University of Virginia Library

SECT. II.

A sharking thiefe, how knaves do spend
Their Master's goods, and of the end
That Strumpets have, the Letchers gold,
One lov'd young flesh and starv'd being old.
One welcomes three, the dance is round,
The Laundresse plea, a Charter found.
The Drunkards moanes, the Fiends do rise.
He falls dispairing so he dies.
By this, the middle Region was refin'd
The fire-fac't Travellours did in their kind
Post through the azure globe: but from above
The distance great, I could not see'em move.
The Metamorphis'd Nimph, did sometimes hide
Her face with cipresse like a maiden Bride:
But suddenly the sawcie clouds would rush
Most rudely by them, with a modest blush

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She'd over-looke the world. Muse do not thou
Sing comick straines, thou'st tragick fancies now
To try thy Genius: yonder comes a theefe,

A thief


Who seekes at doores and windowes for reliefe;
If he can snap a prey, that would redeeme
His losse amongst his drabs, he would esteem
Himselfe a happie bruit: and it would be
A coverlet, and present remedie
For drunkennesse, and lost; he's very bare,
The spending of his money bought his care.
He cannot speed as yet, oh, this a spite!
His wife and children have not supt to night;
They wait his coming home, had he but sped
With any thing that would but purchase bread,
'Twould serve for once: but home he must not goe
Till he hath toucht, his shaddow tells him so.
A little further there a rout I spide,
Feasting and kissing; where they did divide
Their Masters goods by retaile, every jade
Must have her share, then she will freely trade;
They sparing not for cost, provide such cheare,
Their Masters would be glad of once a yeare:
They drinke their Mistris health, and then they woo,
They'l pay, and so away, yet tarrie too,
To drink another pottle we'l allow,
We meet but seldome, let's be merrie now.
With many times adieu, at last they part,
Each one with corner kisses leaves his heart.
Then meet I with a Trub, most shamelesse, vild,
Sh' was of the old translation, big with child,

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And wants a father for't: now, if she can,
She does intend to shame a guiltlesse man.
Her friends had cast her off: she hopes to find
(Though they are harsh) their nearest neighbour kind:
He being honest, scornes to bribe this whore,
Shee'll after wait to leave it at his doore.
When this was past, a fierce enammell'd Queane
Came raging with her Whiskin, who did meane
To trade in mischiefe; they a match did make,
To indure Hell for one anothers sake:
They newly came from prison, bail'd from thence
By Mutton-mongers, who for recompence
Crave but her love: and now they may abuse
Their neighbours freely; neither can they chuse,
Because it fits their tempers. Oh, abhor it!
They think in time to get a Patent for it.
A Justice with his Letter makes a way:
When that is done, it will encrease their joy.
The next a sordid Letcher, verie old,
Tempting a modest Beautie with his gold:
Though sin had suckt him drie, yet his desire
Did mock his lust into a foolish fire.

A deniall


In his conceit, if he his will could have,
'Twould make him young, and keep him from his grave.
But she being wisely honest, would not fawne
On him, nor's gold, to lay her soule to pawne.
Ere this was past, I heard a woman crie,
Being weak with age; Ah, wo is me! must I
Be faine to beg my bread? I married thee
Being young, for pitie, that thy miserie

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Might be remov'd, thee succor'd, being poore,
My wealth I made thine owne; and thou this store
Hast vainely spent, thou slight'st me in my need,
Now I am punisht 'cause I did thee feed.
Another yet? a doore being open made,
Two men together lying by a jade,
'Twas monstrous to behold, they would away,
She past all shame, desired them to stay,
I thought they had been brothers, made a stand,
To see a third man seize upon their land:
And at his entrance if he'l give a fee

Three to one


He may be one, for she had room for three:
Help her but in a case, conceale the crime,
She'l pleasure him at any other time.
Just as I stept away, I lookt about,
I saw a place, from whence came dauncing out
A troup of Gallants, other while they staid,
Somtimes the fidler sung, somtimes hee plaid.
The sparke that led the daunce, was all in blacke,
He cut his capers till the strings did cracke.
And then he stunke apace, they fear'd no weather,
What need they feare seeing they were drunk together?
The dances being past, it was my fate
To see a Landresse, who had been so late
To fetch her Masters linnen, all was husht,
She went in pale, but coming out she blusht.
But making her defence thus (quicke enough)
I by mis-fortune, did forget a ruffe,

A Landresse


Which I must starch, before I close mine eyes,
And bring it home, before he'l please to rise.

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I do no ill, mistrust me not, I pray;
I come so late, 'cause he's from home all day.
But after this, I heard (without a cause)
A Pimping cheater raile against the Lawes;
He had for's villanie been lately whipt,
Warm'd in the hand, then shoulder markt and snipt:
O cruell times! hard bound! and thus he sits,
This is an Age, we cannot use our wits.
I pimp, I shark, and steale, (do I amisse?)
Yet cannot be allow'd, to live by this;
A Senior thus reply'd, Do'st thou begin
To curse the Law, which shames thee for thy sin?
Hell gapes for such as thee: then out he flings
'Bis pueri senes, is the note he sings.
My Muse with sad conceits begins to scan
The Centinels, where first my Search began;
I heard such moanes as cut my heart like swords,
Consisting more in groanes, and lesse in words:
A dying sinner loath to change his life,
For whom vast hell is with the earth at strife;
He drunk into a surfeit, he must have
The hottest wines, there's coldnesse in the grave;
Fill me the t'other bowle, I like it well,
They say such liquor's very scarce in hell:
Alas it will not downe! ah, now must I
Go down, down, down, where I shall still be dry.
Then crying towards the shadow of the Moone,
Away ye horrid Fiends! yee come too soone!
I am not rotten yet, though I am curst,
Oh, do not take me, till I've quencht my thirst!

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Earth, wilt thou leave thy friend? and as he cry'd
My hope is gone, he of the surfeit dy'd.

His Epitaph.

Forbeare ye tender hearts, let not your eyes
Drop pearles in vaine: h'was wet too much before:
He was a sink to what the grave denies,
Death yeoman of his celler, keeps the doore.
He dranke himselfe to dust, nor can his skin
Keep out the wormes, which kept the liquor in.
I see my charge is heavie, what will fall,
In my precinct, when I shall sum up all?
I have a strange beginning! who will share

Complaints


With me in paines? or undertake my care?
All kinds of walking spirits I must meet,
Though they are wrapt in skin: the open street
Gives all the succour I am like to find,
To cheare my wearie muse, or ease my mind.
Man that was made of all the creatures free,
The beasts are not such vassalls now as hee.
He's borne, he lives, and dyes, yet never knowes
His errand to the world: nor what he owes
To him that fram'd him in his mothers womb,
His soule is out at use, untill his tomb
Closeth upon his flesh: and then hard stones
With natures leave, are partners with his bones.
You have but yet a tast, to what I will
Discover to your view of night-born ill.
I cannot passe my serious part so brief,
'Twill aske some time to sift a Bawde: the thiefe

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Will with the rabble put their answers in,
And you shall heare, how they will plead for sin,
With the reply: which turnes the poyson dart,
Then all their actions moraliz'd in part;
Together with the helps I shall apply,
That they may learn to live before they dy.
Without the practice, how those things I know,
To cleare all doubts, I at the end will show.
So, now my Muse go search for stranger sins,
Thy charge is ended, when the day begins