, and many more
Whose Workes in Paper are yet extant store.
Philemon Holland (famous for translation)
Hath (with our owne tongue) well inricht our Na­tion.
Esope, and Aristotle, Plinse, Plato.
Pythagoras, and Cicero, and Cato,
Du Bartas, Ariost [...], Martial, Tasso
Pla [...]us and Homer, Terence, Virgil, Naso,
Franciscus Petrark, Horace, Iu [...]enal,
Philosophers and exc'lent Poets all.
Or Orators Hystorians, euery one
In Paper made their worthy studies knowne.
Who euer went beyond our famous King
Whose [...] [...] throughout the spacious world doth ring;
Such a Diuine, and Poet, that each State
Admires him whom they cannot imitate.
In Paper, many a Poet now suruiues
Or else their lines hed perish'd with their lines.
Old Chaucer, Go [...]er, and Sir Thomas More,
Sir Philip Sidney, who the Lawrell wor [...].
Spencer, and Shakespeare did in Ar [...] excell,
Sir Edward Dy [...]. Gr [...], Naso, Daniel,
Silnester, Be [...], Sir Iohn Harington.
Forgetfulnesse their workes would ouer ru [...],
But that in Paper they immortally
Doe liue in spight of Death, and cannot dye.
And many there are liuing at this day
Which doe in paper their true worth display:
As Dauis, Drayton, and learned D [...].
Iohnson and Chapman, Marston, Midd [...]ton,
With Rowley, Fletcher, Withers, Massinger,
Heywood, and all the rest where e're they are,
Must say their lines but for the paper sheete
Had scarcely ground, whereon to set their feete.
Acts, Statutes, Lawes would be consum'd and last
All right and order topsy- [...]uy tost:
Oppression, wrong, destruction and confusion
Wer't not for Paper, were the worlds conclusion.
Negotiation, and Embassages
Maps Chartes, discoueries of strange passages:
Leagues, truces, combinations, and contracts,
Ecelefiasticke monuments and acts,
Lawes, Nat'rall, Morall, Ciuill and Diuine,
T'instruct, reproue, correct, inlarge, confine.
All Memorandums of forepassed ages,
Sayings and sentences of ancient Sages,
Astronomy, and Phisicke much renownd,
The lib'rall Arts, rules, maxicmes, or ground,
The glory of Apolloes Radient shine,
Supporter of the Sacred Sisters Nine,
The Atlas, that all Histories doth beare
Throughout the world, here, there, and euery where.
How many line byst being Paper.
All this and more is paper, and all this,
From fruitfull Hempseea still produced is.
Were't not for rags of this admired Lint,
Dead were the admirable Art of Print.
Nor could the Printers with their formes & proofes.
Worke for their owne and other mens be [...]oofe [...],
Octano, Quarto, Folie or sixteene:
Twelues, nor yet sixty foure had ere beene seene,
Nor could thier Pages be the meanes to feed
And cloth them and their families at need.
The Stationer that liues, and gaineth well,
And doth the word of God, both buy and sell,
I know not which way he could liue and eate,
It printed paper did not yeeld him meat.
[Page 73]Some foolish knaue (I thinke) at first began
The [...]der that three Taylers are one man:
When many a Taylers boy, I know hath beene,
[...] made tall men much fearefull to be seene,
The boy hath had no weapon, nor no skill,
[...] armed with a Taylers Paper-bill,
Which being edgd with Items, stiffnings facings,
With Bumbast, cottons, linenings, and with laccings,
The boy hath made a man his head to hide
And not the bare sight of the Bill abide.
When boyes with paper Bils frights men so sore,
[...]is doubtlesse but their Masters can doe more.
And many millions both of boyes and men,
[...] onely liue, and flourish with the pen:
Yet though the pen be through the world renown'd
[...]were nothing except paper were the ground.
All Lawyers from the high'st degree or marke.
Vnto the lowest Barrester or Clarke,
How could they doe if paper did not beare
The memory of what they speake or heare?
And justice Clarkes could hardly make strong war­rants.
For Theeues, or Baudes, or whores, or such like ar­rants,
[...] that in Paper 'tis their onely vse
To write, and right the Common-wealths abuse.
Thus much of Paper here my Muse hath said,
[...] yet if all its profits were displaid,
[...]en paper Mils could not affoord enough
To write vpon in praise of writing stuffs:.
A Uoyage in a Paper-boat from London to Quinborough.
I therefore to conclude this much will note
How I of Paper lately made a Boat,
And how in forme of Paper I did row
From London vnto Quinborough lle show,
I and a Vintner ( Roger Bird by name)
(A man whom Fortune neuer yet could tame)
Tooke ship vpon the vigill of Saint Iames
And boldly ventur'd downe the Riuer Thames,
Leiuing and cutting through each raging billow,
(In such a Boat which neuer had a fellow)
Hauing no kinde of mettall or no wood
To helpe vs eyther in our Ebbe or Flood:
For as out boat was paper, so our Oares
Were Stock-fish, caught neere to the Island shores.

Stock-fishes vnbeaten, bound fast to two Canes with pack­thread.

Thus being Oar'd and shipt away we went.
Driving 'twixt Effex Calues, and sheepe of Kent:
Our Boat a female vessell gan to leake
Being as female vessels are, most weake,
Yet was shee able which did greeue me sore,
To downe Hodge Bird and I and forty more.
The water to the Paper being g [...]t,
In one halfe houre our boat began to rot:
The Thames (most lib'rall) fild her to the halues,
Whil [...]t Hodge and I sate liquor'd to the calues.
In which extremity I thought it fit
To put in vso a [...]ratagem of wit,
Which was, eight. Bullocks bladders we had bought
Pust stifly full with wind, bound fast and tought,
Which on our Boat within the Tide we ty'de,
Of each side foure, vpon the outward side.
The water still role higher by degrees.
In three miles going, almost to our knees,
Our rotten bottome ali to tatters fell,
And left our boat as bottomlesse as Hell.
And had not bladders horne vs stifly vp,
We there had tasted of deaths fatall cup.
And now (to make some sport) Ile make it knowne
By whose strong breath my bladders all were blown.
One by a ch [...]uerell conscienc'd Vsurer,
Another by a drunken Bag piper,
The third a Whore, the fourth a Pander blew,
The fist a Cutpurse, of the Cursed crew,
The sixt, apost-knight that for fiue groats gaine
Would sweare & for foure groats forsweare't agine,
The seauenth was an Informer, one that can
By informations begger any man.
The eight was blowne vp by a swearing Royster,
That would cut throats as soone as eate an Oyster.

We had more winds then the Compasse, for we had eight seue­rall winds in our bladders, and the 32 of the Compasse in all 40.

We being in our watry businesse bound,
And with these wicked winds encompass'd round,
For why such breaths as those it fortunes euer,
They end with hanging, but with drowning neuer:
And sure the bladders bore vs vp so tight,
As if they had said, Gallowes claime thy right.
This was the cause that made vs seeke about,
To finde these light Tiburnian vapoursour.
We could haue had of honest men good store,
As Watermen, and Smiths, and many more,
But that we knew it must be hanging breath,
That must preserue vs from a drowning death.

Carefully and discreetly prouided.

Yet much we fear'd the graues our end would be
Before we could the Towne of Grauesand see:
Our boat drunke deepely with her dropsie thirst;
And quast as if she would her bladders burst,
[Page 74]Whilst we within sixe inches of the brim
(Full of salt water) downe (halfe sunck) did swim.
Thousands of people all the shores did hide,
And thousands more did meet vs in the tide
With Sc [...]crs, Oares, with ship boats, & with Bar­ges
To gaze on vs, they put themselue, to charges.
Thus did we driue, and driue the time away,
Till pitchy night had driuen away the day:
The Sun vnto the vnder world was fled:
The Moone was loath to rise, and kept her bed,
The Stanes did [...]winckele, but the Ebon clouds
Their light, our fight, obseures ouer shrowds.
The tosling billowes made our boat to caper.
Out paper forme scarce being forme of paper,
The water foure mile broad, no Oares, to row,
Night darke, and where we were we did not know.
And thus 'twixt doubt and feare, hope and despaire
I sell to worke, and Roger Bird to prayer.
And as the surges vp and downe did heaue vs,
He cry'dmost feruently, good Lord receiue vs.
I pray'd as much, but I did worke and pray,
And he did all he could to pray and play.
Thus three houres darkeling I did puzz [...]ll and toile
Sows'd and well pickl'd chafe and muzzell & moile,
Dernch'd with the swaffing waues, & stew'd [...] sweat
Scarce able with a cane our boat to set,
At last (by Gods great mercy and his might)
The morning gan to chase away the night.
Aurora made vs soone perceiue and see
We were three miles below the Towne of Lee.
And as the morning more end more did cleare,
The fight of Quinborogh castle did appeare.
That was the famous monumentall marke,
To which we striu'd obring our rotten barke:
The onely ayme of our intents and scope.
The anker that brought Roger to the Hope.

He dwelleth now at the Hope on the Banck-side.

Thus we from Saturday at euening Tide,
Till Monday mor [...]e, did on the water bide,
In rotten paper and in boy sterous weather,
Darke nights, through wet, and toyled altogether.
But being come to Quinborough and aland,
I tooke my fellow koger by the hand,
And both of vs ere we two steps did goe
Gaue thankes to God that had preseru'd vs so:
Confessing that his mercy vs protected
When as we least deseru'd, and lesse expected
The Maior of Quinborough in loue affords
To entertaine vs, as we had beene Lords;
It is a yearely feast kept by the Maior,
And thousand people th [...]her doth repaire,
From Townes and Villages that's neer [...] about,
And twas our luck to come in all this roue.
I'th'street, Bread, Beere, and Oysters is their meat,
Which freely, friendly, shot-froe all doe eat,
But Hodge and I were men of ranck and note,
We to the Maior gaue our aduenturous boat;
The which (to glorifie that Towne of Kent)
He meant to hang vp for a monument.
He to his house inuited vs to dine,
Where we had cheare on cheare, and wine on wine,
And drinke, and fill, and drinke, and drinke and fill,
With welcome vpon welcome, welcome still.
But whilst we at our dinners thus were merry,
The Country people tore our tatter'd wherry
In mammocks pecoemeale in a thousand scraps,
Wearing the reliques in their hats and caps.
That neuer traytors corps could more be scatter'd
By greedy Rauens, then out poore boat was tatter'd;
Which when the Maior did know, he presently
Tooke patient what he could not remedie
The next day we with thankes left Quinbroght coast
And hied vs home on horse-backe all in post.
Thus Master Birds strange voyage was begun,
With greater danger was his mony won.
And those that doe his coine from him detaine
(Which he did win with perill and much paine)
Let them not thinke that e're 'twill doe them good,
But eate their marrow and consume their blood.
The worme of conscience gnaw them euery day
That haue the moanes, and not the will to pay.
Those that are poore, and cannot, let them be
Both from the debt and malediction free.
Thus (I in part) what Himp-seed is haue showne,
Cloth, ropes, rags, paper, poorely is made knowne [...]
How it maintaines each kingdome, starte and trade,
And how in paper we a voyage made.
I therefore to conclude, thinke not amiss [...]
To write something of Thames, or Thamasis,

The names of the most famous riuers in the world.

Maz [...], Rubicon, [...]lue, Volga, Ems, Scamander,
Loyre, Moldous, Tybar, Albia, Scyne, Meander,
Hidaspes, Indus, Iuachus, Tanaies,
(Our Thames true praise is sarre beyond their praise)
Great Euphrates, Jordans, Nilus, Ganges, Poe,
Tagus and Tygris, Thames doth farre out-goe.
Danubia, Ister, Xanthus, Lisus, Rhrine,
Wey, Seuerue, Auon, Medway, Isis, Tin [...],
D [...] Ouze, Trent, Humber, Eske, Tweed, Annan, Tay.
Firth (that braue Demy-ocean) Clide, 'Dun, Spay,
All these are great in sames, and great in names,
But great'st in goodnesse is the riuer Thames,
From whose Diurnall and Nocturnall flood
Millions of soules haue fewell cloathes and food;
Which from twelue houres to twelue doth still suc­ceed,
Hundreds, & thousands both to cloath & feed.
Of watermen, their seruants, children, wiues,
It doth maintaine neere twenty thousand lines.
I can as quickly number all the starres,
As reckon all things in particulars:
[Page 75]Which by the bounty of th' All-giuing giuer
Proceeds from this most matchlesse, famous Riuer.
And therefore' cis great pitty, shelfe or sand
From the forgetfull and ingrate full land,
Should it's cleare chrystall entrailes vilesy,
Or soyle such purenesse with impurity.
What doth it doe, but seruas our full contents,
Brings food, and for it takes our excrements,
Yeelds vs all plenty, worthy of regard
And dirt and mucke we giue it for reward?

Riuers sabled or seigned to be in Hell.

Oh what a world of Poets that excell
Is ar, haue fabled riuers out of hell,
As Erebus, Cocitus, Acheron,
Sur Orchus, Tartarus, and Phlegeton,
And all internall Barathrums Damn'd Creekes,
With Charous Passengers, and fearefull shriekes,
Who writing drinking Lethe to their shames
Vnthankefully they haue forgot the Thames.
But noble Thames, whilest I can hold a pen
I will diuulge thy glory vnto men:
Thou in the morning when my coine is seant
Before the euening dost supply my want.
If like a Bee I seeke to liue and thriue,
Thou wile yeeld hony freely to my hiue,
If like a drone I will not worke for meate,
Thou in discretion giues me nought to eate
Thou the true rules of Iustice dost obserue,
To feed the lab'rer, let the idle sterue,
And I so many faithlesse men haue found
As any man that liues vpon the ground,
Who haue done me wrong and themselues no good,
And swore, and forswore in their damned mood:
Whilst I (fond I) haue lent and giuen away
To such as not so much as thankes will pay,
For shame and modesty I name them not;
But let their black soules beare the impure blot
Of falshood periury, and odious lyes
That diuels in shape of Mankind can deuise,
If these lines happen to their hands to come.
They'l pick their teeth, look downward and cry hum'
But goodnesse how should euer I expect,
From such who doe so true a friend neglect.
And therefore Thames, with thee I haue decreed
Because thou neuer faild me in my need,
To thee, to thee againe I doe retire
And with thee Ile remaine till life expire.

The Oare hath foure or fiue vertues; first, it is healthfull, se­cond, it auoyds bad company, third, it keeps men sober, seur [...]h is gets mony, filt, it anoyds expences all which vertues I will put in practise and fall to rowing.

Thou art my Mistresse, and oft times from thee
Thy liberalitie hath flow'd to me,
And for thou alwayes giuest me meanes to lin [...]
My self (most thankefully) my selfe doe giue,
Momus thou Sonne of Somnus, and of Nox,
Take not my lines all for a Paradox:
For most of them seeme true, and I doe rue
That many of them I doe know too true.
Sleepe Momus sleepe, in Murceas slothfullbed,
Let Morpheus locke thy tongue within thy head:
Or if thou need [...] wilt prate, prate to this end
To giue commends to that thou canst not mend.
'Tis not a guilded Gull made vp with oathes,
That sweares and dams himselfe into good cloathes.
That weares his cloake beneath his skirts and wast
Cause men may see how he is trust and brao'd:
Such a fantasticke a [...]e, I care not for,
He flewts my lines, and I doe him abhor.
My poore inuention no way is supply'd,
With cutting large thong [...] from anothers hide:
I haue not stolne a syllable or letter
From any man, to make my booke seeme better.
But similies, comparisons, each line,
Indifferent, good or bad, they all are mine,
Yet I confesse I haue read many a booke
From whence I haue some obseruations tooke.
Which I make vse of, as occasions touch,
And any Poet (I thinke) will doe as much.
I will not brag, to all men bee it knowne
(By learning) I haue nothing of mine owne,
But had I tongues and languages, like many
Sure I should filch and strale as much as any.
But like an Artlesse Poet, I say still,
I am a Taylor, true against my will.
Thus ending (like to Iasons Golden-fleece)
This worke of Hempsecd is my Master-p [...].
FINIS.

TAYLORS TRAVELS To Hamburgh in Germanie.

DEDICATED To the Cosmographicall, Geographicall describer, Geometricall measurer; Historiographicall Calligraphicall Relater and Writer; Enigmaticall, Pragmaticall, Dogmaticall Obseruer, Ingrosser, Surueyer and Eloquent Brittish Graecian Latinist, or Latine Graecian Orator, the Odcombyan Deambulator, Perombulator, Ambler, Trotter, or untyred Traueller, Sir THO: CORIAT, Knight of Troy, and one of the dearest darlings to the blind Goddesse Fortune.

Most worthy Sir, as Quintillian in his Apothegmes to the naked, learned, Gimnose­phists of AEthiopia, very wittily sayes, Potanto Machayo corbatio monomosco kayturemon Lescus, Ollipufftingere whingo: which is, knowledge is a maine Antithesis to ignorance, and paines and trauaile is the high way to experience. I beeing therefore well acquainted with the generous vrbanity innated or rooted in your humanity, (in these dayes of vanity,) I dedicate out (of my affability, debility, ability, imbecility, facility, or agility,) this poore Pamphlet to your nobility, in all seruility and humility: not doubting but the fluent secundity of your wisedomes, profundity, in your heads retundity, will conserue, reserue, preserue, and obserue, what I and my industrious labours deserue. I doe (out of mine owne congnition) auerre and abett, that he is senselesse that will assent, that the Fates did assigne, with their whole assistance, that any should aspire to bee an associate in any as­sembly, boldly to assimulate, assay, assault, or ascribe to any mortall but your selfe, super latiue maro­rity or transcendency for trauailes, obseruations, and or atorie. These things being reuolued and rumi­nated, in the sagacitie or acutenesse of my Pericranion, I imagined that no man vnder the Cope was more worthy then your selfe to be a Patronizing Poplar to shelter my poore reed-like endeauours. How­soeuer in the preter lapsed occurrences there hath beene an Antagonisticall repugnancy betwixt vs, yet I hope time and trauaile hath worne it thred bare, or brought it to an irrecouerable consumption; with­all I know you are vncapable of inexpugnable malice, inueterate malignancy: or emulation. I protest tongue-tide taciturnity should haue imprisoned this worke in the Lethargicall Dungeon, or bottomlesse Abisse of euer-sleeping obliuion, but that I am confident of your Patronage and acceptance, which if it fall out (no according to any Promerits of mine) but out of mine owne expectation of your matchlesse & vnparalcll dd sposition, I shall hereafter sacrifice whole Hecatombs of inuention both in Prose & Verse, at the shrine of your vnfellowed and vnfollowed vertues. So wishing more to see you then to heare from you, because Writers want worke, and the Presse is turned, voluntary through the scarcity of imploy­ments, which I hope your presence will supply, I pray that Neptnne, AEolus, Tellus, Bacchus, and all the watery, windy, earthly, and drinking Deities may be officious, auspicious, and delicious vnto you, humbly imploring you to take in good part this my sophisticall, paradoxicall, submission, with a mentall reseruation of my loue and seruice, to sympathize or be equiualent to your kinde liking and corrobora­ted affecting.

He that hath a poore muse to trot in your seruice with all obsequious obseruance: IOHN TAYLOR

TAYLORS TRAVELS. Three VVeekes, three Dayes, and three Houres Obseruations, from LONDON to HAMBVRGH in [...] Amongst Iemes and Gentiles, with Descriptions of Townes and Towers, Castles and Cittadels, artificiall G [...]lowies, Naturall Hangmen: And Dedicated for the present, to the absent Odcombian Knight Erra [...]t, S r. THOMAS CORIAT, Great Brittaines Error, and the worlds Mirror.

VPon Saturday the 17. of August, 1616. (after I had taken leaue of some friends that would hardly giue me leaue to leaue them) I was associated with fiue or sixe courteous Com­rades to the Hauen of Billings­gate, where I was no sooner come, but I was shipt to a wherry for the Port of Grauesend, and ha­uing two Women and three Men in my com­pany thither, wee past the way away by telling tiles by turnes. Where one of the women tooke vpon her very Logically to defend the honestie of Brokers, and she maintained her Paradoxicall Arguments so pithily, as if her selfe like a despe­rate pawne had layn: seauen yeares in Lauender on sweeting in long Lane, or amongst the dog­ged inhabitants of Houndsditch. And one of the men replyed that he thanked God hee neuer had any need of them; whereupon I began to sus­pect him to bee a crafty knaue, because the pro­uerbe laies, A crafty knaue needs no broker, and in­deed after I had inquired what countriman hee was he told me he was a Welch man, and a Iu­stices Clarke. I left him as I sound him, hoping neuer to be troubled with his binding ouer, and withdrawing: and so landing at Graues end, we all went to the Christopher where wee tooke a Ba­chanalian farewell one of another, where I remai­ned till the Munday following, awayting the comming down of the ship that I was to be tran­sported in. About the houre of three in the after­noone, with good hope we weighed Anchor, and with a curteous tide and a gentle winde we sai­led downe the riuer of Thames,. as sarre as the grand Oyster hauen of Quinborough, where though our ship was not Sea-sicke, yet shee cast, (Anchor I meane.)

On the morrow, being Tuesday, we weighed, and with the friendly breath of Zephirus, aliâs a Westerne wind, our sailes being swolne, our ship called the Iudith, who with her sterne cut the liquid mounting mountaines of Neptunes wauering territories, as nimbly as Hebrew Iudith b [...]headed Holosernes, so that by the bountifull fa­uour of him that rules both Windes and Seas, the Thursday following wecespied the coast of Freezeland, and the next day wee sailed by an I­land [Page 78] called the Holy Land, which may be called the Land of Lobsters, or the Countrie of Crabs for the plenty of those kind of crawling creatures that are taken there. But we, taking time by the fore-top, let no aduantage slip, but with a merry Gale, and a friendly floud, on the Friday wee sailed vp the Riuer of Elue, as far as Stoad, where we Anchoured till the morrow, being Saturday, and the feast of S. Bartholmew the Apostle, wee arriued at a bleake alias, a towne an English mile from Hamburgh, called Altonagh, which is so called by the Hamburgers because it stands all­coo-nigh them for their profit, being inhabited with diuers tradesmen which doe hinder their freedome. I was no sooner landed there, but my company and my selfe went to a Dutch drin­king-schoole, and hauing vpsefreez'd foure pots of boone beere as yellow as gold, our host said we had foure shilling to betall, or to pay, which made me suspect it to bee a bawdy house by his large reckoning, till at last I vnderstood that the shillings he meant were but stiuers, or three halfe pence a peeco. So this terrible shot being dis­charged (which in the totall amounted to the sum of sixepence English) we departed towards Hamburgh, where by the way I noted some 20. men, women, and children in diuers places of Altonagh, all deformed, some with one eye, some with hare-lips, crooke-backt, splay-footed, halfe­nosed, or one blemish or other. I admiring at them, was told they were Iewes, wherein I per­ceiued the Iudgement of the high Iudge of all, that had permitted Nature to desorme their formes, whose Gracelesse mindes were so much mishapen through want of Grace.

But I being entered the Citie of Hamburgh on the Sarurday, I was presently conducted to the English house, where I found a kind Host, an honest Hostesse, good company, store of meat, more of drink [...], a true Tapster, and sweet Lod­ging. And being at dinner, because I was a stranger, I was promoted to the chiesest place at the Table, where to obserue an old custome, euery man did his best endeauour to hauns mee for my welcome, which by interpretation is, to giue a man a loafe too much out of the Brewers braket; in which kind of potshot, our English are growne such stout Proficients, that some of them dares bandy and contend with the Dutch their first teachers. But after they had hanced me as well as they could, and I pleas'd, they admini­stred an oath to me, in manner and forme as fol­loweth; ‘Laying my hand on a full pot.’

I sweare by these contents and all that is here­in contained, that by the courteous fauour of these Gentlemen, I doe finde my selfe sufficient­ly hanced, and that henceforth I shall acknow­ledge it; and that whensoeuer I shall offer to bee hanced againe, I shall arme my selfe with the craft of a Fox, the manners of a Hogge, the wis­dome of an Asse, mixt with the ciuility of a Beare. This was the forme of the oath, which as neare as I can shall bee performed on my part; and heere is to bee noted that the first word a Nurse or a Mother doth teach her children if they bee Males, is Drinke, or Beere: So that most of them are transformd to Barrels, Firkings, and Kinderkins, alwayes sraight with Hamburge beere.

And though the City is not much more then halfe the bignes as London is within the wals, yet are there in it almost 800. Brewhouses, and in one day there hath beene shipped away from thence, 337. brewings, of Beere, besides 13. or 14. brewings haue beene wrackt or stayed in the Towne, as not suffieient to bee beczeled in the Country.

The Saturday beeing thus past, and Sunday come, I went toward the English Church, where I obserued many shops open, buying and sel­ling, chopping and changing of all manner of wares, with the streets furnished with Apples, Peares, Plums, Nuts, Grapes, or any thing else that an ordinary Market can affoord, as com­monly as if the Sabbaoth were but a bare Cere­mony without a Commandement. In which I note the Iewes in their execrable superstition, to be more deuout and obseruant, then these Ped­lars in their profession; for on the Saturday (be­ing the Iewes Sabbath) they neglect all humane affaires, and betake themselues irreligiously to their misbeleeuing faithlesse religion.

The Sermon beeing ended at the English Church, I walked in the afternoone with a friend of mine, (an Inhabitant of the Towne) to see and [Page 79] to be seene, where at one of the gates was placed a strong guard of Souldiers with Muskets, Pikes, Halberts, and other warlike accoutrements, I asked the cause, and I was informed it was be­cause of the building of new mounts and Bul­warks which were partly erected without the old wall: And when I perceiued these fortifications, I was amazed, for it is almost incredible for the number of men and horses that are dayly set on worke about it, besides the worke it selfe is so great that it is past the credit of Report, and as I suppose will prooue most inexpugnable and in­vincible Rampiers to strengthen the Towne on that side-against the inuasiue attempts of the greatest Monarke that should assaile them.

But aftermuch musing, walking further to­wards the fields. I espyed foure or fiue pretty parcels of modesty goe very friendly vp into a Councell-house by the wayes side, as wee and thousands of people vsed to passe; they were handsome young Girles of the age of 18. or 20. yeares a peece, and although they had a doore to shut yet they knowing their businesse to bee necessary and naturall, [...]ate still in louing and neighbourly manner, so hauing traced a turne or two we returned into the Towne againe, and entering a long Garden within the Wals, some of the Townes-men were shooting for wagers at a marke with their muskets: some bowling: some at slide thrift, or shouel-boord: some dancing before a blind Fidler, and his cow-bellied, drop­sie dutty Drab: some at one game, some at an­other most of them drinking, and all of them drinke that though it was a Sabboth, which should wholly be dedicated to God, yet by the those of these bursten-gutted bibbers, they made it an after-noone consecrated, or more truely ex­ecrated to the seruice of hell, and to the great am­plification of the Deuils kingdome.

When Christians dare Gods Sabboth to abuse,
They make themselues a scorne to Turkes & Iewes:
Tis stealing Barabasses beastly race,
Rib God of Glory, and your selues of Grace.
Thinke on the supreame Iudge who all things tryes,
When Iewes against you shall in Iudgement rise.
Their feigned truth, with feruent zeale they show,
The truth vnfeign'd you know, yet will not know.
Then at the Barre in new Ierusalem,
It shall be harder much for you then them.

But leauing them to their drunken designes, I return'd toward my Lodging, where by the way I saw at the common Iayle o [...] the Towne, a great number of people were clustred together, I as­ked the cause of their concourse, and I was certi­fied that there was a P [...]i [...]oner to be broken vpon the wheele the next day, and that these idle Ga­zers did prease to gape vpon him or want of bet­ter imployments, I being as inquisi [...]iue after no­uelties, as a Trauailer of my [...] [...]all experience might be, enquired earn [...]st [...]y the true cause of the next dayes execution: my friend told me that the Prisoner was a poore Carpenter dwelling [...] the Towne, who lately hauing stolne a Goose, and plucking it within his doores, a little Girle, (his daughter in Law) went out of his house, and left the doore open by which meanes, the ow­ner of the Goose passing by espyed the wretched Theese very diligently picking what hee before had beene stealing, to whom the owner said: Neighbour I now perceiue which way my Geese vse to goe, but I will haue you in question for them, and so away hee went: the Caitiffe beeing thus reprooued grew desperate, and his child comming into his house; ye yong whore, quoth he, must ye leaue my doore open for folkes to looke in vpon me? and with that word, he tooke a Hatchet and with a cursed stroake, he cloue the childes head: for the which murther he was con­demned and iudged to be broken aliue vpon the wheele. Close by the Iayle I espyed a house of free stone, round and flat roofed, and leaded, vp­on the which was erected the true picture of a most vnmatchable Hang-man: and now I am entered into a discourse of this braue abiect, or subiect, you must vnderstand that this fellow, is a merry, a mad, and a subsidie Hangman, to whō our Tyburn [...] Tatterdemalian, or our Wap­ping winde-pipe stretcher, is but a Raggamuffin, not worth the hanging: for this teare-throat Termagant is a fellow in Folio, a Commander of such great command, and of such greatnesse to command, that I neuer saw any that in that res­pect could countermand him: for his making is almost past description, no Saracens head seemes [Page 80] greater, and sure I thinke his brainepan if it were emptied, (as I thinke he hath not much braine in it,) would well containe halfe a bushell of mault, his shaggie haire and beard would stuffe a Cushion for Charons boate, his Imbost nose and embroydered face, would furnish a Iewel­ler; his eyes well dryed, would make good Ten­nis-balls, or shot for a small peece of Ordinance, his yawning mouth would serue for a Conni­borrow, and his two ragged rowes of teeth, for a stone wall, or a Pale; then hath he a necke like one of Hercules his pillars, with a winde-pipe, (or rather a beere pipe) as bigge as the boare of a Demiculuering, or a wooden pumpe; through which conduit halfe a brewing of Hamburgh beere doth runne downe into his vnmeasurable paunch, wherein is more midrisfe, guts and gar­bage then three tripe-wiues could be able to vt­ter before it stunke. His post [...]like legges were answerable to the rest of the great frame which they supported, and to conclude, sir Beuis, Asca­part, Gogmagag, or ou English sir Iohn Falstaff, were but shumps to this bezzeling Bombards longitude, Iatitude, altitude, and crassi [...]ude, for he passes, and surpasses the whole Germane mul­titude.

And as hee is great in corpulencie, so is hee powerfull in potencie, for figuratiuely hee hath spirituall resemblance of Romish authority, and in some sort he is a kind of demy-Pope, for once a yeere in the dogge-dayes he sends out his men with bates in stead of Buls, with full power from his greatnesse, to knocke downe all the cus with­out contradiction, whose masters or owners will not be at the charge to buy a pardon for them of his mightinesse, which pardon is more dure­able then the Popes of waxe or parchment, for his is made of a piece of the hide of an Oxe, a Horse, or such lasting stuffe, which with his stig­maticall stamp or seale is hanged about euery dogs necke who is freed from his furie by the purchase of his pardon. And sure I am perswa­ded that these dogges are more sure of their liues with the hangmans pardon, then the poore be­sotted blinded Papists are of their seduced soules from any pardon of the Popes.

The priuiledges of this graund haulter-master are many, as hee hath the emptying of all the vaults or draughts in the city, which no doubt hee gaines some fauour by. Besides all Oxen, Kine, Horses, Hogs, Dogs, or any such beasts, it they die themselues, or if they bee not like to liue, the hang-man must knocke them on the heades, and haue their skins: and whatsoeuer in­habitant in his iurisdiction doth any of these things aforesaid himselfe, is abhorred and ac­counted as a villaine without redemption. So that with hangings, headings, breakings, pardo­ning and killing of dogges, flaying of beasts, emptying vaults, and such priuie commodi­ties, his whole reuenue sometimes amounts to 4. or 5. hundred pounds a yeere. And hee is held in that regard and estimation, that any man will conuerse and drinke with him, nay some­times the Lords of the Towne will feast with him, and it is accounted no impeachment to their honours; for he is held in the ranke of a Gentleman, (or a ranke Gentleman) and hee scornes to be clad in the cast weedes of executed offenders: No, he goes to the Meroers, and hath his Sattin, his Veluet, or what stuffe he pleases, measured out by the yard or the ell, with his gould and siluer lace, his silke stockings, laced spangled garters and roses, hat and feather, with foure or fiue braue villaines attending him in Li­uery cloakes, who haue stipendary meanes from his ignominious bounty.

Munday the 19. of August, about the houre of 12. at noone, the people of the towne in great multitudes flocked to the place of execution; which is halfe a mile English without the gates, built more like a sconce then a Gallowes, for it is walled and ditched about with a draw-bridge and the prisoner came on foote with a Diuine with him, all the way exhorting him to repen­tance, and because death should not terrifie him, they had giuen him many rowses and ca­rowses of wine and beere: for it is the custome there to make such poore wretches drunke, wher­by they may be sencelesse eyther of Gods mercy or their owne misery; but being prayed for by others, they themselues may die resolutely, or (to be feared) desperately.

