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 THE 
 
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 :[E FIRST EDITIOA 
 
 PRiNTRD FOR THE HUN''^'--' 1 ^ v pf r 
 
 1872 
 
THE 
 
 NIGHT 
 
 RAVEN. 
 
 By S.R.. 
 
 All thofe whofe deeeds doeJJiun the Light, 
 Are my companions in the Night. 
 
 L O N DO N, 
 
 Printed by G: Eld for lohn Deane and 
 
 Thomas Baity. 1620. 
 

THE NIGHT 
 
 RAVEN. 
 
 ALthough the Owle, and I, a cuftome keepe, 
 To flye abroad, when other Birds doe fleepe, 
 Changing our courfe from thofe of other 
 Yet do not we confort a nights together. (feather, 
 I haunt not barnes, for either Moufe or Rat, 
 As doth the fearching two-foote flying Cat, 
 Nor into bufhes after birds to pry, 
 Ther's diff 'rence t'wixt that deuills face and I : 
 For fecret things, being of another kinde. 
 In obfcure darkneffe, I apparant finde 
 Thofe euill a6lions that avoyde the Sunne, 
 And by the h'ght of day are neuer done. 
 But lurke in corners, from difclofmg eyes, 
 Not daring open view in any wife : 
 Thofe moft familier are made knowne to me, 
 I take a notice who, and where they be. 
 Drunkards that drinke vntill they cannot fpeake, 
 Villains and Theeues, that into houfes breake 
 Whores and Whoremongers trading for the Pox, 
 And reeling Watch-men, carrying Rogues to Stox, 
 
 A 2 With 
 
 M20S099 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 With many knauifh matters that befall 
 
 Which, turn and read, and you fhall know them all, 
 
 I neither tattle with lack-dazv, 
 
 Or Maggot-pye on thatch'd houfe ftraw. 
 
 Nor with your hopping cage birds fmg, 
 
 Nor cuckow it about the fpring : 
 
 Or like your Blacke-bird, Thrulh, and Stare 
 
 Whiffell in cages, for good fare : 
 
 Or cackell with your fcraping Hens, 
 
 Nor hiffe with Geefe, (that finde you pens) 
 
 Or like your durty Ducks doe quacke, 
 
 That in the water, water lacke, 
 
 Nor crow as doth your dung-hill cocke, 
 
 Clowne almanacke, and Shepheards clocke, 
 
 Or prate as greene-coate Parrot doth. 
 
 Like an old-wife, with ne're a tooth, 
 
 Nor mourne like Pigeons fed with peafe : 
 
 I am confort for none of thefe. 
 
 My watchfull eyes awake I keepe, 
 
 When all fuch idle creatures fleepe. 
 
 Were I not blacke, as all crowes be, 
 
 I fhould euen blufh at things I fee. 
 
 Three 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 Three fearefull Theeues. 
 
 A Gentleman, lying awake in's bed, 
 Hauing good Chriftian motions in his head, 
 How he had fpent the day, worfe then he fliould. 
 Omitting to performe the good he would, 
 Committing thofe things which he ought not doe, 
 As Sathaii, World, and FleJIi, did vrge him to. 
 Vnder his lodging very clofe and neare, 
 A conference twixt certaine theeues did heare. 
 Quoth one of them, my counfell pray imbrace, 
 Let's breake in heere, this is the weakefl place. 
 No faid another, I doe doubt we fhall 
 Finde this fo ftrong, that heer's a double v;all. 
 Then quoth the third, breake out the iron barrs 
 For too long lingring all our bufmeffe marrs : 
 We muft not onely heere this night abide, 
 For we haue houfes to attempt befide. 
 The Gentleman vnto the window goes. 
 And thus he fpake, vnto his theeuing foes ; 
 My friends (quoth he) forbeare this quoyle to keep, 
 And come anon, I am not yet a fleepe. 
 When they heard this, away with feare they fled, 
 And he fecurely, did returne to bed. 
 
 A3 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 A Rogue in the Stockes. 
 
 ABafe rude rafcall of the Roguifh crew, 
 For mifdemeanors that by him there grew, 
 Set by the heeles (according to defert) 
 Made himfelfe merry with this knauifh part : 
 The night obfcure, as darke as night could be. 
 Hearing one come, Stand, who goes there? quoth he: 
 The fellow (feeing neither watch nor bill) 
 Reply'd an honeft man, that meanes no ill : 
 Sirra (quoth he) I heere proteft and fweare 
 As I am Conftable, ftep one foote neare; 
 And in the ftocks thou fhalt till morning fit, 
 Or I my felfe, will for thee furnifh it, 
 The fellow backe againe his courfe did take. 
 With all the hafl that both his legs could make, 
 Suppofmg t'was fome Conftable in's rage, 
 Whofe fury was no leffe, then flocks or cage. 
 
