University of Virginia Library

IHON PARKHVRST, late Bishop of NORWICH.

To the Reader.

Whē reader thou doest read this booke,
With frownyng forhed doe not looke:
For Cato curste, nor Curius,
Nor frownyng sowre Heraclitus,
These are not made: but if thei bende
Their eyes to see what here is pende:
Suche toyes thei shall bee sure to finde
As will refreshe the mest full minde.

To Torpetus.

Thy wife Torpetus brings thee naught:
Thou musest what should let:
Muse not: how cā she bring thee aught
When thou canst naught beget.

An Epitaph vpon the death of a Couetous Miser.

An yearthly wight in yearth,
I studied yearthly thyngs:
Euen like a Moldiwarpe,
to yearth whiche alwaies clings.
Now yearthly bodie myne,
in yearth with wormes doeth bide:
But synfull soule (alas)
to Limbo doune doeth slide.
Waifarer hence departe,
take heede, be warnde by me:
Remember heauenly thyngs,
caste yearthly thyngs from thee.

Of Robin Bartlet fallyng into the handes of Theues.

Bartlet a pleasaunt sconse, whose mirthe
all men did muche delight:
Ridyng towards London on a tyme,
amongest Theues did light.
When thei had robde hym of his coine,
quoth one (among the reste)
My maisters let vs cutte his throte,
for feare we be expreste.
Then Bartlet aunswered pleasauntly,
(naie doe not serue me so)
My maisters if you cutte my throte,
how shall my drinke doune go.
At this the Theues gan laugh apace,
and from hym went their waie:
So sillie Bartlet saude his life,
although his purse did paie.

Against Battus, an euell Singer.

While Battus synges, he would be thought
suche one as well could doe:
So would the birde that Cucko cries:
so would the Nightcrowe to.

To Ihon Foxe.

Sith that thy life is spotlesse pure,
deuoide of fraude and blame:
I maruell why of craftie Foxe,
my Foxe thou hadst the name.

Of an old trot Persephone, and Pyllio a yongster.

Persephone a beldame, hath
an house wherein to dwell:
Yong Pyllio needs must marrie her,
he saies he loues her well.
Now Pyllio she doeth like of life,
and he doeth set greate store
By her faire house: what weds he her?
no sure: her house therefore.

To Marcellinus.

Sometyme thou wilt haue wealthe
to vse: and sometyme not.
Sure either thou art to muche wise,
or els to muche a sot.

Against Bossus, a Prieste

We must not touche a woman, we,
thus Bossus still doeth saie:
We must continually (saieth he)
serue God bothe night and daie.
But Bossus by his leaue doeth lye:
thei touche and touche againe;
Or els so many baldpate priests,
could neuer sires remaine.

Of Lupercus.

A fruitfull wenche God sende me, saied
Lupercus when I wedde:
I hate (saied he) these barren dames,
that neuer will be spedde.
He married Frances at the last,
and so he had his praier:
The next daie after thei were linkt,
she brought hym for the a paire.

Of Molzus that caste his wife into the Sea.

What tyme a troublous tempest rose,
and tost the tumblyng Seas:
Eche one threwe in his heuiest stuffe,
the loaded barke to ease.
But Molzus (one emong the rest)
caste in his wife, and saied,
Naught heauier then askoldyng wife,
I deme there can be waied.

Of Lollus and Cæciliana, man and wife.

Seldome doth Lollus dyne at home,
and not against his will:
And that he seld may dine at home,
Cæcilian wisheth still.
Seldome doth Lollus sup at home,
and not against his will:
And that he seld may sup at home,
Cæcilian wisheth still.
Seldome doth Lollus sleepe at home,
and not against his will:
And that he seld may sleepe at home,
Cæcilian wisheth still.
Seldome speakes Lollus with his wife,
and not against his will:
And that he may but seldome speake,
Cæcilian wisheth still.
Seldome doth Lollus kisse his wife,
and not against his will:
And that he may but seld her kisse,
Cæcilian wisheth still.
Seldome lyes Lollus with his wife,
and not against his will:
And that he may seld lye with her,
Cæcilian wisheth still.
Lollus doth loue anothers wife,
and not against his will:
And for to haue another man
Cæcilian wisheth still.
O what a passyng concord is,
betwene this man and wife?
What so the one of them doth loue,
the other likes of life.