But the prisoner being come to the place of death, he was by the officers deliuered to the hangman, who entring his strangling fortifica­tion [Page 81] with two grand hangmen more and their [...] which were come from the City of Lu­ [...] and another Towne(which I cannot name) to assist their Hamburghian brother in this great [...] weightie worke: the draw-bridge was drawne [...]d the Prisoner mounted on a mount of [...] built high on purpose that the people without may see the execution a quarter of a mile round about: foure of the Hangmans men takes each of them a small halter, and by the hands and the feet they hold the Prisoners exten­ded all abroad lying on his backe: then the Arch-hangman, or the great Master of this migh­ty businesse tooke vp a wheele, much about the bignesse of one of the fore-wheeles of a Coach: [...], hauing put off his doubler, his hat, and being in his shirt, as if he meant to play at tennis, he tooke the wheele, and set it on the edge, and [...] it with one hand like a top or a whirligig, then he tooke it by the spoakes, and lifting it vp with a mightie stroake he beate one of the poore wretches leggs in peeces, (the bones I meane) at which he rored grieuously; then after a little pawse he breakes the other leg in the same man­ner, and consequently breakes his armes, and then he stroke foure or fiue maine blowes on his brest, and burst all his bulke and che [...] in shiuers, lastly he smoate his necke, and missing, burst his chin and iawes to mammockes; then he tooke the broken mangled corps, and spread it on the wheele, and thrust a great post or pile into the Naue or hole of the wheele, and then fixed the post into the earth some sixe foot deepe, beeing in height aboue the ground, some ten or twelue foote, and there the carkasse must lye till it bee consumed by all consuming time, or rauening Fowles.

This was the terrible manner of this horrid execution, and at this place are twenty posts with those wheeles or peeces of wheeles, with heads of men nailed on the top of the posts, with a great spike driuen, through the skull. The seuerall kinds of torments which they inflict vpon offenders in those parts makes mee to imagine our English hanging to be but a flea-biting.

Moreouer, if any man in those parts are to be beheaded, the fashion is, that the P [...]soner kneels downe, and being blinded with a Napkin, one takes hold of the haire of the crowne of the head, holding the party vpright, whilst the hang­man with a backeward blow with a sword will take the head from a mans shoulders so nimbly, and with such dextertie, that the owner of the head shall neuer want the misse of it. And if it be any ma [...]s fortune to be hanged for neuer so small a crime, though he bee mounted whole, yet hee shall come downe in peeces, for hee shall hang till euery ioynt and Limbe drop one from another.

They haue strange torments and varieties of deaths, according to the various nature of the of­fences that are committed: as for example, hee that counterfeits any Princes coyne, and is proo­ued a Coyner, his iudgement is to be boyled to death in oyle, not throwne into the vessell all at once, but with a pulley or a Rope to bee hanged vnder the Arme pits, and let downe into the oile by degrees: first the feete, and next the legs, and so to boyle his flesh from his bones aliue. For those that set houses on fire wilfully, they are smoaked to death, as first there is a pile or post fixed in the ground, and within an English Ell of it is a peece of wood nailed crosse whereupon the offender is made fast fitting then ouer the top of the post is whelmed a great tub or Dryfat, which doth couer or ouerwhelme the Prisone as low as the middle. Then vnderneath the exe­cutioner hath wet straw, hay, stubble, or such kind of stuffe, which is fired, but by reason it is wet and danke, it doth not burne but molder and smoake, which smoake ascends vp into the tub where the Prisoners head is, and not being able to speake, he will heaue vp and downe with his belly; and people may perceiue him in these tor­ments to liue three or foure houres.

Adultery there, if it bee prooued, is puni­shed with death, as the losse of both the parties heads, if they bee both married, or if not both, yet the married party must dye for i [...], and the o­ther must endure some easier punishment, ey­ther by the purse or carkasse; which in the end proues little better then halfe a hanging.

But as after a tempest a calme is best wel­come; so I imagine it not amisse after all this tra­gicall harsh discourse, to sweeten the Readers pallat with a few Comicall reports which were [Page 82] related vnto me, wherein I seeme fabulous, it must be remembered that I claime the priui­ledge of a traueller, who hath authority to re­port all that he heares and sees, and more too. I was informed of a fellow that was hanged som­what neere the high way, within a mile or two of Collcin, and the fashion being to hang with a halter and a chaine, that when the haulter is rotten with the weather, the carkafse drops a but­ten hole lower into the chaine. Now it fortuned that this fellow was executed on a winters after­noone towards night, and being hanged, the chaine was shorter then the halter, by reason whereof he was not strangled, but by the gam­ming of the chaine which could not slip close to his necke, he hanged in great torments vnder the Iawes, it happened that as soone as hee was trust vp, there fell a great storme of raine and winde, whereupon all the people ran away from the Gallowes to shelter themselues. But night being come, and the moone shining bright, it chanced that a Country Boore, or a waggoner and his Sonne with him were driuing their emp­ty waggon by the place where the fellow was hanged, who being not choaked, in the extremi­ty of his paines did stirre his legges and writhe and crumple his body, which the waggoners Sonne perceiued, and said, Father looke, the man vpon the Gallowes doth mooue: quoth the old man he moues indeed, I pray the let vs make hast, and put the Waggon vnder the Gibbet, to see if we can vnhang and saue him. This being said was quickely done, and the wretch halfe dead was laid in straw in the Boores waggon, and car­ried home, where with good attendance he was in foure or fiue dayes recouered to his health, but that he had a cricke in his necke, & [...] the cramp in his iawes. The old man was glad that he had done so good a deed, (as he thought) began to giue the thiefe Fatherly counsell, and told him that it was Gods great mercy towards him to make me (quoth he) the Instrument of thy deli­uerance, and therfore looke that thou make good vse of this his gracious fauour towards thee, and labour to redeeme the time thou hast mispea, get thy into some other Princes countrey, where thy former crimes may not bring thee into the danger of the Law againe, and there with honest industrious endeuours get the liuing.

The thiefe seemed willing to entertaine these good admonitions, and thanked the Boore and his Sonne, telling them that the next morning he would be gone [...] and if euer his fortunes made him able, he promised to be so grateful vnto them that they should haue cause to say their great cur­tesies were well bestowed vpon him; but all his sugred sweete promises, were in the proofe but Gall and wormwood in the performance: for this gracelesse Caitiffe arose betimes in the morning, and drew on a paire of Bootes and spurres which were the mans sonnes of the house, and slipping out of the doores, went to the stable and stole one of his kind hosts best horses, and away rode hee. The man and his Sonne, when they were vp and missed the thiefe and the horse, were amazed at the ingratitude of the wretch, and with all speed his soone and he rode seuerall waies in pursuit of him, and in briefe one of them tooke him, and brought him backe to their house againe, and when it was night they bound him, and laid [...] in their waggon(hauing deafe eares, and hardned hearts to all his intreaties) and away to the Gal­lowes where they found him hanging, there they with the halter being a little shortened, they left him. The next day the Country people wondred to see him hanging there again, for they had seen him hanged, and missed him gone, and now tobe thus strangely & priuately come againe in boote and spurres, whereas they remembred at his first hanging he had shoes & stockings, it made them muse what iourney he had beene riding, & what a mad G [...]est he was to take the Gallowes for his Inne, or (as I suppose) for his end.

The rumor of this accident being bruited a­broad, the people came far and neere to see him, all in general wondring how these things should come to passe. At last, to cleere all doubts, pro­clamations were published with pardon, and a reward to any that could discouer the truth, whereupon the old Boore & Soone came in and related the whole circumstance of the matter.

At another place (the hangmans place beeing void) there were two of the bloud (for it is to be noted that the succession of that office doth liue­ally descend from the Father to the Soone, or to the next of the bloud) which were at strife for the

[Page 83]possession of this high indignity. Now it happe­ned that 2. men were to be beheaded at the saine towne, and at the same time, and (to auoid sute in law for this great prerogatiue) it was concluded by the Arbitrators, that each of these new hang­man should execute one of the Prisoners, and he that with greatest cunning and sleight could take the head from the body, should haue the place, to this they all agreed and the Prisoners were brought forth, where one of the Executioners did bide a red silke thread double about his Priso­ners necke the threads being distant one from a­nother only the bredth of one thread, and he pro­mised to cut off the head with a backward blow with a Sword, betweene the threads. The other called his Prisoner aside, and told him that if hee would be ruled by him, he should haue his life sa­ued; and besides (quoth he) I shall be sure to haue the office. The Prisoner was glad of the motion, and said he would doe any thing vpon these con­ditions, then said the Hangman, when thou art on thy knees, and hast said thy prayers, and that Idoe lift vp my Axe, (for I will vse an Axe) to strinke thee, I will cry He [...], at which word doe thou rise and run away, (thou knowest none will slay thee if thou canst once elcape after thou art deliuered into my custody, it is the fashion of our Country) and let me alone to shift to answer the matter. This being said or whispered, the heads­man with the sword did cut off the Prisoners head [...] betweene the threads as hee had said, which made all the people wonder at the steddinesse of his hand, and most of them iudged that hee was the man that was and would be fittest to make a mad hangman of.

But as one tale is good till another be told, and as there be three degrees of good, better, and best; so this last hangman did much exceed and eclipse the others cunning: For his prisoner being on his knees, and he lifting vp his axe to giue the fatall blow, He [...], (said he according to promise) where­upon the fellow arose and ran away, but when he had run some seuen or eight paces, the hangman threw the Axe after him, and strooke his head smoothly from his shoulders, now for all this, who shall haue the place is vnknowne, for they are yet in Law for it; and I doubt not but before the matter bee ended, that the Lawyers will make them exercise their own trades vpon thems­elues to end the controuersie. This tale doth fauour somewhat Hyperbolicall but I wish the Reader to beleeue no more of the matter then I saw, and there is an end.

At another Towne there stood an old ouer­worne despised paire of Gallowes, but yet not so old but they will last many a faire yere with good vsage, but the Townes men a little distance from them built another paire, in a more stately Geo­metricall port and fashion, whereupon they were demanded why they would be at the charge to e­rect a new Gallowes, hauing so sufficient an old one: they answered, that those old Gallowes should serue to hang fugitiues and strangers; but those new ones were built for them and their heires for euer. Thus much for hangmen, the eues, and Gallowses.

Yet one thing more for theeues: In Hamburgh those that are not hanged for theft, are chained 2. or 3. together, and they must in that sort sixe or seuen yeares draw a dung-cart, and clense the streets of the towne, & euery one of those theeues for as many yeares as hee is condemned to that slauery, so many Bels he hath hanged at an iron aboue one of his shoulders, and euery yeare a Bell is taken off, till all are gone, and then he is a Freeman againe, and I did see ten or twelue of these Carts, and some of the Theeues had 7. Bels, some 5. some 6. some one, but such a noyse they make, as if all the Diuels in Hell were dan­cing the morrice.

Hamburgh is a free City, not being subiect to the Emperour, or any other Prince, but onely gouerned by twenty foure Burgomasters, where­of two are the chiefe, who are called Lords, and doe hold that dignity from their first election during their liues: The buildings are all of one vniforme fashion, very lofty and stately, it is wonderful populous, and the water with boats comes through most of the streets of the towne.

Their Churches are most gorgeously set forth, as the most of them couered with copper, with very lofty Spires, and within sides they are a­dorned with crucifixes, Images and pictures, which they doe charily keepe for ornaments, but not for idle or idoll adoration; In S. Iacobs and in Saint Katherines Churches there is in one of [Page 84] them a Pulpit of Alablaster, and in the other a paie of such Organs, which for worth and work­manship are vnparaleld in Christendome, as most trauailers doe relate.

The women there are no fashion mongers, but they keepe in their degrees one continuall habit, as the richer sort doe weare a Huicke, which is a robe of cloth or stuffe plated, and the vpper part of it is gathered and sowed together in the forme of an English potlid, with a tasfell on the top, and so put vpon the head, and the garment goes o­uer her ruffe and face if she please, and so downe to the ground, so that a man may meet his owne wife, and perhaps not know her from another Woman.

They haue no Porters to beare burdens, but they haue bigge burly-bon'd knaues with their wiues that doe daily draw Carts any whether vp and downe the towne, with Marchants goods or any other imployments: And it is reported that these Cart-drawers are to see the rich men of the Towne prouided of milch-nurses for their chil­dren, which nurses they call by the name of Ams, so that if they doe want a nurse at any time, these fellowes are cursed, because they haue not got­ten wenches enough with childe to supply their wants.

But if a man of any fashion doe chance to goe astray to a house of iniquity, the whilst he is in the house at his drudgery, another of the whores will goe to the Sherif, (which they call the Right­heere) and informe that such a man is in such a suspected house, then is his comming forth nar­rowly watched, and he is taken and brought be­fore the Right-heere, and examined, where if he bee a man of credit, he must, and will pay forty, fifty, or sixty Rex Dollers before he will haue his reputation called in question. Of which money the queane that did informe shall haue her reward.

A Lawyer hath but a bad trade there, for any Cause or Controuersie is tryed and determined in three dayes Quirks, Quiddits, Demurs, Habe­as Corposes, Sursararaes, Procedendoes, or any such dilatory Law-tricks are abolished, and not worth a button.

But aboue all, I must not forget the rare acti­ons and humours of a Quacksaluer or Mounte­banke, or to speake more familiarly, a shadow o [...] a skilfull Chyrurgian. This fellow beeing cla [...] in an ancient doublet of decayed Satin, with [...] Spruce Leather Ie [...]kin with Glasse buttons, the rest of his attire being correspondent, was moun­ted vpon a Scaffold, hauing shelfes set with Vi­ols, Gallipots, Glasses, Boxes, and such like stuffe, wherein as he said, were Watcrs, Oyles, Vnguents, Emplafters, Electuaries, Vomits, Pur­ges, and a world of neuer heard of Drugs, and be­ing mounted (as I said) he & his man begin to pro­claime all their skill and more, hauing a great number of idle and ignorant gazers on, he began as followeth (as I was informed by my Interpre­ter, for I vnderstood not one word he spake.)

I Iacomo Compostella, Practitioner in Physicke, Chyrurgery, and the Mathematicks, beeing a man famous through Europe, Asia, Affe [...] cke, and America, from the Orientall exhaltation, of Ti­tan, to his Occidentall declination, who for the Testimony of my skill, and the rae cures that I haue done, haue these Princes hands and seales; as first the great Cham of Tartaria, in whose Court, onely with this water which is the Elix­ar of Henbane, diafracted in a Diurnall of Egre­dients Hippocratonticke, Auiceni [...], and Ca­tarackt, with this did I cure the great Dutchesse of Promulpho, of the cramp in her tongue: and with this Oyle did I restore the Emperour Gr [...] ­gory Euanowich, of a Convulsion in his P [...]icra­nion. From thence I trauailed through Slauo­nia, where I met with Mustapha Despot of Seruis, who at that time was intolerably vexed with a Spas [...]us, so that it often droue him into a Syn­cope with the violent obstructions of the con­flagerating of his veines. Onely with this pre­cious Vnguent being the Quintessence of Nug­wort, with Auripigmenty terragrophicated in a Limbecke of Chystalline translucency, I reco­uered him to his former health, and for my re­ward I had a Barbary Horse with rich Capari­sons, a Turkish Semitar, a Persian Robs, & 2000. Hungarian Ducats.

Besides, here are the hands and Scales of Pot [...] ­hamacke, Adelant ado of Prozewgma, and of Gulc [...] Flownder scurfe chiefe Burgomaster of Bel­grade, and of diuers Princes and estates, which to auoid tedious prolixity I omit. But good people [Page 85] if you or any other bee troubled with Apo. plexies, Palsies, Cramps, Lethargies, Cataracks, Qunsies, Tisicks, Pleurisies, Coüghs, Headaches, Terrian, Q [...]artan, and Q [...]otidian Agues, burning [...]auers, laundizes, Dropsies, Collicks, Illiaca passio's, the Stone, the Strangury, the Poxe, Plague, Botches, Bi [...]es, Blanes, Scabs, Scurfs, Mange, Leprosies, Cankers, Megrims, Mumps, Fluxes, Meazels, Murreins, Gouts, Consump­tions, Tooth-ach, Ruptures, Hernia Aquosa, Hernia Ventosa, Hernia Carnosa, or any o­ther maladie that dares affl [...]ct the body of man or woman, come and buy while you may haue it for money, for I am sent for speedily to the Emperour of Trapezond, about affaires of great importance that highly concernes his royall person.

Thus almost two houres did this fellow with embost words, and most laborious action, talke and sweat to the people, that vnderstood no more what he said, then he himselfe vnderstood himselfe. And I thinke his whole takings for simple compounds did amount in the totall to [...]pence sterling.

But leauing Hamburgh, (hauing gathered these few obseruations aforesaid) out of it I went Au­gust 28. and my first iaunt of my trauels was by water, to a Towne called Buckstahoo, it is a little walled towne, and stands on the other side of the Riuer, 3. miles as they cal it from Hamburgh. The boat we passed in is called an Iuar, not so good as a Grauel end barge, yet I thinke it be as great, & the three miles longer then from London, to Grauel-end, for I am sure that we were going 9. houres before we could be Landed: Our passage cost vs 3. pence a peece, and one thing I remember well, that the lazie water men will si st [...]ll all (or the most part of the way) whilst thei [...] Passen­gers, (be they neuer so rich or poore, all is one to them, be they men or women) they must rowe by turnes an houre or such a matter: and we landed in the night at a place called Crants, where al the passengers were to go to Supper, but such dye [...] we had, that the Prouerbe was truly verified. God sent meat, and the Diuel sent Cookes: for as there was no respect of persons in the boat, so all fel­lowes at the Table, and all one price, the Pala­tine and the Plebeian: our first messe was great platters of blacke broth, in shape like new tarre, and in tast Cofen Germane to slut pottage; our second were dishes of Eeles, chop'd as small as hearbs, and the broth they were in as salt as brin [...]: then had we a boyld Go [...]se, with choake peares and carrets buried in a deepe dish; and when we demanded what was to pay, it was but three pence a man, I mused at the cheapenesse of it, but afterward they came vpon vs with a fresh rec­koning of fiue pence a man for beere, for they neuer count their meat and drinke together, but bring in seuerall reckonings for them: but the morning being come, we hired a Boor [...]s Wag­gon, to carry vs to a place called Cit [...]zen, three miles there, or 12. English miles from Bucksta­hoo: a little bald dorp it is, where we came about noone, and found such slender entertainement, that we had no cause to boast of our good cheere or our Hostesse Cookery. We hauing refreshed our selues, and hyred a fresh Waggon, away we went two miles further to a Dorp called Rodon­burgh, this village belongeth to the Byshop of Rodonburgh, who hath a faire house there, strong­ly walled and deepely ditched and Moated a­bout very defensible, with draw bridges, and good Ordinance. This Bishop is a tempo­rall Lord, notwithstanding his spirituall title; and no doubt but the flesh preuailes aboue the Spirit with him; So the Bishops of Breame, Lunningburgh, and diuers other places in Ger­many, doe every charitably take the fleece, (for they themselues neuer looke to the flocke) by rea­son they vse no Ecclesiastick function, but onely in name.

Being lodged at Rodenburgh, in a stately Inne, where the Host, Hostesse, Guests. Cowes, Hor­ses, Swine lay all in one Roome; yet I must con­fesse their beds to be very good, and their linning sweet, but in those parts they vse no couerlet, rug, or blanket, but a good featherbed vndermost, with cleane sheets, pillowes, and pillowbears, and another featherbed vppermost, with a faire sheet aboue all, so that a mans lodging is like a wormans lying In, all white.

August the 30. wee went from Rodenburgh, and about noone wee came to an old walled towne, called Feirden, it hath two Churches in it, and the hangmans statue very artificially car­ued [Page 86] in stone, and set on a high pillar, with a rod rampant in his hand, at this Towne I met with sixe strangers, all trauailers, where wee went to dinner together all at one Table, and euery man opened his knapsacke or budget with victuals; (for he that carries no meat with him, may fast by authority in most places of that Country) but to note the kindnesse of these people one to ano­ther, some had bread and a boxe of salt butter, some had raw bacon, some had cheese, some had pickled herring, some dryed beefe, and amongst the rest, I had brought three ribs of rost beefe, and other prouision from Hamburgh: to conclude, we drew all like fidlers, and led (for the most part) like Swine, for euery man eat what was his own, and no man did proffer one bit of what he had to his neighbour, so he that had cheese must diue with chesse, for he that had meat would offer him none; I did cut euery one a part of my rost beefe; which my guide told me they would not take well, because it is not the fashion of the Coun­trey: I tryed, and found them very tractable to take any thing that was good, so that I perceiued their modesty to take one from another, proceeds from their want of manners to offer. But din­ner being done, away we went ouer a bridge, in the midst whereof is a Iynn, made in the likenesse of great Lanthorne, it is hanged on a turning Gybber like a Crane: So that it may bee turned on the bridge and ouer the Riuer, as they shall please that haue occasion to vse it. It is big e­nough to hold two men, and it is for this purpose if any one or more do rob Gardens or Orchards, or Corne fields, (if they be taken) he or they are put into this same whiligig, or kickumbob, and the gybbet being turned, the offender hangs in this Cage from the Riuer some 12. or 14. foot from the water, then there is small Line made fast to the party some 5. or 6. fadome, and with a tricke which they haue, the bottome of the Cage drops out, and the thiefe fals sodenly into the wa­ter. I had not gone farre, but at the end of the bridge I saw an old Chappell, which in old time they lay was dedicated to S. Frodswicke, which hath the day after Saint Luke the Enangelist: I entering in, perceiued it was a chartiable Chap­pell, for the doores and windowes were al­wayes open, by reason there were none to shut, and it was a common receptacle for Beggers and Rogues. There was the Image of our La­dy with a vaile ouer her, made as I thinke of a Ba­kers bolter, and Saint Peter holding a candle to her. I cut a peece of her Vaile, and taking Peter by the hand at my departure, the kinde Image (I know not vpon what acquaintance) beeing loose handed, let me haue his hand with [...]ntc, which beeing made of wood, by reason of rui­nous antiquitie, burst off in the handling: which two precious relickes I brought home with me to defend me and all my friends from Sparrow­blasting.

From this place wee were glad to trauaile on foot 1. Dutch mile to a Dorpe called Durfurne, where we hired a Boores Waggon to a Towne called Neinburgh, but we could not reach thither by 2. English miles, so that we were glad to lodge in a Barne that night: on the morrow early we arose & came to Neinburgh, which is a little wal­led towne, belonging to that Byshopricke from whence it is so named. There we stayed 3. houres before we could get a Waggon, at last wee were mounted to a Dorpe called Leiz, 2. Dutch miles; I would haue bargained with the Boore to haue carried vs to Dorne, which I bade my guide tell him it was but a mile further, a mile quoth the Boore, indeed we call it no more, but it was mea­sured with a Dog, and they threw in the taile and all to the bargaine; so to Leize he carried vs, and there we found a Waggon of Dorne homeward bound, which made vs ride the cheaper; but it was the longest mile that euer I rode or went, for surely it is as much as some ten of out miles in England. But hauing ouercome it at last, from thence I tooke a fresh Waggon to carry me two miles further to a towne called Buckaburgh, where I had, and haue I hope, a Brother residing; to whom my iourny was entended, and with whom my perambulation was at a period. This towne of Buckaburgh is wholely and solely belon­ging to the Graff or Graue of Shomburgh, a Prince of great command and eminence, abso­lute in his authoritie and power, not counter­manded by the Emperour, or any other fur­ther then coutesie requires; and in a word, he is one of the best accomplisht Gentlemen in Europe for his person, port, and Princely magnificence.

[Page 87]He hath there to his inestimable charge, built the Towne, with many goodly Houses, Streets, Lanes, a strong wall, and a deepe ditch, all well furnished with munition and Artillerie, with a band of Souldiers which he keepeth in continu­all pay, allowing euery man a Doller a Weeke, and double apparell euery yeare. Besides, he hath built a stately Church, being aboue 120. steps to the Roofe, with a fa [...]e paire of Organs, a curious ca [...]ued P [...]lpit, and all other Ornaments belon­ging to the same. His owne Pallace may well be called an earthly Paradice, which if I should run into praise of the description of, I should bring my wits into an intricate Labyritch, that I should hardly finde the way ou [...], yet according to the imbecility of my memory I will only touch a little at the shadow of it, and let the sub­stance stand where it doth.

At the front or outward gate is a most stately Arch, vpon the top whereof is erected the image of E [...]uy, (as great as a de ny Coloss [...]) betweene two Dragons, all guilt with gold, before the gate is an iron grate to open and that as it were of flowers or worke of E [...], at which gate stands alwayes a C [...]rt of Guard, and a Sentinel. and at the Lower part of the Arch is the Princes title or in Capitall Letters as followeth; ‘ERNESTVS DEIGRATIA, COMES HOLST, Scomburgh, Stern­burgh, &c.’

After I was entred within the outward gate, I was shewed his stables, where I saw very faire and goodly horses, both for warre and other v­ [...]es, amongst the rest there was one naturally spotted like a Leopard or Panther, and is called by the name of Leopard, a stately couragious beast, and so formed as If Nature had layd all her cunning aside, onely to compose that Horse, and indeed I mvst acknowledge he was made for the Seruice of some great Prince, and not for any in­feriour Person.

Passing further, I came to another Court of Guard, and ouer a Draw bridge, into the inner Court, where on the right hand, I was conduc­ted into the Chappell, in which Chappell, if it were possible that the hand of mortall men (with artificiall workemanship) could visibly set forth the magnificent glory of the immortal Creator, then absolutely there it is, but being impossible so to doe, (as neere as I can) I will describe it; the pauement is all of blacke and gray marble, curiously wrought with Chequer-worke, the S [...]ats and Pues are carued wainscot of wonderful cunning and workemanship [...] the roofe is ador­ned with the statues of Angel and Cherubins, many in num [...], all so richly guilded, as it Gold were as pentifull as pewter, there could not bee more liberality bestowed: besides there are a faire set of Organs, with a brau: sweet Q [...]ire of Q [...]iristers: so that when they f [...]g, the Lures, Viols, Bandoraes, O gans, Recorders, S [...]gbuts, and o­ther musicall instruments, all strike vp together, with such a glorious delicious harmony, as if the Angelicall musicke of the Sphea [...] were descen­ded into that earthly Tabernacle. The Prince himselfe is a Protest [...], very zealous in his Pray­er, and diligent in his attention to the Preacher, who although I vndestood not, yet I perceiued he was a good D [...]ine, who grauely and sincere­ly with reuerence and eloquent [...]locution, deli­uered the bread of life to the vnderstanding Au­ditors.

In this Towne I [...] with my brother from Saturday the la [...]o August, till the Thursday following which was the fifth of September. When I was conducted an English [...] on my way by certaine of my Countrey men my Lords Musicians, where wee dranke and parted, onely my Brother and my Guide brought me that night to a strong walled Towne called M [...]nden, which standeth on the Riuer o [...] Wea­zar, and belongeth to the Byshop of that See. O [...] the morrow I walked to see the Towne, where I bought thirty fi [...]e C [...]eeses for eight pence, which I brought into England for raritres pence, and a yarda [...]la halte of padding for fiue So about noone we tooke a Boat to passe downe the Riuer, which boat is much longer then a­ny Westerne Barge, but nothing neere so broad, it was halfe laden with Lime and Cnalke, and by reason the W [...]blew hard, we were almost choaked with [...] flying and scattering of that d [...]stie commodity. Besides the Water was so [Page 88] shallow, that we ran a ground three or foure times, and sometimes an houre, sometimes lesse before we could get a float againe: which made mee and my Guide goe a shore at a Village cal­led Peterhaghen, where we hired a Waggon to Leize, where we stayed all night, (being come into our old way againe) where were a crew of strowling Rogues and Whores that tooke vpon them the name of AEgyptians, Iuglets, and For­tune-tellers, and indeed one of them held the Goodwise with a tale, the whilst another was picking her chest, and stole out ten dollers which is forty shillings, and she that talked with her loo­ked in her hand, and told her that if shee did not take great heed she knew by her Art that some mischance was neere her: which prooued true, for her money was gone, the whilst her fortune was telling.

But I appointed a Waggon ouer night to bee ready by three of the Clocke in the morning, when I arose and applyed my trauaile so hard by changing fresh Wagons, so that that day I came as farre as Rodenburgh, which was nine Dutch miles, where I stayd that night: The next day being Sunday the eighth of Semptember, we took Waggon towards Buckstahoo, we had a mer­ry Boore, with an hundred tatters about him; and now I thinke it fit a little to describe these Boores, their natures, habits, and vnmannerly manners. In our English tongue the name Bore or Boore doth truely explaine their Swinish con­dition, for most of them are as full of humanity as a Bacon-hog, or a Bore, and their wiues as clean­ly and courteous as Sowes. For the most part of the men they are clad in thin buckerom, vnlined, bare legged and foored, neyther band nor scarce shirt, no woollen in the world about them, and thus will they run through all weathers for mo­ney by the Waggons side, and though no better apparelled, yet all of them haue Houses, Land, or manuall meanes to liue by. The substantiall Boores I did meet aboue 120. of them that Sun­day, with euery one a Hatchet in his hand, I mu­sed at it, and thought they had beene going to fell Wood that day, but my Guide told me they were all going to Church, and that instead of Cloakes they carried Hatchets, and that it was the fashion of the Country: whereupon it came to my mind. Cloake, quasi Cleaue-oake, ergo the Boores weare Hatchets in steed of Cloakes.

There are other fashion Boores, who weare white Linnen breeches as close as lrish iouze [...], but so long, that they are turned vp at the shooe in a role like a Maides sleeues at the hand, but what these fellowes want in the bignesse of their Hose, they haue in Dublets, for their sleeues are as big as Breeches, and the bodies great enough to hold a Kinderkin of beere, and a barrell of Butter.

The Country is very full of Woods, and espe­cially Oakes, which they very seldome cut down, because of the Mast for their Swine, which liue there in great abundance. If any man bee slaine or murthered in the way, they vse to set vp a wooden Crosse in the place, for a memoriall of the bloudie fact committed there, and there were many of those woodden Crosses in the way as I trauailed.

They seldome haue any Robbery committed amongst them, but there is a murther with it, for their vnmannerly manner is to knocke out a mans braines first, or else to lurke behind a Tree, and shoot a man with a peece or a Pistol, and so make sure worke with the passenger, and then search his pockets.

It is as dangerous to steale or killan Hare in some places there, as it is to rob a Church or kill a man in England, and yet a two penny matter will discharge the offender, for the best and the worst is but an Halter; and I was enformed that an English Marchant (not knowing the danger) as he was riding on the way, hauing a peece char­ged in his hand (as it is an ordinary weapon to trauaile with there) by chance he espyed an hare, and shot at her and killed her; but hee was appre­hended for it, and it was like to haue ecst him his life; but before he got out of the trouble, he was faine to vse his best friends and meanes, (and plea­ding ignorance for his innocency, at last with the losse of a great deale of liberty, and five hundred pound in money he was discharged: The reason of this strict course is, because all the Hares in the Country doe belong to one Lord or other, and being in aboundance, they are killed by the owners appointment, and carried to the markets [Page 89] by Cart-loads, and sold fot the vse of the honou­rable owners: And no Boore or Tenant that dwels in those parts where those Hares are plen­ty, must Keepe a Dogge, except hee pay fiue shillings a yeere to the Lord, or else one of his fore feet must be cut off, that hee may not hunt Hares.

A Man is in almost as high proportion to be a [...]naue in England, as a Knight in Germany, for there a Gentleman is called a Youngcur, and a Knight is but a Youngcurts man, so that you shall have a scuruy Squire command a Knight to hold his stirrop, plucke off his boots, or any other vn­knightly peece of seruice: and verily I thinke there are an 100. seuerall Princes, Earles, Byshops, and other Estates, that doe euery one keepe a mint, and in their owne names stampe Money, Gold, Siluer and Brasse, and amongst 23. two pences which I had of their brasse money, (which they call Grushes) I had 13. seuerall coynes.

Many more such worthic in [...]unctions and ho­nourable ordinances I obserued, which are hard­ly worth pen and inke the describing, and there­fore I omit them, and draw toward an end, for on the Wednesday morning I was at an anchor at Stoad, and on the Friday night following I was (by Gods gracious assistance) Landed at London. So that in three weekes and three dayes I sayled from England to Hamburgh and backe againe, staying in the Countrey 17.dayes, and trauailed 200. miles by Land there: gathe­ring like a busie Bee all these honied obser­uations, some by sight, some by hea­ring, some by both, some by nei­ther, and some by bare supposition.

FINIS

TAYLORS TRAVELS TO PRAGVE IN BOHEMIA.

Reader, take this in your way.

A Pamphlet (Reader,) from the Presse is hurld,
That hath not many fellowes in the world:
The manner's common, though the matter's shallow,
And 'tis all true, which makes it want a fellow.

ANd because I would not haue you either guld of your mony, or deceiued in expecta­tiō, I pray you take notice of my plaine dealing, for I haue not giuen my book a swel­ling bumbasted title, or a promising inside of newes; therfore if you look for any such matter from hence, take this warning, hold fast your mony; and lay the booke downe yet if you do buy it (I dare presume) you shall find somwhat in it worth part of your mony, the [...]roth is that I did chiefly write it, because I am of much acquaintance, and cannot passe the streets, but I am continually stayed by one or other, to know what newes, so that sometimes I am foure houres before I can goe the length of two paire of Buts, where such non-sence or sence­lesse questions are propounded to me, that cals many seeming wise mens wisedomes in question, drawing aside the curtaines of their vnderstanding, and laying their ignorance wide open. First Iohn Easie takes me, and holds me fast by the fift halfe an houre; and will needs torture some newes out of me from Spinola, whom I was neuer neere by 500.miles; for he is in the Phllatinate Coun­try, and I was in Bohemia I am no sooner eased of him, but Gregory Gandergoose an Alderman of Gotham, catches me by the goll demanding if Bohemia be a great Towne, and whether there bee any meate in it, and whether the last fleet of ships be arriued there: his mouth being stop'd a third examines me boldly, what newes from Vienna, where the Emperours Army is, what the Duke of Bauaria doth, what is become of Count Buquoy, how sares all the Englishmen; Where lyes the King of Bohemiaes forces, what Bethlem Gabor doth, what tydings of Dampeier, and such a tem­pest of inquisition, that it almost shakes my patience in peeces. To ease my selfe of all which, I was inforced to set pen to paper, and let this poore Pamphlet (my harald or nuntius trauaile and talke, whilst I take my ease with silence. Thus much I dare affirme, that whosoever he or they bee, that doe scatter any scandalous speeches against the plenty in Bohemia of all manner of needfull things for the sustenance of man and beasts, (of the which there is more abundance then euer I saw in any place else) or whatsoeuer they be that report any ill successe on the Kings party, this little booke, and I the Author, doth proclaime and proue them false Lyers, and they are to be suspected, for coyning such falshoods as no well willers to the Bohemian prosperity. One thing I must intreat the Readers patience in reading one hundred lines: wherein I haue kept a filthy stirre about a beast­ly fellow, who was at my going from England a peece of a Graues end Constable) at which time he did me such wrong, as might haue drawne my life in question; for he falsly said that I would haue fired their Towne. I did promise him a ierke or two of my pen at my returne; which now I haue performed, (not out of any malice, but because I would be as good as my word with him.) Thus crauing you to reade if you like, and like as you lift. I leaue you a Booke much like a pratling Gos­sip, full of many words to small purpose.