 An 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 An Apology for Women. 
 
 THer's an abufe which comes vnto my mind^ 
 Vniuft impofed vpon women kind, 
 When men haue done things that diftaflfull be,. 
 And that their words from a6lions difagree, 
 In faying one thing, doing of another, 
 A fpeech is vs'd their guiltineffe to fmother. 
 Sure hes a man would /ia2ie perform' d the fame, 
 But the night Rauen is in all the blame. 
 Cafting the caufe by flaunder on the wife, 
 When fhe (good foule) is of fuch vertuous Hfe, 
 That from his word fhe no way would perfwade. 
 Although rafh promife had him loofer made. 
 Therefore kinde harted men, that women loues, 
 Tearm them no more night-Rauens, they are Doues 
 True harted Turtles, conflant, faithfull, kinde, 
 Mylder then men, and of leffe hurtfull minde. 
 More pittifull, and more companionate, 
 Leffe enuious and leffe poffefl with hate, 
 And of themfelues fo rare perfeflions fhow. 
 Not prouing bad, till bad men make them fo. 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 A night Swaggerer. 
 
 TEll me the Watch is fet! why th'art an affe! 
 What Conftable dare fay I fhall not paffe ? 
 Who euer bids me ftand, ile make him lye, 
 And cut his watchmen out Hke fteakes to frye. 
 I am a gentleman in three degrees, 
 And for three worlds my tytles ile not leefe : 
 A gentleman by true difcent of blood, 
 My auncient ftocke, was long before the flood. 
 Then for my fchollerfhip a gentleman, 
 Both reade and write, and cafb a count I can. 
 Then third degree of gentleman I clayme 
 Is my profeffion of a Souldiers name, 
 Looke but your Chronicle for eighty eight. 
 And turne to Tilbury, you haue me ftraight. 
 And doeft thou thinke that I will ftand in feare, 
 Of Lanthorne bill-men, asking zvho goes there} 
 No, in the night I muft and will beare fway. 
 Although my humour be not fo by day, 
 For then in policy I hold it beft, 
 To fhun a Sargeant, 'caufe I feare arreft. 
 
 FaJJtions 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 FaJIiions, ozit at the elbows. 
 
 TAylor, I take thy want of manners ill, 
 Dofl come to fupper to me, with thy bill ? 
 Hafl thou no time, but com.e at candle light? 
 Or doft thou feare I meane to vanifh quite ? 
 My choller tells thee, th'art a botching flaue, 
 Thy lourny-man, a very pricklowfe knaue. 
 My Sattin-fute is moft malignant made; 
 Goe burne thy bill, and fo refolue th'art pay'd : 
 And cutter-out thinke y'are a happy man 
 To fcape my fury thus, firrah I can, 
 Areft you for the fpoyling of my ftufife, 
 And yet that a6lion fhall not be enough, 
 I haue at leaft feuerall nine or ten 
 To teach a knaue, how he wrongs gentlemen : 
 As making it according to French-nation, 
 When I fhould haue it of the Spanifh-fafhion. 
 Then bringing it in lune home, paft your day. 
 When I fhould had it feene at court it May. 
 Then for two lice (I will be fworne I found) 
 Vpon my Pickadilly, creeping round, 
 But fmce th'art poore, I fome compaffion taking 
 Will punifh thee, with, nothing for the making. 
 
 B 
 
 The 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 The Roaring-boy^ and his P^mke. 
 
 PVnck I lacke money, how haft thriu'd to day? 
 To morrow I haue layd a plot will pay, 
 And flrap thou fhalt haue interreft to boote, 
 Count me a villaine if I faile to doot. 
 A pox vpon thee, roaring rogue (quoth fhe) 
 When we fhould get I wonder where you be: 
 Heere was a city-young-man, by this token, 
 Search you the purfe, a pretty youth well fpoken, 
 And fayes on thurfday heele be heere againe, 
 With him let me alone, I haue his vayne : 
 But I lack'd you to fwagger with a gull, 
 A gallant that had crownes his pockets full, 
 A fhame light on thee, hadft thou then come in 
 And curfl, and fwore, thou hadft my husband bin, 
 The fearefuU Haue, would willingly compound, 
 Rather then in a baudy houfe be found, 
 Be heere on monday-night in any cafe, 
 I fhall haue an Italian then in chafe, 
 Befides a Dutch-man comes to try a Punke 
 Swagger it brauely then, be foundly drunke. 
 
