 | The honest ghost |  |
238
The Criticall Ape.
Now by my life, a blind man may discover
A Ship of fools or Dottrells new come over.
Have you heard such a crue of brainless Skulls,
As if they had been bred i'th' Ile of gulls,
Boast of the Vilanies that they have done,
Meaning to end just as they have begun?
Heere a great Lord like one of Isis Asses
In my conceite all other fooles surpasses;
For he consumes his Lungs when he doth see
Any Man grac'd or in esteeme but hee.
'Tis worth observing too, to note how sin
Retaines a kinde of priviledge in him.
Be his vile courses nere so indirect,
The greatnesse of his place will him protect,
And give such lustre to his vices too
As they like vertues shine in outward show.
For where Ambition or Oppression either,
Yea all enormious vices put together
Are covered with State, inferiours love them,
At least there 's few dare censure or reprove them:
So as that maxim's true in my conceit,
“It is a rare Sight to be good and great.
But I doe heare this high-aspiring fellow,
Is in a single combat or Duello
Upon disgraces offer'd, prest to fight
With an Hispaniolized Favorite;
But I'm perswaded neither of them both
(So highly grac'd they are) but will be loth
To shed one others blood, hows'ere they prate it,
Unlesse they be dispenst with for the Statute.
But should one kill the other in this sort,
I thinke the State had cause to thanke them for't.
A Ship of fools or Dottrells new come over.
Have you heard such a crue of brainless Skulls,
As if they had been bred i'th' Ile of gulls,
Boast of the Vilanies that they have done,
Meaning to end just as they have begun?
Heere a great Lord like one of Isis Asses
In my conceite all other fooles surpasses;
For he consumes his Lungs when he doth see
Any Man grac'd or in esteeme but hee.
'Tis worth observing too, to note how sin
Retaines a kinde of priviledge in him.
Be his vile courses nere so indirect,
The greatnesse of his place will him protect,
And give such lustre to his vices too
As they like vertues shine in outward show.
For where Ambition or Oppression either,
Yea all enormious vices put together
Are covered with State, inferiours love them,
At least there 's few dare censure or reprove them:
So as that maxim's true in my conceit,
“It is a rare Sight to be good and great.
239
Is in a single combat or Duello
Upon disgraces offer'd, prest to fight
With an Hispaniolized Favorite;
But I'm perswaded neither of them both
(So highly grac'd they are) but will be loth
To shed one others blood, hows'ere they prate it,
Unlesse they be dispenst with for the Statute.
But should one kill the other in this sort,
I thinke the State had cause to thanke them for't.
Now Verulam, good Man, is in his grave,
I muse who shall his House and Title have;
That spatious-specious-pretiouss refectorie,
Which cost a world of wealth, so saith the storie:
Those peble-paved Brookes, empaled Lakes,
Thick clad with countless sholes of Ducks & Drakes.
For's Ladie, she has got one now, will busse her,
And chang'd her Uselesse Vicount for her Vsher;
Whence th' Crosse-inne may report, as sure it will,
“A Countesse dain'd to lye her Vnder hill.
For him whome some call his adopted Heire,
Our waggs point at the Tow'r, and say hee's there,
Where he with his She Cousins plays at Gleeke,
Though some make bold to say he's in by th'weeke.
But what is that to me! this would I know
Whether he be Saint Alban yea or no.
Saint Alban! no; yet Alban was a Martyr,
And one each gate, i'th Towne bestow'd a quarter;
Now th' State might well afford it to bestow
That Style on him, would he be Martyr too.
For I ne're read that any Age did call
Saint Alban Martyr Lord High Admirall.
But God will have a stroake in every Man,
Witnesse the dismall shot of Eglesham,
Whose fate was this Dukes fall, enforc'd to loose
Those Honours by a stabbe whereto he rose;
“So weake's that Arch of Greatnesse which relyes
“On Complements and meere formalities:
But God is mercifull, as he is just,
To whom, with whom I leave him, so I trust.
I muse who shall his House and Title have;
That spatious-specious-pretiouss refectorie,
Which cost a world of wealth, so saith the storie:
Those peble-paved Brookes, empaled Lakes,
Thick clad with countless sholes of Ducks & Drakes.
For's Ladie, she has got one now, will busse her,
And chang'd her Uselesse Vicount for her Vsher;
Whence th' Crosse-inne may report, as sure it will,
“A Countesse dain'd to lye her Vnder hill.
For him whome some call his adopted Heire,
Our waggs point at the Tow'r, and say hee's there,
Where he with his She Cousins plays at Gleeke,
Though some make bold to say he's in by th'weeke.
But what is that to me! this would I know
Whether he be Saint Alban yea or no.
Saint Alban! no; yet Alban was a Martyr,
And one each gate, i'th Towne bestow'd a quarter;
Now th' State might well afford it to bestow
That Style on him, would he be Martyr too.
240
Saint Alban Martyr Lord High Admirall.
But God will have a stroake in every Man,
Witnesse the dismall shot of Eglesham,
Whose fate was this Dukes fall, enforc'd to loose
Those Honours by a stabbe whereto he rose;
“So weake's that Arch of Greatnesse which relyes
“On Complements and meere formalities:
But God is mercifull, as he is just,
To whom, with whom I leave him, so I trust.
Next him, an Ape of pleasure or delight,
A very sensual fleshly Sibarite;
And he triumphs, fond Ape, as much as may be,
In favors shewn him by his wanton Ladie.
Yet should he but unto the world be sent
Nak'd, he would die for want of nourishment;
For then his outward beauty would deceive him,
His consorts loath him, and his pleasures leave him.
For this mine axiom is, He that doth find
“More comfort in his body then his mind,
“May feed, and glut, and gormandize his time,
“Yet all this while he lives but like a Swine;
“Who spends his dayes in Surfeits and in Sinning,
“Making his end far worse then his beginning.
A very sensual fleshly Sibarite;
And he triumphs, fond Ape, as much as may be,
In favors shewn him by his wanton Ladie.
Yet should he but unto the world be sent
Nak'd, he would die for want of nourishment;
For then his outward beauty would deceive him,
His consorts loath him, and his pleasures leave him.
For this mine axiom is, He that doth find
“More comfort in his body then his mind,
“May feed, and glut, and gormandize his time,
“Yet all this while he lives but like a Swine;
“Who spends his dayes in Surfeits and in Sinning,
“Making his end far worse then his beginning.
Next him, a shallow, weake, vaine-glorious-gull,
Of styles and titles who is stuck so full,
As there is none, such honours doe befall him,
That know to day, to morrow how to call him.
Yet lend your ear, I'le tell you in a word
What this Colossus is, A Spongy Lord,
Whose merit's meane, whose apprehension small,
Great onely in his Titles, that is all.
