University of Virginia Library

EPIGRAMS.

Proœmium. 1.

As in the greatest of societies,
The first beginners, like good natur'd soules,
Beare with their neighbors poore infirmities:
But after, when ambition controules
Theyr calme proceedings, they imperiously
“(As great things still orewhelme thēselues with weight)
Enuy their countrimens prosperity,
And in contempt of poorer fates delight.
So Englands wits (now mounted the full height,)
Hauing confounded monstrous barbarismes,
Puft vp by conquest, with selfe-wounding spight,
Engraue themselues in ciuill warres Abismes,
Seeking by all meanes to destroy each other,
The vnhappy children of so deere a mother.

To the Reader. 2.

Whose hap shall be to reade these pedler rimes,
Let them expect no elaborat foolery,
Such as Hermaphroditize these poore times,
With wicked scald iests, extreame gullerie:
Bunglers stande long in tinck'ring their trim Say,
Ile onely spit my venome, and away.

Of Titus. 3.

Titus oft vaunts his gentry euery where,
Blazoning his coate, deriuing's pedegree;
What needest thou daily Titus iade mine eare?
I will beleeue thy houses auncestry;
If that be auncient which we doe forget,
Thy gentry is so; none can remember it.

To Liuia. 4.

Liuia, I kon thee thanke, when thou doost kisse
Thou turn'st thy cheeke: see what good nature is!
For well thou knowst thy breaths infection,
Able to turne my stomack vpside downe.
Which when I thinke on, but for manners sake,
I'ld pray thee thy cheeke too away to take.

Of Matho. 5.

Matho in credite bound to pay a debt,
His word engagde him for, doth still replie,
That he will aunswere it with sophistrie,
And so deferres daily to aunswere it:
Experience now hath taught me sophistrie,
He gaue me his word; that is, he coussend me.

Of Faber. 6.

Since marriage, Faber's prouder then before,
Yfayth his wife must take him a hole lower.

Of a railing humour. 7.

(Good Lord) that men should haue such kennel wits
To thinke so well of a scald railing vaine,
Which soone is vented in beslauered writs.
As when the cholicke in the gutts doth straine,
With ciuill conflicts in the same embrac't,
But let a fart, and then the worst is past.

To Deloney. 8.

Like to the fatall ominous Rauen which tolls,
The sicke mans dirge within his hollow beake,
So euery paper-clothed post in Poules,
To thee (Deloney) mourningly doth speake,
And tells thee of thy hempen tragedie,
The wracks of hungry Tyburne naught to thine.
Such massacre's made of thy balladry,
And thou in griefe, for woe thereof maist pine:
At euery streets end Fuscus rimes are read,
And thine in silence must be buried.

Of Paule. 9.

Paule daily wrongs me, yet he daily sweares
He wisheth me as well as to his soule:
I know his drift, to damne that he naught cares
To please his body: therefore (good friend Paule)
If thy kind nature will affoord me grace,
Heereafter loue me in thy bodies place.

Of Syluio. 10.

Syluio the Lawyer, hunting for the fame
Of a wise man, studies Phylosophie,
And odly in his singularitie,
From being odde, thinks wisedome hath her name.
So long hath he turnde ouer Scaliger,
Old Cardan and the other chimick wits,
Which haue to after-times demisde their writs,
That a fift Element he doth auerre:
Deserues not he to make the wise men euen,
Who odly thus makes odd the Nerues of heauen?

To Gue. 11.

Gue, hang thy selfe for woe, since gentlemen
Are now growne cunning in thy apishnes:
Nay, for they labour with their foolishnes
Thee to vndoe, procure to hang them then:
It is a strange seeld seene vncharitie,
To make fooles of themselues to hinder thee.

Of Cotta. 12.

Behold a wonder, neuer seene before,
Yonder's Cotta's picture, dauncing trenchmore.

Of the same. 13.

I saw not Cotta thys halfe yeere before,
When he was angry that I spoke not to him,
He hath no reason to take it so sore,
Being so painted that I did not know him.

To Licus. 14.

