 | Good Nevves and Bad Nevves |  |
To the Reader.
As oftentimes as friend his friend doth meet,And with salute each other kindly greet,
The second speech that commonly they vse
Is to enquire straight; Pray what Good newes?
The eare for nouelties still harkens out
After the tales which tongues doe spread about,
And many a one most wicked doth deuise,
To feed the world, with false deluding lies;
Because men are so apt for to inquire,
And after rumours haue so great desire:
But heer's no imitation of such men,
Good newes, and bad, presented by a pen,
That to your view such humours doth present,
As by the good you may the bad preuent:
Heer's choise and change of both sorts to be had,
Full of variety, Good newes, and Bad.
S. R.
An Epigram, vpon a iest of Will Sommers.
Will Sommers, once vnto King Harry came,And in a serious shew himselfe did frame
To goe to London, taking of his leaue,
Stay William, (quoth the King) I doe perceiue
You are in haste, but tell me your occasion,
Let me preuaile thus, by a friends perswasion:
Quoth he if thou wilt know, Ile tell thee, Marry
I goe to London for Court newes old Harry.
Goest thither from the Court, to heare Court Newes?
This is a tricke Sommers, that makes me muse;
Oh yes (quoth William) Citizens can show
Whats done in Court ere thou or I doe know.
If an Embassador be comming ouer,
Before he doe arriue and land at Douer,
They know his Masters message and intent
Ere thou canst tell the cause why he is sent.
If of a Parliament they doe but heare,
They know what lawes shall be enacted there:
And therefore for a while, a due White-hall,
Harry, He bring thee newes home, lyes and all.
To Make-tale and Carry-tale.
It were good newes to any honest minde,That we could such a reformation finde
Amongst our wandring wits and giddy braines,
That they would cease their sottish idle vaines
Of intermedling (as they daily doe)
With things their calling hath no claime vnto.
Grosse ignorance presumptuously will prate
Of serious matters that concerne a State,
Dull vnderstanding neuer heeds his owne,
But other mens affaires, that must be knowne,
Blockish-conceit, will boldly take in hand,
That he Church gouernment doth vnderstand
To want (what he hath need of) Reformation,
And this is growne to such a gracelesse fashion,
That we the common custome may forbeare
Vs'd when men meet, What's the good newes you heare?
And to another question may proceed,
What lies abroad? and then y'are sure to speed.
You shall haue them by whole sale quickly vented,
T'is wondrous strange how people are contented
By euery flying fained false report;
How itching eares doe entertaine all stuffe,
If it be named Newes tis good enough.
One saies a traueller (a friend of his)
Is new come home, and he hath told him this.
Another saies as he in Paules did walke,
He heard the newes where of two Knights did talke:
Another he hath newes is very rare,
And heard it sitting in a Barbers chaire:
Another he is furnish't very strange,
With newes new taken vp at the Exchange.
And thus about from man to man it flies,
Was neuer such an age for telling lies.
Make-tale, and Carry-tale, a worke are set,
Father of lies hath caught them in his net,
They are his owne and he emploies them still,
And so I leaue them to his cursed will.
The good Newes and the Bad, that here is told,
Both take foundation on a better hold,
For when this booke is ouer read by you,
I'le lay the price, you will confesse t'is true:
[A wealthy Citizen that di'd of late]
Good Newes.
A wealthy Citizen that di'd of late,Did leaue his wife a very great estate,
Sūm'd vp in Thousands to her hearts content:
All sorts of suters to this widow went;
As Courtiers, Lawyers, Citizens, Diuines:
But she vnto a Gallant Knight inclines,
And would be Madam'd, Worship'd, Ladifide,
And in the Leather-carted fashion ride.
The march was made, the marriage consummate,
Her Ladiship was grac'd, in pompe and state,
With all content vnto her hearts desire,
So brauely proud, that all her friends admire.
Their old acquaintance quite aside was layd,
Her worship highly scorn'd shop-keeping trade:
Friends, kinsfolkes, neighbours, are inferiour all,
She much disdaines, What lacke ye, at a stall.
Bad Newes.
Fie vpon giddie Fortune, and her wheele,Vnconstant, and as slipperie as an Eele:
From Kitchin-maid, to Mistris she arose,
From mistris vnto Madam, vp she goes:
And there a yeare or two lets Lady swagger,
Then turnes about, and sends her downe to begger.
Her dearest Knight (whom so she iust may call)
What with his debts, and what with Haue at all,
Lay hidden like a sauage in his den,
For feare of Bayliffes, Sergeants, Marshals men:
And she doth on her Virginals complaine,
I waile in woe, my Knight doth plunge in paine.
