University of Virginia Library

THE AVTHOR CONTINVES HIS FORMER DISCOVRSE, Anatomizing Man more fully in these foure Subiects.

1. Preparation. 2. Securitie. 3. Court-ship. 4. Hospitalitie.

Of Preparation.

Qui se minus parat, periet.

Well was it spoken by the Oratour,
That in each worke we should prepare before
We did attempt, least too much rashnesse breede
A strange euent, for want of good take heede.
It's true indeed, for if we should dilate
On euery Fortune, ranke, degree, and state,
We should find out by due experience,
Nought fits successe so well as Prouidence.
For as in Armies, Chiefetaines doe prepare,
To ranke their Souldiers, and haue speciall care
That euery Troupe be rightly ordered,
To th'end their Hopes may be accomplished.
Or as in Builders, ere they will assay
To reare the walls, they first will make a way
For the foundation, that the ground-worke layd,
What they intend may better be assayd.
Or as in Plow-men, let this instance be,
Though last, yet first for their antiquitie;
First till the ground, as they doe thinke it neede,
Before they sow in it their hopefull seede;
So should each man before he doe depart,
Till and manure the furrowes of his heart,
That th'Earthly seed of his corruption may
Put incorruption on another day.
And like that holy Father, whom we reade,
That sleeping, waking, or what ere he did,
He heard this Summons sounding in his eare,
“Arise ye Dead to Iudgement come appeare.
Or that Deuout and Blest Anachorite,
Who thought himselfe still in his Sauiours sight;
And therefore fear'd to act ought that was ill,
Seeing his Iudge was present with him still.
But 'las how few now in the world be,
That thinke the Lord their secret sins can see,
Whilest working what is ill, they think't no shame
To violate the glorious stile or name
Of their profession, (and it seemes no lesse)
By seeming goodnesse, seeming holinesse.
“Many we haue can till the fruitfull ground,
“But for mind-tillage few or none are found.
How foolish, and how carelesse then are we,
To spoyle our soules for want of husbandry?
I know not how some others thinke of it,
But sure to me, it were a matter fit,
That we should make our preparation here,
Now whil'st we liue, least when we shall appeare
Before that Throne (as we of force must come)
Hearing our crimes, we stand (as men are dumbe)
Nothing to speake, whence shall ensue our hyre,
Depart yee hence into eternall fire.
Many there be, preparing still we see,
To raise a state to their Posteritie;
Which with as prodigall a hand is spent,
(For many times they know not how it went)
As ere their Dung-hill Fathers scraped it,
“For what's ill got should goe as ill, it's fit.
Others there be to gaine their pleasures, will
Prepare themselues t'attempt the worst of ill,
No worke's too great, no instrument too fowle,
(Though't raze their name, & damne their precious soule,)
Is vn-assai'd, till they their pleasure get,
Which once obtain'd, Repentance vshers it.
Others, for Honours, with ambitious wings,
Soare to the Crownes, and Diadems of Kings:
These will prepare their Engines to attaine,
What they expect, and what they make their ayme
Must be atchieu'd: there is no other way,
Hence is't they care by night, and carke by day.
And yet behold what fruit Ambition giues,
Her care's her curse, her-selfe of life depriues;
“For of all others, seldome seene I haue,
“Ambition goe gray-headed to her graue.
Others I see, which I am loath to see,
For it includeth Albyons miserie:
Prepare themselues, not as those Virgins did,
To haue their Lamps with oyle replenished:
But with adulterate Beauties, to ensnare
Our yongling Gallants, and with brayded hayre
In Azur'd brests layd open, painted cheeke,
Loose wandring eyes, their lustfull obiects seeke.
Which sought & found, that obiect which they spie,
Makes seeming fancie sparkle in their eye.
These with as varied formes (as we doe reade
Proteus ere had) change their phantasticke weed
From day to day (ô Heauen suppresse this sin)
For blest were we, if it had neuer bin.
But yet, for all this garish Vanitie,
Read but a Lecture of Mortalitie
To these She-Sainted Idolls, you shall finde,
Some small impressions of a Vertuous minde;
As such as haue their eyes vpon the Booke
Of sacred Writ, yet how ere they looke
Vpon the Text, the Preacher's busied in,
This Text's a Pretext, but to hide their sin:
“For how so ere their eyes may seeme to stay,
“Fixt on the Text, their heart's another way.
But know (faire pictures) though with many formes
You deceiue men, you cannot deceiue wormes.
Nor will th'account (that great account) you owe,
For all your trimnes be dispen'st with so.
Prepare you better Garments then be these,
For these I thinke will not your Maker please:
Making you such strange Monsters, as I doubt
His doome will be: Away I know you not.
Some more I see, which full as busie are
How to sow difference, and therefore care
Onely to gayne themselues a faire estate,
By others wrong, oppression, and debate.
These too prepare (but not as I could wish)
Their Nets, that they in others States may fish,
And slily too, lay their pretended Suites,