To Sixtus.

A fair wife thou hast married, this
doth please thee Sixtus well:
A shrew thou married hast, doth this
well please the Sixtus, tell?

Of a certain Duke, and Robin Bartlet.

A certen Duke with Bartlet chafte,
said, leaue you knaue to scoffe
And mend your manners, or I sweare,
thy head shalbe cut of.
Quoth Bartlet, God forbid, that were
to me vnhappie hap:
If that my head were gone (quoth he)
where should I set my cap.
At this the Duke gan laugh a pace,
and set his hart at rest:
Thus all the broile and anger great,
was turned to a Iest.

To Alexander Nowell.

Great Alexander all the world
did in subiection bringe:
Rude barbarous people thou dost tame:
thou dost a greater thing.

To Candidus.

Poore Proclus Martha tooke to wife,
of lofty Linnage hie:
She was not Candidus his wife,
but mistres his perdie.

Of certaine faire maydens plaiyng with Snowe.

You virgins fairer then the Snowe
wherwith you sport and play:
The Snowe is white, and you are bright,
now marke what I shall say.
The Snowe betwene your fingers fades
and melteth quight away:
So glisteryng gleames of bewties blaze
in time shall sone decay.

To Hallus.

Hallus thine aking tooth makes thee
that thou canst rest no night:
With good tongue (Hallus) licke thy tooth
and paine will vanishe quight.

In quendam.

Thou likst ill men, ill men thee laude.
so Mules of mules are scrapt and clawd.

To a certayne Draper.

Men many Draper deeme,
thou dost abound with stoore:
Thy Nose is precious, full of pearles,
Draper, canst thou bee poore?

Against Bossus.

All Preists must gelded be,
thus saist thou Bossus still:
They must be gelded sure thou saist,
the scripture so doth will.
If Bossus thou hadst gealt thy selfe,
and stones of thine cut out:
So many basterd brats of thine,
had not bene borne about.

Of Attus.

If Attus face thou doe beholde,
a good man he will seeme:
But if thou doe beholde the rest,
ill then thou wilt him deeme.

To papisticall Prelats.

Why doubt you dottrell priests as yet,
chaste honest wiues to wedde?
Wedlocke is good, and pleaseth God,
adulterie must be fledde.

Of the Lady Iane Gray.

Doest muse with skill of Grecian tongue,

Graia beyng her surname in Laten, signifieth a Grecian.

how Ladie Iane was fraight?
As sone as euer she wan borne,
she was a Grecian straite.

Against Colte, a coltish Preist.

Sith Colt thou plaiest the Colt, to kisse,
before the face of men:
When no man sees thee Colt (I muse)
the Colt how plaiest thou then?

Of Holus a Souldier beyng lame.

Of Holus I did aske, wherefore,
limpyng to warre he went:
Tushe aunswerde he, though lims be lame,
my mynde to fight is bent.

To Ihon Gibbon.

Dissolue this darke Ænigme,
my Gibbon if you can:
You shalbe reckned Oedipus,
a cunnyng skilfull man.
This is my riddle darke:
no Woulues in Englande are,
Yet Englande harboures store of Woulues:
how can this be declare?

Against Alanus.

Thou louest Doggs,
Doggs doest thou feede:
But thou doest hate
thy wife in deede.
Thou chidest her,
her doest thou beate:
Her thou doest spurne,
her thou doest threate:
And still with her
thou art at strife:
Better to be
thy Dog then wife.

Of Diogenes.

Quoth one vnto Diogenes,
what shall I giue to thee
And let me giue thy hedde a boxe:
an helmet aunswered he.

Against Fridolinus.

A chast life best besemes a priest,
thou Fridolin doest saie:
But whence hast thou thy ladds and girls,
now Fridolin bewraie?