Good Newes.
A vsurer met late with a Diuine,At a friends house, where they together dine,
And entring good discourse, the Preacher tooke
Occasion to condemne out of Gods booke,
Beginning with Gods Law vnto the Iewes;
And so throughout all ages, how the best
Of holy men did vsurie detest:
And that there neuer any Saint hath bin,
Would venter soule vpon that wicked sin.
The Vsurer that heard his zealous speech,
Repented, and Gods mercy did beseech;
In his defence not knowing what to say,
But free confest his heart had gone astray:
And from that day would restitution make,
And ten i'th Hundred vtterly forsake:
To Hospitals most liberall he would giue,
To pris'ners, that in miserie doe liue.
Almes-houses for the poore he will haue made,
And repaire Churches, ruinous decay'd:
High wayes and bridges he would likewise mend,
And bountifull beneuolence extend
To schooles of learning, yea would thousands giue
To pious vse, while he had time to liue.
And so detesting damned vsury,
Learne euery day vnto the world to die.
Bad Newes.
After he did this godly motion chuse,He walking home, where sitting in a muse,
His man comes in, and to him sadly spoke,
Sir, he you sent me to this morning's broke.
Hee's gone for Ireland the Neighbours say,
And what he owes neuer intends to pay.
Another of his seruants commeth in,
And tels him as bad newes where he had bin:
One that should pay fiue hundred pounds together,
Had taken Ludgate, and was new gone thither.
Now out vpon them Villaines both, he said,
Is this a world t'haue restitution made?
Giue vnto Hospitals that will for me,
And tarry Knaues in prison where you be.
Build Almes-houses, you that haue mind thereto,
I with my coyne haue somewhat else to doe.
Mend Bridges, you that ouer bridges goes,
For you shal make no bridge (friends) of my nose.
And for your Churches with decayed wall,
Get Briefes and begge, or let your Churches fall.
Mine owne's mine owne, vpon my selfe to spend;
Ile trust to none, Gold's my assured friend.
Good Newes.
Lady, thou shalt not lacke while I haue land,Money we will haue ready at command.
The wealthy Citizen is my Casseere,
The foole has mony, and Ile sell him deare.
How braue I sold the Farme a month agoe,
Oh that I had good store to vtter so.
This ready money giues a man content,
For Tenants come but lingring in with Rent:
When I for Hundreds haue a present vse,
And aske to borrow, straight ther's an excuse,
I cannot sir, I haue it not to spare,
It makes me scorne fellowes that are so bare:
Ile haue my purse with money furnish'd still,
Sell Medow, pasture, arable, I will;
And so be ready for to make supply,
Gentilities best ornaments to buy.
Weele haue a Coach, like Chariot of the Sunne,
With hautie Horses, for our Iades be done.
New Sutes for thee and I, at least some ten
New Liueries for all our Seruing-men.
And thus to credit Madam weele ascend,
That vulgar sort our worships may commend.
Bad Newes.
Sir Nimble-touch makes his possessions flie,And on his ready money doth relie:
Heele be admir'd for brauery, out of hand,
And where his father left him spacious land,
A iourney to him, for to walke about,
He by a nimble policy found out,
To shorten tedious steps ore bridge and stile,
And bring his land in compasse of a mile.
A pretty walke to giue himselfe content,
And saue much trouble in receiuing rent.
But now his worship hath much charged bin
With laying out, hauing no comming in,
And finds most true what he before did say,
That ready money euer will away.
Now land is sold, and money gone in goods,
He cals out, Andrew, I am in the suddes;
I had good tenements, I had faire land,
But of that sute, others haue cleer'd my hand.
And I am left A melancholy Knight,
As Ploydon sayd, The case is alter'd quite:
What remedy gainst Fortunes raging fits,
But liue like other lacke-lands, by my wits?
Good Newes.
Two canting rogues, that old consorts had bin,And cage, and stockes, met often kindly in:
That had beene sharers long and many a day
Of what they got vpon the common way,
Did accidentall at an alehouse meet,
And in this manner one another greet;
What Roger, well met rogue, old fellow begger,
When did we two like boone companions swagger,
As we haue done, thou knowst in youthfull prime,
How doest thou thriue mad slaue this farthing time?
This copper age, what, come they roundly in?
Yes faith, the trade hath neuer better bin.
Pence, and few giuers we had heretofore,
But farthings now, and giuers theres good store,
Men, Women, seruants, Children, all are able,
I tell thee fellow, this is comfortable.
