Sportive vvit the muses merriment, a new spring of lusty drollery, joviall fancies, and a la mode lamponnes, on some heroic persons of these late times, never before exposed to the publick view / collected for the publick good by a club of sparkling wits, viz. C.J., B.J., L.M., W.T., cum multis alsis---- This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A54795 of text R36677 in the English Short Title Catalog (Wing P2113). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 222 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 111 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2017 A54795 Wing P2113 ESTC R36677 15869376 ocm 15869376 104656 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A54795) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 104656) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1154:19) Sportive vvit the muses merriment, a new spring of lusty drollery, joviall fancies, and a la mode lamponnes, on some heroic persons of these late times, never before exposed to the publick view / collected for the publick good by a club of sparkling wits, viz. C.J., B.J., L.M., W.T., cum multis alsis---- Phillips, John, 1631-1706. [22], 132 p. Printed for Nath. Brook ..., London : 1656. Attributed by Wing to John Phillips. Preface signed: J.P. Reproduction of original in the Huntington Library. eng A54795 R36677 (Wing P2113). civilwar no Sportive vvit: the muses merriment. A new spring of lusty drollery, joviall fancies, and a la mode lamponnes, on some heroic persons of thes Phillips, John 1656 36946 361 0 0 0 0 0 98 D The rate of 98 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the D category of texts with between 35 and 100 defects per 10,000 words. 2002-09 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2002-10 SPi Global Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2002-11 John Latta Sampled and proofread 2002-11 John Latta Text and markup reviewed and edited 2002-12 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion SPORTIVE VVIT : THE MUSES MERRIMENT . A NEW SPRING OF Lusty Drollery , Ioviall Fancies , AND A la mode Lamponnes , On some Heroick persons of these late Times , Never before exposed to the publick view . Collected for the Publick good , by a Club of sparkling Wits , viz. C. I. B. I. L. M. W. T. Cum multis aliis — . Semel in anno ridet Apollo . LONDON , Printed for Nath : Brook , to be sold at the Angel in Cornhill , and at the New Exchange and other places . 1656. TO THE TRVLY NOBLE , RALPH BANKS , Esq. Honoured Sir , WHen I resolv'd to addresse these Curiosities to your self , there was nothing which more emboldned me than your owne Ingenuity and worth , which I speak not after the common strain of Epistles Dedicatory , but in confirmation of a Truth well knowne to many . As for the Book it self , I may give it this character , that is containes Fancies as happy as the Muses could infuse into the choicest of our English Wits , and so order'd , as not to distast the most serious , yet to be as blithe and merry as youth it self could expect . And therefore if you are pleased to look favourably on it , and to bid it welcome , I doubt not but it will live securely under your name , not a little to the honour of him , who desires to profess himself , SIR , Your most obedient Servant . J. P. To the Reader . Jovial Readers , BY your leave room for such Wit as your Friends and sparkling Canary presents you with : you have it from persons who entertained no serious thoughts , or notions at that time . 'T is sufficient , that this small volume hath been before a lawfull Iudicature : and certainly it cannot but be the better thought of , in regard it hath been too severely dealt withall ; for Gold , though it be the richest production of the Sun , is very often expos'd to the Touch-stone . Such a triall have every one of these Copies endur'd . And believe it Reader , it hath passed the Verdict of a Grand Iury : The truth is , there formerly came forth a Book intituled Wit and Drollery , which contained so many refined Fancies , that had not this appeared , it might ( for things of that nature ) have given a full satisfaction to the curious . But since we have made so noble and so large a discovery , I hope , Reader , thou wilt not be angry that we have not been Concealers , and Hoarders of our wealth . For to deale plainly with thee , Reader , the publishers had no designes beyond thy pleasure , their owne reputation , and the continuation of their sprightly Club . Onely be pleased , courteou● Reader , to understand , that some friends of Sir John Mennis , and D. J. S. have already taken notice , how these worthy persons are likely to suffer by Copies , to which their names are shortly to be affixed : Papers onely to be protested against ; and indeed those who knew those Gentlemen , can assure the Reader , that hitherto they never allowed of the publishing of their Copies , nor will ever descend so much from their own prerogative , as to own those which they never wrote . Neither have we such a dearth of other Wits , there are other ingenuous persons in our little World of Britain , more youthfull , as familiar and joviall with the Muses as ever they were , and such as when they please to be right Drollers , can be as little in love as they , such as are resolved never to study Romances , or to be guilty of the false praises of women . You may meet with severall Pamphlets , Reader , but consider whether they be not rak'd from the simple collections of Short hand prentices . Of these surreptitious Editions there is no end ; and if such trifles are allowed , we shall see Ballads inserted shortly , to as much dishonour of our English Wit , as if Don's Poems were turned into Dutch . The onely misfortune , as when meere Rimers , and such like pittifull Gleaners of the scraps of Wit , shall , like Marsyas , pretend to play with Apollo . Ingenuous Reader , this volume is exposed to thy cleare censure ; onely take notice , if you can finde out a Christian , and Sirname by the letters in the Title , as they are placed , you will do little lesse than devine . These particulars I had order to acquaint you with from the Club of Wits , Remaining , Your unfeigned friend in NECTAR . The Dunners Dance . 1. WIll you hear the mode of France , To stop the mouthes of all that dun you ? Onely lead them in a dance , Though you be behinde in money . 2. If your Creditor do call To pay for diet , wine , or rayment ; In your dance keep time withal , But forget it in your payment . 3. If your Taylor chance to strike you With his Bill that stays no leasure ; Pay him with a dance , he 'll like you , And in stead of coyn , take measure . 4. If your Shoo-maker come on , Turn your measure , quickly lead it ; Let that everlasting Dun See his own Boots nimbly tread it . 5. If your Lawyer seek you out For Fees for this advice or t' other ; Make him dance , for all his Gout , And pay one Motion with another . 6. But if your Landlady do want , You needs must satisfie her pleasure : She despiseth your Corant ; She 'll be paid in standing measure . 7. Thus we do despise all care , And thus we skip through all disasters ; That all the world cannot declare , But we are nimble quick day-masters . A CATCH . 1. THe Black Jack , the merry Black Jack , As it is toss'd on high-a ; Grows , Flows , Till at last they fall to blows , And makes their noddles cry-a . 2. The Brown Bowl , the merry Brown Bowl , As it goes round about-a , Fill Still , Let the world say what it will ; And drink your drink all out-a . 3. The Deep Can , the merry Deep Can , As thou dost freely quaff-a ; Sing , Fling ; Be as merry as a King , And sound a lusty Laugh-a . The Bulls feather . IT chanc'd not long ago , as I was walking , An eccho did bring me to where two were talking : 'T was a man said to his wife , Die had I rather , Then to be cornuted , and wear the Bulls feather . Then presently she reply'd , Sweet , art thou jealous ? Thou canst not play Vulcan before I play Venus : Thy f●ncies are foolish , such follies to gather : There 's many an honest man has worn the Bulls feather . Though it be invisible , let no man it scorn , Though it be a new feather made of an old horn : He that disdains it in heart or minde either , May be the more subject to wear the Bulls feather . He that lives discontent , or in despair , And feareth false measure , because his wife 's fair : His thoughts are inconstant , much like winter-weather Though one or two want it ▪ he shall have a feather . Bulls feathers are common as Ergo in Schools , And onely contemned by those that are ●ools : Why should a Bulls feather cause any unrest , Since neighbours fare always is counted the best ? Those women fairest , are likely'st to give it ; And husbands that have them , are apt to believe it . Some men though their wives should seem for to tedder , They would play the kinde neighbour , and give the Bulls feather . Why should we repine that our wives are so kinde , Since we that are husbands , are of the same minde ? Shall we give them feathers , and think to go free ? Believe it , believe it , that hardly will be . For he that disdains my Bulls feather to day , May light of a Lass that will play him foul play . There 's ne'er a proud Gallant that treads on Cows leather , But he may be cornuted , and wear the Bulls feather . Though Beer of that brewing I never did drink , Yet be not displeas'd if I speak what I think : Scarce ten in a hundred , believe it , believe it , But either they 'll have it , or else they will give it . Then let me advise all those that do pine , For fear that false Jealousie shorten their time ; That disease will torment them worse then any Fever : Then let all be contented , and wear the Bulls feather . Close-Stool and Chamber-pot chuse out a Doctor . A Lampoun . 1. LAdies all , glad ye ; here comes Doctor Paddy , So good at a woman's Glyster : Whatere be her grief , he 'll give her relief , If once he have but kist her . 2. And kiss her he might ; for he was a Knight , And a valiant man at Arms : He never drew blood , but for the parties good ; And then he was paid for his harms . 3. But Doctor Foster is but an impostor , For all his exceeding great pains : And Doctor Poe , the world doth know , Is best for the running o' th'Reins . 4. And Doctor Turner full many a mourner By Chymistry hath made : He first kills the man , and then treads the hen : Oh this is an excellent trade ! 5. Yet Doctor Davis the very'st knave is Of all that ever did practice : And the Bull of the town , in the Taffata-gown ; Whose name I take to be Atkis . 6. And Doctor Langford , although I hang for 't , I 'll have a sling at your Jacket : Though you ride in a Cart , for your Bridewel-desert , Yet your hand is in each womans placket . 7. For Doctor Mumfort , to your great comfort , For ought that ever I heard ▪ You are an honest man , as a Physician can , For one that hath a red beard . A SONG . 1. Come , Sweet , and draw the Curtain round , That we may meet where pleasures do abound ; Come , throw thine arms about me , And I will embrace thee , O thou Myrrour of delight . 2. Oh it bubbles in my veins , Casteth forth such a froth Worth thy beauties and thy pains ; Where none shall see but mee , None shall feel but thee : Leave off whining , Let 's be sw — Sweet , agree , agree . 3. See how th' inviting Balm bedews Her belly white , that like to iv'ry shews , Oh , I cannot hold ; I must and will be bold : Kiss then , and put out the light , 4. Oh it comes , it comes amain Up this lane to my brain , And distilleth down again : Fix it there , and let it be Almost a Tympany . Leave thy whining ; Night 's declining : Sweet , agree , agree . A SONG . LOve , I must tell thee , I 'll no longer be A Victim to thy beardless deity : Nor shall this heart of mine ▪ now 't is return'd , Be offer'd at thy shrine ▪ nor at thine altar burn . Love , like R●ligion 's made an airy name , To awe those souls whom want of wit m●kes tame : There 's no such thing as Quiver , Shaft , or Bow ; Nor does Love wound , but we imagine so : Or if it does perplex and grieve the minde , 'T is the poor masc'line sex ; women no sorrow finde : 'T is not our parts or persons that can move 'em Nor is 't mens worth , but wealth , makes women love 'em . Reason , not Love , henceforth shall be my guide : Our fellow creatures sha'nt be deifi'd . I 'll now a rebel be , and so pull down The Distaff-Hierarchy , or females fancy'd Crown . In these unbridled times , who would not strive To free his neck from all prerogative ? Cartwright's Song of Dalliance ; Never printed before . Heark , my Flora ; Love doth call us To that strife that must befal us : He has rob'd his mothers Myrtles , And hath pull'd her downy Turtles . See , our genial posts are crown'd , And our beds like billows rise ; Softer combat 's nowhere found , And who loses , wins the prize . Let not dark nor shadows fright thee ; Thy limbs of lus●re they will light thee : Fear not any can surprise us , Love himself doth now disguise us . From thy waste thy girdle throw : Night and darkness both dwell here : Words or actions who can know , Where there 's neither eye nor ear ? Shew thy bosome , and then hide it ▪ License touching , and then chid● it : Give a grant , and then forbear it : Offer something , and forswear it : Ask where all our shame is gone ; Call us wicked wanton men : Do as Turtles , kiss and groan ; Say , We ne'er shall meet again . I can hear thee curse , yet chase thee ; Drink thy tears , yet still embrace thee ▪ Easie riches is no treasure : She that 's willing , spoils the pleasure . Love bids learn the restless fight , Pull and struggle whilst ye twine● Let me use my force to night , The next corquest shall be thine . NARCISSVS . A Song . 1. AS I was walking I cannot tell how , Nor I cannot tell whither nor where ; I met with a crew of I cannot tell who , Nor I cannot tell what they were : But Virgins I think ; for they cry'd , Narcissus , come kiss us , and love us beside . 2. They sung a fine Song , of I cannot tell what , Nor whether in Verse or Prose : Nor knew I the meaning , although they all sate Even as it were under my nose . But ever and anon they cry'd , Narcissus , come kiss us , and love us beside . 3. There came in a Lad from I cannot tell whence , With I cannot tell what in his hand : It was a live thing that had little sense ; But yet it could lustily stand . Then louder the Ladies they cry'd , Narcissus , come kiss us , and love us beside . 4. Some shak'd it , some stroak'd it , some kiss'd it , 't is said , It look'd so lovely indeed : All hug'd it as honey , and none were afraid , Because of their bodily need . And louder these Ladies they cry'd , Narcissus , come kiss us , and love us beside . 5. At length he did put in this pretty fine Toy In I cannot tell where below ; Into one of the Ladies , but I cannot tell why Nor wherefore it should be so . But in the mean time they all cry'd , Narcissus , come kiss us , and love us beside . 6. But when these Ladies had sported all night , And rifl'd Dame Nature's store ; And tired themselves in Venus delight , That they could hardly do more : Yet louder these Ladies they cry'd , Narcissus , come kiss us , and love us beside . 7. This Lad being tired , began to retreat , And hung down his head like a flower●● The Ladies the more did desire the seat , But alas 't was out of his power . Then louder and louder they cry'd , Narcissus , come kiss us , and love us beside . 8. I then did return I cannot tell how , Nor what was in my minde : Nor what else I heard , I know not , I vow , Nor saw I : for Cupid is blinde : But that these Ladies still cry'd , Narcissus , come kiss us , and love us beside . A SPEECH . You may suppose he hath made his leg , and then he speaks . TO you , grave Speakers , and the rest beside , Grace from above , and peace be multiplide . What do you lack ? Petitions we have brought One worth the notice , plentifully frought With Characters of understanding hands , Whose Consciences are all at your commands . What though some could not write ? yet I dare promise They 've made a G. for Iohn , an L. for Thomas . As for my self , their Fore-man , and their Speaker , I would not now be taken for a Sneaker . If I my place and dignity may rent , I Am one of th' honourable four and twenty . 'T is known , I stroak my beard , and wear my gown So understandingly , that all the Town Admire my gravity : and here 's my brother W — for all the world just such another : But he , I fear , did long since change his name , Because there is a Bishop wears the same . That Antichristian Calling 't is that grieves us , From whom we beg your goodness to relieve us : For since these are the great Abomination Of Frogs and Locusts in the Revelation , Sound each of these , you 'll finde a Pope in 's belly , As plain as you may smell a T. from Jelly . This — Cause hath made us raise an Army Of Supplicants , whose troops I hope will charm ye To yeeld your helps ; and 't is a pious work , To bring the English to the Scotish Kirk . Or now , or never , lend your aids , to twist Out of their throats these Imps of Antichrist . It glads my heart , to think our sage advice Hath stickled first , to break this holy Ice . Observe as well the Leaders , as Retinue ; And if you have or wit or judgement in you , You can conceive no less , but that the Prelats Must have a knock from us true Scotish Zealots . For my particular , the chief combiner , I am , if 't please your Worships , the Refiner ; And hope you 'll not condemn me for a Widgeon , Who took upon me to refine Religion . My brother Alderman he trades in Drugs , And can assure you that there 's Romish B●gs Trick'd up in Rockets : and such odde devices Smell very strongly of Italian spices . Ghess at our troops , when we that go before um May for our understandings be o' th' Quorum . The first that march i' th' Vanguard of Complainers Are Shoo-makers , stil'd otherwise Cordwainers ; Who albeit but of indiff'rent fashion , Yet sure they 're men of upright conversation : May they have liberty , they 'll tell you plain , They hold the Bishops Papishes in grain . There 's ne'er a man in all this zealous bunch , But fain would have their Lordships feel his punch● However matters heretofore have past , They hope Religion will tread right at last . The next Subscribers to this learn'd Epistle , Though low , yet , they are yeomen of the Bristle , Coblers inspir'd , a crew that daily mends , And hope ▪ ere long , to bring about their ends : They 'll have ( nor will their zeal one ace be ' bated ) The Prelats underlaid , or else translated . Next the report proclaim them all deceivers , We have a band of honest-handed Weavers : Nor can you deem them Shuttle-headed fellows , Who for the Law are so exceeding zealous : They from the bottom of their hearts defie The massie Beams that blinde the Churches eye . And those whom you see standing three and three , Go strait at heart , though bending at the knee ; They 're Jaylors all , who swear 't is not their pleasure The Church should be tormented with hard measures Their knuckles shew you what a mighty Itch They have to gather up the Clergie stitch . I need not tell you who these are that follow ; The nose informs you that they smell of tallow : And Chandlers though they be , they 're quick enough To take such foul indignities in snuff : They pray that ere the — be ended , The blinking Lights o' th' Church may be amended ; And they may Cotton so , that they in peace Henceforth on Holy-days may melt their greace : And that you 'll nimble be , they do not doubt it , Nor cast away too many weeks about it . Please you to v●ew these following partakers , The sundry dozens of our two-eat'd Bake●s ; ' Mo●gst whom are some that never sprung from Jolt-head , Who swear 't is sit the — should be new bolted : Though some sift catalogues and mouldy Rouls I' th' Prelates cause , they 're but unleven'd souls , Whose weal●h & state ( the crust must ne'er be spared ) But by Authority be clipt and pared . These Rolles you see stick here like sutty sinners , Next on the paper are sharp-pointed Pinners : They 're prickt at heart , that some new bold & dreadless , Are not , like their cast wa●e , bow'd & made headless . Those joyn'd to t●ese , in this so pious labour , You may behold a candid Troop of Haber - Dashers , who just as wise as all the rest , Do humbly crave the — may be new drest ; And trust to see the Prelates , those proud limbs Of Antichrist , cut narrower in the brims . In brief , the very Porters and the Dray-men Affirm that all will ne'er be well , till Lay-men Be joyn'd to th' — . Nay more , the Broom-men see some Necessity of a Reforming Beesome , To sweep — house . The Comb-men they determine The Teeth of Justice must scratch out this Vermine . Here 's fifteen hundred hands , a goodly number ; Which we could double , but we 're loth to cumber Our selves with all these Tinkers , Tanne●s Cu●●iers , Upholsters Sadlers , Cutlers B●●bers Furriers , Fishmongers , Painters , Fullers ▪ Dyets Soap men , Perfumers Blacksmiths , Turners ▪ Botchers Roap-men And millions more of such good souls , all last week Attended on old Burton , Prynne and Bastwick . Our Suit 's so reasonable and just , we kn●w You 'll quickly yeeld , and never say us no . First , down with — an ungodly Fry ▪ You may at leasure yeeld the reason why . Then fall upon Cathedrals , and their Deans , That honest Courtiers may increase their means . The feat once done , you 'll see the minor Clergie Soon forc'd with ease to sing ● doleful D●rg●e . Great Livings are not fit for men o' th' Letter ; To w●ild si●e pretty Pensions would be b●●ter . The way of Truth 's all one ; nor can we learn More ●●ofit in a — than in a Barn : And far more fruitfully do we receive it From some well-tutor'd twenty Nobl'd Levit Shall mounted on a stool demurely utter Smoothe pleasing do●●rine , smoothe as oil or bu●●es , Then if some rough-hewn fellow not behold●ng To our benevolence , shall fall a scolding I' th' open streets , and saucily inveigh 'Gainst crimes which are familiar in our way , And such as we may wink at for our profit , Nor is it fit that they should tell us of it : There 's proper liberty indeed : much fitter I Conceive Geneva's reverent Presbytery ; When some of us , whom they may think — builders , Shall rule the roast , and be appointed Elders : And then if busie fellows be so idle To talk their wills , we 'll help them to a bridle . On Tobacco . 