Bull, Beare, and Hor …

Bull, Beare, and Horse, Cut, Curtaile, and Longtaile.

VVith Tales, and Tales of Buls, Clenches, and Flashes.

Is also here and there a touch of our Beare-Garden-sport; with the second part of the Merry conceits of Wit and Mirth.

Together with the Names of all the Bulls and Beares.

LONDON, Printed by M. Parsons, for Henry Gosson, and are to be sold at his shop on London Bridge. 1638.

This Dedication is directed, to his well-Affected and much Respe­cted, his often Approved, and truly beloved, Mr. Thomas Godfrey, Kee­per of the Game for Beares, Bulls, and Dogges.

KInd friend, I am sure you can defend me from being bitten with your Beares, though not from being back-bitten by Envie; you can stave me, and save me, from the Goring of your Bulls, but there are too many heards of other Horned Beasts to But at my Inventions, and tosse my harm­lesse [Page] meaning, as their empty Iudge­ments, and Witlesse fancies are en­clin'd; howsoever I am resolv'd to love you, and not to Respect them I am glad that you can say that an ex­cessive time of charge is past with you, and I hope for better dayes and times. I have touched here and there merrily upon the Game, but so farre from offence, that I doe expect that it will be pleasing both to the Wise, and to the Indifferent Readers. And mee thinkes very fools should not be an­gry with it, for I have thrust in a great many Bables to please them to If any thing doe seeme distastefull in it, my Comfort is, that a Wise man will not set his Wit to mine, and be offended but if a Foole be angry, then I will [Page] not set my Wit to his, and take excep­tions. And thus with my best wishes to you and yours, I remaine a poore friend to you and yours,

Iohn Taylor.

Bull, Beare, and Horse, Cuts, Curtols, and Longtailes.

COncerning Buls, sure no man is so Dull,
Orignorant but that he knowes a Bull:
There are more sorts of Bulls then Beares by ods,
For lupiter, (the chiefe of Heathen gods)
Into a Bull, was pleas'd himselfe to Shape,
When on Europa he committed Rape:
And to a Bull, he turn'd his forme divine
When he (on Ceres) got faire Proserpine.
Taurus (the Bull) is if you wisely Note
A Signe Caelestiall for the Necke and Throat,
If any doubt of it, let them but go
And buy an Almanacke, hee'le finde it so.
Pasipha Queene of Creet, (a Royall Trull)
Was monstrously enamour'd of a Bull:
'Twixt whom the Monster Minotaure was got,
As in th eighth Booke of Ovid it was wrot.
But sure the stories truth is better fram'd,
That sayes there was a man there ( Taurus nam'd)
Who was beloved of the lustfull Queene,
And had with her too oft familiar beene.
'Tis said Semir amis (King Ninus Mother)
Did love a Bull, which is as true as 'tother,
When as Just Minos, ( Creets victorious King)
The Megarans did to's subjection bring,
For which to Iove a feast he solemniz'd,
Wherein a hundred Buls were sacrific'd.
The Brazen Bull of Ph [...]llaris the Tyrant,
Was such a Beast, as made the World admire on't,
In which men Roasted, were to death Tormented,
And he first suffred in't that it Invented.
There dwels a man at Rome, that Buls can make,
To make seduced Kings, and Kingdomes Quake,
Which Buls (though Lead) (O wondrous to behold
Are quickly Metamorphos'd into Gold.
There's the Philosophers Admired Jemme,
(That long sought Jewell, worth a Diademe)
That hard, hard stone, which many men have sought
And all they found, they found themselves worth nought;
The Castle Angello, doth it Immure
And there turnes drossy Lead, to Gold most pure.
There are Bulbeggers, which fright Children much,
There are Bull Taverns, that mens Wits will tutch;
And further (for the Buls Renowne and fame)
We had an ex'lent Hangman of that name.
Suppose a man's match'd with a beauteous Wife,
Who with an ugly Dwarfe defiles her life,
To please her husband, she can fiddle, faddle,
Whilst oftentimes a Monkey fits his Saddle,
A man may say, that he most basely is
Bull'd with an Vrchin, through his Wifes Amisse.
And now of late a Bull's a Common Creature,
For men (with nonsence) do speak Bull's by Nature,
From East to West, from North unto the South,
Bull's are produc'd each houre, by Word of Mouth.
Which every day are brought unto the Printer,
Faster then Mother Puddings made her Winter.
To the decay of many a Tallow Taper,
And the consuming many a Reame of Paper,
Soft Mault doth make sweet Fire, the Proverb sayes,
Or else the Bull sayes so, you see which wayes.
If men would use to Leape before they Looke,
Bulls should not thus be thrust in many a Booke,
For though Care may be Kill'd with any Cat,
You are not sure the Fire is in the Fat,
Fooles faine (say they) do often make faire Words,
Yet some may Catch the Bush some beat the Birds.
But Better comes the seldome, I desire
For My Kill set the Peck of Mault on fire.
This any man may to him selfe apply
That When the Larks fall, we may catch the skie.
But if my Judgement do me not deceive
I do esteeme it better lacke then leave.
Though Brawne and Bacon breeds from Bores and Hoggs,
Yet hungry Puddings Will eat dirty Doggs.
And sure a man had better bide away,
Then come to late, A Faire after the Day.
If such a one speed well, it is as rare,
As tis To catch a Taber with a Hare.
Which is as certaine as blind Fortunes Wheele,
Or hold fast Like a wet Taile by the Eele.
Let every man a true decorum keepe,
Because tis ill, A waking Dogge to sleepe.
And tis a Proverb throughout Christendome,
That never One day was not built in Rome.
If great men give me nothing, I say plaine,
Ile hurle as much as that at them againe.
He that stickes downe a Goose, and steales a Feather,
Doth (by that match) not save, or profit neither.
Along Corne for short harvest men may see,
Like tedious woeing for a scornefull shee.
Tis folly for a man to fall at strife
With Women, who hath nine Cats like a life;
For when the Gray-Horse is the better Mare,
A Blinde man may be taken with a Hare.
Spet in your hold, take better hands I say,
We may be heere to Morrow, and gone to day.
The man that angrie is without amends,
Tis fit ( without a canse he be made friends:)
For though men know their Cattel by their marks
The greatest men are not the wisest Clarkes.
I purpose no mans credit to defame,
But He that is balfe hang'd, bath no good name.
Though all these Rimes are scarcely worth a Token
The Water to the Pott goes till tis broken.
Who cuts their fingers must abide them bleed.
And when Geese preach, then let thr Fox take heede.
Tis hard to make me thinke, or late, or soone,
That ever Greene Cheese was made of the Moone.
Nor is it fit (as I doe understand)
To put a mad Sword in a nak'd mans hand.
A man may be a Drunkard or a Leacher,
And yet mend as the Bolt doth mend the Fletcher.
Or as the sowre Ale mends the Sommer, so
A man (mistooke) may make his friend, his foe.
For all this, 'tis not fitting to be book'd,
How once olde Lincolne ore the Devill look'd.
The Ancient Proverb still doth stand in force,
Some better may looke one then steale a Horse.
It may be some will not these lines allow,
But then they take a wrong Eare by the Sow.
T was never yet a question in the Law,
To stumble at a Blocke, leape ore a straw.
But any man of simple wit may finde,
That all this Corne hath shaken downe no Winde.
He that will wrangle for an Egge thats Addle,
Although he lose the Horse, may winne the Saddle.
And thus my Muse, most lowly elevated,
These English Proverbs hath to Bulls tranflated.