Filling their Clients heads with thousand doubts;
Protesting (God forgiue them) it would please
Them very well, their Client were at peace:
When priuately, with a dissembling heart,
They vow as much vnto the aduerse part.
Yet this's a sinne which craues a libertie,
Because our Lawes giue it impunitie;
And reason good (so's Conscience tyde to pelfe)
As th'best I know, may punish't in himselfe.
Many more of this sort I know there is,
Which make their preparation, but amisse;
Few so exactly doe it, as they should,
Which makes me speake more boldly then I would;
But he that curbs Me for't, I'le answer him,
I know not how to blush in taxing sinne,
Nor will I spare him though his splene should burst,
“But curse those vices which my God hath curst.
Yet with compassion, for I know I am
My selfe that writes, as subiect to the same
As they to whom I write: Yea I doe know
Till I haue pay'd to Nature what I owe,
There is no fact how great so ere it be
Committ'd by one, but may be done by me,
If he who in the heauens hath soueraigne place,
Should not preuent me by his speciall grace.
Yet I doe wish, and I am sure of this,
That Charitie's producer of my wish,
Each would prepare for one, that when we goe
From this same Vale of teares, and Sea of woe
To the iudicious triall of Gods Throne,
Each might be fit to giue account for one.
So euery soule might with affiance say
Vnto her God, in that same dreadfull day,
Thou bad and I obey'd, and being tride,
Like to fine Gold my soule was purifide:
“Thou wil'd, I went, thy loue was my delight,
“I sought, thy Grace did crowne me in the fight.
If this indeed were weigh'd, as it should be,
Men would depart from hence more willingly;
Knowing how Death would be a meanes to giue
Life to our soules, and make vs euer liue.
Some haue I knowne, who for the same intent
Haue in their life time rear'd their Monument,
That when so ere they look'd vpon their Tombe,
They might conceiue what would of them become.
Which Shebna did, (as we in Scripture reade)
Who built his Tombe before that he was dead;
And this proceedes from doubt in many one,
Of th'heires neglect when that the Father's gone;
But see what Fate poore Shebna had, for he
Hauing prepar'd a Tombe so gorgeously,
As Art and Nature could not both inuent
A more exact or curious Monument,
Enforced was (vaine man) through times disgrace,
To take his Buriall in another place.
This speake I not for to deterre such men,
(Sith such praise-worthie rites I honour them)
From their Endeuours, as desire to haue
Themselues and theirs successors in one graue:
For, it's a custome which may seeme to be,
Authoriz'd by diuine authoritie;
Sith auncient Patriarchs, and those which came
From Iacob, Isaac, and Abraham,
Were (as in sacred Writ is oft times red)
With their deceased Fathers buried.
Yea, there is nought I of my friends doe craue
More, then to lye within my Fathers graue:
That whom I liuing lou'd, taking my breath
From him, I may renew my loue in death.
But herein I doe taxe their vanitie,
Who doe prepare them Tombs where they may lye
In State like Princes, and doe glorie in
Those monumentall couers of their sinne;
Yet are respectlesse where their soules shall dwell,
This Preparation doth not like me well.
For it's preposterous, this couer should,
(Being compos'd of nothing else then mould)
Haue such exceeding honours to attend it,
While th'Soule has not one vertue to defend it.
Pure is the Bodies shrine, but filthie foule
Is that same shrowd, which doth enfold the soule.
This is the cause that makes me to deplore
These times so ill, that were so good before:
Where vertue raign'd, and as a soueraignesse,
Made the Soule glorie in her happinesse.
Where pure Deuotion, as an heauenly light,
Directed man to doe those things were right:
Where th'soule was precious held, and whose chiefe care
Was 'gainst the day of Vengeance to prepare.
Least vnprepar'd to answer for their sinne,
They knocke at gate, but may not be let in.
Well did that holy Father thinke of this,
(Which to obserue each of vs I could wish)
Who euery night before he went to bed,
To make this due account was 'customed,
Goe to my Soule, vse not a slight delay,
But answer me, What hast thou done to day?
What hast committed of those workes are ill,
Or what omitted that thou shoul'dst fulfill?
Whom hast thou wrong'd, whom hast thou iniured,
Where be those hungry, wch thou shuld'st haue fed?
Whō hast opprest? whence comes the orphanes tere,
The Widdows prayer? Soule, I must iudge thee here,
Least by deferring Iudgement to the last,
I pay more deare, for th'Actions which be last.
Thrice happie soule, that is so well prouided,
Before his soule from bodie be deuided:
With chearefull spirit may he hence depart,
With eyes erected, and with lightsome heart:
With soule-renewing comforts, and with peace,
With hope, with health, with Saints compleate encrease;
With zeale, with ioy, with hope of libertie,
To rest in him who ends our miserie.
O may we so liue in vnited loue,
That ones example may another moue;
So by Examples we at last shall come,
With ioy and triumph to the marriage-roome.