1. WHen I do smoak my nose with a pipe of Tobacco after a feast , Then down let I my hose , and with paper do wipe mine — like a beast . It so doth please my minde , It doth so ●ase behinde , For to wipe , For to wipe my ●ewel . Tobacco 's my delight , So 't is mine to sh — Oh fine smack , Oh brave ●ack my jewel . 2. Tobacco onely can draw the vapours down from my troubled brain ; And from the bashful Pan vapours rise 'twixt my thighs to my nose again . Five Pipes I have devour'd , Five Pans I have deflowr'd full of fume , Full of fume down flurting ; And yet I would have more , And yet I have great store . 3. Tobacco is a dish for an Earl , for a Lord , for a Knight , for a Squire : Than shiting who can wish greater , if you please , or occasion require ? Tobacco 's a fine thing , But shiting 's for a King ; for the brains , For the pains of the belly . Tobacco who despise ? Then shiting who denies ? None , I think ; Though I stink , I tell ye . 4. When I puff it through my nose , I do make Fly such flakes , I do mock the clouds : When my arse to close-stool goes , mark how I rap thunder-claps aloud . My smoak doth dark the sun , My raps out-roar a gun : Oh that fart , how it rattles ! This Pipe more I 'll pull , This Pan I 'll shite more full : So good-night , We will shite out the battle . 5. My nose , mine arse , doth blew , doth throw Firy puffs , counter-buff , from my jaw : My nose , mine arse or doth blow , or doth throw Firy puffs , counter-buffs from my maw . My nose hath made an end , Mine arse and he are friends : He 'll not j●st ; He 'll be kist , but in spite not : My ●ose will no more puff ▪ Mine arse hath shit enough : Give ' , some drink , we shall P●nk , if we wipe not . A Lampoun . HEre 's a Health to good Queen Mary , we 'll have it ere we part ; And to King Charles her husband ; I 'll pledg't with all my heart . Here 's a Health to my Lady Mary , for whom I 'll spend my heart ; And to the Prince her brother , and to the Duke of York . Here 's a Health to my Lady Dutchess , that loves red hair so well ; And to my Lord her husband , that made her belly swell . Here 's a Health to my Lady Dorset , that rules the Royal twig ; And to my Lord her husband , and his great Periwig . Here 's a Health to my Lady Caernarvan , that 's a pearl in each mans eye ; And to my Lord her husband , that can both swear and lye . Here 's a Health to my Lady Rich , that looks so like a Witch ; And to my Lord her husband , that can't endure the switch . Here 's a Health to my Lady Kent , that hath a bounsing C — ▪ And to my Lord her husband . that tickl'd my Lady Hunt. Here 's a Health to my Lady of Newport , that can both sing and dance ; And to my Lord her husband , that 's run away to France . Here 's a Health to my Lady Denby , as sweet as Sugar-candy ; And to my Lord her husband , that little Jack-a-dandy , Here 's a Health to my Lady Wimbleton , but fifteen years of age ; And to my Lord her husband , that 's jealous of his Page . Here 's a Health to my Lady Holland , of all women the best ; And to my Lord her husband , that goes so neatly drest . Here 's a Health to my Lady Goring , whose — lies a cooling ; And to my Lord her husband , that got his means by fooling . Here 's a Health to my Lady Pembrook , And so I 'll end my Song ; And to my Lord her husband , that never did man wrong . On a precise Woman . ONe came to Court a wench ; she was precise , And by the spirit did the flesh despise : One mov'd a secret Match betwixt them two ; But she in sooth and sadness would not do . He did reply , So sweet and fair as she , Made of the stuff all other women be , Ought by the law of woman to be kinde , And shew her self to bear a woman's minde . Well , Sir , quoth she , you men do so prevail , With cunning speeches , and a pleasant tale : 'T is but a folly to be over-nice : You shall ; but twenty shillings is my price : If you a brace of Angels will bestow , Come such a time , and I am for you . So He took leave then , and with her husband met ; Told him , by Law he was to pay a debt , Intreating him to do so good a deed As lend him twenty shillings at his need . Which very readily he did extend ; And th' other willing on his wife to spend , So taking leave of him , he went his ways , Meeting his Creditor within few days , And told him , Sir , I was at home to pay The twenty shillings which you lent last day ; And with your wife , because you were not there , I left it : pray you with my boldness bear . 'T is well , quoth he , I 'm glad I did you pleasure . So coming home , questions his wife at leasure : I pray , Sweet-heart , was such a man with thee , To pay two Angels which he had of me ? She blush'd , and said he had been there indeed : But you did ill to lend : husband , take heed ; It is not good to trust before you try . Pray lend no more : for it may breed some strife , To have such knaves come home to pay your wife . The Drunkard's Song . WHen I go to revel in the night . The Brewers dogs my brains do bite ; My head is too heavie , and my heels are too light : And I like my humour well , well ; And I like my humour well . With ipse he I line my head ; My Hostess 's Cellar is my bed . The world 's our own when the devil 's dead : And I like my humour well , well , &c. Then I fall to talking of the Court , Or about the taking of some Fort ; And I swear a lye for a true report : And I like my humour well , well , &c , Now from the Wars I came I swear How I made a fellow die for fear ; How many I kill'd , that I ne'er came near : And I like my humour well , well , &c. If my Hostess bids me pay the Score , I 'll stand if I can , and call her Whore ; Or stumble and reel out of the door : And I like my humour well , well ▪ &c. The cape of my Cloak hangs all a one side ; My hat band 's lost ▪ and my hose are untide ; My heels on the ground begin for to slide : And I like my humour well , well , &c. Then justle with every post I meet ; I kick the dunghills about the street ; I trample the kennels under my feet ▪ And I like my humour well , well &c. The Constable then I curse and ban : He bids me stand , if I be a man ; And I tell him he bids me do more then I can : And I like my humour well , well , &c. If I fall to the ground , the Watch-men see ; They ask me if I foxed be : I tell them 't is my humility : And I like my humour well , well , &c. If I chance to justle with a Taylors stall , My nose to the ground doth catch a fall : We kiss and be friends , and so we part all : And I like my humour well , well , &c. When I come home , my wife will scold ; It is my patience makes her bold ; She 'll rail the more , if I bid her hold : And I like my humour well , well , &c. When I go to bed , I lose my way , Forgetting where my cloathes I lay : I call for drink , before it is day : And I like my humour well , well ; And I like my humour well . A Shepherd fallen in love . A Pastoral SONG : With the Answer . CLoris , since thou art fled away , Amyntas sheep are gone astray , And all the joys he took to see His pretty Lambkins follow thee , They 're gone , they 're gone ; and he alway Sings nothing now , but Well-a-day , well-a●day . Th' embroyder'd Scrip he us'd to wear , Neglected lies , so doth his hair : His Crook broke , his Dog howling lies , While he laments with woful cries , Oh Cloris , Cloris , I decay , And forced am to cry , Well-a-day , well-a-day . His Oaten Pipe whereon he plays So oft to his sweet Roundelays , Is flung away , and not a Swain Dares sing or pipe within his plain : 'T is death for any one to say One word to him , but Well-a-day , well-a-day . The way wherein her dainty feet In even measure us'd to meet , Is broken down ; and no content Came neer Amyntas since she went : For all that ere I heard him say , Was Cloris , Cloris , well-a-day , well-a-day . On the ground whereon she us'd to tread , He ever since hath laid his head ; Still breathing forch such pining woes , Tha● not one blade of grass there grows . Ah Cloris , Cloris , come away , And hear Amyntas well-a-day , well-a-day . The Answer . Cloris , since thou art gone astray , Amyntas Shepherd 's fled away ; And all the joys he wont to spye I' th' pretty babies of thine eye , Are gone ; and she hath nought to say , But who can help what will away , will away ? The Green on which it was her chance To have her hand first in a dance , Among the merry Maiden-crue , Now making her nought but sigh and ruo The time she ere had cause to say Ah , who can help what will away , will away ? The Lawn with which she wont to deck And circle in her whiter neck ; Her Apron lies behinde the door ; The strings wo'nt reach now as before : Which makes her oft cry well-a-day : But who can help what will away ? He often swore that he would leave me , Ere of my heart he could bereave me : But when the Signe was in the tail He knew poor Maiden flesh was frail ; And laughs now I have nought to say , But who can help what will away ? But let the blame upon me lie ; I had no heart him to denie : Had I another Maidenhead , I 'd lose it ere I went to bed : For what can all the world more say , Than who can help what will away ? A Lampoun . HEav'ns bless King Iames our joy , And Charles his Baby ; Great George , our brave Vice-roy , And his fair Lady ; Old Bedlam Buckingham , And her Lady-keeper : She looks well to Huckingham , He 's the — sweeper . These are they bear the sway In Court and City ; And yet few do them love , The greater 's the pity . The young Lady Marchioness , And Lady Fielding : Kate for her worth heav'ns bless , Sue for her yielding . Ned Villers hath a wife , And she 's a good one : Butler leads an ill life , Yet she 's o' th' blood one ▪ These are they bear the sway In Court and Citie ; And yet grace in each place , Else were it pitie . Cranfield , I 'll make a vow , He 'll not be partial : Nan was us'd you know how , By the Earl Mar●ial . The Horn of Honour , fool , She hath exalted . Tell no tales out of School , Lest thou be palted . These are they bear the sway And keep the money ; Which he may better do , Than his wife's — Old Abbot Anthony Thinks he hath well done , In leaving Sodomy , To marry Sheldon . She hath a buttock plump , Keep but thy T — whole : She will hold up the rump With her black A — hole . These are they bear the sway In Court and City ; Yet next Spring he will sing The Cuckolds ditty . Young Viscount Fielding too He 's a good-fellow : Yet mad Tom Compton's blue Nose looketh yellow . Will : has a better way ; He can endure all : What need Tom care a straw ? Lincoln can cure all . These are they bear the sway , And are most busie : They will sup all the cup , Till their brain 's dizzie . Young Compton might have had Wives by the dozen ; Yet the fond fool was mad For George's cozen . Maxwel swore by his saul , He 's not be hindred : They get the Dee'l and all , That swive the kindred . These are they bear the sway All this Isle over : There is no greater fool Then the fond lover . Kit was almost forgot ; Damport had hid him : They two were at the pot , Whilst Ray o'er-rid him : For all his elbow stood Butchin with Sherry , Crying thus : Bleed good blood : Hang wives ; be merry . These are they spend the day In drink and swiving : Gentle Kit , learn more wit , then go a wiving . The Minstrel was an ass , And liv'd by scraping : His lustie kindred was Not worth the japing : And now in number sure They can't come near us , We are so chaste and pure , Hell need not fear us . These are they bear the sway Of Court and City ; And yet few love them , though Greater 's the pity . Hark how the Waggons crack With their rich lading : Doll comes home with her pack ; She 's fit for trading . Phil will no longer stay With her bare baby : What will the people say , When she 's a Lady ? These are they must away ; Who dares deny it ? Will you an Office get , Thus you must come by it . A SONG . CVpid , Cupid , makes men stupid ; I 'll no more of such boys play : I delight to sport all night , and then to change my love next day . Read the story of Iove's glory , how the wanton gods above Caus'd more wonder than is thunder , with their often change of love . Custom covers constant Lovers with a false pretended praise : Dido di'd in height of pride : then farewel Dido and her Bays . Mortal eyes are not so wise ; the gods have made mens hearts more faint : One denying causeth dying : is not Love a gallant Saint ? Maids be so wise , and so precise , as not to stand still at a stay ; But let it go , the thing you know , and do not stay what will away . Ralph Sleigh . The Song of the Caps . THe Wit hath long beholding been Unto the Cap , to keep it in : Let now the Wit flie out amain , With praise to quit the Cap again . The Cap that owns the highest part , Obtain'd that place by due desert : For any Cap , whatere it be , Is still the Signe of some Degree . The Cap doth stand , each man can show , Above a Crown , but Kings below : The Cap is neerer heav'n than we ; A greater signe of Majestie : When off the Cap we chance to take , Both head and feet obeysance make . For any Cap , &c. The Monmouth-cap , the Saylors Thrum , And th●t wherein the Saylors come : The Physi●k Law , the Cap divine , The same that crowns the Muses nine : The cap that Fools do countenance ; The goodly cap of Maintenance : And any Cap , &c. The Sickly cap , both plain and wrought ; The Fudling cap , however brought : The quilted , furr'd ; the Velvet Sattin . For which so many pates learn Latin ; The Crewel-cap , the Fustian pate , The Periwig , a cap of late : And any Cap , &c. The Souldiers that the Monmouth wear , On Castle-tops their Ensignes rear : The Saylors with their thrum do stand O● higher place than all the land : The Trades-man's cap aloft is born , By ' vantage of ( some say ) a horn . Thus any Cap , &c. The Physick's cap to dust may bring , Without control , the greatest King : The Lawyers cap hath heav'nly might , To make a crooked cause aright ; Which being round and endless , knows To make as endless any cause . Thus any Cap , &c. Both East and West , and North and South , Where ere the Gospel findes a mouth , The Cap divine doth th●ther look , The Square like Scholars and their book : The rest are round , but this is square , To shew that they more stable are ▪ Thus any Cap , &c. The Motley man a cap doth wear , That makes him fellow for a Peer : And 't is no slender part of wit , To act a Fool where great men sit : But Oh the cap of London-town , I wis 't is like the Gyants crown . Thus any Cap , &c. The Sick-man's cap , not wrought with silk , Is like repentant , white as milk . When hats in Church drop off in haste , This cap ne'er leaves the head uncas't . The Sick-mans cap , if wrought , can tell , Though he be ill , his state is well . Thus any Cap , &c. The Fudling cap , God Bacchus might , Turns night to day , and day to night : Yet Spe●ders it prefers to more , By seeing double all their store . The furr'd and quilted cap of age ▪ Can make a mouldy Proverb sage . Thus any Cap , &c. Though Fustian caps be slender wear , The head is of no better gear : The Crewel cap is knit like hose , For them whose zeal takes cold i' th' nose ; Whose purity doth judge it meet To clothe alike both head and feet . This Cap would fain , but cannot be The onely Cap of no Degree . The Sattin and the Velvet hive , Unto a Bishoprick doth drive : Nay , when a File of caps you 're seen in , A square cap this , and then a linen : This treble cap may raise some hope If fortune smile , to be a Pope . Thus any Cap , &c. The Periwig , Oh that declares The rise of flesh , though loss of hairs : And none but Graduats can proceed In sin so far , till this they need . Before the Prince none cover'd are , But those that to themselves go bare . This Cap , of all the Caps that be Is now the Signe of high degree . A Fancie . WHen mortal beauties sheath their radiant light , Masking their glory in the clouds of night : When Phoebus tumbles into Thetis lap , After his traveling to take a nap ; Then dares each little star open an eye , And peep into the world familiarly , Which in the lustre of the lightsome day , Doth stand eclips'd by a more splendid ray : For where the freshest fashion is in place , The rest look slovenly , and lose their grace : So where a richer Fortune hath a suit , Vertue and Merit may and must stand mute . A SONG . T Is not my Ladies face that makes me love her , Though beauty there doth rest , Enough t' enflame the brest Of those that never did discover The glories of that face before : But I that have seen many more , See nought in her , but what in others are ; Onely because I think she 's fair , she 's fair . 'T is not her vertues , nor those vast perfections Which croud together in her ▪ Engage my heart to win her : For those are onely brief collections Of what 's in man in folio writ , Which by their imitating wit , VVomen like apes and children strive to do : But we that have the substance , flight the show . 'T is not her birth ▪ her friends , nor yet her treasure , My free-born soul can hold : For chains are chains , though gold ; Nor do I court her for my pleasure , Nor for that old mortality , Do I love her 'cause she loves me : For that 's but onely gratitude ; and all Loves that from Fortune rise , with Fortune fall . If either birth or friends created love withi● me , Then Princes I 'd adore , And onely scorn the poor : If vertues or good parts could win me ▪ I 'd turn Platonick , and ne'er vex My soul with difference of sex . And he that loves his Lady 'cause she 's fair , Delights his eye : so loves himself , not her . Wit and Discretion are to Love High-treason : Nor doth he truely love , Whose flames are not above , And far beyond his wit and reason . Then ask no reason for my fires ; They 're infinite , like my desires : Something there is makes me to love ; and I Do know I love , but know not how or why . A Medly . I Prethee sweet Rose pull up thy cloaths , And let me see thy — Fortune my foe , why didst thou frown on — Green sleeves and Pudding-pies , And wot you not where — The Cripple of Cornwal surnam'd was : He slept under an old hollow — Barnaby where hast thou been ? Drunk ore-night , and dry again , in the days of Old Simon the King , With a thred-bare coat , and a Malmsey nose , Sing , Heigh — For a lusty lively lad , Heigh for a lad lacks kissing ; Heigh for a lad that 's seldom sad : But when he 's dead , and laid in his grave , The passengers by will say , There was — A jovial Turk dwelt in the town of Turvey ; And he could tune a kettle well , but his humour was scurvy : Still did he cry , Tara tink , tara tink boys ; Room for Cuckolds here comes — As pretty a Nymph as I have seen ; Her age was not above fifteen : For grief of heart complained she , I slept not since the Conquest . A SONG . When Phoebus first did Daphne love , And could no way her fancy move ; He crav'd the cause . The cause , quoth she , Is , I have vow'd Virginity . Then Phoebus raging , swore , and said , 'Bove fifteen none should die a maid . If maidens then perchance are sped ▪ Ere they can scarcely dress their head ; Yet pardon them , for they are loath To make Apollo break his oath : And better 't is a childe were born , Than that a god should be forsworn . Yet silly they , when all is done , Complain , our wits their hearts have won ; When 't is for fear that they should be With Daphne turn'd into a tree : And who would so her self abuse , To be a tree , if she could ch●se ? A Lampoun . 1. THimble 's wife is fair , Wherefore he vows to sting her ; And ever when they toy , she cries , Oh Thimble , you wring my finger . 