University of Virginia Library

Lib. III

Prologue.

Some say my Satyrs ouer-loosey flow,
Nor hide their gall inough from open show:
Not ridle-like obscuring their intent:
But packe-staffe plaine vttring what thing they ment:
Contrarie to the Roman ancients,
Whose wordes were short, & darkesome was their sence;
Who reads one line of their harsh poesies,
Thrise must he take his winde, & breath him thrise.
My Muse would follow them that haue forgone,
But cannot with an English pineon,
For looke how farr the ancient Comedie
Past former Satyrs in her libertie:
So farre must mine yeeld vnto them of olde,
T'is better too be bad, then be to bold.

SAT. I.

[Time was, and that was term'd the time of Gold]

Time was, and that was term'd the time of Gold
When world & time were yong, that now are old
(When quiet Saturne swaid the mace of lead,
And Pride was yet vnborne, and yet vnbred.)
Time was, that whiles the Autumne fall did last,
Our hungry sires gap't for the falling mast of the Dodonion okes.
Could no vnhusked Akorne leaue the tree,
But there was chalenge made whose it might bee,
And if some nice and licorous appetite,
Desir'd more daintie dish of rare delite,
They scal'd the stored Crab with clasped knee,
Till they had sated their delicious eye;
Or search'd the hopefull thick's of hedgy-rowes,
For bryer-berryes, or hawes, or sowrer sloes:
Or when they meant to fare the fin'st of all,
They lickt oake-leaues besprint with hony fall.
As for the thrise three-angled beech-nut shell,
Or chesnuts armed huske, and hid kernell,
No Squire durst touch, the law would not afford,
Kept for the Court, and for the Kings owne bord
Their royall Plate was clay, or wood, or stone:
The vulgar, saue his hand, else had he none.
Their onely seller was the neighbour brooke:
None did for better care, for better looke.
Was then no playning of the Brewers scape,
Nor greedie Vintner mixt the strained grape.
The kings pauilion, was the grassy greene,
Vnder safe shelter of the shadie treene.
Vnder each banke men laide their lims along,
Not wishing any ease, not fearing wrong:
Clad with their owne, as they were made of olde,
Not fearing shame, not feeling any cold.
But when by Ceres huswifrie and paine,
Men learn'd to bury the reuiuing graine:
And father Ianus taught the new found vine,
Rise on the Elme, with many a friendly twine,
And base desire bad men to deluen low,
For needlesse mettals: then gan mischiefe grow,
Then farewell fayrest age, the worlds best daies,
Thriuing in ill, as it in age decaies.
Then crept in Pride, and peeuish Couetise:
And men grew greedy, discordous and nice.
Now man, that earst Haile-fellow was with beast,
Woxe on to weene himselfe a God at least.
No aery foule can take so high a flight,
Tho she her daring wings in clouds haue dight:
Nor fish can diue so deepe in yeelding Sea,
Tho Thetis-selfe should sweare her safetie:
Nor fearefull beast can dig his caue so lowe,
All could he further then Earths center goe:
As that the ayre, the earth, or Ocean,
Should shield them from the gorge of greedy man.
Hath vtmost Inde ought better then his owne?
Then vtmost Inde is neare, and eife to gone.
O Nature: was the world ordain'd for nought,
But fill mans maw, and feeds mans idle thought:
The Grandsires words sauord of thriftie Leekes,
Or manly Garlicke: But thy fornace reekes
Hote steams of wine, and can aloofe descrie
The drunken draughts of sweet Autumnitie.
They naked went: or clad in ruder hide,
Or home-spun Russet, voyd of forraine pride:
But thou canst maske in garish gauderie,
To suit a fooles far-fetched liuery.
A french head ioynd to necke Italian:
Thy thighs from Germanie, and brest fro Spaine:
And Englishman in none, a foole in all,
Many in one, and one in seuerall,
Then men were men, but now the greater part
Bestes are in life, and women are in heart,
Good Saturne selfe, that homely Emperour,
In proudest pompe was not so clad of yore,
As is the vndergroome of the Ostlerie,
Husbanding it in work-day yeomanrie:
Lo the long date of those expired daies,
Which the inspired Merlins word foresaies:
When dunghill Pesants shall be dight as kings,
Then one confusion another brings:
Then farewell fairest age, the worlds best daies,
Thriuing in ill, as it in age decayes.

SAT II.

