University of Virginia Library

Mongst all the Wonders that there be,
Of Man, of Beast, and eke of Tree,
There's none where Authors are content,
To yeild their suffrage and consent,
Or doe more serious credit give,
Then that the Pigmies once did live,
Philostratus (to Cronie wi'us)
When he doth out of Apollonius,
All other wonders Fables call,
He still to th' Pigmies gives the wall,
But no old Author truer writ,
Then Aristotle Stagirite,
Upon this point in Booke he fals,
Inscrib'd of Getting Animals,
He Pigmies grants, (we learne from thence)
Which liv'd of old, in Caves and Dens,
And he to shew he doth not sooth us,
Addes, Ου γαρ εσ)τι τουτο μυθος.
Which being rendred, signifies,
That Pigmie stories are no lyes.
And now from him doth differ Plinie,
No more then Tith-pig from Pig-ginnie.
Onely thus much methinkes he vowes,
That Egges and Eg-shells were their House,
Tis in strange Timber sure they paddle,
To whom their houses may be addle.
These Egges they caught with sweat and paines,
All from their neighbour Foes the Cranes.
Besides old Isidore hath g'in't us,
And 'mongst the Modernes Hector Pintus.
Nay we could prove sure as liv'd Ninus,
That this is back'd by Augustinus.
Few in this point have abandon'd us,
Lesse Strabo learnd, and Aldrovandus.
With Scaliger, who time hath spent,
Learnd to appeare, cause diffident.
The occasion of its Fable some
Have judg'd may from this reason come.
Because that in those Regions where
The Stagirite sayes Pigmies were,
All writers freely doe agree,
That wondrous little Creatures be.
Hence might, say they, this errour grow,
And he might thinke the men were so.
This savours Strabo, and has gust
Why Aristotle heel distrust.
But those who doe this Reason print,
Doe Aristotle justice int,
For if the heat, the Sunne there flings,
Contract and straighten other things.
Say why that Sunne may not have then
Like influence and force on men?
Besides, cause wee'l no longer tarry,
Tis cleare, that Strabo did miscarry,
Since Authors chaine the Pigmies seates,
Not to the Eclipticke parching heates,
But doe allow these Dwarfes combine,
Under a sundry Temperate Line.
Pliny in Thrace some Pigmies puts,
And others up in Caria shuts.
From India one his Pigmies takes,
And others neare to Nilus Lakes,
And Aristotles Pigmie height,
Is stil'd from's Region Troglodite.
Now Homers Pigmie, head and mouth,
Is Æthiopian, North, or South.
And Mæla to affirme not feares,
That Pigmies some Arabia beares.
Againe, lest Strabo should confine us,
We to Pomponius adde Solinus,
And Jovius too, beyond Japan
Embassadour Muscovian.
Let Strabo rage like Captaine Tucca,
Some men have seene them in Molucca.
But sure methinkes it needs must like us,
Which storied is by Odoricus.
He vowes, he Pigmies did descry,
Which were about some three palmes high;
And these (say, can ye hold from laughters)
At five yeares old, got Sons and Daughters.
To see the Sonne you would admire,
Goe play at push pin with his Sire.
But this to say would vex them rather,
Sir, is this Infant here your Father?
Or else suppose this Question slipt,
Pray when was last your Grandsire whipt?
Is that your Grandame? who doth dresse it?
A wondrous hopefull Child, God blesse it.

If all Diseases scape he can,
Thy Fathers Father may write man.
Theophilus, Higginus, Sergius,
And others (if so be that heard you us)
Albertus too, sets Dwarfes before us,
And Gaza christned Theodorus.

But weepe, Will: Baker, weepe to see,
Albertus Magnus doth agree,
That Pigmies were, yet at one stroke,
VVere they Ten Thousand all are broke.
Will: he averres they had no reason,
Nor understanding more then Peason.
Out, Out, Albertus, I could purse thee,
A freind of mine is bound to curse thee.

But Bille, worse and worse, Cardanus,
(Unworthy man) doth more constraine us,
He writes, though Cloakes they wore with Capes,
The Pigmies Fathers were the Apes.
And that from him, their line's translated,
That rides when London Beares are bated.
Now Will, if truth these men protects,
It something odly sure reflects,
And Cherry-lickum's beast, that Varlet,
Must be some Dwarfe in Chaine and Scarlet.
But these are Libels all and Scandals,
Devis'd by some whose shooes are Sandals.
For trust me when Thou dost appeare,
We quickely guesse what men they were.
Thy talke, Albertus will defeat,
Were he farre Greater then the Great.