2. Moor 's wife is chaste , Which makes all men to wonder : The reason is , that Moor himself Doth always keep her under . 3. Bell 's wife is good metal , Besides , she 's very dapper : And when the peal is rung , she cries , O Bell , how fares your clapper ? 4. Lichfield's wife is lustful , And given to excess , Because she is a Printers wife , And loves to be in Press . 5. Crosse 's wi●e is ugly ; Besides , she 's very common : Which makes him to lament , No cross is like a woman . 6. Hack's wife is unknown , Because he lives unwed ; Yet hath work enough to saw the horns He gets on Herbert's head . A Charm . SLeep , old man ; let silence charm thee : Dreaming slumbers overtake thee : Quiet thoughts and darkness arm thee : Let no creaking door awake thee . Phoebus hath put out his light , All his shadows closing : Phoebe lends her horns to night , To thy heads disposing . Let no fatal Bell nor Clock Pierce the hollow of thine ear : Tongueless be the early Cock , Or what else may make a fear . Let no Rat nor silly Mouse Along these benches rushing ; No● a Cough disturb this house , Till Aurora 's blushing . Come , my sweet Corinna , come ; Laugh , and leave thy late deploring : Sable midnight makes all dumb , But thy jealous husbands snoring . And with thy sweet perfumed kisses Entertain a stranger : Love , delight , and swee●●st bliss is Got with greatest danger . The Mercury . COme buy my new Almanacks every one . And take the choice before they are gone , One thousand six hundred fourty one : Come buy my new Almanacks , new . The Puritan hath got his lock ▪ Babylon's Whore's stript of her smock , And you may see what 't is a clock : Come buy , &c. The Spring will windy be , and blow ; Autumn full of hail and snow : Such storms as these you ne'er did know . Come buy , &c. The Sun we finde Eclips'd will be , By S. by M. by P. and by G. Such distempers as these you ne'er did see : Come buy , &c. The Moon also will have another , By Mars , or by some such — brother : Heav'ns bless the one , and blast the other ▪ Come buy , &c. Be 't he or she , be 't hic or haec ; He that hath had a — check ; Let him beware● the sign 's i' th' neck . Come buy , &c. Time will give , that you shall see , All will be ferk'd that learned be , Or ne'er trust my Astrologie . Come buy , &c. The Planets do begin to jar Amongst themselves , that fixed are : Mercury proves the falling star . Come buy , &c. This Summer will be hot and dry ; Men will faint , fall down , and die : You may know how , but never why . Come buy . &c. Pick out the best of all my store : He that writ this , ne'er writ before ; And if this fell not , he 'll never write more . Come buy , &c. The Tub-Preacher . WIth face and fashion to be known ; With eyes all white , and many a groan ; With neck awry , and drawing tone ; With harp in 's nose , or he is none : 'T is a new teacher about the town , Oh the town , the towns new teacher . With coz'ning cough , and hollow cheek , To get new gatherings every week ; With paltry text as man can speak ; With some small Hebrew , and no Greek : To finde out words , when stuff 's to seek : 'T is a new , &c. With hair cut shorter than the brow ; With little Ruff starch'd you know how ; With cloak , like Paul ; no coat ▪ I trow : With Surplice none , till lately now : With hands to thump , no knees to bow : 'T is a new , &c. With Shopboard-breeding and intrusion ; With some outlandish institution ; With Systems Method for confusion , With Vrsin's Catechism to curse on , With strong-laid groans for meer illusion . 'T is a new , &c. With threats of absolute damnation , With certainty of some salvation To his own Tribe , not every Nation ; And with some Use of Consolation . 'T is a new , &c. With troops expecting him at the door , To hear a Sermon , and no more ; And with new sighs of them great store , And with great Bibles to turn ore , Whilst he writes Notes upon the score : 'T is a new , &c. With flesh-provision for the Lent , With sheets of Sweet-meats oft-times spent , Which young maids brought , old Ladies sent , Yet of this Legacie sure event . 'T is a new ▪ &c. VVith new-wrought caps against the Canon , For catching cold , tho' sure he ha' none , And with new Pulpit-cloth to lean on , And with new hour , when glass is run on , New points , new notes , new nought to stand on . 'T is a new , &c. The Impartial Doom . BLinde Fortune , if thou wantst a guide , I 'll tell thee how thou may'st divide , And distribute to each their due : Justice is blinde , as well as you . To th' Usurer this doom impart : Ma● 's Scrivener break , and then his heart : May's debters into Begg'ry fall , Or what 's as bad , turn Courtiers all . To Trades-men that do sell too dear , A long Vacation all the year : Revenge us thus on their deceits , And send 'em wives light as their weights . But Fortune , how wilt thou recompence The French-mens daily insolence ? For them I know no greater pain , Then to be sent to France again . L●st the Players should grow poor , Send them Aglaura's more and more ; And to the Puritan more ears Then Ceres in her Garland wears . The Physicians if thou please , Send them another new Disease : To Scholars give , if thou canst do 't , A Benefice without a Suit. To Court Lords grant Monopoly ; But to their wives , Community : So Fortune thou shalt please them all , If Lords do rise , and Ladies fall . To the Lawyers I beseech As much for silence as for speech : To Ladies Ushers , strength of back ▪ And to my self , a cup of Sack . The Cuckold's Pedigree . WHat 's a Cuckold , learn of me ; I can tell his Pedigree , And his subtil nature conster : He lives a man , yet dies a monster . Yet old Antiquaries say , He 's sprung from old Methusala . Who after Noah's flood was found To have his head with branches crown'd . God in Eden's happie shade , Never such a creature made . Then to be sure , and without all mistaking . Cuckolds , Cuckolds , Cuckolds are of womens making . The Curse . THou who the native stink t' expel Of thy — bely'st the smell ; Before the rank and luscious steam VVho pre●er'st — the sweet extream , VVith Essences Civet , Musk be●mear'd ; Mayst thou be wholesom , and yet sear'd ▪ Hot as the Dog-days mayst thou burn , Yet none so mad to serve thy turn : Not a French-man in the Citie , Not a Stallion left to fit ye : Not a D●ldo in the town , Though thou 'dst pawn thy self to th' Gown For the Prodigie that can To thy lust supply a man . Perpetual frosts in thy hands dwell , In thy — perpetual hell : To frig thy self be all on fire , Yet want the pow'r to that desire . That another may not do VVhat thy self 's disabled to ; Be all thy acquaintance cold as North , When Pisee● frost dispenseth forth . Now to adde unto thy Curse , Hear and have what is far worse : Free from the act , have a repute Of a most noted prostitute ; Though thou art honest 'gainst thy will : All pleasures want , but not one ill . P — on those false — give me Lesbia 's commoditie ; Hers , your nose will half way meet , Putting down Fish quite , or Thames-street : Fulsom as a Tanners pit ; No Red-Herring smell● like it . Sents that come from the Exchange , As unpleasant are , as strange . Whose — 's perfum'd , 't is none of hers , But her dapper Milleners . Encomium of Tobacco . TObacco 's a Musician , And in a Pipe delighteth : It descends in a close , Through the organ of the nose , With a rellish that inviteth . This makes me sing , So-ho-ho , so-ho-ho boys , Ho boys sound I loudly : Earth ne'er did breed such a Iovial weed , Whereof to boast so proudly . Tobacco is a Lawyer ; His Pipes do love long Cases : When our brains it enters , Our feet do make Indentures , Which we seal with stamping paces . This makes ▪ &c. Tobacco 's a Physitian , Good both for sound and sickly : 'T is a hot Perfume ▪ That expell● cold Rheum , And makes it flow down quickly . This makes , &c. Tobacco is a traveller , Come from the Indies hither ; It pass'd sea and land Ere it came to my hand , And scap'd the winde and weather . This makes , &c. Tobacco is a Critick , That still old paper turneth ; Whose labour and care Is as smoak in the air , That ascends from a rag when it burneth . This makes , &c. Tobacco 's an Ignis fatuus , A fat and firy vapour , That leads men about , Till the fire be out , Consuming like a taper , This makes , &c. Tobacco is a Whiffler , And cries , Huff , snuff , with fury : His Pipes , his Club and Link , And Vizor too , when he doth drink : Thus arm'd , I fear not a Jury . This makes , &c. A SONG . STay , shut the gate ; T'other quart since 't is not so late As your thinking : The stars that you see In the Hemisphere be , Are the studs in your cheeks By your drinking . The Sun 's gone to tipple all night in the Sea , boys ; To morrow he 'll blush that he 's paler then we boys : Give us wine , give him water ; 't is Sack makes us the boys . Fill up the Glass ; To the next merry lad let it pass ▪ Come away w' it : Come set foot to foot , And give your mindes to 't ; Th' are heretical Sixes That slay wit . No Helicon like to the juyce of the wine is : For Phoebus had never had wit nor divineness , Had his face not been budded as thine is and mine is . Drink off your Bowls , We 'll enrich both our heads and our souls With Canary . A Carbuncle face Saves a tedious race : For the Indies about Us we carry . Then hang up good faces ; let 's drink till our noses Give freedom to speak what our fancie disposes , Beneath whose protection now under the Rose is . This must go round : D'off your caps , till the pavement be crown'd With your Beavers . A Red-coated face Frights a Serjeant and his Mace , And a Constable trembles To shivers . In state march our faces like those of the Quorum , When the whores do fall , and the vulgar adore um , And their noses like Link-boys run shining before um Call honest Will ; Hang a long and tedious Bill : It disgraces Those Rubies that appear : You safely may swear The reckoning 's right By our faces . Let the Bar-boys go sleep & the Drawer leav roaring ; Our looks can account without them , had we more in , When each pimple that rises will save a quart scoring . Against Demur in Marriage . PRethee friend leave off thy fooling , And at last resolve to do VVhat Loves pleasures never cooling , Love and beauty prompt thee to . Venus cares not for good-will , But would have thee doing still . Do but view that maid of Mettle ▪ How the rose smiles on her cheek ; The flow'r 's derended by the n●ttle , And the rose deserves a pri●k . Crop it then before it wither : Youth and Love decay together . Call thy spirits up , and make her Great as ever she can hold : Leave her quite , or quickly take her ; Be thou either hot or cold . Love and Religion both agree , Luke-warm 's as bad as he or she . Delays in drinking spoil good Claret ; Demurs make sick the maidenhead : Sipping either doth but mar it ; Neither pleaseth , if once dead . Take her then ; no longer dally : Worse then death is Shally , shally . Courage , man , to 't ; touch and take her : Maids by hopes are oft beguil'd : Dallying , big will hardly make her ; Kisses never got a childe . Take her then and leave thy wooing : Meaning 's not so good as doing . A SONG . THere was a Country-lass , An Amazon by stature ; She sate upon the grass To do the deeds of Nature With her A — . Her back and knee she bow'd , Making most hideous faces : Her guts do croak aloud , And for to ease their cases She hard did croud . Now mark ye what fell out , A strange deformed creature , Twelve inches round about , And of a nut-brown feature , W'th a snout . About this T — there stuck Many a broken plum , All fritter'd with a fart Which came out of her bum , And made it smart . It seem'd unto mine eye As if the composition Had been Rost-Beef and Pie ; Which made the disposition Hot and dry . The water that she made , It caused such a swidge ; That no man could invade The t — without a bridge , Or else must wade . An Answer to Full fourty times over . HE is a fond lover that doateth on scorn , VVho Fortune's neglects hath patiently born : He 's proud of abuses , if ere he return To prove a fond Lover ; His wit he 'll discover , By striving to win A fort , where old forces neglected have bin . For when a fort we defend from the foe , VVe traytors imprison ; they ne'er come below ▪ And her fort is defended by answering , No . If that will not do it , Disdain added to it , Your weapon will fall ; Although you approach , you 'll not enter at all . They are Lady-birds sure , these lovers intend , VVhich cannot with wit such a fortress defend , VVhilst Hectors their Squibs and their Crackers do spend ; And vainly come after , To conquer with laughter : For she hath no wit , That spends all her fire in the smoak to be hit . Where a fort hath no strength but such as is made By pride and by state , such a foe may invade ; For these are defences for those of the trade . You men are so witty , Works guard not our city , But forces within , With which we maintain 't , tho the out-works you win . These warriors at last with our weapons will fight ; And if we are 〈◊〉 they 'll come in the night : But alas they 're denied , our vertues are bright : For she that loves honour , No parley ere won her To yield up her pow'r , For a few slatt'ring words , and the sport of an hour . A Catch . I Met with Ioan of Kent ; I laid her on the bed , And there I got her maidenhead , And she was well content . The Cloak 's ANSWER to the Poet's FAREWEL . MAster , if I may do you no wrong , Since we have been companions so long , Let 's not now part : can friends love too long ? I was your friend in Thirty , though ; But now , how proud you Poets grow : Was 't so in Noah's days ? Ah no! For they in times far pas'd from hence , With oaken leaves their backs did fence ; Which made them love that tree ere since . As for the Muses , I wo'nt flatter . They to their breeches ne'er had tatter ; Which made them always live i' th' water . But you that have a cloak to hide What want makes them shew , why d'ye chide ? Troth 't is a strange forgetful pride . Sir , you do tax me of a high fault ; But if I 'm thredbare , is that my fault ? No , Sir ; for I will prove 't was thy fault . First , you me laid in bed full close , Sir ; But Coverlid was so short , you know , Sir , You scratch'd my wool off with your toes , Sir . VVhen you , poor son of Polyhimnie , Drank muddy ale in durty chimnie , Your Landlady she spoke full grim nie : Come , Sir , your Cloak , or I 'll arrest ye : Then quoth I , VVoman , are you so testy ? Here , take me off : and so relas'd ye . But now , for lightness you would fain Divorce me , and a new one gain , High heav'n knows how : but 't is in vain . Poor men must wear poor cloaks , you know : The Devil told the Collier so , VVhen he said , Like to like will go . My thinness makes you fear the Box , VVhere durty maid with Flint-stone knocks : But Master , have not you the Pox ? For Deianira , that Gilflurt , Gave Ioves son such a devilish hurt , As burnt not onely him , but 's shirt . She got it from the Centaur Nessus ▪ It was a cruel burn , God bless us : Alas poor Cloak , how that would dress us ! What if I 'm thin , you need not jeer , Sir : You know when Serjeant cries , D' ye hear , Sir ? A thin cloak you may quickly tear , Sir . Then was not he a Iohn-an-oak VVho open'd his mouth when that he spoke , And made a Love-back of your cloak ? Some call'd me Fiction , though but few did : I think the men were mad or stupid ▪ Or else they were as blinde as Cupid . Yet we read of one had such a thin shroud In heav'n ( me● were not then so proud ) That Poets said he was wrapt in a cloud . This Heroe he was hight Ixion ; Perhaps he had no money to buy one : Yet ventur'd he Ioves bed to lie on . For he in thredbare cloak lov'd Iuno , And Iuno him for ought that you know ; Though I confess I care not to know . Though I am on , you do protest You walk in Cuerpo when y' are drest : Master , that 's but a thredbare jest . Then a brother in zeal came with his ditty : But if he were hang'd , 't were no great pity : For how a devil came he so witty ? For Scholar that talked of Arachne , Alas his brains were lean as hackney : The poor man spoke when there was no Sack nigh . For him that took me for a Cobweb , ( This verse wants rhyme , though not the next ) I would the knave were in Mount Horeb. Thus as poor cloaks they jeering sit , The name of Taylors would them fit , Because 't is but a Pricklouse-wit . The Clerks in Blackwel-Hall , in brief , With sculls of Sar●cens eat Beef : Master , doth this provoke your grief ? Will you , to have a pendent haunch , Or a greasie prominent paunch , Basely forsake the Olive-branch ? Once more together let 's agree : Master , these are best times for me : Thin cloaks are naught for knavery . Now O that some good mortal would Make me an Epitaph as well as he could ; Verily , verily , I thank him would . On hedge now I hang ▪ the more 's the pity That one did make my Master so witty : His wits are gone into the city ; As he doth say , more wool to borrow : Perhaps he 'll have it to day or tomorrow ; Perhaps he wo'nt , the more 's his sorrow . Master , adieu , poorer then Condi ; Your bare breech , Sir , may want me one day : Sic transit , transit , gloria mundi . The Clowns Song . THe Courtier scorns us Country-Clowns , We Country-Clowns do scorn the Court : We can be as merry upon the Downs , As you at midnight with all your sport : With a fadding , with a fadding . You hawk , you hunt , you lie upon Pallets , You eat , you drink ▪ the Lord knows how : We sit upon hillocks , and pick upon Sallets , And sup up our Sillibubs under a cow : With a fadding , with a fadding . Your Suits are made of Silks and Sattins , And ou●s are made of good Sheeps-gray : You mix your discourses with pieces of Latin , We speak our old English as well as we may : With a fadding , with a fadding . Your Masks are made of Knights and Lords , And Ladies that be fresh and gay : We dance with such musick as Bag-pipe affords , And trick up our Lasses as well as we may : With a fadding , with a fadding . Your Rooms are behung with cloth of Arras , Our Meadows are deck'd as fresh as may be : And from our Pastime you never shall bar us , Since Ioan in the dark 's as good as my Lady : With a fadding , with a fadding . The Gelding of the Devil . A Merry Jest I will you tell , Of the gelding of the Devil of hell ; And of the Baker of Mansfield-town , To Manchester-market as he was bound : And under a Grove of Willows clear , The Baker was singing with lusty chear ; Beyond the willows there was a well , And there he met with the Devil of hell . Oh , quoth the Devil , how chanceth that Thy Horse he is so fair and fat ? Good Sir , quoth the Baker , by my fay , 'Cause both his stones are cut away ; For he that is a Gelding free , Both fair and lusty will he be . Oh , quoth the Devil and sayst thou me so ? Thou shalt geld me before thou dost go . The Baker had a knife of iron and steel , Wherewith he gelded the devil of hell : 'T was sharp , and pointed for the nonce , And for to carve all manner of stones . The Baker he lighted from off his horse , And cut the devil's stones clear from 's arse : Oh , quoth the devil , beshrew thy heart ; Thou dost not feel how I do smart . For gelding of me thou art not quit ; I mean to geld thee the same day sennit . The Baker hearing the words he said , In his heart was sore afraid : He hy'd him unto the next Market-town , To sell his bread both white and brown , And when the Market was done that day , The Baker rode home another way ; And told his wife how all befel , How he had gelded the devil of hell . Wondrous words , quoth he , I heard him say , He would geld me the next Market-day : Therefore , said the Baker , I stand in doubt . Uds bobs , I 'd rather the ●naves eyes were out : I 'd rather thou shouldst break thy neck-bone , Than for to lose any manner of stone . For why ? it is a loathsom thing ; And every woman will call thee Gelding . Thus they remained both in fear , Until the Market-day drew neer . Then quoth the Goodwife , Well I wot , Go fetch me thy doublet for and thy coat , Thy hose , and thy shoon , and thy cap also , And I like a man to the Market will go . Then forth she hy'd her all in haste , With her bread upon her beast : And when she came unto the hill's side , There she saw two devils abide ; A little devil and another , Were playing as if th' had been sister and brother : Oh , quoth the great devil , without fain , Yonder 's the Baker ; go call him again . But be thou weal , Baker , or be thou wo , I mean to geld thee before thou dost go . But these were the words the woman did say ; Good Sir , I was gelt but yesterday . Oh , quoth the devil , and that I will see : And he pull'd her hose beneath her knee ; And looking upwards from the ground , There he spy'd a most grievous wound . Oh , quoth the devil , now I see He was nothing cunning that gelded thee : For when he had cut off thy stones clean , He should have sow'd up the holes again . He call'd the little Devil to him anon , And bid him look to that same man , While he did go to some private place To get some salve in a little space . The Devil was no sooner gone his way , But upon her belly there crep't a flea : The little Devil soon espied that , He up with his paw , and gave it a pat : The woman for fear began to start , And out she thrust a most horrible fart . Hoop , hoop quoth the little devil ; come again , I say , Here 's another hole broke hard by , by my fay . Baker , quoth the devil , thou canst not be ●ound , That smellest so sore above the ground : Thy life and days it cannot be long ▪ Thy breath it savours so horrible strong : The hole is broke so near the bone , There will no salve well stick upon : Therefore , Baker , hie thee away , And in this place no longer stay . Charing Cross . UNdone , undone , you Lawyers are , That wander about the Town , And can't finde the way to Westminster , Now Charing-Cross is down : At the end of the Strand they make a stand , Swearing they 're at a loss ; And chasing say , That 's not the way ; They must go by Charing-Cross . The Committees they said , Verily To Pop'ry it was bent . For ought I know , it might be so : To Church it never went . What with — and other Laws , The Kingdom doth begin To think you 'll leave them ne'er a Cross Without doors nor within . For neither man , woman nor childe , Can say , I 'm confident , That ere they heard it speak a word Against the Parliament . 