More worthy, and Remarkeable obser­vations of the Bull.

AS is before Repeated in my lines,
Taurus (the Bull)' mongst the Celestial Signes;
So Taurus is a Mountaine, whose high Top
Doth seeme to scale the Skies, and underprop
The Bull that's stellified; That Hill doth Bound
All Asia on the North, about it round
Is many a Kingdome and large Continent,
Which shewes the Bull is mighty in extent.
A Bull's a Beast of State and Reputation,
For he that eats Bull Beefe, (by approbation)
With eating such strong meate, I do assure ye
'T will puffe him up, and make him swell with fury.
If any man will but himselfe examine,
Heele find a Bull, a Buckler against famine,
A Bull's a happy Creature, whence proceeds
Most of the food, whereon most people feeds:
He, and his sweet hearts (most beloved Kine)
Yeelds thousands where with all to suppe and dine.
The Calves, (his sonnes and daughters) plenteously
With young and tender Veale, our wants supply.
And from the Bull'd Cow, (in perpetuall motion)
Milke flowes amongst us daily like a Ocean,
Sweet Creame, and Cockney Curds they yeeld each day,
And (for the poor) Whig, Buttermilk and Whay,
Cheese Raw, or Toasted, or to Bait Mouse-traps,
And Butter, to annoint the Flemmings Chaps,
The Milk-Pans do allow, like bounteous Pooles,
Meanes to make Cheese-cakes, Custards, Flawns, and Fools,
And at the Milk-pale, I have seene and heard
Good Sullabubs, have been both made and mard.
It is the Bull's Conjunction with the Cow
(With blest encrease) that doth these things allow.
Without the Bull we should be so unstor'd,
The Kingdome could not yeeld a Posset Curd.
Know then by this (good Reader) what a Bull is,
And he that will not know it, but a Gull is.
The One (the Buls strong Eunuch son) is Chiefe
Of Mortall meats, (man-feeding vigorous Beefe)
And who so will amongst the Butchers seeke
In London, and in Westminster each weeke,
With those two Cities Bounds, and Liberties,
With Countrey Butchers, and the great supplies
That Market folkes do to those parts Impart
(The Load of many a Horse, and many a Cart)
The Beeves thus slaine, and eaten would appeare
Above 3000, each weeke through the yeere.
Chines, Surloyns, Flanks, Clods, Legs, doth fill us full,
Brisket and Marrow-bones comes from the Bull;
A Neats-tongue dri'd is deere, a Dish of State,
At Stilliard any man may know the Rate. *
With many more things which Ile not Recite,
'T would trouble men to Read, and I to write.
Thus do the Butchers Thriue, the Grasiers Gaine,
The Cooks and Victualers, do their states maintain,
Sowse-wives grow plump and fat, and 'tis because
Their sale is quicke for Muggets Paunches, Mawes,
Tripes, Reads, Neatsfeet, Cowheels, & Chitterlings,
Whilst many thousands feed on Bag-puddings.
Note but how well the Cheese-mongers do live,
And what a usefull gainfull Trade they drive:
Yet in their shops there is true Justice found
The poore mans peney, and the rich mans pound
Shall have true, weightaccordiag to proportion,
Without conivence, falshood, or extortion.
Were there no Buls, Chandlers were beggerd quite
Nor could they sell our darknesse any light
At any price of Reason, then our Guise
Were soone to go to Bed, and late to Rise.
Thus is the Bull, and the Bulls Breed descected
In Flesh and Entrales; now my Quil's erected
(In what is writ before I have not Lyde)
And now Ile siourish ore the Hornes and Hyde.
The Tanners wealth encreaseth day and Night,
'Till at the last his Sonne is dub'd a Knight:
And Daughters should be (could they purchase pride)
With Portions, and proportions Ladyfi'de.
The Currier also needs not Curry favoure,
For though his Trade smell, somethidg hath some sa­vour.
Nor would men be so mad as to prefer
Their sonnes bound prentise to a Shoomaker;
But that their future hopes do them perswade,
It is no Bare-footed and Bootlesse Trade.
Nor will it ever lack, or live in scorne,
'Till all our children without feet are borne;
For (more then any Trade) hee'le sing and play,
Whilst every Munday is his Holiday.
And when a Shoomaker fals to decay,
Hee'le be a Cobler new, and mend that way:
But there's a monstrous Trade, of late sprung forth,
Doth spoil more Leather then their skins are worth,
The best Hydes they devoure, and Gurmundize,
Which makes the worst in price too high to Rise;
With them the World doth bravely run on Wheeles,
Whilst poore men pinch and pay, quite out at heels.
But hold, what vessell have I set a Broach,
What is muse got jolting in a Coach?
Out with a vengeance, walk on foot I p [...]
And to the Bull again direct your way.
Now for the excellent Admired Horne
More profitable then the Unicorne.
For Hoopes, for Spectacles, for Combs to dresse yo [...]
(Which when they come so neere your heads, pray
And 'tis a Bull I have heard often said (blesse you)
Reach me the Iron Shooing Horne good Maid.
And when the Hunted Stag bids life farewell,
The Huntsmans Horn doth bravely Ring his Knell,
Which was the Bull-calves, or the Buls-horns once
Before the Gelder reft him of his stones.
Thus from the Bull, and the Bulls Breed you see,
A world of people still maintained be;
He finds flesh, Bootes, Shooes, Lights, and stands in stead
And great importance to afford us Bread.
The Bulls deare sonne (the Oxe) with daily toyle,
Weares out himselfe with plowing and turmoyle,
And all to find us bread, and when he dyes,
His Flesh, Hyde, Hornes and all, our wants supplies.
So much for Bulls now in particular,
For our Beare-Garden Bull, a Bull of war,
A stout, a valiant, and a Head-strong-Beast,
Which did not fight this 18 Moneths at least;
A Beast of mighty pollicy and power,
That at his Dog foes will looke Grim, and Lower,
Hee'le knit the Brow with terror, in such sort,
That when he chafes most, then he makes most sport;
At push of Pike, he with his head will play,
And with his feet spurne injuries away;
Hee'l turne and wind as nimble as an Eele,
And kicke, and skornes abuses with his Heele;
Hee'le fling and throw, hee'le bravely tosse & turn,
Hee'le hurle and heave, and dangerously spurne,
Note but his valour, when hee's at the stake,
How he prepares himselfe the Dog to take:
His f [...]eet fix'd fast, disdaining once to stirre,
His wary eye upon the angry Cur.
Whilst politickly with his Head he weaves,
And with advantage up his foe he heaves,
With such a force, that often with the fall
Hee's dead, or lam'd, or hath no power to sprawle.
Thus hath our Bull fought in his owne defence,
And purchas'd (for his Master (Crowns and pence.
And for that purpose may do so agen,
(I wish I had the knowledge to know when)
For since the time a Bull a Dog could tosse,
Our Beare-Garden had never such a losse:
But lets not lay the fault upon the Times,
But let us blame our selves, and cease our Crimes.