 The 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 The Gull, and the Domineering Conjlable. . 
 
 SIrra, what are you? where's your dwelling place .^ 
 Sirs bring the Lanthorne, let me fee his face. 
 Doeft know him Beadle? Surely fir not I. 
 Ant pleafe your worfhip I doe lodge hereby, 
 I haue bin forth at fupper with a friend. 
 Tell me of fupper, tut a puddings end 
 You kiffe the Counter firra that is flat. 
 He teach you know my place deferues a hat. 
 Ant pleafe your worfhip, I confeffe it doth 
 But pardonme, my head's not well in footh. 
 You thinke all howres of the night to march 
 Becaufe y'are in your yellow clofe-floole ftarch. 
 Haft not Tabacco, and a tynder box ? 
 The knaue may fire the towne, haue him to ftocks. 
 Pleafe your good worlhip not a Pipe I haue, 
 Doft thinke I fit heere to keepe fheepe thou knaue? 
 No fir, with reuerent mageftrates I match 
 Your worfhip, and the gentlemen, your watch, 
 Well firra fince your duty doth appeare, 
 I am content, this time you fhall goe cleere. 
 Depart in peace, and play no knauifh pranckes, 
 I giue your worJJiips all, mojl Jmmble thanks. 
 
 B 2 Terrible 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 Terrible news ^ for Taber and Pipe, 
 
 AN odd companion, walking vp and downe, 
 To pipe a liuing out from towne to towne: 
 Being at a Wedding bufie at his play, 
 Forgetting daunger of his tedious way. 
 Belated was, yet be it ill or good, 
 He did refolue to wander through a wood. 
 And as he went with knap-facke full of fcrapps, 
 And Taber at his backe, by fortune happs 
 That he farre off by Moone-light chanced to fee, 
 A cruell Beare, which forc'd him take a tree, 
 The beaft, with fodaine fpeed came feircely too't 
 And fell to fcrape and fcratch about the roote. 
 Poore Taborer fo fcar'd was with the Beare, 
 He fweate and trembled, in a flinking feare. 
 At length he thought vpon his wedding fcraps 
 And threw them to the Beare, to fill his chaps. 
 Who for the time from mining did refraine; 
 But eating all, fell hard to worke againe. 
 Oh now (quoth he) I haue no hope at all, 
 The tree begins to fhake, and I mull fall, 
 Adew my friends this Beare wiU me deuouer, 
 Yet as a farewell at my dying hower, 
 
 Euen 
 
 12 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 Terrible news for Tabber and Pipe, 
 
 Euen in difpight of Paris-garden foes 
 He haue a fit, as hard as this world goes, 
 And fo betakes him, to his Pipe and Tabor, 
 And doth them both, fo found and braue belabor, 
 The Beare amazed from his fcratching runs 
 As if at's breech had bin a peale of guns, 
 Which when the Taborer with ioy did fee. 
 Well Beare (he faid) if this your humor be, 
 Would I had knowne to vfe the charming feate. 
 You fhould haue daunc'd, before you had my meate 
 So downe he comes, and without longer flaying, 
 Thorow the wood goes homeward, al night playing ; 
 Then fends for all his friends, that they may heare 
 The ftory of the Piper and the Beare, 
 Vowing his Tabor was more deere to him, 
 Then was Arions harpe, when he did fwim 
 Vpon the Dolphins backe, mofl fafe a fhore. 
 And that fame Inftrument for euer-more 
 As monument, vnto Tompipcrs race, 
 Should fhow his valour, and the Beares difgrace. 
 
 B3 
 
 To 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 . To all Jlothfidl Sertiaiits. 
 
 I Often in the night (as I doe flye) 
 See burning houfes flaming to the flcye, 
 At which moft dreadfull accidents that fall, 
 A fodaine terrour terrifieth all, 
 People amazed crying fire, fire, 
 And in perplexed manner helpe require 
 Some in their beds confum'd to afhes quite, 
 And fome for euer franticke with the fright, 
 Some wealthy men at fetting of the Sunne, 
 And ere the rifing, beggers cleane vndone. 
 And when that people ferioufly inquire. 
 How a,ll this great misfortune comes by fire; 
 The common anfwere is, (and tis too true) 
 Moft flothfull feruants, it is long of you, 
 You that no care doe in your callings take, 
 Nor chriftian confcience of your waies doe make. 
 To looke vnto your fire and your light; 
 Of which in duty you haue ouer-fight, 
 But flight the danger that to other growes 
 Becaufe your felues haue nothing for to loofe; 
 Affure you this, a careleffe queane or knaue, 
 Euen fuch as they haue bin, fhall feruants haue. 
 
