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Philomythie or Philomythologie

wherein Outlandish Birds, Beasts, and Fishes, are taught to speake true English plainely. By Tho: Scot ... The second edition much inlarged

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The Cony-burrow.
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The Cony-burrow.

Dedicated to the louers of worth, and friends of vertue, who follow truth with a single heart, and speake it with a single tongue.

Be innocent, but circumspect withall,
The Turtles mate may be the Turtles stall.
Be wise yet trust not wit. The traps we make
For others, first doe our false fingers take.
What we delight to vse, take pride to weare,
Take vs; as Absalon hangd with his haire.
Then walke vpright, to neither hand encline,
There's nought frees innocence, but grace diuine.
The Polcat, Ferret, Lobstar, Weasell, made
A secret match, the Cony to inuade:
VVhich no way they could compasse, whilst he kept
Himselfe abroad, when as hee fed or slept.


At last the Polcat to the Cony went,
With this smooth speech. Good cousen my intent
Hath been long since t'acquaint you with our kin,
And tell ye how our cousenage came in.
Your Grandame was my carefull fostermother,
To your kind Sire, I was a fosterbrother;
My education, nurture, and my foode,
I from my youth receiued from your sweet brood.
In recompence whereof, my thankfull mind,
A fitte requitall long desired to finde.
The time is come, for I haue lately found,
A secret plot, wherein the cunning hound
The close dissembling Tumbler, Lurcher swift,
With Raynard that knowes many a subtill shift.
The Eagle and the Goshauke, haue agreed,
Their stomacke with your dainty flesh to feed.
First they intend the hound shall hunt you out,
And by your footing heate ye once about.
Then shall that hypocrite, the Tumbler trie,
To cheate you of your life, with his false eie.
But if he faile, the Lurcher with his speed,
Will snatch yee vp (they hope) and do the deed.
If not the Eagle, Fox, and Goshauke, sweare,
To eat no meat, till on your lims they teare.
The harmlesse Cony; at this dire report,
Ready to sound, besought in humble sort
The wary Polcat him t'instruct and teach
A way, how he might scape his foes long reach.
Faith (quoth the Polcat) you perhaps might hide,
Your selfe among thicke bushes vnespide,
But that the Hounds and Lurcher both are there,
whose sents will quickly find ye out, I feare.


Againe vpon the rocks, you might remaine,
But that the Eagle, Fox, and Goshauke saine
Thei'l watch ye there; so that no other way
Remaines to scape with life, but night and day
To scrape and grate with your forefeet, a den,
Within the earth, where safe from beasts and men,
And foule, and euery bloody foe you shall,
Your life securely lead in spite of all.
The simple Cony doubting no deceit,
Thought treason had not councell for a bait
And therefore thanks his foe, and (glad at heart)
To dig his owne graue vseth all his art.
A sandy place he seeks, and finding one,
Free from all clay, or flint, or other stone,
He with his forefeet grates, and makes a burrow,
As deepe, as if he ment to trauaile thorow,
The body of the earth, and meet the Sunne,
When it vnto the Antipodes doth run.
Which hauing finisht, he prepares a feast,
And there the Polcat is the chiefest guest.
The Lobster, Ferret, Weasel too must goe,
To ioy him in his house, they loue him so;
And their great friend, the siluer-suited Snake,
Must needs along with them, and merry make.
He welcomes them, and doth before them set,
What iunckets he with purse or paines could get.
The Lyons Court hath not a dainty dish,
But he prouides it, euen beyond their wish.
“Yet they that long for blood, till blood be shed,
“Cannot be satisfied, though fully feed.
Ingratitude! thou monster of the minde
Art thou not only proper to mankind?


Is there a beast that can forget his friend,
And for his owne ends, worke his fellowes end?
Is there a beast whose lust prouokes him kill
The beast that did him good, nere wisht him ill?
Is there a beast who vnder kindnesse can
Dissemble hate? O then thrice happy man!
Thou art not only he that kilst thy brother,
Some beasts there are that murther one another.
Some foules, some fishes, Serpents some there are
VVho pray vpon their kind in open war.
And some that vnder friendship falsly faind,
VVith fellowes murther haue their natures staind.
Nay there is one who can so couer euill,
That man may iudge him Angell, find him diuell.
He first with sweet meats poysond Adams seed,
Since when of sweet meats wisest men take heed.
So need not these bold guests, they eat and drink
And then rise vp to play; but neuer thinke
Ought fadgeth right, till they haue brought to passe
The purposde plot for which this meeting was.
Therefore (dissemblingly) the Polcat gins,
To licke and catch the Cony, and so wins
Hold vnderneath his throat, which hauing fast,
The tragedy begins, the sport is past.
For all assault him then on euery part,
Some at his sides, some at his head and heart.
Some at his belly, but the poisonous Snake,
Doth at his tayle a deadly issue make.
The helplesse Cony sues, intreats, and striues,
But he must die had he ten thousand liues.
Each foe his greedy gorge with blood doth glut
And with his sweet flesh cram each hollow gut.


“But blood that's sweet in tast, is not so sound,
“To feed vpon, as milke that's easier found.
The Snake with poisonous touch had venome spred,
Through all the swelling vaines, from taile to head.
And they had suckt the blacke infection in;
A fitting vengeance for their crying sinne.
Straight they their stomacke find not well at ease,
And something feele, that doth their minds displease.
The VVeasel first suspects the Snake, for he
Can neuer with a Serpent well agree;
Saies, they are poisond all by one base slaue,
VVhose company the Ferret needs would haue.
The Snake replies, he did no more but what
He was appointed to performe by plot.
And if they foolishly had eat their last,
He could not mend with sorrow what was past.
They find it true, but find it now too late,
Each rauing dies, and yeelds constraind by fate.
Yet ere they die, all doe their farewell take,
By shaking teeth together on the Snake.
VVho deadly wounded, crawles but faintly thence,
Confounded with the guilt of his offence.
And heeding not his way, by good mishap,
Became a prisoner to the warriners trap.
This feast was ended thus, death tooke away,
And where they did not well we mend it may.