Bulls, Mistakes, Clenches, Long and short Tales.

A Tale of a Bull that was bought instead of a Cowe.

IT was well knowne to many ancient peo­ple to this day, that in the Citie of Glouce­ster, without the South Gate, in the Parish of Saint Ewins, (where my selfe was borne) there dwelt a Schoolemaster, who was called Master Greene, to whom I with ma­ny more went to Schoole, for some small learning beyond the Horn-Booke; This [Page] Master Greene did love new milke so well, that because he would be sure to have it new, he would buy a Cowe of his owne, and to that purpose went to the Beast Market, but by the way having met with some friends, and a Cup or two of Sack, it had so wrought in the old mans pate, that when he came to the Beast-market, his eyes so dazled and doated on a faire Bull, that he suppos'd his Cod to be a goodly Cowes Vdder; so he (neither na­ming Cowe or Bull) demanded the price of the Beast, till at the last the Bull was bought and sold, and driven home to a sta­ble of Master Greenes, who being glad of his good bargaine, told his wife of it; and when the Evening milking time was come, Master Greene, with his Wife and Maid, went to the Stable, where the Wench kneeling downe to milke, and ta­king the Bull by the Cod, shee said shee could find ne're a Teate, whereat the man and woman were amaz'd; and the Bull (for his owne ease) instead of milke, pist [Page] in the Paile, for the which Master Greene was ever mockt and flouted, and my selfe (with my Fellow Schollers) to shew our acute forwardnesse in Rime, and out of the thallownesse of our deepe judgements, composed this poeticall Enco nium.

Our Master Greene, was overseene,
In buying of a Bull;
For when the Maid, did meane to milke,
He pist the Paile halfe full- probatum.

Our Schoolemaster did take these Verses so kindly, that having found out the grave Authors of them; he (to ex­presse, or declare his love to Poetry) gave us such speedy, present, and yet backward sure payment, that we danc'd at it, and were so merry, that our cheekes ran downe with water.

Another Tale of a Towne Bull.

A Parson of a Countrey Village (for the encrease of Towne Calves) kept a lusty Bull, which serv'd for the use of the whole Parish; which Bull, was fallen so poor and leane, that his bones might have been almost told as they were ready to start out of his skin, and the cold Win­ter being come, the miserable Parson put the Bull to graze on the bare ground in in the Churchyard, (for there was little or no Grasse) and there was also a Horse of the Parsons as leane as the Bull, which fed (or fasted) in the said Churchyard. These poore Beasts being almost starved with hunger and cold, and the hardnesse of their Masters heart, it fortuned that in a very darkenight, there arose a very vio­lent Tempest of wind and raine, so that the Bull for succour and shelter from the weather, went into the Church porch, and there lay downe and dyed with cold and [Page] famine. The Horse likewise (having the like purpose to get out of the storme) went to the Church-porch, and by reason it was so darke, he stumbled over the dead Bull, and ran his head against the Church doore, which was so old and broken that with the force of the Horses fall, it flew o­pen and let the Horse into the Church, who recovering his legs, and walking up and downe, musing where he was, at the last he came to the Bell Ropes, which the Countrey people that used to Ring, had (for the ease of their hands) made wispes, or wads of Hay fast round about the hand­fasts or handles of the Ropes; the which Hay, the Horse smelling out, he being hungry, laid lippes to, and pull'd so hard at the Hay, that the Rope gave warning to the Bell, and the Bell to the Clapper, that it Rang now and then a stroake or twain, which the Parson hearing, he marvelled much what the matter should be, or who should jangle the Bels so confusedly at that time of the night, in the meane space [Page] the Horse goes from Rope to Rope, (as he could find them in the darke) which cau­sed every Bell to toll in an untuned Dia­pason: At last the Parson arose, and cal­led up the Clerke, and some neighbours, and lighted their Lanthornes (which were the lighter and the heavier for their Candles) so they came amazedly and fearefully to the Churchyard, and there they found the Bull dead in the Church­porch, and the Horse in the Bell-frey ring­ing his Knell. Although there be no im­possibilitie in this Tale, yet I am not guilty of the beleefe of it, nor am I bound to prove it.

Bulls with short Tales.

A Taxation, or levie, or payment was laid upon a Countrey Village, for the repairing or mending of a bad high­way, against the which collection the peo­ple grumbled and murmur'd very much; So that one of the most grave and wise of he Parish, said to the Officers that gathe­red [Page] the money, I tell you friends, if these kind of Bursements and elections be laid thus tollera­bly upon us; 'its enough to make folkes mad, and rise in devotion.

A Bull.

A Fellow going from London towards Rumford in Essex, before he came at Ilford, (som what neer the highway) he saw the carcases of three murderers hang'd in Chaines, and at his returne home being demaunded what newes he had brought out of the countrey; Truely (quoth he) I have no great newes to tell you, but I saw a rare sight, which was, I saw three men hang'd in Iibblets.

A cleare sighted Bull.

ONe met a man in the street, taking acquaintance of him thus, Sir, I am a stranger, and am mistaken in you, for you are not the Gentleman that I tooke you for, but I pray you pardon me, for I am sure I have seene you by sight.

Mistakes.

SOme neighbours being at hot conten­tion, for a matter of little or nothing: the businesse was brought before a Iu­stice, who said unto them, My good neighbours, I do wish you to agree, for the proverbe sayes truely, The Law is costly; therefore I would have you to put the Controversie to me, and I will set all differences even betwixt you; Truly Sir, said one, I do humbly thanke your wor­ship, the matter concernes my wife, and I put her Case to your Worship withall my heart; in truth quoth another, I am con­tented, I am willing to deferre the matter to your Worships discredit.