'T had Letters about it found , some say , Or else it had been freed : 'Fore George , I 'll take my oath of it , 'T could neither write nor read . The Maids Portion . 1. NOw all my friends are dead and gone , Alas , what shall betide me ? For I poore maid am left alone , Without a house to hide me : Yet still I le be of merry cheer , And have kind welcome every where , Though I have but a Mark a year , And that my mother gave me . 2. I scorn to think of Poverty , Or want of food or cloathing , I le be maintained gallantly , And all my life want nothing ; A frolique mind● Il● alwayes beare , My poverty shall not appeare , Though I have but , &c. 3. Though I am but a silly wench Of Country Education , Yet I am woo'd by Dutch and French , And almost every nation . Both Spaniards and Italians sweare , That with their hearts they love me dear● , Yet I have but a Mark a yeare And that my mother , &c. 4. The Welch , the Irish and the Scot , Since I came to the Citty , In love to me are wondrous hot , They tell me I am Pretty : Therefore to live I will not feare , For I am sought both farre and near , Yet I have but , &c. 5. This London is a gallant place To raise a Lasses fortune , For I that came of simple race , Brave roarers doe importune I little thought in Dorchester , To find such high preferment here , For I have but a Mark a yeare Which my good mother , &c. 6. One gives to me perfumed Gloves The best that he can buy me , Live where I will I have the Ioves Of all that doe live ●●gh me If any new toyes I will weare , I le have them , cost they ne're so dear . Though I have but , &c. 7. My fashion with the Moone I change As though I were a Lady , All quaint conceits both new and strange , I le have as soon as may be : Your Courtly Ladyes I can jeare , In cloath , but few to me come neere , Yet I have but , &c. 8. French Gowns with sleeves like pudding baggs I have at my requesting , Now I forget my Country ragg● , And scorn such plaine investing My old acquaintance I casheere , And of my kin I hate to hear , Though I have but , &c. 9. My petticoats of Scarlet brave , Of Velvet , Silk and Sattin , Some Students of my love do crave , That speak both Greek and Latin ; The Soldiers for me domineere , And put the rest into great feare . All this is is for a mark a year , And that my mother , &c. 10. The Precisian sincerely vowes , And doth protest he loves me , He tires me out with yea's and no's , And to impatience moves me : Although an oath he will not swear , To lye at no time he doth farre . All this is for a mark a year , And that my mother , &c. 11. My Coach drawn with four Flanders Mares , Each day attend my pleasure , The Water-men will leave their fares To wait upon my leisure . Two Lacqueys labour every where , And at my word run here and there . Though I have but , &c. 12. Now if my friends were living still , I would them all abandon , Though I confesse they lov'd me well , Yet I so like of London , That farewell Dad and Mammy dear , And all my friends in Dorcetshire . I live well with a mark a yeare , And that my mother , &c. 13. I would my sister Sue at home Knew how I live in fashion , That she might up t●London come , And learn this Ocupation , For I live like a Lady here , I weare good clothes , and eat good cheare . Yet I have but , &c. 14. Now blessed be that happy day , That I came to the Citty , And for the Carrier will I pray , Before I end my Ditty . You maidens that this Ditty heare , Though means be short , yet never feare : For I live with a mark a year , Which my old mother gave me . VVat's A la mort. 1. IF mourn I may in time so glad , Or mingle joyes with ditty sad . Lend your eares , lend Wa● your eyes , And look you where she ●o●abed lies ; Two simple fee● , alas , containes The last which late oer Downs and Plaines , Made Horse , and Hound , and Horn to blow , Why Wat , where art ? So ho , so ho . 2. Where is this view and cunning sent , Which so much blood and breath ha●t spent ? This subtile traines thy Courses strong , Thy Capers high , thy Dances long , Thy envious leannest , and thy Muse , As perfect as a Maidens Scuce . Thy tract in snow , like widdowes we . Why Wat , &c ▪ 3. Oh! where is now thy flight so fleet , Thy jealous brow , thy nimble feet , Thy magick frisks , thy Circles round , Thy Jugling feats , to mock the hound ? Who sees thee now in covert creep , To sit and hark , or stand and weep , Or coole thy foot to foyle thy foe ? Why Wat , &c. 4. Why didst thou not then flye this fate , And from this forme thrust forth thy Mate , As some good Wife when Death 's at dore Shee 'l thrust her good Man forth before ? Why didst thou not this doome to scape ? Upon thee take some Wizards shape , Or shrowd thy selfe in Cottage low . Why Wat , &c. 5. But should we think Wat was more wise , Then Iowlers nose , or Ioundells cries , Or Ladies lips , since Wat alone , Must needs by many be or ' ethrown ? Yet as I mourn , thy life so short , So will I sing thy royall sport , And guiltlesse game of all I know . Why Wat , &c. 6. O sad , the fair young son of myrrh , Forsook the boar and follow'd her , Or had Action hunted Wat , When he saw Dyna's , you know what ; Or had the young man lov'd this life , Who slew for Deer , his dearest wife . They all had known no other wo , Save Wat where art ? so ho so ho . A Question . WHy are women said their husbands to deceive . Since the keyes of their wickets with their husbands they leave ? The Answer is made to this Question so put , That that doore which will open by chance , will not shut . The Game at Shittle-cock . MY Mistress is a Shittle-cock , compos'd of cork and feather , Each battledore playes with her dock , and beats upon her leather . When one will not suffice her will , She flies unto another still . On the Beard . THe beard thick or thin , On the lip or the chin , Doth dwell so near the tongue , That her silence In the beard's defence , Would doe her neighbour wrong ▪ Now a beard is a thing That commands in a King , Be his Scepter nere so faire . When it beares sway The people obey , And are ruled to a haire . 'T is a Princely sight And a great delight , That adorns both young and old . A well thatch'd face Is a comely grace , And a shelter from the cold . When the piercing North Comes fiercely forth , Let the barren face beware . For a trick it will finde With a razor of winde , To shave the cheek that is bare . But there 's many nice And strange device , That doth the beard disgrace , But he that brings in Such a foolish thing , Is a traytor to his face . But of beards there be Such a company , Of fashions such a throug . That it is very hard To handle the beard , Though it be nere so long . The Roman T In its bravery , Doth first its self disclose . But so high it turns Many times that it burns , With the flames of a torrid nose . The picked beard , Is makes me afeard , It is so sharp beneath ; For he that doth place A dagger in his face , What doth he in his sheath ? But methinks I do itch To go thorough stitch , And the needle beard to mend , Which without any wrong , I may call too long , For a man can see no end . The Soldier's beard Doth march in the heard , In figure like a spade , With which he doth make His enemies quake , To think that their Graves are made . The grim stubble eke On the Justice's cheek , Must not my verse despise , Which were more fit For a Nutmeg , but it Doth grate poore prisoners eyes . A Beard doth invest The Bishops brest , With much white spreading haire , Which an Embleme may be Of the integrity That doth inhabite there . But O let us tarry For the beard of King Harry , That growes upon the chin , In his bushie pride With a grave on each side , And a Champion ground between . Next the clowne doth out rush With his beard of bush , Which may be well endur'd , For though his face Lyes in a rude case , Yet his land is well manur'd . 1 : A song , on a Tenement . IF any man doth want a house , Be he Prince , Baronet● , or ' Squire , Or Peasant , ( hardly worth a louse ) I can fit his desire : I have a tenement , the which , I know will fit them all , 'T is seated near a stinking ditch , They call it Cunny-hall . 2. It doth lye beyond bonny ground At the foot of Belly-hill , This house is easie to be found By whosoever will , For terme of life , or years , or dayes , I le let this pleasant bowre , Nay ' rather than a tenant want I le let it for an houre . 3. About it growes a lofty Wood To shade you from the Sun , Well water'd 't is , for thorow it , A pleasant stream doth run : If hot , you there may coole your selfe ; If cold , you 'le there finde hear ; For greatest , 't is not too little ; For least , 't is not too great . 4. My house , I must confesse , 't is dark Be it by night or day , But if you once be got therein You cannot misse your way ; But when y●'re in , make boldly of As fast as are you can , But if you come to th' end thereof You come where nere did man . 5. Thus if you like my Cunny-hall Your house-rent shall be good , For such a temper as you please , Burn neither coale nor wood ; But if it rain , or freez , or snow , To speak I dare be bold , If you keep your nose within dore You nere shall be a cold . I Am that lofty Swaine That never car'd to love None of Diana's traine Could ever my fancy move : Kad Cupit from above Could never conquer me , Since Peggy it is thee I love , And thy Captive I will be . 7. Since Peggy it is sure That I doe love thee best , Then put aside delayes And grant me my request . Come good or evill hap , Come wealth or poverty , I le set thee in my lap And I le smuggle thee hand somly . 8. Vlisses did commend Constant Penelope , Pigmalion lov'd his friend , Why may not I love thee ? Though great Achilles was The God of Victory , He lov'd a Trojan Lasse And smuggl'd her handsomly . 9. Though Vulcan ( grim and black ) Faire Venus did imbrace , Of him she thought no lack For all his dirty face : Though he were crook'● d●kin , And Iglerd ore the eye , Yet Venus lov'd him well And he smuggl'd her handsomly . Matheglin , ale , and beer , Plump clarret wine , and sherry Shall not be wanting here If'● may but make thee merry : When ended is the feast With mirth and merry glee , I take thee to the bed And Il● smuggle thee handsomely . Lydford Law . A Song . 1. I Oft have heard of Lydford-Law How in the morne they hang end draw , And sit in judgement after : At first I wondred at it much , But since I finde the reason such That it deserves no laughter . 2. There stands a Castle on a hill , I took it for an old Windmill . The Van 's blown off with weather ; To lye therein one night 't is guess'd 'T were better to be hang'd or press'd , Or drownd , now chus● you whether . 3. The Prince an hundred pound hath sent To mend the leads and plankings rent Within this living tombe ; Some forty five pounds more had paid The debts of all that sh●ll be laid There , till the Day of Doome . 4. One lyes there for a peck of salt , Another for three pecks of malt , Two sureties for a noble : If this be true or else fals● newes , You may goe ask of Master Cruse , Iohn Vaughan , or Iohn Doble . 5. Though debts and Debters are but poor , The Courts and Causes are the more , ( So many Tynners made ) That Lawyers and Attourneys all , Which in these Courts doe sco●de and brawle Doe finde it a gainfull trade . 6. Nere to these men that lye in lurch , There is a bridge , there is a Church Five Ashes and one Oake ; Seven houses standing and ten down , Some say the Parson hath a gown , But I saw nere a cloake . 7. Whereby you may consider well , That plain simplicity doth dwell At Lydford without bravery : For in that town , both young and grave The naked truth , and have No Clokes to hide their kn●very . 8. The people all within this Clim● Are frozen all the winter time . ( be sure I do not fain ) And when the Somer is begun , They lye like Slow-worms in the Sun , And come to life again . 9. I kiss'd the Mayor's hand o' th' town , VVho , though he wear no Scarlet gown , Yet honours the Rose and Thistle . A piece of Corall in the Mace , VVhich there I saw , to serve the place , 'T would make a good childs whistle . 10. At six o' th' clock I came away , And vow'd I would no longer stay ▪ within a place so — arrant , Both wide and ope to winds that roare , By Gods grace I le come there no more , Unlesse by some tynn warrant . A SONG . 1. O My Dearest I shall grieve thee , VVhen I sweare , yet Sweet believe me ; By thine eyes the tempting book , On which even crabbed ol● men look ; I swear to thee , though none abhor them , Yet do I not love thee for them . 2. I do not love thee for that faire Rich Fan of thy most curious haire , Although the wires thereof be drawn Far finer than the threds of Lawn , And are softer than the leaves On which the subtile Spinner weaves . 3. I do not love thee for those Flowers Growing on thy cheeks , Loves bowers ; Though such cunning them hath spread , That none can part their white and red : Loves golden arrowes thence are shot , And yet for them I love thee not . 4. I do not love thee for those soft Red Corrall'd lips I k●st so oft , Nor teeth of Pearle , the double guard To speech , where Musick still is heard ; Though from those lips a kisse being taken , Can tyrants melt , and death awaken ▪ 4. I do not love thee , oh my fairest , For that richest , for that rarest Silver piller , that stands under Thy round head , the Globe of wonder ; Though that neck be whiter far Than towers of polished Ivory are . 6. I do not love thee for those mountaines , Hid with snow , where milky fountaines , Sugar'd sweet as syrrop'd berries , Must one day run through pipes of cherries ▪ O how much those breasts do move me , Yet for them I do not love thee . 7. I do not love thee for that belly , Sleek as sattin , soft as jelly ; Although within that Christ ●ll round VVhole heaps of treasure might be found , So rich , that for the least of them , A King might give his D●adem . 8. I do not love thee for those thighes , VVhose A●●blaster rocks do rise So high , and even that they stand Like sea-ma●k● to some happy Land . Happy are those eyes have seen them , More happy he shall saile between them . 9. I do not love thee for that palm , Although the dew thereof be balm , Nor for that pretty leg and foot , Although it be the precious root , On which this goodly Caedar grows ; My Sweet , I love thee not for those . 10. Nor for thy wit , though pure and quick , VVhose substance no Arithmetick Can number down ; nor for those charms Thou mak'st with thine embracing armes : Although in them one night to lye , My dearest I would gladly dye . 11. I love thee not for eyes or haire , Nor teeth , nor cheeks , nor lips so rare , Nor for thy speech , nor neck , nor breast , Nor for thy belly , nor the rest , Nor for thy hand , nor foot so small , But wilt thou know , dear sweet , for all ? A Song . 1. COme , come , come , do you mask , do you mum By my holy doom ? what a coile is here ? Some must sway , and some obey , Or else I pray , who will stand in fear ? Though my toe That I limp on so , Do work my wo , and well aday , This sweet spring , And another thing , Will make us sing Fa , la , la , la , la , 2. Fellow Gods , are you faln at odds ? What fury mads your immortall braines ? For a little care of the worlds affair , Will you fret & swear ? will you take such pains ? No Gods , no , Let fury go , And mortalls wo as well as they . This sweet spring , And another thing , Will make us sing , Fa , la , la , la , la ▪ 3. Thou God of Moe● , with thy toting nose , And thy mouth that growes to thy ●olling eare , Stretch it forth from North to South , And quench thy drought in Vinegar . Though thy tongue Be too large and long To sing the song of Fa , la , la , la , la , Joyn Momus grace To Vulcans pace , And a filthy face , cry , Bow , wow , wow , wow , wow . A SONG . ALL haile to the dayes That merits more praise Than all the rest of the yeere , And welcome the nights That double delights , As well in the Poore as the Peere . Good fortune attend Each merry mans friend , That doth but the best that he may , Forgetting old wrong , With a cup and a song , To drive the cold Winter away . Let Misery pack With a whip at his back , To the deep Tantalian flood ; And Envy profound In Lethe be drown'd , That repines at another mans good ; Let Sorrow's expenc● Be a thousand yeares hence With payments of grief and delay , And spend the whole night With honest delight , To drive the cold Winter away . The threading of the Needle . 1. O That I durst but thred your Needle , Lady , There would I work till I had made a Baby , Or stop your Floodgates , on condition I Did at the Joynter in the River lye . 2. Oh that I durst but shoot a Gulph I know , Or in the Lower Countreys my seed sow ; Or plough the bottome of that Nether land , Untill my Plough did fall , and I not stand . 3. Oh that I durst but play at in and in , If I were out , I would again begin ; Or fast or loose , I care not whether much , Yet should I lose at both , my play is such . 4. Oh that I durst tread the grass that grows About your River , where perfect Nectar flows , Or that my smaller Current might distill His moysture into yours , till yours it fill . 5. Oh that I durst monopolize a thing , I mean that curious black enamell'd Ring , Whose vertue 's such in durance , that it has Worn out a world of Stones , that did surpasse ; Yet I care not ; for all that I will venter , If you 'll give leave , within your Ring to enter . The hunting of the Gods . To the Tune of Room for Cuckolds . 1. SOngs of Sonnets , and rusticall Rounde laye , Forms of fancies are whistled on reeds , Songs to solace young Nymphs upon Holydayes , Are too unworthy for wonderfull deeds : Phoebus ingenious , VVith witty Silenius : His haughty genius taught to declare , In words better coyned , And verse better joyned , How starres divined the hunting the Hare . 2. Starres enamour'd with pastimes olympicall ; Starres and Planets yet beautiful shone , VVould no longer that mortall men only Should swim in pleasures , while they but look on . Round about horned Lucina they swarmed , And her informed how minded they were ; Each God and Goddesse To take humane bodies , As Lords and Ladies to follow the Hare . 3. Chast Diana applauded the motion , And pale Proserpina sat in her place , Which guides the Welkin & governs the Ocean , Till she conducts her Nephews in chace , Till by her example , Their Father to trample The old and ample earth , leave them the aire , Neptune the water And wine , liber pater , And Mars the slaughter , to follow the Hare . 4. Young god Cupid mounted on Pegasus , Beloved of Nymphs , with kisses and praise , Strong Alcides upon cloudy Caucasus , Mounts a Centaur , which proudly him bare , Postillian of the sky , Swift-footed Mercury Makes his Courser fly fleet as the aire . Yellow Apollo The Kennell doth follow With whip and hollow , after the Hare . 5. Young Amintas thought the Gods came to breathe After their battel , themselves on the ground , Thirsts did think the Gods came to dwell here beneathe , And that hereafter the world would go round , Coridon aged With Phillis engaged , Was much enraged with jealous despaire . But fury was vaded , And he was perswaded , When he they applauded the hunting the Hare . 6. Deep Melampus , and cunning Iramboti , Neap and Tiger , and Harpi the skies Rents with roaring , whilst hunter-like Hercules Windes his plentifull horn to their cries , Till with varieties , To solace their Deities , Their weary pieties refreshed were , We sheepherds were seated , The whilst we repeated How we conceited the hunting the Hare . 