Of Robin Bartlet, fainyng hymself deafe to get lodgyng, beyng on a tyme benighted.

When doune Dan Phebus gan to ducke,
and shroude hym in the West:
When darksome night approched fast,
and all did silent rest.
When Æolus kyng with puffed chekes,
gan blowe and bluster fearce:
When dashyng showers doune dingyng fast
bothe man and beast did pearce.
When firie flakes, and lightnyng leames,
gan flashe from out the skies:
When stiffe, strōg, struglyng, sturdie storms,
began for to arise.
All in this hurly burly greate,
it chaunced so perdie:
That merrie Bartlet was abroade,
deuoyde of companie.
In ridyng he had lost his waie,
in greate distresse was he:
For postyng here and there, he could
no toune nor village se.
But he that lookes at last shall finde,
so he by Fortune sawe
At laste a simple cottage poore,
all homely thatcht with Strawe.
His hands he heaues to heauen on high,
and thankes with harte and voyce
His God that gaue hym this good hap,
and greatly did reioyce.
He commeth to this cabbin course,
and knocketh at the doore:
And straite with humble sute and mone,
for helpe he doeth implore.
If any wife dwell here (quoth he)
that honestie doeth loue:
Let this my piteous percyng plaint,
her mynde to mercie moue.
Then loe the goodwife of the house,
(whose name did Florence hight)
Came to the doore, and spake vnto
poore Barrlet wofull wight.
Awaie quoth she, what ere thou be,
be sure thou comst not here:
So late thou wandrest in the night,
thou art a theef I feare.
Be packyng while your bone be whole:
I thanke you Bartlet saied:
(And faind hym self for to be deafe)
I thanke you for your aide.
Maie horse of myne haue roume (quoth he)
here likewise to remaine?
No no quoth she: I thanke you sure,
saied Bartlet here againe,
And went to Stable with his horse:
at last he did her win
(By thankes and gentle wordes) to ope
the dore, and let him in.
All that same night he snortyng slept,
fast by the fier side:
And all his garments sowst with raine,
by smokyng fier he dride.
When faire Aurora at the last,
began for to appeare:
And bright Apollo with his beames,
began to glister cleare.
Dame Florence starteth vp from bed,
and sone she slippeth on
Her petticote: and fetchyng wood,
she maketh fire anone,
She deeming Bartlet fast a sleepe,
eke deaf, a fart let flee:
God morrow dame (quoth Bartlet straight)
what speake you vnto mee?
Quoth Florence what? and can you heare?
now sure I Ioy therfore:
I see my taile hath made you heare,
whiche could not heare before.

Of Cælia, and her sonne, now redie to dye.

When Cælia (sad and sorrowfull)
her sonne sore sicke did see:
Now when his breath began to faile,
with blubberyng teares said she
O my sweet sonne, ere life be donne,
speake one sweet word to mee:
But one sweet woord, my sweet sweet sonne,
I doe request of thee:
The sonne now giuyng vp the ghost,
as breath away gan passe:
Cried, honny, honny, mother mine,
(sweet hony) ah alas.
And soundyng so these sugred woords,
he dyed by and by:
And cherefull thus vnto the heauens,
his soule soard swift on hye.

Of Editha, trauelyng in child-bed.

When as a new borne blessed babe,
Editha foorth had brought:
The women sayd he was as like,
his sire as might be thought.
What is his crowne balde (bare of heare)
I pray you show, said she:
And thus Editha signified,
a Preist the sire to be.

Of a certaine Bishop, and his foole Philibert.

A certen Prelat kept a foole,
to make hym game and sport:
This foole hight Philibert: his lord
did loue him in suche sort
That he would let hym lye with hym,
in bed whereas he lay:
Not side by side, but at his feet
this foole did couche alway.
One night the Bishop had his trull,
in bed with him to lye:
The foole was waking, and by hap,
fower leggs he felt hym by:
Ho maister (quoth the foole) I feele
fower leggs: whose be they, thyne?
Yea (quoth his master) Philibert
those leggs they all be mine.
Then Philibert straight startyng vp,
vnto the windowe hyes.
And (puttyng out his noddyes nole)
with Stentors voyce he cries
Monstrum horrendum come and see,
all men, both yong and old:
My master that had twoo feet erst
Hath fower now to beholde.