A Bull of authority.

A Major of a Countrey Towne, being sate with the rest of his Brethren, in the Towne-house began to make a grave [Page] Oration, beginning as followeth. Bre­thren, friends, and neighbours, I am in good hope that our proceedings will be to a good purpose, because we are so hap­pily and lovingly seperated together amongst our selves.

A shee Bull.

A Young Shee Citizen borne, was newly married, having never in her life been a Traveller further then she could heare the sound of Bow-Bell. Her Husband (on a time) went with her into the Countrey a Ayring, whereas they were going thorow a meddow, there was a Tree, upon one of the Boughes whereof a Mole-catcher had hang'd up many Moles or Wants which he had taken, which the young woman espying, shee call'd to her husband, saying, O what a sollitary life it is to live in the Citie, where no such fine things do grow as are heere in the Countrey, for looke you Husb and heere is a Black-pudding Tree.

A Roguish Flash.

A Poore man was going to the Mar­ket (on a Saturday) to buy Beefe, he having a Roguish boy to his sonne, the boy asked him whether he was going; he answered, I am going to the Butchers. O father (said the boy) the Butchers are crafty fellowes, and if you take not heed, they will co­sin you, therefore I advise you to take the Dog with you, for two heads are better then one.

A Flash.

A Neat Gentleman, with an Ash cou­lour, or Silver couloured paire of silke Stockings, going hastily through the gate that leads into the Pallace at Westmin­ster, suddenly, a woman (or maid) did chance to cast out a dish or pot of new­made warme water, some tale whereof lighted in the Gentlemans shooes, and withall besparkled his silke Stockings; at which, very angerly he said, Thou filthy base sluttish Queane, Canst thou not see, but [Page] throw thy stinking pisse into my shooes and hose? To whom she answered, Sir, I am sorry that I have done you any wrong, but yet you have done me a great deal more inju­ry then I have done to you, for I would have you know, that I am no such Slut as you call'd me, neither do I keep pisse till it stinkes, but I alwayes throw it away fresh and fresh as I make it.

A Bull.

TWo Gentlemen passing up the River of Thames, with a paire of Oares from London-Bridge towards Westminster, one of the Gentlemen did take somewhat in distaste, that one of the Watermen had either said or done to him; the Waterman did intreat him not to be angry, and said, he did mean no harme, and was sorry that a Gentleman should be angry for nothing; but the more the one did entreat, the more furious the other was, insomuch that he said to the Waterman, Sirra, hold your pra­ting, for I vow as I am a Gentleman, if I do rise and come to thee, I will knocke thy head and the wall together.

A Clench.

AN old man had sate tipling so long at the Ale-house, that he had almost gotten a Loafe out of the Brewers Bas­ket, and having an unhappy Boy to his sonne, who came for him to get him home, to whom the old man said, Sirra Boy have a care of me, and lead me well, for my head is very light; to whom the Boy an­swered, Father, it is long of your eyes that your head is light, for if they were out, your head would be in the darke.

A Bull.

A Gentleman riding in the Countrey, attended with one Servingman, they met a fellow that was a stride upon a Cowe, the Servingman said, Master be­hold, yonder is a strange sight. What is it said the Gentleman? why sir (said his man) looke you sir, there is one Rides on Horseback [Page] upon a Cowe; that's a great Bull, said the Gen­tleman; nay sir, said his man, it is no Bull, I know it is a Cowe by his Teats.

A Mistake.

ONe that was a Good-fellow upon the Score so farre, that many blacke posts did proclaime his credit in sundry Taverns, Ale houses, and Tobacco shops, Chalk was the Inke, to remember what Ch [...]n [...]e he owed for his Drinke. It hap­pened, that his braine being intoxicated with late tipling in a frosty Winters night, and his way being over a little Close from the Alehouse to his owne house, hee perceiving the Grasse all milke-white with the hoary frost; at which sight hee merrily said to one that went with him, Now I see that all the world is Chalk'd, and my Scores will never be seene for me to pay them.

A Bull.

TWo men in a hot Summer Evening, stripped themselves out of their Cloathes, to swimme or wash themselves in the Thames, or some other Brooke or River; and having (as they thought) staid overlong in the water, one of them said, Let us now go a Shore, and put on our cloathes, for it is time to go home. The other answered, do you go on shore first, I will but unlose a point, and come to you pre­sently.

A short Bull.

ONe said, that the best Bull-dog that ever he saw play at the Beare, was a Brended Bitch.

A Citie Bull.

TWo Citizens, having been making merry in Middlesex, came riding homewards through a Village called Acton (which is sixe miles from London) and perceiving a faire house, with the doores and windowes shut, one of them said, it was great pitty that such a hand­some building should want an inhabitant; to whom the other answered, you say true brother, it is pitty, but if I had this house in London, it should not stand empty heere.

A Curtoll Bull.

ONe said that he was so sows'd and dash'd with a showre of Raine, that he had ne're a dry thred wet about him.

A pretty Bull.

ONe was perswaded to go into the water and wash himselfe, he answe­red that it was dangerous, and that he did never meane to go into any River, or other wa­ter, before he had first learn'd to swimme per­fectly.

A Mistake.

A Man departed from his house, and dwelling privately, without taking leave of any body, and travell'd, so that it was not knowne to any what was become of him, at last there was a supposition that he was kill'd in a quarrell by a mad fellow that behaved himselfe so well, that few honest folkes lov'd him. This fellow was apprehended, and arraigned at the Assises for suspition of the fact, and by some strong presumptions appeared so guilty, that he was thought fit to be hang'd, and [Page] after a yeares imprisonment, he went a­broad now and then (with the leave of the Iaylor) where by chance he met the man that was supposed to be slaine by him; whereupon the prisoner got his li­berty: who comming among his old Consorts, he said, My Masters, I have en­dured a great deale of trouble about killing of a Rascall, and nothing grieves me so much, as that I met the Rogue sixteene moneths after in Aylsbury Market.

A Bull.

ONe said that the High Sherife of Yorkeshire did entertaine the Iudges in a brave and commendable fashion, with one hundred and twenty men, all in one saire Livery of Gray Marble.

Of a Fryer.

A Preaching Fryer once reprooved his Auditors for sleeping at his Ser­mons, but yet (said he) I pray you do not refraine comming to Church though you doe sleepe, for God Almighty may chance to take some of you napping.

Of a Saylor and his Wife.

A Saylor was absent on a Voyage three yeeres, in the meane space his Wife had a Boy, twenty moneths old, to enter­taine him withall at his returne: the Say­lor said, Wife, whose childe is this: mar­ry husband (quoth she) it is mine, and God sent it me in your absence. To which the man repli'd, I will keepe this child, because God sent him, but if God send me any more on that fashion, he shall keep them himselfe.