The way by which he seekes esteeme to gaine
Is this, he strives great States to entertaine;
Conduits run Rhenish, and the Kings high street
Smells of his odours and his perfumes sweet.
In publique wayes his bounty he displayes
In Sucket, Bisket, Wafers, Carawayes;
At one reere-supper in expence more large
Then all his yeares Revenues will discharge.
The height of his Ambition is to get
By Citizens acquaintance into debt;
But I suppose till he has paid old score,
They will be loath to lend him any more:
Then let him paune his Honour, but this age
Is farre too wise to credit such a gage.
This Ape hows'ere in State himselfe he beare,
He can with patience take a box o' th'eare
And n'ere repine, as if he did allow it
More Courtier-like to take a wrong then do it;
For he through meekenes of his spirit doth prize
Patience above the weight of injuries.
Of styles and titles who is stuck so full,
As there is none, such honours doe befall him,
That know to day, to morrow how to call him.
Yet lend your ear, I'le tell you in a word
What this Colossus is, A Spongy Lord,
241
Great onely in his Titles, that is all.
The way by which he seekes esteeme to gaine
Is this, he strives great States to entertaine;
Conduits run Rhenish, and the Kings high street
Smells of his odours and his perfumes sweet.
In publique wayes his bounty he displayes
In Sucket, Bisket, Wafers, Carawayes;
At one reere-supper in expence more large
Then all his yeares Revenues will discharge.
The height of his Ambition is to get
By Citizens acquaintance into debt;
But I suppose till he has paid old score,
They will be loath to lend him any more:
Then let him paune his Honour, but this age
Is farre too wise to credit such a gage.
This Ape hows'ere in State himselfe he beare,
He can with patience take a box o' th'eare
And n'ere repine, as if he did allow it
More Courtier-like to take a wrong then do it;
For he through meekenes of his spirit doth prize
Patience above the weight of injuries.
Next a licentious selfe-conceited Ape,
Who in the Court such sport doth daily make,
The Ladies, he protests, so value him
They would not want the Wag for any thing.
His Parentage he likewise doth disclose,
Least his descent should admiration lose,
Which he describes, and I believe him, thus;
A Courtier gat him of a Succubus;
Of whom both bred and flesht, he nightly trades
In darke Court-entries with his Ladies maides:
Which Ladies well observing, doe attire
Themselves like maids, that they might have like hire.
In ev'ry Mask, Court-show or Enterlude,
He must make one, or it is holden rude;
For (as he thinks) he is by Ladies eyde,
More then all those that are employ'd beside.
Yet let me tell you, this conceited fancy
Whereof he labours, brought him to a phrensy;
Nor is he yet recover'd, but inchain'd
Untill his madding humor be reclaim'd.
Who in the Court such sport doth daily make,
The Ladies, he protests, so value him
They would not want the Wag for any thing.
His Parentage he likewise doth disclose,
Least his descent should admiration lose,
Which he describes, and I believe him, thus;
A Courtier gat him of a Succubus;
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In darke Court-entries with his Ladies maides:
Which Ladies well observing, doe attire
Themselves like maids, that they might have like hire.
In ev'ry Mask, Court-show or Enterlude,
He must make one, or it is holden rude;
For (as he thinks) he is by Ladies eyde,
More then all those that are employ'd beside.
Yet let me tell you, this conceited fancy
Whereof he labours, brought him to a phrensy;
Nor is he yet recover'd, but inchain'd
Untill his madding humor be reclaim'd.
Next him a wastefull, formall fashion-monger,
A finicall, superfluous state-wronger,
Who boasts of his invention in devising
All those strange fashions in our State arising,
Which by his travaile were first brought a shore,
For to this Ile they were not knowne before.
Nor is his forraine travell unrequited,
So much are we with his conceit delighted;
For to discharge the debt that we doe owe him,
A yeerly-Pension doe we pay unto him.
Wee pay unto him! No; I scorne it I,
That any such Pie-colour'd Butter-flie
Should gaine by me or any one of mine,
To geld the State, or gull the present time.
Yea rather then Ide second such a Cheat,
Ile see his carrion-gutts about his feet.
But I commit him till he pay his Tayler
To Brokers-Lavender, or to the Jayler,
Where let him lie in nastie, nittie-linnen,
Till he make satisfaction for his sinning.
A finicall, superfluous state-wronger,
Who boasts of his invention in devising
All those strange fashions in our State arising,
Which by his travaile were first brought a shore,
For to this Ile they were not knowne before.
Nor is his forraine travell unrequited,
So much are we with his conceit delighted;
For to discharge the debt that we doe owe him,
A yeerly-Pension doe we pay unto him.
Wee pay unto him! No; I scorne it I,
That any such Pie-colour'd Butter-flie
Should gaine by me or any one of mine,
To geld the State, or gull the present time.
Yea rather then Ide second such a Cheat,
Ile see his carrion-gutts about his feet.
But I commit him till he pay his Tayler
To Brokers-Lavender, or to the Jayler,
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Till he make satisfaction for his sinning.
Next an Observing-Ape, who travels Nations
To gaine him knowledge by his Observations,
Glories in those strange coasts where he hath beene,
And in the Novels he hath heard and seene.
Nought he observes but he relateth it,
And yet me thinks, he somthing doth omit:
Which if he had remembred, sure I thinke,
Could not so soone into oblivion sinke.
But I must tell him of it; “Sir, do you heare?
“A strange Conjunction hapned this last yeere
“Twixt Mars and Jupiter; pray now divine
“What this Prognosticates to after time.
“Some, and the wisest, of opinion are
“That it presageth famine, others warre,
“Others, some pestilent-disease occurring,
“Causing men die on heapes by such a murrin.
“But what is your opinion?—l'as poor sot,
He eyther has forgot or knoweth not
What Constellations meane! But sirra, you,
Who knows more coasts then ere Columbus knew;
While forraine-Country wonders are made known,
You much forget this Country of your owne.
For in this Iland where your selfe was borne,
Did you nere visit Glastenbury-Thorne?
Saint Thomas Beckets path, his Shrine, his Cell?
The Civit-senting Mosse of Win'freds well?
The Stones of Salsbury-plain, which none can number?
The Stones of Whitby-strand, that Snakie wonder?
Bruertons Logg which on a Mote doth lye,
And sinking bodes, The Ancestor must dye.
Or of Saint Quintins (as Ive heard it told)
Whose ancient Seat is Harpham on the would,
Where at such times as chiefe of th'house shall dy,
A Drum to th'hearing of the neighbours by,
For three daies space together sounds alarum,
(A gentle easie summons to prepare him.)
Which dying march, (as I have understood)
Issues from th'covert of a shadie wood,
But whence or how produc'd, that know not I,
(A Sacred-Secret Seal'd from mortall eye.)