Against Claudia.

A Virgin thou wilt called be,
a virgin counted eake:
And still in praise of virgins pure,
still Claudia thou dost speake:
But why dost thou praise virgins so:
thy selfe no virgin art:
For thou didst bear a virgin late,
which was no virgins part.

To a certaine frend.

A Kerchef thou dost weare: head ache
doth not torment thee rife:
Nor sicknes: surely thou hast felt,
the Distaffe of thy wife.

Of an egregious drunkard.

A Drunkard greate did fall into
a feruent feuer sore:
Whereby he felt a greater thirst,
then earst he did before.
He sendeth for Phisitions straite:
vnto hym thei doe giue
Bothe for to cure his feuer, and
his thirst awaie to driue.
To whom the pained partie spake:
Phisitions, onely see
That you my feuer cure, my thirst
leaue that to cure for me.

To certaine proude Papisticall persones.

Some men doe call you holie men:
and some againe doe chuse
To call you Fathers: glad are you
when thei suche titles vse.
But holie I can not you call,
whiche holinesse disdaine:
But fathers I maie call you well,
for brats you get amaine.

To Pope Paulus. 2.

Thou needst not Rome for to request,
of Paul his stones to showe:
He hath begot a daughter la te,
he is a man I trowe.

Of Pope Ione the 8. and of the maner of makyng the Pope.

Pope Ione in mannes apparell went,
and faind her self a manne:
And by this straunge disguisyng, she
at last the Popedome wanne.
At last she plaied a piuishe part,
and let her seruaunt ride
In saddle hers: she trauailed,
brought forthe her child, and died.
When as the Carnals (Cardinalls
I would saie if I could)
When thei perceiude this filthy facte,
thei all agreed none should
Be Pope created after that,
vnlesse he had his stones:
Thei would not haue ye Popedome staynde,
with any more Pope Iones.
But now adaies at Rome we see,
this custome waxeth colde:
What is the cause thei grope not now,
as thei were wont of olde?
The cause is, now thei knowe before,
that thei are men in deede:
For now in euery corner swarme
their whores, and bastarde breede.

Of Lucretia whiche was daughter and wife to Pope Alex. 6.

What makest thou Lucretia,
with chast Lucretias name?
Thou art an other Thais, thou,
an other Lais dame.

Of Nodosius, a Papist.

At pointed seasons still,
Nodosius doeth refraine
From eatyng fleshe: and yet from fleshe,
no daie he doeth abstaine.
Doest aske how this maie be?
I will explane the case:
Dedde fleshe mislikes Nodosius, but
liue fleshe he doeth embrace.

Of a certaine yongman, and a toothlesse sire.

A yongman and an aged sire.
at Tauerne drinkyng sate:
At last (well whitled bothe with wine)
thei fell at greate debate.
And striude aboute a thyng of nought:
the yongman all in yre
Burst out and saied, turde in thy teeth,
old crooked crabbed sire.
The old man pleasauntly replide:
turde in his teeth (quoth he)
That hath teeth: I haue none at all,
beholde, and thou shalt se.
And so he shewed his naked gummes,
where no teeth did remaine:
And thus the strife and greate debate,
did ceasse betwene them twaine.

To a proude princox.

Why art thou proude? stoute poutyng pride
from heauenly ioyes on hie
Doune hedlong tumbled Lucifer,
in Limbo lowe to lie.

To Pigmenius.

Thou wealthie hast bothe house and lande,
Eke thou the Lawe doest vnderstande.
By hooke and crooke thou catchest still,
In cusnyng craft thou hast greate skill.
Thy fingers to can filche full faste,
(For all these) yet no coine thou haste.
How commeth it to passe wouldst knowe?
The speckled bones ofte thou doest throwe.