There's neuer a day that I abroad doe roame,
But I bring copper like a Tinker home.
Knocke for Tobacco, call for ale, hang sorrow,
God blesse you Master, will bring more to morrow.
Bad Newes.
Thus at their ale, and pipe of smoother sitting,And boasting each to other of their getting,
Within short time they plyde the liquor so,
As drunke as beggers both, they could not goe,
And fell to quarrell of old matters done
When they their begging partnership begun;
Thou cheat'st me once of twenty pence quoth one,
Vnto thy conscience it is plainly knowne:
I cheat (quoth he) thou lyest in thy throat,
Thy company hath cost me many a groat:
Thou canst not say that I haue cut a purse,
Thou hast broke into houses, and done worse,
Stolne sheets from hedges, broke vp doores by night
And deseru'd hanging, if thou hadst thy right.
With that together by the eares they fall,
The Constable on tother side the wall
Was drinking with a friend, and for aid knockes,
To carry drunken beggers to the stockes;
From thence he sent them to another coast,
And made their pasport from the whipping post.
Good Newes.
A shepheard sitting on a pleasant banke,In Summer Sun-shine where the grasse grew rancke,
And natures paintments, red, and yellow, blew,
With colours plenty round about him grew,
Espide at sea a gallant ship did saile
With calme, and mild, and fauourable gale.
Oh (quoth the shepheard) what a pleasant thing,
To see a vessell with a canuase wing
Glide on the waters, fly vpon the flouds,
And coast from place to place, with man and goods:
Ile be no longer land-man on this hill,
But Ile to sea, let him keepe sheepe that will.
So selling all his cattell at good rates,
Turnes marchant, fraughts a barke with figs and dates.
Buyes pen-worths, better not in seuen yeare,
And vnderstands where he may sell goods deare.
So taking leaue with friends he vow'd and swore,
He was a foole to stay so long a shore.
Bad Newes.
Imagine now our shepheard's vnder saile,Where raging stormes, and tempests so preuaile,
The ship, with all the goods is cast away,
And the young merchant begger'd in a day,
Comes poorely home, from Neptunes raging deepe.
And takes his trade againe, of keeping sheepe;
And sitting pensiue on the grassie shore,
He spied a ship came sayling as before,
In mild calme weather on a sunshine-day,
Whereat he shooke his head, and thus did say,
I once had wealth, and got an honest gaine,
In my content of calling taking paine:
My flocks did prosper, and my selfe did thriue,
Till such a flattring show did make me striue
To get sea fortunes, which I now repent,
That had enough, and could not liue content,
But God blesse all Masters and Masters mates,
And farewell ship, Ile deale no more with Dates.
Good Newes.
An ancient bachelour did long forbeareBecause of houshold charge he stood in feare;
And would not marry, till he heard of one
Was stor'd with money, but of children none,
Good huswife, and most sparing of her purse,
She shoud be his, For better, and for worse.
Thus looking out, and searching with a care,
To haue a wealthy match vnto his share,
At length vpon a wench he chaunc'd to light,
Childlesse, and rich, vnto his humour right,
As greedy as himselfe being wholly bent,
And heer's a match vnto his hearts content:
He doth reioyce and boast amongst his friends,
That his good fortunes to such height extends,
For such a compleat wife, from head to foot,
He would not change for thousands giuen to boot.
And thus with ioy he doth imbrace his Bride,
Holding himselfe risen vpon right side,
That he had grace so luckily to chuse,
Oh Ioyfull happy admirable newes.
You bachelors, beware take heed (he said)
Let no young man run rashly on a mayd:
Bad Newes.
Thei'r proud and poore, and must be long a wooing,Then proue bad huswiues to a mans vndoing.
But take a widow to augment thy state,
That hath good leases, houshold stuffe and plate,
Gold, linnen, woollen, pewter, and good brasse,
And welcome widow, Tut a maydes an asse.
Bad Newes.
The bachelor, (after his wooing paines)Maries the widow with her golden gaines,
And liue together louing man and wife,
Some fortnight after ere they fell to strife.
But two weekes past grew such a stormy shower,
He neuer saw calme weather till this hower.
His name of Iohn is turned into Iacke,
She tels him, that her mony cloathes his backe:
And that he was a needy rascall knaue,
And she hath made a man of such a slaue.
Good Newes.
Her words (last weeke) of loue, sweet hart, and ioy,Are turn'd to villain, rogue, and beardlesse boy,
And tells him further that it is her shame,
That she hath grac'd him with a husbands name,
Being vnworthy wretch to wipe her shooes:
Friends this is bad, and yet we haue worse newes;
For tis too true (as all the neighbours knows)
From rayling words she fals to swaggring blowes,
And scratcht his face, in fury broke his head,
Yea in her choler kickt him out of bed.
