University of Virginia Library

Certaine Select Epigrams, made good by obseruance, experience, and instance: with an introduction to Time, including sundry conceipted passages, no lesse pleasant then present.

It's a mad world my Masters.

To the Precisian.

For the Precisian that dares hardly looke,
(Because th' art pure forsooth) on any booke
Saue Homilies, and such as tend to th' good
Of thee, and of thy zealous brother-hood:
Know my Time-noting lines ayme not at thee,
For thou art too too curious for mee.
I will not taxe that man that's wont to slay
“His Cat for killing mise on th' Sabboth day:
No; know my resolution it is thus,
I'de rather be thy foe then be thy pus:
And more should I gaine by 't: for I see,
The daily fruits of thy fraternity.
Yea, I perceiue why thou my booke should shun,
“Because there's many faultes th' art guiltie on:
Therefore with-drawe by me thou art not call'd,
Yet do not winch (good iade) when thou art gall'd,
I to the better sort my lines display,
I pray thee then keep thou thy selfe away.

The Church-Knight.

A Church-man was there on a time I reade,
Of great estate his father being dead,
Which got, his Syrpe-cloth he discarded quite,
Resoluing fully now to be a Knight:
Vp to the Court he goes with speede he can,
Where he encountred a North-britaine man,
With whom discoursing in his Euening walke,
He spoke of Knights 'mongst other idle talke,
How th' title it was worthie, and that he,
Could well endure entitled so to be;
For I do reade (quoth he) of such as these
Within the Ecclesiasticke histories:
What fame and honour they obtain'd by warre,
Which sir (belieue me made me come thus farre,
That I (if meanes or mony could obtaine it)
Might in respect to my profession gaine it.
The Brittanne his profession did require:
A Curate once, quoth he, of Brecknocke-shire,
Helde, I may say to you, a learned man;
But since my fathers death turn'd gentleman.
I ioy me in th' occasion th' Brittan sayd,
(Doubt not sir Priest) you shall a Knight be made;
And you deserue't: for though Knights common are.
“Holy church-knights, such as you be, seeme rare,
To Long-lane goes the Curate to prouide,
An ancient suite, and other things beside;
As skarfe and roses all of different colour,
Which bought, at White-friers staires he takes a Sculler.
Prepar'd with resolution all the sooner,
To gaine this priuiledge and Knightly honour;
VVhich hauing got by long petitioning suite,
And pai'd vnto the Brittain his first fruit,
To's Neighbors streight he hies-where they much grieue him
“For, swearing he's a knight, they'le not belieue him
Nor would they (such incredulous men were these)
Till he had showen discharge for all his fees.

An Epigramme alluding to the second Satyre of Ariosto, where he taxeth the Clergies pride and Ambition.

An Epigramme called the Cambrian Alchymist.

Vpon diuine Roscius.

Two famous Roscio's chanc't I to espie,
Acting a Metamorphosis, while I
Sleepe vnder th' couert of a shady wood,
VVhere great Archyas for the vmpire stood,
VVho did their seuerall actions thus define,
“Art-full the one, the other most diuiuine.

Vpon Roscius Hackney, in a Dialogue betwixt Expedition, & Endimion.

Exped.
Why-ho , Endimion; how th' Dormouse sleeps,
Awake for shame, open thy wink-a-peeps!

Endim.
What stur you make, I come with speed I can
(and too much speed) for I haue tyr'd my man;

Exped.
Who, Dulman?

Endim.
Yes.

Exped.
I thought the Iade would shame vs,
And play vs one horse-tricke for Ignoramus.

Vpon Tarbon the Countrey Gentleman.

Tarbon they say is mellancholly growne,
Because his wife takes phisicke in the towne:
VVhy, that's no cause; who would not hazard faire
To leaue both land and name vnto his heire?
Yea, but he doubts, (so iealous is the man)
That th' physicke workes not but Physitian.
VVhich if he finde, he sweares he meanes to call.
The child not Tarbon but young Vrinall.
O monstrous, by this thou'st truly showe,
Thy wife a punke, thou needs not call her so:
VVhich with thy fowre eyes Talbon if thou finde,
Ile neuer trust face, conscience, nor kinde.

An Epigram called the Court-Attourney.

Who's yon, young Stephano? why sure you iest,
You Gallants ride with 4. coach-horse at least;
Besides there is euen in his very eye,
A kinde of Court-like formall maiestie:
Its true; yet it is he: for you must know,
Young Stephano is turn'd a Courtier now
VVhich makes him complete, and whers'ere he goe,
He has his ducke, or its not worth a strawe:
But I do doubt, nor be my doubts in vaine,
The Courtier must Atturney turne againe.
And then he must be stript of euery ragge,
And fall againe vnto his buckram-bagge:
If this befall, I shall be sorry for't,
Sith Iohn astyles gets but small grace at Court.

An Epigramme called the Winde-fall.