 A 
 
 14 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 A wicked Wife. 
 
 IN darkefome fhade of melancholy night, 
 There did appeere to one, a walking fprite, 
 Which put him in a fearefuU fit to fee, 
 At length vnto Hobgoblin thus faid he, 
 If thou belong to God, and beare good mind, 
 Thou wilt not vfe me cruell and vnkind, 
 Becaufe no hurtfuU things to him belong. 
 That will doe vs (poore humane creatures) wrong, 
 But if thou doft pertaine vnto the Deuill, 
 Yet for his fake forbeare to doe me euill. 
 For I haue married late, a lumpe of fin 
 Which is his fifler, therefore pray for kin 
 That is betweene the diuell and my wife. 
 Affright me not with feare of limbe, or life. 
 Haft thou (quoth he) nay then if it be fo, 
 I will not vrge thee vnto further woe : 
 A wicked wife, croffe vpon croffe begins, 
 She's plague enough, to plague thee for thy fins. 
 
 »5 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 A wounded Drunkard. 
 
 A Drunkard, (whom the cup did tardy catch) 
 Came very late a reehng through the watch, 
 Who cald him with the common %vho goes there? 
 But he in ftaggers would not feeme heare, 
 The Conftable, (with drowfie Bill-men mand) 
 Said firrah, in the Kings name looke you ftand. 
 What rebell knaue (quoth he) wilt not obay? 
 So looking by their Lanthorne, downe he lay 
 And to the watchmen, holding vp his hand, 
 Said now I charge you all to help me ftand, 
 Or clfe in fober fadneffe, (you fox getters,) 
 He make you anufwere it before your betters, 
 Marke what I fay, for now I charge you all, 
 To make me ftand, and looke I doe not fall. 
 With that they got him on his legs and ftaid him, 
 Saying heer's the Conftable, you difobay'd him, 
 And were it not for fliame, (bafe drunken clowne) 
 We would (as we may lawfull) knocke thee downe. 
 With that he fell vnto the ground againe 
 And cry'd out murder, murder, I am flaine. 
 My fcull is cleft, they haue put out mine eyes. 
 And cut off both my legs, Hoftes, Dick dyes. 
 
 Like 
 
 l6 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 Like Mi/iris like Maide. 
 
 SVfaUy would meete with Richard and with Ned,'' 
 Affoone as ere her miftris was a bed, 
 For a Sack-poffet they agree'd to eate, 
 And fhe befides would haue a bit of meate, 
 And fo be merry, that they would in fadneffe. 
 But euen about the time of mirth and gladneffe. 
 When both the young-men were beftow'd within, 
 One that had long her miftris louer bin, 
 Knocks at the doore, whereat her felfe came downe 
 (As loofe of body as fhe was of gowne) 
 And in the darke put Letcher in the roome. 
 Where both the youths attend till Sufan come, 
 Who in meane time to light a candle went. 
 So did her miftris for the fame intent. 
 And meeting with her maide, oh flrange (quoth fhe) 
 What caufe haue you at this time heere to be? 
 Miftris (quoth fhe) vnto you ile be true. 
 There's two as honeft youths as ere I knew, 
 Came late to fee me, (pray you be content) 
 Wench this may be (faid fhe) and no hurt ment, 
 
 ii 
 
 For 
 
 17 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 Like Mijlris like Maide. 
 
 For there's an honefl man, to make them three, 
 
 That came in kindneffe for to vifet me, 
 
 Good Sufan be as fecret as you can, 
 
 Your mafter is foolifh lealous man. 
 
 Though thou and I, doe meane no hurt or ill. 
 
 Yet men take women in the worft fenfe ftill, 
 
 And feare of homes, more griefe in harts hath bred 
 
 Then wearing homes doth hurt a cuckolds head. 
 
 iS 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 A Shifters Rifling. 
 