Licus, thou often tell'st me iestingly,
I am a fine man, and so tyrannously
Hast thou now tired that phrase, that euery one
Is a fine man in thine opinion:
In thine opinion? no it's but thy word,
Which doth that fine addition affoord:
And yet I see no cause but many may,
Be euen as fine as Licus euery way;
In dauncing, vaulting, and in riming too,
In theyr conceits there are as good as you.
Then wherein is't that you so farre surpasse
Other plaine iades, like Lucius golden Asse?
I heare thee say the foulest day that is,
Thou art shodde in Veluet, and in Naples bisse:
Nay then I yeeld, for who will striue in it,
May haue fine clothes, but a most filthy wit.

Of Zeno. 15.

Zeno desirous of the idle fame
Of Stoicke resolution, recklesly
Seemes to esteeme of good report or blame;
So prouing himselfe dull, most foolishly,
To euery thing he heares, he saith he cares not:
He cares not for his booke, nor yet for wit,
For pleasant catch-fooles in like sort he spares not
To sweare hee's carelesse, carelesse to forget
Or thinke vpon his dutie, soules comfort;
Carelesse to thriue, or liue in decencie;
Carelesse of vertuous, and a good consort,
Carelesse of wisedome, and of honestie;
To all this carelesnes, should one declare
His fathers death, I am sure he would not care.

Of Riuus. 16.

Once Riuus saw a pretty lasse,
And liquorous tooth'd desir'd to tast,
But knowing not how to bring't to passe,
He vow'd to hange himselfe in hast:
I feard him not, the wench was gone,
And he was loth to hang alone.

Of Clodius. 17.

Clodius oft sayth he hath chaleng'd beene by many,
But neuer tells me he hath answered any.

Of Curio. 18.

Curio threats my death in an Epigrame,
Yfayth hee'le eate his word, he is too blame,
And yet I think hee'le write; then ware of bleeding,
Nay feare not, he writes nothing worth the reading.

Of Faustus. 19.

Faustus in steede of grace, saith Fuscus rimes,
Oh gracelesse manners! oh vnhallowed times!

To Candidus. 20.

Friend Candidus, thou often doost demaund,
What humours men by gulling vnderstand:
Our English Martiall hath full pleasantly,
In his close nips describde a gull to thee:
I'le follow him, and set downe my conceit
VVhat a Gull is: oh word of much receit!
He is a gull, whose indiscretion,
Cracks his purse strings to be in fashion;
He is a gull, who is long in taking roote
In barraine soyle, where can be but small fruite:
He is a gull, who runnes himselfe in debt,
For twelue dayes wonder, hoping so to get;
He is a gull, whose conscience is a block,
Not to take interest, but wastes his stock:
He is a gull, who cannot haue a whore,
But brags how much he spends vpon her score:
He is a gull, that for commoditie
Payes tenne times ten, and sells the same for three:
He is a gull, who passing finicall,
Peiseth each word to be thetoricall:
And to conclude, who selfe conceitedly,
Thinkes al men guls, ther's none more gull then he.

Of Procus. 21.

Procus insteede of more fitting discourse
To entertaine his Mistris eares withall,
Tells her a long tale of a rosted horse,
Of a great brabble did to him befall;
When she demaunds the occasion of the braule,
He in a gallant brauery, gull-like swore,
The reason that he foorth with him did fall,
Was, for the other grutcht him of his whore:
(Ye who doe loue your loues better conceit,)
Iudge if this gull deserued his mistris fauour,
Who thus his goatish humours did relate:
Or what paine wish you for this rude behauiour?
Whomsoe're he marries may she a whore proue,
For this speech shewes that he a whore doth loue.

To Clodius. 22.

I prethee Clodius, tell me what's the reason,
Thou doost expect I should salute thee first,
I haue sized in Cambridge, and my friends a season
Some exhibition for me there disburst:
Since that, I haue beene in Goad his weekly role,
And beene acquaint with Mounsieur Littleton,
I haue walkt in Poules, and duly din'd at noone,
And sometimes visited the dauncing schoole:
Then how art thou my better, that I should
Speake alwaies first, as I incroch faine would?
But in a whore-house thou canst swagger too,
Clodius good day; tis more then I can doo.

Of Sextilius. 23.

