NOSCE TE, (HVMORS.)BY RICHARD TVRNER.

Disce dediscere.
[printer's device formerly of John Wolfe; framed device of a fleur-de-lis with two cherubs and I. W. (McKerrow 294)]

LONDON Printed by I. W. for Iefferey Chorlton, and are to be sold at his shop, at the great North doore of Pauls. 1607.

TO THE READER.

DIgnare indignis (Reader) soft, I might as wel haue called you gentle, per Anti­phrasin, you'l say but you were not best bee prating, lest I make Cato claw you by the Coxecombe, with ne ad concilium, &c. But Apology, define plura, doe you heare (predicte) heeres asixepenie purchase for you; I thinke you may call it Epigrames, or a booke of this thing and that thing, and iust nothing, if you haue better skil, you may scoffe at it, or you may looke and laugh at it, you may buy it and beare it, and then you may eyther reade it, or heare it, or else take it and teare it, or if you can doe nothing else, clip your taile twixt your legs, like a weary sheepe, and cry mew but may be, your stomacke hath prest your belly to the three peny Ordi­nary, take this word in your pocket, for tis not there I assure you. Farewel.

Richard Turner.

TO THE CARPING Misinterpretor.

CEase gualde-backt-guilt, my inscious lines to mince,
The world will know you are rub'd if once you wince,
They hemme within their seeming criticke wall,
Particularly none, generally all;
Mongst which if you haue chancht to catch a pricke
Crie Wee-hie if you will, but do not kicke.

NOSCE TE, (Humors.)

NOsce te, (Humors) fantasticke, know thy selfe,
The ape of fashions, Natures very Elfe,
Here learne, abhorre, reforme thy infamous rumors,
Platter fac't Proteus (Nosce te, Humors.)
MEete swearing Samme; and say you are glad he's wel,
Euen so is he by you; he is by hell:
Aske him if he a pinte of wine will take,
He'le giue it you; aye by the Stygian lake:
Tell him t'is spoke his dealings are but euill,
His humor scorneth rumor, aye by the diuell.
This his detested swearing, each man loathes,
His oathes are his, God grant, he not his oathes.
SEarch from the orient to the occident
To find some vnknowne-land by accedent:
Wring Prester Iohn by the beard, draw Cham by'th heeles,
Tie such as Hector to our chariot wheeles,
Pish, what were this? now none are famde but drinkers;
Lets to a tauerne, be as drunke as Tinkers,
Drag vp some whores into the roome by'th'haire,
Swingde vp the Vintner, throw the Drawer down staires,
Rouse out with such a horrid thunder, score.
Make Errabus amasde, the Welkin rore,
Fall out, scolde, fight, and after all these quarrels,
Sucke out the very entrals of the barrels:
O had we neuer ended Spanish iarres,
Then these had neuer beene our English warres.
OTher mens ioyes chifefly from those Ioise descend,
Yet (cruel Ioise) my ioyes in Ioise haue end,
My onely ioyes, by onely Ioise are crost,
Ioise is my loue, in whome my ioyes are lost.
HArke how he blowes, puffe, he'l cassear you all
Gallants, alane, giue Gurmandise the [...]all:
O Buttockes! bigger then a paire of butt's,
The very paragon of grease and guts,
Atturney, I crie you mercy, now Ile sweare
Tis he hath made tuftaffatie so deare,
A sixeyearde iacket's nothing, for ile tell ye
Th'ers a huge circuit bout his boundles belly;
Ale by whole runnes, the vastiles conceales,
Tis strange, no tripe-wife for his garbage deales,
Yet all's not lost by feeding Gurmandise,
Then weepe not (Besse) for when thy husband dies,
Doe thou but seeth the entrals of the chuffe,
Thou art worth at least fiue marke in kitching stuffe;
Yet soft, ile make a Proclamation,
That cloth and stuffe, may ioine in supplication;
And pray (O mutton pasties) goose and pigge,
That bellies may breake before they grow so bigge.
BLessed Creator) turne thy cursed creature,
The best by name's become the badst by nature
Grace, now giue ore that name, be Grace no more
O Grace is graceles, for Grace is a whore.
SHine hollow Caues, and thou celestiall round,
Droppe downe harmonious accents from thy sphears,
Let heaven and earth with merry noise resound,
The Flagge hanges out to day thei'l baite the beares,
For how to spend my time I could not tell,
Cause al the whores of Lambeth, be in Bridewel.