Of Securitie.

Si securus, vres.

No vice I thinke, that euer was, or is,
Endāgers th'soule of man, so much as this.
Which that I may define, it seemes to be
The sleepe of sin, or the soules Lethargie,
Sencelesse, and carelesse of what ere befall,
Secure then, when she should most of all
Stand on her guard, nor is she 'fraid a whit
Of any harme, till she encounter it.
This Vice consorts with such as loue to feede,
And cram themselues: where she doth vse to breed
These perturbations in the minde of Man,
Whence th'Source of our Corruption first began.
Lust, ryot, sloth, contempt of Godlinesse,
Pride, dissolution, and forgetfulnesse
Of what we are, exposing (O most fowle)
The glorious substance of an heauenly soule,
Vnto the basest seruitude, that is,
To wit, th'delights of Earthly vanities.
Yea, I may say there is no Vice at all
That makes th'Soules motion so vnnaturall
Vnto her selfe, as doth Securitie:
Since th'Soule, which should in action euer be,
Becomes by her, slothfull, remisse, and dull,
Prest by a Belly that is euer full.
Many we haue that labour of this vice,
Yea, of this sinne our Great-men haue a spice;
Who with the Rich-man fare deliciously,
Are clad in purple, and neglectfully
Looke on the poore, while lulled in sinnes lapp,
They neuer mind what afterward may happ:
These giue no eare vnto the pitious mones,
Nor dolefull shrikings of distressed ones;
These are secure of their poore Brothers grieues,
“For they haue some sow pillows to their sleeues.
Euen Prelates which should peirce the eares of Kings
But they doe worse in speaking pleasant things;
For well they finde more profit's to be got
By smeering vice, as if they knew it not,
Then by displaying vices that are bred,
For this hath caus'd some to be silenced.
O age! When men that are the mouths of God,
And should not spare to shake the fearefull rod
Of his displeasure, will for some light matter,
Reuolt from God, and be induc'd to flatter:
But of all other, there's none so secure,
Or prone vnto it, as the Epicure.
For we may heare him euer bent to cry
Let's eate and drinke, to morrow we shall die.
A strange perswasion, and an Argument
As't seemes to me, from Reason different,
That shortnesse of our Time should make's forget
Our selues so much, as to be giuen to eate
When we should die: if this approu'd might be,
“There were some cause of mans Securitie.
When after Death, and that our Time is gone,
There were no farther matter to be done.
But there is something in vs, that doth show,
And tell vs plaine, our End must not be so,
Which may be prou'd by our Experience,
If we haue felt the sting of Conscience.
Yea, whatsoere our Atheist obiect,
Against that high and supreme Archi-tect,
Though now he feele it not, he must confesse,
And that with Gall of inward bitternesse,
There is a power (and that a diuine power)
Who will auenge him of the wicked doer.
But some I heare to argue in this sort,
(And with my soule I am much sorry for't:)
“This day we may enioy our pleasures; true
“And then you'l, what, begin next day anew
To vse those pleasures which you did before,
And so from day to day treasure vp store
Of Vengeance; O how fearefull is this path,
To trace you on vnto the day of wrath?
Hence you presume of God: but doe not thinke,
“That God doth sleepe, tho he may seeme to winke.
For like as in th'old World we doe reade,
When they had sported, feasted, married,
And now became as those that care-lesse were,
Through ryot, and excessiue belly-cheere:
The Flood came on them, so as we may see,
They were cut off in their Securitie:
Euen so may you, that seeme to make delay
Of your Conuersion thus, from day to day,
Be taken napping in your height of sinne,