7. Stars but shadowes were , joyes are but sorrowes , Were there no motion , nor had they delight , Joyes are joviall , delights are the marrowes Of li●e and motion , the axell of might , Pleasure depends Upon no other friends , But freely lends to each vertue a share , Onely is pleasure The measure of treasure , Of pleasure the treasure is hunting the Hare . 8. Drowned Narcissus from his Metamorphosis , Rowzed by Eccho , new man-hood did take . Snoring Somnus up-started from Caemeris , The which this thousand years was not awake , To see club footed Old Mulciber booted , And Pan promoted on Coridon's mare . Proud Pallas pouted , And AEolus shouted , And Momus flouted , yet follow'd the Hare : 9. Hymen ushers the Lady Astraea , The jest takes hold of Minerva the old ; Ceres the brown , with bright Caeth●ria , With Thetis the wanton , Bellona the bold ; Shamefac'd Aurora , With witty Pandora , And Maia with Flora did company bear , But Iuno was stated Too high to be mated , Although she hated not hunting the Hare . 10. Three broad boles to the Olympicall Rector , The Troy-born Eagle pres●nts on his knee , Iove to Phoebus carouses in Nectar , And Phoebus to Hermes , and Hermes to mee : Wherewith infused , I piped and mused , In tongues unused their sports to declare , Till that the house of Iove , Round as the Spheares do move Health to all those that love hunting the Hare . A SONG . NAy , prethee don't fly me , But sit thee down by me ; I cannot endure The Lad that 's demure , A pox on your Worships and Sirs ; Your Congies and Trips , With your Legs and your Lips , Your Madams and Lords , And such finicall words , And the Complement you bring , That doth spell nothing , You may keep for the Change and the Furres : For at the beg●nning was neither Peasant nor Prince , And who the devil made the distinction since ? Those Titles and Honours Do remain in the Donours , And not in the King , To which they do cling , If his soul be too narrow that weares um ; No delight can I see In the thing call'd degree ; Honest Dick sounds as well As a name with an L. That with Titles doth swell , And thunder l●ke a Spell , To affright mortal eares that do hear um . He that wears a brave soul , & dares honestly do , Is a Herauld to himself and a Godfather too . Why should we then dote on One with a Foole's coat on , VVhose Coffers are cramm'd ? But yet he 'l be damn'd Ere he 'l do a good act or a wise one : What reason hath he To be ruler ore me , Who is Lord ore his Chest ? But his Head and her Breast Are both empty and bare , And puffe up with aire , And can neither assist nor advise one : Honour but air , and proud flesh but dust is , 'T is we Commons make Lords , as the Clerks make the Justice . But since we must be Of a different degree , 'Cause most do aspire , To be greater and higher Than the rest of their fellowes , & brothers . He that hath such a spirit , Let him gain by his merit , Spend his wealth , brains and blood For his Country's good , And make himself fit By his valour and wit , For things above the reach of all others . Honor 's a prize , and who wins it may wear it , If not , 't is a badge and a burthen to bear it . For my part let me be But quiet and free , I le drink Sack and obey , Let the great ones sway , That spend their whole time in thinking ; I le nere busie my pate With secrets of State , The Newes books I le burn all , And with the Diurnall Light Tobacco , and admit They are so far fit , As they serve for good company and drinking . All the name I desire is an honest good fellow , And that man has no worth , that won't sometimes be mellow . Bow Goose . 1. THe best of Poets write of Hogs , And of Vlysses barking Dogs , Others of Sparrows , Flies and Frogs , In former ages sang . Some of the silver Swan of Bow , Although mine was no Swan , what tho ? It was a Goose was brought from Bow To Algate . 2. A● harmlesse and as innocent She was , as those that with her went , Nor do not think the watchmen meant More sillier than she ; Who rested onely on a stall , And gave them not one word at all , And yet these Caniballs did fall About her . 3. In silence then my Goose sat still , Till she perceiving each mans bill , Praying they would not use her ill , That lookt so like them all . Yet they disdaining did begin About us for to cast a gin , And then the Constable came in And took us . 4. To whom they did relate our case , And swore each man would quit his place , If we were suffered to disgrace The Kings Lieutenant so . And then my G●nders eminence , My Goose and I commanded thence , And were made graduats to commence I' th' Counter . 5. We thither went , and then my Goose , That pinion'd was before , got loose , For having us within their noose , They had no cause to fear : Then into every ward we went , And here and there our money spent , Untill the Constable had sent Next morning . 6. Who summon'd us for to appear ; Before an Alderman I le swear , That might have been that present year , Made Lord Mayor for his wit : Who took my Gooses cause in hand , And things with such judgment scann'd , That having done I scarce could stand For laughing . 7. He did not onely reprehend Our follies , but did much commend The Constable , his honest friend , For this good service done . How happy is thie City blest , With Officers among the rest , That I may adde unto their Crest My Bow Goose ? 8. But to my grief , I le tell you what , My Goose , which was before so fat , She might have been , accepted at A Mayor or Sheriffs table , Grew wan and lean , and that so ill , That from her wing she dropt a quill , Desiring me to write her Will ; Which I did . 9. And thus my Goose's will began , Unto the reverend Alderman I do bequeath my brain-sick pan , With all therein contained . And Mr. Constable , to you My empty head , which is your due , My bill unto the damned crew , The Watchmen . 10. And furthermore , it is my will The City Clerks should have a quill , To write such learned speeches still , As his brave Lordship utters : And unto Mr. Alderman I give my taile to make a fan , My legs unto the Gentleman Her usher . 11. I do bequeath my body's trunk Unto good fellowes , for the rump Desiring that there may be drunk Both Claret and Canary . I pray you discharge your company , All such as shall Recusants be , To drink a health in memory Of my Bow Goose . 12. My body to the city Cook , That lives not far from Pasty-nook , That he into my corps may look , And coffin them in past . My guts for th' Marshall's red face save , To wear about his neck so brave , That honest Palfrey , the proud slave , May swagger . 13. As for my fellow pris'ners all , That live in debt , and ever shall , I do bequeath perpetuall , My sad and heavy heart . My clawes and pinions I do give Unto the Serjants and the Sheriff , That they may punish those that live Indebted . 14. One thing more I do perceive Almost forgot , I do bequeath My tongue , which tatling cannot leave Unto the City Counsel , That they may meditate a truce Between the City , and me their Goose , For me to be their constant muse For ever . 15. That in their Liveries they may call The boyes from every Hospitall , To sing my solemn funerall , With Dirge● to my grave , And when my Goose had uttered this , Then did my Goose begin to pisse , And sighing with a harmlesse hisse , Departed . The Libertine . 1. PErswade me not , I vow I le love no more ; My heart has now tane quarter , My fetters I le no more adore ▪ Nor madly run as heretofore . To break my freedome's Charter . He that once failes , may try again , But whoso often fool'd has been , And still attempts , commits a triple sin , He 's his own humor 's Martyr . I le use my liberty to ●u● Abroad , and still be chusing , Who would consine himself to one That has power of refusing ? 2. The unconfined B●e , we see his power To kisse and feele each Flower , Nor are his pleasures limited , To the ruines of one Maiden-head , Nor ty●d to one's embraces But having 's will of one , he 'l flye T'another , and there load his thigh , Why shou●d he have more privilege than I , Since both are amarous cases ? D●ffer in this alone , his thighes , When he abroad doth roame , Laden with spoyls , return , but mine Come weak and empty home . 3. The self-same beauty that I 've often sworn , Dwelt onely in my Dearest , I see by other Ladyes worn , Whom the same graces do adorn , I like that face that 's nearest , This I salute , and walk with that , With this I sing , with th' other chat , I 've none to catechise me , where , or what , Nor will be ty'd t' a Quaerist . Thus out of all , Pigmalion-like , My fancy limns a woman , To her I freely sacrifice , And rivall am by no man . A Maidens Deniall . NAy pish ! nay phew ! nay faith and will you ? A Gentleman , and use thus ! I le cry . Nay , Gods body , what means this ? nay fie for fie ! shame ; Nay faith away ! nay fie ! you are too blame ; Heark ! some body comes , hands off , I pray ; I le pinch , I le scratch , I le spurn , I le run away . Nay faith , you strive in vain , you shall not speed , You ma● my Ruff , you hurt my Back , I bleed . Look how the door stands ope , somebody ●ees ; Your buttons scratch , in faith you hurt my knees ; What will men say ? Lord , what a coyle is here ? You make me sweat yfaith , here 's goodly geer . Nay , faith , let me intreat you , if you lift , You mar my clothes , you tear my smock , but had I wift So much before , I would have shut you out . Is it a proper thing you go about ? I did not think you would have us'd me this ; But now I see I took my aime amisse . A little thing would make me not be friends : You 've us'd me well , I hope you 'l make amends ; Hold still , I le wip● your face , you sweat amain , You have got a goodly thing with all your pain ▪ Alas , how hot am I ? what will you drink ? If you go sweating down , what will men think ? Remember , Sir , how you hav● us'd me now , Doubtlesse ere long , I will be meet with you . If any man , but you , had us'd me so ▪ Would I have put it up ? in faith , Sir , no . Nay go not yet , stay here and sup with me , And then at cards we better shall agree . The Companion . 1. WHat need we take care for Platoni●k rules , Or the Precepts of Aristotle ? They that think to find learning in Books are but fools , True Philosophy lyes in the Bottle ; And a minde That 's confin'd To the mode of the Schooles , Nere arrives at the height of a pottle : Let the Sages Of our ages Keep a talking O● our walking Demurely , while we that are wiser Do abhor all That 's mortall In Plato And Cato , And Seneca talks like a S●zer . Chorus . Then let full Bowles on Bowles be hurl'd , That our Iollity may be compleat ; For Man , though he be but a very little world , Must be drowned as well as a great . 2. We 'll drink till our cheek●s be as starr'd as the skies , Let the pale colour'd Students flout us , And our noses like Comets set fire on our eyes , Till we beare the Horizon about us ; And if all Make us fall , Then our heeles shall devise What the Stars are a doing without us : Let Lilly Go tell y● Of wonders And thunders . Let Astrologers all divine , And let Booker Be a looker Of our natures In our features , He 'll find nothing but Claret in Wine . Chorus . Then let full Bowles , &c. On CANARY . 1. OF all the rare juices That Bacchus or Phaebus produces , There 's none that I can , or dare I Compare with the princely Canary . For this is the thing That a fancy infuses , The first got a King , The next the Nine Muses . 'T was this made old Poets so sprightly to sing , And fill all the world , with the glory & fame on 't , They Helicon call'd it , and the Thespian spring , But this was the drink , though they knew not the name on 't . 2. Our Cyder and Perry May make a man mad , but not merry ; It makes people wind-mill pated , And with Crotchets suffisticated , And your hops , yest and malt , VVhen they 're mingled together , Make our fancies to halt , Or reele any whither : It stuffs up our brains with froth and with yest , That if one would write but a verse for a Bel-man , He must study till Christmas for an eight shillings jest ; These liquors won't raise , but drown or o're-whelm man . 3. Our drowzy Matheglin ▪ VVas onely ordain'd to invegle in The Novice that knowes not to drink yet , But is fudled before he can think it : And your Claret and White Have a Gun-powder fury , They 're of the French sp'rite , But they won't long endure you . And your Holiday Muskadel ▪ Allegant and Tent , Have only this property & vertue that 's fit in'● , They 'l make a man s●●ep till a preachment be spent , But we neither can warm our blood not our wit in 't . 4. The Braggot and Rhinish You must with ingredients replenish , 'T is Wine to please Ladies and toyes with , But not for a man to rejoyce with ; But 't is Sack makes the sport , And who gains but the Flavor ? Though an Abbess he court , In his high shooes h●'l have her . 'T is this that advances the Drinker and Drawer , Though the Father come to town in his hobnailes and leather , He turnes it to Velvet , and brings up an Heire , In the town in his Chain , in the field with his Feather . A Song . YOu that in love do mean to spo●● , Tobacco , Tobacco , Take a wench of the meaner sort , Tobacco , Tobacco . But let her have a comely face Like one that comes of Venus race , Then take occasion , time and place To give her some Tobacco . Your Can with moysture must abound , Tobacco , Tobacco , Your Bullets must be plump and round , Tobacco , Tobacco . But if that you do please her well , Tobacco , Tobaecco , All others then you will excell , Tobacco , Tobacco . She will be ready at your call , And take Tobacco , Pipe , and all , So ready will she be to fall To tast your good Tobacco . Your Stopper must be stiff and strong , It must be large and long , Or else she sweares you do her wrong . She scorns your weak Tobacco . A Fancy . WHen Py-crust first began to reign , Cheese-parings went to warre , Red Herrings lookt both blew and wan , Green Leeks and Puddings jarre . Blind Hugh went out to see Two Cripples run a race , The Ox fought with the Humble Bee , And claw'd him by the face . A Lady's Prayer to Cupid . SInce I must needs into thy Schoole return , Be pitifull O Love I and do not burn Me with desire of cold , and frozen age , Nor let me follow a fond Boy , or Page ; But gentle Cupid give me , if thou can , One to my Love , whom I may call a man , Of Person comely , and of Face as sweet , Let him be sober , secret , and discreet , Well practis'd in Love's school ; let him within Wear all his haire , and none upon his Chin : An ODE . 1. COme noble Nymphs , and do not hide The joyes for which you so provide , If not , to mingle with us men ; What do you here ? go home agen : Your Dressings do confesse , By what we see so curious arts Of Pallace and of Parts , That you could mean no lesse : 2. Why do you wear the Silk-wormes toyles , Or glory in the Shelfish spoyles ? Or strive to shew the graines of Oare , That you have gathered long before , Whereof to make a Stoick , To graft the green Emrald on , Or any better water'd stone , Or Rubie of the Roick . 3. Why do you smell of Ambergreece , Whereof was formed Neptune's Neece , The queen of Love ? unlesse you can , Like sea-born Venus , love a Man : Try , put your self unto'r , Your lookes , and smiles , and thoughts that meet Ambrosian hands , and silver feet , Do promise you will do'● . A Song . MAy not an old age yet sing an April song ? Iug , Iug , Tru , Tru , sweet notes of Philomel , Come Iuno ! for to thee it doth belong , Up in Love's Syngraph , sacred Rites to seale . Iug , Iug , the plain song be of jugal love , Descant then Tru , Tru , as the Dance is led . Vertue will so in a sweet measure move , Xanthus his golden arm● shall open spread , Embracing fruitfull beauty to his bed . And to this Song let us sing , Ecchoing , Ecchoing . The Bridall Night . WHy art thou coy ( my L●da ) art not mine ? Hath not the holy Hymineall Twine Power to contract our Natures ? must I be Still interposed with needlesse modesty ? What though my former passions made me vow , You were an Angel ; be a Mortall now : The Bride-maids all are vanish'd , and the crew O Virgin Ladyes , that did wait on you , Have left us to our selves , as coy to be Injurious to our Loves wish'd privacy . Come then undresse ; why blush you ? prethee smile ; Faith I le dis-robe you , nay I will not spoile Your Necklace , or your Gorget , here 's a pin Pricks you ; fair Leda 't were a cruel sin Not to remove it ; oh how many gates Are to Elizium ! yet the sweetest Straits That ere made Voyage happy , here 's a lace Me thinks should stifle you ; it doth embrace Your body too severely , take a knife , 'T is tedious to undo it , by my life It shall be cut ; let your Carnation Gown Be pulld off too , and next let me pull down This Rosie petticoat ; what is this cloud That keeps the day-light from us , and 's allow'd More privivilege then I ? though it be white , 'T is not the white I aim at ( by this light ) It shall go off ( too ) No : then let ' ● alone . Come let 's to bed , why look you so ? here 's none Sees you but I ; be quick , or by this hand I le lay you down my self , you make me stand Too long●'th ' cold : why do you lye so far ? I le fellow you , this distance shall not bar Your body from me ; oh 't is well ! and now I le let thy Virgins innocence know how Kings propagate young Princes , Marriage bed● Never destroy , but erect Maiden-heads . A Song . AS Colin went forth his sheep to unfold , In a morning of April as gray as t was cold , In a thick●t he heard a voyce it self spread , Which was , Oh , oh , I am almost dead . He peep'd in the bushes , and spy'd where there lay His Mistress , whose countenance made April May ; But yet in her looks some sadness was read , Crying Oh , &c. He rush'd in unto her , & cry'd what 's the matter ? Ah Colin , quoth she , why will you come at her , Who by the false Swain hath oft been mislead ? To which , Oh , &c. He turn'd her Milk-paile , and down there he sat , H●s hand stroak'd his beard , on his knee hung his hat ; But yet still Mopsa cry'd , before ought was sed . Colin , Oh , oh , &c. Be God quoth stout Colin , I ever was true , Thou gav'st me a handkerchief all hemm'd with blew , A pin-box I gave thee , & a girdle so red , And yet she cry'd , Oh , &c. Delaying , quoth she , hath made me thus ill , I ever fear'd Sarah that dwelt at the mill , Since in the Evenings late her hogs thou hast fed . For which , Oh , oh , &c. Colin then chuckt her under the chin , Cleare up , for to love thee I never will lin ; Qd. she I le believe it when the Parson has read . Till then , Oh , oh , &c. Uds bores , quoth Colin , I le new clout my shoon , And ere a week pass , by the mass 't shall be done . You might have done before then , she said : But now , Oh , oh , &c. He gave her a twitch that quite turn'd her round , And said , I am the truest that ere trod on ground , Come settle thy milk-paile fast to thy head : No more Oh , oh , &c. Why then I perceive thou'●t not leave me in the lurch , I le don my best cloaths , and straight goe to Church . Jog on merry Colin , jog on before , For yfaith , yfaith I le dye no more . On an Old Woman . YEsterday I heard an old woman s●y , She had a great pain in her belly ; It was and a Cat , which caused that , And I am and ashamed to tell ye . The old woman she sat by the fire , And no body there to espy her , No body to see , but the cat and she , And she pull'd her coats up higher . She threw her legs asunder , And the cat she caught hold under . She had a thing there was , so like and a mouse That it made the cat to wonder . This thing it was not naked ; For a mouse the cat did take it ; O still it was so like and a mouse , That the cat would not forsake it . The old woman she cry'd out murder , And the cat she bit harder and harder , Oh quoth she , I fear I shall die Before I go any further . At this cry the neighbours did enter , And their skill and their strength they lent her ; At length they the cat , with much ado ga● From the bottom of th' old womans venter . The old woman she quaked and she quivered , and all her body shivered ; Quoth she I have often been brought to bed , But I never was thus delivered . A Colledge of Doctors . I pray Doctor Argent , a note in ●your margent , You are too far to have skill . But a little , God knows , doth serve for a Dose , Or on Apothecary's bill . You Dr. Tenant , that are a great Lieutenant Of Doctors with the Scots , I could tell you the cause , but I fear good wives pawes , Far more than your Gally-pots . And Doctor Taylor , a great prevailer , The favour of Ladyes to win . You tell-tales of pleasure , and to a haire take measure , Then put all honesty in . And Doctor Rawlins , for all your brawlings , You are but a scurvy leach , Poor , till 't was your chance , your self to advance By getting a widdow by th' bre●ch . Were he not a lyer , should say Doctor Fryer Did loue flesh more than skin ? Well now the old fool hath left the close-stool , Unto his Pupill Gugueen . Oh Dr. Elvin , though the hole you delv● in Be barren , and yeild no fruit ; 'T was a happy receit that made you to wait On the Black guard without a suit . Good Doctor Butler , like a Shefield Cutler , Your knife is in every sheath , Your brown bread chip fits a Ladyes l●p , You play not above , but beneath . For you Doctor Poe , your Physick's so , so , You plac'd your Clifter-pipe wrong , Though you cur'd Mrs. Rich of the leacherous itch . In the absence of spruice Mrs. Young . Whoop , whoop , Dr. Saul . what newes at Surgeons Hall ? The Simples that you use , You had them by rote from you Fathers old note , Or some Italian stewes . I know Doctor Li●ter , were 't his own sister , Must feel before he heale ; His reason is this , the pulse , more than pisse , Infirmities doth reveale . And a Doctor may feel , from head unto heel , To grope out healths decay ; Tell him of no shame , AEsculapius did the same , Health 's honest any way . What are you stirring , old Friend , Dr. H●rring ? 