A witty Tale of a new married man.

A Young fellow being newly married, having been from home, came sud­denly into his house, and found his Wife at foule play with another man: the poor young Cuckold ran presently and told his wives father all the businesse, who replyed thus; Sonne, I married her mother, and I tell thee plaine that thy wife seemes to be her daughter in conditions as well as fea­ture, for I have taken her mother many times in that manner, and no warning would serve her, till in the end age made her leave it, and so will thy wife do when she is old and past it.

A Tale of three Gossips, that would know, Whereabouts a Cuckolds hornes do grow.

THree Gossips in a Tavern, chatting o­ver a Pint of Sherry, said one of them, I muse whereabouts a Cuckolds hornes grow; quoth the second, I think they do grow in the pole, or nape of the neck; ve­rily, quoth the third, I do think it to be [Page] true, for my Husbands bands are alwayes worn out behind.

Of a Whore.

ONe called a Whore lazie jade, con­tent your selfe, quoth another, as la­zie as she seemes, she is able to carry a man quicke to the Divell.

Of Cuckolds.

A Company of neighbours that dwelt all in a rowe, in one side of a street; one of them said, Let us 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; (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.

A Clench.

A Gentleman being in a house of ini­quitie, or Cousin-German to a Baw­dy house, the roome being very darke, he called alowd for a light Huswife; to whom a Wench made answer, I come Inconti­nent.

He calls for light, she under stood him right,
For shee was vanity which made her light:
She said she would incontinent attend,
To make her Continent, she needs to mend.

A Mistake.

TWo Maids (or servants) dwelling in a house together, the one of them having occasion to use a Steele, smoothing Iron, or some such kinde of Laundry In­strument, and having sought it, and not finding it, said to her fellow, thou dost mislay every thing in the house, and art so [Page] busie a baggage that thou canst let nothing stand; to which the other answered, and you are so way ward and teasty, that a lit­tle thing troubles you, and puts you in a great anger.

A Gentlewomans answer to a Captaine.

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, he was made to fight, and not to dance: to whom she answered, that it were good that he were oil'd and hang'd up in an Ar­mory, till there were occasion to use him.

Of a Huffing Gallant

ONe asked a Huffing Gallant, why he had not a Looking-Glasse in his Chamber, he answered, he durst not, be­cause he was often angry, and then he look'd so terribly, that he was fearefull to looke upon himselfe.

Of a fellow that was whipt.

THere was a fellow that (not for his goodnesse) was whipt at a Carts­tayle; and in his execution he drew back­ward, to whom a Gentleman (in pitty) said, Fellow, do not draw back, but presse forward, and thy execution and paines will be the sooner past and done; to whom the Rogue answered, It is my turn now, when thou art whip'd, do thou go as thou wilt, and now I will go as I please.

Beleeve it if you list.

ONe said, that he had travaild so farre that he had laid his hand upon the hole where the wind came forth: a second said, that he had bin at the farthest edge of the world, and driven a nayle quite tho­row it: the third repli'd, that he had been further, for he was then on the other side of the world, and clencht that nayle.

Of a Pope.

THere was a Pope, who being dead, it is said that he came to heaven 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 having the Keyes, mayest unlocke the gate and enter? The Pope replyed, saying, that his predecessors had the Keyes, but since their time the Wards were altered.

A Tale betwixt a Miser and a poore Man.

A Rich Miser, being reviled by a poore man, whom he had oppressed; the rich man said, Thou Dog, leave thy bark­ing: the poore man answered, that he had one quality of a good dog, which was, to barke when he saw a Thiefe.

An unhappy answer of a Boy to his father playing at Dice.

A Man being deeply in play at Dice, ha­ving lost much mony, his son (a little lad) being by him, wept; quoth the fa­ther, Boy, why dost thou weepe? the Boy answered, that he had read that Alexan­der the Great, wept when he heard that his [...]her (King Philip) had conquered many Cities, Townes, and Territories, fearing that he would leave him nothing ro win; and I weepe the contrary way (quoth the boy) for I feare that my Father will leave me nothing to lose.

Of one that opprest the Poore.

AN Oppressor having feld all the trees in a Forrest, which for a long time had been the reliefe of many poore peo­ple, said, that it was as good as a Comedy to him to see the trees fall; to whom a [Page] poore man said, I hope, as thou makest a Comedy of our miseries, that three of those trees may be reserved to finish a Tragedy for thee and thy children.

Of one that forgot his old acquaintance.

ONe lamented his friends hard for­tune, that being raised to a place of honour, was growne senselesse, forgetting all his old familiar acquaintance, and so far from knowing any man, that he knew not himselfe.

Of Instruments and Engines.

THe Plough surpasseth the Pike, the Harrow excelleth the Halbert, the Coulter exceeds the Cuttleax, the Goad [...] better then the Gunne; for the one [...]are the Instruments of life and profit, and the other are the Engines of death, and all kinds of calamities.

Either shame, or hunger.

A Poore man is in two extreames: first, if he aske, he dyes with shame; se­condly, if he aske not, hee dies with hun­ger.

An Officers excuse.

ONe being in Office, was reproved for negligence; his excuse was, that it was his best policy to be idle: for if hee should do ill, he should displease God, and if he should do well, he should offend men: [...] whom one answered, you ought to do [...]our dutie, for in well doing you shall [...]ease God, and in ill doing you shall [...]lease men.

How women take pleasure to be sued unto.

VVOmen take great pleasure to be to be sued to, though they never meane to grant.

Of Suites in Law.

ONe said that Suiters in Law were mortall, and their sure immortall and that there is more profit in a quicke deniall, then in a long dispatch.

Of Rome.

A Traveller was talking what a good City Rome was, to whom one of the company said, that all Rome was not Italy for we had too much Rome in England.

Irish wood an enemy to Caterpillars.

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 live, 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.

Thomas Coriat's complaint of Iohn Taylor.

MAster Thomas Coriat (on a time) com­plained against me to King Iames, [Page] desiring His Majestie that he would cause some heavie punishment to be inflicted upon me, for abusing him in writing (as he said I had) to whom the King replide, that when the Lords of His Honourable Privie Councell had leisure, and nothing else to do, then they should heare and de­termine the differences betwixt Master Coriat the Scholler, and Iohn Taylor the Sculler: which answer of the King was very acceptable to Master Coriat. Where­upon I made this following Petition to the King.

TO THE KINGS MOST Excellent Majestie.

The humble Petition of Iohn Taylor, your Majesties poore Water-Poet.