He shall not walke before her in the streets,
Nor meet with her betweene a paire of sheets.
She is his better, many a degree,
And vowes her best bags he shall neuer see.
Heer's a braue match for mony, is it not?
This bachelor hath a rich widow got.
But he doth wish, in griefe and anguish pang'd,
That he were buried, or his wife were hang'd.
And now a maid, as poore as poore may be,
Is worth ten thousand widowes, such as she.
Good Newes.
When countrey Nanne, the milkemaid-lasses left,Shee came to London very neat and deft,
To seeke preferment, and her fortunes raise,
Being indeed (as all the parish saies)
A handsome wench and likely to doe well,
If with a London Mistris she might dwell,
Euen according to her hearts content
Into a right good seruice Annis went:
As good a Mistris as she could desire,
And as good wages as she did require.
After the two yeares kitchin mayd had seru'd,
So well by her good cariage she deseru'd,
That to be chamber maid she did ascend,
And therewithall her wages much did mend,
Now like a Gentlewoman she doth goe,
And countrey maids admire to see her so,
Telling their friends, with all the speed they can,
They will be Londoners like Mistresse Anne.
Bad Newes.
Heigh ho, bad newes as euer came to towne,From London to the countreys caried downe;
Alas poore wench, a scuruy seruing man
Has (out vpon him) bin with countrey Nan,
And giuen her such a knauish ouerthrow,
She is as bigge as euer she can goe:
The case is alter'd, 'twill no more be said,
There goes the kitchin or the chamber maid;
But this is she changed (the world knowes how)
From maid that was to be a seruant now.
And that same wicked fellow that did this,
Doth vow and sweare the Childe is none of his,
But sets it light, and makes thereof a scoff,
And thinkes in Knauery thus to bob her off:
But heele be talkt withall ere one moneth ends,
For the poore wench hath sent for all her friends,
And then it will be proued plaine, at lagre
That hees the man must beare the Nursing charge.
Since Nans Virginity past help is lost,
They'l teach him what a maidenhead will cost,
What law will doe he shall be sure to finde,
Because he beares such basenesse in his minde.
Good Newes.
Meane while, be it a daughter or a sonne,No remedy, it is so lately done.
Nans Master and her Mistresse both abhor it,
But what sayes she? They cannot hang her for it.
Good Newes.
Good newes is come for Goodman Groutnols sonne,His wretched father with the world hath done:
Dead as a dog that lieth in a ditch,
And now the youth meanes to goe thorough stitch,
And be a gallant in his golden daies,
His father was a simple man he saies:
For though he gather'd store of worldly pelfe,
Why yet he did not vnderstand himselfe,
He was for profit euermore prepar'd,
But for Gentility he neuer car'd.
A plaine blunt fellow still a plodding an,
But Christopher will be another man.
For he hath beene with Heraulds but last weeke,
And will haue something for himselfe to shew,
Although it be a Cuckoe or a Crow:
Nay, and perhaps (if all things fall out right)
He may before he goes to graue, turne Knight,
But he will make no boasting, let that rest,
Kit will be euer Iouiall as the best;
His father was a good old man he saies,
And for his death, he giues God heartie praise.
Bad Newes.
Now for the citie is young Groutnoll bound,Where humors for to grace him may be sound:
Frist he must learne to dance, and dance he will,
Then to the noble science for some skill,
If any roaring boy should chance to swagger,
And challenge him at rapier and at dagger,
Where still his purse doth all the reckoning cleare,
Dinners and suppers, drunken healths to any,
He doth discharge the bils vnto a pennie,
To sharkes, that are his daily feasting friends
He giues, maintaines, and what they'le borrow lends
Falls in with cheaters that can cog a Die,
And still his open purse lets money flie:
And thus he reuels it still spending on,
As if he were in haste, to see all gon,
Which by his lauish hand, being brought to passe,
His consorts censure him an idle asse,
A gull that suffer'd all men to deceaue him,
And so vnto the Counter-hole they leaue him.
Good Newes.
Friends I protest by my Gentilitie,Your Citie's full of rare ciuilitie:
Where I haue beene most brauely vs'd of lare,
By worthy citizens, as I'le relate:
In measure, farre beyond my poore desarts,
I cannot passe through any street or lane
But barehead curtesie doth entertaine
My worship with what lacke you, wondrous kinde:
And credit with all sorts of trades I finde,
My word for wares they neuer yet forsooke,
But take my hand familiar to their booke.