'T is physick to see you squint ; You creep like a snail , so hard bound ●'th ' tayle , That you sh●t as hard as a flint . How chance Dr. Torris now grown so sour is , Waxing weary of his life , 'T is because of the horn , why man think no scorn , The gain and pain comes by your wife . And Dr. Maben gives physi●k to women , They nev●r are begul'd ; Pills work apace , and he likes the place , That all of them prove with childe . Then Doctor Iordanus with porrige manus , What newes at Clerk●nwell : Here 's physick ●nd●ed , swea● , pu●ge ▪ & then bleed Most fitly , Doctor farewell . What have you got there , freind , Dr. Foster , A pricket or a sore ; Good faith t is your wife , now God save your life I thought it had been your whore . If there be a black Man Dr. Gifford's the man , My Muse abhors detractors ; From such I stand blest , for bad is the best , So farewell ba●dy Doctors . A SONG . FIne young folly , though you were That rare beauty , I did swear , Yet you nere came neare my heart ; For we Courtiers learn at schoole Onely with your sex to foole , You are not worth a serious part . When I sigh and kisse your hand , Crosse mine armes , and wondring stand , Holding parley with your eye , Next to dally with my desires , Sweare the Sun nere shot such ●ires ; All is but a handsome lye . When I eye your curled lace , Gentle soule , you think your face Streight some murther doth commit , When your conscience doth begin To grow scrupulous of sin , Then I court to shew my wit . Therefore , Madam , wear no cloud , Nor to check my love , grow proud ; For , in troth , I much do doubt 'T is the Powder in your haire , Not your breath , perfumes the aire : 'T is your cloathes that set you out . Yet for all this truth confest , And I swear I lov'd in jest : When I next begin to court , And protest an amorous flame . You 'll swear I in earnest●am . Beldame , this is pretty sport . On a Pinte-pot . 1. OLd Poets Hypocrene admire , And pray to Water to inspire Their Muses birth with heavenly fire ? Had they this seemly fountain seen , Sack both their Well and Muse had been , And this Pinte-pot their Hypocrene . 2. Had truly they considered it , They had , like me , thought it unfit , To pray to Water for their wit , And had ador'd Sack as divine , And made a Poet god of VVine , Then this Pinte-pot had been a shrine . 3. Sack unto them had been instead Of Nect●r , and the heavenly Br●●d , And every boy a G●nnimed . And had they made a God of it , And styl'd it Patron of their wit , This Pot had been a Temple fit . 4. Well then ( Companions ) is't not fit , Since to this Gem we owe our wit , That we should praise the Cabinet ? And drink a health to this divine mnd bounteour Palace of our VVine , Die he of thirst that doth repine ? On his deformed Mistress . ANd is not the Queen of Drabs , VVhose head is periwigg'd with scabs , VVhose hair● hangs down in curious flakes , Curled and crisp'd , like gentle snakes , The breath of whose perfumed locks Would choak the Devil , with a pox , VVhose dainty twinings did intice The whole monopoly of Lice , To her , who daily there are fed , The goodliest lice that ●re were bred ▪ Her fore-head next is to be found , Much like a piece of new-plough'd ground , Furrow'd with staires , whose winding lead Unto the ch●mney of her head . The next thing that my muse descryes , Are the two mill-pits of her eyes : Mill-pits , whose depth no heigth can sound , For there the God of Love was drown'd , On either side there was a souse , An Ear● , I mean kept open house , An care which alwaies there did dwell , And so the head kept sentinell , Which there was set for to descry , If any danger there was nigh : But I think danger there was bred , VVhich makes them so keep off her head . Something I 'm sure did cause their feares , Which makes them so to hang their cares : But hang her eares ; Thalia seeks To suck the bottles of her cheeks : Her cheeks ! who●e pride do make them rise , Contending to out face her eyes : Upon her cheeks I 'd longer stay , But that her nose calls me away . Her nose , on which all beauty s●e , Her Indian Ruby nose , that 's flat . Help Muses now I have begun , That like her nose my verse may run . Help , Fury's never given to flatter , I know her nose affordeth matter : For on her nose there hangs , I wot , A curious pearle of Chrystall snot , As purely white , as whitest rose , A dainty Gem for such a nose . But now , methinks , Thalia skip● , Intending to salute her lips : Although she feares her lips are such , 'T is almost p●in of death to touch : I 'd wish the Devil so much blisse , Those , daily to be damn'd , to kisse . But where shall I finde words enough To rake the kennel of her mouth ? Whose wryness , with a certain g●●ce Sets out the beauty of her face ; Whose dreaming gapings might afright The lust of Incubus at night , And Succubus might be afraid Hereafter to come near a maid , Where out in curiou● postures hung The spungy fly-flap of her tongue , As if that Nature did contrive To hang her , while she was alive . Her teeth were fix'd like Eagles clawes , Upon the ruines of her jawes , Which there were plac't like pikemen tall , Something inclining to the fall , Whose ripn'd age did yeild them mellow , The curious gold was not so yellow . I think she took them by descent From father Adam , whose intent was , that his teeth should be intail'd Unto his heirs , that never fail'd . Her chin a little lower stands Much like the cape of Bon esperance . Which Nature kind extended so , To point her way when she doth go . Come Muses at Apollo's beck ▪ And wreath a halter for her neck . Her neck was next , which might have bin A fit supporter for her chin . But Nature , to supply her lack , Has drawn her neck unto her back . The Hunters Song . 1. LOng ere the morn Expects the return Of Apollo , from the ocean Queen , Before the creak Of the Crow , and the break Of the Day , in the Welkin seen , Mounted he 'd hollow , And cheerfully follow To the Cha●● with his Bugle cle●r , Eccho he makes , And the mountaines shakes VVith the thunder of his Careere . 2. Now bonny Bay In his Son waxeth gray . Dapple gray waxeth bay in his blood : VVhite L●lly stops , VV●th the scent in her chops , And the black Lady makes it good . Poor silly Wat In this wretched state , Forgets these delights for to hear , Nimbly she bounds From the cry of the Hounds , And the musique of their Careere . 3. Hill● , with the heat Of the Gallopers sweat , Reviving their frozen ●ops , Dales purple flowers That springs with the showers , That down from the rowels drops , Swaines their repast And Strangers their hast , Neglect when the hornes they do hear , To see a fleet Pack of Hounds in a sheet , And the Hunter in his Careere . 4. Thus he careeres , Over moores , over meeres , Over deeps , over downs , over clay , Till he hath won The noon from the morn , And the evening from the day . Sports then he ends , And joyfully wends Home to his Cottage , where Frankly he feasts Himself and his guests , And carouses in his Careere . To his FRIEND ; A Censure of the Poets . MY dearly loved friend , how oft have we In winter evenings , meaning to be free ▪ To some well-chosen place us'd to retire , And there , with moderate meat & wine , & fire , Have pass'd the hours contentedly with chat , Now talk of this , and then discourse of that ? Spake our own Verses 'twixt our selves , if not , Other mens lines , which we by chance had got ; Or some stage pieces , famous long before , Of which your happy memory had store : And I remember you much pleased were , Of those that lived long ago to heare , As well as of those of those of later times , Who have enricht our Language with their Rimes ; And in succession how still up they grew , Which is the subject that I now pursue : For from my cradle , you must know , that I Was still inclin'd to noble Poesie ; And when that once Pueriles I had read , And newly had my Cato construed , In my sma●l self I greatly mervail'd then , Amongst all other , what strange kind of men Those Po●ts were , and pleased with the name , To my mild Tutor merrily I came : For I was ●hen a proper goodly Page , Much like a P●gmy , scarce ten yeares of age , Clasping my slander armes about his thigh , O my dear Master I cannot you , quoth I , Make me a Poet ? do it , if you can ▪ And you shall see I le quickly be a man : Who me thus answer'd smiling , Boy , quoth he , If you 'l not play the wag , but I may see You ply your learning , I will shortly read Some Poets to you , Ph●bus be my speed . To 't hard w●nt I , when shortly he began , And first read to m● honest Mantuan , Then Virgils Eclogues , being entred thus ▪ Methoughts I straight had mounted Pegasus , And in his full careere could make him stop , And bound upon Parnassus high clift top : I scorn●d your Ballad then , though it were done , And had for finis , William Elderton . But soft in sporting with this childish jest , I from my subject have too large digrest . Then to the matter that we took in hand , Iove and Apollo for the Muses stand , That noble Chaucer in those former times , That did enrich our English with his Rimes , And was the first of ours that ever brak● Into the Muses treasure , and first spake In weighty number , d●●ving in the Mine Of perfect knowledge , which he could refine , And coyn for currant , and as much as then The English Language could express to men ; He made to do onely his wondrous skill Gave us much light from his abundant quill : And honest Gower , who in respect of him , Had onely sipt at Aganippe's brim ; And though in yeares this last was him before , Yet fell he far short of the others store ; When after those four ages , very near , They with the Muses which conversed were . That princely Surrey , early in the time Of the eighth Henry , who was in the prim● Of England's noble youth , with him there cam Wyat with reverence , whom we still do name Amongst our Poets . Brian had a share With the two former , which accounted are The times best makers , and the authors were Of those small Poets , which the title bear● Of Songs and Sonnets , wherein oft they hit On many dainty passages of wit . Gascoign and Churchyard after them again , In the beginning of Eliza's raign , Accounted w●re great meeters many a day , But not inspired with brave fire , had they Liv'd but a little longer , they had seen Their works before them to have buried been . Grave Spencer shortly after th●se came on , Then whom I am perswaded there was none , Since the blind Bard his Iliads up did make , Fitter a task like that to undertake To set down boldly , bravely to inden● In all high knowledge finely excellent . The noble Sidney with this last arose , That H●ro for Numbers and for Prose , That through●y pac'd our Language ▪ 〈◊〉 to shew That plenteous English hand in hand might go With Greek and Latin , and did first reduce , Our tongues from Lilly's writing , then in use , Talking of Stones , Stars , Plants , of Fishes , Flies , Playing with Words and idle Similice , As th' English Apes , and very Zanie● be , Of every thing that they do hear and see ; So imitating his ridiculous tricks , They speak and write all like meer Lunaticks . Then Warner , though his lines were not so trimm'd , Nor yet his Poem so exactly limn'd , And neatly joynted ; but the Critick may Easily reprove him , yet thus let me say For my old friend , some passages there be , In which I doe protest ●hat I doe see , With almost wonder , so fine , cleare and new , As yet they have been equalled by few . N●xt Marlow bathed in the Thespian springs , Had in him those brave translunary things That your fi●st Poets had , his raptures were All aire and fi●e , which made his verses clear ; For that fine madnesse still he did retain , VVhich rightly should possesse a Poets brain . And surely Nash though he a Proser were A branch of Laurel , yet deserves to bear Sharply Satyrick was he , and that way He went , since that , his beeing to this day , Few have attempted , and I surely think Those words shall hardly be 〈◊〉 down in ink . Shall scorch and blast , so as his cold , when he Would inflict vengeance , and be it said of thee , Shakespeare , thou hadst a smooth & comid● vain , Fitting the ●ock , and in thy naturall brain As strange conception , and as clear a rage As any one that traffiqu'd with the stage . Amongst these Samuel Daniel , whom I May speak of , but censure do d●ny ▪ Onely have heard some wi●e men him rehearse , To be too much Historian in Verse ; His Rimes were smooth , his Meetres well did close , But yet his Mateers better fitted Pr●se . Next these , learn'd Iohnson in this List I bring , Who had drunk deep of the Pierian spring , Whose knowledge did him worthily prefer , And long was Lord here of the Theater , Who in opinion made our learn'dst to stick , Whether in Poems rightly dramatique : Strong Seneca or Pla●tus , he or they , Should bear the Buskin , or the Sock away . Others again , there lived in my dayes , That have of us deserved no lesse praise For their Translations , than the daintiest wit , That on Parnassus thinks he high doth sit , And for a cha●re may amongst the Muses call , As the most curious maker of them all : But as reverent Chapman , who hath brought to us Musaeus , Homer , and Hesiodus , Out of the Greek , and by his skill hath rear'd Them to that height , and to our tongue indear'd , That were those Poets at this day alive , To see their Books , that with us thus survive , They would think , having neglected them so long They had bin written in the English tongue ; And Silvester , who from the French more weak , Made Bartas on his six dayes labour , speak In naturall English , who , had he there been stay'd . He had done well , and never had bewray'd His own invention , to have been too poor , Who still writ lesse , in striving to write more . Then dainty Sands , that hath to English done , Smooth sliding Ovid , and hath made him one , With so much sweetness , and unusuall grace , As though the neatness of the English pace Should tell your setting Latin , that it came But slowly after , as though stiff or lame ; So Scotland sent us hither for our own , That man whose name I even would have known To stand by mine , that most ingenious Knight , My Alexander , to whom in his right , I want extreamly , yet in speaking thus , I do but shew that love that was 'twixt us , And not his numbers , which were brave & high , So like his minde , was his clear Po●sie : And my dear Drummond , to whom much I owe For his much love , and proud I was to know His Poesie , for which two worthy men , I Minstry still shall love , and Hauthornden : Then Beamont , Fletcher , and my Brown , arose , My dear Companions , whom I freely chose , My bosom-friends , and in their severall wayes Rightly born Poets , and in these last dayes , Men of much note , and no lesse nobler parts , Such as to me , as freely could their hearts As I turn mine to them , but if you shall Say in your knowledge , that these are not all Have writ in numbers , be inform'd that I Onely wy self to these few men do tye , Whose works oft printed , set on every post , To publique censure , subject have been most ; For such whose Poems , be they nere so rare , In private chambers that incloyster'd are , And by transcription daintily must go , As though the world unworthy were to know Their rich composures , let those men that keep These wondrous reliques in their judgements deep , And cry them up , so let such pieces be Spoke of by those that shall come after me : I passe not for them , nor do mean to run In quest of those , that their applause have won Upon our Stages in these later dayes , That are so many ; let them have the bayes That have deserved it ; let those wits that haunt Those publique circuits , may they freely chaunt Their fine composures , and their praise pursue , And so ( my dear friend ) for this time adieu . Reasons to Hate . PRethee die and set me free , Or else be Brisk and blithe , and gay like me . I pretend not , I pretend not to the wise ones , To the grave , nor the precise ones . Prethee why the room so dark ? Not a spark , For to light me to the mark ? I le have day-light , or a candle , For to see , For to see as well as handle . Prethee why these bolts and locks , Coats and smock● , And these drawers , with a pox ? I would have , could Nature make it , Nakednesse , Nakednesse it selfe more naked . There is neither art nor itch In thy breech , Nor provoking hand nor speech ; But when I expect a motion , Fast asleep , Fast asleep , or at devotion . If then a Mistresse I must have , Wise and grave , Let her so her self behave , All the day long Susan Civil , Pap by night , Pap by night , or some such Devil . Oh the most unhappy life , Full of strife , 'Twixt Sir Fredrick and his wife , For as true as I 'm a sinner , They have no They have no meat for their dinner . Duns his face looks old and ill , And yet still She struts and paints , and hopes to kill ; But if 't were not for her table , She were not , She were not considerable . Take a Lady in the grasse , Clap her — — her well and let her passe ; Upon the bed then let her tumble , Put it in , Put it in she 'l never grumble . King Arthur . WHen Arthur first in Court began , And was approved King a , He bought his wife a peck of m●●l● To make a bag pudding a. When Arthur first in Court began , His men wore hanging sleev●● a , If all be true that I have heard , They were three errant theeves a. The first he was a Miller good , The second he was a Weaver a , The third he was a Taylor good , And they were three theeves together a. The Miller he stole Grist enough , The Weaver he stole Yarn a , The Taylor he stole good broad Cloath To keep these three theeves warm a. When Arthur first in Court began , And was approved King a , He kickt the Fidlers out of doores Because they could not sing a. Constant Affection . SEt forty thousand on a row , My Love will make the greatest shew ; But I for my part have chosen one , And I le have my Love , or I le have none . I bought my Love a paire of shoon As black as jet , with shooties blew ; She put them on , and away she 's flown , Yet I le have , &c. Into some far Countrey I le go , And pine my self with care and woe , And sigh to think what I have done , Yet I le have , &c. For who can love so true as I , Who am more than sick , yet cannot die ? My heart is broke , my delight is gone , Yet I le have , &c. And when my love she thus hath try'd , I 'm sure her self she 'l nere abide , But finde me out , and bring me home , Then I le have , &c. Theodora . MY Theodora , Can those eyes , From which those glories shine , Give light to every soule that pryes , And onely be obscur'd to mine ? Who willingly my heart resign , Enflam'd by you to be your sacrifice . Let but one ray inrich my soule , And chase this gloomy shade That doth in clouds about me rowle , And in my breast a hell hath made , Where fire still burns still flames invade , And yet light 's power & comfort doth controul . Then out of gratitude I le send Some of my flames to thee . Thus lovingly our wits we 'l blend , And both in Joyes shall wealthy be , Then Love , though blinde , shall learn to see , Since you can eyes to me and Cupid land . A Song made when King Charles was at Plymouth . 1. A Riddle a Riddle me neighbor Iohn ▪ Whore ich c have late a been a ? Me c have a been to Plymouth mon , The leck was nere a zeen a ; Zuch streets , zuch men , zuch hugiou● zea● , And Guns , with things that tumbling , Thy zell wea me , would blesse to zee Zuch bomination jumbling . 