Yours, as you are mine, IOHN TAYLOR.

TAYLORS TRAVELS From the Cittie of LONDON in England, to the Cittie of PRAGVE in Bohemia. WITH The manner of his abode there three Weekes, his Obseruations there, and his returne from thence. AS ALSO, How hee past 600. Miles downe the Riuer of Elue, through Bohemia, Saxonie, Anhalt, the Byshopricke of Magdenburg, Brandenburg, Hamburgh, and so to England. With many Relations worthy of note.

I Came from Bohem, yet no newes I bring,
Of busines 'twixt the Keysar and the King:
My Muse dares not ascend the lofty staires
Of state, or write of Princes great affaires.
And as for newes of battels, or of War,
Were England from Bohemia thrice as far:
Yet we doe know (or seeme to know) more heere
This was, is, or will be euer knowne there.
At Ordinaries, and at Barbar-shops,
There tidings vented are, as thicks as hops,
Hyu many thousand such a day were slaine,
What men of more were in the battle ta'us,
When, where; and how the bloody fight begun,
And [...] such scences, and such Townes were won;
How so and so the Armies brauely met.
And which side glorious victorie did get:
The moneth, the weeks, the day, the very hours,
And [...], they did oppose each others powre,
These things in England, prating fooles dee chatter,
When all Bohemia knowes of no such matter.
For all this Summer that is gone and past,
Vntill the first day of October last.
The armies neuer did together meet,
Nor scorce their eye-sight did each other greet:
The fault is neither in the foot or horse,
Of the right valiant braue Bohemian force,
From place to place they daily seeke the foe,
They march and remarch, watch, ward, ride, run, goe,
And grieuing so to waste the time away,
Thirst for the hazard of a glorious day.
But still the Enemy doth play boe peepe,
And thinkes it best in a whole skin to sleepe,
For neither martiall policie, or might,
Or any meanes can draw the foe to fight:
And now and then they conquer, speele and pillage,
Some for thatcht houses, or some pelting Village:
And to their trenches run away againe,
Where they like Foxes in their holes remaine,
Thinking by lingring out the warres in length,
To weaken and decay the Beamish strength.
This is the newes, which now I meane to books,
He that will needs haue more, must needs goe looke.
Thus leauing warres, and matters of high state.
To those that dare, and knowes how to relate,
I'le onely write, how I past heere and there.
And what I haue obserued euery where,
I'le truely write what I haue heard and eyed,
And those that will not so be satisfied,
I (as I meet them) will some tales deuise,
And fill their eares (by word of mouth) with lies:
THe Mouth that beares a mighty Emp'rers name,
(Augustus bight) I passed downe the streame,
Friday the fourth, just sixteene hundred twenty
Full Moone, the signe in Pisees, that time went I;
The next day being Saturday, a day,
Which all Great Brittaine well remember way,
When all with thankes doe annually combine,
Vntoth' Almighty maiesty diuine,
[Page 92]Because that day in a most happy season,
Our Soueraigne was preseru'd from Gouties treason;
Therefore to Churches people doe repaire,
And offer sacrifice of praise and prayer,
With Bels and be [...]fires, euery towne addressing.
And to our gracious King their loues expressing,
On that day, when in euery nooke and angle,
Fa [...]gets and banins smoak'd, and bels did [...]angle:
Onely at Graues end, (why I cannot tell)
There was no sparke of fire, or sound of bell,
Their [...]eepls, (like an instrument unstrung,)
Seem'd (as I wish all scolds) without a tongue.
Their bonfires colder then the greatest frost,
Or chiller then their charities (almost)
Which I perceiuing, said, I much did muse,
That Graues-end did forget the thankefull vse,
Which all the townes in England did obserue;
And cause I did the King of Britaine serue.
I and my fellow, forour Masters sake.
Would (neere the water side) ab [...]fire make;
With that a Scotchman, Tompson by his name.
Bestowed foure forgets to encrease the flame,
At which to kindle all a Graues-end Baker.
Bestowed his baui [...]e, and was our partaker:
We eighteene feete from any house retir'd,
Where we a Iury of good Faggots fir'd,
But e're the flames or scarce the smoake began,
There came the fearefull shadow of a man.
The Ghost or Image of a Constable,
Whose franticke actions (downeright dance-stable.)
Arm'd out of France and Spaine with Bacchus bounty:
(Of which there's plenty in the Kentish County)
His addle coxcombs with tobacco puff'd
His guts with [...] full bumbasted and stuff'd,
And though halfe blind, yet in a looking glasse,
He could perceiue the figure of an Asse:
And as his slauering chaps non since did flutter,
His breath (like to a jakes) a [...] did vtter,
His legs indenting scarcely could beare vp,
His drunken trunke (o'er charg'd with many a cup)
This riff raff rubbish that could hardly stand,
(Hauing a staffe of office in his hand.)
Came to vs as our fire began to smother,
Throwing some faggots one way, some another,
And in the Kings name did first breake the peace.
Commanding that our banfire should succease,
The Scotchman angry as this rudenesse done,
The scatlered faggots be againe layd on:
Which made the [...]my Constable goe to him,
And punch him on the brest, and outrage doe him:
At which a cuffe or twaine were giuen, or lent.
About the eares (which neither did content.)
But then to be are bow fearefull, be asse braid,
With what a hideous noyse be howld for ayde,
That all the [...] in Graues-end, in one houre,
Turn'd either good, bad, strong, small, sweet, or soure:
And then a kenuell of incarnate currs,
Hang'd on poore Thompson no like so many burrs;
Haling him vp the dirty streets, all foule.
(Like Diuels pulling a condemned foule)
The Iaylor (like the grand den' [...]) gladly sees.
And with an itching hope of [...]s and fees,
Thinking the Constable and his sweet selfe.
Might drinke and quaffe with that ill gotten pelfe
For why such beunds as these, may if they will,
Vnder the shew of good, turne good to ill,
And with authority the peace first breake,
With Lordly domineering [...] the weake,
Committing (oft) they care not whom or why,
So they may exercise themselues thereby.
And with the Iaylor share both fee and fine,
Drowning their damned gaine in smoaks and wine:
Thus hiredings Constables, and Iaylors may,
Abuse the Kings liege people night and day,
I say they may. I say not they doe so,
And they know best of they doe so or no,
They hal'd poore Thompson all along the street,
Tearing him that the ground scarce touch'd his feet,
Which be perceiuing did request them cease
Their rudenesse, vowing he would goe in peace,
He would with quietnesse goe where they would,
And prayed them from his throat to loose their held,
Some of the to townesmen did intreat them there,
That they their barbarous basenesse would forbeare,
But all intreaty was like oyle to fire,
Not quench'd but more inflam'd the scuruy Squire,
Then they fresh began to bale and teare,
(Like mungre [...] Mastiffes on a little Beare.)
Leauing kind Thompson neither foote or fist,
Nor any limb or member to resist.
Who being thus apprest with eds and might.
Most valiant with his teeth, began to bite,
Some by the fingers, others by the thumbs,
He fang'd within the cercust of his gummes;
Great pitty's was his chaps did neuer close,
On the halfe Constables, cheekes, eares, or nose:
His seruice had deseru'd reward to haue,
If he had mark'd the peasant for a Knaue:
Yet all that labour had away beene throwne,
Through towne and Country he's already knowne:
His prisoner he did beat, and spurn'd and kick'd,
He search'd his pockets, (Ile not say he pick'd)
And finding as he said no many there,
To heare how then the Bellweather did sweare,
And almost tearing Thompson into quarters,
Bound both his hands behind him with his garters,
And after in their rude robustians rags,
Tide both his feet, and cast him in the Cage,
There all night be remained in louzis litter,
Which for the Constable had beene much fitter,
Or for some vagaband (that's sprung from Caine.)
Some Rogue orrunnagate, should there haue laine,
[Page 93]And not a Gentleman that's well descended,
That did no hurt, nor any harme intended:
But for a bonfire in sit time and place,
Tobee abus'd and vs'd thus beastly base,
There did I leaue him tell the merrow day,
And how be scap'd their hands I cannot say.
This piece of Officer, this nasty parch,
(Whose vnderstanding sleepes out many a Watch)
[...]like a a towne bull, roaring up and downe,
Saying that we had meant to fire the towne;
And thus she Diuell his Master did deuise,
To baulster out his late abuse with lyes,
So all the street downe as I past along,
The people all about me in a throng.
Calling me villaine, traitor, rogue and thiefe,
Saying that I to fire their towne was chiefe.
There [...] wrongs as patient as I might,
Vowing my pen should ease me when I write;
Like to a grumbling cur, that sleepes on hay,
Eates none himselfe, driues other beasts away.
So this same fellow would not once expresse,
Vnto his Prince, a subiects ioyfulnesse,
But cause we did attempt at (as you see)
Himrsson'd Thompson, and thus slandered me.
Thus hauing cas'd my much inceused muse.
I craue the reader this one fault excuse,
For hauing vrg'd his patience all this some.
With such a scar [...]y Subiect and warse rims;
And thou Graues-endian officer take this,
And the [...] thy selfe, for all that written is.
'Tis not against the towns this tale I tell,
(For sure there doth some honest people dwell,)
But against thee thou Fiend is shape of man,
By whom this beastly outrage first began,
Which I could doe no lesse but let thee know,
And pay thee truely w [...]at I long did owe,
And now all's euen betwixt thou and I,
Then farewell and be hang'd, that's twice God bwye.

The first letters of his names are R L and his full name being [...]agramatiz'd is a A Trobeler, a trobeler he was to mee, and so, I feare he hath beene to my Reader.

Sunday the 26. August of wee set sayle from Graus end, and with various win les same large and some scarce, we happily past the Seas, and layled vp the Riuer of Maze, by the Brill, and on the Wednesday following I arriued at Roterdam in Holland, at which time the worthy Regiment of the right honourable Colonell Sir Horace veere, and the two noble Earles O Essex, and Oxford departed from thence in Mar [...]ll Equipage toward the Pallatinate Country, whose Heroick, and Mignanimous endeauours, I beseech the Lord of Hosts, and God of battels to direct and blesse.

The same day I went to the Hage, and from thence to Leiden, where I lodged all night, and the morrow being Thursday the 30. of August, I sayled from Leyden to Amsterdam, where I saw many things worthy the noting, but because they are so neere and frequent to many of our Nati­on, I omit to relate them, to auoid tediousnes: but on the Friday at night I got passage from thence toward Hambrogh, in a small hoy, in the which we were weather-beaten at Sea three dayes and nights before we arriued there.

Saturday the eighth of September I left Ham­brogh, and being carried day and night in Wag­gons, on the Monday night following I came to an ancient towne called Heldeshim, it standeth in Brunswicke Land, and yet it belongeth to the Byshop o [...] Collin, where I did obserue in their Doome Kirke, or Cathedral Church, a Crowne of siluer 80.foote in Compasse, hanged vp in the body of the Church, in the circuit of which crowne were placed 160. waxe Candles, the which at Festiuall dayes, or at the celebration of some high Ceremonies are lighted to lighten their darkenesse or their ignorance, chuse yee whether.

Moreouer, there I saw a siluer Bell in their Steeple, of thirty pound weight, and the Leades of their steeple shining and sparkeling with the Sunne beames, they did affirme to mee to bee gold, the truth of which I am doubtfull of.

In this towne I stayed foure dayes and on Fri­day the 14. of September, I went sixe Dutch miles to the strong towne of Brunswicke, where by reason of my short stay which was but two houres, I obserued nothing worthy of memo­ry, but their triple Wals, and double Ditches, there artillery and fortifications, which they thinke to be impregnable; besides, there I saw an old house of the Duke of Brunswicke, with the statue of a golden Lyon, of a great bignesse, standing aloft vpon a Piller, with the broken Wals, and houses, which the Dukes Canon hath left there sixe yeares since, as tokens and badges of his fury, and their rebellion.

From thence on the morrow, I went one Dutch mile further, to an ancient towne called [Page 94] Wolfunbottle, where the Duke of Brunswicke keepes his Court, in the which I and my fellow could get no further admittance, then ouer a bridge into his outtermost, or base Court; for his Souldiers seeing vs with Swords and Pistols, were fearefull, belike, that wee would haue taken the fortresse from them, and therefore though we were but two Englishmen, yet they durst not let vs enter; which made me call to remembrance the frequent, and dayly Egresse and Regresse, that all people haue to his Maiesties Court of Great Britaine, where none that are of any good fashion and aspect, are debat'd entrance: when those inferiour Princeshouses are guarded with hungry Halberdiers, and reuurend rusty bil-men, with a brace or two of hot-shots; so that their Pallaces are more like Prisons, then the free and Noble Courts of Commanding Potentates.

After two dayes entertainment at Wolfunbotle, with an English Marchant residing there, of good fame and credit, named Maister Thomas Saek­uile, I with my brother, my fellow Tilbery, and another man in my company, departed thither on foot onward on our iourney towards Bohe­mia, in which trauaile, what occurrences happe­ned, and what things of note I saw, were as fol­loweth.

Passing with many weary steps through the townes of Rosondink, Remling, Soulem, Hassen, Darsam, and Haluerstadt, (which is all in Brun­swicke land,) but this towne of Haluerstadt be­longs to a Byshop so stiled, who is Duke Christi­an brother to the now Duke of Brunswicke, a long Dutch mile (or almost sixe English) is a small towne or a Blecke called Groning belonging to the Duke, in the which place I obserued two things worthy of remembrance.

First a most stately Pallace built with a beauti­full Chappell, so adorned with the Images and Formes of Angels and Cherubins, with such ex­quisitenesse of arts best industry of caruing, gra­uing, guilding, painting, glazing and pauing, with such superexcellent workemanship of Or­gans, Pulpit, and Font, that for curiositie and admirable rarenesse, all the Buildings and Fa­bricks that euer I beheld, must giue it prehemi­nence. I confesse that Henry the seuenths Chap­pell at Westminster, Kings Colledge Chappell in Cambridge, and Chaist Church in Canterbury, are beyond it in height and workemanship of stone [...] for indeed this Chappell is most of wood gipps, and plaster of Paris; but it is so guilded as if it had beene made in the golden age, when gold was esteemed as Drosse, so that a man had need to weare a vaile ouer his dazeling eyes, or else he can hardly looke vpon it.

The caruing and painting seeme to out goe the arts of Pigmalion, Apelles, or Praxiitles, the pauing of the chequered blacke and white marble, and the windowes glassed with Chry­stall: but all this great cost and shew is very little to the honour of God, or the propogation of the Gospell, the edification of the ignorant. For in this Church of case, there is no Seruice. If the painted Pulpit could preach, the dumbe Images might (perhaps) haue a Sermon now and then, for scarce at any time there comes any body into the Chappell, but a fellow that shewes the beau­ty of it for two pence or three pence a peece.

In the same house, in a place or Cellet built of purpose, is a great tonne or Vessell of wood, that was 7. yeares in making, & was vsed to be fil­led with Rhenish wine: it is said to be twice as big as the vessell at Heidelberg, and the hoops of it are twelue inches thicke, and the staues or border of it being as much; I went vp to the top of it with a Ladder of 18. steps, he that keepes it faith it will hold 160. tonnes. My fellow Tilbery did creepe in at the tap hole; it is in length thirty two foor, and in breadth a crosse 19. and verily I thinke that bable cost more money the making, then would haue built a good ship, or founded an Almes house for 6. poore people.

This is a Tub of Tubs, Tub of Tubs hall,
Who ne're had fellow yet nor euer shall;
O had but Diogenes but had this a ton,
He would had thought that he more roome had won,
Then Alexanders Conquests, or the bounds,
Of the vast Ocean and the solid grounds.
Or had Cornelius but this tub, to drench
His Clients that had practis'd too much French,
A thousand hogsheads then would haunt his sirkin,
And Mistris Minks recouer her lost mirkin.
This mighty Caske great Bacchus vs'd to stride,
When he to drunkards hall did often ride.
[Page 95]And in this barrell he did keepe his Court,
[...]ng himsefe in R [...]en [...]sh f [...]rd sport.
But now these eight yeares it hath dry beene kept;
In it the wine God hath not p [...]st or wept;
That now the Chappell, and the Caske combine,
One hath no preaching, t'other hath no wine.
And now the vse they put it to is this,
Tisshew'd for mony, as the Chappell is.

From Groning wee trauailed to a Towne cal­led Ashers Leauen, to Ashleauen, to Kinderne, to Hall, and so to Le pzig, which is one of the chie­fest townes in Saxony, being famous for a yearely Mart that is yearely held there, where to Mer­chants and other people from the most part of Christendome haue annuall concourse: in this towne we stayd two dayes, and taking our leaue then of some English Merchants, who vsed vs kindly, we there would hauehired a coach or waggon to Prague; but all the Saxen coach men and carters were afraid to looke vpon any part of Bohemia, because their Duke is a profest enemy in armes against the King of Beame, so that we were forced to hire a fellow with a wheele barrow 2. dayes to carry our cloaks, swords, guns, pistols, & other apparell & luggage which were our neces­saries, to a towne called Boorne, to Froburge and so to another towne called Penigh, where we ca­shierd our one wheel'd coach, & hired a cart with two, which carried both vs and our baggage to Chemnizt another towne in Saxony, from whence to a place called Shop wee were faine to be our owne sumpter horses walking on foot to the last towne in Saxony, called Marienberg. From thence passing vp and downe inaccessable moun­taines, we came to a wood, which parts Bohemia from Saxony on the west; which wood is c [...]led by the people of those parts the Beamer Wolts or Wolt, and is in breadth ten English miles, and in length further then I know how to discribe true­ly: but this much of it I dare aff [...], that it is a naturall inpregnable wall to the kingdome of Bohem, which kingdome is all incompast round with woods and mountaines, so that there is no passage on that side of it, for any army to enter into it with munition and artillery, all the wayes being vneuen, and the mountaine tops all boggs, mosses, and quagmires, that great Ordnance or any heauy cariage either of horse, cart or wag­gon, with s [...]ke and be lost. Besides, there are numbers past numbring of Firre trees, many standing, and such store fallen of themselues, that any passage might easily be stopped by laying thē crosse the way. And of all my iourny, the trauell through that dismall wood was the most heauy vnto me, for the trees grew so thicke, and so high, that the S [...] was obscured, and the day seemed [...]igh [...]; in some places, the way paued with swim­ming trees 2. miles together on the tops of Hils, which now and then I st [...]pping beside, sunke to middle in a Q [...]g [...]nire.

When we had thus footed it, and trauailed past the hils & woods, (being at the least 4.houres toyle) and that we might looke downe the moun­taines, into the fruitfull Land of Bohem, neuer did sight more reioyee vs, the lower Hils being all full of Vineyards and the Val [...]yes corne and pa­sture; not an English mile distance, but a vil­lage euery way; and 20.30. or 40.reckes or stacks of corne which their barnes cannot hold, in the space of euery houres iourney: in a word, euery thing that belonged to the vse and commodity of man was and is there, and all the delightfull obiects to satisfie euery sence, is there abundant­ly so that nature seemed to make that Country her store house or granary, for there is nothing wanting, except mens gratitude to God for such blessings. The first night we lodged there at a pretty towne called Comoda, which towne, by negligence and occasion of fire, had fifty houses burnt, two dayes before our comming thither, it beeing eleuen Dutch miles from Pragus. There we hired a waggon 7 dutch miles to a towne called Slowne from whence we walked on foot along 16. English miles to Prague, which long looked for Citty wee could not see vntill we came within an houres trauell of it: within halfe a dutch mile is a fearefull place, being fre­quented with inhumaine and barbarous murder­rers, that assault trauellers, first shooting and murdring them, & after searching their pockets, where if they haue mony or not, all is one, it is but so many slaine: for these villains haue a wood and a deepe valley to shelter themselues in, that they are hardly taken afterwards; but if they chance at any time to be but apprehended, they [Page 96] are racked & tortured to make them confesse, & afterwards their executions are very terrible, But (I thanke God) we past that place, & many other as dangerous as that, where some were robbed & murdered (as report told vs) both before, vs be­hind vs, and on each side: and we saw in our iour­ny aboue. score Gallowses and wheeles, where theeues were hanged some fresh, and some halfe rotten, & the carkases of murtherers, broken limb after limb on the wheeles; and yet it was our hap­pines only to see the dead villaines, & escape the liuing. I came into Prague on Thursday the 7. of September, whither if I had come but the Friday before, I had seene a most fearfull execution of a notorious offenders, the manner how, with their faults, as it was truely related to me by English Gent. that saw it: I think it not much impertinent to relate. The one of them being taken, appre­hended and racked, for ripping vp a liue woman with child, & for taking the infant out of her bo­dy, did sow a liuing puppy into her belly; all w ch he confessed he did, to make properties for witch craft: and being further tortured, he confessed when and where he had commited 35. murthers more: the other in respect of him was but a pet­ty offender, for he in all his lifetime had murthe­red but 14. For the which execrable facts, their deserued executions were as followeth: First, they were brought out of the Iayle naked from the girdle vpward; and so being bound fast on high in a Cart, that the spectators might see them; then the Hangman hauing a pan of coales neere him, with red hot pincers nip'd off the nipple of one breast; then he tooke a knife and giues him a flash or cut downe the backe on one side from the shoulder to the wast; and presently gaue him such another flash, three inches from the first, then on the top he cut the flashes into one; and present­ly taking pincers, tooke hold of the crosse cut, & tore him downe like a Girse below the middle, letting it hang downe behind him like a belt: af­ter which he tooke his burning pincers, & pluck'd of the tops of his fingers of one hand: then pas­sing to another place of the Towne, his other nip­ple was plucked off, the other side of his backe so cut and mangled, (which they call by the name of rimming, (if it had beene riming, I would ne­uer haue written but in prose) his other fingers nip'd off, then passing further all his toes were nip'd off with the burning pincers, after which he was enforced to come out of the Cart, and goe on foote vp a steepehill to the Gallowes, where he was broken with a wheale, aliue, one bone after another, beginning at his legs and ending with his necke, and last of all quartered and layd on the wheele, on a high post, till Crowes, Rauens, or consuming time consume him.

This was the manner of both their executions, but I speake of the greatest murtherer particular­ly, because it is reported that all these torments neuer made him once to change countenance, or to make any signe or action of griefe, to call to God for mercy, or to intreat the people to pray for him; but as if be had beene a sencelesse stocke or stone, hee did most scornafully, and as it were in disdaine abide it; whilst the other villaine did cry, rore, and make lamentation, calling vpon God often; the difference was not much in their liues, and manner of their deaths, but I am perswaded the odds was great in their dying.

The Citty of Prague is almost circular or round, being diuided in the middle by the Riuer of Mol­doue, ouer which is a faire stone Bridge, of 600. paces ouer, and at each and a strong gate of stone: there is said to be in it of Churches & Chappels, 150.for there are great numbers of Catholiques, who haue many Chappels dedicated to sundry S ts. and I was there at 4.senerall sorts of diuine exercises, viz. at good Sermons with the Prote­stants, at Masse with the Papists, at a Lutherans preaching, & at the Iewes Synagog; 3.of which I saw & heard for curiosity, & the other for edifica­tion. The Iewes in Prague, are in such great num­bers, that they are thought to be of men, women and children, betwixt 50. or 60000. who doe all liue by brocage and vsury vpon the Christians, and are very rich in mony and Iewels, so that a man may see 10. or 12.together of them, that are accounted worth 20.30 or 40000.l.a piece; and yet the slaues goe so miserably attired, that 15. of them are not worth the hanging for their whole ward-ropes.

The Castle where the King and Queene doe keepe their Court, is magnificent and sumpru­ous in building, strongly scituated and for­tified [Page 97] [...] by nature and art, being founded on a high [...], so that at pleasure it keepes the towne in command, and it is much mere spacious in [...] for receipt in Gardens & Orchards, then the Towre of London. I was in it dayly the space of 20 dayes, and saw it royally graced with the presence of a gracious King & Queene, who were honorably attended by a gallant Courtly traine of Lords and Ladies, and Gentles of the High Dutch and Bohemians, & where was free & boun­ [...] entertainment to strangers in aboundance: I must euer humbly and thankfully acknowledge the Queenes Maiesties goodnesse towards me, whole vndeserued fauours were helpfull vnto me both there, and in my tedious iourny homeward. Moreouer there I saw (& had in mine armes) the King and Queenes youngest Son Prince Robert, who was borne there on the 16.of December last: a goodly child as euer I saw of that age, whom with the rest I pray God to blesse; to his glory and his Parents joy and comfort.

There for a token I did thinke it meet,
To take the shooes from off this Prince his feet:
I doe not say I stole, but I did take,
And whil'st I liue, Ile keepe them for his sake:
Long may his Grace liue to be styl'd a man,
And then Ile steale his bootes too, if I can.
The shooes were vpright shooes, and so was he
That more them, from all harme vpright and free:
He vs'd them for their vse, and not for pride,
He neuer wrong'd them, or e're trode aside.
Lambskin they were, as white as Innocence,
(True patternes for the foot steps of a Prince,)
And time will come (as I doe hope in God)
He that in childhood with these shooes was shod,
Shall with his manly feet once trample downe,
All Antichristian foes to his renowne.

The Citty of Prague hath in it (by reason of the wars) thrice the number of its owne Inhabitants, and yet for all that, victuals is in such great plen­ty, that sixe men cannot eate three halfe penny worth of bread, and I did buy in the Market a fat Goose well roast for the valew of 9. pence Eng­lish, and I and my brother haue dined there at a Cookes with good roasted meat, bread & beere, so that we haue beene satisfied and left, for the va [...] of fiue pence: a good Turky there may bee bought for two shillings, and for fresh fish I ne­uer saw such store, for in one market day I haue knowne in Prague 2000. Carps, besides other fi­shes, which Carps in London are fiue shillings a piece, & there they were for 8. pence or 10.pence at the most, so that one of their fresh fish markets here, were worth at the least 5. or 600. pounds, and as for all other manner of wilde fowle, they are there in fatiety, besides their fruites are in such aboundance, that I bought a basket of Grapes of the quantity of halle a pecke for a penny and farthing, and a hatfull of faire Peaches for as much, pickled cowcombers I haue bought a pecke for three pence, and muskmellions, there hath beene cast fiue or sixe ca [...] [...] load of them in one day to their hogs.

As concerning the dyet that is in the Kings Armies, I could neuer yet heare any man com­plaine of want, but that it is more plentifull then in the Citty, the greatest scarcitie hath beene to some sick souldiers, who being not able to march with the Leaguers (by reason of their weaknesse) they haue beene left amongst the Boores, or Hus­bandmen in the next villages, where their Lan­guages not vnderstood, their succor hath bin but small, but for all this in the Campe hath euer bin a continuall cheapenes of all things, the King most duely paying his Souldiers at the end of e­uery month, hauing in his great Leaguer, vnder the conduct of the Princes of Hollock and Anhalt of foot and horse 43000. and at the least of carts and waggons to carry prouision, and baggage for the Army, to the number of 18000. In his little Leaguer, vnder the leading of Count Mans­felt, there are of Foot and Horse 7000.besides Carts and Waggons for carriage, and yet for these great numbers of men and beasts, there is food in all aboundance.

In the Campe with Graue Mansfelt is the Brit­taine Regiment vnder the Col. Sir Andrew Gray Knight, and in Prague I met with many worthy Gentlemen and Souldiers which were there sicke, as the worthy Captaine Bushell, Lieute­nant Grimes, Lieutenant Langworth, Ancient Galbreath, Ancient Vandenbrooke, Master Whitney Master Blundell, and others, all which did most courteously entertaine me, vnto whom I must e­uer rest thankfull, and they do affirme that now it [Page 98] hath it pleased God to grant their Souldiers re­couerie, that they doe hope euery Britaine Soul­dier doth retaine more good spirit, then three e­nemies of what nation soeuer.

Thus hauing shewed part of the best things in Bohemia, the Court and City of Prague, it shall not bee amisse if I relate a little merrily, of some things there tolerable, some intolerable, some naught, and some worse then naught; for as eue­ry Rose hath a prickle, and euery Bee a sting, so no earthly Kingdome hath such perfection of goodnesse but it may bee iustly taxed with im­perfections.

PRague is a famous ancient, Kingly seate,
In scituation and in state compleate,
Rich in aboundance of the earths best treasure,
Proud and high minded beyond bounds or measure,
In Architecture stately; in Attire,
Beizonians Ple [...]beians doe aspire,
To be apparell'd with the stately port
Of Worship, Honour, or the Royall Court;
Their Coaches, and Caroches are so rise,
They doe attend on euery trades-mans wife,
Whose Husbands are but in a meane regard
And get their liuing by the Ell or Yard,
How euer their Estates may bee defended,
Their wiues like demy Ladies are attended:
I there a Chimney-sweepers wife haue seene,
Habilimented like the Diamond Queene,
Most gaudy garish, as a fine Maid-marrian,
With breath as sweet as any suger carrion,
With sattin cloak, lin'd through with budg, or sable,
Or cunny furre, (or what her purse is able)
With veluet hood, with tiffanies, and purles,
Rebatees. frizlings, and with powdred curles,
And (lest her hue or sent should be attainted,)
She's antidoted, well perfum'd and painted,
She's fur'd she's fring'd. she's lac'd, and at her wast:
She's with a massie chaine of siluer brac'd,
She's yallow staach'd, and ruff'd, and cuff'd, and muff'd,
She's ring'd, she's braceleted she's richly tuff'd,
Her petticote, good silke as can be bought,
Her smock about the tale lac'd round and wrought,
Her gadding legges are finely Spanish booted,
The whilst her husband like d a slaue all sooted,
Lookes like A Courtier to infernall Pluto,
And knowes himselfe to be a base cornuto.
Then since a man that liues by Chimney sweepe,
His wife so gaudy richly clad doth keepe,
Thinke then but how a Merchants wife may go
Or how a Burgamasters wife doth show;
There (by a kinde of topsieturuy vse,)
The women weare the bootes, the men the shooes,
I know not if's be profit or else pride,
But sure th'are oft'ner ridden then they ride:
These females seeme to be most valiant there,
Their painting shewes they doe no colours scare,
Most Art-like plastring Natures imperfections,
With sublimated, white and red complexions;
So much for Pride I haue obserued there,
Their other faults, are almost euery where.

Thus hauing staid in Prague almost 3 weekes, I returned from thence homeward, on Tuesday, the 26. of September, hauing in my company a widow (and foure small children) whose Hus­band beeing an Englishman and the Kings Brewer for Beere, deceased, and was buried there in Prague whilst I was there: the good de­solate woman hauing receiued reward after se­uen yeares Seruice there and at Heidelbergh, bee­ing desirous to returne to her Country ( England) came with vs, with my brother, and my fellow Tilbery. We tooke two Coaches at the Castle of Prague, and in a day and halfe, we were carried 7. Dutch miles, to a Towne in Bohemia (standing on the riuer of Elue) called Leutmeritz, at w ch towne we all layd our moneyes together, and bought a boat of 48. foot in length, and not 3. foote in bredth, and because we did not know the riuer, we hired a Bohemian waterman to guide vs 15. dutch miles, to the Towne of Dreason in Saxony. But 4, miles short of that Towne, which was the first Towne in the Saxon Country, called Pirne, where we were stayed 5. houres without the Gates, till such time as the Burgamaster would be pleased to examine vs: in the meane space our waterman (not daring to abide the terrible tryall of exami­nation, because the Duke of Saxon was in Armes against the King of Beame, he ran away, and left vs to bring the boat downe the riuer 600. Eng­lish miles our selues to Hamburgh

But now to close vp all, I will relate what rare dyet, excellent cookery, and sweet Lodging we had in our journey in Germany: first, for our [Page 99] comfort, after very hard getting of houseroome our lodginge was euery night in straw, where ly­ing together well littered, we honestly alwayes left our sheets behinde vs: then at our suppers at a table square, and so broad, that two men can hardly shake hands ouer it, we being some twelue about it. Our first dish being a raw Cabbadge, of the quantity of halfe a pecke, cut and chopped small, with the fat of resty bacon powred vpon it in stead of oyle, which dish must be emptied be­fore we could get any more: Our second dish per­haps a peoke of boyld apples & hony, the Apples being boyled skins, cores, stalkes & all: Thirdly 100. Gudgeons newly taken perhaps, yet as salt as if they had beene three years pickled, or twice at the East Iadies, boyld with scayles, guts and all, and buried in Ginger like sawdust: a fresh pike as salt as brine, boyld in flat milke, with a pound of Garlicke. This was the manner of the most part of our dyet; and if we did aske them why they did salt their meate so vnreasonable, there answer was, that their beere could not be consumed, except their meate were salted ex­traordinarily.