Sextilius sigh'd, for Leuca let a fart,
Hath not the youth a meruailous kind hart?

Of Fuscus. 24.

When Fuscus first had taught his Muse to scold,
He gloried in her rugged vaine so much,
That euery one came to him, heare her should,
First Uictor, then Cinna, nor did he grutch
To let both players, and artificers,
Deale with his darling, as if confident,
None of all these he did repute for Lechers,
Or thought her face would all such lusts preuent:
But how can he a bawdes surname refuse,
Who to all sorts thus prostitutes his Muse?

Of Gnatho. 25.

My Lord most court-like lyes in bed till noone,
Then, all high-stomackt riseth to his dinner,
Falls straight to Dice, before his meate be downe,
Or to disgest, walks to some femall sinner.
Perhaps fore-tyrde he gets him to a play,
Comes home to supper, and then falls to dice,
There his deuotion wakes till it be day,
And so to bed, where vntill noone he lies.
This is a Lords life, simple folke will sing.
A Lords life? what to trot so foule a ring?
Yet thus he liues, and what's the greatest griefe,
Gnatho still sweares he leads true vertues life.

To Pollio. 26.

Th' art a fine fellow trust me Pollio,
And euery one reputes thee so to be,
Both for thy ingles face, and goodly show,
Of thyne apparraile and thy naperie:
Then, for thou pertly knowes to wagge thy head,
Like some old palsey-strucken vsurer,
Chiefely, for that this Christmas thou hast led
An vnthrifts life, (gramercy Creditor,)
But for this last thou must be faine to goe,
Into the country for a yeere or two.

Of the same. 27.

Pollio at length's fallne in my good conceit,
Not for his wanton face and curled haire,
Nor his fatte buttocke, nor that I delight
In his french Galliard, which is nothing rare,
Nor for that others thinke him to be so,
(For others credits cannot better me,)
But for he thinks himselfe a fine fellow,
For his owne state who better knowes then hee?

Of Zeno. 28.

Zeno would faine th' old widdow Æagle haue,
Trust me hee's wise, for shee is rich and braue:
But Zeno, Zeno, shee will none of you,
In my mind shee's the wiser of the two.

Of Arion. 29.

Arions thoughts are growne so musicall,
That all his talke's of crotchets, and of quauers:
His very words to sembriefe time doe fall,
And blowing of his nose of musicke sauours:
Hee'le tell you of well fretting of a Lute,
Euen til you fret, and of the harmonie,
Is either in a still Cornet or Flute,
Of rests, and stops, and such like trumperie,
Yet loues he more, for all sweet musick sence,
His mistris belly, then these instruments.

Of Chrysogonus. 30.

Chrysogonus each morning by his glasse,
Teacheth a wrinckled action to his face,
And with the same he runnes into the street,
Each one to put in feare that he doth meet:
I prythee tell me (gentle Chrysogone)
What needs a borrowed bad face to thine owne?

Of Torques. 31.

Torques a Knight, and of indifferent liuing,
Is neyther free of house-keeping, nor giuing:
Yet stands he in the Debet booke vncrost:
Wonder not man, he keepes a whore to his cost.

Of Lais. 32.

Wanton young Lais hath a pretty note,
Whose burthen is, pinch not my petticoate:
Not that she feares close nips, for by the rood,
A priuy pleasing nip will cheare her blood:
But she which longs to tast of pleasures cup,
In nipping would her petticoate weare vp.

Of Fidens. 33.

Fidens instructs young Gentlemen to play,
Who teach his wife, they get true fingring:
But she learnes to play false; no meruaile, they
Of a Maister, she of Schollers got her learning.

Of Orpheus. 34.

Orpheus hath wed a young lusty wife,
And all day long vpon his Lute doth play:
Doth not this fellow lead a merry life,
Who playes continually both night and day?

Of Cotta. 35.

I wonder (Cotta) Paynters Art can like thee,
Who drew thy picture being nothing like thee.

Of Metius. 36.

Metius of late hath greatly cosend me,
I tooke him for an earnest Catholike,
He talk'd so much of almes and charity;
But I vvas mightily deceau'd belike.
He praiseth charity and almes, because
He was made Barrister for almes, not lawes.

