Natures Embassie Or, The Wilde-mans Measvres: Danced naked by twelve Satyres, with sundry others continued in the next Section [by Richard Brathwait] |
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43
THE NINTH SATYRE. [OF BEGGARIE.]
Hyppeas, your cloake I craue, that is my due,
Your stockings too, and such like toyes as these,
Free to bestow a Bountie were in you,
And yet a debt, for you do know my fee's.
But Debt to mention I do think't vnfit,
When Bountie is so neare to answer it.
Your stockings too, and such like toyes as these,
Free to bestow a Bountie were in you,
And yet a debt, for you do know my fee's.
But Debt to mention I do think't vnfit,
When Bountie is so neare to answer it.
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And yet I want, and yet what can I want,
When He of whom I craue's so prone to giue?
When store by Ioue is sent, there is no scant,
All famine leaue, and all in plentie liue.
See what thou wants then Minthos, and but craue it,
Hyppeus is stor'd, and thou art sure to haue it.
When He of whom I craue's so prone to giue?
When store by Ioue is sent, there is no scant,
All famine leaue, and all in plentie liue.
See what thou wants then Minthos, and but craue it,
Hyppeus is stor'd, and thou art sure to haue it.
Belt, Beuer, Buskin, view from top to toe,
See what thou wants his Wardrope will supply,
And laugh at him when thou hast vs'd him so,
And bid him triumph in his victory.
Let him go nak'd, and boast what he hath doue,
Whilest thou enioyes the Booties he hath won.
See what thou wants his Wardrope will supply,
And laugh at him when thou hast vs'd him so,
And bid him triumph in his victory.
Let him go nak'd, and boast what he hath doue,
Whilest thou enioyes the Booties he hath won.
Yet tearme him Prince of bountie, and requite
In seeming Protestations, and in vowes,
Yet care not for him when he's out of sight;
For those thriue best who can make fairest shows:
In speaking much, but little as they meane,
And being such, but not the same they seeme.
In seeming Protestations, and in vowes,
Yet care not for him when he's out of sight;
For those thriue best who can make fairest shows:
In speaking much, but little as they meane,
And being such, but not the same they seeme.
I would I could, thus maist thou bring him on,
I could extend my wealth vnto my will,
I would erect to show what you haue done,
Some Time-outliuing Monument, to fill
The world with amazement, when they heare
What you haue bene, and what your actions were.
I could extend my wealth vnto my will,
I would erect to show what you haue done,
Some Time-outliuing Monument, to fill
The world with amazement, when they heare
What you haue bene, and what your actions were.
And then impart thy want, how fortunes are
Vnequally deuided, yet to such
As He whose Bountie giues to each his share,
Though much he hath, yet ha's he not too much:
And then with cap in hand beseech his worth,
Be good to thee, that's borne of obscure birth.
Vnequally deuided, yet to such
As He whose Bountie giues to each his share,
Though much he hath, yet ha's he not too much:
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Be good to thee, that's borne of obscure birth.
Indeed thou seemes to be an obscure Asse,
A spacious Beggar, begging euery where,
Who wilt not suffer a patcht boote to passe,
But thou wilt beg it for thy leg that's bare.
Indeed too bare thou art, too impudent,
That with thy owne state canst not be content.
A spacious Beggar, begging euery where,
Who wilt not suffer a patcht boote to passe,
But thou wilt beg it for thy leg that's bare.
Indeed too bare thou art, too impudent,
That with thy owne state canst not be content.
Pesantlike Bastard, hate thy Beggarie,
Liue on thy owne, not on anothers state;
Thou that descendest from base penurie,
Wilt by thy Begging liue at higher rate?
Numbred thou art amongst such men as begs,
The smoke of Chimnies, snuffes, and Vintner's dregs.
Liue on thy owne, not on anothers state;
Thou that descendest from base penurie,
Wilt by thy Begging liue at higher rate?
Numbred thou art amongst such men as begs,
The smoke of Chimnies, snuffes, and Vintner's dregs.
Thou art defam'd, for all deride thy kneeling,
Thy capping, cringing, and thy temporizing,
As if thou hadst of modestie no feeling,
But from anothers razing drew thy rising.
Well, for thy begging we will beg for thee,
The Pattent of disgrace and infamie.
Thy capping, cringing, and thy temporizing,
As if thou hadst of modestie no feeling,
But from anothers razing drew thy rising.
Well, for thy begging we will beg for thee,
The Pattent of disgrace and infamie.
So with thy wallet as a beggar should,
Be not asham'd to seeme that which thou art,
Sowe patch on patch, to keepe thee from the cold,
And shew thy want in each seame-rented part:
But do not rere thy fortunes on mens fall,
For such base Beggars are the worst of all.
Be not asham'd to seeme that which thou art,
Sowe patch on patch, to keepe thee from the cold,
And shew thy want in each seame-rented part:
But do not rere thy fortunes on mens fall,
For such base Beggars are the worst of all.
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I write not to thee in a sublime stile,
Such is vnfit thy errors to conuince;
Satyres though rough, are plaine and must reuile
Uice with a Cynicke bluntnesse, as long since
Those graue iudicious Satyrists did vse,
Who did not taxe the time, but times abuse.
Such is vnfit thy errors to conuince;
Satyres though rough, are plaine and must reuile
Uice with a Cynicke bluntnesse, as long since
Those graue iudicious Satyrists did vse,
Who did not taxe the time, but times abuse.