If a man finde a fault or seeme distasted with there beastly dyet, he is in danger to be thrust out of doores, and take vp his lodging in the streets, and in the conclusion when dinner or supper is ended, then comes mine Host, or his leather lip'd Froe, with a sawcy reekoning of what they please, which sounds in our eares like a harsh Epilogue, after a bad play; for what they say we must pay, their words are irreuoca­ble (like the ancient Kings of Persia) and we must not question or aske how and how it can be so much, but pay them their demand without grum­bling, to halfe a farthing.

Which made mee call to miad sixe seuerall principals, that doe belong to a traueller, as pa­tience, silence, warinesse, watchfulnesse and a good stomacke, and a purse well moneyed; for if he want any one of these, (perhaps) the other fiue will neuer bring him to his iournies end. A mans patience must be such, that (though he be a Barron) he must beare all abuses, either in words, lodging, diet, or almost any thing, though offered from or by a sowter, tinker, or a Merchant of tripes and turneps; his silence must be, that though he beare and vnderstand himselfe wron­ged, yet he must be as dumbe as a Gudgeon or a Wniting mop: and though his mouth be shut, his warinesse must be such, that his eares must be euer open, to listen and ouer-heare all danger that may be complotted against him, his wate [...] ­fulnesse must be so, that he must seldome sleepe with both his eyes at once, least his throat be cut before he wake againe. But for his stomacke, hee must eate grasse with a horse, and draffe with the hogs, for hee that cannot eate pickel'd herring broth, and dirty puddings, shall many times fast by authority, and goe to bed without his supper: and last of all he must haue Fortunatus or a Prince, his purse, that must be (like a Drunkards dagger) euer drawne, to pay bountifully for such wash and graines, as his valiant stomacke hath ouer­come, conquered and deuoured; but of this a little in verse.

Sixe things vnto a Trauailer belongs,
An Asses backe, t' abide and beare all wrongs:
A fishes tongue (mute) grudging speech forbearing.
A Harts quick eare all dangers ouer hearing,
A dogs eyes, that must wake as they doe sleepe,
And by such watch his corpes from perill keepe.
A swines sweet homely tast that must digest
All Fish, Flesh, Rootes, Fowle, foule and beastly drest;
And last, he must haue euer at his call
A purse well lynde with coyne to pay for all.

With this kinde of lodging and dyer, and with tedious labour sometimes night and day; wee came in 14. dayes 607. miles from Prague in Bo­hemia, to Hambrogh on the hither skirts of Ger­many, the Riuer hauing aboue 1000. shelues and sands, and 800. Ilands, so that a man cannot see on which side of them to goe, there being 240. mils chained in boats on the first streame, and a number numberlesse of Oakes & other trees sunke with the violence of the Riuer, and sometimes fogs & mists that we could not see a boats length from vs: besides great Rockes, and stones that were falne into the water, that any or many of these impediments do often ouerthrow boates, & drown passengers; yet I, & my fellow Tilbery (we being both his Maiesties watermen) did by Gods assistance safely escape them all, and brought our selues, as is afore said, to Hamborogh, where [Page 100] being windebound 10. dayes, I thanke the Eng­lish Merchants, I was well welcommed, vntill a [...]st it pleased God, the winde came faire, I [...]oke ship, and after nine dayes and nights of various weather (I giue praise to the Almighty) I came home to my house in London on Saturday the 28. of September, 1620.

You that haue bought this, grieue not at the cost,
There's something worthy your noting, all's not lost,
First halfe a Constable is well bumbasted,
If there were nothing else, your coynes not wasted,
Then I relate of hils, and dales, and downes,
Of churches, Chappels, Pallaces, and Townes,
And then to make amends (although but small)
I tell a tale of a great tub withall,
With many a Gallowes, Gybbet and wheele [...]
Where murd'rers bones are broke from head to
How rich Bohemia is in wealth and food,
Of all things which for man or beast is good.
How in the Court at Prague'a Princely place,
A gracious Queene vouchsafed me to grace,
How on the sixteenth day of August last,
King Fredericke to his royall Army past,
How fifty thousand were in armes araid,
Of the Kings force, beside t' Hungarian ayde,
And how Bohemia strongly can appose,
And cuffe and curry all their daring foes.
Then though no newes of state may heere be had,
I know here's something will make good men glad,
No bringer of strange tales I meane to be,
Nor Ile beleeue none that are told to me
FINIS.

PRINCE CHARLES HIS VVEL COME FROM SPAINE: Who Landed at Portsmouth on Sunday the 5. of October, and came safely to London on Munday the 6. of the same, 1623. WITH The Triumphs of LONDON for the same his happie Arriuall. And the Relation of such Townes as are scituate in the wayes to take post-horse at, from the Citie of London to Douer: and from Callice through all France and Spaine, to Madrid, to the Spanish-Court.

AFter great Britaine (ouerwhelmed with doubts, hopes, feares, and most carefull, louing and dutifull Iealousie) had dolourously droo­ped and mounted in a robe of me­lancholy 8.monethlong, for the absence our hope­full, vnparaleld, & illustrious Prince Charles, each minute of whole vnexpected and vnthought of Iourney from hence, seeming a tedious torture to millions of louing and wel-wishing hearts, whose happy and wel-comes home doth like the radi­ant Sun expell all the dismall and moody clouds of griefe and melancholy; to the vniuersall joy of his Royall Father, and all his loyall Subiects, ha­uing passed so long and tedious a Iourney, so much change of ayre and varieties of dyet, (pre­serued by the Almighties especiall prouidence) from all dangers and casualties that might any way impeach his Highnesse health, or preiudice is Princely person, in any of his affaires.

After his Highnesse stay from the 7. of March with his Catholike Maiestie at his Court at Ma­drid with the great and magnificent Entertain­ments, Feastings, Maskings, Banquetings, Hun­tings, Hawkings, and diures other royall pleasant, laudable, costly sumptuous, and manly disports, and exercises, wherewith the King, the Queene, the faire, vertuous and louely Lady Maria, (the highborne Infanta) his highnesse hauing all the content and welcome which so potent a Monarch could any way expresse, or our gracious Prince expect: Then to ease our common griefe, & to re­uiue our halfe dead hopes, it pleased his grace to take his leaue of Madrid & passingby easie Iour­nies on his way, accōpanied some partby the King after whose departure from his Highnesse was at­tended by certaine of the Graundes of Spaine, so that in 13. or 14. dayes space, his Highnesse came in perfect health to the Portof Saint Anderas, in the Prouince of Biscay, where when our English [Page 102] Fleet had knowledge of his long look'd for and welcome comming, then did the hearts of euery man leap within him for ioy, their eyes ouer­flowed with teares of louing and dutifull affecti­on, their voices shooted with acclamations. The great Ordnance thundered and filled the earth & skyes with loud reioycings, the trumpets clangor pierced the welkin, the beaten drums ratled try­umphantly, all manner of Instruments sounded melodiously, and to better and sweeten all the rest, his Highnesse most graciously accepted their loues mutually and thankefully. But blu­string Boreas, with his brother Eurus (the North and East winde) blew most stifly and, churlish­ly detained our joy and happinesse from vs here in Britaine. So that neuer any louing mother desired with more longing to see her hopefull Sonne, whose long absence had fild her with griefe, then all the honest Inhabitants of this Kingdome did hunger and thirst to see or heare from their most hopeful and beloued Prince. With what greedy desire did many thousands (as it were) nayle their eye sights dayly vpon Fanes, Weather-cocks, the smoke of Chim­neyes, and the Racking of the Cloudes; and for fifteene long dayes and nights, the thwartouer and crosse North and Easterly Winde blew vs nothing but lengthening of our Sorrowes, and delaying of our comforts, vntill at last on Fri­day the third of October last it pleased the great Archmaster of windes and Seas, to tutne the breath of Eolus the way we most heartily prayed for: So that his Highnesse speedily taking aduan­tage of this most happy and prosperous Gale; Anchors were soone weighed, Sailes suddainely displayed and by the prouidence of the Almigh­ty, and the diligent industry of the skilfull Naui­gators and Martiners, his Highnesse most safe­ly Landed at Portsmouth in Hampshire, on Sun­day the fifth of October, betwixt the houres of three and foure in the afternoone, where he tooke Coach and came that night and Lodged neere Guilford in Surrey, 25. miles from London, at the house of the Right Honourable the Lord Vis­count Anuan's.

The happy newes of his Highnesse most wel­come arivall, was brought to London on Monday being the sixth of October, and shortly after the same morning hee came in person himselfe, ta­king Barge at Lambeth with the Duke of Buck­ingham, followed by the Archbyshop of Canter­bury, and diuers other; whence he past to Yorke ­house, betwixt eight and nine of the clocke, where hee hauing taken some repast, hee tooke Coach againe to goe towards his Royall Fa­ther, to reioyce his heart with his Princely pre­sence.

The ioyfull newes of his happy returne filled the whole Kingdome with excessiue ioy; first his most royall Father had a chiefe share in the comfort: Secondly, many of his good Seruants, who were almost with griefe for his long ab­sence like so many bodies without life: but now they are all relieued by his welcome presence, with the spirits of mirth and alacrity. But the City of London, in expression of their louing duties, haue spared for no cost, eyther generall or particular.

THe Bels proclaim'd aloud in euery Steeple,
The ioyfull acclamations of the people.
The Ordnance thundred with so high a straine,
As if great Mars they meant to entertaine.
The Bonfires blazing, infinite almost,
Gaue such a heat as if the world did roast.
True mirth and gladnesse was in euery face,
And healths ran brauely round in euery place:
That sure I thinke this sixt day of October
Ten thousand men will goe to bed scarce (&c.)
This was a day all dedicate to Mirth,
As 'twere our Royall CHARLES his second birth.
And this day is a Iewell well return'd,
For whom this Kingdome yesterday so mourn'd
God length his dayes who is the cause of this,
And make vs thankfull for so great a blisse.

The whole day being spent thus in mirth, tri­umphs, and thanksgiuing, wherein the people of all degrees, from the highest to the lowest, both rich and poore in London, Westminster, and the Suburbs, to their powers exprest their loues: that not so much but the foure Elements, Fire, Water, Ayre, and Earth, seemed to applaud the celebration of this happy and welcome day, for the Heauens most aboundantly powred downe a shower of raine of nine houres continuance, [Page 103] which the dry and thirsty earth dranke most gree­ddy or as I may say most louingly, to the health of so joyfull and auspicious a solemnitie. The fire (or fires) in all places, Streets, Lanes, Courts, and Corners,(despight the Raine, or enuying that it should quench the flaming ardency of its tran­ [...]dent Loue) ascended vpwards in shew of thankefulnesse: and the vast, empty, and subtle Ayre, was filled with the shours and acclamati­ons of people, with the reioycing noyles of In­struments, Ordnance, Muskets, Bels, Drums, and Trumpets. And further I heard it credibly repor­ted, that there was one Bonefire made at the Guildhall in London, which cost one hundred pounds (belike it was some Logwood which was prohibited and vnlawfull to bee vsed by Dy­ers and being forfeited, was ordained to be burnt in tryumph:) But (as good cause we had) the day was commanded to be kept holiday, so that no shops were opened, no manner of worke was done from morning to night, but carying and re­carying Wood to make Bonfires, ringing, filling & emptying of pots, tha [...]al seemed as if the world was newly preserued from some second Flood (as indeed our whole Kingdome was from a flood of griefe) to the sale & happy hauen of happinesse.

Moreouer his Highnesse happy and ioyfull comming on that day, was a putting off an execu­tion which sixe men and two women condem­ned male factors were to suffer at Tyburne, wher­by hee was the most fortunate cause of their re­prieues and sauing, and a larger time of repen­tance to amend their iiues.

The very Vintners burnt their bushes in Fleet­street and other places, and their wine was burnt (all ouer London and Westminster) into all colours of the Rainebow, whole Pints, Quarts, Pottles, and Gallons, were made into Bonefires of Sacke and Claret, whilst good fellowes like louing Salamanders swallowed those liquid fires most sweetly and affectionately. But as concer­ning this fuell of Bacchus, a great many would not stay, or could not endure to see it burnt, and so deuoured those French and Spanish Billets and Faggots raw, which afterwards being war­med with shooting, laughing, singing and Lea­ping, the heat burst out so hotly, that it appeared in many a high coloured face, till in the end the fire was quenched in the embers and ashes of sleepe.

And to the intent all estates should be merry, there were diuers Noblemen, Gentlemen, and other, that gaue store of gold to the poore, some gaue vessels of wine in the streets.

Thu, was the whole day spent, till the darke night came, and then began the second part of Englands joy: for the nights Loue did as it were scorne to be outstripped with the dayes affection and obedience. Amongst the rest, the Spanish Ambassadors, both at Exeter house in the Strand, and at Ely house in Holborne, did expresse their Loues by their charges and reioycings.

Then began a most merry and ioyfull confusi­on of Billets, Faggots, Bauins, and Logs, Bas­kets, buckets, and tubs were hotly and merrily consumed, Buts, Pipes, Hogsheads, Teirces, pun­cheons, Barrels, Kilderkins, Firkins, Ru [...]lets, and Dryfats most brauely blazed and suffered; Some in Smithfield burnt their old Coaches, (and I wish they had all beene so well bestowed) wash­ing boules, and beetles went to wracke, old gra­ters and stooles were turn'd to ashes, mouse-traps and tinder boxes came tolight, and hee or shee that had but foure tokens or as much credit, com­mitted their whole estate to fire and faggot; in­somuch that Chandlers-shops and store-houses, were almost willingly emptied. But in Paules Churchyard was exceeding benighted tryumphs for on the crosse round about were placed, on the batlements and on the top of it as many bur­ning Linkes, as the Prince his Hignesse was yeares old: and in some good distance from the Crosse, were two mighty bone fires; besides there was a crosse of wood erected which extended in­to foure branches, and vpon euery branch a pitch barrel was fastned, and one in the middest on the top, which made a braue shew in the burning [...] then were there Cr [...]ssit Lights, and most excel­lent fire-workes, with squibs, cracker, rackets, which most delightfully flew, euery way. And it is certaine to be proued, that betwixt Paules Churchyard and London bridge in the nearest way that could be gone, there were 108. Bone­fires told, many of them hauing at least one Load of wood in each, some lesse: I speake not of othe Streets Lanes which are out of that [Page 104] way, besides the Strand, Westminster, and Holborne, with hundreds of places which I saw not.

All these and much more was done here in London, Westminster, and the adioyning pla­ces, nor is it to be doubted but that all Cities, Townes, and Villages, will generally and parti­culary shew their louing obedience and affecti­ons.

Here is set forth the long and te­dious Iourney, with the seuerall stages or pla­ces where men take Post-horse quite through the Spacious Kingdome of France; and so throughout into Spaine, to the Citty of Ma­drid, being in all 141. seuerall stages or Poste­Towns, some 8, some 10.12. or 16. miles from each other, being in all about 1100. miles.

  • London
  • Saint Leu
  • Darford
  • Lufarder
  • Rochester
  • Escouen
  • Sittingbourne
  • Saint Dennis
  • Canterbury
  • PARIS
  • Douer
  • La Burlarayur
  • CALLICE
  • Longuemeaux
  • Le Bison
  • Chator
  • Marquessa
  • Bonur
  • Bulloigne
  • Estampe
  • Newchattell
  • Guillerua,
  • Franeaz
  • Angueruille
  • Montruell
  • Shaupillary
  • Newpon
  • Shate [...]gaillad
  • Bernai
  • Artenay
  • Noieane
  • Sercott
  • Abeuille
  • ORLEANC [...]
  • Aillyle hanc dordes
  • Saint Minion
  • Flaircourt
  • Nostra Dama
  • Piguigny
  • de Clara.
  • Amiens
  • Lestroya shemina
  • Hancourt.
  • Le Laurena der [...]ux
  • Flaire
  • Maide
  • Briteur
  • Mondinaux
  • Rauigny
  • BLOIS
  • Saint Remy
  • Les Montriba
  • Cleremont
  • Lambin
  • R [...]ucellei
  • Mont Richard
  • Vr Leige Lochez
  • Vr voya de Lion
  • Varenur
  • Cusac
  • Liguer
  • Le port de Crussac
  • La bay
  • Le Charbon blanc
  • Perlane
  • Le port de la Ba.
  • Shatibben
  • stil
  • La Tredeuir
  • BOVRDEAVX
  • Chaffener
  • Le petit Bur­deaux
  • POICTIERS
  • Rufigni
  • Hauborre
  • Vr porte Ai [...]utete
  • Troia
  • Vinour
  • Pooter
  • Vmenicur
  • Belleene
  • Couer
  • Muret
  • Chour
  • Allispostel
  • Chouffa
  • Le Brouheer
  • Villafoignant
  • Ien Guiller
  • Aiger
  • Laharee
  • Gouruille
  • Les Sperroone
  • St. Seuerdeau x
  • Chastel
  • Villara
  • Maior
  • Chasteauneuf
  • Saint Vincent
  • Nonnauille
  • Le Cabalon
  • Barbefieux
  • Les Anders
  • Raignar
  • Vnposte Aioutee
  • La Grole
  • BAYON
  • Mou Lien
  • Bidarbe
  • Plonte Balc
  • S. Ian de Luz
  • Chauignon
  • Arinanat

What Townes are named in this Catalogue since you read Callice, are all standing in France: Now we come to relate of the passage through Spaine to the City of Madrid; And first after your passage from Bayon you come shortly into the Kingdome of Nauarre, which is now in the King of Spaines Dominions, the first place there­in where they take Post-horse is named,

  • Yron, or Feria
  • Poypela
  • Oyason
  • Miranda
  • Eseruand
  • Maiogur
  • Tollousette
  • Sogure
  • Tolosa
  • Brenica
  • Verafrangij
  • Castil de pione
  • Segaur
  • Quinta Pall [...]
  • Gallarette
  • BVRGOS
  • Andi [...]amer
  • Bisbregur
  • VITORIA
  • Song [...]ide
  • [Page 105] [...]ma
  • [...]habon
  • [...]andadeduera
  • [...]ubia
  • Fressenuille
  • Cana [...]uille
  • Chastel
  • St. Augustine
  • St. Mresieur
  • Acauenda
  • Bouteagur
  • MADRID.

Thus hauing shewed the long and dangerous tract by Land and from London to Madrid, wee may herein see is part how much we are all bound to be thankfull to our great & good God, who hath so healthfully, happily, and timely preserued and [...]ned our gracious Prince so wishedly, after so many perils past on his part & so many doubts and feares on ours, vpon the which I haue (for a conclusion) written these following verses.

THe Prince of Princes, and the King of Kings,
Whose Eye of Prauidence foresees all things,
To whom what euer was, or ere shallbe,
Is present still before his Maiesty.
Who doth dispose of all things as he list,
And graspeth Time in his eternall fist;
He sees and knowes (for vs) what's bad or good,
And all things is by him well vnderstood,
Mens weake coniectures no way can areed,
What's in th'immortall Parlament decreed,
And what the Trinitie concludeth there,
We must expect it with obedience here.
Then let not any man presume so farre,
To search what the Almighties councels are,
But let our wils attend vpon his will,
And let this will be our direction still.
Let not Pleibeans be inquisitiue.
Or into any profound State-businesse diue.
We in fiue hundred and nere sixty yeare,
Since first the Norman did the Scepter beare,
Haue many hopefull royall Princes had,
Who as Heau'n pleas'd to blesse, were good or bad,
Beanclarke was first (who was first Henry crown'd)
For learning and for wisdome high renown'd)
Beyond the verge of Christendomes Swift Fame,
Did make the world admire his noble name.
The blacke Prince Edward, all his life time ran
The race of an accomplisht Gentleman:
His valour and tryumphant victories,
Did still the world and mount vnto the skyes.
The warlike Henry of that name the fist,
With his innated vertue vp did lift
His name and fame to such perspicuous grace,
Which time or no obliuion can deface,
Prince A [...]hur whom our Chronicks record,
To be a vertuous and a hopefull Lord:
His budding fortunes were by death preuented,
And as he liued belou'd he dy'd lamented.
His brother Henry from his fall did spring,
First to be Prince of Wales, then Englands King,
He was magnificent and fortunate,
According to the greatnesse of his state.
Next Edward his vndoubted heyre by birth,
Who (for the sins of men vpon the earth)
God tooke him hence as he began to bloome,
Whose worthy memory mens hearts into [...] be.
Prince Henry last, a Prince of as great hope
As ere was any yet beneath the Cop [...]
He liu'd and dy'd be wailed and renown'd
And left this Land with teares or sorrow drown'd
Then onely this illustrious b [...] remain'd.
Our gracious Charles, by Heauen [...] high grace ord [...]in'd
To be our loy, whose vertues (as I gather)
Will length the life of his beloued Father.
True loue and honour made his Highneste please,
Aduenturously to passe ore Lands and Seas.
With hazard of his royall person and
In that, the hope of all our happy Land.
But blessed be his Name, whose great protection
Preseru'd him still from change of ayres infectiorn,
That gaue him health and strength mongst su [...]dry Nations,
T'endure and like their dyers variations,
That though to others these things might be strange,
Yet did this Princely vlgour neuer change,
But with a strong and able constitution,
He bore out all with manly resolution.
Loue sometimes made the Gods themselues disguise,
And mussle vp their mighty Dieties,
And vertuous Princes of the Gods haue [...]ds,
When Princes goodnesse doe outgoe the Gods,
Then foolish man this is no worke of thine,
But operation of the power Diuine,
Let God alone with what he hath in hand,
'Tis sawcy, folly, madnesse, to withstand
What his eternall wisedome hath decreed,
Who better knowes then we doe, what we need.
To him lets pray for his most safe protection,
Him we implore for his most sure direction:
Let his assistance be Prince Charles his guide,
That in the end God may be glorifide,
Let vs amendment in our liues expresse,
And let our thankes be more, our sins be lesse.

Amongst the rest this is to bee remembred, that two Watermen at the Tower Wharfe burnt both their Boats in a Bonefire most merrily.

FINIS.

AN ENGLISH-MANS LOVE TO BOHEMIA.

DEDICATED To the Honourable, well approued, and accomplisht Souldier, Sir ANDREVV GRAY Knight, Colonell of the Forces of Great Britaine, in this Noble Bohemian Preparation.
SIR ANDREVV GRAI [...]. Anagramma, I GARDE IN WARRES.

Honourable Knight:

THere are two especiall Causes that haue moued me most boldly to thrust these rude lines into the world: The first is my heartie affection to the generality of the cause you vndertake, (which I beleeue God and his best seruants doe affect:) and the other is my loue and seruice which I owe to your worthy Selfe in particular, for many vnde serued friendships which I haue receiued from you, and many of your noble friends for your sake. Ingratitude is a Deuill, so farre worse them all the deuils, that if I should craue harbour of me, in the likenesse of an Angell of light, yet it would neuer by perswaded to entertaine it. My thankfull acknowledgement of your goodnesse towards me is my prayers and best wishes, which shall euer be a poore requitall towards you, not forgetting my thankes in the behalfe of all the worthy Ladies and others of that Angelicall sex that are maried and resident in London, whose chast honours you(as be­came a true Knight) defended, when an audacious Frenchman most slaunderously did (without excep­tion) sweare there was not one honest Women dwelling within the bounds of this populous Citie, but that they had all generally abused the bed of Mariage: then did your noble selfe inforce the pestiferous pea­sant to swallow his odious calumny, and in humilitie to comfesse there were fifty thousand or a greater number that neuer had wronged their Husbands in that vnlawfull act. I haue made bold to speake of this matter here, because the abuse was so generall, and your quarrell so Honourable, which I thinke vn­fit to be buried in silence or forgetfulnesse: howsoeuer, I craue your pardon and worthy acceptance, whilst I most obsequiously remaine,

Euer to be commanded by you, IOHN TAYLOR,

AN ENGLISH-MANS LOVE TO BOHEMIA. With a friendly Farewell to all the noble Souldiers that goe from great Britaine to that honourable Expedition. As ALSO, The most part of the Kings, Princes, Dukes, Marquisses, Earles, Bishops, and other friendly Confederates, that are combined with the Bohemian part.

WArres, noble warres, and manly braue designes.
Where glorious valour in bright Ar­mour shines:
Where God with guards of Angels doth defend,
And best of Christian Princes doe befriend,
Where mighty Kings in glittering burnisht armes
Lead bloudy brusing battels, and alarmes.
Where honour, truth, loue royall reputation,
Make Realmes and Nations ioyne in combination,
Bohemia, Denmarks and Hungaria,
The vpper and the lower Bauaria,
The two great Counties of the Pa [...]atine,
The King of Sweden friendly doth combine,
The Marquesse and Elector Brandenburge,
The Dukes of Brunswicke and of Lunenburge,
Of Holstein, Deuxpont, and of Wittemberge,
Of the Low-Saxons, & of Mackelberge,
Braue Hessens Lantsgraue Anholts worthy * Prince.
The inhance Townes whom force cannot conuince:
Prince Mauric [...], and the States of Netherlands,
And th' ancient Knights of th'Empire lend their hands (fam'd,
These and a number more then I haue nam'd,
Whose worths and valours through the world are
With many a Marquesse, Bishop, Lord, and Knight,
Toppose foule wrong, and to defend faire right:
Whose warlike troopes assembled brauely are,
To ayde a gracious Prince in a iust warre.

Byshops of Ha [...]flads, Magenberg, Hoeshri [...] [...]senburgh. The Mar­quesse of Auspasts, [...]ullinbag, Dwil [...]gh. The Count Palatine of [...]tricks and Luxemburgh. Tho States of v [...]and Sauoy.

For God, for Natures, and for Nations Lawes,
This martiall Army, vndertakes this cause;
And true borne Britaines, worthy Countrymen,
Resume your ancient honors once agen.
I know your valiant minds are sharpe and keene
To serue you Souereignes daughter Bohems Queen,
I know you need to spur to set you on,
But you thinke dayes are yeares till you are gone,
And being gone, you'l wealth and honour win,
Whilst ryot here at home addes sin to sin,
You (God assisting) may doe mighty things,
Make Kings of Captiues, and of Captiues Kings,
Riches and loue those that suruiue shall gaine,
And Fame, and Heauen the Portion of the slaine.
The wounds and scars more beautifull will make
Those that doe weare them for true honours sake.
Since God then in his loue did preordaine
That you should be his Champions, to maintaine
His quarrell and his cause [...] a fig for foes,
God being with you, how can man oppose?
Some may obiect, Your enemies are store,
If so, your fame and victori'es the more;
Men doe win honour when they cope with men,
The Eagle will not tryumph o're a Wren,
The Lyon with the Mouse will not contend,
Nor men 'Gainst boyes and women wars will bend,
But clouds of dust and smoake, and bloud and sweat,
Are the maine meanes that will true honour get,
Thus to Fames altitude must men aspire
By noble actions won through sword and fire,
By trumpets Clangor, drums, guns, flute of fife:
For as there is an end to euery life,
[Page 108]And man well knowes, that one day he must end it,
Let him keep't well, defend, and brauely spend it.
O griefe to see how many stout men lye
Halfe rotten in their beds before they dye;
Some by soule surfets, some by odious whoring.
In misery lye stinking and deploring,
And e're a lingring death their sad life ends,
They are most tedious loathsome to their friends;
Wasting in Physicke which addes woe to griefe
That which should yeeld their families reliefe:
At last when wished death their cares doe cure,
Their names like to their bodies lye obscure.
Whereas the Souldier with a Christian brest,
Wars for his Soueraigues peace, and Countries rest:
He to his Makers will, his will inclines.
And ne're gainst Heauen impatiently repines,
He to his Sauiour sayes that thou art mine,
And being thou redeem'st me. I am thine,
That if I liue or dye, or dye or liue,
Blest be thy name whether thou take or giue,
This resolution pierces heauens high roofe,
And armes a Souldier more then Cannon proofe.
Suppose his life ends by some noble wounds,
His Soule to Heauen, from whence it came reb [...]unds:
Suppose blowne vp with powder vp he flyes.
Fire his impurity repurifies.
Suppose a shot pierce through his breast or head,
He nobly liu'd, and nobly he is dead,
He lyes not bedred stinking, nor doth raue
Blaspheming against him that should him saue,
Nor he in Physicke doth consume and spend
That which himselfe and others should defend,
He doth not languish drawing, loathsome breath,
But dyes before his friends doe wish his death,
And though his earthly part to earth doth passe.
His fame outweares a Monument of brasse.
Most worthy Country-men couragious hearts,
Now is the time now act braue manly parts,
Remember you are Sonnes vnto such Sires,
Whose sacred memories the world admires,
Make your names fearefull to your foes againe,
Like Talbot to the French, or Drake to Spaine:
Thinke on braue valiant Essex and Mounti [...]y,
And Sidney, that did Englands foes destroy,
With noble Norris, Williams, and the Veeres,
The Grayes, the Willing [...]bi [...]s; all peerelesse Peeres,
And when you thinke what glory they haue won.
Some worthy actions by you will be done.

34. Battels fought in France by Englishmen since the Con­quest. Henry the sixth.

Remember Poi [...]tiers, Cressy, Agincourt.
With Bullein, Turwin, Turnyes warlike sport.
And more (our honours higher to aduance)
Our King of England was crown'd King of France.
In Paris thus all France we did prouoake
T'obey and serue vnder the English yoake.
In Ireland 18. bloudy fields we fought,
And that fierce Nation to subiection brought,
Besides Tyroues rebellion which foule strife
Cost England many a pound, lost many a life,
And before we were Scotlands, or it ours,
How often haue we with opposed powers
In most vnneighboutly, vnfriendly manners,
With hostile armes, displaying bloudy banners:
With various victories on eyther side,
Now vp, now downe, our fortunes haue beene tride,
What one fight wins, the other loosing yeelds,
In more then sixescore bloudie foughten fields.
But since that we and they, and they and we
More neere then brethren, now conioyned be,
Those scattering powers we each gainst other lead,
Being one knit body, to one royall head.
Then, let this Iland, East, West, South and North
Ioyntly in these braue warres emblaze out worth
And as there was a strife that once befell
Twixt men of Iuda and of Israel:
Contending which should loue King Dauid best.
And who in him had greatest interest.
Long may contention onely then be thus
Twixt vsand Scotland, and twixt them and vs:
Stil friendly striuing which of vs can be
Most true and loyall to his Maiesty.
This is a strife will please the God of peace,
And this contending will our loues encrease.
You hardy Scots remember royall Bruce,
And what stout Wallace valour did produce:
The glorious name of Stewards, Hamiltons,
The Er [...]kine, M [...]rayes, nd [...] he Leuingstons,
The noble Ramseyes, and th'illustrious Hayes,
The valiant Dowglasses, the Grimes and Grayes.
Great Sir Iames Dowglas, a most valiant Knight.
Lead seauenty battels with victorious fight.
Not by Lieutenants, or by deputation.
But he in person wan his reputation.
The Turkes and Sarazens he ouercame,
Where ending life he purchast end lesse fame,
And his true noble worth is well deriu'd,
To worthies of that name that since suruiu'd,

The praise of Sir Iames Dowglas, in the Raigne of King Ro­bert Bruce, 1330. In 13. maine battel she ouercame Gods ene­mies, and as last was slaine.

Then since both Nations did and doe abound
With men approu'd and through all lands renown'd,
Through Europs and through Asia, further farre,
Then is our blest Redeemers Sepulchre.
Through all the Coasts of tawny Affrica,
And through the bounds of rich America,
And as the world our worths acknowledge must,
Let not our valour sleeping lye and rust;
[Page 109] [...] to immortalize our Britaines name,
Let it from imbers burst into a flame.
We haue that Land and shape our Elders had,
Their courages were good, can ours be bad?
Their deeds did manifest their worthy mindes,
Then how can we degenerate from kindes?
[...] former times we were so giuen to warre,
Witnesse the broyles ('twixt Yorke and Lancaster)
Hauing no place to sorreigne Foes to goe,
Amongst our selues, we made our selues a Foe
Fall threescore yeares with fierce vnkind alarmes,
Were practis'd fierce vnciuill ciuill armes,
Whilst fourescore Peeres of the bloud royall dyde,
With hundred thousands Com [...]oners beside.
Thus Englishmen to wars did beare good will.
They would be doing, although doing ill.
And Scotlands Hystorie auoucheth cleare,
Of many ciuill warres and turmoyles there.
Rebellion, discord, rapine and foule spoyle,
Hath pierc'd the bowels of their Natiue soyle,
Themselues against themselues, Peeres against Peers,
And kin with kin together by the cares,
The friend gainst friend, each other hath withstood,
Vnfriendly friends weltering in their bloud,
Thus we with them, and they with vs contending,
And we our selues, and they themselues thus rending,
Doth shew what all of vs hath euer bin
Addicted vnto martiall discipline:
S [...] can report, and Portingale can tell,
Denmarke and Norway, both can witnesse well,
Sweden and Poland, truely can declare
Our Seruice there, and almost euery where.
And * Belgia but for the English and the Scots,
Perpetuall slauery had beene their lots
Vnder the great commanding power of Spaine,
By th' Prince of Par [...]a's and the Archdukes traine.
Farre for my witnesses I need looke,
'Tis writ in many a hundred liuing booke.
And Newports famous battell brauely tels,
The English and the Scots in fight excels:
Yea all, or most Townes in those seuen [...] Lands
Haue felt the force, or friendship of their hands.
Ostend whose siege all other did surpasse
That will be, is, or I thinke euer was,
In three yeares three moneths, Scots & Englishmen
Did more then Troy accomplished in ren.
Ostend endur'd (which ne're will be forget)
Aboue seuen hundred thousand Canon shot:
And, as if Hell against it did conspire,
They did abide death, dearth, and sword and fire,
There danger was with resolution mixt,
And honour with true valour firmely fixt.
Were death more horrid then a Gorgons head,
In his worst shapes they met him free from dread.
There many a Britaine dy'de, and yet they liue,
In fame, which fame to vs doth courage giue.
At last, when to an end the siege was come,
The gainers of it cast their loosing samme.
And the vneuen reckoning thus did runne:
The winners had most losse, the loosers wonne:
For in this siege vpon the Archdukes side
Seauen Masters of the Campe all wounded dyde.
And fifteene Colonels in that warre deceast.
And Serieant Majors twenty nine, at least.
Captaines fiue hundred sixty fiue were slaine.
Leiutenants (whilst this Leaguer did remaine)
One thousand, and one hundred and sixteene
Dyed and are now as they had neuer beene.
Ensignes three hundred twenty two, all euen:
And nineteene hundred Serieants and eleuen.
Corp'rals and Lantzpriz [...] does death did mixe
In number seauenteene hundred sixty sixe.
Of Souldiers, Mariners, women, children, all,
More then seauen times ten thousand there did fall.
Thus Ostend was at deare rates wonne and lost,
Besides these liues, with many millions cost.
And when 'twas won, 'twas won but on conditions,
On honourable tearmes, and compositions:
The winners wan a ruin'd heape of stones,
A demy- G [...]lgotha of dead mens bones.
Thus the braue Britaines that the same did leaue,
Left nothing in it worthy to receiue.
And thus from time to time, from age to age,
To these late dayes of our last Pilgrimage,
We haue beene men with martiall mindes inspir'd,
And for our meeds, belou'd, approu'd, admit'd.
Men prize not Manhood at so low a rate
To make it idle, and effeminate:
And worthy Countrymen I hope and trust
You'l doe as much as your fore-fathers durst,
A faire aduantage now is offered here
Whereby your wonted worths may well appeare,
And he that in this quarrell will not strike,
Let him expect neuer to haue the like.
He that spares both his person and his purse,
Must (if euer he vse it) vse it worse.
And you that for that purpose goe from hence
To serne that mighty Princesse, and that Prince,
Ten thousand, thousand prayers shall euery day
Implore th' Almighty to direct your way.
Goe on, goe on, braue Souldiers neuer cease
Till noble Warre, produce a noble Peace.