Thus idle Libertines consume their liues,
In some detested sinne, some horrid vice,
Rauishing maides, dishonesting mens wiues.
At tauernes, bawdy houses, playes, whores, dice,
They that haue libertie, do thus abuse it,
Cursed, nay all most dambd, are they that vse it.
MVmme chancing Tom to his eternall grace,
The dicing-heraldes did create sise ace,
This Tom in gamling was (forsooth) so nice
No tricke escapte his knowledge on the dice:
Barde cater trayes, fullomes, high cuts, low cuts
Nay Tom did know the dices very guts,
But what auaileth skill, if lucke be bad,
Ingratum fatum, Tom lost all he had.
When loe to dire reuenge Thomas is drawne,
And put his cloake (despight the dice) to pawne,
But valiant dice better at blowes then brawle
Conquerde at armes, cloke, doublet, hose and all,
Quoth furious Tom, is this my merit's meede?
A plague vpon't, heer's bare—lucke indeed
Then cals all villanes, rogues, panders and whores,
And in his summer's sute, swinges out of dores,
Catch-poles, and bruers horses, giue the wall,
Or breechles Thomas sweares hee'l bang you all.
MEndoso's turnd, what? swaggerer, by this light,
I am sure he is not, beleaue't he is, hee'l fight,
Hee's rich and valiant, as a man may be,
London affordes none properer then he,
See how he laughes, nay, prethee doe not score it,
I am sure tis true, I heard him when he swore it,
Trust me you wrong the Gentleman, nay fie,
Tis a lest indeed, Mendoso sweare and lie.
A Gentleman, why? he hath beene once or twise
Why, I hope to God a Seruing man may rise,
Why name you Ambodexter mongst the rest,
Did he follow him? tis true, he did in iest,
The other morning to disgest his canne,
To cut Tobacco, he swore he mist his man,
Disgrac't to fil't himselfe, in a great rage
Can curse the Earle, that needes would haue his Page,
He had a Page, he lies that dare say nay,
Three daies he seru'd him, ere he runne away:
He's turnd I assure you, lies as well as many,
Bids God renounce his soule better than any:
Cries (villaines) I haue learnd a new Carouse,
No man comes neere me in a Bawdie house:
When others pawnd their land, he spent no ground,
Because he had none: but almost three hundred pound.
He spent indeed a little which he got,
Question not how, perchance it was his lot.
AS my yong Mistris walked by her gate,
A Beggar askt her worship for a pennie,
Shee prizing worship at the lowest rate,
Bade him be packing for he gote not any:
Another kneeling, came with (good your honor)
And t'was no maruell, for shee wore a Hood:
Shee hearing such a title put vpon her,
I warrant (quoth shee) his breeding hath bin good:
Out came her purse, and money, read how much,
A penny faith, her honors bounty was such.
TOuch not my Rapier, for by my rapiers hilt,
If thou defile my rapier with thy sight,
Then by the radiance of my rapiers gilt,
My rapier sends you to eternall night:
But see it quoth a? know slaue, my rapier scornes
The vile beholding of so base a groome.
What will you faith? come, come, Ile cut your cornes:
Die (villaine) die, or quickly leaue the roome,
Cham not so simple, quoth the countrey clowne,
To runne away for euery Mouse that cries.
Chau beene the lustiest man in all our town:
Quoth Hot-spurre (O my spleene) by Ioue he dies.
Plain-dealing Tom, esteeming that course best,
Drew a hudge Ale-house dagger from his backe:
Put vp, quoth Hot-spurre, canst abide no iest,
In conscience I should beate thee like a sacke:
Rusticke was ready, Hot-spurre gan to fawne,
Faith hee'd haue beate him, if he had not drawne.
OBtaine of me my liuing, lands and life,
Obtaine the nightly lodging with my wife:
Commaund me hang my selfe, nay fight for thee,
Nay (sweet friend) my rapier must be free
What else I haue, by your name is knowne,
What's mine's my friende's, saue only that's mine owne:
Of mettels strange, of composition rare,
Like Mars his sword, my rapier scornes compare,
Is not possession to thefts fier fuel?
Whoe'd trust security such a iewel?
Who hath your rapier that you doe not feare it?
Nay, where's your rapier that you do not weare it?
O sir, so many cans of expence,
Why doe you laugh? faith tis not pawnd for sixpence.
SPlendor of nature, luster of a nose,
Whose colour far exceeds the reddest rose,
A radiant nose, for brightnes glorious,
A nose whose greatnes is notorious,
All moderne noses this nose farre out goes,
A handfull brode, why tis monstrous for a nose.