Sir Sensuall (a wanton Priest) there was
Who made appointment with a Countrie lasse,
That 'gainst the time from market she 'st returne,
He would keepe tutch and doe her a good turne.
The place where these two louely mates should meet
Was a vast forrest vnfrequent'd with feete
of any passenger, saue such as were
Keepers of th' wood, 'mongst which a Forrester,
Vpon occasion chaunc't to come that way,
And heard eue-dropper-like what they did say,
Their place of meeting, with the maides consent
Which he resolv'd as quickly to preuent.
And being vnder shade securely sconst,
Which place he had elected for the nonst,
He staies to see th' returne of this same Lasse,
(which as she wish't) did quickly come to passe:
For Maids that know not what tis to consent
To a lost Maiden-head, nor what is meant
by giuing of a greene gowne, sooner will
Assent to ill, because they know no ill,
Then such as haue of actiue pleasures store,
For well were they experienst in't before.
Yea such will neuer deale vnlesse they smell,
Some hope of gaine, or like the trader well.
At last the maide hauing her market made,
(Perhaps far sooner then her Parents bade)
With clothes tuckt vp returnes with speedy pace,
Downe by the Forrest to'th appointed place.
Where'th Priest Sir sensuall lay all this while,
That he the Maid might of her gem beguile.
If you had seene what meeting there was then,
Betwixt these two, you would haue vou'd no men
Of any ranke or order were so good.
As Church-professors vnto woman-hood.
So humble was the prelate, as to please.
The shamefast maid, he oft fell on his knees.
VVhile mumbling pater nosters on her lips,
Down fell his breeches from his naked hips.
And all this while poore soule she stood stock still,
Not thinking (on my conscience) good or ill.
At last the iolly Priest (when all was showne,
That he could show) wil'd th' maid to lay her down,
Vpon a shadie banke, which with all sorts,
Of flowres was checkerd fit for Venus sports.
She (though she were resolu'd no ill could be
By lying downe, yet in her modesty)
VVould not vnto his motion so assent,
Yet let him blow her downe she was content.
The short-breath'd Priest (for he was wondrous fat)
And stuff'd withall, makes me no bones of that,
But Æolus-like puf's vp his cheeks well growne,
And he no sooner blows then she was downe.
The Forrester who all this time had stood,
Vnder a shadie couert of the wood,
Steps in, when'th Priest his shriuing should begin,
Saying all wind-falls they are due to him.
Manie such Priests auncient records doe show,
And present times may show as many now.

Another Epigram called, A Cuckold with a witnesse.

A vvilie wench there was (as I haue read)
VVho vs'd to capricorne her husbands head,
VVhich he suspecting, lay in priuate wait,
To catch the knaue, and keep his wife more strait.
But all in vaine: they day by day did mate it,
Yet could his foure eies neuer take them at it.
This subtile wench perceiuing how they should
At last preuented be, doe all they could:
For now Italian-like her husband grew,
Horne-mad I wish, and kept her in a Mew.
Inuent'd a trick, which to accomplish better,
Vnto her friend she closely sent a letter,
And thus it was; Friend you shall know by me,
My husband keepes me far more narrowlie,
Then he was wont, so as to tell you true,
You cannot come to me: nor I to you.
Yet spite of his eies and as many more,
VVele vse those pleasures which we vsd before:
Onely be wise, and second what I wish:
VVhich to expresse (my friend) know this it is.
My husband as he hates the horne to weare,
Of all the Badges forth, so feares he'th Beare,
More then all other Beasts which doe frequent
The heathy Forrests spacious continent.
If thou wilt right me then, and pepper him,
Couer thy seruant in a false Beares skin.
And come to morrow, as thou vs'd before,
Tying thy seruant to my chamber dore.
After this quaint direction he attirde
His man in beare-skin as she had desir'de
Entring the chamber he receiued is
VVith many a smile, back-fall, and sweetned kisse:
For they'r secure, of all that was before,
Hauing a Beare that kept the Buffe from dore.
The wittall foole no sooner inckling had,
Then vp the staiers he ran as he were mad.
But seeing none but th' Beare to entertaine him,
Of Hornes he neuer after did complaine him.

In Romanum Mnestorem.

It chanc't two Romane Conuerts on a day,
For pater noster at the Cards to play;
She mop'd, he pop'd; his popping could not get her,
“For she thought popping elsewher had been fitter.
Thus he went home no wiser then he came,
Sith popping was the Puppies chiefest game.

In Poetam Hippodramum.

OR Post-riding Poet.

It tooke a Poet once I'th head to poast,
For what I know not, but I'me sure it cost
His purse far more (as I haue heard soms say)
Then ere his Muse was able to repay.

In Numularium antiphylon.

Cash-coind? its true; but he intends to be
The stamper of that Coine is due to me.
Pray thee (my friend) forbeare to set it on,
(My stampe I meane) till I haue throughly done:
And I protest to thee, when I haue ended,
I'le yeeld to thee, if she say thou canst mend it.

In Romanum Sacerdotem.

A Romane Priest came to absolue a Virgin by the way,
As he in his Procession went: where hee resolu'd to stay
A night. For what? not to absolue the tender Virgins sinne,
But as a Ghostly Fathers wont, to let more errors in:
The doore was shut, the candle out, for I would haue you mark,
A carnall Father best absolues a Virgin in the darke:
Which absolution so increasd, in zeale and purity,
As within sixe and forty weekes it grew a Tympany,
A girle forsooth, baptized Ioan, nor is it any shame,
For th' wench in time may proue Pope Ioan the second of that name.