How fearefull then's the case that you are in?
I know delight in Sinne, doth Custome bring,
And Custome to Securitie's the Spring
Which makes vs hardned (adding to Sinnes store)
Which more in number, seeme lesse then before.
But that we may, against this Hydra fight,
'First head we cut off must be sins Delight,
Which when we haue lopt off, we may begin
To take away the Custome of this sinne.
And so through want of Custome, we may free
Our selues in time of this Securitie.
O that we would consider but our dayes,
How short they are, and with how many wayes
We are enclos'd with Foes on euery side,
With inward motions, as with lust and pride:
With outward motions, as with bayts of sinne,
Where euery Sence doth let a Traytour in.
O then we would be wise, and stand in doubt,
Least these foes should get in, that now are out.
Nor can we be too warie of our foes,
Since we are pestered with some of those
Which are within our Bosome nourished,
And as our lifes more dearely tendred:
These be our houshold friends, which sting to death,
Depriuing them of life, which gaue them breath.
“And of all others none annoy men so,
“As doth a priuate or domesticke foe.
For he by subtile vnsuspected guile,
(Pretending nought but amitie the while)
Enters the Fort (and like a cunning Elfe)
Becomes a very Traytor to himselfe.
Yet so, as when his practises haue end,
This seeming friend, becomes an hellish fiend.
Yea, we shall finde his saying true, who sayth,
Securenesse brings Apostacie of Faith,
Which is approu'd in many a wretched man,
As for example in that Iulian,
Who through securitie despis'd the rod
Of Iustice, and turn'd Rebell vnto God.
Yea, many such euen in this Age we know,
Who start a-side, like to a broken Bow:
And are forgetfull (as before was said)
For what especiall purpose they were made.
Hence may I iustly taxe the Libertine,
Who idly spends the most part of his Time,
In prophanation of the Sabboth day,
And in the streetes neglectfully doth stay,
As if there were no Vineyard where he might
Labour one houre at least, before't be night:
And yet I doe not grieue for them so much,
As I in due compassion, doe for such,
Who haue beene idling, both in youth and age,
And now nere th'End of their frayle Pilgrimage:
Are now as farre from God, when they haue done,
Nay, farther too, then when they first begun.
O misery! that men who reason haue,
And now through age, haue one foote in the graue,
Should through a wilful blindnes, thus bewray
Such mad greene thoughts, now when their heads be gray.
Me thinkes those furrowes which be in their face,
Should as a Mirrour tell them here's no place
Long to dwell in, or if they would but see
Gray hayres, those Heralds of Mortalitie,
Which as predictions, Age is wont to send,
Me thinkes they might remember now their end.
But this they will not: they'l endure no Glasse,
Lest they should see how soone their time doth passe.
Sure I doe thinke, what th'Morall sayd of old,
Of all that be nought's viler to behold,
Then such a man, who many yeares hath spent,
Yet of his yeares can show no Argument,
Saue his Gray-haires: for he doth Nature wrong,
That shows no fruits how he hath liued long.
Yea, we should know great difference appeares
Twixt our expence of houres, and of yeares,
For many may be aged in the one,
Who leaue no Name behind when they are gone:
Such is th'Expence of yeares, but happie they,
Who by their houres doe measure out their day;
For when they die, the vertues of their minde,
Like a sweete Oyntment leaue their smell behinde.
Thus much in briefe of th'Vice: now't doth remaine
To speake, where this Securitie doth raigne.

Of Court-ship.

Et tacuisse nocet.