Sheweth,
MOst mighty Monarch of this famous Ile,
(Vpon the knees of my submissive mind)
I beg thou wilt be graciously inclin'd,
To reade these lines my rusticke Pen compile:
Know (Royall Sir ( Tom Coriat works the wile,
Your high displeasure on my head to bring;
And well I wot, the sot, his words can file,
In hope my fortunes head-long down to fling.
The King, whose Wisdome through the world did ring,
Did heare the cause of two offending Harlots;
So, I beseech thee (Great) great Britaines King,
To do the like for two contending Varlots.
A brace of Knaves your Majestie implores,
To heare their suites as Solomon heard Whores,

A Ribble-Rabble of Gossips.

THe space of a fortnight from the Bear-baiting, two houres and a halfe from the Wind-mill, about foure of the Clocke in the forenoone, a little after sup­per in the morning, betweene old mother Maudlin, of the Parish of Ideots, Plaintiffe, of the one party, and Gossip Gitlian, of Gos­sips Hall, in the Parish of Twattlebourgh, of the other party, Defendant. A mauer in Controversie depending of issues, where­upon it was constulted by the right reve­rend Matron, Madam Isabel, that Katharine should go no more a Maying with Susan in the coole of the Evening before sun-ri­sing, whereupon Lister took the matter snuffe, and swore by the crosse of Audr [...] Bugle-bow that Ione should jogge to [...] house to borrow her poking sticke: upon this Philiday starts up very jeparately, and commands Marget to make haste to Rache [...] house, and borrow a dozen of left handed [Page] spoones: now old Sibill all this while sate mumping like a Gib-Cat, and on the sud­den she starts up, and thrusts Charity out of doores, to take up her lodging where shee could get it; Doll being much offended to see Marget invited to Prec [...]aes wedding, by no meanes could suffer Abigaile to breake her fa [...]t before she got Victuals; presently Bettrice whispers Cicily in the care foftly, that all the company heard it, and bad her tell Alice, that unlesse she took heed, the pot would run over, and the fat lie in the fire; at this Mary clap'd her hands together, and entreats Blanch to tell her Cozen Edith, how shee should say that Luce should say, that Elizabeth should do the thihg she wots of. Amy hearing all this with a judiciall understanding capaci­ty, at last tels Parnell, that her daughter Rebecka was gone to lie at her Aunt Christians house in Shooing-horne Alley. Now in the heat of all this businesse, Barbara tels Frances how there is good Ale at the La­bour-in-vaine: the matter being brought [Page] to this passe, Winifrid sayes that her god­daughter Grace, is newly brought, (God blesse the child) and that Constance the Comfit-makers wife, at the signe of the Spiders leg, must be Gossip; out alas sayes Temperance, what have I forgot, I should have been an houre agone at Prudences the Laundresse, to have taken measure of a paire of Cuffes for her Maid Dorcas: Now to conclude the businesse, Martha protests that she will never trust Thomasin againe while she lives, because she promi­sed to meet her at Pimlico, and bring her neighbour Bethya with her, and came not. Neverthelesse Faith went to mother Red­Caps, & by the way metwith Ioyce, who ve­ry kindly batled her peny w th her at a fat Pig. Well quoth Sara, all this wind shakes no corn, and I should have bin a starching Mistresse Mercies Lawne Apron, and like a good Huswife I am prating heere. Neigh­bours and friends, quoth Arbella, seeing the matter drawes toward so good a con­clusion, let's een have the tother Pint be­fore [Page] we go; truly sayes Iane, the motion is not to be misliked, what say you Gossip Vrsula truly sayes Ellin, I would go with you with all my heart, but I promist to meet Lydya at a Lector that we might take a neighbourly nap together. Vpon this rose a hurly burly, that the whole assem­bly dispersed themselves divers wayes, some one way, some another, and in con­clusion, the businesse was all wisely ended as it was begun.

A Beare.