Mirosos comming to a tauerne neere,
In gallant tearmes began to curse and sweare,
This roguish house, what the poxe brought me hither,
What are these rogues and whores gone altogether:
Tis a maingie house, here gentlemen may starue,
Whilst knaues and drabs are playing that should serue:
Anone saies one, may it please your worship dine,
My leasure is (you slaue) to drinke some wine.
What smell is this? faugh, here is a filthy fogge,
A shaking roome, able to choke a dogge:
Such durty towels, rude cushions, rotten stooles,
Plague on such Beggar-masters, and men fooles.
A quart of Ipocras fresh, neat, and pure,
Now by my bl [...]de, I shall be angrie sure:
The boy with humble flexure doth decline,
And [...]dging to the Celler downe for wine,
Meane while Miroso's gone, and wot you why?
[...]oxe take the Beaker, must he stand so nie.
I Haue a loue by whom the morning rise
Lookes still to haue her blushing glory tainted,
Were they not bleard, O shee had excellent eies▪
The world affoards a face no better painted:
A lippe like to Diana, her fountaines brincke,
Heauens for a breath, O that it did not stincke.
Didst thou but see with what facilitie
Shee winnes a louer with an amorous looke,
Thou'dst consecrate to all eternitie
Her famous name, within some brasen booke.
Lightning of Nature, beauties amazing thunder,
The rogue doth smile, t'would make your worshippe wonder.
Compared to her priceles-valued minde,
Perfections richest jewell is but poore,
One cannot wish a wench to be more kind,
Mistake me not for a Pandor, her a whore:
For if you doe, you wrong vs not a little,
You may know we are honest, cause we liue at Spittle.
MY Ladie's sicke, no earthly thing can cure her,
Shee lookes so grimme, no creature can endure her,
O fetch no Doctors, t'were but idle cost,
Her boxe, pomatum, life, and all, are lost.
SEeke not to comfort me, my wife is dead,
Gush forth salt tears, drown euery sence with weeping,
Last night I was so troubled in my bedde,
That for my life, I could not wake for sleeping:
Nor can I stand for leaping, weepe for wincking,
Nor hardly eate a bit of bread for drinking.
Thus in most pittious manner haue I liu'd,
This too too tedious time, two daies with my maid,
Neuer like me was any creature grieu'd,
Ere since her death, for very woe I haue plaid:
No maruell, for I could not worke for sweating,
Nor could the egges be butterd ere I was eating.
Yet now at last, it's time, it's time, adue,
Liue (loued soule) for euer in sweet blisse:
When the old is gone, t'is time to seeke a new,
I loue thee deerely (Besse) aye by this kisse;
The match is made, and here's an end of sorrow,
Wee'l lie together to night, marrie to morrowe.
HEr nicenesse pleasure is to walke,
Roome there for Madam Minx,
O fie vpon this bawdie talke,
Now faugh, by gisse it stinkes.
Why will you not giue place (sir knaue)
He'l not attend your fables,
Shee loues not to heare of, nor to haue
Such fowle euill fauour'd bables.
O touch her not, for Dian's sake,
Shee's Venus chiefest scorner,
The place you greatly doe mistake,
I hope this is no corner.
One snatcht her keyes that sate her neere,
Because the chaine was gawdie,
And put them I'le not tell you where,
Because t is somwhat bawdie.
Polluted things, touch not her rings,
Your stinking heat shee'l coole:
For fingers twaine, scarce toucht the chaine,
And carri'd them to a poole,
Where till shee had bestowed great store
Of washing the defiled,
Shee to her keyes a crowne before,
Could not haue reconciled:
But happiest men crosses endure,
When Fate her might aduances,
Nor puritanisme is secure.
From greatest of mischances.
For within a month, and twenty daies,
This Minx surnam'd the Milde,
Did make the fowler of her keyes,
The father of a childe.
SCud coward valour, flie my tempestuous ire
And the turbouse tumbling of my whirlewinde fury,
So raging spleene, belke out thy sparkling fire,
My hands are iudges, and my sword's the Iury:
None scapes with lesse, that dares approch my sight,
Than condemnation to eternall night.
The extreame torture of his fatall houre,
Attends the villaine that's next obuious,
Stretch out my legs, Ile walke fiue mile an houre,
Soft, now I know, what makes me so outragious:
Knew I who would trust me, I'de goe ease my minde,
I am hudge and hungrie cause I haue not din'd.