But it implies (this Charity will grant)
He dies a Champion ith'Church militant.
Or of those Cornish-Choughs I'm sure you heare,
Which built at Claughton once in Lancashire,
Who, as I've heard it there reported oft,
When a late Ancestor sirnamed Croft
Deceas'd, fled streight from thence (but God knows whither)
Where they had built for many yeeres together.
Which ominous or no, I cannot tell,
Nor what it boded can I gather well,
But people thereabout affirme, it wants
Her ancient priviledg'd inhabitants,
Who left their Country-coast, their native nest,
And took plantation where they liked best.
Or of those rare, intestine, civill-warres,
Or fatall skirmishings of Irish-Stares,
Where son with father fought, daughter with mother,
Shedding the reeking blood of one another:
Nor could their quenchlesse rage extinguish'd be,
But by an universall Tragedie;
For there was scarce one left (as I 've heard say)
To bring their fellowes word, who won the day.
So hot is fury (as appear'd by these)
As it respects no State, Sex, nor Degrees,
But breathing forth revenge holds on the fight
A tedious Summers day from Morn to Night.
To gaine him knowledge by his Observations,
Glories in those strange coasts where he hath beene,
And in the Novels he hath heard and seene.
Nought he observes but he relateth it,
And yet me thinks, he somthing doth omit:
Which if he had remembred, sure I thinke,
Could not so soone into oblivion sinke.
But I must tell him of it; “Sir, do you heare?
“A strange Conjunction hapned this last yeere
“Twixt Mars and Jupiter; pray now divine
“What this Prognosticates to after time.
“Some, and the wisest, of opinion are
“That it presageth famine, others warre,
“Others, some pestilent-disease occurring,
“Causing men die on heapes by such a murrin.
“But what is your opinion?—l'as poor sot,
He eyther has forgot or knoweth not
What Constellations meane! But sirra, you,
Who knows more coasts then ere Columbus knew;
While forraine-Country wonders are made known,
You much forget this Country of your owne.
For in this Iland where your selfe was borne,
Did you nere visit Glastenbury-Thorne?
Saint Thomas Beckets path, his Shrine, his Cell?
The Civit-senting Mosse of Win'freds well?
The Stones of Salsbury-plain, which none can number?
The Stones of Whitby-strand, that Snakie wonder?
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And sinking bodes, The Ancestor must dye.
Or of Saint Quintins (as Ive heard it told)
Whose ancient Seat is Harpham on the would,
Where at such times as chiefe of th'house shall dy,
A Drum to th'hearing of the neighbours by,
For three daies space together sounds alarum,
(A gentle easie summons to prepare him.)
Which dying march, (as I have understood)
Issues from th'covert of a shadie wood,
But whence or how produc'd, that know not I,
(A Sacred-Secret Seal'd from mortall eye.)
But it implies (this Charity will grant)
He dies a Champion ith'Church militant.
Or of those Cornish-Choughs I'm sure you heare,
Which built at Claughton once in Lancashire,
Who, as I've heard it there reported oft,
When a late Ancestor sirnamed Croft
Deceas'd, fled streight from thence (but God knows whither)
Where they had built for many yeeres together.
Which ominous or no, I cannot tell,
Nor what it boded can I gather well,
But people thereabout affirme, it wants
Her ancient priviledg'd inhabitants,
Who left their Country-coast, their native nest,
And took plantation where they liked best.
Or of those rare, intestine, civill-warres,
Or fatall skirmishings of Irish-Stares,
Where son with father fought, daughter with mother,
Shedding the reeking blood of one another:
245
But by an universall Tragedie;
For there was scarce one left (as I 've heard say)
To bring their fellowes word, who won the day.
So hot is fury (as appear'd by these)
As it respects no State, Sex, nor Degrees,
But breathing forth revenge holds on the fight
A tedious Summers day from Morn to Night.
But sure these
News are come unto your eare,
The bruit whereof's dispers'd in every sheare:
The fatall vesper (Man) where th'Romish pastor
Brought to himselfe and numbers more disaster.
Which tragick act should not so censur'd be
As if those men had sinned more then we;
For those on whom the Towre of Siloam fell
Were not the worst, as is observed well:
But rather let 's this application make,
(That of Gods judgements we may warning take:)
“If th'best employment that a Christian hath
“Be not secure from th' violls of Gods wrath,
“And that he spareth not, for our exemple,
“To chastise those who doe frequent his Temple;
“How can we look, when any of us come
“To Sinks of Sinne, but he will pay us home?
“We make our Brothells Temples, & in Stewes
“Our Saintly-formalists erect their Pewes;
“If Places of devotion then receive
“Such fearfull ruines as of late some have;
“How can these sensuall Synagogues but fall?
“Well, Boyes, a day will come will pay for all.
The bruit whereof's dispers'd in every sheare:
The fatall vesper (Man) where th'Romish pastor
Brought to himselfe and numbers more disaster.
Which tragick act should not so censur'd be
As if those men had sinned more then we;
For those on whom the Towre of Siloam fell
Were not the worst, as is observed well:
But rather let 's this application make,
(That of Gods judgements we may warning take:)
“If th'best employment that a Christian hath
“Be not secure from th' violls of Gods wrath,
“And that he spareth not, for our exemple,
“To chastise those who doe frequent his Temple;
“How can we look, when any of us come
“To Sinks of Sinne, but he will pay us home?
“We make our Brothells Temples, & in Stewes
“Our Saintly-formalists erect their Pewes;
246
“Such fearfull ruines as of late some have;
“How can these sensuall Synagogues but fall?
“Well, Boyes, a day will come will pay for all.
But sure he hears these news, for none be newer,
I meane that Ratsbane-Academick Bruer,
Who rather then he would his Bev'rage lose
Poyson'd rare hopefull Plants, as th' rumor goes.
Yet he lives still and flourisheth, nay more,
Continues selfe-same trade he us'd before;
Whereas if Justice executed were
Upon th' offender, as his crimes appeare,
“Who caus'd these Schollers such Rats deaths to dy,
“Should die a dogs-death, more have thought then I.
I meane that Ratsbane-Academick Bruer,
Who rather then he would his Bev'rage lose
Poyson'd rare hopefull Plants, as th' rumor goes.
Yet he lives still and flourisheth, nay more,
Continues selfe-same trade he us'd before;
Whereas if Justice executed were
Upon th' offender, as his crimes appeare,
“Who caus'd these Schollers such Rats deaths to dy,
“Should die a dogs-death, more have thought then I.
But sure you heare, (for who is 't heareth not)
Of th' monstrous fish in Vistula late got,
Which wore a triple-Miter on his head,
And on whose back were lively figured
Saint Peters-keyes, a partizan of warre,
Which Wizards doe divine predictions are
Of some strange thing that's likely to ensue,
Now what that is Ide gladly know from you.
