All the workes of Iohn Taylor the Water-Poet Being Sixty and three in Number. Collected into one Volume by the Author [i.e. John Taylor]: With sundry new Additions, corrected, reuised, and newly Imprinted |
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 | All the workes of Iohn Taylor the Water-Poet |  |
1
SIR Gregory Nonsence HIS NEWES FROM NO PLACE.
It was in Iune the eight and thirtieth day,That I imbarked was on highgate Hill,
After discourteous friendly taking leaue:
Of my young Father Madge and Mother Iohn,
The Wind did ebbe, the tide flou'd North Southeast,
We hoist our Sailes of Colloquintida.
And after 13. dayes and 17. nights,
(With certaine Hiroglyphicke houres to boot)
We with tempestuous calmes, and friendly stormes,
Split our maine top-mast, close below the keele.
But I with a dull quicke congruity,
Tooke 19. ounces of the Westerne winde,
And with the pith of the pole Artichocke,
Saild by the flaming Coast of Trapezond,
There in a Fort of melting Adamant,
Arm'd in a Crimson Robe, as blacke as Iet,
I saw Alcides with a Spiders thred,
Lead Cerberus to the Prononticke Sea,
Then cutting further through the marble Maine,
Mongst flying Buls, and 4. leg'd Turkicocks,
A dumbe faire spoken, welfac'd aged youth,
Sent to me from the stout Stimphalides,
With tonguelesse silence thus began his speech:
Illustrious flap-iacke, to thy hungry doome,
Low as the ground I eleuate my cause,
As I vpon a Gnat was riding late,
In quest to parley with the Pleiades,
I saw the Duke of Hounsditch gaping close,
In a greene Arbour made of yellow starch,
Betwixt two Brokers howling Madrigales,
A Banquet was serued in of Lampraies bones,
Well pickel'd in the Tarbox of old time,
When Demogorgon saild to Islington;
Which I perceiuing with nine chads of steele,
Straight flew vnto the coast of Pimlico.
T'informe great Prester Iohn, and the Mogull,
What exlent Oysters were at Billingsgate.
The Mogull (all inraged with these newes,)
Sent a blacke snaile post to Tartaria,
To tell the Irishmen in Saxony,
The dismall downefall of old Charing Crosse.
With that nine butter Firkins in a flame,
Did coldly rise to Arbitrate the cause:
Guessing by the Sinderesis of Wapping,
Saint Thomas Watrings is most ominous.
For though an Andiron, and a paire of Tongs,
May both haue breeding from one teeming womb,
Yet by the Calculation of Pickt-hatch,
Milke must not be so deere as Muskadell.
First shall Melpomene in Cobweb Lawne
Adorne great Memphis in a Mussell boat,
And all the muses clad in Robes of Ayre,
Shall dance, Leuoltons with a Whirligig,
Faire Pluto shall descend from Brazen Dis,
And Poliphemus keepe a Seamsters shop,
The Ile of Wight shall like a diue-dapper,
Deuoure the Egyptian proud Piramides,
Whilst Cassia Fistula shall gurmundize,
Vpon the flesh and bloud of Croydon cole dust,
Then on the bankes of Shoreditch shall be seene,
What 'tis to serue the great Vtopian Queene.
This fearefull period with great ioyfull care,
Was heard with acclamations, and in fine,
The whilst a lad of aged Nestors yeeres,
Stood sitting in a Throne of massy yeast:
(Not speaking any word) gaue this reply:
Most conscript Vmpire in this various Orbe,
I saw the Cædars of old, Lebanon,
Read a sad Lecture vnto Clapham heath,
At which time a strange vision did appeare,
His head was Buckrum, and his eyes were sedge,
His armes were blue bottles, his teeth were straw,
His legs were nine wel squar'd Tobacco Pipes,
Cloath'd in a garment all of Dolphins egges,
Then with a voyce erected to the ground,
Lifting aloft his hands vnto his feet,
He thus beganne, Cease friendly cutting throtes,
Clamor the Promulgation of your tongues,
And yeeld to Demagorgons policy.
Stop the refulgent method of your moodes,
For should you liue old Paphlagonias yeeres,
And with Sardanapalus match in vertue.
Yet Atropos will with a Marigold,
Runne through the Mountains of the Caspian Sea.