MOngst liquids, R. and L. surpasse the rest,
Of consonants, S. X. were, and are best.
O Harke my Mistresse comes, where shall I hide me
Her ratling silkes prognosticate shee'l chide me.
This peeuish dreaming whore, where is she mising?
That doth so well attend me whilst I am rising,
No cussion for my feete, no chaire to sit in,
Nor any bason set (forsooth) to spit in,
A haire lay on my stockinges, doe you ginne to crie?
Nay more (you queane) my buske-points stood awry,
My shooes an inch asunder, with no sockes in,
My kirtle wrinckled bigge as any pinne,
Pox on your fingers, are they growne so nise,
My girdle trust me, was as cold as ise,
Whether runne you (sirrogue) what are you blind?
I hold my life, my munkey hath not dinde:
Come, dood a, dood a, this villaine must be beaten,
This silly worme no bit to day hath eaten,
O God is this a life? iudge (Gentlemen)
A Gentleumans Monkey fast till ten,
With that vnto the trembling boy she skips,
And set's her signet seales vpon his lips,
And also with the maide shee kindly dealde,
Who could not passe in law till shee was sealde,
Admire the rising of this curious charmer,
Her father is so poore a countrie farmer,
That in my conscience t'would content his mind,
To eate the scrappes her munkey leaues behind,
Farmer? (poore man) ay, and with care obserues
To farme the stable as occasion serues
GEorge hath a wife which for his dagger cares not,
Cause she dares fight when Georges dagger dares not:
For when he fell at strawes, and leapt ore stockes,
Coursing the can vntil he had catcht a foxe;
She with her nailes examinde so the matter,
That he was faine to draw his dagger at her,
But yet poore Nouerint conquerde by the cup,
Being soundly bangde he sheathde his dagger vp.
MIssa will needsly marry with a foole.
her reason;
O sir, because he hath an exlent—
peace, treason:
And reasons moe, the maid doth show,
of perfect approbation,
Witnes my eare that heard her sweare,
it was the Ladies fashion.
An other reason that doth moue her take him,
I will vnfould,
Because (forsooth) she doth intend to make him
a—
Your nicest dames, that dwell by Thames,
of fooles are nothing scorning:
For the veriest clowne in all the towne,
will best endure the horning.
TOm had a peny but he had no purse,
Tom then a purse esteemb'd, a peny worse,
Tom grew in choler, and gan sweare and curse,
Tom sould his peny and did buy a purse,
Tom was a foole, because in summes disburse,
Toms peny is more currant then his purse.
TOm waxed thirsty, and went to his brother
His purse and belly emptie each as other:
His brother kept an honest alehouse neare,
Sould exlent bottle ale and double beare,
When Tom came there he merily gan fawne,
And for a pot would put his purse to pawne,
To sell for purses his brother had not any,
Tom might haue had a pot now for his peny.
O Tom was wise, pence haue too speedy vent,
Tom hath his purse, his peny had beene spent,
And now if any peny Tom can winne,
Tom hath a purse to put his peny in,
But now let Tom his purse and peny rest,
Tom's good, his purse is better, his peny's best.
COme (gossippe) sit and talke, looke there's a stoole
Ile tell you a wonder, Prudence is a foole,
Will wooes, nay woode her, did, nay would (to be short)
For hee askt, she answearde no, and lost the sport,
He askt againe (O willing wretch) she would not
But strait she wilde, he nilde, she would, he could not.
LOoke (Ladies) here's a face, for Gods sake turne you,
Pack hēce ( [...]hacht houses) or good faith twil burn you
So set with carbuncle, ruby and pearle,
T'might well beseeme the wearing of an earle,
A nose touching his mouth (which euer gapes)
Which crusht yeeldes liquor like a bunch of grapes,
A chinne as free from beard as any dogge,
Saue stubbes more hard then brisles of a hogge:
And yet thereof the owner is so nise,
No weeke escapes it without shauing twise,
O cry you mercy, now the cause I haue learnde
He feares lest by his nose, it should be burnde,
Why say it should, the course were not so deare,
T'would saue him forty shillinges euery yeare,
Ay, but therein another danger lies,
His burning beard might burne out both his eyes.
And that's the cause his shauing course is such,
Such scuruy faces must they cost so much.