That Pigmies were, be that prov'd hence,
Will: Baker proves they spake good sence.
And now it will not be amisse,
To adde one author to all this:
One thing I'le instance Sirs, and no more,
What was of Pigmies thought by Homer:
When Pigmie now was Midwives tale,
And onely season'd Gossips ale.
When they would mention such devises,
Cause Cups did want some other Spices.
When Pigmies folke did them so injure,
Onely supply'd a Race of Ginger.
Up starts old Homer in a wroth,
And cry'd, Keepe breath to coole your Broth.
Your Meetings love I with my heart,
And eke your Ale, be't pint, be't quart.
But yet my toes they itch to kicke her,
That drinkes these people off in Liquor,
Come, Come, your cups shall never boast,
They drowne a Nation like a Toast:
A Toast I say, which till 'tis mouldy.
You doe reserve to feed your Poultry.
But Dudgen Dagger throat I sticke in's
That Pigmie throwes to fat his Chickens.
At this, that all may henceforth know them,
He puts their story in his Poem.
Their war with Cranes who them annoy,
As fam'd as is his war of Troy.
Now he that in their story seekes,
Finds Pigmies Trojans, Cranes the Greekes.
But still the Pigmies did defie them,
As if their King were Aged Priam.
Full sundry Duels, sundry Fights,
Were mannag'd by the Pigmie Knights;
And though at length they're kill'd and quiet,
I thinke their Foes got little by it.
For often wounded, often shine.
Was many an Agamemnon Crane.
Steele is his breast, Flint is his Eyes,
His Head is Tinder-box likewise.
That can refraine, when this he heares,
From Gales of sighes, and showrs of teares:
Here lies a Wing, and there a Claw,
There lies a beake (Warre hath no law.)
And would't not greive Lady or Dutchesse,
To see a Crane walke 'twixt two Crutches?
There's small remorse in Pigmie Dwarfe,
That makes a Fowle weare wing in Scarfe.
With Feathers lost, Crane oft did sit,
Like Goose or Capon pluckt for spit.
Her guts cleane drawne, and none within her,
As though the Bird were truss'd for dinner.
They did so mangle her, so batter,
As if the Carver had beene at her:
Sometimes depriv'd of Rumpe or Crupper,
You'd thinke the rest kept cold for supper.
When they were Captives in all ages
Th'imprison'd were in Coopes or Cages.
Where both the Mother and the Daughter,
Ought seldome eate but bread and water.
Nor would they let (deare Will my honey)
A Drum or Trumpet bring them money,
And then alacke, what should they doe,
They could not beg, they wanted shooe.
In fine, from thence they ne're did range,
Lesse on Parole to get Exchange.
In other Fights (ô Fights accursd)
The valiant Pigmies had the worst.
Lo here they fall, and there they fly,
Weapon on Ground, Finger in Eye.
O Cruell Crane, that is not slacke,
To Pigmie pecke, behind his backe.
And what is worse (though he exhort her)
Refuse to give Nine Inches Quarter.
Long lasted feud and mortall jarre,
Till onely Crane surviv'd in warre.
In which no Pigmie ere was spi'd,
That tooke up Armes on t'other side.
'Twas Crane surviv'd, and well she mought,
Pigmie at disadvantage fought.
For routed Crane puts spurre to wing,
And safe through empty aire doth fling,
And ere a Baker marke his Tallies,
See Crane returnes againe, and Rallies.
But Pigmie-wight, must stand to list.
Three inches stride would split his twist.
Well Sirs,
The Pigmies had not hence beene snatch'd,
Had Will the mighty then beene hatch'd,
Had he beene Genorall I wiss'e,
Boyl'd Crane had gone to pot ere this,
He would have made their Forces yeild,
Yes, and had Pillage too o'th' Feild.
Woe tide the Bagge, Baggage and Canon,
Few words my Muse, I doubt they ha-none:
But had they any cold or hot gun,
All's Wils, from Culverin to Pot-gun.
In Quest of whom nere straine your Artirs,
To find Molluccans, Indians, Tartars,
No foraigne wildernesse or faire den,
His Forrest is the Privy Garden.
Where oft before and after vittles,
He walkes, and then retires to skittles.
The Pinnes eye witnesses beleive)
Are stiffe as need to sticke on sleeve,
His Ninth, some Authors say is larger,
And vast as that which fastens kercher,
But trigge him close, for Will can win,
Now marke him, downe goes Corner Pin.
Which pressing Earth vast burden proves,
As Feathers falne from breast of Doves,
Now weighty Bowle whence cruell stroakes
Divided are, to his Nine Oakes,
Is Reverend Pea, which Burgers they
With Bacon eate, for it is Gray.
Then hand is large (if mortall heed it)
As Moles which blind hath none to leade it,
And Mole with fist we know doth tosse a
Hill like a ball, Pelion on Ossa.
Hand-arme succeeds almost as bigge,
As brawny pettie toe of Pigge.
Arme with as Trusty bone is borne,
As what supporteth Eare of Corne.
Nerves thicke as Ropes, descry'd aloofe,
When Spider slides from toppe of Roofe.
But arme as deemes the strict beholder,
Is wondrous neare unto his shoulder.
Shoulder in spight of I or you,
Provoke him not, the squire hath two.
Wherewith (in contestation case)
He shoveth Frogs from place to place.
And to support they have beene found,
A mighty beame (of straw) from ground,
And well they may, for they instead
Of Columnes are to Necke and head.
Which head hath braines, there's nothing truer:
Ogge, Yeoman of the Guard hath fewer,
Wit he hath more then Gyant that,
Though he scarce weare so bigge a hat.
For seeing Beast one did bereave her,
Of seaventeene haires, which made his Beaver.
He takes a Silke-wormes Airy Twist,
(Such Oberon ties about his wrist)
That girts his hat, so big lookes that-band,
As Antique Mid-wives Cipresse hat-band.
That beares in hat (full spruce and fine)
What makes him sweat, his Valentine.