[Greet Osmond knows not how he shalbe known]

Greet Osmond knows not how he shalbe known,
When once great Osmond shalbe dead & gone:
Vnlesse he reare vp some ritch monument,
Ten furlongs neerer to the firmament.
Some stately tombe he builds, Egyptian wise,
Rex Regum written on the Pyramis:
Whereas great Arthur lies in ruder oke,
That neuer felt none but the fellers stroke:
Small honour can be got with gawdie graue:
Nor it thy rotting name from death can saue.
The fayrer tombe, the fowler is thy name:
The greater pompe procuring greater shame.
Thy monument make thou thy liuing deeds,
No other tombe then that, true vertue needs,
What? had he nought wherby he might be knowne
But costly pilements of some curious stone?
The matter Natures, and the workmans frame,
His purses cost; where then is Osmonds name?
Deseru'dst thou ill? well were thy name and thee
Wert thou inditched in great secrecie,
Where as no passenger might curse thy dust,
Nor dogs sepulchrall sate their gnawing lust,
Thine ill desarts cannot be grau'd with thee,
So long as on thy graue they engraued bee.

SAT. 3

[The courteous Citizen bad me to his feast]

The courteous Citizen bad me to his feast,
With hollow words, and ouerly request:
Come, will ye dine with me this Holy day?
I yeelded, tho he hop'd I would say Nay:
For had I mayden'd it, as many vse,
Loath for to grant, but loather to refuse.
Alacke sir, I were loath, Another day:
I should but trouble you: pardon me if you may.
No pardon should I neede, for to depart
He giues me leaue, and thanks too in his heart.
Two wordes for money Darbishirian wise:
(That's one too many) is a naughtie guise.
Who lookes for double biddings to a feast,
May dine at home for an importune guest.
I went, and saw, and found the great expence,
The fare and fashions of our Citizens.
Oh: Cleopatricall: what wanteth there
For curious cost, and wondrous choise of cheare?
Beefe, that earst Hercules held for finest fare:
Porke for the fat Bœotian, or the hare
For Martiall: fish for the Venetian,
Goose-liuer for the likerous Romane,
Th'Athenians goate, Quaile, Iolaus cheere,
The Hen for Esculape, and the Parthian Deere,
Grapes for Arcesilas, figs for Platoes mouth.
And Chesnuts faire for Amarillis tooth.
Had'st thou such cheer? wer't thou euer ther before?
Neuer: I thought so: nor come there no more.
Come there no more, for so ment all that cost:
Neuer hence take me for thy second host.
For whom he meanes to make an often guest,
One dish shall serue, and welcomes make the rest.

SAT. IIII.

[VVere yesterday Polemons Natales kept]

VVere yesterday Polemons Natales kept,
That so his threshold is all freshly stept.
With new-shed bloud? could hee not sacrifice
Some sorry morkin that vnbidden dies:
Or meager heifer, or some rotten Ewe:
But he must needes his Posts with blood embrew,
And on his way-doore fixe the horned head,
With flowers, and with rib-bands garnished?
Now shall the passenger deeme the man deuout.
What boots it be so, but the world must know't?
O the fond boasting of vainglorious men:
Does he the best, that may the best be seene?
Who euer giues a payre of veluet shoes,
To th'holy Rood: or liberally alowes:
But a new rope, to ring the Couure-few Bell,
But he desires that his great deed may dwell,
Or grauen in the Chancel-window-glasse,
Or in his lasting tombe of plated brasse,
For he that doth so few deseruing deeds,
T'were sure his best sue for such larger meeds.
Who would inglorious liue, inglorious die,
And might eternize his names memory?
And he that cannot brag of greater store,
Must make his somewhat much, and little more.
Nor can good Myson weare on his left hond,
A signet ring of Bristol-diamond:
But he must cut his gloue, to shew his pride,
That his trim Iewell might be better spide:
And that men mought some Burgesse him repute,
With Satten sleeues hath grac'd his sackloth sute.

SAT. V.

[Fie on all Courtesie, and vnrulie windes]

Fie on all Courtesie, and vnrulie windes,
Two onely foes that fayre disguisement findes.
Strange curse! But fit for such a fickle age,
When Scalpes are subiect to such vassalage.
Late trauailing along in London way,
Mee met, as seem'd by his disguis'd aray,
A lustie Courtier, whose curled head,
With abron lockes was fairely furnished.
I him saluted in our lauish wise:
He answers my vntimely courtesies.
His bonnet val'd, ere euer he could thinke,
Th'vnruly winde blowes of his Periwinke.
He lights, and runs, and quickly hath him sped,
To ouertake his ouerrunning hed.
The sportfull wind, to mocke the Headlesse man,
Tosses apace his pitch'd Gregorian:
And straight it to a deeper ditch hath blowne:
There must my yonker fetch his waxen crowne.
I lookt, and laught, whiles in his raging minde,
He curst all courtesie, and vnrulie winde.
I lookt, and laught, and much I maruailed,
To see so large a Caus-way in his head.
And me bethought, that when it first begone,
T'was some shroud Autumne, that so bar'd the bone.
Is't not sweete pride, when men their crownes must shade
With that which ierks the hams of euery iade
Or floor-strowd locks from of the Barbers sheares?
But waxen crowns well gree with borowed haires.