Beare and forbeare, I now speake of the Beare,
And therefore (Reader) give, or lend an Eare.
FIrst therefore, in much briefenesse I am rendring
Where, and how Beares have breeding and en­gendring,
Some are Ossean, some are Callidonian,
Some Aeremanthian Beares, and some Aemonian,
Some rugged Russians, some Sun-burnt Numidians, Amphi­bians)
And lastly, the white swimming Beares,
Some do affirme a Beare to be a creature,
Whelp'd like a lump, with neither shape or feature,
Untill the Damme doth licke it into fashion,
And makes the lamp a Beare in transformation.
As Taylors with their precious wisdomes Tallants,
Do licke, and Metamorphose Gulls to Gallantt.
Whereby a fashion oft is shap'd (by chance)
Out of an ill-bread lumpe of ignorance.
But for the Beare he keepes his shape most constant,
The Taylor (and his creatures) change each instant,
The Beare keepes still, the fashion he brought hither,
The gallant Gull's inconstant, like Weather.
A Beare's a temperate Beast, most free from riot,
A prudent Schoolmaster, of sparing dyet,
Hee'le live foure moneths from every kind of meat,
By sucking of his left foot, like a Teat.
Which is an abstinence that doth require,
More then the fast of a Carthusisian Fryer,
No Capuchin, or immur'd Anchorite,
Did never (so much) curbe his Appetite.
And as Beares suffer hunger, I am sure,
No beast created, doth more cold endure:
When fridged Boreas blustring blasts do blow,
Mid'st Rocks, of hoary Ice, and hills of Snow,
The worst of Winters sharp extremity,
The hardy Beare, abides most constantly.
And in hot Africke, and the Libian Coast,
Where Phaebus flames doth seeme the world to Roast:
Where Negro Moores, are dride and blackly dide,
That heat (excessive) there the Beare doth bide.
So that with hunger, heat, and pinching cold,
The Beares extremities are manifold.
Being growne unto Maturity and strength,
And having hither past the seas, at length,
At Beare-Garden, (a sweet Ro [...]untious Golledge)
Hee's taught the Rudiments of Art and knowledge.
There doth he learne to dance, and (gravely grum­bling)
To fight & to be Active (bravely tumbling)
To practise wards, and postures, to and fro,
To guard himselfe, and to offend his foe;
Upon his hind feet, Tipto stiffe to stand,
And cuffe a Dog off with his foot-like hand;
And afterwards (for recreations sake)
Practise to run the Ring about the stake.
Whilst showts, and Mastives mouthes do fill the sky
That sure Acteon ne're had such a cry.
Thus Beares do please the hearing and the sight,
And sure their sent will any man invite:
For whosoer'e spends most, shall finde this fauour,
That by the Beares and Dogs, hee's made a savour.
And as a Common-wealth, (oft by Ill-willers;)
Is vex'd by prowling knaves, and Caterpillars,
So is a Beare (which is a quiet Beast)
By Curres and Mungrels, oftentimes opprest.
And tyde to what he doth hee's bound to see,
The best and worst of all their cruelty.
And for mens monies, what shift ere they make for't,
What ere is laid or paid, the Beare's at stake for't.
Though he be hardly drawne to't, 'gainst his will,
Hee's bound to see and beare, and bide much ill;
Besides the baiting of a Beare is rare,
Unlike the baiting of a Horse or Mare:
The Horse hath Provender, and Hey for Bait,
And doth in peace and quiet eate his meat;
When as the Beare, is Tugg'd, Lugg'd, Bit & Beaten
And eates no Bait, but likely to be Eaten.
A Beare is like a Watchman by his coat,
He weares a Rugge-Gowne alwayes (if you note,)
And (like a Watchman) oft a Beare will be
As mannerly, and watch as well as he.
And as a grumbling Officer may weare
A Collor and a Chaine, so doth a Beare.
'Tis writ by Authors (Philosophicall)
How that a Beare is usefull, Physicall,
For Agues, and hot Feavers, take his haire,
His Greace (or Lard) will aking Limbes repaire:
His Marrow strengthens, (if you do annoint)
Shrunk Sinewes, Nerves, or an enfeebled joint,
The oyle boyl'd from his feet will operate
The Gowtes tormenting much to mitigate,
And when man's in consumption, like to pine,
The Bears pith's good, that grows amidst his Chine.
A Beares skin Tann'd it'h haire, is for a bed
Better then Blanquet, Rugg, or Coverled.
A Beares Teeth, Painters in high price do hold,
To make them Instruments to gild with gold,
And for his Furre it is such ex'lent stuffe,
That Many a Lady weares it in a Muffe;
Dry a Beares Liver, and to Powder beat it,
And let a Maid of forty five yeares eat it;
Although a thousand false Knaves would deceive her
Yet she shall keep her Maidenhead for ever.
Thus having shew'd of Beares their sundry bree­ding
Their formes, their admirable sparing feeding:
Their patience, courage, temperance, sortitude,
And many vertues that have them endu'd,
For feare I should mens patience much offend,
Ile give one short touch more and make an end.
Then for the further honour of the Beares,
They (with the stars) are mounted in their Sphears:
There Vrsa Major in the firmament,
Is stellifide, a glorious ornament,
And there, the little Beare, (a starre more finer)
Is call'd Artophilax, or Vrsa Minor,
And who so reads the second part of Ovid,
There shall they finde (what here is writ) approved.
Now once againe, pray lend your eyes and eares,
Ile write of baiting of the Bulls and Beares.
It is a Game so ancient, that I wot
Records can scarce shew when we usde it not.
Except now, in these sad infectious times,
That heav'ns just hand doth plague us for our crimes,
The Game is by authority supprest:
And Beares, and Bulls, and Dogs, have too much rest,
Through want of baiting growne to such a straine,
(Hard to be tam'd, or brought in frame againe)
Almost all mad for want of exercise,
Filling the Aire with roaring and with cries,
That those who neer the Bear-Garden are dwelling
Do heare such bellowing bawling, yawling, yelling,
As if Hell were broake loose, or (truth to speake)
The Devils at foot-ball were or Barley-breake.
There's three couragious Bulls, as ever plaid,
Twenty good Beares, as er'e to stake was taid,
And seventy Mastives of such Breed and Races,
That from fierce Lions will not turne their faces;
A male and female Ape (kind Jacke and Jugge)
Who with sweet complement do kisse and hugge,
And lastly there is Jacke an Apes his Horse,
A Beast of fiery fortitude and force.
As for the Game I boldly dare relate,
'Tis not for Boyes, or fooles effeminate,
For whoso'ere comes thither, most and least,
May see and learne some courage from a Beast:
And 'tis not only a base Rabble Crew,
That thither comes, It may be proved true,
That to the Beare-Garden comes now and than,
Some Gamesters worth ten thousand pounds a man.
For rough behaviour that's no great disgrace,
There's more hors-play us'd at each deere hors-race,
More heads, or legs, or necks, are broake each day,
At Cards, Dice, Tables, Bowles, or foot-ball-play.
The Game hath been maintain'd, and will, we hope
Be so againe (now favour gives it scope)
For Kings, for Princes, for Ambassadors,
Both for our Countreym [...]n, and forreigners.
Which hath been held, a Royalty and Game,
And (though ecclips'd) will be againe the same.
But now (to make an end) must be explain'd,
How it the name of Paris-Garden gan'd:
The name of it was from a Royall Boy,
(Brave Illions fire-brand, wracke and sacke of Troy)
[...] [...]
Paris (King Priams sonne) a sucking child,
Was throwne away into the woods so wilde,
There that young Prince was cast to live or perish,
And there a Bear with sucke, the babe did cherish;
And as a rare memoriall of the same,
From Paris, Paris-Garden hath the name.
Those that will not beleeve it, let them go
To France, in Paris, they may find it so,
Or if not there, let them looke narrowly,
In Matthew Paris famous History.
And that we have obtain'd againe the Game,
Our Paris-Garden Flag proclaimes the same.
Our Beares, and Bulls, and Dogs, in former state,
The streets of London do perambulate,
And honest sport, and lawfull merriment,
Shall thrice a weeke be shew'd, to give content.

Heere followes the Names of the Bulls and Beares at the Beare­Garden now.

The Bulls are,
  • 1 Goldilocks.
  • 2 Emperour.
  • 3 Dash.
  • 4 Iugler.
The Beares are,
  • 1 Ned of Canterbury.
  • 2 George of Cambridge.
  • 3 Don Iohn.
  • 4 Ben Hunt.
  • 5 Nan Stiles.
  • 6 Beefe of Ipswich.
  • 7 Robin Hood.
  • 8 Blind Robin.
  • [Page]9 Iudith of Cambridge.
  • 10 Besse Hill.
  • 11 Kate of Kent.
  • 12 Rose of Bedlam.
  • 13 Nan Talbot.
  • 14 Mall Cut-Purse.
  • 15 Nell of Holland.
  • two white Beares.
    • 16 Mad Besse
    • 17 Will Tookey
  • 18 Besse Runner.
  • 19 Tom Dogged.

If any will have one of these, or some, Or all, let them to our Beare-Garden come: These beasts are for their service bound, & [...] And there their pleasures may be satisfide.

Vpon the goodnesse of a wor­thinesse of Horses, with a merry touch of the Beare-Garden Palfrey, or Jacke-an-Apes his Horse.