Before I enter this secure repose,
There comes such store of perfumes to my nose,
I am nere stifled: but I haue a tricke,
By meanes of Art will tutch them to the quicke;
And so disperse these sweetly

Ayming onely at such, whose sense consists in sent with reseruation of his best thoughts to the Noble affected Courtier.

sented men,
As hardly there will one appeare 'mongst ten,
And this it is: I'le canvase vp their Vices.
Their braine-sicke humors, and their strange deuices;
Their Courting, Congeing, and their Coniuring,
Their Culling, Clipping, Cringing, Capering;
Their garish weares, and apish complement,
And so I hope, I shall disperse this sent:
Which, if my footing were not all more speedie,
Might haue infected well my Braine alreadie.
Rouse then thy selfe (my Muse) and sprightly on
Vnto these men are made of Cinnamon.
Which Similee can hardly be denide.
Their rind being better then all th'bulke beside.
Me thinkes I see a new inuented State,
Of foure Coach-horses standing at the gate,
With distinct Furniture accordingly,
To shew his Lordships honors liuery:
Next this I see two Irish Lackyes stand,
With eyther one a horse rod in his hand,
Wherewith they oft times make the Beggars feele
The lash, for following their Lords Coach wheele.
Close be their Breeches made vnto their thighes,
Guarded like two Pie-collor'd Butterflies;
So as to see these Iack-a-lents come after,
Would make a man halfe dead, burst out with laughter.
There straight I see a Prisoner through a grate,
Desire their Lord to be compassionate;
While Court like, he, stops his relentlesse eare,
And eyther cannot heare, or scorns to heare.
Thus in all State goes this Magnifico,
With 4 Coach-horse, one Coach-man Pages two,
Which seuen without him make the Number euen
With Romes 7 Mounts, for they make likewise seuen.
Then must his Trayne be great, it cannot chuse,
Being in attendance growne so mountainous:
But let him passe, this Errour is but small,
To other-some, that I must cope withall.
Next thing I see, is one that's like a man,
Yet so disguis'd, discerne him not I can,
Nor well distinguish him, by outward shape
From some strange Monkey-fac't Arabian Ape.
Faces he makes of such a seuerall sort,
I cannot show them, to be hanged for't:
But sure I am (for ought I vnderstand)
He found not such strange faces in our Land,
For ciuill Albyon is, and cannot brooke
To looke, but as her Maker bids her looke.
Yet this same strange proportion'd Caualliere,
Or new Italianated Courtier,
Drawes Admiration to him in each place,
And by disguises gets especiall grace.
For while he has the garbe of forraine Courts,
And all the morne he spends in distinct sorts
Of French, Italian, Germaine Complement,
Zwelan, Venetian, Dutch accoutrement:
Where he will speake of th'state of euery Court,
Yet knowes not but onely by report.
Yet would it doe ones heart good to heare,
His strange discourse, though he was neuer there.
Vp must his fashions goe, which though they seeme
Th'ill fauouredst ones, that euer yet were seene.
They are in most request, and he's an Asse,
That hates th'fashion, or will let it passe.
And now, because there commeth to my minde
An auncient Storie, which I chanc't to finde,
'Mongst other workes of serious consequence,
I meane to write it, as I tooke't from thence.
The Scythians a people stout and bold,
Though much annoy'd by violence of cold;
Were euer held (as by their Acts is showne)
The truest heyres of honour and renowne:
Yet in their height of Triumph and Estate,
They fell becomming too effeminate.
For when the prosperous gailes of Victorie,
Had made them proud of their prosperitie,
And good successe had so blowne vp their minde,
As Fortune-like, their Fortune made them blind.
They straight begun to cast away their Armes,
As if they were secure of after-harmes;
And like new-fangle Humorists, desire
To mould themselues into some quaint attire.
Which to performe, they presently intend
Some odd conceited fellow for to send,
To forraine Coasts, that he thereby might come
To gaine some fashions, and so bring them home.