When you shall see aboue you and beneath,
That nothing kils a man so soone as death,
Aquarius ioyn'd with Pisces, in firme league,
With Reasons and vindictiue Arguments,
That pulueriz'd the King of Diamonds,
And with a diogoricall relapse,
Squeaz'd through the Sinders of a Butterflye,
Great Oberon was mounted on a Waspe,
To signifie this newes at Dunstable.
The Weathercock at Pancrage in a fume,
2
Repli'd thus briefly without feare or wit,
What madnesse doth thy Pericranion seaze,
Beyond the Dragons taile Artyphilax.
Think'st thou a Wolfe thrust through a sheep-skin, gloue,
Can make me take this Gobling for a Lambe:
Or that a Crocadile in Barly broth,
Is not a dish to feast don Belzebub,
Giue me a Medler in a field of blue,
Wrapt vp stigmatically in a dreame,
And I will send him to the gates of Dis,
To cause him fetch a sword of massie Chalke,
With which he wan the fatall Theban field,
From Romes great mitred Metropolitan.
Much was the quoile this brauing answere made,
When presently a German Coniurer,
Did ope a learned Booke of Palmistry,
Cram'd full of mentall reseruations:
The which beginning with a loud low voyce,
With affable and kind discourtesie,
He spake what no man heard or vnderstood,
Words tending vnto this or no respect,
Spawne of a Tortoyse hold thy silent noyse,
For when the great Leuiathan of Trumps,
Shall make a breach in Sinons Tennis Court.
Then shall the pigmey mighty Hercules,
Skip like a wildernesse in Woodstreet Counter,
Then Taurus shall in league with Hanniball,
Draw Bacchus dry, whilst Boreas in a heat,
Inuellop'd in a Gowne of Isicles:
With much discretion and great want of wit,
Leaue all as wisely as it was at first.
I mused much how those things could be done.
When straite a water Tankard answer'd me,
That it was made with a Parenthesis,
With thirteene yards of Kersie and a halfe,
Made of fine flaxe which grew on Goodwinsands,
Whereby we all perceiu'd the Hernshawes breed,
Being trusted with a charitable doome,
Was neere Bunhill, when strait I might discry,
The Quintescence of Grubstreet, well distild
Through Cripplegate in a contagious Map.
Bright Phaeton all angry at the sight,
Snatcht a large Wool-packe from a pismires mouth.
And in a Taylors Thimble boi'ld a Cabbage.
Then all the standers by, most Reuerend, Rude,
Iudg'd the case was most obscure and cleere,
And that three salt Ennigmates well appli'd,
With fourescoure Pipers and Arions Harpe,
Might catch Garagantua through an augor-hole,
And twas no doubt but mulley Mahamet,
Would make a quaffing bowle of Gorgons skul,
Whilst gormundizing Tantalus would weepe,
That Polipheme should kisse Auroraes lips,
Tri-formed Cinthia in a Sinkefoile shape,
Met with the Dogstarre on Saint Dauids day,
But said Grimalkin mumbling vp the Alpes,
Made fifteene fustian fumes of Pasticrust.
This was no sooner knowne at Amsterdam,
But with an Ethiopian Argosey,
Man'd with Flap-dragons, drinking vpsifreeze;
They past the purple gulfe of Basingstoke.
This being finisht, search to any end,
A full odde number of iust sixteene dogs,
Drencht in a sulpher flame of scalding Ice,
Sung the Besonian Whirlepooles of Argeire,
Mixt with pragmaticall potato Pies,
With that I turn'd my eares to see these things,
And on a Christall wall of Scarlet dye,
I with mine eyes began to heare and note,
What these succeeding Verses might portend,
Which furiously an Anabaptist squeak'd,
The audience deafly listning all the while.
A most learned-Lye, and Illiterate Oration, in lame galloping Rime. fustianly pronounced by Nimshag, a Gimnosophicall Phoolosopher, in the presence of Achittophel Smel-smocke, Annani-Asse Aretine, Iscariot-Nabal, Fransiscus Ra-viliaco, Garnetto Iebusito, Guido Salpetro Fauexit Pouderio, and many other graue Senators of Limbo. Translated out of the vulgar Language, of Terra incognita, and is as materiall as any part of the Booke, the meaning whereof a blind man may see without Spectacles as well at midnight, as at noone day.