2. The streets ore-laid with shindle stone , Do glysney leck the zea a , Brays shops stand open ole day long , Ich think a Vare , that bee a. And many a gallant man ther goeth In goold , that zaw the King a ; The King , zom zware , himzell was thar , A Mon , or zom zuch thing a. 3. Amidst the zeas wear vleeing burd , And wooden houzes zwim a , As vull of goods , as ich have hard , Wea men up to the brim a : the venter to another world , Desiring to conquer a , Vor thar hugh Guns ar divilish ones , Do dunder and spa● veer a. 4. Voole , thou that haft no water past , But that below the Moore a , To zee the zea woudst be agast , It do zo rage and roare a. It is zo zolt , thy tongue would think The veer war in the water ; It is zo wide no lond's espide , Look nare zo long tharater . 5. Thick water vro the Element , None can discern che vor a , It zeemeth low , yet ole do ze 'T is higher than the Moore a : 'T is strange how looking up the cleve , Man shud look downward rather , And if tha chad not zeet my zell , Chud scarce beleev'd my vather . 6. Oh neighbor Iohn , how var is that ? Our Mizen ●ar I hill leave a , I hill mop no longer there , that 's vlat , To wash a zheep , or zeer a , Tho it zo var as London be , Which is ten miles cha magin , I hill thither his , and thick place I , I hill hold in great in dudgine . Against Fruition . STay here ( fond youth ) and ask no more , be wise , Knowing too much , long since lost Paradise : The vertuous joyes thou hast , thou would'st should still Last in their pride , and would'st not take it ill , If rudely from sweet Dreames , and for some Toy Th'wert wak'd ? he makes himself that does injoy . Fruition addes no new wealth , but destroyes , And while it pleases much , the palate cloyes . VVho thinks he is the happier for that , As reasonably might hope he should grow fat . By eating unto surfeit this once past , VVhat relishes ? Even kisses lose their taste : Urge not as necessary ; alas we know , The homeliest thing which mankinde does , is so . The world is of a vast extent we see , And must be peopled ; Children then must be , So must be bread to , but since there are enow Born to the drudgery ; what need we plow ? VVomen enjoy'd , whatsoer's before t'have been Are like Romances read , or Playes once seen ; Fruition 's dull , and spoyles the Play much more , Than if we read , or knew the plot before . 'T is Expectation makes a Blessing deare , It were not heaven , if we knew what it w●re . And as in Prospects we are then pleas'd most , When something keeps the eye from being lost And leaves us room to guesse , to hear restrain● , Hold up delight , that with excesse would faint . They who know all the wealth they have , are poore , He 's truly rich , that cannot tell his store . A SONG . ALl you that desire to merry be , Come listen unto me , And a story I shall tell , Which of a Wedding befell , Between Arthur of Bradley And Winifred of Madly . As Arthur upon a day Met Winifred on the way , He took her by the hand , Desiring her to stand , Saying I must to thee recite A matter of weight , Of Love , that conquers Kings , In grieved hearts so rings , And if thou do'st love thy Mother , Love him that can love no other . Which is Oh brave Arthur , &c For in the month of May , Maidens they will say , A May-pole we must have , Your helping hand we crave . And when it is set in the earth , The maids bring Sully-bubs forth ; Not one will touch a sup , Till I begin a cup . For I am the end of all Of them , both great and small . Then tell me yea , or nay , For I can no longer stay . With oh brave Arthur , &c. Why truly Arthur quoth she , If you so minded be , My good will I grant to you , Or any thing I can do . One thing I will compell , So ask my mothers good will ▪ Then from thee I never will flye , Unto the day I do dye . Then homeward they went with speed , Where the mother they met indeed . Well met fair Dame , quoth Arthur , To move you I am come hither , For I am come to crave , Your daughter for to have , For I mean to make her my wife , And to live with her all my life . With oh brave Arthur , &c. The old woman shreek'd and cry'd , And took her daughter aside , How now daughter , quoth she , Are you so forward indeed , As for to marry he , Without consent of me ? Thou never saw'st thirteen year , Nor art no● able , I fear , To take any over-sight , To rule a mans house aright . Why truly mother , quoth she , You are mistaken in me ; If time do not decrease , I am fifteen yeares at least . With oh brave Arthur , &c. Then Arthur to them did walk , And broke them of their talk , I tell you Dame , quoth he , I can have as good as thee ; For when death my father did call , He then did leave me all His barrels and his brooms , And a dozen of woden spoones , Dishes six or seven , Besides an old spade , even A brasse pot and whimble , A pack-needle and thimble , A pudding prick and reele , And my mothers own sitting wheele ; And also there fell to my lot A goodly mustard pot . With oh brave Arthur , &c. The old woman made a rep●y , With courteous modesty , If needs it must so be , To the match I will agree . For death doth m● call , I then will leave her all ; For I have an earthen flaggon , Besides a three-quart noggin , With spickets and fossets five , Besides an old bee hive ; A wooden ladle and maile , And a goodly old clouting paile ; Of a chaff bed I am well sped , And there the Bride shall be wed , And every night shall wear A bolster stufft with haire , A blanket for the bride , And a winding sheet beside , And hemp , if he will it break , New curtaines for to make . To make all too , I have Stories gay and brave . Of all the world so fine , With oh brave eyes of mine . With oh brave Arthur , &c. When Arthur his wench obtained , And all his suits had gained , A joyfull man was he , As any that you could see . Then homeward he went with speed , Till he met with her indeed . Two neighbours then did take To bid guests for his sake ; For dishes and all such ware , You need not take any care . With oh brave , &c. To the Church they went apace , And wisht they might have grace , After the Parson to say , And not stumble by the way ; For that was all their doubt , That either of them should be out . And when that they were wed , And each of them well sped , The Bridegroom home he ran , And after him his man , And after him the Bride , Full joyfull at the tyde , As she was plac'd betwixt Two yeomen of the Guests , And he was neat and fine , For he thought him at that time Sufficient in every thing , To wait upon a King . But at the doore he did not miss To give her a smacking kiss . With oh brave Arthur , &c. To dinner they quickly gat , The Bride betwixt them sat , The Cook to the Dresser did call , The young men then run all , And thought great dignity To carry up Furmety . Then came leaping Lewis , And he call'd hard for Brewis , Stay , quoth Davy Rudding , Thou go'st too fast with th' pudding . Then came Sampson Seal , And he carry'd Mutton and Veal ; The old woman scolds full fast , To the Cook she makes great hast , And him she did controul , And swore that the Porridge was cold . With oh brave , &c. My Masters a while be brief , Who taketh up the Beef ? Then came William Dickins , And carries the Snipes & Chickens . Bartholmew brought up the Mustard , Caster he carry'd the Custard . In comes Roger Boore , He carry'd up Rabbet● before : Quoth Roger I le give thee a C●ke , If thou wilt carry the Drake . Speak not more nor less , Nor of the greatest mess , Nor how the Bride did carve , Nor how the Groom did serve . With oh brave Arthur , &c. But when that they had din'd , Then every man had Wine ; The maids they stood aloof , While the young men made a proof , VVho had the nimblest heele , Or who could dance so well , Till Hob of the hill fell over , And over him three or four , Up he got at last , And forward about he past ; At Rowland he kicks and grins , And he William ore the shi●s ; He takes not any offence , But fleeres upon his wench . The Piper he play'd Fadding , And they ran all a g●dding . With oh brave Arthur , &c. A SONG . 1. THe fourteenth of September I very well remember , When people had eaten and fed full , Many men , they say , Would needs go see a Play , But they saw a great rout at the red Bull . 2. The Soldiers they came , ( The blinde and the lam● ) To visit and undo the Players ; And women without Gowns , They said they would have Crowns ; But they were no good Sooth-sayers . 3. Then Io : Wright they met , Yet nothing could get , And Tom Iay●' th' same condition : The fire men they Wou'd ha' made 'em a prey , But they scorn'd to make a petition . 4. The Minstrills they Had the h●p that day , ( Well fare a very good token ) To keep ( from the chase ) The fiddle and the case , For the instruments scap'd unbroken . 5. The poor and the rich , The whore and the bitch , Were every one at a losse , But the Players were all Turn'd ( as weakest ) to the wall , And 't is thought had the grea●●st losse . You must supppose it to be Easter holidayes ; for now Sisly and Doll , Kate and Peg , Moll and Nan , are marching to Westminster with two Prentices before them , who goe swinging their Muckenders in one hand , and now and then give a wipe to their greazy foreheads : at the door they meet a crowd of Wapping Sea-men , Kent-street Broom-men , together with the inhabitants of the Bank-side , with a Butcher or two prickt in among them ; There a while they stand gaping for the Master of the Show ; presently they hear the keyes ring , which rejoyces them more than the sound of the Pancake-bell ; and he peeping over the sp●kes , and beholding such a learned Auditory , opens the gates of Paradise , and by that time they are half got into the first Chappel ( for you must consider they cannot go all in at once , and the man he 's in hast ) he lifts up his voyce among the Tombs , and begins his lurry in manner and form following . HEre lyes William de Valence , A right good Earl of Pambroke , And this is his Monument which you s●● , I le swear upon a Book . He was High Marshall of England , When Harry the third did raign Full out four hundred yeares from hence , But he 'll nere be so again . Here the Lord Edward Talbot lyes , The Earle of Shrewsbury , Together with his Countess faire , Whom he did ocupy . The next to him there lyeth one Sir Richard Peckeshal hight , Of whom we alwayes first do say , He was a Hampshire Knight . And now to tell you more of him There lyes under this Stone His two wives , and his daughters four , Of whom I knew not one . Sir Bernard Brockhurst there doth lye , Lord Chamberlain to Queen Anne , She was Richard the second's queen , And he was King of Englan . Sir Francis Hollis ; the Lady Francis , The sam● was Suffolk's Dutchess , Two children of Edward the third , Here lye in Death's cold clutches . This is King Edward the third's brother , Of whom our Records tell Nothing of note , nor say they whether He be in heaven or hell . This same is Iohn of Eldeston , And he was Earl of Cornwall , This is the Lady Phillis Mohun , No doubt but she made horns well . At first she was Dutchess of York , And then the Wife also Of Edward Duke of York : and this Two hundred and thirty years ago . The Lady Anne Rosse , but note ye well , That she in Childbed dy'd ; The Lady Marquess of Winchester Lyes buried by her side . Now think your penny will spent good folks , And that you are not beguil'd , Within this cup doth lye the heart Of a French Embassador's childe . Nor can I tell how it came to passe , On purpose , or by chance , The bowels they lye underneath , The body is in France . The Countess of Oxford & her mother , The good old Lady Bourleigh , And that 's her daughter , another Countesse , Asunder these not far lye . These once were bonny Dames ; and though There were no coaches then , Yet they their breeches jogg'd themselves , Or had them jogg'd by men . But wo is me , those high-born sinners That wont to work so stoutly , Are now laid low , and 'cause they cann't , Their Statues pray devoutly . This is the Dutchess of Somerset , The Lady Anne by name , Wife to the Duke of Somerset , Duke Edward of great fame . She liv'd in Edward the sixt's time , So long ago 't was since , How long ago was that , I pray ? Her Husband protected the Prince . And underneath this stone doth lye Sir Robert Cecils L●dy low . Mother to th' Earl of Salisbury ; And then cry'd one , It may be so : In this fair Monum●nt which you see Adorn'd with so many pillars , Doth lye the Countess of Buckingham And her Husband , Sir George Villers . To the late Duke of Buckingham , ( We nere spake of his Brother ) This old Sir George was Grandfather , And the Countess his Grandmother , Sir Robert Eatam a Scotch Knight , And he was Secretary To both of our late Queens so great , Queen Anne , and then Queen Mary . This was the Countess of Lenox , Iclep'd the Lady Marget , She was King Iames's Grandmother , Which Death I doubt did forget . This was Queen Mary , Queen of Scots , By more then her husband bedded ▪ King Iames's Grandmother at the Castle Of Fothringham beheaded . The Mother of Henry the seventh This is , that lyeth hard by ; She was the Countess , know ye well , Of Richmond and Darby . Henry the seventh here doth lye , VVith his fair Queen beside him , He was the Founder of this Chappel , Oh may no ill betide him ! Therefore his Monument 's in bras● , The cost was nere the lesse ; The Duke of Richmond and Lenox , Lies there with his Dutchess . And here they stand upright in a presse , With bodies made of wax , With a globe and a wand in either hand And their robes upon their backs . General Ireton and his Lady Are here the spoyles of Death ; And also two of his children ; This must be said in a breath . Here lyes the Duke of Buckingham , And the Dutches his wife , Whom Felton stabb'd at Portsmouth town , And so he lost his life . Two children of King Iames these are , Nor do our Records vary , Sophia in the cradle lies , And this is the Lady Mary . And this is Queen Elizabeth , How the Spaniards did infest her ; Her Body 's here bury'd with Queen Mary , And now she agrees with her Sister , Old Devereux , Earle of Essex , Stands there with his Buff coat , The Parliaments first Generall , And very stoutly he fought . To another Chappel now come we ; Tho people follow and chat . This is the Lady Cottington , And the people cry , WHO 's THAT ? This is the Lady Francis Sidney , The Countess of Sussex is she , And this the Lord Dudley Carleton is , And then they look up and see . Sir Thomas Bromley lyeth here , And eight of his children , Four daughters , and four sons also , Both women grown and men . The next is Sir Iohn Fullerton , And this is his Lady I trow , And this is Sir Iohn Puckering , With his fine Bed-fellow . That in the middle is th' Earl of Bridgewater , Who makes no use of his bladder , Although his Countesse lye so nere him : And so we go up a ladder . King Edward the first a gallant blade , Lies under-neath this Stone ; And this is the chair which ●e did bring , A good while ago , from Scone , In this same Chair , till now of late , Our Kings and Queens were crown'd ; Vnder this Chair another stone Doth lye upon the ground . On that same stone did Iacob sleep , Instead of a Down pillow ; And after that 't was hither brought By some good honest fellow . King Richard the second he lyes here ; And his first Queen , Queen Anne . Edward the third lyes here hard by , Oh he was a gallant man . For this was his two-handed Sword , A blade both true and trusty , With which he conquer'd France ; cries one , Good Sir 't is very rusty . Feel but the weight on 't in your hand ; Who now with this can fight ? And then the petticoats and wastcoats , Do wonder at his might . Here a lyes again with 's Queen , Queen Philip , A Dutch woman by Record , But that 's all one , for now alas , His P-'s not so long as his Sword . King Edward the Confessor lyes Within this Monument fine ; This Monument was made before William the Conqueror's time . There lyes Harry the fifth , and there Doth lye Queen Elenor ; She was Edward the first's wife , Which is more than ye knew before . Henry the third here lyes ●n●omb'd He was Herb John in Pottage , Little he did , but still reigned on , Although his sons were at ag● . Fifty six yeares he reigned King , Ere he the Crown would lay by , Onely we praise him , 'cause he was Last builder of the Abbey . There 's General Popham , and his Lady , A very fine device a , If more ye ask concerning him , The D. a jot can I say . Here Thomas Cecil lyes , who 's that ? Why 't is the Earle of Exeter , And this his Countesse is ; Good Lady , To die how it perplexed her . Here Henry Cary , Lord Hunsdon rests , Though a makes a noyse with his name ; This man was Chamberlain unto Queen Elizabeth , of great fame . And here one William Colchester Lyes , of a certainty , An Abbot he was of Westminster , And he that sayes no , doth lye . This is the Bishop of Durham , Much bigger then a Fairie , Henry the seventh lov'd him well , And made him his Secretary . Sir Thomas Ruthal , what of him ? Poor Gentleman , not a word , Onely they bury'd him here ; but now Behold that man with a sword . Humphrey de Bohun , who though he were Norborn with me in the same town , Yet I can tell he was Earl of Essex , Of Hereford , and Northampton . He was High Constable of England , As History well expresses , But now pretty maids be of good cheere , We 're going up to the Presses . And now the Presses open stand , And ye see them all a row , But more is never said of these , Than what is said below . Henry the seventh and his fair Queen , Edward the first and his Queen , Henry the fifth here stands upright , And his good wife was this queen , The noble Prince , Prince Henry , King Iames's eldest Son , King Iames , Queen Anne , Qu. Elsabeth , And so this Chappel's done . Now down the staires come we againe , The man goes first with a staff , Perchance one tumbles down two steps , And then they all do laugh . This is the great Sir Francis Vere , That so the Spaniards curry'd ; Four Colonels support his Arms , And here h●s body's bury'd . That Statu against the wall with one ey , Is Major Generall Norrice ; He beat the Spaniards cruelly , As is affirm'd in Stories . His six sons there hard by him stand , Each one was a Commander , And play'd such pranks as nere was known , To rescue the Hollander . And there doth Sir George Hollis rest , Brother to th' Earle of Clare , For which when first they tell me , One louse I doe not care . But he hath something else to fame him , For he was Major Generall To Sir Iohn Norrice , that brave blade . And so they go to dinner all . For now the Shew is at an end , All things are done and said ; The Citizen payes for his wife , And the Prentice for the maid . When th' are got out , they stare about , And they spie against the wall One with a pole-ax in his hand , The greatest foole of all . For he his Land did give away , But no man knowes wherefore , And he made the Common-wealth his Heire , Like Flora the great Whore . A Pastorall Song . 1. A Silly poor Sheepherd was folding his sheep , He walked so long , he got cold in his feet , He laid on his coales by two and by three , The more he laid on The cuc-colder was he . 2. But alas , good wife what shall we do now ? To buy some more fewell We 'll sell the brown cow , To buy some more coales , to warm thee and me ; But the more he laid on the cuc-colder was he . 3. Some sheepherds , quoth she , themselves can warm keep , By fleecing their flock , and by folding their sheep , But when you come home with your tar-box & crook , It grieves me to see how cuc-cold you doe look . 4. Alas ( wife ) I walk through dew , dirt and mire , While you perhaps warm your self without fire , With a friend in a corner , in such a sort , as whereby , The warmer you are , the cuc-colder am I. A Medly . 1. I Sow'd my Seed In a pleasant Field , And it grew apace ; A blessed Harvest There was found , To my disgrace ; And for to reap it I durst not stay . My seed is sown , I 'm overthrown , I must run away . 2. To climb a tree Where no boughes be , But smooth withall . I fain would enter , But I dare not venter For fear of fall . But above her knees Sir you may not go , For being a stranger , You may not ranger , There will come danger in climbing so . 