University of Virginia Library


11

His Message.

Goe Muse abroade, and beate the world about,
Tell trueth for shame, and hugger vp no ill;
Flatter no follie with too plaine a flowt,
Nor on a buzzard set a falcon's bill:
Doe no man wrong, giue euery man his right,
For time will come that all will come to light.
Doe not persuade a foole that he is wise,
Nor make a begger thinke he is a king;
Say not a mole can see that hath no eyes,
Nor starke dead stockes haue any power to spring;
For while that logicke would maintaine a lie,
Tis easely found out in philosophie.
Tell idle eies that know not how to looke,
Their wanton thoughts will worke them nought but woes,
Tell addle wittes that haue the worlde mistooke,
Vnbridled willes are Reason's ouerthrowes:
While onely Trueth that walkes by Wisedome's line,
Happieth the heart, and makes the soule diuine.
Goe to the Court and tell your gratious king,
That in his loue his Land hath blessed been;
And tell his Land that you haue truely seene,
No Court on earth more gracèd in a King;
Where Vertue giues a kind of heauenly crown
That all the world can neuer tumble downe.
There tell the lordes and ladies in their eares,
They must be loyall in their humble loues;
The fairest badge that honor euer beares,
Is, in a crowne a nest of turtle-doues;
The crowne of lawrell that can neuer wither,
The birdes in loue that liue and die togither.
There tell the courtier he doth kindely serue,
That of his curtsie cannot make a cloake;
Where Bountie's hād doth honor best deserue,
That giues reward before the word he spoke;
And tell the gallants that will seeke for graces,
Chaste modest eies best figure angels' faces.
Goe bid the lawyers looke their Common-places,
And where they know the trueth, there giue the right:
For God Himselfe who heares the poore mens cases,
Will giue a day vnto their darkest night.
When in the Booke that doth all thoughts disclose,
Their soules shall see whereto iniustice growes.
Goe to the learnèd Vniuersities,
And tell the schollers of the losse of time;
Bid them beware of too much liberties,
Best thriuing plants are tended in their prime;
And bid them first goe read the rules of grace,
That lower blessings may come on apace.
Tell country Players, that old paltry iests
Pronouncèd in a painted motley coate,
Filles all the world so full of cuckoes nests,
That nightingales can scarcely sing a note:
Oh bid them turne their minds to better meanings,
Fields are ill sowne that giue no better gleanings.
Goe tell the Fidlers that doe haunt the Faires,
They are but coales to kindle wicked fire;
Where only pence doe make vnequal paires:
Performe the actions of vncleane desires:
When in an ale-house in a drunken pot,
The diuell daunceth though they see him not.
Goe tell the Swaggrers that doe vse to sweare,
Heere, or in hell, their mouthes will sure be stopt;
And tell the thieues that robbe without a feare,
That Tiborne trees must once a month be topt;
And tell the cluster of the damnèd crue,
Such hell-hounds heauen out of her mouth doth spue.
Bid each Diuine goe closely to his booke,
And truely teach the comforts of the soule,
And to his life to haue a carefull looke;
Knowing what actions angels doe enroule,
And tell them truely that diuinitie
With worldly loue hath no affinitie.
Feede not the Souldier with delight of blood,
While Mercy is the honour of a field;
And tell the Merchant, that ill gotten good,
A wretched life a wofull end will yeeld;
And tell the Miser vsurer of money,
His soule is poysned with his bodie's hunney.
Goe tell the Craftesman of his crafty worke,
And that his coosoning one day will decay;
For long the foxe may in his burrow lurke,
That may be catcht in hunting of a pray;
And whereas Trueth can only beare a blame
Falshood must runne and hide her face for shame.