SAT. VI.

[When Gullion di'd (who knowes not Gullion?)]

When Gullion di'd (who knowes not Gullion?)
And his dry soule ariu'd at Acheron,
He faire besought the Peryman of hell,
That he might drinke to dead Pantagruel.
Charon was fraide leaste thirsty Gullion,
Would haue drunke dry the riuer Acheron.
Yet last consented for a little hyre,
And downe he dips his chops deepe in the myre,
And drinks, and drinks, and swallows in the streame
Vntill the shallow shores all naked seeme.
Yet still he drinkes, nor can the Botemans cries,
Nor crabbed ores, nor praiers make him rise.
So long he drinkes, till the blacke Carauel,
Stands still fast grauel'd on the mud of hell.
There stand they still, nor can goe, nor retyre,
Tho greedie ghosts quicke passage did require.
Yet stand they still, as tho they lay at rode,
Till Gullion his bladder would vnlode.
They stand, and wait, and pray for that good houre:
Which when it came, they sailed to the shore.
But neuer since dareth the Feryman
Once intertaine the ghost of Gullian.
Drinke on drie soule, and pledge sir Gullian:
Drinke to all healths, but drinke not to thine owne

SAT. VII.

[Seest thou how gayly my young maister goes]

Seest thou how gayly my young maister goes,
Vaunting himselfe vpon his rising toes,
And pranks his hand vpon his dagger-side,
And picks his glutted teeth since late Noon-tide?
T's Ruffio: Trow'st thou where he dind to day:
In sooth I sawe him sit with Duke Humfray.
Many good welcoms, and much Gratis cheere,
Keepe she for euery stragling Caualeere:
An open house haunted with great resort,
Long seruice mixt with Musicall disport.
Many a fayre yonker with a fether'd crest.
Chooses much rather be his shot free guest,
To fare so freely with so little cost,
Then stake his Twelue-pence to a meaner host.
Hadst thou not tould me, I should surely say,
He touch't no meat of all this liue-long day.
For sure methought, yet that was but a ghesse,
His eyes seeme sunke for very hollownesse.
But could he haue (as I did it mistake)
So little in his purse, so much vpon his backe:
So nothing in his maw: yet seemeth by his belt,
That his gaunt gut, no too much stuffing felt.
Seest thou how side it hangs beneath his hip,
Hunger and heauie Iron makes girdles slip,
Yet for all that, how stifly strits he by,
All trapped in the new-found brauery.
The Nuns of new-woon Cales his bonnet lent,
In lieu of their so kinde a Conquerment.
What neded he fetch that from farthest Spaine,
His Grandame could haue lent with lesser paine?
Tho he perhaps neuer past the English shore;
Yet faine would counted be a Conquerour.
His haire French-like; stares on his frighted head,
One locke Amazon-like disheueled:
As if he ment to weare a natiue cord,
If chance his Fates should him that bane afforde.
All Brittish bare vpon the bristled skin,
Close notched is his beard both lip and chin.
His linnen coller Labyrinthian-set,
Whose thousand double turnes neuer met:
His sleeues halfe hid with elbow-Pineonings,
As if he ment to flye with linnen wings.
But when I looke and cast mine eyes below,
What monster meets mine eyes in humane show?
So slender wast with such an Abbots loyne,
Did neuer sober nature sure conioyne:
Lik'st a strawne scar-crow in the new-sowne field,
Reard on some sticke, the tender corne to shield:
Or if that semblance sute not euery deale,
Like a broad shak-forke with a slender steale,
Despised Nature suit them once aright,
Their body to their cote: both now mis-dight:
Their body to their clothes might shapen bee,
That nill their clothes be shap'd to their body.
Meane while I wonder at so proud a backe,
Whiles th'emptie guts loud rumblen for long lacke.
The belly enuieth the backs bright glee,
And murmurs at such inequalitie.
The backe appeales vnto the partiall eyne,
The plaintiue belly pleades they bribed beene:
And he for want of better Aduocate,
Doth to the eare his iniutie relate.
The backe insulting ore the bellies need,
Saies: thou thy selfe, I others eyes must feede.
The maw, the guts, all inward parts complaine
The backs great pride, and their owne secret paine.
Ye witlesse gallants, I beshrew your hearts,
That set such discord twixt agreeing parts,
Which neuer can be set at one ment more,
Vntill the mawes wide mouth be stopt with store.

The Conclusion of all.

Thus haue I writ in smother Cedar tree,
So gentle Satyrs, pend so easily.
Henceforth I write in crabbed oke-tree rinde:
Search they that meane the secret meaning finde.
Hold out ye guiltie, and ye galled hides,
And meet my far-fetch'd stripes with waiting sides.