The Story of Ricardo, and of Bindo,
Appear'd like Nylus peeping through a window,
Which put the wandring Iew in much amazement,
In seeing such a voyce without the Cazement,
When loe a Bull, (long nourish'd in Cocitus,
With sulphure hornes, sent by the Emp'rour Titus,
Ask'd a stigmatike Paraclesian question,
If Alexander euer lou'd Ephestion.
Appear'd like Nylus peeping through a window,
Which put the wandring Iew in much amazement,
In seeing such a voyce without the Cazement,
When loe a Bull, (long nourish'd in Cocitus,
With sulphure hornes, sent by the Emp'rour Titus,
Ask'd a stigmatike Paraclesian question,
If Alexander euer lou'd Ephestion.
I seeing each to other were much aduerse,
In mirth and sport set down their minds in sad verse.
Which as my brains with care haue coin'd & minted,
With plenteous want of iudgment here tis printed,
But if Grimalkine take my line in dudgion,
The case is plaine, I pray good Readers iudge ye on,
That Esop that old fabulisticke Phrygian,
From the Nocturnall floud or lake cal'd Stigian,
Came to the Court at Creete, clad like a Legate,
The Porter kindly to him open'd the-Gate,
He past through Plutoes Hall in Hell most horrid,
Where gnashing cold mixt with combustious torid,
Where all things that are good & goodnes wanted,
Where plants of mans perdition still are planted,
Where Ghosts and Goblings all in sulphure suted,
And all the fiends like Cuckolds were cornuted.
At last he audience got in Plutoes presence,
And of his whole Embassage this was the sence:
To thee Tartarian Monarch now my Rime-is,
And therefore marke my Prologue, or Imprimis,
Thou that in Limbo art as 'twere Rex Regnant,
Beare with my wit, which is not sharp or pregnant,
I come frō Hoūdsditch, Long-laine, & frō Bridewel,
Where all that haue liu'd ill, haue all not dide well,
Where as the Vices shew like Vertues Cardinall,
Where's mony store and conscience very hard in al,
Through thy protection they are mōstrous thriuers,
Not like the Dutchmen in base Doyts and Stiuers,
For there you may see many a greedy grout-head,
Without or wit, or sence, almost without-head,
Held and esteem'd a man whose zeale is feruent,
And makes a shew as he were not your seruant.
To tell this newes I came from many a mile hence,
For we doe know ther's ods twixt talke and silence.
With that the smug-fac'd Pluto shook his vestment,
Deepe ruminating what the weighty Iest ment,
Calling to mind old Dodonæus Hearball,
With Taciturnity and Actions verball,
Quoth he, I care for neither Friend or Kinsman,
Nor doe I value honesty two pinnes man:
But 'tis a Maxime Mortals cannot hinder,
The doughty deeds of Wakefields huffe cap Pinder,
Are not so pleasant as the faire Aurora,
When Nimrod rudely plaid on his Bandora.
For 'tis not fit that any Turke or Persian,
Should in a Cloke-bag hide a feauer Tertian,
Because the Dog-starre in his cold Meridian,
Might arme himselfe in fury most quotidian.
With that, most quick a Pettifoggers tongue went,
(Well oild with Aurum, Argent, or such Vnguent)
Is't fit (quoth he) here should be such innroachment,
By such whose fathers ne'r knew what a Coach ment;
Or shal their Scutchions fairly be indorsed,
Who riding backward iadishly were horsed;
For though in India it be rare and frequent,
Where to the wall most commonly the weak went,
Yet neither can the Soldan or the Sophy,
Shew any Presidents for such a Trophy.
By Rules of Logicke, he's a kind a Catiue,
And makes no reckoning of his Country natiue,
That doth with feeble strength, loue with derision.
And without bloudshed makes a deepe incision,
Why should a man lay either life or lim ny,
To be endangered by a falling Chimney.
For though the prosecution may be quaintly,
Yet may the execution end but faintly,
Let's call to mind the famous acts of Hector,
When aged Ganymede carousing Nectar,
Did leaue the Greekes much matter to repine on;
Vntill the Woodden Horse of trusty Synon,
Foald a whole litter of mad Colts in Harnesse,
As furious as the host of Holophernes.
But to the purpose here's the long and short ont,
All that is said hath not beene much important,
Nor can it be that what is spoke is meant all,
Of any thing that happens accidentall.