Fall upon Rome, you answer somthing will,
But I would heare whether 't be good or ill:
For under cope of heav'n no State I know
But some occurrent it is subject to:
Wherefore resolve me, Sir, before you go,
Whether it bodes our State some good or no;
Or whether this same monstrous fish divine
Some doubtfull alteration in our time;
For sure I am nought can escape your dish
(If fit to be observ'd) be 't flesh or fish.
Of th' monstrous fish in Vistula late got,
Which wore a triple-Miter on his head,
And on whose back were lively figured
Saint Peters-keyes, a partizan of warre,
Which Wizards doe divine predictions are
Of some strange thing that's likely to ensue,
Now what that is Ide gladly know from you.
Fall upon Rome, you answer somthing will,
But I would heare whether 't be good or ill:
For under cope of heav'n no State I know
But some occurrent it is subject to:
Wherefore resolve me, Sir, before you go,
Whether it bodes our State some good or no;
Or whether this same monstrous fish divine
Some doubtfull alteration in our time;
247
(If fit to be observ'd) be 't flesh or fish.
But sure you 've heard or seen that fearfull vision,
Which th' wiser sort have held in great derision;
That white-mayl'd-Army marshalling her power,
All rankt in battail'ray on Burnley Moore;
Where not a man but vented his conceite;
One said it was an enemy to th' State,
Some Spinola that mortally doth hate us:
Some thought it was a Posse Comitatus
Rais'd in the County, purposely to seaze
On some Recusant for arrerages.
But most men held it was great Bacchus train,
Had shot those Squibs & Streamers in their brain:
For most of these that for this Vision stood
Could scarce discern a Souldier from a Cloud.
Which th' wiser sort have held in great derision;
That white-mayl'd-Army marshalling her power,
All rankt in battail'ray on Burnley Moore;
Where not a man but vented his conceite;
One said it was an enemy to th' State,
Some Spinola that mortally doth hate us:
Some thought it was a Posse Comitatus
Rais'd in the County, purposely to seaze
On some Recusant for arrerages.
But most men held it was great Bacchus train,
Had shot those Squibs & Streamers in their brain:
For most of these that for this Vision stood
Could scarce discern a Souldier from a Cloud.
But sure you heare (for 'twas within this sennet)
How Birds would be of th' Order of Saint Bennet,
How Raven, Crow, Pie, Sparrow (pretie Soule)
Flockt about Bennet, as sh'ad been an Owle:
How Raven taken in a golden dreame,
Would needs a naked Benedictan been,
Till th' sweet tun'd Finch with his melodious pleading,
Split Raven quite and plum'd him for his treading.
Which sharpe encounter cost Musæus more
Then all these Fowles could ever yet restore.
How Birds would be of th' Order of Saint Bennet,
How Raven, Crow, Pie, Sparrow (pretie Soule)
Flockt about Bennet, as sh'ad been an Owle:
How Raven taken in a golden dreame,
Would needs a naked Benedictan been,
Till th' sweet tun'd Finch with his melodious pleading,
Split Raven quite and plum'd him for his treading.
Which sharpe encounter cost Musæus more
Then all these Fowles could ever yet restore.
But zlid, Ide like forgot! he cannot chuse
But heare of Bugle-blues and Titre-tues,
Choice blades, brave youths; yea I durst almost sweare
That he has notice what their Projects were,
So as whats'ere he speak in 's own defence,
He cannot chuse but have intelligence,
And therefore should be censur'd;—'las not he,
Though he pretend some Rules of policie
Whereon his erring Observations stand,
He's held the veriest Widgeon in the land;
“For like a bottle (howsoere he show him)
“Nought he retaines, unless 't be put into him.
“So as me thinks I fitly may compare
“This simple Sot unto that muddie Maire,
“Who of his wisdome self-opinionate,
“Like to some state-observing Magistrate,
“Mongst other things which he was glancing at,
“Observ'd one weare a ribband in his hat
“Of dang'rous colour, for the field was blue,
“Whence he infer'd he was a Titre-tu,
“An enemy to th' State: streight to the place
“He sends his ale-tipt-Sergeant with his Mace,
“To summon this Titerian to appeare
“And show some cause why he such toyes did weare.
“The youth accosts the Maire; the Maire the youth;
“Who having stroakt his beard & wipt his mouth,
“Charg'd him upon th' Allegiance which he bore
“His Prince, to show why he such ribbands wore?
“Sir, quoth the youth, most Boyes in all our Parish
“Such ribbands weare in honor of our Morish.
“In honor of your Morish, quoth the Maire,
“You and your Morish shall taste both one fare.
“Brethren this Morice is a welshman borne,
“Who on Saint Davies day weares Leeks in scorne
“Of us true English-Brittains—I think meete
“To set you and your Morish both by th'feete;
“For we doe know hows'ere these Ruffins prate,
“Ribbands and Leeks are stratagems of State;
“Which well effected, to the Court Ile come,
“And show the Prince what service I have done.
But heare of Bugle-blues and Titre-tues,
Choice blades, brave youths; yea I durst almost sweare
That he has notice what their Projects were,
248
He cannot chuse but have intelligence,
And therefore should be censur'd;—'las not he,
Though he pretend some Rules of policie
Whereon his erring Observations stand,
He's held the veriest Widgeon in the land;
“For like a bottle (howsoere he show him)
“Nought he retaines, unless 't be put into him.
“So as me thinks I fitly may compare
“This simple Sot unto that muddie Maire,
“Who of his wisdome self-opinionate,
“Like to some state-observing Magistrate,
“Mongst other things which he was glancing at,
“Observ'd one weare a ribband in his hat
“Of dang'rous colour, for the field was blue,
“Whence he infer'd he was a Titre-tu,
“An enemy to th' State: streight to the place
“He sends his ale-tipt-Sergeant with his Mace,
“To summon this Titerian to appeare
“And show some cause why he such toyes did weare.
“The youth accosts the Maire; the Maire the youth;
“Who having stroakt his beard & wipt his mouth,
“Charg'd him upon th' Allegiance which he bore
“His Prince, to show why he such ribbands wore?
“Sir, quoth the youth, most Boyes in all our Parish
“Such ribbands weare in honor of our Morish.
“In honor of your Morish, quoth the Maire,
“You and your Morish shall taste both one fare.
“Brethren this Morice is a welshman borne,
“Who on Saint Davies day weares Leeks in scorne
249
“To set you and your Morish both by th'feete;
“For we doe know hows'ere these Ruffins prate,
“Ribbands and Leeks are stratagems of State;
“Which well effected, to the Court Ile come,
“And show the Prince what service I have done.