A briefe Description of BOHEMIA.

THE Kingdome of Bohemia, is well peopled with many braue Horse-men and Foot-men: Rich, fruitfull, and plentifully sto­red (by the Almighties bounty,) with all the treasures of Na­ture fit for the vse and commoditie of Man: It hath in it of Castles, and walled Townes, to the number of 780. and 32000. Villages; by a Graunt from the Emperour CHARLES the Fourth, it was freed for euer of the payments of all Contributions to the Empire whatsoeuer; Morauia, Silesia, and Lusatia, are as large as Bohemia, well replenished with stout Horse-men and Foot-men.

FINIS.

Honour Conceal'd; Strangely Reveal'd: OR, The worthy Praise of the Vnknowne Merits of the Renowmed Archibald Arme­strong, who for his vnexpected Peace-making in France, betwixt the King and the Ro­chellers, hath this Poem Dedicated as a Trophee, to his matchlesse Vertues [...] This being done in the yeare of our Lord, 1623. Written by him whose Name Annagramatiz'd, is LOYOL IN HART.

'Tis not the Warres of late I write vpon
In France, at the Iles of Rhea or Olleron:
These things were written in K. IAMES his Raigne.
Then Read it not with a mistaking Braine.

Dedicated to the Reader or Vnderstander, or both, or either, or neither.

WHat you are you partly know, and how you will like my lines I partly know not, A better mans pen might haue vndertaken this taske, for the Subiect for worth is net inferiour to Aiax, of whom the learned Sir Iohn Harington wrote a well approued Volume; the smallest baires haue their shadowes, and the least shadow its substance, and though vertue belong Eclipsed by the corrupted Cleudes of Enny, yet at the last, the Sunbeames of noble m [...]t. w [...]ll [...]reake through those Contagious Vaepours, expelling the obscure caertaines of Malignity, to the Eternizing of the owners fume, and the unrecalled Obloquy of hatefull and malicious opposi­tion. And in this Iron age, where men hoard vp their goodnesse as they doe their money. Wherein it is to be condo­led (to the tune of Lachrime) to see how much Vice is expressed, Pouerty depressed, Innocency oppressed, Vanitie impressed, Charitie suppressed, the Muses made Bawdes and Parasites to hide and slatter the wilfulnesse and fol­ly of Greatnesse: whilst honour of a mens owne winning, spinning and weauing, cannot be allowed him for his owne wearing. This made me to stirre my sterrill i [...]ention from the Leathean Den of obliuions Cimcrianisme, and take this neglected subiect in hand, which else is to be seared, had beene irrecouerably swallowed in the precipitated bottomlesse Abisse of sable Mourning melancholy Taciturnity and Forgetfulnesse. Herein may the Reader with­out much wearying his eye-sight, see Werth emblazed, Desert praised, Valour aduanced, [...] it described, Art commended, and all this (Paradoxically) apply'd, to the person and successefull Industry, of the ouermuch and worthy to be praised. Archiball Armestrong, the Camplementall Comma of Courtly Contentment; Whose Ad­mirable Fortunte, Fate, Lucke, Hap, Chance, Destiny, or what you please to tearme it, was to appease the furious Warres in France, and make a wonderfull. Accord or Peace, betwixt the King and his Subiects, whereby it may be obserued, how Rochell was conserued, the Kings Honour reserued, act France preserued, and what Archy deserued.

IOHN TAYLOR.

THE PEACE OF FRANCE, With the Praise of ARCHY.

VLisses was a happy man of men,
In that his acts were writ with Homers pen,
And Virgil writ the Actions & the Glory,
Of bold and braue AEneas wand'ring story,
Great Alexander had the like successe,
Whose life wise Quintus Curtius did expresse,
And (worthy Archy) so it fares with thee
To haue thy name and same emblaz'd by me.
For Homer was the Prince of Poets styl'd,
And Princely actions onely he compyl'd.
And Quintus Curtius, with ornated skill,
Did soare aloft with his Hystorian Quill.
But pardon mee, much short of their great worth
If in alowerstraine I set thee forth.
And sure I hold it for no little Grace
That 'tis my lot thy honour to vncase,
[Page 124]Nor can it be impeachment to thy name
To haue so meane a pen divulge thy fame.
For when the businesse is in order knit,
The subiect for the writer will seeme fit.
First, I haue read in Prophesies of old,
That written were by Merlin, who soretold
Some strange predictions, that without all doubt
Doth Cull, or picke, or point, or marke thee out.
The Prophesie, as thus.
WHen as the fect of Mabom [...]t
Themselu's against themselues shall set:
When as the Gauls the Gauls shall spur and Gall,
When Castles, Townes and Towers shall fall,
When nought but Horror, Death and Dread,
Shall famous fertile France or'e spread,
Then shall a man depart our strands,
Borne 'twixt the Rumps of two great Lands,
And he shall make these brawles to cease
And set all France in friendly peace.
His name shell Strong in Arme be call'd,
With Chiefe (though Bearded) joyn'd with Bald,

This Prophesie in charily kept by one Himpshage Scottish witch who dwels in a Caue in Ram one of the Iles of the Hebrades.

About nine hundred yeares, or somewhat nigh,
Are past, since Merlin speke this Prophecie,
And all the world may see, that what he sed
In Archies person is accomplished.
First all the Turkes that Mahomet adore
Are by the eares, and welter in their Gere.
Next France, which Gaul in time of yore was nam'd;
With war hath wasted beene, with fire inflam'd.
Then thirdly, Armestrong thither was conuaid
And then, and not till then the peace was made.
We fourthly finde (to further our auailes)
How he was borne betweene the Rumps, or tailes
Of two great Kingdomes, which were call'd the bor­ders.
Now midst of Britaine, free from old disorders.
And lastly Strong in Arme his name shalbe.
Chiefe, Arch, or Bald or bold, which all agree.
There is a fellow, with acrafty pate
That made a cunaing Anagram of late.
The words were Merry Rascall, to be hang'd,
But if the writer in my hands were sang'd,
I quickly would inforce him know that he
Should moddle with his fellowes not with me.
But vnto thee, from whom I haue digrest
Braue Archybald, I find it manifest
The name of Armstrong, like strong men of armes.
Haue euer valiantly outdar'd all harmes.
And for their stout atchieuments bin acoounted,
To be regarded, waited on and mounted.
Whilst those, whose merits could not win such state
Were grieued at their heart to soe their fate.
And mayest thodrise. Within this age of ours,
Vnto the honour of thy ancestours.
That the Auxungia of thy Matchlesse brest
May breed fresh Mandrahes to cause sleepe and rest.
To charme the Temples of consuming warres.
As thouhast done amongst the Rocheslers.
'Twas sharpe contention that began those broyles
Which fild all France with fell domesticke spoyles.
And that discention did so farre offend
That wisedome scarcely could the mischiefe end,
And therfore 'twas ordain'd that thou shouldst come
To hang the Colours vp, and still the Drum
To cease the trumpets clang, and fifes shall squeaking
And bring forth frightfull peace that close, [...]ay sneaking
Not dating once her visage out to thrust
Till Armours were committed vnto rust;
Oh thou who art halfe English and halfe S [...]
I would not haue thee proud of this thy lot,
But yet I should be proud if't were my chance
To doe as thou sayest thou hast done in France.
But should thy worth and acts bee here denyd:
Thou hast ten thousand witnesses beside.
Who will maintaine 'gainst eyther friend or foe,
If thou didst make the peace in France or no.
'Tis certaine that thou soundst them all vnruly
Within the Month of August, or of Iuly:
And in September, or I thinke October
Thou lefst them all in peace, some drunke, some sober;
Then what is he that dares expostulate,
Or any way thy fame extenuate,
But he whos [...]e Idlenesse will make it knowne.
That he hath little businesse of his owne.
Nor can he be of any Ranke or note
That enuies thee, or any of thy Coate:
Then let desert fall where desert is due
Thine honour is thine owne, and fresh and new.
War could not end the war, twas plainely seene
Wealth could not stop the floudgates of their spleene,
Strength could not make them lay their weapons by
Wit could not helpe, nor martiall policy,
Perswasion did not doe that good it would,
And valour would decide it. If it could.
When neither of these vertues are in price
Then thou didst boldly shew them, what a Vice
It was for Subiects to prouoke their King,
By their Robellion their owne deaths to bring.
When many a Mounsieur of the gallant Gaules,
Vnnat'rally was slaine in ciuill braules,
When many a Mother childlesse there was made
And Sire 'gainst Sonoppos'd with trenchant blade,
When Roaring Cannons counterchekt the thunder
And slately buildings lay their Ruines vnder.
When smoake eclipsing Sol, made skyes looke [...],
And murd'ring bullets seuer'd lim from lim;
Then did [...] thou come, and happy was thy comming
For then they left their Gunning and their Dromming.
And let the world of thee say what it list,
God will blesse him that made the warre defist.
[Page 125]'Tis wondrous strange, fate cannot be withstood
No man did dreame thou euer wouldst doe good:
And yet to see beyond all expectation
All France and Britaine Ring with acclamation
And with applaw sefull thankes they doe reioyce
That great Nauarre, and Burbon, and Valoyes,
Guize, Loraine, Bulleins, all the Gallian Pesros.
Like fixed starres, are setled in their spheares,
A soole can raise a flame from out a sparke,
But he's a man of speciall note and marke
And worthy to be guerdon'd for his paine
That turnes a flame into a sparke againe;
So hast thou done, or else there are some Lyers
Thou didst extinguish wars combustious fires,
And what thou didst, I see no reason but,
In print the Memorandums should be put.
Thou hast a brace of Brothers trauailers.
Who each of them in their particulers
Shewes of what house they came, and of all others,
They'l do things worthy to be knowne thy brothers.
The one to Poland, or the Land of Po
To vnexpected purpose late did goe.
The other furnish'd with as braue a mind
Vnto Virginia wandered with the winde,
Whore like a second Rephabus, braue Kitty
Doth make those parts admire him, he's so witty;
And though but little seruice he did here
'Tis past mans knowledge what he may doe there.
And where they are, they striue still to appeare,
To doe as much good there, as thou doest heere.
I wish you all were married, that your seed
Like Sonnes of Caine might multiply and breed:
For 'tis great pitty, such a stocke, or race
Obliuion should consume, or time deface.
Hadst thou but lin'd amongst the hairebraind elss,
In Italy the Gibtliues and the Guolphs:
Thou with thy oylely Oratory words
Hadst made them (at their owne wils sheath their swords:
Or when Angustus, Pompey, Anthony,
Sought Monarchy in Warres Triumuiri,
Hadst thou beeno neere them er'e their mortall fight
Thou hadst done more then I can truely write.
Or had Ierusalem but had thy mate
Before Vespatsan it did Ruinate,
The Mad men Eleazar, Simon, Iohn, [...]
Had neuer wrought their owne destruction.
And happy had it beene, if thou hadst bin
When Yorke and Lancaster did loose and win
Thou hadst done more then any man can tell
Those mighty factions to suppresle and quell.
There's a late Currant stufr'd with tales and newes
Of the Hungarians, Sarazens, and Ienes,
And to the Turkish Citty ( Hight) it come
Constantinople, or Bizantium,
In which Caranta all the French disignes,
With Archies name endors'd did grace the lines,
And how thou wast the Pipe or Instrument
That made the peace there to their great content.
And scanning of the businesse thus and thus
They did admire thee there as much as vs.
For they are there like rough tempestnous Seas;
All by the eares, whom no man can appease,
At last amongst themselues they did agree,
To send a great Ambassador for thee,
The great Grandsigneor, the Commission sign'd
And they abide to haue Moone, Sun and Wind,
The name of him that brings the Embassy.
Is Halye Bashaw, Lord of Tripoly.
He is attonded and well waited on,
By Sinan Beglerbeg of Babylon.
The Sanzake of 'Damascus comes along
And many more, a mighty troope and throng.
And sure twill be much honour vnto thee
To cause these Mad Mabometant agree.
Thou shalt be fed with dainties and with suckets
And thy reward shall be Chickens and Duckets.

The Turkes are at ciull Warres, and entend to lend an Am bas­sador for Archy, to doe as much for them as he did for France. He set sayle for this place the 32. of Nouember last.

The Tartar Chrim, Icleaped Tamor Can.
Warres with the mighty great Mosccuian
And vnto them haue thy exploytes bin told,
But goe not there, the Climates are to cold.
Our Merchants might doe well to hire thee hence
'Gainst Tuuis and Argiera, for their desence,
There in the Straites, of in the Gulph of Veuice,
(Where Neptune to sseth Ships, like [...]ls at tennis)
Thou mayest amongst the Pyrates take some course,
To mitigate or aggrauate their force.
I muse what Planet had within the sky,
Predominance at thy Natiuity,
For surely Fortune wrapt thee in her smoake,
And like a Lamb, did in the Cradle Rocke:
She dandled thee and luld thee in her lap
And tenderly she gaue thee sucke and pap;
Her purblinde fancie to her more delights
Esteem'd thee 'mongst her chiefest sauc [...]tites;
Much happy was it that [...]? [...] to smile
On vs, that thou hadst birth within our Ile,
For thou at I [...]yic mightst haue beene borne,
Then all our hopes in thee had beene forlorne,
Or at Cathay in China, ordapan,
And whe can tell what we should all doe than,
And sure did Prestor Iohn and the Mogull
But know thy worth and vertue to the full
Not Britaines Bounds thy Carkasse then could hold
If thou for Gold or Siluer mightst be fold.
Or 'tis a question they would make pretence
'Tinuade our Land, by force to take thee hence.
For why in thee a Iewell we enioy,
As Whilome the 'Palladium was to Troy:
[Page 114]Or like the Target, drop'd from Heauen to Rome
So on thy person waites a fat all doome;
In Terra call'd Incognita did they
That there inhabite, know but any way
To compasse thee, they 'ld hazard bloud and bone
And passe the Frigide and the Torid Zone,
The trope of Cancer and of Capricorne,
To hold them from the hazard they would scorne
And they would cut the Equinoctiall line
'Tenioy (as we doe) that sweet corps of thine.
Wer [...]t thou with Powhaton, he would agree
To leaue the Diuell, and fall to worship thee,
And (like that image) giue thee honour there
Nabuchaduezzar did in Babel reare.
But whether doth my Muse thus Rambling run,
'Tis knowne the Warres in France are past & done.
And if themselues they to remembrance call,
For what thou didst, they ought to thank thee all,
Mars, and Bellona from thy presence fled,
And Baccbus with faire Venus came in stead,
The Codpiece God ( Priapus) is erected
In France, and Somnus is by Pax protected,
Thou hast hercau'd the souldiers of some knocks,
And wounds and slashes are transform'd to packs,
For C [...]berea's the Chyrurgians Star
And makes more worke in peace then Mars in was.
The Generals and Masters of the Campe
The Colonels now cease to sweare and stampe.
The Captaines haue layd by their bastinadoes,
Lieutenants put to silence their braua does.
The Colours surdled vp, the Drum is mute,
The Seriants Ranks and Files doth not dispute.
The Corp rall knowes no watchword. Lantzprezzdoes.
Nor Souldiers scowt or lye in ambuscadoes,
Now murdring Bullets, morrall Cuts and stabs,
Are metamotphos'd to Dice, Drinke, and Drabs,
To Fidlers, Pipers, Panders, Parasites,
Fooles, Knaues and Fester [...], and such rare delights;
The Cups run round, the tongue walks quicke and glid
Whilst euery Tinker doth enioy his Tyb.
Thrice happy France, that in thee did arriue
Our thong arm'd Archy, that war thence did driue.
And happier Britaine, now thy worth is knowne
In hauing such a lewell of thine owne.
A Iewell pollish'd, and most brightly, burnish'd,
Foyld, and well painted, set in Gold, Rich furnish'd;
But all men knowes a Iewell shewes not well,
Except it be dependant like a Bell,
But Archy let delay breed no distaste,
Theres time enough for all things, hast makes wasle.
There was a Post came late all tyr'd and weary,
From Callice o're the Sea to Canterbury:
And he reported that in euery angle,
Of France, did bonfires burne, and Bels did Iangle;
In euery market Towne, and Street and Citty,
The Ballad makers haue compos'd a Ditty
To magnifie thy name which is resounded,
And wondred at as farre as France is bounded,
That in their drinking Schooles and tipling Houses,
The Fidlers sing thy honor, for two touses.
The whilst thy health runs round with wondrous quicknes,
'Till too much Health or health at last brings sicknes.
And shall a forreine Land thus farte expretle
To thee (for thy deserts) their thankefulness,
And shall thy health in Britaine not be gazled
And all our Muses be hide-bound and muzled.
Great Iouc forbid, that such indignity
Should ere befall to thy malignity.
For since the Graces heere doe not befriend thee
And since the Vertues will no way attend thee,
The Sences seeme as sencelesse vnto thee
The Sciences to thee Regardlesse be.
The Gods and Goddesses seeme dumb and stupid
(Except the Punke of Daphes, and young Ca [...])
Onely the deadly Sins, the Fates, and F [...]i [...],
On thee (as on ten thousand more) attends,
I noted this, and grieued much in mind,
That in our loues we were so farre behind;
I was resolu'd to vndergoe this Chance,
To write thy praise, as some haue done in France;
And now I enterd am, I'le further in
And spur my Muse amaine through thicke and thin,
'Till I haue made the Court thy praises ring,
'Till in thy lawd the Citty Songs do sing.
Till I haue forc'd the Country Rurall Styaines
Chant, Pipe, and dance thy praises on the Plaines,
The tongues confusion in our braue Exchange
Shall Babell like declare thy story strange,
The newes of thee shall fill the Barbers shops,
And at the Bake-houses, as thicke as hops
The tatling women as they mold their bread
Shall with their dough thy fourefold praises knead,
Whilst Water bearers at the Conduits all
Within their tankerds sound thy honour shall,
And at the house of office at Qucene hithe.
Men shall record thy actions braue and blithe.
Then France shall well perceiue, who'ere sayes nay,
That we haue bauins here as well as they,
And that we can make bonefires, and ring bels,
Drink healths, and be starke drunke, and something else,
That we can time beyond all sence or Reason
And can doe what we may at any season,
This shall be done before that I haue done
And then thy glory shall a gallop run,
Like to the gliding of a shooting Starre,
East, West, South, North, from Deuer to Dunbar,
Meane space accept the rudenesse of my Rime.
And Ile doe twice as much another time.
Thus wishing to Escape occasions Male,
In Courtly Complement, my pen bids Vale.
FINIS.

HEAVENS BLESSING, AND EARTHS IOY. OR, A true relation, of the supposed Sea-fights and Fire-workes, as were accomplished, before the Royall Celebration of the all-beloued Marriage, of the two peerelesse Paragons of Christendome, FREDERICKE and ELIZABETH. With Triumphall Encomiasticke Verses, consecrated to the Immortall memory of those happie and blessed Nuptials.

DEDICATED To the illustrous Lampe of true VVorth, the noble, Ingenious, judicious, and vnderstanding Gentleman, Sir IAMES MVRAY Knight.

VNto the prospect of your Wise­domes eyes,
I Consecrate these Epithalamies.
Not that I thinke them worthy of your view,
But for in Loue my thoughts are bound to you:
I doe confesse my selfe vnworthy farre
To write, in such high canses as these are,
Which, Homer, Virgil, nor the fluent Tully,
In sitting tearmes could scarce expresse them fully:
But since the Muses did their bounties show,
And on me did poore Poësie bestow;
I hold it best to play the thankefull man,
To spend their guifts the best wayes that I can,
And not like pedling Bastards of the Muses,
That like to Lawyers, liue on Times abuses.
Thus vnto you I giue it as it is,
Desiring pardon where there's oughts amisse.
Your Worships, Euer to be commanded in all integritie: IOHN TAYLOR.

THE FIGHT BETWEENE the Ships and Galleyes.

I Did not write nor publish (this des­cription of fire and water tryumphs) to the intent that they should onely reade the relation that were specta­tors of them for to such (perhaps) it will relish somewhat tedious like a tale that is too often told: but I did write these things, that those who are farre remoted, not only in his Maiesties Do­minions, but also in forraine territories, may haue an vnderstanding of the glorious Pompe, and magnificent Domination of our High and mighty Monarch King Iames: and further, to de­monstrate the skils and knowledges that our warlike Nations hath in Engines, fire-works and other military discipline, that they thereby may be knowne, that howsoeuer warre seeme to sleepe, yet (vpon any ground or lawfull occasi­on (the command of our dread Soueraigne can rouze her to the terrour of all malignant oppo­sers of his Royall state and dignity. But to the purpose.

In the representation of this Sea-fight there were 16 Ships, 16. Gallyes, and 6. Frigots: of the which Nauy, the Ships were Christians, and the Gallies were supposed Turkes, all being arti­ficially rigg'd and trim'd, well man'd and furni­shed with great Ordinance and Musquetiers: one of the Christian fleet was a great vessell or a supposed Venetian Argosey, and another was a tall ship, as it were appointed for the safe Con­noy of the Argosey. And for the auodying of the troublesomnesse of Boats and Wherries, and other perturbatious multitudes, there was a lists or bounds, made with Lighters, Hoyes, and o­ther great Boates to the number of 250 or there­abouts: the one end of the Lists was as high (al­most) as Lambeth bridge, and the other end as low as the Temple staires, and so fastned to the South shore, or the vpper end of the Banke on Southwarke side, in the forme of a halfe Moone or Cemicircle. So that boates might passe vp and downe the Riuer betwixt London side and the Lighters any way. The aforesaid Turkish Gallies lying all at an Anchor ouer against Westminster, in a Hanen or Harbor made arti­fically with Masts and other prouision 60 yards into the Riuer, which harbour or hauen was be­longing to a supposed Turkish or Barbarian Ca­stle of Tunis, Algiers, or some other Mahometan fortification, where the Gallies might scowt out for purchase, and retire in againe for safeguard at their pleasure. About two of the clocke on Saturday the 13. of February, the aforesaid Ar­gosey and the Venetian Ship her conuoy, sets for­ward fromward the Temple, and driuing vp with the wind and tide till they came as high as Yorke house, where 4 Gallies met and encountred with them: where vpon a suddaine there was friendly exchanging of small shot and great Ordinance on both sides, to the great delectation of all the beholders: the Drums, Trumpets, Fifes, Weights Guns, shouts, and acclamations of the Mariners, Souldiers and Spectators, with such reuerbera­ting Ecchoes of joy to and fro, that there wan­ted nothing in this fight (but that w ch was fit to be wanting) w ch was ships sunke and torne in peeces, men groaning, rent and dismembred, some slain, some drowned, some maimed, all expecting con­fusiō. This was the māner of the happy & famous battell of Lepanto, fought betwixt the Turkes and the Christians in the yeare of grace 1571. or in this bloudy māner was the memorable battell betwixt vs and the inuincible (as it was thought) Spanish Armado in the yeare 1588. but in the end (in this friendly fight) the ship and Argosey were encompassed round by the Gallyes, and surprized and taken; whereupon the whole fleet made towards them to rescue them, and reuenge their receiued iniuries.

Then there was a Beacon fiered by the Turkes [Page 117] which gaue warning to the Castle and the Gal­lyes, of the comming of the Christian Fleet: Then all the Ships and Gallyes met in friendly opposition and imaginary hurly-burly battali­ons: then the lofty instruments of Wars clamo­rous encouragements sounded: the thundring Artillery roared, the Musquetiers in number lesse volleys discharged on all sides, the smoake as it were eclipsing Titans refulgent Beames, filling all the Ayre with a confused cloudy mist. The Castle and the Land adiacent, continually dis­charging great shot in aboundance at the Ships, and the Ships at them againe: so that after this delightfull battaile had doubtfully lasted three houres, to the great contentment of all the be­holders, the Victory inclining to neither side, all being opposed foes, and combined friends: all victors, all tryumphers, none to be vanquished, and therefore no conquerors. The Drummes, Trumpets, Flutes and Guns, filling the Ayre with repurcussiue acclamations: vpon which, for a Carastrophe or Period to these delightfull roy­alities, command was giuen that the Retreat should be founded on both sides. And thus these Princely recreations were accomplished and finished.

These things could not conueniently bee printed in order as they were done, by reason of the diuersi­tie of them.

For heere I was faine to describe the fight of the Ships and Gallyes first, which was performed last. For the fire-workes were performed on Thursday night the 11. of February, and the fight was vpon the Saterday following.

At the which fire workes the Master Gunner of England, on the shore did performe many skil­full and ingenious exploits with great Bumbards, shooting vp many artificiall Bals of fire into the Ayre, which flew vp into one whole mighty sierie Ball, and in their falling dispearsed into diuers streames like Raine-bowes, in many innumerable fires. After all which, was discharged a great peale of Chambers, to the contentment of the royall spectators, and the great credit of the performers.

The true description of such part of the Fire-workes as were deuised and accomplished by Mr. Iohn Nodes Gunner, and Seruant to the Kings most excellent Maiestie.

THe Imperiall and Beauteous Lady Queene of the Feminine Territories, of the man ha­ting Amazonians, with whose bright eye dazeling Coruscancie, and whose Refulgent feature, the Black-sould Hell-commanding Magitian Man­go (a Tartarian borne.) was so insnared and cap­tiuated, for her Loue, and to be assured to enioy her, he would set all Hell in an vprore, and pluck Don Belzebub by the beard: assuredly perswa­ding himselfe that without her he could not liue, and for her he would attempt any thing: but she hauing vowed her selfe euer to bee one of Vestaes Votaries, alwayes kept Cupid out at the armes end: and bad Madam Venus make much of stump-footed Vulcan, and keep home like a good Huswife, for she had no entertainment for her.

Whereupon this hellish Necromancer Man­go, (being thus repulst) conuerts all his Loue to outragious rigour, and immediately with his Charmes, Exorcismes, and Potent execrable in­cantations, he raises a strong impregnable Pa­uilion, in the which he immures, and encloses this beautifull Amazonian Queene with atten­dent Ladies, where (though they liued in capti­uitie and bondage) yet, they had variety of Games and pleasant sports allowed by the Ma­gitian, in hope that time would worke an alte­ration in her faire flinty breast. And for her sure guard in his absence, he had erected by Magick, another strong Tower, as a watch-house, where­in he had placed a fiery Dragon, and an inuinsi­ble Giant: (of whome I will speake in an other place hereafter.)

Now to this aforesaid Pauilion wearied with toyle & trauaile, the Great vnresistable Champi­on of the world, and the vncontrolable Patron Saint George comes: and seeing so bright and lu­culent a Goddesse, (according as his necessitie required) demanded entertainement, whereby he might be refreshed after his laborious achiue­ments and honourable endeauours.

[Page 118]The curteous Queene (although she cat'd not for the society of man) seeing his outward or ex­ternall feature and warlike accounterments, did presently resolue with her selfe that so faire an outside could not be a habitation for fowle Tre­chery, and with most debonayre gesture, admits his entrance into the Pauilion, where after he had feasted a while, shee relates vnto him the true manner and occasion, of her vnfortunate thral­dome: Saint George (euer taking pleasure in most dangerous attempts, holding it his chiefest glory to helpe wronged Ladies) vowes, that as soone as Phoebus rowz'd himselfe from the Antipodes, he would quell the burning Dragon, Conquer the big bon'd Giant, subuert the inchanted Castle, and enfranchise the Queene with her followers, or else die in the enterprise thereof. After which promise of his, the Queene to passe away the time, delights him with these pastimes following, being all fire-workes.

First, the Pauilion is beleaguerd or inurioned round about with fires, going out of which, ma­ny fiery balls flies vp into the Ayre, with num­bers of smaller fiers ascending, that cemicircled Cinthia is (as it were) eclipsed with the flashes, and the starres are hud wincket with the burning exhalations.

Secondly, is seene a royall hunting of Bucks, and Hounds, and Huntsmen, flying and chasing one another round about the Pauilion (as if Dia­na had lately transformed Acteon, and his igno­rant dogges ready to prey on his Carkas) from whence continually as flying many fiers dispersed euery way: The lower part of the Pauilion al­waies burning round about, giuing many blowes, and great reports, with many fires flying aloft into the Ayre.

Thirdly, there doth march round about the Pauilion Artificiall men, which shall cast out fires (as before) as it were in skirmish: another part of the Pauilion is all in a Combustious flame, where Rackets, Crackers, Breakers, and such like, giues blowes and reports without number.

Fourthly, the Queene of Amazonia with all her traine of Virgin Ladies, with fires, marcheth round as the men did before, with the fire flying dispersedly diuers wayes: the whilst another part of the Pauilion is fired, with many blowes and re­ports & fiers flying alost in the ayre, from whence it comes downe againe in streaming flakes of flashing fire.

Fifthly, aloft within the Turret, shall runne (whirling round) a fiery Globe, with the Turret and all on fire, with many more greater blowes then before had beene heard, and diuers and sun­dry other sorts of fires (then any of the former) proceeding from thence, and flying into the ayre in great aboundance.

All which things being performed, and the vn­danted Knight Saint George taking his leaue of the Amazonian Queene Lucida, he mounts vpon his Steed, and aduenrurously rides towards the inchanted Tower of Brumond.

Now these disports being ended, wherein St. Georges entertainment was onely expressed, with the Queenes relation of her bondage, this braue Champion was seene to ride ouer the bridge to combat with these aforesaid Monsters, the Dra­gon and Giant: all which was expressed in the next deuise of M r. Thomas Butler: and so I end, with my hearty inuocations to the Almighty to send the Bride and Bridgroome the yeares of Me­thushalah, the fortitude of Ioshua, the wealth of Cressus, and last of all an endlesse Crowne of Im­mortalitie in the highest heauens.

A true discription of the Platforme of a part of the fire-workes, deuised and made by Mr. Thomas Butler Gunner, and seruant to the Kings Roy­all Maiestie.

THis inchanted Castle or Tower of Brumond is in height 40. foote and 30. square, be­tweene which and the Pauilion of the Amazoni­an Queene, is a long Bridge, on the which Bridge, the valiant and heroicke Champion Saint George being mounted on horsebacke, makes towards the Castle of Brumond, which being perceiued by the watchfull Dragon, (who was left by the Mar­go the Coniuer as a Centinell) is encountred by him, where as Saint George (being armed at all points (but especially) with an vnrebated cou­rage) hauing in his helmet a burning flaming Feather, and in one hand a burning Launce, and in the other a fiery Sword, with which weapons [Page 119] he assailes the dreadfull Dragon, with such fury and Monter quelling strokes, as if the Ciclops had beene forging, an I beating T [...]erbolts on Vulcans A [...]uile: where in conclusion, after a terrible and long endured Combate, with his Launce hee gores the Hell-hound vnder the wing, that he presently after most hideous roring, and bleching of fire is vanquished and s [...]ine: at which the terrible shaped Gyant rises (who ha­uing fate as a Spectator of this bloudy Battell vpon a stampe of a Tree at the Castle Gate) and addresses himselfe towards Saint George, meaning to reuenge the death of the Dragon, aud to swal­low his enemy for a medium: but at their first encounter, the blowes on both sides fell like thun­der-claps, enforcing Lightnings, and fierie exha­lations to sparkle from whence their powerfull stroakes lighted: at last the Monster gaping wide as an Arch in London Bridge, runnes furiously, intending to swallow his Aduersary at a bit: w ch Saint George seeing, vpon the suddaine thrust his Sword into his greedy throat, & ouerthrew him: at which the Monster yels and cores forth such a terrible noyle, as if the Center of the Earth had crackt, that with the vncouth din thereof, the Neighbouring Hils, Woods, and Valleyes, see­med to tremble like an earth quake.

The Gyant lying at the mercy of Saint George, entreats him to spare his life, and he wil shew him the way how hee shall conquer the Castle, and bring the Inchanter to his euerlasting downfall.

Vpon which promise, Saint George and the Gy­ant walke into the Castle together, where he tels Saint George that there is an Inchanted fountain, and whosoeuer can attaine to drinke of it, shalbe he, whom the Fates haue ordained to be the con­clusion of the Castles glory.