We will examine wisely what the Foe sent,
And whether he be innocent or nocent.
In weighty matters let's not be too serious,
Ther's many an Eunuch hath bin thought venerious,
And 'tis a thing which often hath bin heard on,
That he that labours, doth deserue his Guerdon.
Let vs the first precadent time examine,
Youle find that hunger is the cause of famine,
The Birds in Summer that haue sweetly chirped,
Ere winter hath beene done, haue beene extirped.
He may weare Robes, that nere knew what a Rag mēt,
And he that feasts, may fast without a fragmēt,
The end proues all, I care not for the Interim,
Time now that summers him, wil one day winter him.
To outward view, and Senses all exterier,
Amongst all fooles I neuer saw a verier,
Then he that doth his liberty prohibit,
To fall in danger of a fatall Iibbit.
Nor for this purpose here to talke come I,
How siluer may be mock't with Alcamy.
I oft haue heard that many a Hawke hath muted,
Whereby the Faulkners Clothes haue bin polluted.
This may be auoyded if the Knight Sir Reuerence,
Be wary with a negligent perseuerance:
For men of Iudgement neuer thinke it decent,
To loue a stinking Pole-cat well for the sent.
But if a man should seriously consider,
Where Charity is fled or who hath hid her,
He in the end would giue this worthy sentence,
The earth hath beene accursed since she went hence.
The times are biting, and the dayes Caniculer,
And mischiefe girds about the Globes orbiculer,
How from the Countrey all the plaine Rusticity,
Liues by deceit, exiling plaine simplicity.
A face like Rubies mix'd with Alablaster,
Wastes much in Physicke, and her water-caster,
That whosoe'r perceiues which way the stink went
May sent and censure shee's a great delinquent.
Why should a Bawd be furr'd with Budge & Miniuer.
As if she were a Lady, or Queene Guiniuer,
When as perhaps there's many a modest Matron,
Hath scarcely meat, or money, clothes, or patron?
And wherefore should a man be growne so stupid;
To be a slaue to Venus or to Cupid?
Hee's but a foole that hoping for a vaine prize,
Being captiued can haue no baile or maine prize.
For he that hath no shift let him determine,
He shall be bitten with Fleas, Lice, or vermine.
This being all his speeches, Pia Mater,
He call'd a Sculler, and would goe by water:
When straite the Stygian Ferriman a rare one,
Old amiable currish curteous Caron,
Row'd with a whirl-wind through the Acheron tick,
And thence vnto the Azure Sea proponticke,
There Neptune in a burning blue Pauilion,
In state did entertaine this slow Postillion,
There Proteus in a Robe of twisted Camphire,
With a graue beard of monumentall Samphire,
Quoth he, shall we whose Ancestors were war-like,
Whose rich Perfumes were only Leeks and Garlike,
Whose noble deeds nocturnall and diurnall,
Great Towns and Towers did topsie turuy turne al,
Shall all their valour be in vs extinguish'd?
Great Ioue forbid, there should be such a thing wish'd,
Though Cleopatra was Octauian's riuall.
It is a thing that we may well conniue all,
Amongst the Ancient it is vndisputable,
That women and the winds were euer mutable,
And 'tis approu'd where people are litigious,
There euery Epicure is not religious,
Old Oceamus knowing what they ment all,
Brought Zephirus vnto the Orientall,
And he by Argument would proue that loue is
A thing that makes a wise man oft a Nouice:
For tis approu'd, a Greyhound or a Beagle,
Were not ordain'd or made to hunt the Eagle,
Nor can the nimblest Cat that came from Gottam,
Search the profundity of Neptunes bottom.
Let roaring Cannons with the Welkin parley,
It's known, good liquor may be made with Barley,
And by experience many are assured,
Some grounds are fruitfull, if they be manured.
For in the rudiments of health or sanity,
An arrant Whore is but a price of vanity:
Some men with fury will procrastinate,
And some with leaden speed make haste in at,
But in conclusion many things impurely,
Die in the birth, and neuer end maturely.
The man that seeketh straying minds to weane all,
From veniall vices, or offences penall:
Had he the forces of the Turkish Nauy,
He would ly downe at last and cry peccaui,
Of one thing I haue oftentimes tooke notice,
The foole that's old, and rich, much apt to dote is;
And by the light of Pollux and of Castor,
A Woolfe in Shepheards weeds is no good Pastor.