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
A Monied foole, is like a woman witty,
Neither of either knowing the right vse
Should no dies rise, wantons grow wise? t'were pitty,
If one, of one, if both t'weare both's abuse,
He would be miserable of his money,
Shee prodigall of wit, if she had any,
He like a sw [...]et perfume in stinking shrowde,
Shee like one Sunne-shine added to another,
Hee'd be too slauish base, shee too too proud,
The flame would burne her's out, the smoake his smother
But this conuersion seemes to me the boniest.
Let him be wise and rich, she onely honest.
FLaminio's chinne scornes euery cut but bare,
And yet his head scornes nought, saue onely haire.
TI's merry when gossips sit vpon a bench,
To talke of risting Robbin and his wench,
Of faire Philip and of Besse the browne,
And euery Ducke and Broodgoose in the towne,
My henne, saieth one, each weeke seuen egges doth lay,
What's that? quoth another, mine laies two euery day,
The third complaines, she broke her hatchil handels,
The fourth hatt the Ouen, the fift made candels,
The sixt beganne to sneuill, snore and sneese,
The seuenth on fryday made a morninges cheese,
By this; confused babling all doth smother,
The lyes are lost, one cannot heare another,
Strait all fall out, bout fathering of a fart,
They rise, and scold, and scrach, and so depart.
A Countrie fellow courser cloth'd then witted,
A foolish Lawyer wisely thus hee fitted;
Good sir (quoth he) are you necessitie,
The Lawyer was amasde exceedingly,
And askte him why necessitie? (sir Daw)
Forsooth (quoth he) because you haue no law.
SVsinne's all mettle, onely aire and fire,
A wench as merry as one would desire.
She'l looke, she'l laugh, she'l dance, she'l play, she'l sing,
She'l clippe, she'l kisse, nay she'l doe any thing,
With any one at cardes she'l haue a say,
And laugh and lie downe, is her common play
She playes at tables wel, and true as any,
Onely sometimes she'l beare a man too many:
At bowles she beates your cheefest alley-lubbers,
Alwaies prouided that they hold out rubbers;
Nay, if you'l nocke the shafte, she'l shoote at prickes,
She's nothing else but mirth and meretrix.
RObbin doth rise, and forth must needesly goe,
Onely to speake but with a friend, or so,
But Robbin's wit in wetting's euer shrunke,
For Robbin neare comes home, but Robbin's drunke.
WIll you not pledge me sir? now by this light,
I care not of a bul rush if I fight:
Nay now my resolution naught withstands,
Horror and blood attend my murdrous hands:
Intreats are vaine, for when I once am willing,
The world cannot disswade my blade from killing.
He draw'd, and winckt, and thrust and shak't, & swore,
And kept him off his rapiers length and more;
Well plaid in faith, masse that had spoild your sport,
Had it not beene at least a yard too short.
Bullie, put vp, I see thou art a man,
Come Tom, by Christ, Ile giue thee halfe a Canne.
O Face, no face, hath our Theophiles,
But the right forme of Mephostophiles:
I know t'would serue, and yet I am no wizard,
To playe the Diuel in'th Vault without a vizard;
(Nature) be it spoke to thy eternall grace,
That a man hath mettle euen in's very face.
NIcke weares three noses in an vnion,
Each richly died with skarlet of the best:
Nichol [...]s refused the Communion,
Because the parson praied not for his smel-feast:
He onely praied for triple-nosed Nicke,
Now Nicke was well, but's nose was hugely sicke.
Nicke plaies at tables well; but O his noses!
For with his eies, the worme-eate slaues play bootie:
His lucke in casting's good; yet still he loses:
How can he choose, when's things are so vnsutie?
For his fellow gamster makes his sincke a sice,
Whilst he remooues his nose to see the dice.
THe great dispencer of small conscience,
Hath made his niggard-name most richly knowne,
His money-thirsting soule, that conscious ens
Is sure the diuels, though his coyne's his owne:
How doth that chuile abuse his pyles of pelfe,
That worse then any diuell damnes himselfe.
Reply not (Chance) though I call thee incestuous whore,
Bringing forth golden bastards to thy sonne,
To him that hath too much, still giuing more,
And yet his auarice hath neuer done.
You must be pleas'd with what I said before,
For our sir Iohn can prooue you are a whore.
Doe you see yon Munkie in the silken hat,
His cloake of veluet, and his Ierkin leather,
May't please your worship heare the coxcombe chat,
And see him draw his mouth and eies together:
So impudently bold, that none can feare him,
And sweares and lies, t'would doe you good to heare him.
He hath left his reformation now of lockes,
How thinke you then his liuing doth come in?