Of Cotilus a Priest.

No maydes loues Cotilus: old wiues
he loues (as all may see)
What is ye cause? maides bring foorth brats,
old wiues still barren be.

Against Huberdine, an old dottrell and peuish Preacher.

Who preacheth naught but triflyng toyes,
vnto the people still:
A pratyng preacher may be calde,
deuoyde of wit and skill.

To Ruffina. He playeth the woer for a frend of his, of person as pretty as a Pigmey.

Dispise not this thy suter small,
that loues thee as his life:
And thee desires Ruffina faire,
to be his spouse and wife.
In bodies deft of dapper Dicks
great vertue ofte doth dwell:
Perchaunce in bed thou shalt hym proue
a man, I can not tell.

Of the vnsatiable couetousnes of this worlde.

A golden great vngodly world,
this may be counted well:
Each man loues gold: but godlines,
who loues I can not tell.

To Pontiana, a mayd so called.

Snowe helde vnto the fire doeth melt,
and ceasseth Snowe to bee:
So Pontiana perishe those,
that burne in loue with thee.

To Claudia.

Of late thine heares were black, but now
thei shine, gold like vnto:
With any Painter fine of late,
tell, haddest thou to doe?

Of Antonina.

In bosome hers, a dapper Dogge,
still Antonina beares:
She lulles hym, culles hym, louyngly
she luggs hym by the eares.
She would not misse her fistyng curre,
for any thyng: and why?
Forsothe when so she letts a scape,
she cries me, fie curre, fie.

To Ihon Cullier.

Like dombe dog Hennus neuer barkes,
all preachyng he doeth shunne:
And yet thou saiest his dutie still,
by hym is duely doon.
He drinks, he hunts, he hunteth whores,
he smacks: how saiest thou? tell?
Doeth he his duetie due? doeth he
performe his function well?

Of Glaurus an old dotyng Priest.

Glaurus is crooked, all for age:
he still prepares to dye:
Yet Glaurus hath a prettie wench,
at home with hym to lye.

To Hermannus Mennus.

Of Clytus.

On Saterdaie no fleshe,
will Clytus eate perdie:
But for to steale an horse,
on Sunday he will hie.

This Monostichon here followyng, was written vpon the gate of the Monestarie of the Benedictines, or blacke Monkes.

Hic intret nullus, nisi pullus sit sibi Cullus.
No maner wight, shall enter here:
Unlesse blacke hoode on backe he beare.
Barbara vox Cullus: pro qua ponēda Latina est
Et poterit carmen forsitan esse bonum.
Cullus is sure a barbarous woorde,
skant Latine for an whood:
To Culus Cullus therefore chaunge,
so maie the verse be good.
Hic intret nullus, nisi pullus sit sibi Culus.
No maner wight shall enter here:
Unlesse he blacke be, you wot where.

Of the aunswere of a foole to a certaine Duke.

Vnto the pallace of the Poope,
there came a Duke of late:
The Popes foole chaunst to mete the Duke
before the pallace gate:
Where is thy master quoth the Duke?
not farre the foole gan saie:
For but euen verie now his grace,
was with his whore at plaie.

Of Rob. Bartlet, and of one that had a foule byg nose, and a precious (as they terme it.)

By fortune merry Bartlet saw
a man with monstrous Nose:
Beset with Rubies riche: his minde
thus Bartlet gan disclose.
Goodfellow, frend, (quoth Bartlet) when
wast thou with goldsmith tell?
The other musing stayd, and knew
not what to aunswere well.
I aske (quoth Bartlet) for because
he cosened thee I see:
He for a golden nose hath giuen
a copper nose to thee.

The Louer.

Who more a wretch then he
whom loue tormenteth sore?
With scorchyng heate of Cupids coales
he burneth euermore.

Of Loue.

Loue is for to be liked, if
both loue (so as they ought)
But where one loues, the other lothes,
there loue is vile and nought.

To Hordenus.

I marrige mind: thou mockest mee
as muche as may be thought.
If whores I both should hunt and haunt
what wouldst thou then say? nought.