I goe my selfe, or send by any token,
'Tis ready ere the message be halfe spoken,
Much in commodities I could proceed,
More then my vse hath any cause to need,
Therefore I'le trie my further credit rather
With ten ith' hundred, that old pennie father;
To shop-mens bookes my hand no more will deale,
I am for Scriueners now, with hand and seale.
Bad Newes.
What hungrie fellowes doth the citie breed?That will not spare a Gentleman in's need,
But euen by meere extremities doe striue,
And gape as they would eat a man aliue:
With wicked spirits, that I am faine to goe
Into the Suburbes, there to seeke some charme,
That may secure me from the catchpoles harme;
And there by chance I met with a conceit,
Which in my minde I daily must repeat.
All Grocers spice you freely may imbrace,
Only take heed you touch not of the Mace,
Nor is it for your freedom's ease and good
To walke the streer, that's call'd by name of Wood,
Poultrie refraine, for thats a meat will binde-you,
And of all seekers, let not Sarieants finde you:
Keepe backe your feet from their In-countring waies,
For they'le salute you with a frightfull phrase
As, Gentleman, at such a suit I rest you,
This vexing word will very much molest you.
Good Newes.
Good lucke's, good newes a man would thinke it were,And heer's a tale of good-lucke you shall heare,
Which came in cleere, as if 'twere money found:
This he imployes in diuers kinde of things,
Which benefit vnto the buyer brings.
For all he bought it was exceeding cheape,
Double and treble profit he did reape;
A horse, for which he did but fiue pound pay
Was sold for fifteene, ready coine, next day.
Sutes of apparell, cloakes, and store of plate,
Great penny-worths and at an easie rate;
Pawnes came in plentie, vpon bills of sale
Made lawfull purchase, if the pay-day faile.
Thus in short time beginning with a gift
Of fortie pound, he made such shuffling shift,
He was a man of hundreds in account,
And did in termes of credit so amount,
Within the parish he a great sway bore,
Which made them wonder, knew him base before;
That in so short a time, wealth flow'd so fast,
And begger got on horsebacke in such haste.
Bad Newes.
The speech is true, Experience proues no lesse,That goods ill gotten meet with ill successe;
Where God doth blesse, happie abundance springs,
And greatnesse growes, of many little things:
But whereas wealth by wicked meanes is bred,
A curse will fall vpon the getters head.
For all the bargaines that this wretch had made,
Was out of theeuing, and of brokers trade:
Stolne goods were sold vnto him at best hand,
Vpon deare price his chapmen did not stand,
Because it cost them only but the taking,
And it is term'd cloake, cup, or linnen making:
I made (saies one) this ruffe, this sword, this hat,
So what the Broker bought, the theeues made that.
But after this same making comes a marring:
The prouerb saies, when theeues doe fall to iarring,
By that meanes true-men doe regaine their owne,
And this is often manifestly knowne:
Contention comes, and that so ouerswaies them,
The Deuill owes a shame, and then he paies them.
Good Newes.
From Neptunes rough encountring dreadfull deepe;And Eolus, that stormie quoile doth keepe:
With furious blasts amids the liquid waues,
Making the waters winding sheetes and graues:
A Merchant did in safetie retire,
And brought home goods, which to his hearts desire
He sold for profit, and for readie pay:
But in the time that he had beene away,
He found, (to his exceeding chiefest ioy)
His wife deliuer'd of a gallant boy.
Which neuer in her life had childe before,
This did enlarge his gladsome heart the more,
To finde his fortunes were so faire and good,
As first escape the Ocean's raging flood:
With extreme hazard of his goods and life,
And then receiue such welcome from his wife;
As husband, here behold your master-prize,
This little boy that hath thine owne gray eies:
Unto it, let thy kindest loue be showne,
For on my credit (Sweet-hart) 'tis thine owne.
Bad Newes.
This gladsome father, and reioycing motherWith much contentment doe inioy each other:
Their little one doth such affection seale,
And euery hurt of their distaste doth heale,
Nor thought, nor word, nor deed did passe betweene
The parents, not a cloudie looke was seene,
Vntill a gossip of the gaggling crew
Into a humour of contention grew
With her familiar friend, the merchants wife,
Reuenging of her quarrell with their strife.