In the meane space whilst these things were doing, the Magitian Mango, hauing intelligence of the dangerous estate of his Castle, and fearing the losse of his Lady: suddainely mounts him on a flying inuisible Diuell, and in a moment a­lights within the Castle vpon whom S t. George makes a present conquest. The Castle hath on the top thereof a fierie Fountaine, which burnes and sends vp Rackets into the Ayre, some great, and some lesse, and fire dispearsed many wayes in great abundance with innumerable lights round about.

Secondly, the Magitian it taken with his Con­iuring Scepter in his hand, and bound to a Pillar by Saint George, and burned with store of lights (as before) with Fires and Rackets ascending and descending too and fro in the Ayre.

Thirdly, the foure Squares of the Tower are fiered, with aboundance of Lights, with Rackets flying into the Ayre, with fiers dispearsed, and scattered diuers and sundry wayes, & with reports and blowes, some great, and some lesse, accor­ding to their making.

Fourthly, the foure Turrets are fired with fire, and innumerable lights, with aboundance of Rackets flying too and fro in the Ayre giuing diuers reports, as before.

Then the maine Castle is fiered, and vpon two of the corner Turets are two Globes fiered, and betwixt each Globe at two other corner Turrets, are a-men, catching as it were at the Globes w ch still turne from them, and they chasing and fol­lowing the Globes, still burning and turning till all be extinguished with fire: alwayes Rackets flying and reports thwacking, & Lights burning.

THOMAS BYTLER.

VVilliam Bettis his inuention, of such part of the fireworkes as were performed by him at the Royall Celebration: which hee had contriued in such sort, that if the weather had beene Rainy or Windy, yet his designements should haue beene accamplished.

A Castle with diuers fire workes, representing and assuming diuers variable shapes, and imaginary formes; which continued the space of an houre or thereabouts: the nature and quality of which fire-worke, was performed as followeth.

  • 1. First, there was seene 13. great fires, to flye too and fro round about the Castle, where­by it seemed to bee beleaḡuerd or Circumuolu'd with fires, which yeeled a most pleasing obiect to all the Spectators.
  • 2. Secondly, a flight of great store of Rackets was seene to ascend into the ayre, and descend a­gaine, which in their descending were extingui­shed.
  • [Page 120]3. Thirdly, the whole Castle was all on fire, wherein was seene many things very delightfull.
  • 4. Fourthly, was seene many buttons flye, dis­pearsed diuers wayes from the Castle, with great cracks, blowes, and reports in great number.
  • 5. Next that, was seene a Stag or Hart, hun­ted and chased sed with dogs, all their bodies being artificially made and proportioned in one flame of fire, where the following Hounds were plaine­ly seene to pull downe and vanquish the Stagge, which they before had chased.
  • 6. Sixthly, there was seene a great flight of Rackets, with two or three fires a peece.
  • 7. Seauenthly were seene two or three hundreth fires flying from the Castle, and then flying too and fro in and out, many wayes altogether.
  • 8. Next which, was seene a great flight of Rac­kets, with many great fires, some of the said fires breaking into many parts, diuers wayes dispersed in aboundance, which fires were seene to fall bur­ning into the water.
  • 9. Ninthly, was seene many Rackets flying in­to the Ayre in great aboundance, giuing many blowes, cracks, or reports, numberlesse.
  • 10. Tenthly, was seene diuers other Rackets flying aloft into the Ayre, which Rackets did as­simulate the shapes and proportions of Men, wo­men, fowles, beasts, fishes, and other formes and fi­gures. Last of all, was heard 100. blowes and reports as lowd as the report of a reasonable Chamber is able to giue, and so with fires, lights, Rackets, & such like, (to the delight of all the be­holders, & the great credit of the inuentor of this fireworke) all was extinguished and concluded.
WILLIAM BETTIS.

Master Iohn Tindale Gunner and seruant to the Kings Royall Maiestie, The true description of such part of the Fire-workes as were by him de­uised and performed at this Royall Tryumphs.

A Castle, old and very Ruinous, called the Castle of Enuy, scituated and erected on a Rocke (all ragged and horid to behold) called the Rocke of Ruine; encompassed round, and dren­ched in a troublous Sea, called the Sea of Disqui­et: The Captaine of this Castles name was Dis­cord, with his Lieutenant Lawlesse, Antient Ha­tred, Serieant Malice, Corporall Contention, with his Lansprezado Hell-hound. The Rocke or foundation of this Castle being all replenished with Adders, Snakes, Toades, Serpents, Scor­pions, and such venemous Vermin, from whose throates were belched many fires, with Crackers, Rackets, blowes and reports in great number.

To the subuersion of these maleuolent edifices, there came three Ships, the one of them beeing called Good-will, in whom Loyaltie was Captain, and Zeale was Master.

The second ship was named the True-loue, in whom Trust was Captaine, and Perseuerance was Master.

The third ship was called Assurance, in whom Circumspection was Captaine, and Prouidence the Maister.

These three ships and Captaines with their valiant and confident associates, assaults this Castle of Enuy, where after halfe an houres fight or thereabouts (by the inuincible prowesse of the assai [...]ants) the Hell borne defendants were van­quished, their Castle vtterly razed, demolished, and subuerted, with Rackets, breakers, blowes, and reports innumerable.

IOHN TINDALL.

The description of such part of the Fire workes as were deuised and accomplished by Master Wil­liam Fishenden Gunner, and Seruant to his Maiestie.

Apiramides or loftie platforme, in the forme of a Triangled spire, with a Globe fixed on the top therof the whole work turning & burning, the space almost of halfe an houre, or neere there­abouts, from whence proceeded many Rackets, firea, blowes and reports, in great numbers, to the great delight and contentment of the King, the Queene, the Prince, the Princesse Elizabeth, the Prince Palatine, and diuers others the Nob­ility, the Gentry, and Commons of this Kingdom.

FINIS.

EPITHALAMIES. OR, Encomiasticke Triumphall Verses, Consecrated to the Im­mortall memory, of the royall Nuptials of the two Parragons of Christen­dome FREDERICKE and ELIZABETH.

HEe * that vpon the Poles hath hing'd the skyes
Who made the Spheares, the Orbs, and Planets seuen.
Whose justice dams, whose mercy justifies,
What was, is, shall be, in earth, Hell, or Heauen:
Whom men and Angels lauds and magnifies,
(According as his Lawes command hath giuen)
The poore, the Rich, the Begger and the King,
In seuerall Anthems his great praises sing.
Then as the meanest doe their voices stretch,
To lawd the sempiternall Lord of Lords:
So I a lame Decrepit-witted wretch,
With such poore Phrases as my skill a floords:
From out the Circuit of my braine did fetch,
Such weake inuention as my wit records.
To write the tryumphs of this famous Ile,
On which both Heauen & earth with ioy doth smile.
My Genius therefore my inuention moues,
TO sing of Britaines great Olympick Games,
Of mirth, of Heau'n and earths beloued loues,
Of Princely sports, that noble mindes enflames
To doe the vtmost of their best behoues;
To fill the world with their atchieued Fames.
T'attaine Eternities all-passing bounds,
Which neither Fate, nor Death, nor Time confounds.
Guns, Drums, and Trumpets, Fire-workes, Bonfires, Bels.
With acclamations, and applausefull noyse:
Tilts, Turneyes, Barriers, all in mirth excels,
The ayre reuerberates our earthly ioyes.
This great Tryumphing, Prophet-like fore-tels
(I hope) how * Leathes Lake all griefe destroyes,
For now blacke sorrow from our Land is chac'd,
And ioy and mirth each other haue embrac'd.
How much Ichouah hath this Iland blest,
The thoughts of man can neuer well conceaue:
How much we lately were with woes oprest.
For him * whom Death did late of life bereaue.
And in the midst of griefe, and sad vnrest,
To mirthfull sport * freely giu'es vs leaue:
And when we all were drench'd in blacke dispaire,
Ioy conquered greife, and comfort vanquish'd care.
Thou high and mighty [...] [...],
Count Pallatine and pal [...] of the [...]:
Bauares great Duke, whom God on high doth life,
To be the tenth vnto the Worthies nine.
Be euer blest with thy beloued * Guilt,
Whom God, and best of men makes onely thine:
Let annually the day be giuen to mirth,
Wherein the Nuptials gaue our loy loyes new birth.
Right gracious Princesse, great Elizabeth
In whose Heroicke, pure, white Iuory breast,
True vertue liues, and liuing flourisheth:
And as their Mansion hath the same possest:
Belou'd of God aboue, and men beneath,
In whom the Goddesses and graces rest.
By vertues power, Ichonah thee hath giuen,
Each place doth seeme (where thou remain'st) a heauen.
The Royall bloud of Emperours and Kings,
Of Potent Conquerours, and Famous Knights
Successiuely from these two Princes springs:
Who well may claime these titles as their rights:
The Patrons Christendome to vnion brings,
Whose vnity remoted Lands vnites,
And well in time (I hope) this sacred worke,
Will hunt from Christian Lands the faithlesse Turke.

By this happy marriage, great Britaine, France, Denmarke, Germa­ny, & the most part of Christendon [...]e are vnited eyther in affinity or consanguinity.

Since first the framing of the worlds vast Roome,
A fitter, better match was not combinde;
So old in wisdome, young in beauties bloome,
And both so good and graciously inclinde.
And from this day, vntill the day of doome;
I doubt succeeding ages shall not finde;
Such wisdome, beauty, grace, compact together,
As is innate in them, in both in eyther.
None (but the Diuell and his infernall crue)
At this beloued heau'nly match repines,
None (but such fiends, which hell on earth doth spue)
Which wish Eclips of their illustrious shines,
The Gods themselues with rare inuentions new,
With inspiration mans deuice refines;
And with their presence vndertakes these taskes,
Deuises, motions, Reuels, playes, and Maskes.

[Page 122]That which God loues most, the Diuell hates most: and I am sure that none but the blacke crew are offended with these Royal Nuptials.

The thund'rers * Bride hath [...]efe her heauenly bed,
And with her presence this great wedding graces;
Him [...] in Saffron Robes inuelloped:
Ioynas and accords these Louers lou'd embraces:
Yea all the Gods downe to the Earth are fied.
And mongst our ioyes their pleasures enterlaces.
Immortals joynes with mortals in their mirth,
And makes the Court their Paradice on earth.
Maiestick Ioue hath left his spangled Throane
To dance Leuoltoes at this Bridall feast:
Infusieg Iouiall glee in euery one,
The high, the low, the greatest and the least.
Sad mindes to sable melancholy prone,
Great loue their vitall parts hath so possest:
That all are wrapt in sportfull extasies,
With showes and Glamors ecchoing in the skyes.

Where the Plane [...] Iupiter hath sole predominance, there is all Royall mirth, and jou [...]all alacrity.

a Apollo from the two topt b Muses Hill
Eight of the c Sisters nine hath brought from thence
(Leauing d Me [...]pomence alone there still
To muse on sad and tragicall euents)
The rest all stretching their all matchlesse skill
To serue this Royall Princesse, and this Princes.
Thus Sol descended from his Radient shrine,
Brings Poesie and Musicke downe diuine.
The wrathfull God of e War in burnish'd Armes
Layes by his angry all confounding mood:
And in the Lifts strikes vp sweet Loues Alarmes,
Where friendly warres drawes no vnfriendly bloud,
Where honours fire the noble spirit warmes
To vndertake such actions as are good.
Thus mighty Mars these tryumphs doth encrease At Tilt.
With peacefull warre, and sweet contentions peace.
The Queene of fLoue these Royall sports attend,
And at this Banquet deignes to be a guest:
Her whole endeauours she doth wholly bend,
She may in Loues delights outstrip the best:
For whosoe're doth Hymens Lawos pre [...]end
If Venus be but absent from the feast,
They may perhaps be merry in some sort,
But 'tis but painted mirth and ayrie sport.

All worth nothing.

Bright Maias So [...]e the God of tricks and sleights, [...]
Hath op'd the treasure of his subtill wit; mercury
And as a Seruant on this Wedding waits
With Masques, with Reuals, and with tryumphs fit,
His rare inuentions and his quaint conceits,
(Twixt Heauen alost, and Hel insernall pit)
He in imaginary showes affords
In shape, forme, method, and applausefull words.
Old sullen i Saturne hid his moody head,
In dusky shades, of blacke Cimerian night:
And wauering k Luna closely couch'd to bed,
Her various change she knew would not delight
The loyall mindes where constancie is bred,
Where Protens thoughts are put to shamefull flight,
These two l by Ioues command were straightly bound
To stay at home (as better lost then found)
Cupid descended from the Chrystall skyes
And leaues befind his golden feathered darts:
In steed of whom, he makes faire Ladies eyes
The piercing weapons of true loning hearts,
And he amongst these high Solemnities,
His awfull presence freely he imparts,
To all in generall with mirthfull cheere,
All sport's the better if loues God be there.
The off spring of the high celestiall Ioue,
His braine.bred m Daughter and his thigh borne Sonne
nOne with aduice of wisdome she wed her loue,
And t'other bounteously made plenty runne:
Where wine in streames gainst one another strone,
Where many a Caske was ba [...]ckrout an vndone,
Depriu'd the treasure of the fruitfully vinese
By Bacchus bounty, that great God of Wine.s
Thus Ioue and Iuno, Jmps of aged Ops
With wise Minerua, Mars and Mercury:
Resplendent Sol with musicks straines and ileps
Faire Venus Queene of Loues alacrity,
Loues God with shafts betipe with golden tops
And Bacchus showring sweet humidity,
Gods, Goddesses, the Graces and the Muses,
To grace these tryumphs all their cunnings vses.
Amongst the rest was all recording Fame
Inscalping noble deeds in brazen l [...]aues:
That meagre Enuy cannot wrong that name,
Where braue Heroick acts the minde vpheaues:
F [...]mes goldē trump will through the world proclame
Whom Fortune, Fare, nor Death nor time bereaues.
Thus like a Scribe, Fame waited to Record
The Neptialls of this Ludy and this Lord,
All making marring time that turneth neuer
To these proceedings still hath beene auspicious,
And in his Progresse will I hope, perseuer,
To make their dayes and houres ro be delicious.
Thus Fame, and time, affoords their best indeauour
Vnto this royall match to be propitious:
Time in all pleasure through their liues will passe
Whilst Fame records their Fames inleaues of Brasse.

Times Progresse.

Yon Sonnes of Iudas and Achitophei,
Whose damn'd delights are treasons, bloud, & death:
Th' almighties power your haughty prides will quell,
And unlike your vassals, vessels of his wrath,
Let all that wish these Princes worse then well,
Be iudg'd and doom'd to euerlasting Scath,
For 'tis apparent, and experience prooues,
No hare preuailes, where great Ichouah loues.
To whose Omnipotent Eternall power,
I doe commit this blest beloued paire:
Oh let thy graces daily on them showre,
Let each of them be thine adopted Heire a
Raise them at last to thy Celestiall Bowre,
And feate them both in lasting glories Chaire.
In fine, their earthly dayes be long and blest:
And after bettred in eternall rest.

A Sonnet to the Imperious Maie­stick mirrour of King Iames, great Bri­taines Monarch.

GReat Phoebus spreads his Rayes on good & ill,
Dame Tellus feeds the Lyon and the Rat,
The smallest Sayles God AEols breath doth fill:
And Ttetic Harbots both the Whale and Sprat.
But as the Sunne doth quicken dying Plants,
So thy illustrious shine doth glad all hearts:
And as the Earth supplyes our needfull wants,
So doth thy bounty guerdon good desarts.
And like the aytie AEols pleasant gales,
Thou filst with Ioy the Sailes of rich and pore,
And as the Sea doth harbour Sprats and Whales,
So thou to high and low yeelds harbour flore.
Thus Sea, Ayre, Earth, and Titans fiery face,
Are Elementall Seruants to thy Grace.

To Life.

SInce that on earth thou wondrous wandring gest,
Arithmeticians neuer number can
The seuerall Lodgings thouhast tane in man,
In Fish, in Fowle, in tame or bruitish beast:
Since all by thee from greatest to the least,
Are squar'd (and well compar'd) vnto a span,
Oh fleeting Life take this [...]y counsell than,
Hold long possession in thy royall breast:
Dwell euer with the King, the Queene, the Prince,
The gracious Princesse, and her Princely Spouse.
In each of these thou hast a lasting house:
Which Fate, nor Death, nor Time, cannot conuince.
And when to change thy Lodging thou art driuen,
Thy selfe and they exalted by to Heauen.

To Death.

To thee, whose auaritious greedy mood,
Doth play a sweepe stake with all liuing things
And like a Hors-leech Quaffes the seuerall blood,
Of subiects, Abiects, Emperours and Kings:
That high and low, and all must feele thy stings,
The Lord, the Lowne, the Caitiffe and the Keasar,
A beggers death as much contentment brings
To thee, as did the fall of Iulius Caesar.
Then since the good and bad are all as one,
And Larkes to thee, no better are then Kites,
Take then the bad, and let the good alone,
Feed on base wretches, leaue the worthy wights,
With thee the wicked euermore will stay,
But from thee, Fame will take the good away.

To Eternity.

THou that beyond all things dost goes as farre,
That no Cosmographers could e're suruay.
Whose glory (brighter then great Phebus Carre)
Doth shine, where night doth ne're eclipse the day:
To thee I consecrate these Princes acts.
In thee alone let all their beings be:
Let all the measures of their famous tracts.
In the begin, but neuer end like thee.
And when thy Seruant Time, giues Life to Death,
And Death surrenders all their liues to Fame:
Oh then inspire them with celestiall breath,
With Saints and Martyrs to applaud thy name.
Thus vnto thee, (as thine owne proper rights)
Iconsecrate these matchles worthy wights.
Iohn Taylor.
FINIS.

TAYLORS FAREVVELL, TO THE TOWER BOTTLES.

THE ARGVMENT.

ABout three hundred and twenty yeares since, or thereabout, (I thinke in the Raigne of King Richard the Second) there was a guift giuen to the Tower, or to the Lieutenants thereof, for the time then and for euer beeing, which guift was two blacke Leather Bottles, or Bombards of Wine, from euery Ship that brought Wine into the Riuer of Thames; the which hath so continued vntill this day, but the Merchants finding themselues agreeued lately, because they thought the Bottles were made bigger then they were formerly wont to bee; did wage Law with the Lieutenant (Sir Geruis Helwis by Name) in which sute the Lieutenant had beene ouerthrowne, but for such witnesses as I found that knew his right for a long time in their owne knowledge. But I hauing had the gathering of these Wines for many yeares, was at last Discharged from my place because I would not buy it, which be­cause it was neuer bought or sold before, I would not or durst not venture vpon so vnhonest a Nouelty, it beeing sold indeed at so hugh a Rate, that who so bought it must pay thrice the value of it: where­vpon I tooke occasion to take leaue of the Bottles in this following Poem, in which the Reader must bee very melancholy, if the reading heereof doth not make him very merry.

IOHN TAYLOR.
BY your leaue Gentlemen, Ile make some sport,
Although I venture halfe a hang­ing for't:
But yet I will no peace or manners breake
For I to none but Leather bottles speake.
No anger spurres me forward, or despight
Insomuch plaine Verse I talke of wrong and Right.
The looser may speake, when the Winner wins,
And madly merrily my Muse begins.
Mad Bedlam Tom, assist me in thy Rags,
Lend me thy Army of foule Feinds and Hags:
Hobgoblins, Elues, faire Fayries, and foule Furies,
Let me haue twelue Groce of Infernail luries,
With Robin. Gooasellow and bloudie Borre
Assist my merry Muse, all, euery one.
I will not call to the a Pegassian Nine,
In this they shall not ayde me in a Line:
Their fauours I'le reserue till fitter time,
To grace some better businesse with my Rime,
Plaine home-spun stuffe shall now proceed from me,
Much like vnto the picture of we b Three.
And now I talke of three, just three we are,
Two false blacke bottles, and my selfe at jarre,
And Reader when yon reade our cause of strife,
You'le laugh or else lye downe, l'le lay my life,
But as remembrance lamely can rehearse,
In sport Ile rip the matter vp in Verse.
Yet first I thinke it fit here downe to set
By what meanes first. I with those Bottles met.
Then stroake your beard my Maisters and giue eare,
I was a Waterman twice Foure long yeare,
And liu'd in a Contented happy state,
Then turn'd the whirling wheele of fickle Fate,
[Page 125]From Water vnto Wine: Sir William Waad
D [...] freely, and for nothing turne my trade.
Ten yeares almost the place I did Retaine,
And c glean'd great Bacchus bloud from France and Spaine,
Few S [...]ips my visitation did escape,
That brought the spright fuil liquor of the Grape:
My Bottles and my selfe did oft agree,
Full to the top all merry came We three.
Yet alwayes 'twas my chance in Bacchus spight,
To come into the Tower vnfox'd vpright.
But as mens thoughts a world of wayes doe range,
So as Lieutenancs chang'd, did customes d change:
The Ancient vse vs'd many yeares before,
Was sold, vnto the highest Rate and more,
At such a price, that whosoe're did giue,
Must play the Thiefe, or could not sa [...]e and liue.
Which to my losse, I manifestly found
I am well sure it cost me thirty pound
For one yeare but before the next yeare come,
'Twas almost mounted to a e double summe:
Then I, in Scorne, Contempt, and vile Disgrace,
Discarded was, and quite thrust from my place,
There Bacchus almost cast me in the mire,
And I from Wine to Water did retire.
But when the blinde misiudging world did see,
The strange vnlook'd for parting of vs Three,
To heare but how the multitude did judge,
How they did mutter, mumble, prate and grudge,
That for some f faults I surely had committed,
I, in disgrace thus from my place was quitted.
These imputations grieu'd me to the heart,
(For they were caustesse and without desert)
And therefore, though no man aboue the Ground
That knew the Botles would giue Twenty g pound
Rather then I would branded be with shame,
And beare the burthen of desertlesse blame,
To be an Owle, contemp [...]uously b [...]wondred,
I would h giue threescore, fourescore, or a hundred.
For I did vow, although I were vndone,
I would redeeme my credit ouetrunne,
And 'tis much better in a layle to rot,
To suffer Begg'ry, Slauery, or what not,
Then to be blasted with that wrong of wrongs,
Which is the poyson of Backbiting tongues.
Hoysted aloft vnto this mounting tax [...],
Bound fast in Bonds in Parchment and with waxe,
Time gallop'd, and brought on the payment day,
And for three Moneths I eighteene pounds did pay
Then I confesse, I play'd the Thiefe in graine,
And for one Bottle commonly stole twaine.
But so who buyes the place, and meanes to thriue,
Must many times for one take foure or fiue.
For this I will maintaine and verifie,
It is an office no true man can buy.
And by that reason sure I should say well,
It is vnfit for any man to sell:
For till at such an extreame rate I bought,
To filch or steale, I scarcely had a thought.
And I dare make a vow 'fore God and men,
I neuer playd the Thiefe so much as then.
But at the last my friendly starres agreed,
That from my heauy bonds I should be i freed:
Which if I euer come into againe,
Let hanging be the Guerdon for my paine.
Then the k old custome did againe begin,
And to the Tower I brought the Bottles in,
For which for seruing more then halfe a yeare,
I (with much Loue) had wages and good cheere,
Till one l most valiant, ignorantly stout,
Did buy, and ouer-buy, and buy me out.
Thus like times Footeball, was I often tost
In Dock out Nettle, vp downe, blest and crost,
Out-fac'd and fac'd, grac'd and againe disgrac'd,
And as blind Fortune pleas'd, displac'd or plac'd.
And thus, for ought my m Augury can s [...]e
Diuorc'd and parted euer are we Three.
Old Nabaoth, my case much is farre worse then thine,
Thou but the Vineyard lost, I lost the Wine:
Two witnesses (for bribes) the false accus'd,
(Perhaps) some prating Knaues haue me abus'd:
Yet thy wrong's more then mine, the reason why,
For thou wast n ston'd to Death, so am not I.
But as the Dogs, did eate the flesh and gore
Of Iezabell, that Royall painted Whore,
So may the Gallowes eate some friends of mine,
That first striu'd to remoue me from the Wine.
[Page 126]This may by some misfortune be their lot,
Although that any way I wish it not.
But farewell bottles neuer to returne,
Weepe you in Sacke, whilst I in Al [...] will mourne;
Yet though you haue no reason, wit, or sence,
I'le sencelesse caide you for your vile offence,
That from your foster Father me would slide
So dwell with Ignorance, a blind sold guide.
For who in Britaine knew (but o I) to vse you,
And who but I knew how for to abuse you;
My speech to you, no action sure can beare,
From Scandala magratum I am cleare.
When Vpland Tradesmen thus dares take in hand
A watry businesse, they not vnderstand:
It did presage things would turne topsie turny,
And the conclusion of it would be scuruie,
But leauing him vnto the course of Fate,
Bottles let you and I a while debate,
Call your extrauaga [...]t wild humours home,
And thinke but whom you are departed from;
I that for your sakes haue giuen stabs and stripes,
To glue you sucke from Hogsheads and from Pipes,
I that with p [...]ines and care you long haue nurst,
Oft fill'd you with the best, and left the worst.
And to maintaine you full, would often peirce,
The best of Batts, a Puncheon, or a Teirce,
Whil'st Pipes and Sack buts were the Instruments
That I playdon, to fill your full contents.
With Bastart, Sack, with Allegant, and Rhenish,
Your hungry mawes I often did replenish.
With Malmesie, Muskadell, and Corcica,
With White, Red, Claret, and Liatica,
With Hollocke, Sherant, Mallig, Canara,
I stufe your sides vp with a surserara,
That though the world was hard, my care was still,
To search and labour you might haue your fill,
That when my Master did or sup or dine,
He had his choyce of p fifteene sorts of Wine.
And as good wines they were I dare be bold.
As any Seller in this Land did hold.
Thus from these Bottles I made honour spring.
Besitting for the Castle of a King.
This Royastie my labour did maintaine.
When I had meat and wages for my paine.
Ingratefull Bettles, take it not amisse
That I, of your vnkindnesse tell you this,
Sure if you could speake, you could say in briefe,
Your greatest want, was still my greatest griefe.
Did I not often in my bosome hugge you,
And in mine armes would (like a Father) hugge you,
Haue I not run through Tempests, Gusts, and Stormes.
And me with danger in strange various former,
All times and tydes, with, and against the streame.
Your welfare euer was my labours sheame.
Sleet, Raine, Haile, Winde, or Winters frosty chaps,
Ioues Lightning, or his dreadfull Thunderclaps,
When all the Elements in one consoire,
Sad earth, sharpe ayre, rough water, flashing fire.
Haue warr'd on one another, as if all
This world of nothing, would to nothing fall.
When showring Haile-shot, from the storming heau'n
Nor blustering Gusts by AEols belching driuen,
Could hold me backe, then oft I searcht and sought,
And found, and vnto you the purchase brought.
All weathers, faire, foule, Sunshine, wet and dry,
I trauail'd still, your paunches to supply.
Oft haue I fought, and swagger'd in your Right,
And fill'd you still by eyther sleigh [...]t or might.
And in th'Exchequer I stood for your Cause,
Else had you beene confounded by the Lawes.
I did produce such q witnesses which crost
The Merchants sute, else you had quite beene lost,
And (but for me) apparantly 'tis knowne,
You had beene Kicksie winsie ouer throwne,
And for my Seruice and my much paines taken,
I am cashier'd, abandon'd, and forsaken.
I knew it well, and said, and swore it too.
That he that bought you, would himselfe vndoe,
And I was promist, that when he gaue o're,
That I should fill you, as I did before,
For which foure yeares with patience I did stay,
Expecting he would breake or run away.
Which though it be falne out as I expected,
Yet neuerthelesse my Seruice is rejected,
Let men judge if I haue not cause to write
Against my Fortune, and the worlds despight,
That in my prime of strengh, so long a r space,
I toyl'd and drudg'd, in such a gainelesse place,
Whereas the best part of my life I spent,
And to my power gaue euery man content,
In all which time which I did then remaine,
I gaue no man occasion to complaine,
For vnto all that know me, I appeale,
To speake if well or ill I vs'd to deale,
Or if there be the least abuse in me,
For which I thus from you should sundred bee.
For though my profit by you was but small,
Yet sure my Gaine was Loue in generall.
And that I doe not lye nor speake amisse,
I can bring hundreds that can witnesse this,
Yet for all this, I euer am put off,
And made a scorne, a By-word and a scoffe.
It must some villaines information be,
That hath maliciously abused me,
[Page 127]But if I knew the misinformingelfe.
I would write lines should make him hang himselfe.
Be he a great man that doth vse me ill,
(That makes his will his Law, and Law his will)
I hold a poore man may that great man tell,
How that in doing ill, he doth not well,
But Bottles blacke, once more haue at your breech,
For vnto you I onely bend my speech
Full foureteene times had Sols illustrious Rayes,
Ran through the Zodiacke, when I spent my dayes
To conserue, reserue, prestrue and deserue,
Your loues, whē you with wants were like to starue.
A Groce of Moones, and twice 12. months besides,
I haue attended you all time and tides.
[...] I gain'd Twelue. penez by you all that time,
May I to Tyburne for promotion Climbe,
For though the blinde world vnderstand it not,
I know there's nothing by you can be got,
Except a drunken pate, a scuruy word,
And now and then be tumbled ouer boord,
And though these mischiefes I haue kept me fro,
No other Bottleman could e're doe so,
'Tis knowne you haue beene stab'd, throwne in the Thames,
And he that fild you beaten, with exclaimes,
Marchants, who haue much abused bin
Which Exigents, I neuer brought you in,
But I with peace and quietn [...] got more,
Then any brabling o're could doe before.
The Warders knowes, each Bottleman (but I)
Had alwayes a crack'd crowns [...] blacke eye,
Oft beaten like a Dog, with a s [...]arch'd faee.
Turn'd empty, beaten backe with vile disgrace.
These iniuries my selfe did bring [...] q [...]iet,
And still with peace I fild you free from Ryot.
My labours haue beene ded care to you,
And you haue dealt with me, as with a Iew,
For vnto thousand witn [...]ss [...]s 'tis knowne.
I did esteeme your welfare as mine owne,
But an obiection from my words may runne,
That seeing nothing by you may be wonne,
Why I doe keepe this deale of doe about you
When as I say, I can li [...] best wi [...]o [...]t you.
I answer, though no profit you doe bring,
Yet there is many a profitable thing,
Which I of s M [...]s migh [...] often buy,
Which vnto me would yeeld c [...]d [...]ty
And I expected when the time should be
That I should fill you, as 'tw [...] prom [...]t me,
Whereby some other profit might be got,
Which I in form [...]r times rem [...]d not,
All which could do the C [...]to [...] [...] t no wrong,
Which to repeate here, would [...] ouer-long,
But I was sl [...]ighted with most vile disgrace,
And one that was my Prentise place'd in u place. x
But holla, holla, Muse come backe come backe,
I speake to none out you, you Bottles blacke,
You that are now turn'd Monsters, most ingrate,
Where you haue cause to loue most, most doe hate,
You that are of good manners quite d [...]priu'd,
Worse then the Beast from whence you are deriu'd,
If you be good for nothing but what's naught,
Then sure you haue bin better sed then taught:
Besides the world will taxe me, and say still
The fault was mine, that nurtur'd you [...]o ill.
Perfisting thus in your iniurious wrong.
It shewes y'are drunke with being E [...] long.
Long fasting sure, hath made you wea [...] and dull,
For you are stedyest, when you are most full.
Me thinkes I heare you say the fault's no [...] yours,
You are commanded by Superiou [...] powers,
But if the choyce were yours, you had much rather
That I, than any one the Wines should gather.
Alasse poore fooles, I see your force is weake,
Complaine you cannot, wanting power to speake;
If you had speech, it may be you would tell,
How with you and the Merchants I dealt well,
But 'tis no matter though you silent be,
My fourteene yeares long seruice speakes for me.
And for the Merchants still my friends did proue,
I'le tell them somewhat to req [...]ite their Loue.
First let their wisdomes but collect and summe,
How many ships with wine doe yearely come,
And they will finde that all these Bottles shall
Not fill y nine Hogsheads, at the most of all,
Then he that for them Three Tonne dares to giue,
The ease is pl [...]i [...]e, he must or beg or thieue.
I doe not say that you haue beene abus'd,
But you may partly guesse how you were vs'd,
Indeed z I thinke we nere so soone had parted,
Had friendly outsides bin but friendly harted,
The sweet bate couers the d [...]ceiuing hookes,
And false harts can put on good wards and lookes.
All is not gold the Prouerbesayes that g [...]ters,
And I could with their tongues were full of Blisters,
That with their flatt'ring diligence most double,
Themselues, and you, and I, thus much did trouble,
For misinforming p [...]l [...]ry Knaues must be
The inst [...]n [...] of such indignity.
But as the fairest Gardens haue some weeds
And mongst the cleanest flocke, some [...]cab'd sheepe breeds.
Or as the Tare amongst the wheat doth grow,
Good onely for what's ill, yet makes a show.
[Page 127]So there's no greatnesse fixed on the ground,
But Claw backe Sycophants may there be found,
For 'tis a Maxime held in euery Nation,
Great men are waited on by Adulation,
No doubt but some doth to the Court resort,
And sure the Tower must imitate the Court,
As Caesars Pallace may (perhaps) haue many,
So Caesars Castle cannot say not any.
I haue found some that with each wind would mo [...]e
With harts all hatred, and with tongues all Loue,
Who with hats mou'd, would take me by the fist,
With Complements of honest Iacke how ist?
I'm glad to see thee well with all my heart,
Long haue I long'd to drinke with thee a quart,
I haue beleeu'd this Drosse had beene pure Gold,
When presently I haue beene bought and sold
Behind my backe (for no desert and Cause)
By those that kindly Cap'd and kist their Clawer.
For one of them (an ancient Reuerend Scribe)
Receiued forty shillings for a Bribe,
On purpose so to bring the case about
To put another in, and thrust me out,
Long was the time this businesse was a brewing,
Vntill fit oportunity accruing,
I was displac'd, yet spight the bribed Sharke,
The man that gaue the bribe did misse the marke.
O Bottles, Bottles, Bottles, Bottles, Bottles,
Platoes Diuine workes, not great Aristoteles,
Did ne're make mention of a guist so Royall,
Was euer bought and sold like slaues disloyall.
For since King Richard second of that name,
(I thinke your high Prerogatius you Claime:
And thus much here to write I dare be bold
You are a guist not giuen to be sold,
For sence or reason neuer would allow,
That you should e're be bought and sold till now.
Phylosophers with all their Documents,
Not aged Times with all their monuments,
Did euer mention such vntoward Elues,
That did more idlely cast away themselues.
To such low ebbe your basenesle now doth shrinke,
Whereas you yearely did make thousands drinke.
The hatefull title now to you is left,
Y'are instruments of begg'ry and of Theft.
But when I fild you (I dare boldly sweate)
From all these imputations you were cleare,
Against which I dare, dare, who dare or can,
To answer him and meet him man to man,
Truth armes me, with the which I will hold Bias,
Against the shocke of any false Golias.
Bottles you haue not wanted of your fill,
Since you haue left me, by your heedlesle will.
You scarce haue tasted penury or want,
(For cunning Theeues are seldome ignorant)
Yet many times you haue beene fild with trash,
Scarce good enough your dirty skins to wash.
All this I know, and this I did deuine,
But all's one, Draffe is good enough for Swine.
I doe not here inueigh, or yet Enuy,
The places profit, none can come thereby,
And in my hand it lyes (if so I please)
To spoyle it, and not make it worth a Pease.
And to the world I'le cause it to appeare.
VVho e're giues for you twenty pounds a yeare [...]
Must from the Marchants pilfer fourescore more,
Or else he cannot liue and pay the score.
And to close vp this point, I say in briefe,
VVho buyes it is a Begger or a Thiefe,
Or else a Foole, or to make all agree,
He may be Foole, Thiefe, Begger, all the Three,
So you false Bottles to you both adieu,
The Thames for me, not a Denier for you.
FINIS.