3. Her milk white brest , So neatly drest , And all things neat , Her leg and foot , And all things to 't , Were made compleat , VVith her yellow haire , sir , when she wa● young That when I kist her , Her eyes did glister As 't were the Sun . A Medly . COme all you Maids that list to marry , And you that Husbands want , I wish you not long to tarry , For Husbands are grown scant . Some are grown provident , And others all for riches , That well is she that is content With the linings of one's — . Breed up your children to schoole , For that 's the best way to teach you●● And let them not play the foole , But let them consider the truth . For Girles they will caper and kick , Oh how they will range about , And a wench that is fifteen yeares old Good Lord how she longs for a — Prick her out her work , And let her Bone-lace weave . For when that you most think of them , They will you most deceive . And you shall never gain a penny , But still they will be plucking ▪ And think that they shall never have Their bellies full of — . Furmity is dainty cheere , And Fish it must be spent Sir , But H. doth swear he 'd rather have The belly of a pretty — . Wenches ye do me great wrong . Which makes me the ruffer to wrinkle , And had I not been very strong . She had caught fast hold of my — . Pinching doth not go by strength , Therefore you must leave off Sir , If you had seen her lye at length , Then you had seen brave sport Sir . Brave Iack of Winchester had a fine dog , The finest that ever was seen , He gave it to his Mistress To bear her company . This Dog was u●'d to run by her side , When she was going to hunt , And all the night long it lay in the bed A lick●ng about her — . Come hu●band , away with this filthy curre , It makes my fl●sh to rise , He left off all , and to her did fall , And slipt between her — Thine or mine , for a pinte of wine , And we 'l have it for supper : Had you but seen her stretcht at length , How strongly he did — her . The Ioviall Tinker . THere was a Lady in this Land , She lov'd a Gentleman , She could not tell what excuse to make To have him now and then . But writ a Letter to him , And seal'd it with her hand , Bid him become a Tinker , To clout both pot and pan . And when he had the Letter , Full well he could it read , His Brass and his Budget Then strait did he provide . His Hammer and his Pinsors , And well they did agree , With a long Club on his back , And orderly came he . And when he came to th' Ladies gates He knocked most hastily● Then who is there , the Porter sayes , That knocks thus ruggedly ? I am a ●oviall Tinker , And I work for gold and fee , If you have any broken brasse Bring it here unto me . I am the joviall'st tinker Betwixt this town and London , At mending of a pot or pan , Or clouting of a Caldron . My Brass is in my Budget , And my Rivets under my Apron , I pray you tell her Ladysh●p I am come to clout her Caldron . Madam yon is the strongest tinker Betwixt this town and London , He prayes me tell your Ladyship He is come to clout your Caldron . O go thy wayes good Porter , And let the tinker in , For I have work for him to do , And money he may gain . And when he came into the hall , Upon him she did wink , Sayes take him into the buttery , And make the knave to drink . Such meat as we do eat , she sayes , And such drink as I use , For it is not any Tinkers guise Good liquor to refuse . She took the Tinker by the hand , Her work for him to show , And down fast by the Caldron side Laid he the Lady low . And gave to her a hammer All in her hand to knock — That her own wedded Lord might think The Tinker was at work . She put her hand into her purse , And pluckt out five good Mark , Said , take thee this good Tinker , And for thy good days work ; She took the Tinker by the hand , Her wedded Lord to show , Sayes , here is the joviall'st tinker That ever I did know . This is the joviall'st tinker , And the dearest of his work , For he 'll not drive a nail to th' head , But he must have a Mark . If you had been so wise Mad●m , As I had thought you had bin , Before you had set him on work You would have agreed with him . Pray hold your peace , good wedded Lord , Think not of his work too dear , For if you could do it but half so well , 'T would save forty Mark a year . And be not thou too long tinker , And look not for any sending , For if thou stay too long away My Caldron will want mending . The admirable Song of Tom and VVill . TOm and Will were Sheepherds swaines , Who lov'd and liv'd together . When faire Pastora grac'd their Plain● , Alas , why came she thither ? For though they fed two severall Flocks , They had had but one Desire ; Pastora's eyes and Amber locks Set both their hearts on fire . Tom came of a gentle race , By father and by mother ; Will was noble , but ( alas ) He was a younger brother . Tom was toysom , Will was s●d , No Huntsman nor no Fowler ; Tom was held the properer lad , But Will the better bowler . The scorching flames their hearts did bear , They could no longer smother , Although they knew they Rivalls were , They still lov'd one and other . The scorching flames their heat did bear , They could no longer smother , Although they knew they Rivalls were , They still lov'd one another . Tom would drink her health , and swear ▪ This Nation could not want her ; Will would take her by the haire , And with his voyce inchant h●r . Tom kept alwayes in her sight , And nere forgot his duty , Tom was witty , and could write Sweet Sonnets on her beauty . Thus did she handle Tom and Will , Who both did dot● upon her , For graciously she us'd them still , And still preserv'd her honour . Yet she was so sweet a S●e , And of so sweet behaviour , That Tom thought he , and Will thought he Was chiefest in her favour . Pastora was a lovely Lass , And of a comely feature , Divinely good and faire she was , And kinde to every creature . Of favour she was provident , And yet not over-sparing , She gave no lesse incouragement , Yet kept men from despairing . Which of these two she loved best , Or whether she loved either , 'T is thought they will finde it to their cost , That she indeed lov'd neither . She dealt her favours equally , They both were well contented ; She kept them both from jealousie , Nor easily prevented . Tale ▪ telling fame hath made report Of faire Pastora's beauty , Pastora's sent for to the Court , There to perform her duty . Unto the Court Pastora's gone , It had been no Court without her , Our Queen 'mongst all her train hath none , Nor half so fair about her . Tom hung his dog , and threw away His sheep-hook and his wallet ; Will burst his pipes , and curst the day That ere he made a Sonnet . Their nine-pins and their bowles they brake , Their joyes were turn'd to teares , 'T is time for me an end to make , Let them go shake their eares . A Song . 1. CLoris forbear a while , do not ore-joy me ; Urge not another smile , le●t thou destroy me . That beauty pleaseth most , and is soonest taken , Which is soon won , soon lost , kindly forsaken . I love a coming Lady , faith I do , And now & then would have her scornful too . 2. O cloud those eyes of thine ; bo-p●ep thy feature , Warm'd with an April slime , scorch not the creature . Thus to display thy ware ; thus to be fooling , Argues how rude you are in Cupids schooling . Disdain begets a shent , scorn , draws me nigh , 'T is 'cause I would , and cann't make me try . 3. Cloris I would have thee wise , when Gallants woo thee , And courtship thou despise , fly those pursue thee . Fast moves an appetite , make hunger greater , What 's stinted oft delights , falls to the better ▪ Be kindly coy betimes , be smoothly rough , And buckle now and then , and that 's enough . A Song . 1. UNderneath the Castle wall The Queen of Love sits mourning A tiring of her golden hair , Her red-rose cheek adorning ; VVith a lilly-white hand she smote her brest , And said she was quite forsaken , VVith that the Mountains fell a leaping , And the Fidlers fell a qu●king . 2. Underneath a rotten hedge The Pedlars wife sits shiting , A tearing of a Cabadge leaf , Her shitten arse a wiping . VVith a coale black hand she wipt her ars , And said her fingers were beshit●en ; VVith that the mountains stood still , And the Fidlers fell a spitting . 3. The first beginning was , Sallingers Round , VVhere the Cow leapt over the moon , And the good wife sh●● in the piss-pot , And the cream ran into her shoon . With hey stitch your nose in her breech , And turn about knaves all three , And we 'l have another as good as the tother , If you 'l be rul●d by me . 4. My sister went to market To buy her a taffety hat , Before she came there her arse lay bare , Lay you your lips to that . Hey stitch , your nose , &c. 5. The Fidler play'd his wife a dance , And there sprang up a rose , The Butcher bit his wife by the arse , And she beshit his nose . Hey stitch , your nose , &c. 6. Cisly shit in the wood-yard , And it flue East and VVest , Cisly shit in the wood-yard , And the plainest way was best . It was well known to all her friends She made good pudding-pies , Up she start and let a fart , The syrop ran down her thighes . 7. Fortune my foe hath stoln away my Bacon , And powdred Beef and Mustard my mouth hath quite forsaken ; VVhich makes me fall unto my Bread & Cheese ; O help strong Beer & Ale , or else my life I leese . A Song in the praise of ALE . NOr drunken nor sober , but neighbor to both I lately walkt down in a dale , A freind by the way desired me to stay , And speak in the praise of a pot of good Ale . But yet to commend it I dare not begin , Lest thereby my judgement may happen to faile , Because many men do account it a sin To speak in the praise of a pot of good Ale . But yet by your leave , when troubles arise , And sorrow and care the heart doth assaile , The best help to be found is to toss the pot round , And to wash away care with a pot of good Ale . It m●kes a man merry , and full of conceits , And as good as a Piper , where musick doth fail ; He that soundly drinks , no harm ever thinks ; But loves to commend a pot of good Ale . The old wife whose teeth wag as fast as her tail , Though old age by nature be feeble and fraile , She 'l frisk & she 'l fling , and she 'l make the house ring , If sh● be but inspir'd with a pot , &c. The Ploughman , the Lab'rer , the Thresher likewise , That worketh all day for a groat with his flail● , Speaks of no less things , then of Queens and of Kings , If he once be inspir'd with a pot , &c. The man that hath a black blous to his wife , In her face as much favour as is in her taile VVhen he comes home at night , will swear she shines bright , If he shine first with a pot , &c. VVith that my friend said to me , come let us go , Thy long staying here hath made thee look pale ; VVe 'l have six pots more though we die on the score . And so they went back to the pot of good Ale . How Daphne payes his Debts . DAphne was Poet to the Queen , And he caught her by the Mony ; But afterwards he met with a Lass , And he caught her by the Cony . She felt him please her then so well , For he was in his prime , She see a mark upon his face , To know him another time . He feeling England then so hot , In England would not tarry , But made him a Barque , to Maryland All his estate to carry . This Barque was taken by a Frigot ; Where was poore Daphne then ? For Daphne , you know , could never fight , And I doubt none of his men . Then Daphne to the Tower must go , Where he did fall to writing The life and death of a certain King , That did delight in fighting . But city Dun distur'b him then , And cri●s , Discharge your debt sir , But he reply'd with cap in hand , I beg your patience you sir . My patience yet , quoth he again , Why how long shall y● stay ? But unto this months and , quoth he . But he meant untill dooms day . From Cou●try then another came , And payment him bese●ches , But Daphne onely makes a leg , And gives him some fai● speeches . Quoth ●e , I now have made my book , A fam'd Heroick Poem , For which I 'm promis'd so ●●ny pounds , That I know not where to bestow em . But when this book it did come forth As some have given ●●i●●ing , The gains of his pitifull Poetry Scarce paid for paper & printing At the months end they come again , Molesting him like Devils . Well now I le pay ye all , quoth he , I must be master o' th' Revels . The State hath promis'd this to me , As the Clerk of the Parliament saith , And I hope that you will do as I do , Believe the PVBLIQVE FAITH . Already I have hir'd a house , Wherein to sing and dance ; And now the Ladies shall have Masques Made a la m●d●de France . This house was Pothecaries Hall , I tell to him that asks ; Because of a meeting that was there , Which he said was one of his Masques . If there you finde him not come to S. Ione●'s , Where his next house is hiring , And if you come quickly , you shall see The Players themselves attiring . For surely he doth play , but must Be watched like Bacons head , Time is , Time was , but still you come When the Time past is said . I can tell y' of more of 's houses , one In fields of Lincolns Inne , Another in Drury Lane : and thus Daphne will never lin — . Thus little you think that Daphne hath A Play with you begun , Which is the cause you interrupt him , Ere the fifth Act be done . Now the fifth Act is never done , Till th' Exit all fulfill ; Let him but make his Exit first , And then do what you will . Yet Daphne , if they still molest thee , Faith , in the minde I 'm in , I 'd do as Players use to do , Pay my great summes in tin . Or as that you do play with them . Think that they play with you , Conceit you owe them nought , you know How much Conceit will do . Now in these houses he hath men , And cloathes to make them trim ; For six good friends of his laid out Six thousand pounds for him . Then Daphne he will get at least A hundred pounds a day : Why I think the Devil 's in you all , Cann't you one minute stay ? If this won't do , but ye resolve With Bayliffs for to founder him , Yet let this blunt your cholers edge , Ye shall have places under him ; His Landlord he shall have a copy Of some new Masque , or so , For which though he may largely crave , Let him use some conscience though . The taylor shall the wardrobe keep , And now and then steale a suit , Draper shall keep the half Crown boxes For Gentlemen of repute . His Landress , 'cause she washes well , And kisses with a good smack o , Shall have a Shedd wherein to sell Strong Ale and foule Tobacco . Nor ben't such Infid●lls to think This time will nere be found ; For he that builds castles in the aire Can build a house o' th' ground . Therefore pray set your hearts at rest , And do not wrack the poore , But if he pay not in two yeares time , I le nere speak for him more . VVilly is gone to the Wood . A SONG . WIlly's gone to the wood , to the wood , to the wood . Willy's gone to the wood , thither go I ; And if thou wilt lay me down , lay me down , lay me down , If thou wilt lay me down , loud will I cry , Oh , oh , uf , oh , oh , uf , oh , oh , uf , oh , oh , Oh my Love , oh my Love ; Who leads such a life like to Willy and I ? Willy rides all the night , all the night , all the night , Willy rides all the night , he cannot lye , But he must see his Love , kis his Love , woo his Love , But he must feel his Love as he pass by . With oh , oh , &c. None leads a life like to Willy and I. I met with my Love a going to a Fayer , He kindly imbrac'd me , ask'd what I did there ; Then presently I told him , I would not him deny , For I will love Willy untill I die . With oh , oh , &c. Who is so quaint as Willy and I ? I met with Willy i' th' midst of the green , He told me he lov'd me , yet would not be seen , Then sweetly he laid me down , I cry'd oh fie , fie , fie , For I love Willy untill I die . With oh , oh , &c. None leads a life like to Willy and I. A Song . YOu young men that want skill in wooing , And have a desire to be wed , Take councel of me in your doing , For fear lest you should be m●sled . Do not my kind proffer refuse , 'T will never you deceive , 'T will teach you what woman to chuse , And what creature you'd best for to leave . In the first place I do you advise , Take one nor too high nor too low , But according unto your owne size , That you may her true qualities know . Take one nor too young , nor too old , Take one nor too fat nor too lean ; 'T is a bad thing to meet with a scold , 'T is a worse thing to meet with a quean . Nor take not one that 's too proud , Nor one that 's a du●ty foul slut ; The one the will babble too loud , And the other will poyson the gut . Chiefly I would wish you beware A wench with a rowling eye ; For she that will couzen and sweare , Will also dissemble and lye . She that has her hair a bright yellow , And tresses like weavers of gold , If she meet with some pretty fellow , Her husband may chance be cuckold . But she that 's by nature compos'd With round cherry cheeks and red haire , If she be pink ey'd and long nos'd , Believe it she 's dangerous ware . It is not all gold that doth glister , Nor 't is not all lead that looks dull , For Venus , the fairest of Sisters , Made Vulcan her husband a gull . So often times beautiful Lasses Do jeer their poor husbands with scorn , And cunningly break all their glasses , And make them drink out of a horn . But the bonny wench with the brown brow , Oh she is a good one indeed , She will be true to her vow , I wish we had more of the breed . A Song . 1. DId I once say that thou wert faire , And that thy breath perfum'd the aire ? Did I commit Idolatry , And court thee as a Deity ? Oh Caelia ! then sure I was blinde , Or else it was 'cause thou wer● kind . 2. Did I once beg a wanton kisse , And thought there was no other blisse ? Did I all other objects fly● To live i●th ' sun-shine of thine eye ? 'T is true , I did ; but Caelia then Restor'd to me as much ag●n . 3. Now Caelia's chang'd ▪ and so am I , And love feeds upon vanity , My constant tho●ghts could never find The pleasures of a fickle mind ▪ Till thy example did invite My appetite with new delight A SONG . SUre 't was a dream , how long fond man have I Been fool'd into captivity ? My New-gate was my want of wit , I did my self commit the bonds I knit ; I my own g●oler was , the onely foe That did my freedome disallow : I was a pris'ner 'cause I would be so . But now I will shake my chaines , and prove Opinion built the gaole of love , Made all his bonds , gave him his bow , His broken arrowes too , which murther so . Nay all these darts idle Lovers dream , Were all compos'd to make a Theam For some carousing Poet's drunken flame . 'T was a fine life I led , when I did dresse My self , to court your peevishnesse ; When I did at your foot-stoole lye , Expecting from your eye to live or dye . Now smiles or frownes , I care not which I have , Nay rather than I le be your slave , I le woo the plague to send me to the grave . Now I can stand the salleys of your eyes , In vain are all your b●tteries . Nor can that low dissembling smile , Nor that bewitching stile longer beguile , Nor those heart-traps , which you each renu● To all those witchcrafts , and to you For evermore I le bid adieu . An Epitaph on John Taylor , whow as born in the City of Glocester , died in Phaenix Alley , in the 75. yeare of his age ; you may finde him , if the worms have not devoured him , in Covent Garden Church-yard . HEre lies Iohn Taylor , without rime or reason , For death struck his Muse in so cold a season , That Iack lost the use of his Scullers to row , The chill pale R●seal would not let his boat go . Alas poor Iack Taylor , this 't is to drink ale , With nutmegs and ginger , with a toste , though stale : It drenche thee in Rimes : hadst thou been of the pack , With Draiton and Iohnson to qu●ff off thy Sack , They 'd infu●'d thee a Genius should nere expire , And have thawed thy Muse with Elemental fi●e . Yet still for the honour of thy sprightly wit , Since some of thy Fanc●es so handsomly hit ; The Nymphs of the Rivers for thy relation Sirnamed thee the Water-po●t of the nation ▪ Who can write more of thee , let him do'● for me , A pox take all Rim●ro , Iack Taylor , but thee . Weep not Reader , if thou canst chuse , Over the Stone of so merry a Muse . Another from the Vniversity . HEre lyes neither Constable , Iustice , nor Iaylor , No Bayly , nor Catch-poll , but honest Iohn Taylor ; Whose name is not graven on Marble Columes , But lives in his own four hundred volumes , Where women and men , and children may know it , That he was this Islands chief Water-Poet , Who being o're-whelm'd , by Death's powre felt like one , Not drowned in Lethe , but in Helicon ▪ And since he 's not living , but surely is dead , In Covent-gard●n Church-yard he lies buried . A SONG . 1. OH ho boyes , soh ho boyes , Come away boyes , And bring me my longing desire ; A Lasse th●t is near , And can do the feat , When lusty young blood is on fire . 2. Let her body be tall , And her wast●●e but small , And her age not above fifteen ; Let her feare for no bed , But let us here spread Our mantle upon the Green . 3. Let her have a cherry lip , Where I Nectar my sip , Le● her eyes ●e as black as a ●low ; Tangling locks I doe love , So those that hang above Be the same of what 's growing below . 4. Let her face be faire , And her br●sts be bare , And ● voyce let her have that can wa●ble , Let her belly be ●oft , To mount me aloft , Let her bounding buttocks be of marble , Oh such a bonny lasse May bring wonders to passe , And make me grow younger and younger , And when I dapart , She 'l be mad at the heart , That I am able to stand to'● no longer . FINIS . Notes, typically marginal, from the original text Notes for div A54795e-49550 Pray do not put him out Nan . He had reason to say so . Into the place where the great Sword and the Chair is . A sweet nap . Plain dealing 's a Jewell . Here they stand upright . He does not run a tilt . He had two if he could have kept them . About the time that mortalls whet their knives .