And told the husband she did greatly doubt
That he was mightie wrong'd, (if truth came out)
I will not (quoth she) for a thousand pound
A makebate 'twixt a man an's wife be found:
But I know somewhat that would breed a scabbe,
Yet pardon me I neuer was a blabbe,
We know that little said is soone amended,
The blinde eates many a flie, what's past is ended,
These quenish termes such iealousie allur'd,
He grew horne mad, and still remaines vncur'd.
Good Newes.
A Hastie fellow of a froward nature,Was maried to a mild and gentle creature,
Which was most willing to content him still;
But he of disposition was so ill,
With eu'ry triflle he a fault would finde,
Which made his wife intreat him very kinde,
That he in writing would his minde explaine,
What things she should performe, and what refraine:
He was content, and writ his wife a booke,
And bade her often thereupon to looke,
For in the same he plainly had exprest
What she should practise to content him best:
And matters that displeas'd him to omit,
She very kindly gaue him thankes for it,
Vowing she would a willing scholler be
To learne those lessons did with peace agree,
Which she in memorie would still retaine,
And crosse the deuill in his make-bate veine:
All stormy tempests shall be mildly laid,
I'le please my husband now by booke she said.
Bad Newes.
The world being now a little better mended,To walke and see a friend they both intended,
Some two mile out of towne, and merrie make,
So frolique, till the husbands cap did ake,
And he must needs (at euening somewhat late)
Returne home reeling with a drunken pate:
No friends perswasions could with him preuaile
To sleepe away the head-ach of the ale,
But home quoth he, come wife, we're homeward bound,
I like old Harry, meane to stand my ground,
And so along goes drunkard, thorow stitch,
Vntill he came vnto a scuruie ditch:
Into the same downe from the bridge he falls,
And then, helpe wife, a hand sweet wife he calls,
Husband (quoth she) to helpe forth ditch or brooke,
As I remember is not in my booke,
And therefore first I will goe home and see
Before you get a helping hand of me;
If it be written I shall lend a list,
I'le doe it willing, else your selfe shall shift.
Good Newes.
A sutor, that a wealthy widow pli'd,To grace out his bad fortunes did prouide
Vpon his credit, for an outward show,
That gallantly he might a wooing goe,
His hat new block'd, and golden banded too,
His Ruffe he wore like some Sir reuerence doe:
His suit the Tailor trusted him withall;
For sword and russet bootes, he in did fall
With Cutler, and the gentle craft: Beside
He had a gallant gelding to bestride,
That grac'd his worship aboue all the rest,
Esteem'd to be a twenty pounds-worth beast;
And all that was his carcasse outward case,
(Except his bodkin beard and naked face)
Were freely come to hand, by Best-be-trust,
His brauery might be compared iust
Vnto the bird trim'd vp in th' ancient tale,
Had each their plumes, then naked as my naile
Well, to the widow now we let him ride,
And bid him welcome home on tother side.
Bad Newes.
Being ariued at his wished port,He doth begin, most eloquent to court,
And makes account by inkhorne tearmes to get
One to maintaine him, and discharge his debt,
But shee's a wench hath wit to hold him too't,
And ouerthrowes her louer horse and foot,
Telling him that her selfe, and her estate
Is not to be obtain'd with verball prate
Of loue, and fancie, by the gods decreed?
Therefore bestow it pray on some that need:
I haue a friend whose loue and faith I know,
Y'are welcome sir, there's all I can bestow.
With that she leaues him and departs away;
Surely (quoth he) this is no wooing day,
Some scuruy Plannet is become my foe,
That at the first I should haue this crosse blow
Well, I will trie another widow yet,
And if no better comfort I doe get,
In spight of Fortune, (looke she ne're so grim)
My horse I'le rifle, though I borrow'd him.
Good Newes.
Fortune was constant in vnconstancie,The second widow gaue him the denie,
More scornfull and disgracefull then the first,
Which made the wooer sweare he was accurst
To venture all the credit that he had,
And be so brauely to the fashion clad:
Yet still reiected, being a proper man,
(Though good for nothing) did resolue him than
To haue a rifling for his borrow'd beast,
And get some twentie pound by th' hand at least,
Retires to London, singles out an Inne,
Inuites all his acquaintance, friends and kinne,
That of all loues they would on such a day
Be sure to meet him, without all delay,
He had a Gelding cost him fiftie pound,
A brauer beast did neuer pace on ground;
And he should spoile him being too too free,
A most rancke rider, (as braue gallants be)
And therefore he was willing to forgoe-him,
And eu'n amongst their fortunes to bestow-him.
Bad Newes.