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Goe tell the Fencer with his deadly foyne,
That Caine and Abell yet are currant weight,
Where is more easie for to part then ioyne
The soule and body by a wicked sleight;
While secret murther in the sinner's brest
Will neuer let the soule to be at rest.
Goe tell the wretch that would and cannot thriue,
That his endeauor standeth for a deed;
And bid the sick man in his soule reuiue,
While angells ioyes on sinners teares do feede:
And tell the soule that mourneth for her sinne
Heau'n gates stand open for to let her in.
Tell not a crow, that she is lilly white,
Because a painter colourd hath her coate;
Nor say a cuckoe hath in musicke righte,
Because in Maye she hittes vpon a noate;
But say the crow is blacke, the cuckoe's horse;
The finest carkasse will be but a corse.
Tell Aesop's pie, that flies with peaccocke's feathers
They are but stolne, or borrowèd, not her owne;
And tell the shippe that sailes in roughest weather,
Vpon a rocke she may be ouerthrowne;
And tell the hart that will not keepe the wood,
To graze too farre, will doe him little good.
Goe tell the beggar at the rich man's gate,
That Lazarus in Abraham's bosome liues;
And tell the rich, that Diues' wofull state,
Doth shew what almes lacke of pitty giues;
And tell the wise that Salomon is dead,
While wilfull Fancie brings a fool to bedde.
Goe bid the Iailour looke vnto his charge,
And not be cruell where he may be kinde;
For though a prisoner be not set at large,
Yet in his sorrow let him comfort finde;
That when the soule at Mercie's doore doth knocke,
Pitty on earth may ope the heauenly locke.
Goe to the prisoner that doth liue opprest,
And tell him patience is a heau'nly power,
That in all troubles giues the spirit rest,
And makes it happy in a heau'nly hower;
When True Remorce that Vertue's griefe doth see,
From care and sorrow soone will set him free.
Goe tell the Poets that their pidling rimes
Begin apace to grow out of request:
While wanton humors in their idle times,
Can make of Loue but as a laughing iest:
And tell poore Writers, stories are so stale,
That penny ballads make a better sale.
Goe tell the Authors of high Tragedies,
That bloudlesse quarrells are but merry fights;
And such as best conceite their Comedies,
Doe feede their fancies but with fond delights;
Where toyes will shew that figure Trueth's intention,
They spoyle their spirits with too much inuention.
Goe bid the Scriuener looke in his indentures,
That no ill couenant a conueiance marre;
And tell the Sailer that in sea aduentures,
A shippe ill guided splitts vpon a barre;
And tell the Fisher when he layes his nets,
He fisheth ill that but a gudgin gets.
Go tell the Iuglers that their iests are toyes,
Where wisedome seeth the worth of little wit;
Their exercises but for girles and boyes,
That watch the gander while the goose doth sit;
Their trickes but trifles, bred by wickednesse,
But to deceiue the eye of simplenesse.
Go tell the pander and the parasite,
The one his tongue is like the other's minde;
The parasite without a tooth can bite,
The pander liues in a more loathsome kinde;
The one, his facultie is flattery,
The other, liues by filthy lechery.
Go tell the traitour, if thou hitst of any,
That Iudas is a prologue to their play;
And tell the world that Iudasses too many,
In secret corners spring vp euerie day;
Who, since both heau'n and earth may well abhorre,
Goe hang themselues as he hath done before.
Go to the Countrey, where the farmers dwell,
And bid them bring their corne out to the poore;
Tell them the sexton comes to ring the bell,
Whē death will fetch the richest out of doore;
And they too late to their sorrow shall see,
How churles on earth in hell shall plaguèd be.
Goe tell the Labourers, that the lazie bones
That will not worke, must seeke the beggar's gaines
And tell the beggar that his fainèd groanes,
Must haue a whippe to ease him of his paines;
While workemen's labour, and the lame man's woe
In wisedome's eye cannot vnpittied goe.
Thus, not in order seeke out euery one,
But as thou meetst them, tell them what I bid thee;
But if thou seest thou canst doe good of none,
Of gracelesse schollers quickly seeke to rid thee;
Such as determine in their sinnes to dwell,
Thou canst not helpe them if they run to hell.
But lest thy worke be all to much to doe,
Beginne againe and I will make an end;
But haue a care of that I set thee to,
Lest I discarde thee euer for a friend;
But take good heed, begin where I begun,
And make an end, and I will soone haue don.
Goe bid the Courtier that he be not prowde,
The Soldier bloody, nor the Lawyer blinde;
And bid the Merchant, that he doe not shrowde
A subtle meaning in a simple kinde;
Goe bid the Schollers learne, the Doctors teach,
And haue a care to liue as they doe preach.