But were this State-sot ignorant of these,
Has surely heard of th' massacre of Reze,
So many Ensignes, Colours, Streamers, Standers,
Ancients, Lieutenants, Colonells, Commanders,
So many Heroes which we sometime had
In Coate of male, but now in Durance clad;
So many maine Land-pieces which did breath
The seldom welcome Embassie of death,
Seaz'd and surpriz'd, so as it may appeare,
The French at no time sold their salt so deare.
While some doe think th' English had won the day,
But that their Generall was slunke away;
But this is but some flying-false report,
And they that spread it would be censur'd for 't;
For is it likely such a man as he,
So stout (So sayes the Corrant Historie)
Should be on Sea, and scarcely understand
How his Commanders far'd that were a Land?
Or He rest safe from shot of Enemy,
And his whole Navy in such jeopardy?
Or so well entertain'd at his approach,
As to be sent for by the Kings owne Coach?
Bells to be rung in consort, which descry'de
The sorrow they conceiv'd for those that dide?
Bonefires erected in each publique streete,
With perfumes mixt, fit for a man so sweete,
And he deserve so ill? I cannot see
How a wise State should so deluded bee.
For nere was England brought to such a lurch,
Their Colours trail'd unto Saint Michaels Church
And reer'd in all contempt, as who should say,
Nere France ore England had a fairer day.
Has surely heard of th' massacre of Reze,
So many Ensignes, Colours, Streamers, Standers,
Ancients, Lieutenants, Colonells, Commanders,
So many Heroes which we sometime had
In Coate of male, but now in Durance clad;
So many maine Land-pieces which did breath
The seldom welcome Embassie of death,
Seaz'd and surpriz'd, so as it may appeare,
The French at no time sold their salt so deare.
While some doe think th' English had won the day,
But that their Generall was slunke away;
But this is but some flying-false report,
And they that spread it would be censur'd for 't;
For is it likely such a man as he,
So stout (So sayes the Corrant Historie)
Should be on Sea, and scarcely understand
How his Commanders far'd that were a Land?
Or He rest safe from shot of Enemy,
And his whole Navy in such jeopardy?
Or so well entertain'd at his approach,
As to be sent for by the Kings owne Coach?
250
The sorrow they conceiv'd for those that dide?
Bonefires erected in each publique streete,
With perfumes mixt, fit for a man so sweete,
And he deserve so ill? I cannot see
How a wise State should so deluded bee.
For nere was England brought to such a lurch,
Their Colours trail'd unto Saint Michaels Church
And reer'd in all contempt, as who should say,
Nere France ore England had a fairer day.
But our adherence now helps one another
As well becomes a reconciled Brother:
Which gallant Juncto may enrich our State;
Becoming sharers in the Silver plate.
Nor doe we feare, but wee next yeere shall catch it,
Should Argus & th' Hesperian-Sisters watch it.
Yet Ile be thus opinion'd till I die,
And so are many persons more then I;
Had but that martiall militarie place,
Seene but his sweet and amiable face,
It would have beene with admiration charm'd
To see Adonis like Bellona arm'd;
For had those Amazons so bravely bred
Been there encamp'd, they would have yield or fled.
But we are quite deceiv'd, the Golden-Fleece
Surprizeth Souldiers more then Ambergreece.
As well becomes a reconciled Brother:
Which gallant Juncto may enrich our State;
Becoming sharers in the Silver plate.
Nor doe we feare, but wee next yeere shall catch it,
Should Argus & th' Hesperian-Sisters watch it.
Yet Ile be thus opinion'd till I die,
And so are many persons more then I;
Had but that martiall militarie place,
Seene but his sweet and amiable face,
It would have beene with admiration charm'd
To see Adonis like Bellona arm'd;
For had those Amazons so bravely bred
Been there encamp'd, they would have yield or fled.
But we are quite deceiv'd, the Golden-Fleece
Surprizeth Souldiers more then Ambergreece.
Where hath this great Observer been the while,
And never view'd these wonders of our Ile?
In Court hee'll say to make himselfe some sport;
Well go to Sir, you must be jerked for 't,
And that will learne you wit another time,
To draw a curtaine o're a great-mans crime.
And never view'd these wonders of our Ile?
In Court hee'll say to make himselfe some sport;
Well go to Sir, you must be jerked for 't,
251
To draw a curtaine o're a great-mans crime.
But see you Silke-worme! who is one of those
Who scents the street with perfume where he goes;
A Courtly carpet-Ape who takes delight
In giving Raines unto his appetite.
There's many things which he doth glory in,
As first, he makes a profit of the king,
Farming his imposts at such easie rate,
As he both cheats the Prince and wrongs the State.
The next abuse, which addes no lesse disgrace
To men made eminent by ranke or place,
Is that he hath pow'r wheresoere he please
For to dispose of all Court-offices.
Besides, there's not a Captaine in the Land
Receives Exchequer-pay but from his hand;
Which must be guelt, as use hath beene before;
To make the Courtier rich, the Captaine poor.
He bestows Honors too, which to the cost
Of the receiver, fall on him bids most:
So he who hath deserv'd no stile at all
May have his penniworth when Markets fall.
To dignifie his undeserving pate,
The Academie makes him graduate,
Where if the Master of a House deceases,
He placeth and displaceth as he pleases.
I wonder much the State will suffer him
Thus to triumph and riot in his sin;
But sure he plays not such vile pranks as these,
Boasting too highly of his rogueries;
For many Court-pips be there that I know,
Who make a shew of more then they can doe:
If this be so, he well deserves descrying,
And to be cudgell'd roundly for his lying.
Who scents the street with perfume where he goes;
A Courtly carpet-Ape who takes delight
In giving Raines unto his appetite.
There's many things which he doth glory in,
As first, he makes a profit of the king,
Farming his imposts at such easie rate,
As he both cheats the Prince and wrongs the State.
The next abuse, which addes no lesse disgrace
To men made eminent by ranke or place,
Is that he hath pow'r wheresoere he please
For to dispose of all Court-offices.
Besides, there's not a Captaine in the Land
Receives Exchequer-pay but from his hand;
Which must be guelt, as use hath beene before;
To make the Courtier rich, the Captaine poor.
He bestows Honors too, which to the cost
Of the receiver, fall on him bids most:
So he who hath deserv'd no stile at all
May have his penniworth when Markets fall.
To dignifie his undeserving pate,
The Academie makes him graduate,
Where if the Master of a House deceases,
He placeth and displaceth as he pleases.
I wonder much the State will suffer him
Thus to triumph and riot in his sin;
But sure he plays not such vile pranks as these,
Boasting too highly of his rogueries;
252
Who make a shew of more then they can doe:
If this be so, he well deserves descrying,
And to be cudgell'd roundly for his lying.