 MOft louing friends on Thurfday next at night 
 One mafter Needy, kindly doth inuite 
 Some foure or three fcore gallants (at the leaft) 
 To rifle for his Nag, a pafllng beaft, 
 That he indeed did borrow of a friend, 
 But being come vnto his iournies end, 
 And finding it is no good husbands way. 
 To be at horfe expence for oates and hay, 
 Which idle ftands and pampers in the ftable, 
 Befides himfelfe vn willing, purfe vnable. 
 To be at further charges with the lade, 
 Will rifle him, his friend can be but paied 
 As they fhall afterwards agree of price, 
 When he his horfe-play hath perform'd at dice. 
 Each a lacobus, come in any wife. 
 His whole eftate, vpon the bu'fneffe lies, 
 His money wants and patience now perforce 
 Depends vpon the credit of this horfe, 
 Fayle not his rifeling therefore but come too't 
 Or you ore-throw a gallant horfe and foote. 
 
 C2 
 
 Qtiarrell 
 
 19 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 Quarell vpon debate. 
 
 TWo chanc'd to fall at fome diffention late, 
 And waxing weary of their fond debate 
 Wherein (like fooles) law-money might be fpent, 
 Agree'd to put it to arbitterment, 
 Each of an honefl friend did make his choyfe, 
 And bound themfelues to their awarding voyce, 
 The arbitrators met to end the lar, 
 And argu'd matters in a heate fo far, (delt, 
 
 That knaue, and knaue betweene them both was 
 And fo from words, the force of fifls they felt. 
 Their nofes bled, their eies were blacke and blew, 
 As feirce a buffet fray, as ere you knew. 
 At length thofe twain they met for to make friends, 
 Came in, to heare their matter how it ends. 
 And what award they did intend to make. 
 Quoth th'arbitrators ; Mafters for your fake. 
 We met together, your debates to fmother, 
 And very foundly we haue beate each other. 
 Now as your felues meane to be delt withall, 
 Take vp our matter, ere we end your brail, 
 We two that came your quarells to difcuffe. 
 Doe now want two to cefe debate for vs. 
 
 He 
 
 20 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 Hee hath little to care for, that hath little to lofe. 
 
 Villains by night into a Kytchin brake, 
 Suppofing braffe, and pewter thence to take. 
 The good-wife heard them, and her husband calls, 
 Telling him theeues were breaking throgh the walls 
 And therefore to preuent them will'd him rife, 
 Quoth he (kind wife) I am not fo vnwife. 
 To put my felfe in danger caufeleffe fo. 
 The night is darke as any pitch you know, 
 And if they there can find out goods by night, 
 When thou and I, fee nothing by day light, 
 He fay they coniure or doe vfe fome charme, 
 For there is nought to lofe can doe vs harme 
 Wife let vs both laugh at them in our fleeues, 
 That with our empty kitchin we gull theeues. 
 
 C3 
 
 An 
 
 81 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 An EngliJIi Cam^ibalL 
 
 ARoreing boy, (of the late damned making) 
 Sat moneyleffe, alone, Tabacco taking, 
 For he had thriu'd fo well by candle-light. 
 He loffc ten pound by eight a clocke at night, 
 So curfmg dice and Fortune for this wrong 
 A fawcy Fidler offers him a fong. 
 Ha, fong quoth he? Sirra wilt fell thy Boy? 
 I haue an vfe for fuch a kinde of toy. 
 Why fir (faid he) what will you put him too ? 
 Bate him (quoth he) that I intend to doe. 
 Sad melancholy makes my fences weary. 
 And that fame boy fliall make me inward merry, 
 The Fidler downe the ftayres with all haft hies, 
 Quicke boy be gone (faies he) one of vs dies. 
 The diuell's in him fure, and he may fall. 
 To eate vs vp aliue, fiddles and all. 
 Some greedy plannet certainly doth flrike-him. 
 He hath a hungry looke, I doe not like-him, 
 Yet for his dyet we are moft vnmeet, 
 Becaufe through feare, there's neither of vs fweet. 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 A Foole probatum. " ^ 
 
 AGraue Phifition, in the night at's booke, 
 (That did dame Natures fecrets ouer-looke,) 
 Found (amongft other things) this one worth hea- 
 That a long beard was but a foolifh wearing, (ring 
 With that he tooke the candle and the glaffe, 
 And went to fee what fize his owne beard was, 
 Which as he viewd, and did ftroking handle, 
 He fet the fame on fire, by the candle 
 Burning it fodainly vnto his chin, 
 Which had before downe to his middle bin, 
 Now doe I finde (quoth he) t'is a true note 
 That he which is long bearded (like a Gote) 
 Is but a foole, my felfe can this proteft. 
 So fet it downe in's booke Probatum eft. 
 
 leajling 
 
 n 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 lejling turnd to good earnejl. 
 