The rifling time being come that he had set,His friends according to their promise met,
A great assembly, a good supper made,
And eu'ry one his ventur'd money pai'd,
To his content: thought he, why here's good doing:
Why this is better farre then scuruy wooing,
Betoyl'd about a wife, and cannot get her,
Widowes be hang'd, for I like horse flesh better.
But see the mischiefe fortunes spight did bring,
To make his rifling a meere trifling thing:
No sooner they to throw the dice begin,
But comes the owner with a Serieant in;
And claimes the gelding which was at the stake,
This did amongst them an amazement make,
For euery man his money backe did claime,
Which was returned with a cheating shame;
Oh scuruy world, quoth he, how crosse things goes,
The next will be the Tailor, for my clothes:
My wooing ouerthrowne, my horse play marr'd,
As I am Gentleman, this nips me hard.
EPIGRAM.
[Two that had beene aboord a Burdeux barke]
Two that had beene aboord a Burdeux barke,Came reeling thorow Ratcliff in the darke,
And to secure them from al stumbling harme
They linckt together louing arme in arme;
But as they came along the grauell pit,
The one of them got such a reeling fit,
That from his fellow downe the banke he fell,
And lying on his backe, cri'd, Hey da Nell:
Why here's a towne is e'rie well gouern'd right,
Keepe open seller doores this time a night?
Where art thou Robin, to his fellow calling?
Who vp the banke, thorow the dirt was crawling.
Marry (quoth he) I knocke and call for beere,
And there is not a rogue will answer here,
Therefore as true as this good light doth shine
I am a climing to pull downe their signe:
And I am searching all the seller here,
To finde the taps and let out all the beere,
The knaues shall know they haue not vs'd vs well,
Why here's a towne braue gouern'd, Hey da Nell.
Epigram.
[A ruin'd gallant, in's declining age]
A ruin'd gallant, in's declining age,Calling his life in question, in a rage
Did vow, and sweare, and to himselfe protest,
He was a villaine, slaue, a bruitish beast:
Such Sun-shine fortunes as his daies had knowne,
And might haue free inioy'd them as his owne,
To let them passe with Time, and glide away,
And no sure hold vpon good hap to lay,
I might haue had a widow once (quoth he)
That would haue made at least a Knight of me,
And like a gull, a whorson coxcome asse,
Vnto another foole I let her passe:
I might haue had an office, that would cleere
Haue brought me in two hundred pound a yeare,
And liu'd at ease, gone vp and downe to braue it;
But like a goose, I let another haue it:
I might haue had good land to liue vpon,
But like a Woodcocke all is sold, and gone:
I might haue beene a scholler, learn'd my Grammar,
But I haue lost all like a Ninnie-hammer.
Epigram.
[Experience out of obseruation saies]
Experience out of obseruation saies,Six sorts of people keepe their fasting daies,
Which if you will in order haue them knowne,
Then thus they are distinguish't euery one.
The sicke man fasts because he cannot eat,
The poore man fasts because he wanteth meat,
The miser fasts, with greedy minde to spare,
The glutton fasts, to eat a greater share;
The Hypocrite, he fasts to seeme more holy,
The vertuous man to punish sinfull folly:
But at all these, the drunkard in his quaffing,
In scoffing manner doth deride them laughing,
And saies, I am for none of all these six,
Fast they, or feed, I am for drinking tricks:
With Pipe and Pinte, I entertaine my diet,
Sacke and Tobacco, keepes my stomacke quiet;
I doe not care for ouer-cloying dishes,
So that I may attaine to these two wishes,
The Vintner still to draw me of the best,
And when the reckoning comes, why let that rest.
Epigram.
[How am I vex't, that must keepe in a dore]
How am I vex't, that must keepe in a dore,Only for feare to pay a Tapsters score!
A slaue that's bound in conscience to forbeare,
For I haue grac'd his house in lying there:
But I haue vow'd reuenge, the villaine dies,
Only my weapon at the Cutlers lies,
And I doe linger to redeeme it thence:
Beere and Tobacco is my most expence,
A lowsie lodging and a scuruy diet,
And this it is, which puts me out of quiet.
It is against my conscience for to pay him,
I can shew reason why I doe delay him.
My diet, euer ouer-rost, or raw,
My cans were alwaies nic'kt against the law,
My washing and my wringing was but base,
And I count all worth nothing, here's the case,
Yet there be Seriants waite me for arrest,
In-countring fellowes, which I ill disgest,
Oh that another mad hoise there would be,
To catch the Serieant would be catching me.
Epigram.
[Gilbert, this gloue I send thee from my hand]
Gilbert , this gloue I send thee from my hand,And challenge thee to meet on Callis sand,
On this day moneth resolue I will be there,
Where thou shalt finde my flesh I will not feare.