But see yon City-Mammon how he struts,
As full of Sinns as he is stuff'd with Guts!
For nimble tricks I doe not know his match,
So sliely can the Urchin Cony-catch,
As none but he would think and see his feat,
That he had serv'd a Prentiship to cheat.
If he owe more then he intends to pay,
He seekes by all the conning meanes he may,
To frustrate his weake Creditors, whose Wits
Goe a wool-gathring, he Protection gits:
So as the hopes they ground on are but small,
For by this course he wipes their Nose of all.
Yet tickles he my itching spleene with laughter,
And makes me smile, I sweare, a sennet after,
To thinke how he deludes that Ape o'th Court,
Who labours his Protection in this sort.
He tells him, he shall in his Fortunes share,
And at his death he shall be made his Heire,
Upon which deed of gift the Gull relyes,
And's like to hang himselfe when th' Merchant dyes;
For now when he should seize upon his store,
He finds an other seiz'd thereon before.
In ev'ry Faire too he his tricks can play,
And sharke, and cheate, and profit day by day;
For Country people they so simple are,
They scarce discerne good from adulterate ware.
Besides all these, if th' Academie looke
Not to themselves, and shun his dangerous hooke,
He hath a tricke to gull them with the show
Of Sattin foreparts, Silken halfe-sleeves too.
But let him looke to 't, though his profits be
Great to him selfe, yet his posteritie
Drawn from ye loyns of this broad-spreading tetter,
I'm so resolv'd, will never thrive the better.
As full of Sinns as he is stuff'd with Guts!
For nimble tricks I doe not know his match,
So sliely can the Urchin Cony-catch,
As none but he would think and see his feat,
That he had serv'd a Prentiship to cheat.
If he owe more then he intends to pay,
He seekes by all the conning meanes he may,
To frustrate his weake Creditors, whose Wits
Goe a wool-gathring, he Protection gits:
So as the hopes they ground on are but small,
For by this course he wipes their Nose of all.
Yet tickles he my itching spleene with laughter,
And makes me smile, I sweare, a sennet after,
To thinke how he deludes that Ape o'th Court,
Who labours his Protection in this sort.
He tells him, he shall in his Fortunes share,
And at his death he shall be made his Heire,
Upon which deed of gift the Gull relyes,
And's like to hang himselfe when th' Merchant dyes;
For now when he should seize upon his store,
He finds an other seiz'd thereon before.
In ev'ry Faire too he his tricks can play,
And sharke, and cheate, and profit day by day;
For Country people they so simple are,
They scarce discerne good from adulterate ware.
253
Not to themselves, and shun his dangerous hooke,
He hath a tricke to gull them with the show
Of Sattin foreparts, Silken halfe-sleeves too.
But let him looke to 't, though his profits be
Great to him selfe, yet his posteritie
Drawn from ye loyns of this broad-spreading tetter,
I'm so resolv'd, will never thrive the better.
Next him the Country Boar comes leering in,
So simple-seeming as he knew no sin;
But he that holds him so 's a simple man,
For he can cheat as well as others can:
Yea he that holds him so let him but try him,
And he will finde himselfe no gainer by him.
He makes a shew, that so his tricks may passe,
That he can hardly tell to Michaelmas,
And so precise, some will not stick to say,
He will not lend his Bull on Saboth Day:
Yet for Oppression, Biting usurie,
Rapine, Extortion, hatefull Simonie,
He scorns that any one should put him downe
In Court, in University, or Towne.
Yet see this Erwig, How he starves himselfe,
For all his substance and injurious pelfe;
The more he has the more he seemes to lack,
Indebted both to Bellie and to Back:
For his hid trash he labours so to smother,
He'l neither feed the one nor cloath the other.
But leave him to himselfe; for such as these
May be compared to Hermocrates,
Who when he saw sad deaths approaching houre,
Did make himself his own Executour;
And being ask'd the reason, did reply,
I got my wealth, who should dispose't but I?
So simple-seeming as he knew no sin;
But he that holds him so 's a simple man,
For he can cheat as well as others can:
Yea he that holds him so let him but try him,
And he will finde himselfe no gainer by him.
He makes a shew, that so his tricks may passe,
That he can hardly tell to Michaelmas,
And so precise, some will not stick to say,
He will not lend his Bull on Saboth Day:
Yet for Oppression, Biting usurie,
Rapine, Extortion, hatefull Simonie,
He scorns that any one should put him downe
In Court, in University, or Towne.
Yet see this Erwig, How he starves himselfe,
For all his substance and injurious pelfe;
The more he has the more he seemes to lack,
Indebted both to Bellie and to Back:
For his hid trash he labours so to smother,
He'l neither feed the one nor cloath the other.
But leave him to himselfe; for such as these
May be compared to Hermocrates,
224
Did make himself his own Executour;
And being ask'd the reason, did reply,
I got my wealth, who should dispose't but I?
But eye me yon Church-Chuffe, how broad he struts,
With thighs and legs ore-pentis'd by his guts!
A formall apish timist, who delights
In fauning on our rising favorites;
Who once profest compassion to the poor,
Bolts charity and pity out of door.
A zeale-pretending halting Laodicean,
Or Mountebank adulterate Physitian,
Who with 's infectious drugs corrupts his sheepe,
And with his leaden-Sermons makes them sleepe.
If a sound Lay-Divine profoundly write,
His worke gets scarce admittance to his sight:
For this spruce-damask-Cassoked Divine,
Will have no books divulged in his time,
But such as relish of his oyle-spent Lampe,
Though like base bulloigne they deserve no stampe.
Thus Ignorance must censure what we doe,
Raze and deface our choicest Labours too:
So as this Ænobarban Bacchanist
For th' Presse is now made sole Monopolist:
For there's no Author without Achans wedge
May ever hope to get his priviledge.
If this be longer suffer'd, I professe
To make my Trunk my Print, my Deske my Presse.
He has confest he counts it as no sin
By th'window to a Living to get in,
For he has presidents of divers men
That doe the like, and he will follow them.
But if he see a vertuous exemple,
It's not so soon admitted to his Temple.
Well, if Oppression, Rapine, Injury,
Equivocation or Church-Simony,
Ambition, Assentation, Insolence,
Licentious life, and loose Non-residence
May under Church-mens copes securely fight,
I vow to God I'le be made Deacon streight;
For there is no Profession in this Nation
Save this, for such crimes may get dispensation.
With thighs and legs ore-pentis'd by his guts!
A formall apish timist, who delights
In fauning on our rising favorites;
Who once profest compassion to the poor,
Bolts charity and pity out of door.
A zeale-pretending halting Laodicean,
Or Mountebank adulterate Physitian,
Who with 's infectious drugs corrupts his sheepe,
And with his leaden-Sermons makes them sleepe.