 GEntlemen kindly in a Tauerne met, -^ *> 
 
 And as they all to fupper downe were fet, 
 Came in a lefter, (vnto fome there knowne,) 
 Who at the table boldly maketh one, 
 Where like an impudent audacious affe 
 He turnes his foolifh idle fcofifes to paffe. 
 Not caring whom, nor how he did abufe : 
 But one amongft the reft, whom he did chufe 
 To play vpon, and in a vaine to run 
 Did quiet put vp all, till fupper done. 
 Then rifmg, came and tooke him by the hand, 
 And faid familiar fir, I vnderfland 
 The ripeneffe of your wit to breake a ieft 
 It feemes your braine is bufily poffefb 
 To vtter all your humour doth allow. 
 And therefore for your boldneffe with me now, 
 Although I cannot breake a ieft, I fay, 
 Yet I can breake your pate, take that I pray. 
 Goe to the Barbers fhop, and there reueale-it, 
 And left a plaifter out of him to heale-it. 
 
 The 
 
 24 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 The Home Plague. 
 
 INto a iealous paflion one did fall, 
 And kept his bed, not being fick at all. 
 A friend of his did come to fee him, and 
 The caufe of his not being well demand. 
 Tell me (quoth he) wher doe you feele your paine.^ 
 In head or heart, where doth your griefe remaine? 
 What member is it that is ill afFe6led, 
 That Phifick may the better be dire^ed.? 
 Truely (faid he) of head I not complaine. 
 Nor doth my heart pertake of any paine. 
 Nor lights nor lungs, nor kidnes do torment. 
 But an ill Liuer is my difcontent: 
 And none can help it better then my wife, 
 If fhe would feeke to mend her queanifh life; 
 T'is this hz.^-Liuer doth the horne-plague breed, 
 Which day & night my Iealous thoughts doth feed. 
 
 D 
 
 The 
 
 ^i 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 The Tragedy of Smug the Smith, 
 
 A Smith for fellony was apprehended, 
 And being condem'd for hauing fo offended^ 
 The townef-men, with a generall confent 
 Vnto the ludge, with a petition went, 
 Affirming that no fmith did neare them dwell. 
 And for his Art they could not fpare him well, 
 For he was good at edge-toole, locke and key, 
 And for a Farrier, moft rare man (quoth they.) 
 The difcreet ludge, vnto the clownes reply'd, 
 How fhall the Law be iuftly fatisfied ? 
 A theefe that fteales muft dye therefore, that's flat. 
 Oh fir faid they, we haue a tricke for that : 
 Two Weaners dwelling in our towne there are, 
 And one of them we very well can fpare. 
 Let him be hang'd we very humbly craue, 
 Nay hang them both fo we the Smith may haue. 
 The ludge he fmyled at their fimple ieft, 
 And faid the Smith would ferue the hang-man beft. 
 
 Of 
 
 26. 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 Of two euills chufe the leajl, 
 
 AScriuener (about nine a clocke at night) 
 Sat clofe in's fhop, and earneftly did write, 
 The villany abroad fufpe6ling not, 
 While two obferuing him, thus layd a plot. 
 Quoth one to t'other, fnatch thou off his hat : 
 The which he did, and ran away with that : 
 The Scriuener in haft his fhop forfakes. 
 And for to ouertake him vndertakes. 
 So while he follows him that runs away 
 The other rafcall watching for his pray, 
 Enters the fhop as bold as bold might be, 
 And takes his cloake and fo away goes he. 
 Scriuener comes backe, bare headed as he went, 
 Miffmg his cloake was far worfe difcontent. 
 Quoth he what cafe am I brought in to night, 
 Of hat and cloake being vncafed quite? 
 I will not cry Hamlet Reuenge my greeues. 
 But I will call Hang-man Reuenge on theeues. 
 
 D2 
 
 To 
 
 27 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 To the City and Suburbes. 
 
 T Here's not a night I fly throughout the yeare, 
 Be it obfcurely darke, or Moone light cleere, 
 But I behold abufes, things vnmeet, 
 By fuch as doe vntimely haunt the flreet. 
 I heare a knocking at your City gates, 
 By your good-fellowes, with their drunken pates : 
 I note the places of polluted finne 
 Where your kind wenches and their bawds put in. 
 I know the houfes where bafe cheaters vfe, 
 And note what Gulls (to worke vpon) they chufe, 
 I take a notice what your youth are doing, 
 When you are fall a fleepe, how they are woing 
 And fteale together by fome fecret call, 
 Like Piramus and Thisby through the wall, 
 I fee your prentifes what pranks they play, 
 And things you neuer dreame on can bewray, 
 But ile giue warning firfl, for reformation. 
 Which if it fayle, then of another fafliion 
 lie tell a tayle, fome will be loth to heare, 
 Therefore let thefe amend and ile forbeare. 
 