But head must not in any case,
Divided be from Necke and Face.
Face comely shap'd, with Fore-head smooth,
Eye under brow, and in Month Tooth:
Nose rising with convenient Ridge,
And broad as Edge of Knife i'th' bridge.
Beard plac'd on Chin, which he may twist
(When men curle Haire on backe of Fist.)
To head proportion'd Necke, where note,
It is not Taurus, Necke and Throat.

His Bulke is wide as Ring say some
On finger worne, some say on Thumbe.
The first (I feare) doe hardly hit it:
Your Finger Ring will never fit it.
For leaping like through Needle Camel,
Hee's knowne to justle of the Enamel.
Nay when through Thumbe-ring Feates he shewes yee,
Most Authors writes he marres the Posy
Where he destroyes ('tis wondrous strange)
I like my choice too well to change.

His Fleshy Thigh men justly call,
As large as Capons (bone and all)
The London Major (though Authors some sticke)
Tis thought nere eate a Fairer Drum-sticke.

His Brawny Legs with hand he knockes,
As plumpe in Calves as any Cockes.
When strutting him in bootes you see,
No Game-Cocke gingles more then he.

Now but his Foot all parts are past,
For which you may consult his last.
If he (at will) doe stockings use,
The Mouse weares hide that makes his shooes.
But Shooes alas (oh dismall day)
Occasion were of such a Fray
As hath not beene in England found,
Since Guy threw Gyant on the ground.

It hapned once (and who can say
What things may happen on a day?)
That hungry Kitten when she came
Now fully weaned from her Damme,
And quite debarr'd of Tet, must hast,
To seize on Mouse, or else must fast.
For few Pusse-Parents can say my purse
Will keepe my Kitten at a Dry Nurse.
One Cat in ten (youl hardly seeke,
Can part with halfe a Crowne a weeke)
When groaning paunch, and stomacke itchings,
Had forc'd her search Binnes, Buttrys, Kitchins.
But all in vaine, about did goe,
And could not dine upon her Foe.
Fortune at last (as who should say
Pusse thou shalt eate with me to day)
Design'd to shew the Duke some sport,
And did direct the Cat to Court:
She went, and willing to dispatch
She gap't, and lickt the Centries Match,
But Fire and Brimstone spoil'd her Message,
She thought it was the Devils Sassage.
From him she hyed, for her desire
Was much gainst Brimstone-Sauce, and Fire,
From staire to staire she jumpd along
Till at the last she spied a Throng,
Where Page that nere deserv'd rebuke,
Paid due attendance to the Duke.
She cryed as soone as here she come,
(Though few men heard it) Fee, Fa, Fum.
Be happy Pusse, for in this house,
I smell the bloud of English Mouse.
About she roaves, about she went,
Her supper still was in her scent,
But searching hole, and scraping Cranny,
She sigh'd, for why she found not any.
Her colour went, and she look'd Paler,
And much she fear'd her nose did faile her.
At last young bloud and warmer weather,
Threw relish hot from upper leather.
All things conspire, and jointly meete,
Will: Baker now defend thy foete.
Pusse couched low, and downe she lay,
In humble homage to her prey.
But as Antæus striving found
Fresh life and vigour from the ground,
So Pusse her limbes thus low had thrust,
To rise more active from the Dust:
And now (as hunger gave her wings)
Uncivill Cat rash bulke she flings
On Foot and Toes: As falling steele
Doth sundry wayes make mortall feele,
And doth enrage and move our hate,
More from its edge then from its weight:
So Pusse stout Wills just anger drawes
Lesse by her weight then by her Clawes;
But midst amazement and midst feares,
Just indignation, and just Teares,
By Reede in hand, with silver tipp't,
Rude Pusse is most severely whipt.