Why he mends the burning feauer, cures the poxe,
And gets his liuing by the peoples sinne:
Good his head hath, and Rich his heele doth craue,
Rich if you will, but good? in troth he's a knaue.
IF he's no slaue, that to all vice is thrall,
Begges ierkins, hats, hose, dublets, the diuell and all:
And of no man of Note, but still doth craue;
Why then praedictus Mounsieur is no slaue.
FOrbeare (impure) staine not her thought cleare name,
The saint's deuoted to the Queene of shame:
Most beastly-wicked, man packe speedy hence,
O God, come hether with vnchast pretence,
Wrinckle (alluring face) eies, wanton, nise,
Come, come, ile scrach you out, must you entise?
Strait to her maid the gallant doth deliuer
A satten gowne, which he had bought to giue her,
Which she espying, thus endes her churlish frowne;
Busse me (Ducke) sweet, who'd haue thought, thou hadst had a gown?
CRambde be the guts of begger slaues with mutton,
And greasie licking of the dripping panne:
I care not for such grosse meates of a button,
Giue me a Capon. Zoundes a man's a man:
Must Gallants stand like pusse-cats crying mew?
Drink (villains) why ground, I hope you wil look blue
Attend vs (rogues) Vintner, bring heer your wife
And shift her, (sirra) in her satten gowne,
What is thy Ordinary? now by Pharoes life,
Ile leaue it, if't be vnder halfe a crowne.
Ti's but two shillinges: O extreame disgrace,
He scornes to suppe, when suppers grow so base.
VVHat ailes (my Fisco), prethee (chucke) be merry,
Thy sadnes makes my sorow passe all boundes:
Come Busse thy Mistresse, is my puppy weary?
Some Aquavitae quickly Fisco soundes,
I faint with griefe, O beare me to my bed,
The paragon of fisting dogs is dead.
Then to an Epitaph my selfe ile taske,
And thus in brasen letters be it written,
Fisco loude butter, and did die of'th laske,
For such a prety dogge, O death too shitten,
Now all you mourning curres in griefe perseuere,
That Fiscoes fifting may be famous euer.
BIfronted Peter's head, growne bigge with wife,
Yet a loues her whoreshippe as he loues his life,
Ay, (Peter) winke at small faultes for thy wench
Hath a pocky sort of crownes, all onely French.
VVHat giue ten pound for counsell? giue a straw,
Do you think ther's any so basely-low prisd law?
Well, yet ile take it, and somewhat I will doe,
But t'will not be aboue a word or two,
So foule a case as this hath neuer past,
Nay, I am as sure as can be, you'l be cast:
With that the discontented Client frownes,
And makes a rusling consort mongst his crownes,
The which no sooner (laugh not) Conscience heares,
But presently the case is changde, he sweares,
Pardon me (sir) I did mistake the course,
Assure your selfe, the land is firmely yours.
I Know Ann Hill, and yet it is not mons,
Both springde, and bridgde, with neither sons nor pons:
This Hill hath a wil, O strange, a Hill a will!
Nor fons, pons, mons, yet spring, bridge, yea Ann Hill,
Ay, (Hill) leaue thy will, or else (wil) leaue thy Hill,
For Will with Hill, or Hil with Will, doth ill.
RIchard and Robert with intent to gull them,
Borrowed of Will and Wat a hundred pound,
But marke how finely Will and Wat did pull them:
For Wat was wit, and Will was wily found:
They said themselues had not to ease their sorrow,
but if they'd bring a pawne, they would it borrow.
They pawnde a lease of threescore poundes a yeare,
Thinking to get it backe againe by craft,
For not long after, both come backe and sweare,
They are in sute of law, and needes must haue't.
For if it be not showne within three howres,
Tis lost (quoth they) and then nor yours nor ours.
Wat laught at this, and Wil or rather wile,
With doubled Negatiues their cunning crost,
They walkt away in choller, and meane while
The time of pay was past, the lease was lost.
Thus were these crowes guld by the other dawes,
But fallere fallentes non est fraus.
OBserue the ponderous sense of euery word:
And looke you heer's a face for any Lord:
Doest see this beard? I tell thee (groome) each haire,
Then Prester Iohn his crowne, I prize more deare,
Note but my carriage, thou seest I am most valiant,
Then iudge if I am not a perfect gallant:
He learnde coniunction when he went to schoole,
For wordes, face, beard, behauiour, al's but foole.