 The 
 
 28 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 The coniuring of a Spirit. 
 
 ASeruing-man, his fellow did perfwade, 
 To play the fpirit and make a clowne afraid, 
 Thou knowft (quoth he) Tom of his manhood boafls 
 That he like butter-flies efbeemes all Ghoafls, 
 Thou fhalt at night vnder a ftayre-cafe ftand 
 Bound in a fheet, the dogs chaine in thy hand. 
 And as that way toward bed he doth prepare 
 Thou like a Ghoaft, mofl brauely fhalt him fcare. 
 Content (quoth he) withall my heart agreed, 
 I am the man that will performe the deed. 
 Fitted at night, vnder the flayres he got, 
 The other he reueales the bug-beare plot. 
 Saying Tom take thou a cudgell, and rib roafl him. 
 Let me alone (quoth Tom) I will be ghoft him. 
 So comming to the place, the fpirit groanes, 
 Tom with his cudgell, well bebafts his bones. 
 Hold, hold, (quoth he) for Gods loue, (I proteft) 
 I am no diuell, but a fpirit in ieft, 
 Vntye the fheet, behold me by the light. 
 He kill the rogue, that made me play the fpirit. 
 
 D3 
 
 The 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 The Gallant^ and his brother Beg ger. 
 
 A Stately gallant in his fafhions brauing, 
 A begger followed, and almes went crauing 
 Good gentleman (quoth he) fome fuccour grant, 
 To a poore man in mifery and want. 
 Sirrah (faid he) there is foure farthings take them, 
 Oh (quoth the begger) all men now forfake them. 
 Kind gentleman, afford to your poore brother, 
 Some filuer peece will paffe from one t'another. 
 Brother (faid he) how came that neereneffe in ? 
 I pray which way are we become of kin ? 
 Sir (quoth the begger) brothers we may call 
 Caufe Adam was the father of vs all. 
 Sure brother begger, it is true (quoth he) 
 And this is all the hurt I wifh to thee 
 All Adams fonnes aliue vnder the Sunne, 
 Would glue their brother but as I haue done. 
 Yet then I feare the Prouerb would proue right, 
 A begger fet on horfe-backe nere would light. 
 
 30 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 A mad voyage for old M cones. 
 
 AMarchant loft by fhipwracke all he had, 
 And therevpon he fell diftra6led mad, 
 But in the humors of his franticke fits, 
 He plotted matters did amaze good wits, 
 As to haue plowes to goe with canuas fayles, 
 And meate well boyld, and fod in wooden payles. 
 With many matters he did ftrange, proie6l, 
 Whereof a number came to fome effefl, 
 But a rare voyage came at laft in's head, 
 Should ftand the commonwealth in wondrous ftead 
 Onely one trade he would vndoe thereby, 
 (The Chaundlers he did hate exceedingly) 
 And therefore (quoth he) to his friends, you know 
 That euery moneth there doth a new Moone grow. 
 And then the old giues place to that, you fee. 
 He make a voyage, where the old ones be, 
 (You cannot be in th'Indies halfe fo foone,) 
 Then will I fell to euery man a Moone, 
 And that fhall giue him all his life time light 
 And thus ile begger all the Chaundlers quite. 
 
 Mijlaking 
 
 3^ 
 
The Night-Rauen, 
 
 Miftaking in the darke. 
 
 CHaucer, amongft his merry iefls doth write, 
 Of one that went a woing in the night, 
 It being extreame darke, as darke might be, 
 Vnto the widdowes window commeth he, 
 And there intreats her fauour for a kiffe. 
 And fhe affords him, fuch a one as t'is. 
 Opening the cafement, to her clownifh friend. 
 She turnes out to his lips her lower end. 
 Which paft away for currant in the darke, 
 A better man might fo miflake the marke, 
 And like to him haue goe away with thankes. 
 Well this was one of Chancers widdows pranks. 
 But we haue diuers night men now a daies. 
 That in the darke become fuch wilfull flraies. 
 When they fhould goe vnto their wiues chaft bed. 
 Doe get vnto the maids, in miftris ftead. 
 And fo the auntient prouerbe doth allow, 
 That loams as good, as is my lady now. 
 But he whofe honeft wife cannot fuffice him, 
 I wifli the Surgeons tooles might circumcife him. 
 
 The 
 
 32 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 The Conjlable cannot doe it. 
 