Straight one addressed was who forthwith went
And compast round the Northerne Continent,
Where though he saw strange fashions, yet was he
Not so contented but would farther see.
At last, inclining South-ward, there he stayde
Within an Iland: and so long survayde
The Customes, Natures, and the strange attire
Of th'people there, as he did much admire
(So sottish was this Scythian Traueller)
The phrenticke habit of the Ilander.
Who wore no garment, but from foote to head
With plumes of Birds vs'de to be fethered,
So as he seem'd (sayth Storie) in a word,
In forme a man, but clothed like a Bird.
This when the curious Scythian had seene,
To trauell any further did not meane;
But with glad heart determin'd to returne,
And shew his Country th'fashions that were worne.
Yet thought, ere he his iourney would begin,
To take some of those fethers 'long with him.
And there-withall to take aduice, had care,
Of one of th'best experienst Taylors there,
How to dispose the fethers, as they lay,
Which hauing learn'd, he posted on his way,
After long Trauayle he at last arriu'd
In his owne Country, which no lesse reuiu'd
His long-expecting Country-men, then when
There comes repriuall to condemned men.
And as we see Birds flocke against ill wether,
So all in troupes they crowded in together.
Vowing withall, what Country, or what Nation
So ere it were, they would obserue the fashion.
Forth comes his fethers pluckt from Peacocks, Owles,
Wood-cockes, and Phesants, and all fethred Fowles,
Directing them how ordered they should be,
(And that of all the Countries he did see)
Though many in strange fashions did excell,
Yet none like this did please him halfe so well.
No sooner had the barbarous Multitude,
Seene these strange nifles, but they forthwith sew'd,
That this might be authoriz'd, through the Court,
That who so ere (being of the better sort)
For none saue such admitted were to weare
This Bird-like weede, should from that time appeare
In publique place, vntill they had put on
This new-found Roabe, which was agree'd vpon.
Then might you see the Garments which of old
Were Furrs of Beasts to keepe them from the cold;
Cleare throwne away, and none of ranke there were
But did discard their auncient Country-weare.
But long they had not vs'd this forraine fashion,
But each was troubled with a sundry passion:
One with a Sowing-humour in his head,
Another was as much distempered
With collicke: he, with shortnesse of his breath,
This man through cold had nerely catcht his death,
For why; this weare fitt'd not the Scythians,
But those tan-skinned Æthiopians,
Whose sulphurous heate might better farre allow
Of such light weeds, then their sharpe aire could doe.
One of the wisest of this Barbarous crew,
Now seeing, what was likely to ensue,
Command'd forthwith (experience maks men witty)
Certaine chiefe men to fire a part o'th'Cittie:
Which done, an Vprore presently arose
Through all the streets, and to the Court-gate goes:
The chill cold Courtiers knew not what it meant,
Yet all amazed thought for to preuent
This dangerous fire, in hast therefore they came
Forth of the Court, to quench this threatning flame:
All fethred as they were: but (see mad Soules)
The flame catcht hold on these tame-fethred Fowles,
And th'more they sought by labour to appease it,
The more they did by their soft Plumes encrease it:
Long had they not about these Fire-workes beene,
But there was not a fether to be seene;
Which cing'd and gone, the fire encreas'd no more,
But was supprest, that grew so great before.
After which time no fashions they'd retaine,
But thought it meete to take their owne againe.
I might be taxed for a knavish wit,
If I in briefe should seeme to morall it.
And therefore haue Resolu'd to let it passe,
And be reputed for some Braine-sicke Asse,
That spent his oyle and labour for delight,
Then to be forc't to answer what I write.
For other slight abuses in the Court,
Doubting I might be brought in question for't.
If I should taxe the greatest; I'me prepar'd,
Here to deblaze them briefely afterward.

