Qvips vpon qvestions or, A Clownes conceite on occasion offered. bewraying a morrallised metamorphoses of changes vpon interrogatories: shewing a litle wit, with a great deale of will; or in deed, more desirous to please in it, then to profite by it. Clapt vp by a Clowne of the towne in this last restraint, hauing litle else to doe, to make a litle vse of his fickle Muse, and carelesse of carping. By Clunnyco de Curtanio Snuffe [i.e. Robert Armin] |
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 | Qvips vpon qvestions |  |
Whers the Deuill?
One askes me where the Deuill is? Much I muse
What makes this madd man so his name to vse.
It may be he would bargaine with the spirit,
For much he hath that some would faigne inherit.
If it be so, much good may do his hart,
How ere he deales, thers few will take his part.
What makes this madd man so his name to vse.
It may be he would bargaine with the spirit,
For much he hath that some would faigne inherit.
If it be so, much good may do his hart,
How ere he deales, thers few will take his part.
I say he is, or else should be, in hell,
True, he should be there: but I can tell
Hee's now not there, hee's otherwayes employde,
He keepes his Christmas other where abrode.
It may so be, I know not certainlie:
None knowes, but you may be his secretarie.
True, he should be there: but I can tell
Hee's now not there, hee's otherwayes employde,
He keepes his Christmas other where abrode.
It may so be, I know not certainlie:
None knowes, but you may be his secretarie.
If on the earth he be, Ile tell you where,
In an Vsurers bagge of money: Is he there?
For money ill got, bringes the deuill and all.
A number say so, though their skill be small.
Yet you are wide, and know not his abode,
In the Cittie he is, some saw him where he rode.
In an Vsurers bagge of money: Is he there?
For money ill got, bringes the deuill and all.
A number say so, though their skill be small.
Yet you are wide, and know not his abode,
In the Cittie he is, some saw him where he rode.
Hee's got into a boxe of Womens paint,
And there he lyes, bathing him selfe so quaint,
Lockt vp as close as may be in her chist,
All this is right, beleeue it they that list.
Where pride is, thers the Diuell: all this is vaine,
Yet still you misse, then reckon once againe.
And there he lyes, bathing him selfe so quaint,
Lockt vp as close as may be in her chist,
Where pride is, thers the Diuell: all this is vaine,
Yet still you misse, then reckon once againe.
I am right glad I misse, and came not neare him,
It is my whole desier still to feare him:
Hee's one that with whom I haue had no dealing,
And therefore of his kindnes haue small feeling
O foole, I tell thee where he is: shun euill,
For where God is not, there is sure the Deuill.
It is my whole desier still to feare him:
Hee's one that with whom I haue had no dealing,
And therefore of his kindnes haue small feeling
O foole, I tell thee where he is: shun euill,
For where God is not, there is sure the Deuill.
Where is not God? I pray thee tell me that?
Not heere I feare, our mindes agree so par,
That medling with the Deuill, who neare was kinde,
It shewes the follies of a wauering minde
Beshrew thy hart, first that didst aske this doubt,
For one bad question, driues two good thoughts out.
Not heere I feare, our mindes agree so par,
That medling with the Deuill, who neare was kinde,
It shewes the follies of a wauering minde
Beshrew thy hart, first that didst aske this doubt,
For one bad question, driues two good thoughts out.
Quip.
Fooles talke like fooles, while wisemen sitWisely to descant on an others wit:
What need they meadle where th'haue nought to do,
This shewes their folly, and their weaknes to:
But now I see all reason set a part,
The Deuill's not in hell, but in his hart.
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