 A Warrant to a Conftable was fent, 
 Of fpeciall charge, diforder to preuent, 
 (Which was fufpe£led from men ill inclind,) 
 All thofe he after ten a clocke did finde, 
 He fliould difarme of weapons they did beare. 
 Not fufifring any one a dagger weare. 
 A humorous odd fellow heard the fame, 
 And to the conftable he ferious came, 
 Sir (quoth he) hearing you haue ouerfight 
 For to difarme all weaponed men by night, 
 I doe intreate you, for your office fake, 
 A rapire and a dagger you would take 
 From one that's armed, and a man I feare 
 A Broker, that my weapons now doth beare. 
 If Load-ftone-like by you they could be drawne, 
 From, (Day's broke,) that hath them now in pawne. 
 My credit (fir) would be fharp fet againe. 
 Which now lies defperate rufting in Long-lane. 
 
 E 
 
 Mi/iris 
 
 33 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 Mi/Iris New/angle. 
 
 HOw am I plagued with a fcuruy maid? 
 In all I doe command her, difobay'd, 
 To no good quallity fhe doth inclyne 
 But fhe's my husbands feruant none of mine, 
 It is his will to haue her in the houfe, 
 But if I find his Flea, or body Lowfe, 
 Betweene my fheets, (as I doe fhrewd fufpe6l,) 
 He haue their itch killd in Bridewell dire6l. 
 Set her to ftarch a band, (I vow tis true) 
 She euer fpoyles the fame with too much blew. 
 Lafl night fhe feru'd me, a moft roguifh tricke. 
 Fell faft a fleep, and burnd my poking fticke. 
 Nay heard you of a verier queane then this, 
 She layd my Fan where rats and mife did piffe. 
 And calling hafly for my Maske and Fan, 
 She was at her Tabacco with our man. 
 And brought it to me fmelling fo of fmoke, 
 That almoft for to found it did prouoke. 
 If that it had not fortuned fo well, 
 That I had on my perfum'd gloues to fmell: 
 Pray fpeake, had you this vexer and abufer. 
 And were thus plagu'd as I, how would you vfe her? 
 
 The 
 
 34 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 The valiant Btitcher. 
 
 FOure theeues, that all the day had bin to take, 
 At night betweene themfelues would euen make 
 Within a wood vnder a hedge on ground 
 They fpred a cloake, and fat about it round, 
 And there their monyes equally deuide ' 
 Into foure parts, laying to each mans fide 
 His fhare according to th'amounting fum. 
 Thus as they fat, a Butcher chaunc'd to come 
 A long the hedge, who found of voyce did heare. 
 And prying foftly through, faw money there, 
 Bouldly refolu'd to fhare it from them all : 
 Breakes through with his ftaffe and lowd did call, 
 Heere maflers heere, the villains are we looke, 
 Come through quick, with that the theeues forfook 
 Money and cloake, and take themfelues to run, 
 That they the daunger of their necks might fhun, 
 Conftrain'd by guilt and put to flight by feare. 
 As if a hundred armed men were there. 
 The Butcher tooke the money and the clooke. 
 And to himfelfe in ioyfull manner fpoke, 
 Heer's the beft match, that I haue made of long, 
 As fpeech is vs'd, lie pocket vp this wrong. 
 
 E 2 The 
 
 35 
 
The Night-Rauen. 
 
 The Concht/ion. 
 
 ALL you vfurpers of the nights darke houres, 
 (As though thofe times, were for abufes yours) 
 Drunke in the Tauerns, making Ale-houfe fcores, 
 And in Tabacco fhops, fmoking like-Moores, 
 You that with Fox and Wolfe, by night doe pray, 
 For that muft feed your theeuifli throats next day, 
 You that are inmates to the diuells Inns, Bandy 
 
 Fild with cormption of the rotten fmnes, hoiifes. 
 
 You in a word, that are mofl vile, moft bafe. 
 And liue like men that haue renounced grace, 
 When you doe a6l the diuells reuells thus 
 (More blacke of foules, then blackeft Crow of vs) 
 If you but faw what vgly feinds of Hell, 
 Imbrace you, for your pleafmg them fo well. 
 And how about you numberles they fwarme. 
 And with the Seauen deadly fmnes doe charme 
 Your fmfuU lufls, to draw you downe to Hell, 
 You would reforme your waies, with doing well. 
 Arming your felues againft the diuell ftronger. 
 And fo be children of the night no longer. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 36 
 
'Hf^ 
 
fVi2030S9 
 
 9:2 9 ^ 
 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA UBRARY