My Cutler is at worke both day and night,
To make the sword wherewith I meane to fight:
If I doe faile thee, at the time and place,
Account me to descend of cowards race;
If thou neglect, and doe not meet me then,
Ile make thee odious vnto Martiall men.
This challenge past, the challenger at Douer,
Imbarks for Callis, and being halfe way ouer,
Grew mighty sea-sicke, and did backe retire,
Hauing by vomit purg'd out all his Ire:
Oh wretch (quoth he) to quarrell most accurst,
My heart doth faint, my very gall doth burst.
I was a villaine to intend this fight;
But if I doe escape this fearefull flight,
Vnto the field a farewell I will giue,
And nere draw sword in anger while I liue.
Epigram.
[A Pocket-picker most exceeding braue]
A Pocket-picker most exceeding braue(For true mens purses did maintaine the knaue)
In sute of Sattin, cloake with Veluet lin'de,
His golden hatband, guilded rapier shin'd,
His russet bootes, and spurs, in all compleat,
Which he maintain'd, by pilfring theft, and cheat;
Being at assises in a country towne,
And standing neere a seely simple clowne,
With bold audacious, and outfacing looke
The rusticks purse out of his pocket tooke,
Who very fearefull of his furious show,
Shrunke backe amongst the throng and let him goe.
Within a little space a crie was made,
A cut-purse, cut-purse, all the people said,
When he that lost his purse the noise did heare,
He thrang'd among the crowd and got him neere,
And said (when he perceiued proofes made duely)
My Lords, his Worship had my purse too, truly.
They smiling said, In signe that we abhor it,
Wee'le be so bold as hang his worship for it.
Epigram.
[A Fellow that had beene excessiue trading]
A Fellow that had beene excessiue trading,In taking liquor in beyond his lading,
Of Claret, and the Spanish Malligo,
That's legs vnable were vpright to goe;
But sometime wall, and sometime kennell taking,
And as the phrase is vs'd, Indentures making;
Was met with by a most vnhappy boy,
That at the drunkards sight did greatly ioy,
To put a iest vpon the reeling mome,
Hauing a birding peece to carry home:
He with the same doth thus begin his iest,
Presenteth it against the drunkards brest,
And leuels at him, making fire fly,
The drunkard lowd, did murder, murder, cry;
Oh cruell rogue, and bloudy slaue quoth he.
Helpe, helpe, this villaine meanes to murder me;
Sir (quoth the boy) you greatly doe mistake,
This needlesse clamour, and outcries to make,
I doe protest I meane your selfe no harme,
I only shoote the fox vnder your arme.
Epigram.
[When Hodge comes home, hee'le tell his vather newes]
When Hodge comes home, hee'le tell his vather newesShall make the good old clowne admire and muse;
For he hath memory so able strong,
Shall finde him tales for all the winter long;
He came not vp in vaine to London, no,
Hodge hath seene that his father nere shall know
Of wenching matters, but hee'le keepe that in
And tell him other sights, where he hath bin;
As of the Tower, and the Lyons there,
Of Paris garden, and the Bull and Beare,
Of Westminster, what monuments there be,
And what two mighty Giants Hodge did see
With fearefull countenances in Guild-hall,
The old Exchange, the new Exchange and all.
The water-workes, huge Pauls, old Charingcrosse,
Strong London Bridge, at Billinsgate the Bosse.
Nay Hodge hath seene ships, boats, and barges, which
Swim about London in a great large ditch,
And he hath vow'd he will not iogge away,
Tell he hath seene some pretty puppet play.
Epigram.
[Tom Tempest fell at strife with Steuen Storme]
Tom Tempest fell at strife with Steuen Storme,And fel'd him with a pintpot from a forme,
Storme rows'd himselfe, and fiercely did rebound,
At cruell Tempest, with a stabbing wound;
But it was done in a most coward kinde,
In his breech backward, where he breaketh winde;
The Vintner (being of the separation)
Comes in and lends his wisest exhortation,
Tempest, and Storme (my windy brethren both)
In sadnesse and in truth, without an oath,
You are to blame to draw that Iron toole,
And make my ciuill house a fencing schoole,
This is the force of your excessiue wine,
I rather will take downe my bush and signe,
Then liue by men of riotous expence;
In peace I say, Brethren depart you hence.
I will not take a penny for the shot,
And furthermore, Ile melt that bloody pot,
Which is polluted thus with sanguine gore,
All's paid, y'are welcome when y'are out of doore.
FINIS.
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