Of Alphus.

No egge on friday Alphe will eate,
but drunken he will be
On friday still: O what a pure
religious man is he.

Of him that is in debt.

Who owes much mony, still
he shunns all company:
And is like to an owle
That in the night doth flye.

To Ponticus.

Dost aske why (Ponticus) I call
thee not to supper mine.
The cause is this: thou calst mee not
hog Ponticus to thyne.

To Minsiger.

As poore as Irus once thou wast,
but now thou dost abound
With wealth and store: by marriage thyne,
great plenty hast thou found.
But now thy wife is dead, thy coyne
thou lashest out amayne:
Spare Minsiger lest thou become
as Irus poore againe.

Of Squyre, an old man flewmatike.

Squyre seld or neuer Oysters buyes,
Squyre eate no oysters will:
Yet notwithstandyng Squyre spits out
and spawleth oysters still.

Of Cotta.

An whore hath Cotta to his wife,
he knowes it, and he sayes:
One Lampe sufficient is to light
ten men and ten alwayes.

N. Noman To B. Bonner.

All men a noughty Bishop did thee call:
I say thou wast the best of Bishops all.

To a certaine Papist.

It ill beseemeth preistes to wed
thus Papist thou dost say:
What well beseemes them (then declare)
with whores to sport and play?

To a wife, whiche set a pot full of flowers in her windowe.

To make a fragrant sauour sweet,
in windowe thou dost set
Freshe flowers, and for to make them grow,
thou stinkyng mier dost get:
Wife, cast the mier away, or herbs,
or both I thee desire:
The flowers they doe not smell so well,
as ill doth stinke the mire.

Of a counterfet Diuell.

Blastus a cunnyng Painter, (that
Apelles past in skill:)
Did paint the Diuell in this wise,
in forme and fashion ill.
Monstrous, deformed to beholde,
fierce, blacke, and horrible:
Dauntyng the harts of men with dread,
and feare moste terrible.
His eyes did shine like sparklyng fire,
all brode and blasing bright:
His snout was stretched forth, his taile
was long, and blacke to sight.
His chappes were great, and galping wide,
all ready to deuoure:
With long doune dangling iagged beard,
he looked grim and sower.
His hornes were like vnto the Moone,
that glisters in the night:
His pawes were like fell Harpeyes pawes,
that scratch and teare out quight.
In right hand stones he clinched fast,
in lefte he held a booke:
And eake a payr of beades he had,
whereon to praie and looke.
His outwarde garments all were blacke,
euen suche they were to eye
As mopishe Monkes, and foolish Friers,
did weare most commonly.
A Monke came by (by chaunce) and sawe
the Picture set to showe:
Ho where is Blastus saide the Monke?
is he at home or no?
Ymarry Blastus answered,
what is your will with me?
The Diuelles picture will you buy?
perchaunce I will said he.
But tell mee Blastus said the Monke,
why is he made so fell?
I like hym not in some respectes,
in some yet woondrous well.
Wherefore now breefly Blastus show
(in fewe declare to mee)
Why thou hast made hym in suche sort,
as here I doe hym see?
Then Blastus answered (and said)
if that you doe not knowe
The causes why I made him thus,
the causes I will showe.
Well (quoth the Monke) then tell mee first,
why didst thou make hym blacke?
Quoth Blastus, for because that he,
doth faire conditions lacke.
Quoth Monke, why is his beard vnkemd,
and danglyng downe so lowe?
Quoth Blastus, for because he was,
an Hermit long ago.
Why quoth the Monke hath he a tayle?
he moues to Lechery:
Why hath he crooked cruell clawes?
he loues to catche perdie.
Why in his right hand holds he stones?
with stones Christ tempted he:
What booke in lefte hand doth he hold?
Popes holy lawes they be.
Why are suche hornes fixt on his front?
like Moses he in this:
(Yet godly Moses he doth hate,
this sure and certen is.)
Why is he picturde like a Monke?
he monkery did deuise:
Monkes mischeuous he first brought foorth,
and noughtie Nonnes likewise.
The Monke no longer now forebeares,
but for a cudgell feeles:
And Blastus to auoide the blowes,
straight takes hym to his heeles.
The pursie Monke pursues him fast,
and takes him by the heare:
And all to thumpes him with his fiste,
his nailes his face doth teare.
Better prouoke the fend hymself,
then monke that ragyng raues:
Poore Blastus did not know that Monkes,
were vile and testie knaues.