Of the same. 37.

With what conscience can Metius sell law deare,
When of meere almes he was made Barrister?

To Licus. 38.

Licus, thou art deceau'd in saying, that
I'me a fine man: thou saist thou knowst not what.
He's a fine fellow vvho is neate and fine,
Whose locks are kem'd, & neuer a tangled twine,
Who smels of Musk, Ciuet, and Pomander,
Who spends, and out-spends many a pound a yeare,
Who piertly iets, can caper, daunce, and sing,
Play with his Mistris fingers, her hand vvring,
Who companying vvith vvenches nere is still:
But either skips or mowes, or prates his fill,
VVho is at euery play, and euery night
Sups with his Ingles, vvho can vvell recite,
Whatsoeuer rimes are gracious (Licus) leaue,
Iniure not my content then, to bereaue
My fortune of her quiet: I am I,
But a fine fellovv in my fantasie
Is a great trouble, trouble me not then,
For a fine fellow, is a fine foole mongst men.

Of Chrestina. 39.

I told Chrestina I vvould lie vvith her,
When she with an old phrase doth me aduise,
To keepe my selfe from water and from fier,
And she would keepe me from betwixt her thighs,
That there is vvater I doe make no doubt,
But Il'e be loth (vvench) to be fired out.

Of Næuia. 40.

Næuia is one vvhile of the Innes of Court,
Toyling in Brooke, Fitzherbert, and in Dyer:
Another vvhile th' Exchange he doth resort,
Moyling as fast, a seller, and a buyer:
Will not he thriue (think yee) who can deuise,
Thus to vnite the lavv and merchandise?
Doubtlesse he vvill, or cosen out of doubt;
What matter's that? his law will beare him out.

Of the same. 41.

Næuia's a Merchant, and a Gentleman:
That is, scarce honest, liue he how he can.

Of the same 42.

Pardon me (Reader) I will not bewray
Who Næuia is, not that I feare to say,
But that he should be punishd I am loth,
For engrossing occupations as he doth.
He is a Lawyer, and a Merchant to,
And shortly will I doubt haue more to do:
He is a busie fellow, and may be
A knaue Promoter for his honesty.

Of Clodius. 43.

Clodius me thinks lookes passing big of late,
With Dunstons browes, and Allens Cutlacks gate:
What humours haue possest him so, I wonder,
His eyes are lightning, and his words are thunder:
What meanes the Bragart by his alteration?
He knows he's known too wel, for this fond fashion:
To cause him to be feard: what meanes he than?
Belike, because he cannot play the man.
Yet would be awde, he keepes this filthy reuell,
Stalking and roaring like to Iobs great deuill.

Of Phrix. 44.

Phrix hath a nose; who doubts what ech man knows
But what hath Phrix know-worth besides his nose?

In Zelotypum. 45.

Thy wife so nimph-like sitting at the board,
Why frown'st thou that I look on her? good Lord.
What sinne is't to looke on a pretty lasse!
We look on heauen, the Sun & Moons bright face.
Would'st haue me turne away, as I did see
Some filthy slut, or lewd deformity?
Why, Iealousie her selfe may suffer sight;
Sight cannot cuckold thee, nor do thee spight:
If thow'lt not haue her look'd on by thy guests,
Bid none but Harpers hence-forth to thy feasts.

Of Gellia. 46.

The world finds fault with Gellia, for she loues
A skip-iack fidler, I hold her excus'd,
For louing him, sith she her selfe so proues:
What, she a fidler? tut she is abus'd?
No in good faith; what fidle hath she vs'd?
The Uiole Digambo is her best content,
For twixt her legs she holds her instrument.

To the Reader. 47.

Excuse me (Reader) though I now and than,
In some light lines doe shew my selfe a man,
Nor be so sowre, some wanton words to blame,
They are the language of an Epigrame.

To Lydia. 48.