Of Hospitalitie.

Non eadem est ætas.

Thou thing out of Request, for vnto thee,
That was an honour to our Auncestrie,
The poore mans Supportresse, Trauellers Repose,
To thee will I my sorrows now disclose;
For well I know (if any good there be)
Their very hearts doe bleed with griefe for thee.
Where be those many Officers thou had,
'Las they'r discarded and may run starke mad,
But nere be pittied, a flout or mocke
Is their Salute, their stoue a whipping stocke;
Their wages lashes, their repast bare Platters,
Their wine, pure Conduit-Renish, garments, tatters.
O thou that once (by Times eternall Storie)
Was clept our Ilands port, our Englands glorie:
Thou that by thy strong family kept out,
Iack Straw, Wat Tyler, and that rabble rout
Of factious Noualists who sought t'infest,
By their distempred heads, our Countries rest;
Thou that supprest such tumults by thy hand,
As menaced the quiet of our Land;
How art thou vanisht, or where art become,
That thou doest keepe so seldome times at home?
Way-faring men, when they but chanc't to looke,
Were glad at heart, to see thy Chymneys smooke.
When now as I and many more suppose,
Thy Chymney-smoke is turned to thy Nose.
Yea, such as vs'd by thee to take repast,
May sooner breake their neck then breake their fast.
But whence proceedes this threatning miserie?
From thee (thou curse of Albyon) Vsurie;
Soule-rankling Poyson, State-deuouring sinne.
That makes dice on mens bones, and fleas their skin.
Thou lay'st vnhallowed fist on each estate,
And makes the poore come cursing to thy gate;
Thou ruines walled townes, and thee't doth please
To turne great houses into cottages.
There's none (for thee) can reape content in life
Not from the Prince vnto the Oyster wife.
It's thou layes hold vpon each familie,
Seazing on persons of all qualities.
For where's the May game, and the Morice dance,
The auncient Blew-coate, and his cognisance;
Where's those Black-iacks which vsed were at first
For the way-faring man to quench his thirst?
Vanisht, they'r vanisht: where? to the Court,
Beleeue me (poore-men) I am sorrie for't.
For pittie is it, that a place so great,
Should (of Reliefe) our needie people cheate.
Thus Hospitalitie is banisht cleere,
Betwixt the Court, and th'damned Vsurer;
It's rare to see a man of Worship ride,
With more then one poore Lackie at his side;
Or if he haue a man or two at most,
He couenants for feare of too much cost,
That each of them (so niggardly's the Elfe)
Should be at charges to maintaine himselfe.
And sure me thinkes, these Great-men that retyre,
As I may say, vnto an other's fire;
Shutting vp house, and all, that who should looke
That way, should scarcely see a Chymney smooke:
Might become rich: for why, they nought bestow,
Their meanes be great, the rate they liue at, low;
Small's their attendance, slender is their port,
And shut their Buttery-hatch to barre resort.
But why should I thinke so? as they from th'poore
Hold backe their hand, the Lord holds back his store.
That Widdow of Sarepta (as we reade)
Had still her Arke with meale replenished;
And th'more she gaue, she still receiu'd the more,
For God encreas'd her much-decreased store.
But Naball that rich Churle, who denide
To giue to Dauid, seeming to deride
This zealous King, with who is Dauid say,
That I should giue my coine and meate away?
What end had he? He was depriu'd of all,
His state, his store, his life, his Abigall.
And he, whom Naball did deride before,
Became the sole possessour of his store.
“For he that liuing will not th'poore reward,
“Shall be enforc't to giue it afterward.
But vnto thee my Muse addresseth first,
(And heauen forbid I blesse what God hath curst)
Who doest consume the Sun-shine of thy dayes
In damn'd Oppression, and all workes delayes
Of Charitie, and Almes-workes till death
And desolation choake thy corrupt breath.
Thou Earth-mould thou, who as it seemes to me,
Hadst thy beginning from that Familie
Of th'Braucadori, which in Florence are,
Extorting Bankers, and so Named were,
(Because the Word if rightly vnderstood)
Signifies scrape Gold (or in briefe) scrape-Good.
It's thou my Muse shall freely reprehend,
Beginning fresh, when seeming at an end;
And heauen I wish, that it were put to me,
What punishment should be infflict on thee.
For then (be sure) of what degree or sort,
So ere thou wer't, that I would plague thee for't.
Yea in an auncient Cannon reade we shall,
This ranke denied Christian Buriall.
So as their Bones were neuer to be found,
Interr'd in any part of holy Ground.
And true it is (for th'Reason is allow'd)
That the confused rout and multitude
Of Lawyers and Physitians, which are bred,
(Like Horse flies) from a State distempered,
Are signes of ill-disposed Bodies, sure,
And long's that State not likely to endure.
Yea, of these two, I know not whether's worse,
To purge the bodie, or to purge the purse:
Both strange distempers breed: whence it is meant
A Clyent is his Lawyers Patient.
But th'Number of our grating Vsurers,
Their Factors, and those eare markt Scriuiners;
While they within our Country are remaining
Show a disease that's fatall 'mongst vs raigning.
But hast I must, and passe from Vsurie,
The greatest foe to Hospitalitie:
And speake a word or two vnto the Court,
Showing those wrongs she doth the poorer sort.
Thou Princely Seate, whose bountie like a streame
Should water each drie corner of our Realme;
Harbour not such, as should themselues expresse
By giuing harbour to the harborlesse.
Let them not there haue any residence,
But banish them (thou starre of honour) thence:
That in their Country they may once appeare.,
Such good House-keepers as their Fathers were.
This done, thou shalt bring glorie to thy Court,
And needfull Soules relieu'd shall blesse thee for't.