And yet I wish my pen were made of steele,
And euery leafe, a leafe of lasting brasse,
Which might beare record to this Commonweale,
When this Age's past, to Ages that shall passe.
But these as others must, shall lose their name,
And we their Authors too must die with them.
And euery leafe, a leafe of lasting brasse,
Which might beare record to this Commonweale,
When this Age's past, to Ages that shall passe.
But these as others must, shall lose their name,
And we their Authors too must die with them.
Yet well I know, I shall Characterd be,
In liuing letters, prouing what I write,
To be authenticke to posteritie,
To whom this Ages vices I recite.
Which, much I doubt, as they're successiue still,
By course of yeares, so they'le succeed in ill.
In liuing letters, prouing what I write,
To be authenticke to posteritie,
To whom this Ages vices I recite.
Which, much I doubt, as they're successiue still,
By course of yeares, so they'le succeed in ill.
For vice nere dyes intestate, but doth leaue,
Something behind, to shew what it hath bene;
Yea canting knaues that hang on others sleeue,
Can charge their heires still to pursue the streame,
Where Iohn a style bequeathes to Iohn a noke,
His Beggars rags, his dish, his scrip, his poke.
Something behind, to shew what it hath bene;
Yea canting knaues that hang on others sleeue,
Can charge their heires still to pursue the streame,
Where Iohn a style bequeathes to Iohn a noke,
His Beggars rags, his dish, his scrip, his poke.
With which Ile beg; no, with my soule I scorne it,
Ile rather carrie tankards on my backe;
Yet th' trade is thriuing, true, but I'ue forsworne it,
Nor would I beg, though competent I lacke.
Before I should make congies to a swayne,
I would for sweare to take my legs againe.
Ile rather carrie tankards on my backe;
Yet th' trade is thriuing, true, but I'ue forsworne it,
Nor would I beg, though competent I lacke.
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I would for sweare to take my legs againe.
I am but poore, and yet I scorne to beg.
To be a Bastard to my Progenie,
Yea I will rather with Sycites feg,
Receiue my death, then get me infamie.
I'le be a galley-slaue in Turkish ship.
Rather then scrape my crums out of a scrip.
To be a Bastard to my Progenie,
Yea I will rather with Sycites feg,
Receiue my death, then get me infamie.
I'le be a galley-slaue in Turkish ship.
Rather then scrape my crums out of a scrip.
Bias was poore, and yet his wealth increased,
All that he had he carried still about him;
Bias is dead, his goods by death are seised,
Mydas is poore, his goods were all without him.
Bias and Mydas both agree in this,
Earths blisse when we're in earth quite vanish'd is.
All that he had he carried still about him;
Bias is dead, his goods by death are seised,
Mydas is poore, his goods were all without him.
Bias and Mydas both agree in this,
Earths blisse when we're in earth quite vanish'd is.
Candaules he was rich, yet he was poore,
Rich in his coffers rammed downe with gold,
Yet poore in this, his wife did proue a whoore,
Showne naked vnto Gyges to behold.
Collatine poore, yet rich, his wife is chast.
Both these agree in this, by death embrast.
Rich in his coffers rammed downe with gold,
Yet poore in this, his wife did proue a whoore,
Showne naked vnto Gyges to behold.
Collatine poore, yet rich, his wife is chast.
Both these agree in this, by death embrast.
Irus was poore, but Crœsus passing rich,
Irus his scrip differs from Crœsus board,
Yet now compare them and I know not which,
Is better furnish'd or the worser stor'd:
For see their fates, they both in one agree,
Since by pale Death they both arrested be.
Irus his scrip differs from Crœsus board,
Yet now compare them and I know not which,
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For see their fates, they both in one agree,
Since by pale Death they both arrested be.
Priscillaes purse,
Demosthenes his hand,
Do differ much, the one is alwayes shut,
The other open, for rewards doth stand;
Yet if we measure either by his foot,
That close-shut purse, and that receiuing hand,
Haue equall shares made by the Sextons wand.
Do differ much, the one is alwayes shut,
The other open, for rewards doth stand;
Yet if we measure either by his foot,
That close-shut purse, and that receiuing hand,
Haue equall shares made by the Sextons wand.
Yet Beggar, thou that begs, and hopes to gaine
Store of rewards, for to relieue thy need.
Or surfet rather, tell me what's thy aime,
When those thou feeds, shall on thy carkasse feed?
For then where's the Beggar now become,
Whose shame's too great, to hide with shroud or tombe?
Store of rewards, for to relieue thy need.
Or surfet rather, tell me what's thy aime,
When those thou feeds, shall on thy carkasse feed?
For then where's the Beggar now become,
Whose shame's too great, to hide with shroud or tombe?
Take these rude Satyres as compos'd by him
Who loues his state farre better then thy trade,
For Beggars lose more then they seeme to win,
Since their esteeme for euer's blemished:
Liue at a lower rate, and beg the lesse.
I'le liue to write, if thou thy fault redresse.
Who loues his state farre better then thy trade,
For Beggars lose more then they seeme to win,
Since their esteeme for euer's blemished:
Liue at a lower rate, and beg the lesse.
I'le liue to write, if thou thy fault redresse.
Amicus non Mendicus.
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