An Epitaphe vpon the death of Kyng Edvvard the 6.

When EDVVARD prince most excellent,
fell cankered death did kill:
When God did giue him place in heauen,
with Saincts to soiourne still,
Good Kyng Iosias came to hym,
and did him fast embrace:
And said, ah welcome brother mine
to happy heauenly place.

Of Lydia.

Seuen yeares was Lydia linkt, and liude
with husband hers in deede:
And all the while poore Lydia lackt
and could no children breed.
She of Phisitions counsell askt,
their medcines wrought but dull:
Of Bossus preist she counsell askt,
and straightway she was full.

To Florianus.

Thy first wife (still thou saist)
brought thee no childe at all:
But sure (thou sayst) thy second wife,
brought thee a prettie squaule.
Indeed, a brat she did thee bring,
yet none she did bring thee:
For it it named thine to be,
and yet thine not to be.

To Hærillus.

No worke Hærillus doth, and yet
he labours euermore:
How labours he? euen of the gowte.
whiche doth torment hym sore.

Of Hassus.

I did demaund of Hassus, how
his wife (sore sicke) did fare:
She will come shortly well abroade
(quoth he) I take no care.
Now (sure) who would not Hassus deeme,
a Prophet true to be?
The next day after (on a Beare)
stone dead brought foorth was she.

Of Furnus a Cuckold.

Men say that Furnus iealowes, is
as quick as Linx of sight:
And oftentymes he vseth eyes
of glasse, clere glistering bright.
Now sith that Furnus hath foure eyes,
and well decerneth still:
It makes mee muse and maruaile much
why still hee sees so ill.
His wife is wicked, wanton still:
whiche he doth neuer see:
Foole Furnus doth not see so well,
but sure as ill sees hee.

Of Pope Innocent. 8.

Eyght boyes Pope Nocent did beget,
as many maides in all:
O Rome, most iustly maist thou sure
this Pope a father call.

Of Alexander 6. and his daughter Lucretia.

No gelding Alexander was:
now dost thou aske mee why?
Lewd Lucrece was his daughter, and
his wife with him to lye.

Against Claudia.

Two kisses Bossus askt of thee,
when I in prensence was:
(He would haue geuen mony to)
of him thou didst not passe.
Thou giuste no kisses openly,
close thou dost kisse amayne:
Of kisses thou to sparing art,
to lauishe eke againe.

To Dauid Whitehed.

Vnto mee Willobey doth write,
that Podagra the gowt
Doth paine thee still: but Chiragra
doth payne thee out of dout.
The first remaineth in the feet,
the second in the fiste:
Thou canst not write to mee but go
well canst thou, if thou list.

To Leopoldus.

I haue thee promisde muche, thou saist:
what now declare to mee?
What I haue promisd I will giue:
I nothing promisde thee.

Against Gaspus, whiche with one draught of wine or ale would be made drunke.

Gaspus, if thou wilt not be drunke
then marke what I shall say:
When as thou drinkest, drinke thou of
an empty cup alway.

Against Colt a Preist.

Those that deeme Colt hath nothing done,
they greatly are beguild:
He hath done somwhat, he hath plaid
the colt, and got a child.

To the Reader.

If so but six good Epigrams,
in all my booke there be:
Then all is not pild paultrie stuffe,
whiche reader thou doost see.
But if six good thou do not finde,
refuse then all the rest:
And let them serue to wipe thy tayle
if so thou thinke it best.

To the Reader.

Sufficient now, nay to to muche
I trifled haue with thee:
Farewell good reader: here an end:
no more Ile troublous be.