In Phylætum.

Phylætus writing loue-lines on a day,
A Ratte came in and stole his lines away.
Phyletus slept on still, and minded not
While th' hungry Ratte eat vp the lines he wrote;
If I were to be Iudge, as much may be,
The Rat should be in loue, Phyletus free,
That seeing th' saucy Rat to loue enthrall'd,
Loue-bayne heereafter might be Rats-baine call'd.

An Epigram called the Courtier.

Now heauen preserue mine eyesight what is here?
A man made vp in Wainscot? now I sweare,
I tooke him for some Colosse; sure I erre,
This is not he: yes: this's the Courtier,
Braue Pun-tevallo, for those armes he beares,
(An Asse head rampant) and that chaine he weares,
By blest Saint Martin, doe descry it's he,
Well, ile obserue his carriage narrowly.
VVhat makes him go so stiffe, has he the gout?
No, but a fire in's hams that went not out
These seuen yeares to my knowledge: then it has
Begun (it seems bout time) when th' glasse-work was;
Its true, it did so, I haue heard some say,
He has a pleasant wit, he has one way
A pretty thriuing wit, can make a legge,
And harken out what office he may begge.
Can looke as big and burly on such men,
(Poore Gnats) that come for to petition him,
As Giants in a Pagent, can protest,
For meere formality, laugh at a iest,
(Without conceiuing out) has witte enough,
To put good close on, beare his face in's ruffe.
Like a braue sprightly Spaniard, will not let,
With some new minted oaths to pay his debt,
And can dispense with them, nor does he more,
In this, then what his Elders did before.
VVith truth (in complement) he seldome meetes,
For naked truth with Eue lies without sheetes,
And he endures not that, nor can incline,
To such a motion, but in progresse time.
He cannot blush (no more can women now)
Till that their pretie painter tell them how.
He ha's a kind of vaine in sonnetting,
Purchast by brocage or by pilfering,
VVith which he wooes his mistresse, he will set,
His face to any fashion, and will bett,
VVagers on Ladies honours: hauing forgotten
VVhat he should speake, hee's fingering his button,
Or some such trifling action, till he store
himselfe with wit, which he had lost before:
Nor did that Morall erre, who wisely would,
Compare a Courtiers witte to th' Marigold.
It opens with the Sunne, but beeing set
The Mari-gold shuts vp, so doth his witte.
The Marigold's most cheer'd by mid-day sunne,
So's he, whence i'st, he lies in bed till noone.
Occasion is his Cupid, lust his lure,
Pleasure his Pander, dalliance his whoore,
He h'as but one receipt of making loue,
And being put out, he cannot speake, nor moue,
But like a liue-lesse image, seemes to be,
Till by good hap his speech recouered be.
He smells of Complement, in presence faire,
And vses oft to weare bracelets of haire,
Swearing they came from such, but tis not so,
For t'was some tyre-woman he tooke them fro.
The Ornaments which he admires are these,
To faune, to obserue times, to court, to please,
To make strange faces, sleeke his prefum'd skin,
Starch his Mouchatoes, and forget his sinne.
To dance, to dice, to congie, to salute,
To stamp, to stalke, to finger well a lute.
To tremble at a Cannon when it shootes,
To like, dislike, and fill his head with doubts.
To be in passion, wind his carelesse armes,
To plie his Mistresse with delightfull charmes.
To be for all, yet ignorant in all,
To be disguisd, and strange fantasticall:
Briefly to be, what all his kind haue beene,
Seeme what they be not, be what least they seeme.
Such is my Puntauallo, and in time
No question but hee'l prooue true Pantomime,
To imitate all formes, shapes, habits, tyres
Suting the Court, and sorting his desires,
And then what th' Satyre said, shall well appeare:
The Deuill is the perfects Courtier.
Hauing my complete Courtier thus defin'd,
I haue no more that I can call to minde,
“Saue what is common, and is knowne to all,
“That Courtiers as the tide doe rise and fall,
So I will end with what I haue writ before,
“Till the' next tide come, and then I wil write more.

Vpon his much honoured friend Master William Ascam, and his selected Temple.

Epigram.

Aske him what Temple most delighteth him,
And hee'l replye, that Temple thou art in.
Aske him what Praiers should in that Temple be,
And he'le replie, what prayers best liketh thee:
Aske him what Temple yeelds him most content,
And he'le reply thy Temple, ther's his Saynt.
Aske him what Temple's purer then aboue.
He'le say thy Temple: there's the Queene of Loue;
Then let me aske your iudgement is't not fit,
That Temple honour him, that honours it?

Posies vpon bracelets.

As loue giues life to euery part,
So this giues life vnto my hart:
This chastly lies, and liues with me,
O that I might doe so with thee?

Another.

[How might I triumph in my blisse]

How might I triumph in my blisse;
If loue were where my Bracelet is.
For then should loue do no such harm
To wring my heart, but wreath my arme.