MAt grewe of late most miserable poore,
But of his vncle he was sure of helpe,
And comming to his house, knockt at the doore,
But marke the currish nature of this whelpe:
He knew him not, nor bade him once come in,
Knowing torne breeches could not be his kinne.
But neuer-alwaies-bad-imperious fortune
Rais'd his deserts soone from thridbare to braue,
When loe, this worme-eate Churle, seemes to importune
The lou'd acquaintance of his Cuzze to haue:
VVhat incantation this prowd world bewitches,
VVhen men are lesse esteemb'd, then veluet breeches.
MIca is turnd religious: why? he fasteth
Long as his pennilesse religion lasteth.
A poxe take Pierce, for since his Supplication,
Poore Mica's purse was nere in reparation:
Goe fagget, how sir? a seminarie Priest,
VVhy I haue not any crosse about me, seest?
VVhich croslesse crosse, made Mica's case so cleare,
And therefore faire fall nothing once a yeare.
VVHat's he that walkes with such a stately grace,
And puts downe any Coach-horse for a pace:
With a hat as long, and sharpe, as the Dutch steeple,
Able to feare ten groates worth of poore people:
Who his mustachoes so ascendent weares,
They seeme to whisper rebellion in his eares:
VVith a nose, in circuit like a new chang'd moone,
And for a face, puts downe your best Baboone.
VVith rapier by his side, halfe a yard more
Than would measure Prick-markes off at halfe a score?
VVhy doe you aske? cause I may say to you,
I heard one sweare, that fellow was neuer true:
Hee'l make a match to day, and firmely speake it,
Nay sweare, to morrow, forsweare, the third day break it.
Nay more; he said he was tyranys chiefe iewell,
No Turke, no Pagan, no wild Boare so cruell:
He was naught, nay worse, he neuer meanes to mend;
Hee'd gull, deceiue, nay more, hee'd rob his friend:
To say what country man he is, t'is hard,
It is indeed: for I thinke he is no—
WHo'd thinke yon gallant by the boy attended
Did lie a bed, mean while his hose were mended?
Or that they liu'd hid in a hiue like Bees,
Onely with barley bread, and Bridgenorth cheese?
Yet shall you heare him, and his boy protest,
That Beefe and Mutton's but a skuruie feast:
He skornes to feed at night, on goose, or ducke,
Yet (Fortune) I perceiue that you haue stucke
Vpon his wittie nap, your wealthy burre,
For in wit, he's farre; and yet in wealth, he's fur.
MY mistresse loftines, who i'th light doth marke,
Thinkes not shee'd be so lowly in the darke,
There (prostrate wretch) doue-like, deuoid of gaull,
How long so ere the wrong, shee puts vp all.
Yet (Wat) your iealousie with you plaies bootie,
When you come home, I hope she doe's her dutie.
To clip, and coll, and kisse, shee neuer misses,
What? cannot husbands be content with kisses?
Fasingo hath a backe, ist possible?
Aye, and a bellie, but as vnsociable
As any backe, and belly you shall finde,
For's backe goes braue, marry his bellie's pin'd:
His backe weares silke,
His belly scornes milke,
Because he cannot get it:
But if he can robbe
A Herring of a cobbe,
You'd blesse you to see him eate it.
Fasingo hath another tricke well noted,
No Pilchers head escapes him, though vnbloted:
But he cares not much for marmelet or gelly,
But if a cheese will find parings, he'l find bellie.
When any he seeth,
Hee'l picke his teeth,
As he sits at his dore:
VVhen he hath not eate,
One bit of meat,
In three daies space before.
MY Mistresse goes each day in her Scotch hat,
Yet sets me downe to supper with a sprat,
And walkes her selfe meane while about the hall,
To see I eate both head, and taile and all,
My swaggering stomacke brooks head, taile, skin & bone
Whip sayes my mouth, and then the sprat is gone,
Then learnedly my Mistresse gins to chat,
The wondrous vertues of a bloted sprat,
First how it fils, next how it doth restore
One from a hundred sicknesses and more,
But in my throat I scorne this phisicke diet,
Nor can my belly keepe my guts in quiet,
Which she perceiuing gins to scold outright,
Bids giue me the other sprat, and choke me quite,
VVhen loe, my teeth as quicke as any cats,
Soone make two simple fellowes of the sprats,
I thinke you'l neere haue supt (quoth she) sir gull,
I rise, she saies, I hope you are farting full,
Ti's true, with aire, therein we both accord,
But to preserue, I do beseech the Lord,
Tom Weningtons blue breeches from the rats,
And me, and all good men, from supping with sprats.