VERBVM SEMPITERNVM.

DEDICATED TO THE MOST GRACIOVS AND ILLVSTRIOVS KING CHARLES

MOst mightie Soveraigne, to your hands I giue
The summe of that, which makes Vs euer liue:
I humbly craue acceptance at your hand,
And rest your Servant ever to Command,
IOHN TAYLOR.

To the Reader.

THou that this little Booke dost take in hand,
Before thou Iudge, bee sure to vnderstand:
And as thy kindnesse thou extend'st to mee,
At any time Ile doe as much for thee.
Thine, IOHN TAYLOR.

Genesis.

IEhouah heere of nothing, all things makes,
And man before all things his God forsakes.
Yet by th'Almighties mercy 'twas decreed,
Heau'ns Haire should satisfie for maus misdeed.
Mans age is long, and all are great, not good,
And all (saue eight) are drowned in the Flood.
Old Noah, second sire to worst and best,
Of Cham the eurst, Iaphet and Sem blest,
Of Abrahams starre-like numberlesse encrease,
Of of-springs of-springs, and his rest in peace.
Of Israels going into AEgypt, and
Of their abode and liuing in that Land.
Of Iosephs, brethren faithlesse, and vnkind,
Of his firme Faith, and euer constant mind.
He pardons them that did his death deuise,
He s [...]es his Childrens children, and he dyes.

Exodus.

Th' increase of Iacobs stocke is growne past number,
And feare of them, the AEgyptean King doth cumber.
Who giuing credit to the Inchanters tales,
Commands to kill all Infant Hebrew Males.
But Moses is preserued in the Riuer,
To be a Captaine Israel to deliuer.
Sterne Pharaobs cruell Adamantine heart
Will not permit Gods people to depart.
Ten plagues frō heau'n, are on th' AEgyptians powr'd
Bloud, frogs, lice, flyes, beasts, scabs, haile, thundring showr'd.
Grashoppers, darknesse, death of first borne men,
These were the AEgyptian plagues in number ten.
The Isra'lites are freed, and Pharaobs Host,
In chasing them, are in the red Sea lost.
A cloud doth shrowd them from the burning day,
By night a fierie Piller leades the way.
The murmuring people fearingfamine, railes.
God raines down Manna from the Heauen & quailes,
The Law is writ in stone (to Moses giuen)
By Gods owne hand, to guide man vnto Heauen,
The Ceremoniall Sacrifice is taught,
As types of whom out blest redemption's wrought.

Leniticus.

Heere man is shew'd, it is the Almightles will,
To guard the good, and to correct the ill.
The truest Seruice of the highest stands,
In no mans fancie, but as he commands.
And cause men are so apt from Grace to swerue,
He shewes them here, their Maker how to serue.
The Leuites are appointed by the Lord
To preach vnto his chosen flocke the word.

Numbers.

Old Iacobs blessed off spring numbred are,
Their valiant Captaines and their men of Warre.
Curst Korah with his kinsman desp [...]rate Dat [...]n,
And bold Abiram (three sworne Sonnes of Sathad)
Rebell 'gainst Moses, with their tongues vnhallowed,
And by the earth by heau'ns just Vengeance swallowed.
The Israelites to fell confusion brings,
Great Og and Sib [...]n misbeleeuing Kings.
Where Balaam thought to eurse, of force he blest.
And by his Asse was told how he transgrest.
Fiue Midian Monarchs, Iudaes Host doth slay.
And all their spoyle diuided as a pray.
The Land of C [...]naan, measur'd is, and found,
That in it all things plenteous doe abound.

Deut [...]ronomy.

This Booke againe the Law of God repeats.
With blessings, cursings, teachings, and with threats.
Meeke Moses dyes, lyes in an vnknowne too me.
And Nuns Son ( Iosuab) doth supply his roome,

Ioshua.

Great Captaine Ioshua, great in faith and courage,
Through greatest dangers valiantly doth forrage.
He passeth Iordane with his mighty host,
And to the Tribes diuideth Coast from Coast.
The harlot ( Rahab) doth preserue the Spyes,
She knowes the Lord that reignes aboue the skyes.
They all passe Iordan, which is parted dry.
Whilst they securely match inuasiu [...]ly.
The feare of Canan [...]tes doth much increase,
Ierichoes tane, and Manna here doth cease.
Vile Achan closely steales the cursed prey,
And Israels beaten from the Wals of Ai,
Fiue Kings are hang'd, and Phebus standeth still,
At Iosuah's prayer, whilst he his Foes did kill.
Iust one and thirty mighty Kings were slaine,
Ere Israel could in peace the Land attaine.
Which being done, the bloudy warres doe cease.
Their faithfull Captains ( Ioshuah) dyes in peece.

Iudges.

Iuda is Captaine, Anaks Sonnes are flaine,
The C [...]nanites as vassals doe remaine.
The Israelites rebell and serue strange Gods,
And are all plagu'd with heau'ns correcting reds.
The men of Midia, Isra'l much did greeue,
Stout Gideon comes their sorrowes to releeue.
And is Gods Spirit doth his Seruant moue,
He ouerthrowes Baals Altar and his Groue.
A womans hand King Iabins Hoste doth quaile,
And kild his Captaine Sis'ra with a naile.
Abimeleh (by wrong) the kingdome gaines,
A woman dashe oat his ambitious braines.
Victorious Iph [...]ab, rashly sweares (not good)
And ends his conquest in his Daugliters blood.
Great Sampson's borne, whoseuer marchlesse strength
Orethrowes the Philistims in bredth and length,
Faire flattering Dal [...]lab, her Lord deceiues,
He's [...]ane himselfe, himselfe of life bereaues.
The Beniamites abus'd a Leuites wife,
For which all but sixe hundred lost their life.

Ruth.

(According to the flesh) this woman Ruth,
Was ancient Grandame to th'eternall Truth,
And though the from the M [...]abites doth come,
It shewes th' Almighty in all Lands hath some.

1. Samuel.

The Prophet Samuel's borne and Elies Sonnes
To sinne and flat confusion headlong runnes.
The Isralites are by the Lord forsaken,
And by the Philistins the Arke is taken.
The figur'd presence of this all in All,
Doth make the Diuels inuention Dagon fall.
God takes his people to his loue againe,
The Ark's brought backe, the Philistines are slaine.
The Sonnes of Samuel wrong their Fathers trust,
By partiall Indgements and with bribes vniust.
Saul seeking straying Asses, findes a Crowne,
And is annointed King in Raman towne.
The fell Philistians Isr [...]el doth oppresse,
King Saul doth proudly gainst the Lord transgresse,
God dids kill Agag, Saul will haue him spar'd,
His will more than his Gods, he doth regard.
Goliah armed leades an hoste from Gath,
Defies the Lord of Hosts, prouokes his wrath.
Yong Dauid comes, and in his hand a sling,
And with a stone the Gyant downe doth ding.
Old Ishays Sonne before the Kings preferr'd,
And Dauid hath Sauls Daughter for reward,
Th' ingratefull King, seekes Dauids causlesse death,
True hearted Ionathan preserues his breath.
Saul leaues his God, and to a Witch doth goe,
And so himselfe, himselfe doth ouerthrow.
The Philistines his childrens bloud doe spill,
And with his Sword King Saul, King Saul did kill;
[Page 131] Saul leaues his God, and to a Witch doth goe,
And so himselfe, himselfe doth ouerthrow.
The Philistines his childrens bloud did spill,
And with his Sword King Saul King Saul did kill.

2. Samuel.

King Deuids royall heart is fild with woe,
For Ionathan and Saul, his friend, and foe,
In Regall state he liues and flourisheth,
And loues Sauls Grandchild lame Mephibosheth.
Affection blinds him on Vriahs wife,
T' accomplish which, her husband lost his life.
The King's reprou'd by Nathan, and repents,
And by repenting, heau'ns high wrach preuents.
Incestuous Amnon, Abs [...]lon doth kill,
For forcing Tamar gainst her Virgin will,
He's reconcil'd vnto his louing Sire,
And proudly to the Kingdome doth aspire.
The old King flees, and ouer Iordane hies,
The Sonne pursuing, and the Father flyes,
Achitophel himselfe hangs in dispaire,
And Absolon dyes hanged by the haire,
The King for his rebellious Sonne doth mourne,
His people numbred are at his returne,
The Lord is wrath, the pestilence increast,
That seuenty thousand dye, and then it ceast.

1. Kings.

The Kingly Prophet (valiant Dauid dyes.
His Throne is left to Salomon the wise,
False Adoniah, Ioab, Shimei kild,
By his command, as erst his Father wild.
With speed he sends for workmen from farte Coasts,
To build a Temple to the Lord of Hosts,
Before or after him was neuer such,
That had of wisedome or of wealth so much.
A thousand women, some wed, some vnwed,
This wise King to Idolatry misled.
He dyes and's buried by his fathers toome,
And Rehoboam doth succeed his roome.
Now Israel from Iudah is diuided,
Both Kingdomes by bad Kings are badly guided.
Yet God to Iacobs seed doth promise keepe,
And raises faithfull Pastors for his sheepe.

2. Kings.

Eliah worketh wonders with his word,
By inspiration of the liuing Lord:
He's taken vp aliue, and his blest Spirit,
Doth doubly in Elisha [...]s breast inherit.
Some Kings doe gouerne well, most gouerne ill,
And what the good reformes, the bad doth spill.
Till Isr'el, Iudah. King and Kingdome's lost,
To great Nebu [...]hadn [...]zzar and his host.

1. Chronicles.

Here euery Tribe is numbred to their names,
To their memorials, and immortall fames,
And Dauids acts t'instruct misguided men,
Are briefly here recorded all agen.

2. Chronicles.

The state of Israel, I [...]dah. and their Kings,
This Booke againe, againe, Recordance brings.
Their plagues of plague, of [...]mine [...] [...]l [...]uery, sword,
For their contem [...]ing heau'ns All sauing word,

M [...]ss [...] Pra [...]er.

M [...]ss [...] almost drown'd in black despaire,
Gaines mercy by repentance and by prayer.

Ezrs.

The Persian Monarch ( C [...]) granteth haue,
The Iewes once more their freedom [...] should receiue.
When at Ierus [...]l [...]m they make ab [...]d.
They all with zeale [...] the house of God.
Malicious men (with poysnous [...] fild)
Makes Arta [...] [...]irde [...] tho'e that build.
Yet God so workes, that Israels is lo [...]e and z [...]ale,
Res [...]mes againe their ancient Church and weale.

Nehemiah.

The booke of Ezra doth concord with this,
Commanding good, forbidding what's amisse.
And godly Nehemiah [...] reform'd,
What sinne and Sathan had long time deform'd.

Esther.

Here he that dwels in heauen doth deride.
Queene Vshy's and ambitious Hamans pride,
The Iewes are sau'd by Esters suite from death,
And Haman and his Sons; hang'd, loose their breath.
Poore Mordecay is held in high account,
And to great greatnesse humbly he doth mount.
Thus God doth raise all those his Lawes doe seeke,
He layes the lofty low, ex [...]l [...]s the meeke.

Iob.

No lusse of Sonnes and Daughters, goods and all,
Make not this man into impatience fall,
Assailing Sathan tempring wife, false friends,
With perfect patience he [...]ll woe [...] defends,
I [...] [...] (quoth he) into this world,
And [...]d her [...] I shall be hur [...]d.
God giues and takes according to his word,
And blessed euer bee the liuing Lord.

Ps [...]lmes.

The blessed Kingly Prophet sweetly sings,
[...]nall praises to the King of Kings.
Gods Power, Iustice, Mercy, Fauour, looke
For they are comprehended in this Booke.

Prouerbs.

The wisest man that euer man begot,
In heauenly Prouerbs, shewes what's good what's not.

Ecclessiastes.

Health, strength, wit, valour, wordly wisdome, pelfe,
All's nought, and worse then vanity it selfe.

Salomons song.

This Song may well be call'd, the Song of Songs,
It to the heauenly Bride, and Groome belongs.
It truely shewes Christs loue vnto his loue,
His Church, his Wife, his Virgin Spouse, his Doue.

Isa [...]ah.

This worthy Prophet truely doth foretell,
How Christ shall come to conquer death and hell,
Rewards vnto the godly he repeats,
And to the godlesse he denounceth threats.

Ieremy.

This Man of God long time before foreshoes,
Ierusalems Captiuity and woes.

Lamentations.

He wishes here, his head a fountaine deepe,
That he might weepe, weepe, nothing else but weep.
That he might gush forth flowing streames fo teares
For Iuaah's thraldome, misery, and feares.

Eze [...]hiel.

In Babylon this Prophet Captiue is,
And there he prophesies of bale and blisse.
How all must come to passe the Lord hath said,
How Iudgement surely comes, although dalayed.

Daniel.

The Kings darke dreame, the Prophet doth expound,
For which, he's highly honour'd and renown'd.
Nabuchadnezzar doth an Image frame,
Commands all paine of death t'adore the same.
Three godly Iewes by no meanes will fall downe,
And for contempt are in the fornace throwne.
Where, midst the flames vnhurt they sweetly sing.
Which wonder doth conuert the tyrant King.
Here Daniel Prophesies of Christ to come,
Of Babel, Persia, Gra [...]ia, and Rome.

Hosea.

He tels misgouern'd Israel their sinnes,
And how the losse of grace, destruction winnes.

Ioel.

This Prophet tels the stubborne. hearted Iewes,
How heau'ns consuming wrath apace ensues.
He therefore doth perswade them to contrition,
And by contrition they shall haue remission.

Amos.

Mans thanklesse heart, and Gods vnmeasur'd loue,
This Prophet doth to Isr'els faces proue.

Obadiah.

He comforts Pudah (ouer-prest with woes.)
And prophesies destruction of their foes.

Ionah.

Here Ionah tels the Nini [...]itrs, except
Repentance wrath of Heauen doe intercept:
In forty dayes, high, low, rich, poore, great, small,
The Lords hot fury shall consume them all.
With hearts vn [...]aign'd, the sinfull Citie mournes,
The Lord grants mercy, Ionah backe returnes.

Micah.

He speakes of Isr'els and of Iuda's crimes,
And tels them their confusion comes betimes.

Nah [...]m.

The Nini [...]ites againe forsake the Lord,
And are subdu'd by the Assirian sword.
This Prophet comforts those that are opprest,
And tels the godly, they shall be releast,

Habakkuk.

He doth be waile th' oppression of the poore,
For mercy, humbly he doth God implore.
To keepe the Captiu'd Iewes from fell despaire,
He te [...]ches them a heauenly forme of Prayer.

Zephania [...].

He fils the good with hope, the bad with [...]eare,
And tels the Iewes their thraldome draweth neere.

Haggay.

He exhorteth them to patience in their paine,
And bids them build the Temple once againe.

Zachariah.

He tels the Iewes why they haue plagued beene,
He bids them shunne Idolatry, and sinne.

Malachi.

For sinne he doth repro [...]e both Peince and Priest,
And shewes the comming both of Iohn and Christ.
Which Christ shall be a Sauiour vnto all.
That with true faith obey his heauo [...]ly call.

Ap [...]ryph [...].

These bookes doe all in generall intimate
The State of good men, and the reprobate.
In many places they doe seeme to vary,
And beare a sence from Scripture quite contrary,
In Tobis and Dame Indith disagrees,
From Text, and Ra [...]es in the Machab [...]es.
For which the Church hath euer held it fit.
To place them by themselues, from holy writ.
FINIS.

SALVATOR MVNDI.

DEDICATED. TO THE HIGH MAIESTIE OF QVEENE MARY.

GReat Queene, I haue with paines and labour tooke
From out the greatest Booke this little Booke.
And with great Reuerence I haue cull'd from thence,
All things that are of greatest consequence.
And though the Volumne and the Worke bee small,
Yet it containes the summe of all in ALL.
To you I giue it, with a heart most feruent,
And rest your humble Subiect, and your Seruant.
IOHN TAYLOR.

To the Reader.

HEere Reader then maist read for little cost.
How thou wast ranso [...]'d, when thou quite wast lost.
Mans gracelesuesse, and Gods exceeding grace,
Thou here maist reade and see in little space.
IOHN TAYLOR.

Mathew.

LOe here the blessed Sonne of God and Man
(New borne) who was before all worlds began,
Of heau'nly seed th'eternall liuing Rocke
Of humane race, of Kingly Dauids stocke.
Our blest Redeemer, whom the Prophets old
In their true preachings had so oft foretold.
In figures, ceremonies, types and tropes,
He here sulfils their words, confirmes their hopes.
The worlds saluations sole and totall summe,
Poore Mankinds Sauiour, IESVS CHRIST is come.
From married Mary, wife and Virgin, springs
This heauenly, earthly, supreame King of Kings.
He's naked borne, and in a manger layd,
Where he and's Mother (blessed wife and maid)
Are by the wite men sought, and seeking found,
And hauing found, their ioyes doe all abound,
Where they their loue, their zeale, their faith vnfold,
And offer incense, myrthe, and purest gold.
False-hearted Herod seeketh to destroy
This new borne Infant, our eternall ioy.
But Ioseph by a dreame is warn'd by night,
T'ward AEgypt with the Babe to take his flight.
Amongst th' AEgyptians be not longsoiournes,
But backe to Naz'reth he againe returnes.
To end the Law, the Babe was circumcis'd,
And then by Iohn in Iordane was baptiz'd.
When loe the Father from his glorious Throne,
Sends downe the Holy Ghost vpon his Sonne.
In likenesse of a pure vnspotted Doue,
Which did his Birth and Baptis me both approue.
Now subtill Sathan he attempts and tempts him,
And fasting, to the wildernesse exempts him.
But Iesus power the soule siends power destroyd,
Commanding Sathan hence, Auoyd Auoyd.
The fearefull Diuell doth slee. Christ goes and prea­ches,
And in the Mountaine multitudes he reaches.
He said, Repentance wipes away transgressings,
And to the godly he pronounced blessings.
[Page 134]Hee makes the lame to goe, the blind to see,
Deafe heare, dumbe, speake, the leapers cleansed be.
The diuels from the possessed out he draue,
The dead are rais'd, the poore the Gospell haue.
Such things he doth, as none but God can doe,
And all's to bring his flock his fold vnto.
All that are laden come to me (quoth he)
And I will ease you, therefore come to me.
You of your heauy sinnes I doe acquite,
My yoake is easie and my burden's light.
Vpon Mount Taber there our blest Messias,
Doth shew himselfe with Moses and Elias.
Yet all these mightie wonders that he wrought,
Nor all the heauenly teachings that he taught,
The stiffe neckd stubborne Iewes could not conuert,
But they ramaine obdurate, hard of heart.
The man (quoth some) by whom these things are done,
It is the Carpenters, poore Iosephs Sonne.
Some said how be these things to a passe did bring
By power of Belzebub th [...]insernall King.
Thus with the poyson of their enuious tongues,
They guerdon good with ill, and right with wrongs,
His owne not knowes him, Iudas doth betray him,
To Annas and to Caiphas they conuey him.
From Caiphas backe to Annas, and from thence
Is sent this euerlasting happy Prince.
Thus is this death, this sir [...], this Sathan-killer,
Mongst sinnefull wretches tost from post to Piller.
He's slouted, spitted on, derided, stript, [...]
He's most vnmercifully scourg'd, and whipt.
By Impious people, he's blasphem'd and rail'd,
And of the Iewes in (scorne) as King is hail'd.
He like a Lambe vnto his death it led,
Nail'd on the Crosse for man, his heart bloud shed,
He (after three dayes) glorious doth arise,
He leaues the sinnefull earth, and mounts the skyes.
But first to his Disciples he appeures,
Where he their drooping halfe dead Spirits cheares.

Marke.

Saint Marke declares how blest baptizing Iohn,
Fore-runner was of Gods eternall Son.
Which Iohn in Wildernesse baptizes, teaches,
And of contrition and remishon preaches.
Our Sauiour calls no Pharisees or Scribes,
Or princely people out of Iudahs Tribes.
But Simon, Andrew, Iames and Iohn are those,
Poore toy ling Fishermen which Iesus chose,
To shew that with the humblest smallest things,
God greatest matters to perfection brings.
By sundry wondrous workes our Sauiour Iesus,
From sinne and Sathan lab'reth to release vs.
And in requitall the Ingratefull Iewes
Deuise their blest Redeemer to abuse.
Some inwardly doe hate him, some belye him,
His Seruants all for sake him, or deny him.
But Peter thou wast bless in [...]hy dyniall.
Orthy presuming thou hast [...] the tryall.
Repentance was [...] away thy [...]nities crimes,
And thou a parterp [...] to after times,
The Sonne and Heire of neuer sading Heau'n,
Into the hands of sinfull me [...]s giuen.
He dyes, he's buried, and in glory rises,
Triumphing ouer all his foes deuises,

S. Luke.

Heere Mary and old Zacharias sings,
In ioyfull manner to the King of Kings.
And aged Simeon in his armed did take,
The Lord of life and doth reioycings make,
Christ teaches, preaches mercy vnto all,
That by amendment will for mercy call.
He's tane, and by false witnesses accus'd,
He's beaten, scoffed, scorned and abus'd.
He's hang'd vpon the Crosse betwixt two theeues,
The one doth rails on him, and one beleeues.
He dies, he's buried; tising he doth quell
And conquer all his soes, sin, death, and hell.

B. Iohn.

In the beginning was th'eternall Word,
The Word with God was, and that Word the Lord,
In the beginning the same Word with God
Was, and for euer hath with him abead,
With it were all things made, and made was nought
Without this Word, the which was made or wrought
Here Christs Diuinity is told by Iohn,
The blessed Trinitie, one three, three one.
How God had now perform'd the oath he swore,
To Abram, and to Israel long before.
How Christ should come to ransome Aaa [...]es losse,
And satisfie Gods Iustice on the crosse,
Though times and places farre a sunderb.,
Yet Prophets and Euangelists agree.
In Iesus birth, his Doctrine, life and death,
Whereby our dying Soules ga [...] ne liuing breath.
If all things should be writ which [...]rst was done,
By Iesus Christ, (Gods euerlasting Sonne)
From Cratch to Crosse, from Cradle to his tombe,
To hold the Bookes, the world would not be roome.

Acts.

Th' Apostles praising God, and singing Songs,
The holy Ghost in fierie clouen tongues,
Descends vpon them, who are all inspir'd,
With learned lang [...]ages adorn'd admir'd.
Saint Peter preaching, tels the people plaine,
How they the liuing Lord of life had slaine.
Some slout and mocke, remaining stubborne. hearted.
And many Soules peruerted are conuerted.
The Church increases, daily numbers comes,
And to the Gospels furth'ring giue great Summes.

Acts.

False Ananias and his faithlesse wife,
In dreadfull manner lost their wretched life.
The enuious people stone the Martye Steuen,
He praying for his foes, leaues earth for Heauen.
The Churches Arch foe, persecuting Saul,
Is made a conuert, and a preaching Paul.
He's clapt in Prison, manacled nad fetter'd,
And through his troubles, still his zeale is better'd.
Th Apostle Iames, by Herod's put to death,
And Herod eat with Lice, loft hatefull breath.
Th' increasing Church amongst the Gentiles spreds,
By N [...]re, Paul, and Peter, lost their heads.

Romanes.

Th' Apostle Paul from Corinth writes to Rome,
To strength their faith, and tell them Christ is come.
He shewes how high and low, both Iew and Greeke
Are one with God, who faithfully him seeke.
He tels how sinne in mortall bodies lu [...]kes,
How we are sau'd by faith, and not by workes.
In louing tearmes, the people he doth moue,
To Faith, to Hope, to Charity, and Loue.

1. Corinth [...].

Paul to Corinthus from Philippy sends,
Their Zeale, and Faith he louingly commends.
He tels them if Gods Seruice they regard,
Th'eternall Crowne of life is their reward.

2. Corinths.

In this Saint Paul sends the Corinthians word,
Afflictions are the blessings of the Lord.
He doth desire their Faith may still increase,
He wishes their prosperity and peace.

Galathians.

He tels them that their whole Saluations cause,
Is all in Christ, and not in Moses Lawes.
The Law's a glasse where men their sinnes doe sec,
And that by Christ we onely saued be.

Ephesians.

Paul bids cast off the old man with his vice,
And put on Christ, our blest redempcions price.

Philippians.

He bids them of false teachers to beware,
He tels them that Humilitie is rare:
And though they liue here in a vaile of strife,
Yet for them layd vp is the Crowne of life.

Colossians.

Th'Apostle doth reioyce, and praiseth God,
That these Colossians in true Faith abode.
He praiseth them he bids them watch and pray,
That sin an Sathan worke not their decay.

1. Thessalonians.

He thanketh God, his labour's not in vaine,
So stedfast in the faith these men remaine,
That they to others are ablelled light,
By their example how to liue vpright.

2. Thessalonians.

Againe to them, he louingly doth write:
He bids them pray the Gospell prosper might.
He wishes them prosperitie and wealth,
And in the end, Soules euerlasting health.

1. and 2. to Timothy.

Paul shewes to Timothy, a By shop must,
In life and doctrine be sinc [...]re and iust.
And how the Scriptures power haue to perswade.
Whereby the man of God is perfect made.

Titus.

To Titus ('mongst the Creetans) Paul doth send.
And warnes him what [...]allow, or reprehend.

Philemon.

Paul earnestly the Master doth request,
To pardon his poore man that had transgrest.

Hebrewes.

Although this booke doth beare no Authors name,
It shewes the Iews how they thier liues should frame
And that the Ceremoniall Law is ended
In Christ, in whom all grace is comprenended.

S. Iames.

Heare, speake, and doe well, the Apostle faith,
For by thy workes, a man may see thy faith.

I. and 2. to Peter.

He counsels vs, be sober, watch and pray,
And still be ready for the Iudgement: day.

1, 2, and 3. of Iohn.

He shewes Christ di'de, and from the graue arose,
To saue his friends, and to confound his foes.

S. Iude.

Iude bids them in all Godlinesse proceed,
And of deceiuing teachers on take heed.

Reuelation.

Diuine S. Iohn to Pathmos Ile exilde,
This heauenly wor [...] t'instruct vs he compild.
He tels the godly, God shall be their gaines,
He threats she godlesse with eternall paines.
He shewes how Antichrist should reigne and rage
And how our Sauiour should his pride asswage.
How Christ in glory shall to Iudgement come,
And how all people must abide his doome.

A Prayer.

GOod God Almighty, (in compassion tender,)
Preserue and keepe King Charles, thy Faiths defender.
Thy Glory, make his Honor still increase,
In Peace, in Warres, and in Eternall peace.

Amen.

THE BOOKE OF MARTYRS.

DEDICATED TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE, WILLIAM, EARLE OF PEMBROOKE, &c.

