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Skialetheia

Or, A shadowe of Truth, in certaine Epigrams and Satyres [by Edward Guilpin]
Guilpin, Edward

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[section]
  
To the Reader.
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EPIGRAMS.
 1. 
Proœmium. 1.
 2. 
To the Reader. 2.
 3. 
Of Titus. 3.
 4. 
To Liuia. 4.
 5. 
Of Matho. 5.
 6. 
Of Faber. 6.
 7. 
Of a railing humour. 7.
 8. 
To Deloney. 8.
 9. 
Of Paule. 9.
 10. 
Of Syluio. 10.
 11. 
To Gue. 11.
 12. 
Of Cotta. 12.
 13. 
Of the same. 13.
 14. 
To Licus. 14.
 15. 
Of Zeno. 15.
 16. 
Of Riuus. 16.
 17. 
Of Clodius. 17.
 18. 
Of Curio. 18.
 19. 
Of Faustus. 19.
 20. 
To Candidus. 20.
 21. 
Of Procus. 21.
 22. 
To Clodius. 22.
 23. 
Of Sextilius. 23.
 24. 
Of Fuscus. 24.
 25. 
Of Gnatho. 25.
 26. 
To Pollio. 26.
 27. 
Of the same. 27.
 28. 
Of Zeno. 28.
 29. 
Of Arion. 29.
 30. 
Of Chrysogonus. 30.
 31. 
Of Torques. 31.
 32. 
Of Lais. 32.
 33. 
Of Fidens. 33.
 34. 
Of Orpheus. 34.
 35. 
Of Cotta. 35.
 36. 
Of Metius. 36.
 37. 
Of the same. 37.
 38. 
To Licus. 38.
 39. 
Of Chrestina. 39.
 40. 
Of Næuia. 40.
 41. 
Of the same. 41.
 42. 
Of the same 42.
 43. 
Of Clodius. 43.
 44. 
Of Phrix. 44.
 45. 
In Zelotypum. 45.
 46. 
Of Gellia. 46.
 47. 
To the Reader. 47.
 48. 
To Lydia. 48.
 49. 
To Cotta. 49.
 50. 
To Women. 50.
 51. 
Of Chrestina. 51.
 52. 
Of Pansa. 52.
 53. 
Of Cornelius. 53.
 54. 
Of Issa. 54.
 55. 
To Mira. 55.
 56. 
De Ignoto. 56.
 57. 
Of Nigrina. 57.
 58. 
Of Drus. 58.
 59. 
To Mira. 59.
 60. 
De Ignoto. 60.
 61. 
Of Nigrina. 61.
 62. 
Of the same. 62.
 63. 
Of Bassus. 63.
 64. 
To Mira. 64.
 65. 
Of Nigrina. 65.
 66. 
Of Gellia. 66.
 67. 
Ad Crocum. 67.
 68. 
Of Cæius. 68.
 69. 
To the Reader. 69.
 70. 
Conclusion to the Reader. 70.
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[subsection]
  
SATYRE PRELUDIUM.
 1. 
Satyra prima.
 2. 
Satyra secunda.
 3. 
Satyra tertia.
 4. 
Satyra Quarta.
 5. 
Satyra Quinta.
 6. 
Satyra sexta.

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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.
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