If a sound Lay-Divine profoundly write,
His worke gets scarce admittance to his sight:
For this spruce-damask-Cassoked Divine,
Will have no books divulged in his time,
But such as relish of his oyle-spent Lampe,
Though like base bulloigne they deserve no stampe.
Thus Ignorance must censure what we doe,
Raze and deface our choicest Labours too:
So as this Ænobarban Bacchanist
For th' Presse is now made sole Monopolist:
For there's no Author without Achans wedge
May ever hope to get his priviledge.
If this be longer suffer'd, I professe
To make my Trunk my Print, my Deske my Presse.
255
By th'window to a Living to get in,
For he has presidents of divers men
That doe the like, and he will follow them.
But if he see a vertuous exemple,
It's not so soon admitted to his Temple.
Well, if Oppression, Rapine, Injury,
Equivocation or Church-Simony,
Ambition, Assentation, Insolence,
Licentious life, and loose Non-residence
May under Church-mens copes securely fight,
I vow to God I'le be made Deacon streight;
For there is no Profession in this Nation
Save this, for such crimes may get dispensation.
Now shield me deare Justinian! who comes here!
O Sir, I know you by the Robes you weare:
That conscript habit cannot shroud your sin,
Unrip your case, Sir, shew me what's within.
Shall I be your Anatomist? I will,
And squeaze your ulcerous corrupted ill.
This Lime-hound hath disparaged the State
By his injurious judgement, and with hate
Of God and all good-men, as well appears,
Grows rich by Orphans cryes and Widows tears.
He may for forme-sake to the Temple goe,
Because he hath no other thing to doe,
But it is only done to take a nap
And thank God for't: he sleeps i'th Churches Lap.
Bribes have so stuff'd his Cushion none can wake him
Till wrath and fury dog and overtake him.
Hee'd hug Astræa if she were a Whoor,
But being pure, he kicks her out a door.
Hee's in such grace, he scorneth opposition,
Conscience hee'l harbour upon no condition.
His chap-fallen chin is shrunk below his Navell,
Yet hugs he gold till's mouth be fill'd with gravell.
He limits his nice Dame, what she shall pay
For this or that, who hopes to see a day
When his corrupted corpse reduc'd to dust
Shall give free scope to her restrained lust.
O Sir, I know you by the Robes you weare:
That conscript habit cannot shroud your sin,
Unrip your case, Sir, shew me what's within.
Shall I be your Anatomist? I will,
And squeaze your ulcerous corrupted ill.
This Lime-hound hath disparaged the State
By his injurious judgement, and with hate
Of God and all good-men, as well appears,
Grows rich by Orphans cryes and Widows tears.
He may for forme-sake to the Temple goe,
Because he hath no other thing to doe,
But it is only done to take a nap
And thank God for't: he sleeps i'th Churches Lap.
Bribes have so stuff'd his Cushion none can wake him
Till wrath and fury dog and overtake him.
256
But being pure, he kicks her out a door.
Hee's in such grace, he scorneth opposition,
Conscience hee'l harbour upon no condition.
His chap-fallen chin is shrunk below his Navell,
Yet hugs he gold till's mouth be fill'd with gravell.
He limits his nice Dame, what she shall pay
For this or that, who hopes to see a day
When his corrupted corpse reduc'd to dust
Shall give free scope to her restrained lust.
But note yon politick State-underminer,
Of Machiavels opinions late refiner;
How he condemns those Apes which went before,
Yet to be censur'd he deserves far more
Then all the rest: For hath not he confest,
And made himself as guilty as the rest?
He taxeth them of opennesse (poor Elfe)
When he incurres like weaknesse in himselfe.
So as I think, whats'ere he seem to know,
Hee's lesse in substance then he is in show.
Tracing the clouds with Aristophanes,
He comes farre short of Aristomanes,
Who strait-immur'd, as stories doe report,
Within a ragged Rock, an aged Fort,
When he with other noble Captains were
In Lacedemon kept close prisoner;
To free them from these unrelenting Rocks,
For shame (quoth he) Let's imitate the Fox,
Who were he here, hee'd gain him libertie,
Let's not come short of him in policie.
No more they did, for digging those rag'd shelves,
Within short time they after freed themselves.
But this State-polititian works his ends,
By making all he treats with his firme friends;
And with pretence of Conscience ties them to him,
Causing thē think he's same man he doth show him:
But I make little doubt, when these have tride him,
But they'l decest him, having once descride him.
“This Ile avouch, and stand to 't when I've done,
“He that is friend to all, is friend to none.
Let him then gull his friends, engrosse his sin,
Till he have no friend left to burie him.
Of Machiavels opinions late refiner;
How he condemns those Apes which went before,
Yet to be censur'd he deserves far more
Then all the rest: For hath not he confest,
And made himself as guilty as the rest?
He taxeth them of opennesse (poor Elfe)
When he incurres like weaknesse in himselfe.
So as I think, whats'ere he seem to know,
Hee's lesse in substance then he is in show.
Tracing the clouds with Aristophanes,
He comes farre short of Aristomanes,
Who strait-immur'd, as stories doe report,
Within a ragged Rock, an aged Fort,
When he with other noble Captains were
In Lacedemon kept close prisoner;
To free them from these unrelenting Rocks,
For shame (quoth he) Let's imitate the Fox,
Who were he here, hee'd gain him libertie,
Let's not come short of him in policie.
257
Within short time they after freed themselves.
But this State-polititian works his ends,
By making all he treats with his firme friends;
And with pretence of Conscience ties them to him,
Causing thē think he's same man he doth show him:
But I make little doubt, when these have tride him,
But they'l decest him, having once descride him.
“This Ile avouch, and stand to 't when I've done,
“He that is friend to all, is friend to none.
Let him then gull his friends, engrosse his sin,
Till he have no friend left to burie him.
But hold sides that ye burst not, luck befall
This Paracelsian Chimick-Urinal!
Who would not laugh to heare him cry, the Stone,
The Stone, the Stone, as if he had just none?
Or that his paine had caus'd him show the madder,
By reason of some gravell in his bladder.
But 'las, poor seered thing, he cannot see
His Chymick-works will ever usefull be.
For though he once presumed on his wits,
To turne Spits, Jacks and brazen Candlesticks
Into pure gold, his muddie braines grow wearie,
“Brazers may use their trade in Lothberrie.
This Cricket now is turn'd a water-caster,
Since which blest time his wealth grows daily faster;
For as he vaunts, where ere he make resort,
Bee't to the City, Country or the Court
He's only priz'd and had in all esteeme,
Yet knowes not what the Rules of Physick meane.
If this be so, it cannot be denide,
Under his hand but many men have dide,
So as no other reason see can I,
But that the Lawe should censure him to die:
An Homicide is hang'd if he kill any,
What sense is't he should live has kild so many?