AN honest Vicker, a wisard or a witch
A Chimney-sweeper, Tom Tinker and his bitch.
Met altogether at a tipling house,
To trie each other's valour at carouse,
Sir Iohn did reason, the witch did also well,
Chimny-sweepe better, the Tincker did excell,
And surely Tom had quickly got the best,
But that his bitch past him, and all the rest,
They wondred much at Tom, but at Tib more,
Faith (quoth the Vicker) ti's an exlent whore,
Chimny-sweepe and the Tincker fell to fighting,
Kicking grew in vse, with pinching, scratching & biting,
The witch and the bitch fell out, and gan to brawle:
Sir Iohn spoke latine enough to choke them all,
And neare leaues off vntill the fray he ends,
Cals for the other pot, then all are friends;
And then a fresh they fall againe to swill:
But the Chimny-sweeper takes Tobacco still,
Doe you aske why? O his Commission's large,
For he may sweep his nose himselfe, and saue that charge
And presently the Tincker gins to sucke it,
Till he makes his chappes as blacke as any bucket,
O then let Gentlemen leaue off to thinke on't:
When Tinkers and such rascall slaues do drink on't.
ZAy (Zisse) canst fancy? then prethe constant proue,
For in conscience I am beastly deepe in loue:
I be sworne those frownes will make me to abhorre thee,
Come, if thou't haue me, heer's a pinne-purse for thee,
Ah Rostemeat (Sisse), I am sure to me thy marriage,
Would be as good or better then plumme-porrage,
Sure thou't be plag'y sweet to him shal trie thee,
I know no butfer-milke will ere come nie thee,
And furthermore Sisse comes so neare to souse,
That I could almost eate my blacke-bricht mouse,
And I mongst youthes haue euer bore the bell,
Thou seest my heeles be whole, and all things well,
My head and beard (as rusty bacon) yellow,
Nay I am sure an extreame admirable fellow,
Sisse laught and let a fart, there loue was showne:
And runne away, iudge, is not shee his owne.
TIm speaketh common, what's proper to a king,
Calling for's doublet, he bids our doublet bring,
VVhy ours you'l aske? O (sir) he hath good reason,
That our's as cleare (as he of shift) from treason:
For he and's brother, freti simplicibus,
Wear'th sute, and'th shirt, alternis vicibus.
WHy (Will) art thou my brother? then giue mee a thūp
Come bezle to me, let's be drunk in pomp:
Let the Iackes grone, the Iugges be all confounded,
The Cruzes crusht, Cans crackt, Pitchers expounded:
The blacke pots pincht, bowles bang'd, cups canoniz'd,
The fawsets fir'd, the spiggots anatomiz'd:
Now noses twang, guts grone, (Will) throw thy cloake off
Who'd die infamous, neuer to be spoke of?
Shal's hawle the house by'th heeles out at the dores,
You, hostesse, bawd, come; where be all your whores?
O rise not spleene, by'th Lord I am offended,
VVhat cannot dubbed drunkards be attended?
That's skuruie ale, this sweete, the other sower,
I haue drunke a barrell better within this hower.
Rouse off thy tipple (Will) be not afraid,
They drinke, they stincke, hose, roome, and all's beraid.
Thus Peter Potus euery morning praies,
Diuellish, pray God not damned are his daies.
VS, ours, all, the world, the flesh, the diuell,
With wealth, lust, craft, allures, deceiues, orecomes,
Fathers, sonnes, both, none can escape that euill,
Which by transgression from olde Adam comes:
Yet grace, adoption, faith, pure, holy, ciuill,
VVithstands, deludes, orecomes, world, flesh, & diuell.
YOu horrid sinnes, that heauen hath named deadly,
Cease to suggest the wretched soules of men:
You that of all the world haue made a medly,
Yet now at last sleepe in your hellish denne:
If not, yet be vnited; be seauen no more,
For seauen are one, one worse than seauen; a whore.

Epillogus.

HEre haue you read, if harsh, not triuiall sport,
T'was briefe, if bad, the time you lost was short:
And yet because it was the Authors first,
Say t'is but naught, although it be the worst.

Reader, some faults (by reason of my absence) escaped by the Printer: I intreat you, if you will, to excuse; if not, cor­rect: the first, if kind; you may: the second, if curious; you must: and easily. If it bee in the ende of the verse, by comparing the meeter: if else where, the sence.

FINIS.

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