(Lydia) so mote I thee thou art not faire,
A plaine brownetta when thou art at best:
Yet darst not thou come forth into the ayre,
When no wind stirres, and Sunne's hid in the vvest.
But mask'd forsooth, I prethy what's thy reason,
That hauing (God he knowes) no faire to loose,
Thou hid'st that pitteous None so out of season?
Oh th' art a mummer, and perhaps dost choose,
A faire calme euen as fittest for thy gaine:
Sayest thou me so? nay, then we'le haue about,
Come, trip the dice, haue at your box (Madame)
Ile cast at all, for sure I goe not out.
Nothing but mum? nay then we are agreed,
Be I well chanc'd, my chance may be to speed.

To Cotta. 49.

Be not wrath, Cotta, that I not salute thee,
I vs'd it whilst I worthy did repute thee:
Now thou art made a painted Saint, and I
Cotta will not commit idolatry.

To Women. 50.

Yee that haue beauty and withall no pitty,
Are like a prick-song-lesson without ditty.

Of Chrestina. 51.

Talke bawdery and Chrestina spets and spals,
So much her chast thoughts hate it, tut that's false,
She loues it well, wherfore then should she spet?
Her teeth doe water but to heare of it.

Of Pansa. 52.

Fine spruce yong Pansa's growne a malcontent,
A mighty malcontent though young and spruce,
As heresie he shuns all merriment,
And turn'd good husband, puts forth sighs to vse,
Like-hate-man Timon in his Cell, he sits
Misted with darknes like a smoaky roome,
And if he be so mad to walke the streetes,
To his sights life, his hat becomes a toombe.
What is the cause of this melancholly,
His father's dead: no, such newes reuiues him,
Wants he a whore? nor that, loues he? that's folly,
Mount his high thoughts? oh no, then what grieues him?
Last night which did our Ins of court men call
In silken sutes like gawdy Butterflies,
To paint the Torch-light sommer of the hall,
And shew good legs, spite of slops-smothering thies
He passing from his chamber through the Court,
Did spoile a paire of new white pumps with durt

Of Cornelius. 53.

See you him yonder, who sits o're the stage,
With the Tobacco-pipe now at his mouth?
It is Cornelius that braue gallant youth,
Who is new printed to this fangled age:
He weares a Ierkin cudgeld with gold lace,
A profound slop, a hat scarce pipkin high,
For boots, a paire of dagge cases; his face,
Furr'd with Cads-beard: his poynard on his thigh.
He wallows in his walk his slop to grace,
Sweares by the Lord, daines no salutation
But to some iade that's sick of his owne fashion,
As farewell sweet Captaine, or (boy) come apace:
Yet this Sir Beuis, or the fayery Knight,
Put vp the lie because he durst not fight.

Of Issa. 54.

Issa from me to a player tooke her way,
No meruaile, for she alwaies lou'd to play.

To Mira. 55.

Many aske Mira, why I nam'd thee so:
Let them aske Nature why she fram'd thee so.

De Ignoto. 56.

There's an odd fellow, (ile not tell his name,
Because from my lines he shal get no fame:)
Reading mine Epigrams bathes euery limb,
In angry sweat swearing that I meane him:
Content thy selfe I write of better men,
Thou art no worthy subiect for my pen.

Of Nigrina. 57.

Why should Nigrina weare her mask so much?
Her skins lawn's not so fine, so soone to staine,
Her tendrest poultry may endure the touch,
Her face, face and out-face the wind againe.
The cherry of her lip's a vvinter Cherry,
Then weather-proof, & needs no masks defence:
Her cheeks best fruit's a black, no Mulberry,
But fearelesse of sharp gustes impouerishments:
And to be briefe, she being all plaine Ione,
Why is she mask'd to keepe that where is none?
O sir, she's painted, and you know the guise,
Pictures are curtaind from the vulgar eyes.

Of Drus. 58.

Drus for a Cuckold, and miserable's fam'd,
May not he well a hard-head then be nam'd?

To Mira. 59.

Thou fearst I loue thee, for I prayse thee so:
Should I dispraise thee, what wouldst feare I trow?

De Ignoto. 60.

Yon fellow thinks mine Epigrams him meane,
Then let me write of euery bawd and queane.

Of Nigrina. 61.

Painted Nigrina vnmask'd comes ne're in sight,
Because light vvenches care not for the light.

Of the same. 62.