MY Muse is Mounted 'twixt the soaring wings
Of Pegasus, who bravely flies and flings
Through ayre, through clouds, through sun-shine, & descries
Each earthly Regions Rare Varieties.
The numbers infinite, of sundry creatures,
Their strange diversity in formes and Natures,
And as in gliding flight, I swiftly soare
Or'e Sun-burnt Africke, and the Libian shore,
There (with much pleasure) I did cast mine eye
Upon the well-made Horse of Barbarie,
And crossing or'e the Mediterran Maine,
I saw the prauncing Jennet of proud Spaine,
straight the Iberian fume of Aristippus,
[...]url'd us to Greece, and there I view'd their Hippos.
Then back or'e Italy amaine we flew,
Whereas their fierce Cavallo I did view,
In Naples I the Courser brave espide,
Thence, we or'e Almaine, and low Belgia glide,
There my Muse saw the bounding Palfrey Prancē,
From thence my wing'd horse bore me over France
There foaming fiery hot the gallant Gaul,
Did daunce Corantoes with his Frenth Chevall.
Then or'e Hibernia, we tooke speedy flight,
And there the Irish Hobby pleas'd my sight,
Then my Pegasian wings began to flag,
I view'd the English Steed, and Scottish Nag.
And as the heat of blood my Bcast inflames
He kick'd and threw me headlong into * Thames,
And as I fell, his hoofe bestow'd a wince,
Upon my pate, and there's the marke ere since.
The gentle River at my fall did grieve,
Set me on land safe, gave me meanes to live:
And Pegasus inspir'd me with his heele,
That ever since an itching vaine I feele,
Of sprightfull Poesie, though not so well,
As men may say I therein do excell.
But I can do (as many more have done)
Bring Reames of Paper to confusion.
Nor doth my Muse rejoyce in merriments,
Drawne from wits sorded obsceane excrements;
Ile curbe her in, from medling with the State,
Or libelling 'gainst men infortunate,
I meane to keep my eares upon my head,
And on mens miseries I scorne to tread.
I have observ'd no proud man ever yet,
Did any thing but ruine, and hatred get;
I know obedience, and humilitie,
Is best with all belov'd tranquilitie,
I know the lawes guard me from mischiefes Jawes,
Which lawes I love, & those that made those lawes
Nor shall my lines (for things indifferent)
In Church or Common-wealth er'e make a rent.
Thus Pegasus did to Pernassus soare,
And on the Thames I got a healthfull Oare,
Which ofttimes I have us'd, and will againe,
Meane time Ile use the vigour of my braine,
As Homer writ the warres of Mice and Frogs,
So I (his Ape) do write of Beares and Dogs:
Of Bulls, and Bulls begot by word of mouth
Of Horses, and some Tales of age and youth,
And now my Muse againe begins to mount,
The Horses excellency to recount,
You famous Palfreyes of the flaming Sunne,
(That scorn'd the management of Phaeton)
Who with the heat of Sol's bright Axelltree
Caus'd all this under world on fire to be;
(I know the morall meaning of the same,
Is, man should not beyond true reason ayme.)
Let Ecus, Phlegon, Aethon, and Piruis,
Apolloes golden Teame Assist my Muse,
But 'tis no matter, keepe your daily course,
Without your aide my wit is nere the worse;
Whilst you are reeking with celestiall sweat
I, of Terrestriall Horses meane to treat.
A Horse (of all the Beasts beneath the skie)
Is best, and most for mans commodity:
His exact making gives the eye delight,
A body brave, lin'd with a noble sprite,
And though he knew no reson, or a mind,
Yet unto man hee's tractably enclin'd,
In dangerous war, the Horse the brunt doth carry,
Where every Rider seemes a Sagitary,
In peace, a Horse for state, for Tilt or Tourney,
For quicke dispatch, or ease in any journey,
For pleasure, carriage, and for husbandry,
The Horse doth furnish our necessity.
The poorest Horse that is, or ever was,
Doth much more service then the golden Asse,
Thats deck'd with borrowed trappings, yet such beasts,
Advance audaciously their brainlesse Crests,
Neere where the Princely Lyon doth resort,
And there in pride and sensuall lust do snort,
Yet can they not out strip all beasts so farr,
But Wisdomes eye perceives them what they are.
The hunting Horse is of good use for pleasure.
The Sumpter Horse doth understand the treasure.
The Mill-horse hath an endlesse journey (round)
The Pack-horse overladen measures ground,
The Mare and Gelding servesour businesse well,
Whilst (for poore Hackneyes) England is a Hell.
And what's a Horses gaine for all his paine,
But bread, grasse, hay, oats, or such kind of Graine, tyres.
That is the summum bonum, he desires,
Through want of which there's many a good Horse
I have seene Gallants (three parts drunke almost)
*Ride, as they meant to see the Devill in post,
And when they to their journies end have come,
Their horses mucky wet, with sweat and foame,
The Riders fall unto their drinking vaine,
The Ostler walkes the Horse a turne or twaine,
Their jawes tyde up unto the empty Racke,
The whilst their Riders smoake, and swallow sack,
Quaffes, capers, sings a Katch, a round, or Ditty,
And leaves the Horse unto the Hostlers pitty,
And so the jades of meat do get such store,
As Lazarus once had at the Gluttons dore.
Thus many a good Horse proves a jade indeed
Being over rid, and want whereon to feed,
All those that to a beast beares such a mind,
I wish them all so served in their kind.
There's many wayes, mens barbarous cruelty,
Doth cause diseases multiplicity
To be in Horses, and the damned Trade
To sell a Botch'd sophisticated jade,
In * Smithfield is in practise twice a weeke,
He that beleeves me not, let him go seeke.
There shall he see the ambler made to trot,
The lame and founderd, lusty, (being hot)
The trotter shall be forc'd with ease to amble,
And through the horsemarket shall be such scamble
With galloping, and trotting, ambling, pacing,
Most odious swearing, lying, and out-facing,
Such dawbing horses griefes with counterfeiting,
That hee's a cunning buyer scapes their cheating.
In ancient times, horses much fame did gaine,
Which Poets and Historians do maintaine:
Besides the swist skie-scalding Pegasus,
Great Alexander had Bucephalus,
Reinoldo had his Bayard, and there are,
Names giv'n to horses, both in peace and war.
But leaving stately horses, it is found †
The Bear-garden is circular, or rovnd,
Where Iack-an-Apes his horse doth swiftly run
His circuit, like the horses of the Snn.
And quicke as lightning, his will trace and track,
Making that endlesse round his Zodiacke,
Which Iacke (his Rider) bravely rides a straddle,
And in his hot Careere perfumes the saddle;
Hee's active, and hee's passive in his pace,
And sprung from ancient and approved race,
His grandsires grandsire, was begot perforce,
Between the Night-mare, and the Trojan Horse,
That female Horse of Sinon, in whose wombe
A hundred well-arm'd mad Colts had their roome,
Wch being foald, spoild Troy, with sword & flame,
and from that Jade, our jade descent doth claime,
For (as his parents oft have done before)
He alvvayes keepes a jadish tricke in store.
FINIS.

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