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Goe bid the Farmer bring abroad his graine,
The Craftesman, that he soundly make his ware,
The Workeman, that he labour for his gaine,
The Beggar that he waite for pittie's share;
Then if the Sexton come to ring the bell,
Where Faith is fixt, there is no feare of Hell.
Forbid the Poets, all fantasticke humors,
The Players, acting of vnlawfull iests,
The Prose-men, raising of unciuill rumors,
The Fidlers, playing but at Bride-ale feasts,
The Fencers, fight but onely to defende,
That easie quarrels sóone may haue an ende.
Goe tell the Spend-thrift that doth sell his land.
Money will melt like snow against the sunne;
And he that takes his rent vp afore-hand,
May hap to want before the yeare be done;
And tell a Foole, that plaies on better wittes,
A lowzie head will quickly shew his nittes.
Goe bid the Scriuener looke he truely write,
And tell the Iugler, that his feates are stale;
And bid the Sailer looke his shippes be tight,
And take the blowing of a merry gale;
And bid the Fisher lay for bigger fish,
A world of gudgins will not fill a dish.
Goe tell the Rich Man, that his store of wealth,
Wil purchase him no place in Paradise;
And bid the strong man boast no more of health,
For as the lambe we see the lyon dies;
And bid the wise man boast not of his wits,
Lest vnawares he fall to madding fits.
Goe bid the Iaylour looke vnto his lockes,
And keepe his keyes, and feare no prisoners flight;
And keepe his rackes, his tortures, boltes and stockes,
To make a traitor bring a trueth to light;
But to his power to helpe the poore oppressèd,
For God is pleasd in pittying the distressèd.
Goe bid the Poets studie better matter,
Then Mars and Venus in a tragedie;
And bid them leaue to learne to lie and flatter,
In plotting of a Louer's Comedie;
And bid Play-writers better spend their spirits,
Than in fox-burrows, or in cony-ferrits.
Do not allure a wanton eye to loue,
Nor seeke with wordes to witch an itching eare;
Play not the turky with a turtle-doue,
Nor fray a baby with a painted beare;
Finde better worke to set thyselfe vnto,
As good be idle, as haue nought to doe.
Follow not follies, shadowes, nor conceites,
For in the end they will but ill deceiue thee;
Practice no iestings, nor no iugling sleights,
For in the end discretion will perceiue thee;
And when that woe and want doth ouertake thee,
Fortune will faile thee, and the world forsake thee.
Loose not thy time with looking after toyes,
Nor fall to building castles in the ayre;
Let Nature's iewells neuer be thy ioyes,
But loue the beauty of the inward faire;
Where e're thou goe, let trueth and vertue guide thee,
And then be sure no euill can betide thee.
Spend not thy patrimony in apparrell,
In cardes nor dice, in horses, hawkes, or houndes;
Maintaine thy right, but make no idle quarrell,
And keepe thyselfe within Discretion's boundes;
Abuse no friend, nor trust an enemy,
And keepe thyselfe from wicked company.
Reuenge no wrong, except it bee too greate,
True valour liues in sparing, not in spilling;
Deny no truce that Mercy doth intreate,
A cruell conquest that doth end in killing:
For Patience findes that poison's wrath to death,
An angry word is but an angry breath.
Bid them feare God that meane to shun the deuill
And hate the deuill that would come to God,
And say, when children are enclinde to euill
Parents sometime of force must vse the rodde;
For sinne is hatefull in Iehouah's eyes,
And Man his life but in His mercie lyes.
FINIS.