MY Lord, my weake Collection out hath tooke,
The summe and pith of the great Martyrs Booke:
For pardon and protection I intreat,
The Volume's little, my presumption great.
IOHN TAYLOR.
I Sing their deaths (who dying made death yeeld
By Scriptures sword, and faiths vnbattered shield
Whom Sathan, men, or monsters could not tame
Nor sorde them to deny their Sauiours name.
Euangelists that did the Gospell write,
Apostles, and braue Martyrs, that did fight.
Gainst death and hell; and all the power of sin,
And boldly d [...]de eternall life to win.
Iohn Baptist by King Herod lost his head,
Who to the world repentance published.
Our blest Redeemer in his loue did follow,
And conquered death, mans sinfull soule to hallow.
He was the death of death, and he did quell
The sting and power of Sathan, sin and hell.
And vnder his great standard, valiantly,
A number, numberlesse haue darde to die.
Through bondage, famine, slauery, sword, and fire,
Through all deuised torments they aspire.
Victoriously to gaine th'immortall Crowne,
Of neuer-ending honour and renowne,
Saint Steuen was the third that lost his breath,
And (for his Masters sake) was ston'd to death,
And after him in Scripture may we reade,
The Apostle Iames was brain'd and butchered,
Saint Marke th Euangelist in fire did burne,
And Bartholmen was flead, yet would not turne,
Saint Andrew like a valliant champion dide,
And (willing) on a croste was crucifide.
Matthias, Philip, Peter, and Saint Paul,
Ston'd, crucified, beheaded, Martyrs all.
Th' Apostles of their liues no reckoning make,
And thinke them well spent for their Sauiours sale,
The tyrant Emperours, in number ten.
(Most cruell, barb'rous, and inhumaine men)
More Christians by their bloudy meanes did s [...]y,
Then for a yeere fiue thousand to each day,
And many Romane Bishops in those dayes,
Were Martyrd, to their high Creators praise,
And though each day so many thousands bleed,
Yet doubtly more and more they daily breed.
As Camomile growes better b [...]ing trod.
So death and tortures draw more vnto God,
Or as the vine thats cut and prun'd beares more.
In one yeere then it did in three before,
This bloudy persecution did out-weare,
After Christs death the first three hundred yeere,
Thus did the primitiue first Church endure,
Being Catholike, Apostolike, and pure,
Then ouer all the world twas truely knowne,
That Romish Bishops claimed but their owne,
In their owne Diocesse to be chiefe Pastor,
And not to be the worlds great Lord and master,
And now our Britaine glory will I sing
From Lucius reign, the worlds first Christian King.
Vnto these dayes of happy peacefull state,
A Catalogue of Martyrs Ile relate,
[Page 137]First, Vrsula, and eleuen thousand with her,
All Virgins, for Carists faith did dye together.
Then Hengist with the Saxons hither came,
Who many kild with sword and furious flame.
Besides eleuen hundred Monkes were kild,
At Bangor Abby all their blouds were spild.
And when the Saxons race to end was run,
The Dines came in, and all the Kingdome won.
Before whose Swords did many thousands fall.
Which on the name of IESVS CHRIST did call.
Then William Conquerour with a multitude,
Vnto the Norman [...] vo [...]ke this Land subdude.
The Pope then caus'd all Priests to leaue their wiues,
To leade soule Sodomiticke single liues.
Then afterward in second Hearies raig [...]e.
Was sawcy Sir Saint Thomas Becket slaine.
A Popish Saint and Martyr made, because
He dy'd a Traytor to his Soueraignes Lawes.
King Henry and King Richard dead and gone,
Their brother Iohn (by right) ascends the T [...]rone.
Whom all his life, the Pope of Rome did vexe,
And with oppressions all the Realme perplexe.
With Candle, Booke, and Bell, he curst and blest,
And Bals, and Legates did the King molest:
Vntill such time he on his knees fell downe,
And to the Pope surrendred vp his Crowne.
At last, because he durst the Pope withstand.
He dyed imposned by a [...]yers hand.
When thus by treason, they had kild King Iohn.
Then the third Henrie, Englands Crowne put on.
Then England bought the R [...]mesh doctrine deare,
It cost her threescore thousand markes a yeare,
For Agnus Deses, Pardons Peter pance,
For which the Pope had all this coine from hence.
King Henry dyed, then Edward tooke the sway,
His Sonne and Grandchild England did obay,
The first of them call'd Long-shanks conquests won,
Lost by Carnaruan his vnhappy Son.
Who by his Queene was in a Dung [...]on cast,
Till (being murthered) sadly breath'd his last.
Edward the third a braue victorious King,
Did Frenchmens pride into subiection bring.
Kickard the second next to raigne began,
Who lost more than his Royall Grandsire wan:
Then gan Iohn Wicklisse boldly to begin,
To preach gainst Antichrist, that man of sin.
Who many troubles stoutly did abide,
Yet (spight the Pope) he naturally dy'de.
And being dead, from out is graue was turn'd,
And had his Martyr'd bones to ashes burn'd.
Which ashes they, did cast into a Brooke,
Because he had the Romish Faith for sooke.
Yet whilst the second Richard here suruiu'd.
No Martyrs were by fire of lite depriu'd.
Henry the fourth was in the Throne inuested,
In whose Reigne many were too much molested.
And Wi [...] Sautre first his life [...] [...],
Through flames of fire, who now in heauen doth liue.
The next Iohn Ba [...]by in the fu [...] flame,
And William Tharpe, both was immortail fame.
Then the fifth Henrie a victori [...] Prince,
The Realme of France did [...] quar and [...].
The good Lord Ceb [...], then (O [...] [...])
By Popish Priests an Hereticke proc [...]aim'd,
Washang'd and burn'd by the vnit [...]tull doome,
Of Sathans Seruants, sleues to Hell and R [...]e.
And leauing some vnnam'd, Iohn 'B [...]owne [...] qu [...]re.
Iohn Beu [...]ly a Preacher dyed in [...].
B sid s a number from the Le [...]rds Towre,
Rackes, tortures, halters, and the flame deuoure.
Ioba Hu [...] a glorious Martyr of the Lord.
Was in Eohe [...] burned or Gods word.
And ren [...]rend Icrome did to Constance come
From Pragae, and stoutly suffered Martyrdome.
In Smith-sield one Iohn Claydon suffered death,
And with him Richard Turming lost his breath.
At this time sixete [...]ne godly folkes in Kent,
The Antichristian vassals d [...]d torment.
Then death cut off the fifth King Henries, Raigne,
The Crowne the sixth King Henrie did obrame.
And William Taylor, a true zealous Priest.
Did passe through fire vnto his Sauiour Christ.
Good Richard Houedon, with him William White,
Each vnto God (through fire) did yeeld his sprite.
D [...]ke Humphrey, though no Martyr, kil'd in's bed,
And Richard Wych a Priest was burned dead.
Then Saint like good King Henry was depos'd,
By the fourth Edward, in the tower inclos'd,
Then Edward fl [...]d, and Henry once againe
By Warwickes power the Kingdome did obtaine.
Thds did the various slate of humane things,
Make Kings of Capriues, and of Captiues Kings,
Vntill at last King Edward turning backe,
Brought Henries royalty to finall wracke.
In whose Raigne Iohn Go [...]se (as the story saith)
Was the first Martyr burned for Christs faith,
King Henry in the Tower was ab'd to death,
And Edward yeelded vp his hie and breath.
His Sonne young Edward of that name the sift,
Whom the third Richard from his life did lift.
VVho by foule murthers, [...]loud and tyranny,
Vsurpt the Throne of Englands Monarchy,
Till valiant Henry of that name the seuen,
Kild him, and made vncu [...]n England euen,
Then first Ioane Beugh [...]on, and a man call'd Babram [...].
By faith (through fire) went to old Father Abram.
An Old man was in Smithfield burnt because,
He did resist against the Roman Lawes.
One Ierom hang'd and burned on the Gallowes
In Florence, with two ot [...]er of his f [...]llowes.
And William Tiliesworth, Thomas Bernard, and
Iames Morton, cause they did the Pope withstand.
[Page 138]Burn'd all, and Father Rogers, and old Reine,
Did dye by fire, a better life to gaine.
One Thomas Nouice, and one Thomas Chase,
Dy'd constant Martyrs by the Heauenly Grace.
A woman and a man call'd Laurence Guest,
By Deah gain'd euerlasting life and rest.
Besides a number past mans reckoning vp,
For IESVS sake dranke of afflictions cup.
Some carried faggots through a world of mocks,
Some rack'd, some pinde, some fettered in the stocks.
Some naked stript, and scourged with a lash,
For their reiecting of their Romish trash.
Some branded in the cheeke, did alwayes beare,
The marke and badge of their Redeemer deare.
Thus the insulting tyrannizing Pope,
With cursings, tortures, fire, and sword and rope.
Did force the Soules and Consciences of men.
To run dispairing to damnations Den,
And those who valiantly his power withstood,
Did seale their resolution with their bloud.
Before his triple, treble, trouble Crowne,
(In adoration) Emperours must fall downe.
Were they as high as any Caesar borne,
To kisse his feet they must not hold it scorne,
Henry the sixth, the Emperour did fall downe,
Whom with his Feet Pope Celestine did Crowne.
Henry the fourth, his Empresse and his young Son.
All three to Rome did barefoot goe and run.
And three dayes so, these three did all attend,
His holinesse a godlesse eare to lend.
Which afterward was granted, on condition
That he should giue his Crowne vp in submission.
Pandulphus the Popes Legate with a frowne,
Did make King Iohn of England yeeld his Crowne:
King Henry of that as me the second, he
Kneel'd downe, and kist the Romish Legats knee:
The Emperour when Pope Adrian was to ride,
Did hold his stirrop on the neere wrong side:
For which his Holinesse in angry sort,
Disdainfully did checke the Emperour for't,
When as the Pope doth ride in Cope of gold,
Kings (like to foot-men) must his bridle hold.
In pompe he must bee borne vpon mens shoulders,
With glorious shew, amazing the beholders.
Whilst Kings and Princes must before him goe,
To vsher him in this vaine-glorious show.
This being true as no man can deny,
Those that will not be blinde may plainely spy,
That their insulting proud commanding Priest,
Is [...]bsolute, and onely Antichrist.
H'exalts himselfe 'boue all thats called God.
Vpon the Emperours necke he proudly trod.
Hee is th'abomination (void of grace)
That mounts himselfe into the holy place,
He makes the Princes of the Earth drinke vp,
And quaffe the poyson of his cursed Cup.
Who being drunken with the dr [...]gs of sinne,
They haue his sworne and forsworne vassals beene,
Bewitched with his foule Inchanting charmes,
Gainst one another they haue rose in armes.
By forreine and domesticke bloudie broyles,
Whilst he hath fild his his coffers with their spoyles.
His double dealing too plaine appeares.
In setting Christian Princes by the eares.
Whilst he into his anatitious hands,
Hath feiz'd their persons, moueables and lands.
And as the Christian Kings themselues made weake,
The Turke into their Kingdomes gan to breake.
And thus the Turke and Pope joynd with the deuill,
Haue beene the authors of all Christian euill.
FINIS.

THE BOOKE OF MARTYRS. The Second Part.

DEDICATED TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE, PHILLIP, EARLE OF MONTGOMERIE, &c.

MY Lord, the liues and deaths of Saints and Kings,
This little Booke vnto your Greatnesse sings:
Protection and acceptance if you giue,
It shall (as shall Your selfe) for ever liue.
IOHN TAYLOR.
VVHen the 7 Henry in his graue was laid,
And the eight Henry, Englands Scepter sway'd,
Romes bloudy persecution raged more
In England, than in ten Kings raignes before.
And therefore Reader, in this little Booke.
For euery Martyrs name thou must not looke.
But men of chiefest note, respect and same,
That dyed in England, onely these I name.
And first the Papists tyranny beganne,
In murthering Richard Hun, a zealous man,
For being kept in prison by their power,
They closly hang'd him in the Lollards Tower.
And then they all in generall decreed,
Reporting Hun himselfe had done the deed.
Ann sixteene dayes iust after this was don,
They burn'd the foresaid corps of Richard Hun.
Then to the number of full thirty fiue,
The surious flames did all of life depriue.
In seuerall places of this wofull land,
Because they did the Pope of Rome withstand.
At which time Thomas Bilney did begin,
To preach and teach against Antichristian sinne.
Where in Saint Georges Church in Ipswich Towne,
The Papists from the Pulpit pluckt him downe.
And as in dolefull prison he did lie,
He put his finger in the flames to try,
He prou'd, aud God did giue him strenght to beare
His death, to liue with his Redeemer deare.
The next of note, was one Iohn Frith, a man
Of learning great, a Martyrs same he wan.
Then learned Luther, and graue Zwinglius,
With Caluin, Beza, Occolampadius,
All glorious, gracious, reuerend lamps of light,
Were instruments to cleare blear'd Englands sight.
In Flanders, William Tindall for Gods Word,
Was Sacrific'd to glorifie the Lord.
Iohn Lambert valiantly his death did take,
And burn'd in Smithfield for his Sauiour sake.
About this time that Honourable man,
Lord Cromwels life, and timelesse death began.
Hee like an Earthquake made the Abbies fall,
The Fryeries, the Nunneries, and all.
This famous Noble, worthy Essex Earle,
This Iemme, this Iewell, this most orient pearle,
Was for his truth from all he had discarded,
And with his heads losse all his faith rewarded.
The next of worthy note by fire that dide,
Was good Anne Askew, who did strong abide,
Rackes, tortures, and the cruell raging flame,
To magnifie her high Creators name.
Then gan the Kings eyes to be opended quite,
Inlightened by the euerlasting light.
He banisht Superstitious idle sables,
And packt the Papists hence with all their bables.
Then Bonner, Gardner, Brethren both in euill,
Factors and Actors, bloudhounds for the Deuill.
[Page 140]Their burning fame to infamy soone saded,
They Godlesse, gracelesse, were disgracst, degraded.
The King thus hauing this good worke begun,
He dyed, and left the Kingdome to his Sonne.
Then raign'd young Edward that sweet Princely childe,
By whom all Popery was cleane exilde.
But he too good to liue mongst wicked men,
Th' Almighty tooke him hence to Heauen agen.
No sooner Edward was laid in his Tombe,
But England was the slaughter-house of Rome.
Gardner and Bonner were from prison turn'd,
And whom they pleas'd were eyther sau'd or burn'd.
Queene Mary imitating Iezabell,
Aduanc'd againe the Ministers of Hell,
Then tyranny began to tyrannize,
Tortures and torments then they did deuise.
Then Master Rogers with a saith most feruent,
Was burn'd, and dy'd in Smith field Gods true Ser­uant.
Next vnto him did Laurence Sanders dye,
By fire (for Iesus sake at Couentry.
He did embrace and kindly kisse the stake,
To gaine Heau'ns glory, did the world for sake.
Good Byshop Hooper, was at Gloster burn'd,
Cause he against the Romish Doctrine spurn'd,
And Doctor Taylor, a true zealous man,
At Hadly burn'd, eternall glory wan,
Then Byshop Ferrar next his life did spend,
In fire to gaine the life shall neuer end.
Next William Fowler first did loose his hand,
Then burn'd, because the Pope he did withstand,
In Essex Thomas Hawkes with faith victorious,
Did dye by fire, to gaine a life most glorious,
Master Ioha Bradford (for his Sauiours sake,
In Smithsield burn'd a godly end did make.
Two reuerend Byshops, Father Latimer.
And Ridley each of them a heauenly starre,
Liu'd in Gods foare, and in his fauour dy'd,
At Oxford burn'd, and now are glorisi'd,
Ioh [...] Philp [...]t gladly did the fire embrace.
And died and liues in his Redeemers grace.
Then that graue Father and religious man.
Arch-Bishop of Cranmars troubles hot began.
His Pompe, his state, his glory, and his pride,
Was to know Iesus, and him crucifide:
He liu'd a godly Preacher of Gods Word.
And dy'd a glorious Martyr of the Lord.
Iohn Carcles in close Prison carefully,
Did change his cares for ioyes eternally.
But this small volum: cannot well containe
One quarter of the Saints in England flaine,
In Henries Raigne and Maries (cruell Queene)
Eight thousand people there hath slaughtered beene,
Some by the Sword, some Hang'd, some burnt in fire,
Some staru'd to death in Prison, all expire.
Twelue thousand and seuen hundred more beside,
Much perse [...]uting trouble did abide.
Some wrackt, som whipt, som tortur'd som in stocks,
Some doing penance, with a world of mockes,
Some with an yron in the faces burn'd,
Some out of all their goods to beggry rurn'd.
Some barefoot, bearing faggots on their shoulders,
We [...]e made a wondring stocke to the beholders.
All this, and more, much more they did endure,
Because they would not yeeld to liue impure.
But now to speake the law lesse [...]ause wherefore,
And why these people troubled were so sore,
Because they would not make their plaints & mones,
To senseles I mages, dead stockes and slones.
Because they said the Sacramentall bread,
Is not the Lord, which shall iudge quick and dead.
Because they not beleeu'd a Purgatory,
And held the Popes decrees an idle story.
Because they would not creepe vnto the crosse,
And change Gods sacred Word for humane drosse.
Because they held the Masse an Idoll soule,
At once, which pickt the purse, & damn'd the Soule.
Because they knew the Pope, and all his crue,
H [...] hounds, whō heauern (in rage) on earth did spue.
And in a word, they thus were ouer-trod,
Because they truly seru'd the liuing God,
This was the maine, and onely cause of all,
Because they would not offer vnto B [...]el.
The Popes outragious and couragious actor,
Was Bishop Bonner, hells most trusty factor.
Romes hangman, and the firebrand of this Realme,
That with a sloud of bloud did ouerwhelme,
The true beleeuers of Gods holy truth,
He burchered, not regarding age or youth.
With him was ioyn'd a man almost as ill.
Who tooke delight Gods seruants bleud to spill,
Cal'd Stephen Gardner, Englands Chanceller,
And Bishop of the Sea of Winchester,
These two did striue each other to excell,
Who should doe greatest seruice vnto Hell,
Vntill at last God heard his seruants cry,
And each of them did die immediately,
Thus when I [...]honah heard the iust complaints,
Of his beloued poore afflicted Saints,
Then this too cruell Pope defending Queene,
(The bloudiest Princesse that this land hath seene)
She did decease, and persecution ceast;
And tired, wofull [...] Englands purchast rest,
Queene Mary, being dead her welcome death.
Reuin'd our ioyes in blest ELIZABETH,
Innumerable were her woes and cares,
Abundance were the subtill wiles and snares.
Which Sathan and his Ministers oft laid,
To reaue the life of that most harmelesse Maid;
She was accus'd, abus'd, reuil'd, miscal'd,
She was from prison vnto prison hal'd.
Long in the Tower she shas close prisner shut.
Her louing seruants all way were put.
[Page 141]From thence to Windsor; thence to Woodstocke sent,
Closely mewd vp from all the worlds content.
But God whose mercies euer did defend her,
Did in her greatest Sorrow comfort send her.
He did behold her from his Throne on hie,
And kept her as the apple of his eye.
Let Hell and Hell-hounds still attempt to spill,
Yet the Almighty guards his Seruants still,
And he at lest did ease her Sorrowes mone,
And rais'd her to her lawfall awfull throne.
This Royall Deborah, this Princely Dame,
Whose life made all the world admire her fame.
As Iudith in Bet h [...]lias same was spread,
For cutting off great Holophernès head:
So our Eliza stoutly did begin.
Vntopping and beheading Romish sin,
Shee purg'd the Land of Papistry [...]agen,
Shee liu'd belou'd of God, admir'd of men.
Shee made the Antichristian Kingdome quake,
She made the mighty power of Spaine to shake.
As farre as Sunne and Moone dispears'd her Rayes,
So farre and farther, went her matchlesse praise,
She was at home, abroad, in euery part,
Loadstar and Loadstone to each eye and heart.
Supported onely by Gods powerfull hand,
She foure and forty yeares did rule this Land:
And then she lest her Royall Princely Seat,
She chang'd earths greatnesse to be heauenly great.
Thus did this Westerne Worlds great wouder dye,
She fell from height to be aduanc'd more hie.
Terrestriall Kings and Kingdomes, all must fade,
Then blest is she, that is immortall made.
Her death fild woefull England full of feares,
The Papists long'd for change with itching eares,
For her decease was all their onely hope,
To raise againe the doctrine of the Pope.
But he whose power is all omnipotent,
Di [...] their vnhappy hopelesse hopes preuent.
Succession lawfully did leaue the Crowne,
Vnto a Prince, whose vertue and Renowne,
And learning did out-stripall Kings as sarre,
As doth the Sunne obseure a little starre.
What man that is but man, could bass [...] more
Romes seauen [...]headed purple beastly Whore?
How wisely hath he Bellarmine con [...]uted,
And how diuinely hath'he ost dispated?
How zealously he did Cods faith desend,
How often on Gods word he did attend.
How clement, pious, and how gracious good
Was he, as fits the greatnesse of his bloud.
Were't not for him how should the Mu [...]s doe?
He was their patterne, and their patron too,
He was th' Apollo from whose radient Beames,
The quinteffence of Poetry our-streames,
And from the splendor of his piercing rayes,
A world of worthy writers won the bayes,
Yet all the worthy vertues so transparent,
And so well knowne to be in him inharent,
Could not perswade the Papists leaue their strife,
With cursed treasons to attempt his life,
For when their disputations helpt them not.
They would dispute in a damn'd powder plot.
In which the Romists went beyond the deuill,
For Hell could not inuent a plot so euill.
But he that plac'd him on his royall Throne,
The God of Iacob, Iudahs holy one)
That God (for Iesus sake) I doe beseech,
(With humble heart and with vnfained speech)
That he or his may Britaines Scepter sway,
Till time, the world, and all things passe away.
But now he's gone into Eternall bliss̄e, Crowne [...]
And with Eternall glory crowned is
Long may King CHARLES weare Britaines royall
And heauens best blessings raise his high Renowne.
FINIS.

GODS MANIFOLD MERCIES IN THESE MIRACVLOVS DELI­verances of our Church of England, from the yeare 1565. vntill this present, 1630. particularly and briefly Described.

IOSHVA 4.21, 22. 24.

When your Children shall aske their Fathers in time to come, What meaneth this Pillar: Then yee shall let your Children know, saying;

THESE ARE THE DELIVERIES WHICH GOD HATH VOVCHSAFED TO HIS CHVRCH IN ENGLAND SINCE THE BEGINNING OF QVEENE ELIZABETHS RAIGNE TO THIS DAY:

That all the People of the Earth might know the hand of the Lord that it is mightie, that yee might feare the Lord your God for euer.

THere was a Bull in Rome was long a breeding,
Which Bull prou'd little better then a Calfe:
Was sent to England for some better feeding.
To fatten in his Holinesse behalfe.
The vertues that this Beast of Babell had,
In thundring manner was to banne and curse:
Raile at the Queene, as it were raging mad;
Yet God be thanked she was ne're the worse.
The goodly Sire of it was Impious
Pius the fufh of that name, Pope of Rome.
piu [...].
Hee taught it learnedly to curse and banne:
And to our faces boldly to defie vs.
It madly ouer England quickly ranne:
But what succe [...]e it had reade more and see,
The fruits of it herevnder written be.

This Bull did excommunicate and curse the Queene, [...]dep [...]eth her from her Crowne, it proclaimed her an Here [...], it cursed all such as loued her, it threatned damnation to all subiects as dur [...]t obey her, and it pro­mised the kingdome of heauen to those that would op­pose and kill her.

This was the effect and nature of this Popish Beast, which all wise, godly, and vnder standing men did de­ride and contemne.

1.
A Priest call'd Moort [...]n, by the Pope assign'd,
Northumberland and Westmerland seduceth:
With whom the Duke of
Duke of Norfolke, and Earle of Northumberland beheaded, Earle of Westmorland fled.
Norfolke is combin'd:
The whilst the Pope nocost or charge refuseth,
But pawnes his challices, his Beads, and Crosses,
Giues them his gracelesse blessing for their ayde:
The fruit where of were heads and honors losses.
God still defending Englands Royall Maid.
[Page 143]Thus we (by proofe) must thankefully confesse,
That where the pope doth curse, there God doth blesse. year 1569
2.
Dou Iohn
He was Brother to the King of Spaine, and failing of the hope be had to be Crowned King of Tums be practi­seth to inuade England, Wherof sailing, he dyes for griefe.
of Austri [...], whom the pope incites
Our Queene and kingdome both to Cap [...]uate
And whilst he warre prepares with sub [...]ll slights,
A fained peace he doth cap [...]ulate.
Nay more, he doth perpetuall peace proclaime,
Thereby to make vs sleepe the more secure,
But Gods great Mercy made him misse his aime,
And what he thought most certaine, proud vnsure
This plot of our inuasion thus orethrowne,
Don Iohns ambition with his life did end.
Whereby th' Almighty to the world makes known,
That he his Church will euermore defend.
His vine she is, his power doth guard her round,
And all her Enemies he will confound. year 1578
3.
Romes malice and Spaines practice still concurs,
To vexe and trouble blest Elizabeth:
With S [...]nk [...]l [...]y they combine to raise new stirs.
And Ireland bragging sinkely promiseth
To giue vnto the popes braue Bastard Sonne
Iames 'Boncatn [...]ag [...], an ambitious boy.
And St [...]ely from the pope a prize hath Wonne,
A holy Peacocks Iaile (a proper toy)
But St [...]ely was in Maurstania slaine,
In that great batt [...]ll at Alcazor fought.
Whereby we see his power doth still defend
H [...] Church, which on his mercy doth depend. year 1578

Pope Gregory and the king of Spaine, Conspire to [...] Rebell [...] in Ireland by meanes of Thomas Stuke­ [...]an English [...] can, who was slainem the field with three Kings with [...].

4.
An English Priest call'd Nicholas Saunders next,
A consecrated Banner gets from Rome,
And like a trayterons wretch mistakes his text,
Rebelliously doth into Ireland come,
He with the Desmons ioynes in bloudy manner,
And when
Iohn Desmond was brother to the Earle of Desmond
Iohn Desmond murther did commit,
Then by the vertue of his bable banner,
Applauded it, and did the crime remit.
This good successe Romes f [...] p [...]r [...] had,
The Earle was by a common [...] [...],
And
Saunders r [...]n mad in the wild Mountains, Woods, and bogs of Ireland, and dyed by [...].
Saunders pind [...], [...] [...].
His conscience with [...]
Thus treason is accordingl [...] rewa [...],
And still the Church of Godby [...] is guarded. year 1579
5.
P [...]rsons and Campion, a most wicked brace.
Of English T [...]a [...]ors Ro [...]h [...]e [...]uites,
Get from the Pope the fauour and the grace
To play in England the [...]ear [...]ites
Fr [...]e leaue they from his Holinesse obtaine
To draw true subiects from their loyalty,
To make our Kingdome va [...]all vnto Spaine,
And to depo [...] the Queene from Royalty.
At last (despight the blessing of the pope)
Their plots were kno [...] ne, and qvickely Parsons [...]i [...]d,
But Campion dy'd at Tyburne in a Rope,
Hang'd all (as' tis supposed) but the head.
God still the practice and the p'ots orethrowes,
O [...] his most deare beloued churches foes. year 1581

These [...]esuites walked in disguise h [...]ve long before they were taken, sometimes like swagge [...]g Ruffians, some­times like Ministers, sometimes like Noblemen, sometimes like souldiers, and sometimes like Apara­tors.

6.
Here So [...]erui [...] an English Gentleman
Seduc'd by Romesh Priests the Queene to kill,
Attempts it in the despurat' [...] sort he can.
And with a drawne Sword runs her bloud to spill:
But by the way, with one or two he met.
Who did oppose him and his damn'd intent:
Whilst like a mad man he gan rage and f [...]et,
At those that did the mischiefe then preuent.
But [...]ane he was, and clos [...] in prison pent,
There to remaine till Iustice him should trye,
And then to haue de [...]erued punishment.
That others might example take thereby.
But Sommer [...] was strangled in the layle.
Thus God to guard his Church doth neuer faile. year 1583

It was thought that Sommeruill was strangled by some that set him on works, for fear [...] least his con [...]ession. might haue preferred them to the Ga [...]owes.

7.
Mendoza here, Ambassador for Spaine,
Foule trea [...]on with Throckmorton practiseth.
[Page 144]To moue sedition, raise a warlike trains,
Inuade the Realme, depose Elizabeth.
Mendoza is discoutred, and disgrac'd,
And out of England in disgrace was thrust,
Whilst in each hand he hath a Letter plac'd.
Which he had got from Traitors most vniust.
In one of them was written all the Names
Of English Lords, that did the Pope affect.
In th' other all the Hauens and the streames,
For shipping, and our foes how to direct,
But God his Church, our Queene and Realme de­sended
Thr [...]gmorton hang'd and quarter'd, all was ended. year 1584

In these dangerous times, the Queenes mercit was ve­ry great towards the Priests and Ies [...]es, for shee com­manded that the seueritie of the Law might bee mitti­ga [...]ed towards them.

8.
The Remish Vipers neuer taking rest
Most dangerous Letters trait ero [...]sly were writ:
That foraigne Princes England might mole [...]t,
The b [...]arer was a
His name was Creighton, being taken at Sea, he cast his Letters, torne in pieces, into the Sea, for feare of being discouered, but the Winde blow them into the Ship againe.
Scottish [...]os [...]ite,
Who by Dutch Pyrates on the Sea was tane:
His Letters torn [...], hee ouer boord did fling.
But the Winde blowing from the raging Maine,
The Papers backe into the Ship did bring,
Which though they were in many peeces rent,
Were plac'd together by Sir William Wade,
Who found, the Guise, the Pope, and Spaines intent
Were strong combined England to inuade.
These proiects thus were blasted in their bud.
And their pretence of Harme God made our Good. year 1585
9.
Here William Parry hath got leaue from Rome,
To broach new mischiefes on our English shore,
And he to kill Elizabeth doth come,
Though shee his life had pardon'd long before.
His Absolution from the Pope doth show
That ere the murders done it is forgiuen:
Nay more, his Holinesse doth free bestow.
Vpon the [...]sitor endlesse loyes of Heauen.
False Parry with his Dagger purposely
Went to the Queen [...] in dutious sort dissembling,
When with her lookes of awfull Maiestie,
She strucke the villaine full of feare and trembling.
Then was he tooke and hang'd as he desern'd,
And onely God our Church and State preseru'd, year 1586

Parry was a Doctor of the Ciuil Law, whom the Queene had pardoned sixe yeares before, for killing of one Huge Hare, yet afterward by the diuels in [...]ligation, and the Popes abselntion and encouragement, he fe [...] in­to this treason, Exceuted at Westminster.

10.
Here Ballard, Sauage, Ti [...]burne. Babington,
Gage, Trauerse, Tilney, Windsor, Charneck, D [...].
Iones, Barnewell, Salisbury and Abington,
These fourteene into dangerous treasons run:
They would but kill the Queene, subuert the State,
Make England beare the yoake of Antichrist:
And for thofe ends they worke both soone and late,
Whilst Ignorance to Erro [...]r is entis'd,
They in Saint Giles his fields their proiects layd,
There was the consultations of their braines:
And in those fields they had their wages paid,
Handsomly hang'd and quarter'd for their paines.
Thus God doth still our Church defend and blesse,
And those that are her foes haue ill successe. year 1586

This yeare Rowland Yorke and Sir William Stan­ley turned Tray [...]rs. September 13.

11.
An English Gentleman
This Stafford was a Gentleman well descended, his Mother was of the Bed chamber to the Queene, and his Brother Leiger Ambassador in France at the same time.
William Stafford nam'd,
Was by the French Ambassador perswaded,
That if hee'd kill the Queene he should be fam'd,
For by her death might England be inuaded.
Besides, for it the Pope would thankfull be,
And all the house of Guise, should be his friends.
But Stafford to their plots feemet' agree,
Yet told the councell on his knees their ends.
These things vnto th' Ambassador were told,
(And Stafford did auouch them to his face:)
Which he deny'd audaciously and bold,
Much ill besee [...]ing his estate and place.
Thus what fo [...]euer gain [...]t our Church was wrought,
God still did bring their purposes to nought, year 1587
12.
This yeare Spaine with a mighty preparation
With tweluescore Vessels loadeth Neptunes backe,
With thirty thousand men attempts inuafion,
Of England [...] Kingdome, and Eliz [...]s wracke.
Then many a bragging desperate doughty Don,
Proud of the strength of that great huge
The Spanish flee [...] were in all of Ships, Gall [...]ons, Gal­lies and Pinaces, 242. of Souldiers, Mariners, and Galley. [...] 31030. of great Ordnance 2630. Our Fleet were in all but 112. the Campe as Ti [...]bury were 22000, foot, and 12000. horse.
Armad [...],
Went barely off, though they came brauely on,
The power of Heauen opposing their branado.
Our numbers vnto theirs inferiour [...]arre,
Yet were they tane, sunke, slaine, bang'd thump'd, & batter'd,
[Page 145]Because the Lord of Hosts the God of Warre,
He was our trust and ayde, our [...]oes he scater'd.
His name is oner all the world most glorious,
And through his power his Church is still victori­ous. year 1588
13.
Lopez a Doctor, by descent a [...]ew,
A Port [...]ga [...] by birth, the Queenes physiti [...]n:
Forgetting duty,(to his Soueraigne due)
Would poyson her to further Spaines ambition.
The Spaniards and the Doctor are compacting,
How this sweet piece of seruice might be done,
They promise gold, and he doth vow the acting.
A bargaine wisely made is partly wonne.)
But this base Iew is taken in the trap,
The Queene pre [...]er [...]'d the Spaniards cake is dough,
The Doctor wrong'd his breeches by mishap,
And hanging his reward was good enough,
Still treasons working, though its lucke be ill,
Gods gracious power, his Church defending still. year 1589

The Queene had beene gracious and beautifull to this same Lopez many wayes, and hee was accounted a man of good integrity till hee was corrupted by the Pope and Spaniard.

At his Araignment feare made him wrong his [...]ches: he was hanged at Ty [...]rns.

14.
Tyrone supported by the Pope and Spaine,
Had put our English Kingdome to much cost,
Perceiuing all his treasons were in vaine,
His dangers desperate, fruitlesse labour lost:
Although his Holinesse from Rome had sent,
A plume of Phoenix feathers for a blessing,
Which bable from Tyrone could not preuent
Rewards of Iustcie for his long transgressing.
To the Lord Deputy be doth su [...]mit,
Craues the kings mercy, and obtained the same:
Yet afterward he did his faith forget,
And new rebeilions did in Ireland frame.
At last with guilty minde, away he flyes,
Thus God confounds his Churches enemies. year 1587

Tyrone an Irish Earle, a man of great power and Policie, a most peruitions and dangerous trayter, 1604. bee came into England, and was most graciously pardoned by the King, yet afterward would haue le [...] all Ireland rebellion, but fa [...]ling of his purpose, fled to Rome.

15.
Mongst all these dangers Queene Elizabeth,
Preserued still, and reigned [...]oyally:
Defended all her life from violent death,
And seauenty yeares of age dy'd naturally:
To her succeeded (as his prop [...]r right)
King Iames Great Britaines blessed Salomon:
When straight began new tricks of Romish spight,
For Church and King, and La [...]ds subuersion.
Watson They would haue altered Religion, brought in Forraigne power, imprisoned the King, and raised Ar­bella Watson, Clarke, Master George Brooke, executed. & Clarke, two Priests, two Popish brothers,
Seduc'd Lords, Cobham; Gray, two Noblemen,
Sir Walter Rawleigh, Markham, Brooke, and others,
To take the King, and him in p [...]fon pen.
The plot's found, Iustice would th' [...] ndors kill,
But the Kings mercy sau'd, what L.w might [...]pill. year 1603

The Kings mercy saued the Lord Cobham. Lord Gray Sir Walter Rawleigh, Sir Griffith Marke­ham at the Blocke, as the stroake was readis to bee giuen.

16.
Now treason plotted in th' infernall Den,
H [...]ls mischiefe master peece began to worke,
Assisted by vnnaturall English [...],
And les [...]ites, that within this Land did lurke,
These would Saint Peter-to Salt. pe [...]er turne,
And make our Kingdome caper in the ayre,
At one blast, Prince and Peeres and commons burn;
And fill the Land with murder and dispaire,
No treasonere might be compar'd to this,
Such an escape the Church had nere before:
The glory's Gods, the victory is his,
Not vnto vs, to him be praise therefore.
Our Church is his, her foes may vnderstand,
That he defends her with his mighty hand. year 1605

Percy and Catesby would needs be heads of this trea­son and their heads are aduanced for it on the Parlia­ment house: they were killed with powder, being both shot and burnt; and powder was the main [...] Instrument of their hopes; All the Trayt [...]rs falling into the 'Pit which they had prepared for vs.

Not any of all these treasons, but eyther the Pop [...] the Spanish King, Priests or Iesuites, had a hand in it.

17.
The dangers of a long and tedious way,
The perils of the raging Sea and Land,
The change of ayre and dyet many a day,
And Romes temptations which thou did withstand,
[Page 146]And after all thy safe returne againe,
(Amongst those blessings make vp much more blest).
In mind, and body [...] from Rome and Spaine,
For which our [...] to heauen is [...] [...] prest,
Long mayst [...] Gracious instrument,
To propaga [...]e his Gospell and his glory:
All Antichistian foes to [...],
And with thy a [...]s to fill a royall story.
That [...] truly may [...]
These Deeds were done by Britaines CHALES the Great year 1623

Great [...] the interprize and hazard of our gracieus Pride [...] but great [...] was Gods, i [...]guiding and guarding him backe againe to all Ioy and Comforts.

18
And last of all, with Heart and [...]nds erected,
Thy Church doth magnifie thy name O [...]L [...]
Thy prouid [...]ce p [...] thy power protected.
Thy planted [...] according to thy Word.
My God what shall I rende [...] [...],
For all thy guise [...] do [...] [...] [...]?
Loue and vnfained Thanke [...] shall be,
Ascribed for thy Mercies, [...]yes.
To thee my Priest, my Prophet and my King.
My Loue my Counsellor, and Comforter,
To thee alone, I onely praised sing;
For onely thou art my [...] Deliuerer;
All Honour, Glory, Power, and Praise therefore,
Ascribed be to thee for euermore.

The Churches Thankesgiuing to God for all his Mer­cies and her Deliuerances. The Church of Christ doth acknowledge no other In­tercessor, Desenrer; Maintinrer and Deliuerer, but onely Christ himselfe.

FINIS.

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