This Paracelsian Chimick-Urinal!
Who would not laugh to heare him cry, the Stone,
The Stone, the Stone, as if he had just none?
Or that his paine had caus'd him show the madder,
By reason of some gravell in his bladder.
But 'las, poor seered thing, he cannot see
His Chymick-works will ever usefull be.
For though he once presumed on his wits,
To turne Spits, Jacks and brazen Candlesticks
Into pure gold, his muddie braines grow wearie,
“Brazers may use their trade in Lothberrie.
This Cricket now is turn'd a water-caster,
Since which blest time his wealth grows daily faster;
For as he vaunts, where ere he make resort,
Bee't to the City, Country or the Court
He's only priz'd and had in all esteeme,
Yet knowes not what the Rules of Physick meane.
258
Under his hand but many men have dide,
So as no other reason see can I,
But that the Lawe should censure him to die:
An Homicide is hang'd if he kill any,
What sense is't he should live has kild so many?
Thus have these Apes display'd them, so could I
If I my tricks would labour to descry;
But this my feare is, if I should descry them,
By their discovery some might profit by them;
Which would much grieve me, such an one I am,
As I nere wish'd for good to any man:
Yea I may sweare, I know not one alive
That with my heart I could desire to thrive.
But if I might impeach their name; Ide doe it,
Or doe them any harme, Ide quickly show it:
Their imputation is my joy, their hurt
The only pleasant game that makes me sport.
When Timon, my deere friend, once chanc'd to see
A mans wife hanging on a wild-figtree,
O (quoth he) It would Timon highly please
That ev'ry bough brought out such fruit as these;
For then our wives would sing a silent dittie,
And we should need no Cuck-stools in the Cittie!
The like wish I; nor doe I only wish
To woman kinde that heavie doome of his,
For I'm indifferent for sexes both,
This could I never love, and that I loth.
Æsope I hug, and I doe honour him,
Who in a tale brought Memus chafing in;
And in reproofe of nature did proceed,
For setting Bulls-horns rather on his head
Then on his shoulders, being stronger part;
In which respect preferd he curious art
Before the hand of nature: for, quoth hee,
Such over sights in Art Wee seldome see.
His steps I follow, for I tartnesse show
To th'choicest works of art and nature too:
Nothing can please me in this globe of earth
But others woes, whose moans afford me mirth.
If on a learned worke I chance to looke,
Though I've no judgement I can taxe the booke,
And call the Author for his paines a foole,
Yet past two Months I never went to Schoole.
By meanes whereof, and home-bred education,
One taught me th' rules of a Prognostication;
Streight by direction from an Erra pater,
I knew ech distinct Planet and his nature.
Which known, I could not brook my Country well,
But in acquaintance with some Gipsies fell;
Whose chiefest Bung and Captain now I am,
And held in Palmistrie the only man:
Where though I cannot sing the Gipsies song,
I am as merrie as the day is long.
For if a Milk-maid come to me and crave,
Ide tell her when she shall a Husband have;
Or an old Chrone, that I to her would show,
Whether she must out-live her Grub or no;
Hows'ere their fortune be, better or worse,
My dainty-Doxie nims away their purse;
With which we merrie make and bravely rore,
With some stolne Pullen that we have in store.
Truth is, since I kept square with these, I find
My selfe and my affections worse inclin'd
Then ere they were before; nor doe I care,
“They that fare well may reputation spare.
“He must be stain'd, consorts with such as these,
“He that lies downe with dogs must rise with flees.
Thus in each Village I and my ragg'd nation
With canting gibrish doe we make our station;
In Corporations we doe seldome tarrie,
Because of Statutes to the contrarie.
For other Coasts such Officers we find,
That though they see us, yet they will be blind;
For now and then, they'r such kind natur'd men,
They will not stick to eate with us a Hen.
But I repent me, I so much have said,
Lest some that heare me, come to learne my trade.
If I my tricks would labour to descry;
But this my feare is, if I should descry them,
By their discovery some might profit by them;
Which would much grieve me, such an one I am,
As I nere wish'd for good to any man:
Yea I may sweare, I know not one alive
That with my heart I could desire to thrive.
But if I might impeach their name; Ide doe it,
Or doe them any harme, Ide quickly show it:
Their imputation is my joy, their hurt
The only pleasant game that makes me sport.
When Timon, my deere friend, once chanc'd to see
A mans wife hanging on a wild-figtree,
O (quoth he) It would Timon highly please
That ev'ry bough brought out such fruit as these;
For then our wives would sing a silent dittie,
And we should need no Cuck-stools in the Cittie!
The like wish I; nor doe I only wish
To woman kinde that heavie doome of his,
For I'm indifferent for sexes both,
This could I never love, and that I loth.
Æsope I hug, and I doe honour him,
Who in a tale brought Memus chafing in;
259
For setting Bulls-horns rather on his head
Then on his shoulders, being stronger part;
In which respect preferd he curious art
Before the hand of nature: for, quoth hee,
Such over sights in Art Wee seldome see.
His steps I follow, for I tartnesse show
To th'choicest works of art and nature too:
Nothing can please me in this globe of earth
But others woes, whose moans afford me mirth.
If on a learned worke I chance to looke,
Though I've no judgement I can taxe the booke,
And call the Author for his paines a foole,
Yet past two Months I never went to Schoole.
By meanes whereof, and home-bred education,
One taught me th' rules of a Prognostication;
Streight by direction from an Erra pater,
I knew ech distinct Planet and his nature.
Which known, I could not brook my Country well,
But in acquaintance with some Gipsies fell;
Whose chiefest Bung and Captain now I am,
And held in Palmistrie the only man:
Where though I cannot sing the Gipsies song,
I am as merrie as the day is long.
For if a Milk-maid come to me and crave,
Ide tell her when she shall a Husband have;
Or an old Chrone, that I to her would show,
Whether she must out-live her Grub or no;
Hows'ere their fortune be, better or worse,
My dainty-Doxie nims away their purse;
260
With some stolne Pullen that we have in store.
Truth is, since I kept square with these, I find
My selfe and my affections worse inclin'd
Then ere they were before; nor doe I care,
“They that fare well may reputation spare.
“He must be stain'd, consorts with such as these,
“He that lies downe with dogs must rise with flees.
Thus in each Village I and my ragg'd nation
With canting gibrish doe we make our station;
In Corporations we doe seldome tarrie,
Because of Statutes to the contrarie.
For other Coasts such Officers we find,
That though they see us, yet they will be blind;
For now and then, they'r such kind natur'd men,
They will not stick to eate with us a Hen.
But I repent me, I so much have said,
Lest some that heare me, come to learne my trade.
| The honest ghost | |