Painted Nigrina with the picture face,
Hauing no maske thinks she's without grace,
So with one case she doth another case,
Doth not her maske become her then apace?

Of Bassus. 63.

Eloquent Bassus speakes all with a grace,
Not so much but good morrow, and good night:
I wonder when the Somner did him cite,
For his sweet sinne, how he spake in that case:
I am sure he could with no grace well refuse it
And worse I doubt with any grace excuse it.

To Mira. 64.

Thou fear'st I am in loue with thee (my Deare)
I prethy feare not, It comes with a feare.

Of Nigrina. 65.

Because Nigrina hath a painted face,
Many suspect her to be light and base:
I see no reason to repute her such,
For out of doubt she will abide the tuch.

Of Gellia. 66.

Gellia intic'd her good-man to the Citty,
And often threatneth to giue him the lurch,
See how this sweet sinne makes the simplest witty:
She (too prophane) whilst he is at the church,
Ringing the first peale at the greatest bels
At home will ring all in with some one els.

Ad Crocum. 67.

Crocus, thou sai'st that thou do'st know more queans
Then many a poore man ears in Autum gleans?
But Crocus, Crocus, if they all know you,
I feare I-faith you haue too much to do.

Of Cæius. 68.

As Caius walks the streets, if he but heare
A blackman grunt his note, he cries oh rare!
He cries oh rare, to heare the Irishmen
Cry pippe, fine pippe, with a shrill accent, when
He comes at Mercers chappell; and, oh rare,
At Ludgate at the prisoners plaine-song there:
Oh rare sings he to heare a Cobler sing,
Or a wassaile on twelfe night, or the ring
At cold S. Pancras church; or any thing:
Hel'le cry, oh rare, and scratch the elbow too
To see two Butchers curres fight; the Cuckoo,
Will cry oh rare, to see the champion bull,
Or the victorious mastife with crown'd scull:
And garlanded with flowers, passing along
From Paris-garden he renewes his song,
To see my L. Maiors Henchmen; or to see,
(At an old Aldermans blest obsequie)
The Hospitall boyes in their blew æquipage,
Or at a carted bawde, or whore in cage:
He'le cry, oh rare, at a Gongfarmers cart,
Oh rare to heare a ballad or a fart:
Briefely so long he hath vsde to cry, oh rare,
That now that phrase is growne thin & thred-bare,
But sure his wit will be more rare and thin,
If he continue as he doth begin.

To the Reader. 69.

Some dainte eare, like a wax-rubd Citty roome,
Wil haply blame my Muse for this salt rhume,
Thinking her lewd and too vnmaidenly,
For dauncing this Iigge so lasciuiously:
But better thoughts, more discreet, will excuse
This quick Couranto of my merry Muse;
And say she keeps Decorum to the times,
To womens loose gownes suting her loose rimes:
But I, who best her humorous pleasance know,
Say, that this mad wench when she iesteth so
Is honester then many a sullen one,
Which being more silent thinks worse being alone:
Then my quick-sprighted lasse can speake: for who
Knowes not the old said saw of the Still Sow.

Conclusion to the Reader. 70.

(Reader) when thou hast read this mad-cap stuffe,
Wherein my Muse swaggers as in her ruffe:
I know these Orphants shal be soone renounced,
Of euery one, and vnto death denounced:
I know thow'lt doome them to th' Apotheta,
To wrap Sope in, and Assifœtida:
And iustly to: for thou canst not misuse,
More then I will, these bastards of my Muse:
I know they are passing filthy, scuruey lines,
I know they are rude, harsh, and vnsauory rimes:
Fit to wrap playsters, and odd vnguents in,
Reedifiers of the wracks of Synne.
Viewing this sin-drownd vvorld, I purposely,
Phisick'd my Muse, that thus vnmannerly,
She might beray our folly-soyled age,
And keepe Decorum on a comick stage,
Bringing a foule-mouth Iester vvho might sing
To rogues, the story of the lousie King.
I care not vvhat the vvorld doth think, or say,
There lies a morral vnder my leane play:
And like a resolute Epigrammatist,
Holding my pen, my Rapier in my fist:
I know I shall vvide-gaping Momes conuince.
My Muse so armed is a carelesse Prince.