And then while both seeme to be even,
Affront was tane, affront was given,
A Ring was call'd, enraged they
Resolve to fall, or end the Fray.
But all this while, as wealthy Swaines
Enjoy not, but enthrall their Gaines.
Who coyne confinde to Chests inure,
Not to possesse, but to secure.
And from that strange unmanly itch,
Are their Golds Gaolers, but not Rich.
Soe Pusse now graspt what she did catch,
Nor did she feast on prey, but hatch.
Still brooding, still to tast was nice,
Her Twinne Imaginary Mice.

This gave advantage to her Foe,
And cost her many a sturdy blow.
Againe, sometimes she would withdraw,
And give her Yoke of Foes more law,
That at their motions she might rise,
And seize them by a fresh surprise.
Now all this while the Stripes fell thicke,
And vext the Cat unto the quicke.
Yet she forbore, and did but watch,
To checke the Tyrant with a scratch,
Whom seas'nably he kept in aw
By stretching out corrective paw.

But what amus'd her heart within her
Was he envy'd her, her dinner:
'Twas not so large, Dormouse in view
Might seeme a Beare to both these two.
So small they were, in any wise
She could descry nor head, nor Eyes.
Had she not been, sh'had left the fight,
More guided by her sent, then sight.
By that confirm'd, a fresh she flies,
And so renews her enterprize.

And now as Children dishes Court,
And wanton Tasts make meat their sport.
Till at the last these sports incite
Fresh Edge, and raise new appetite.
Soe Pusse by play more sharpe became,
Assuming hunger from her game.

Then on she fell, and by the Toes
Whole structure to the ground she Throwes.
But Gallant WILL did stroakes afford,
Till almost lost in chinke of Bord,
Where streightned by the place and feare
He wanted breath, to wield his speare.

But being both too fatall hearted,
They now by seconds both were parted.
When Will they take to give him Ayre,
And Seate him on broad-naile of Chaire;
And Pusse from him they severed farre.
Least they returne at unaware.

This Pauze (while Combatants were still)
Heard Votes for Pusse, and Uotes for Will.
For Factions part, as did the Ring,
And their divided suffræge bring.
But the discreet Indifferents, they
For the most part gave Will the day;
For though some urge (that though Will bleed)
His hand wav'd an assistant Reed.
And that the Pusse did Weapon scorne
But what was with her Cott ship borne.

They thus Reply, suppose one spide,
Who borne was with his Sword by's side,
Must Will fight with him (sword and all)
Because that sword is naturall?
Is he Wills match, say you that listend,
Because his Cutlers-shop was Christned?

But that which most the day did bend
Was from the Combats different end.
Wills heat from glory first did rise,
And a just sense of Iniuries.
Pusse, not to vanquish, but to Eat,
Lesse for her Honour, then her Meat.
Poore Trencher Duellist, if she fight,
No courage, 'tis but Appetite.

And this so swayd her, she was seene
To have re-entred lists agen.
And feircely to his Foot she goes
With fresh Defiance to his Toes.

But Will disabled now to rise,
By losse of bloud and freinds advise
Subscribed without more adoe,
To save his foot to part with Shooe.

“Wise Merchant thus on second thought,
“To save the Ship throwes ore the Fraught.
He parts with shooes, whence doth appeare,
Twas his discretion, not his feare.
For still he cryd with held up Knuckles,
You Rav'nous Queane returne my Buckles.