Those that do liue a Commicke life by Magicke,
Their Sceanes in their Catastrophes are tragick.
And he that ore the world would be chiefe Primat,
May giue occasion for wise men to rime at.
Before men fell to wrangling disagreement,
A Lawyer vnderstood not what a fee ment:
It was a time when Guilt did feare no censure,
But loue, and peace, and charity was then sure.
Now fathers (for their bread) dig and delue it.
The whilst the Satten Sons are lin'd with Veluet.
Thus doe I make a hotch potch messe of Nonsence,
In darke Enigmaes, and strange sence vpon sence:
It is not foolish all, nor is it wise all,
Nor is it true in all, nor is it lies all.
I haue not shew'd my wits acute or fluent,
Nor told which way of late the wādring Iew went:
For mine owne part I neuer cared greatly,
(So I fare well) where those that dresse the meat lie.
A miserable Knaue may be close fisted,
And prodigall expence may be resisted,
I neither care what Tom, or Iacke, or Dicke sed,
I am resolu'd and my mind is fixed,
The case is, not as he, or I, or you sed,
Truth must be found, and witnesses produced,
My care is, that no captious Reader beare hence,
My vnderstanding, wit, or reason here-hence.
On purpose to no purpose I did write all,
And so at noone, I bid you here good night all.
Then with a tuchbox of transalpine tarre,
In mirth and sport set down their minds in sad verse.
Which as my brains with care haue coin'd & minted,
With plenteous want of iudgment here tis printed,
But if Grimalkine take my line in dudgion,
The case is plaine, I pray good Readers iudge ye on,
That Esop that old fabulisticke Phrygian,
From the Nocturnall floud or lake cal'd Stigian,
Came to the Court at Creete, clad like a Legate,
The Porter kindly to him open'd the-Gate,
He past through Plutoes Hall in Hell most horrid,
3
Where all things that are good & goodnes wanted,
Where plants of mans perdition still are planted,
Where Ghosts and Goblings all in sulphure suted,
And all the fiends like Cuckolds were cornuted.
At last he audience got in Plutoes presence,
And of his whole Embassage this was the sence:
To thee Tartarian Monarch now my Rime-is,
And therefore marke my Prologue, or Imprimis,
Thou that in Limbo art as 'twere Rex Regnant,
Beare with my wit, which is not sharp or pregnant,
I come frō Hoūdsditch, Long-laine, & frō Bridewel,
Where all that haue liu'd ill, haue all not dide well,
Where as the Vices shew like Vertues Cardinall,
Where's mony store and conscience very hard in al,
Through thy protection they are mōstrous thriuers,
Not like the Dutchmen in base Doyts and Stiuers,
For there you may see many a greedy grout-head,
Without or wit, or sence, almost without-head,
Held and esteem'd a man whose zeale is feruent,
And makes a shew as he were not your seruant.
To tell this newes I came from many a mile hence,
For we doe know ther's ods twixt talke and silence.
With that the smug-fac'd Pluto shook his vestment,
Deepe ruminating what the weighty Iest ment,
Calling to mind old Dodonæus Hearball,
With Taciturnity and Actions verball,
Quoth he, I care for neither Friend or Kinsman,
Nor doe I value honesty two pinnes man:
But 'tis a Maxime Mortals cannot hinder,
The doughty deeds of Wakefields huffe cap Pinder,
Are not so pleasant as the faire Aurora,
When Nimrod rudely plaid on his Bandora.
For 'tis not fit that any Turke or Persian,
Should in a Cloke-bag hide a feauer Tertian,
Because the Dog-starre in his cold Meridian,
Might arme himselfe in fury most quotidian.
With that, most quick a Pettifoggers tongue went,
(Well oild with Aurum, Argent, or such Vnguent)
Is't fit (quoth he) here should be such innroachment,
By such whose fathers ne'r knew what a Coach ment;
Or shal their Scutchions fairly be indorsed,
Who riding backward iadishly were horsed;
For though in India it be rare and frequent,
Where to the wall most commonly the weak went,
Yet neither can the Soldan or the Sophy,
Shew any Presidents for such a Trophy.
By Rules of Logicke, he's a kind a Catiue,
And makes no reckoning of his Country natiue,
That doth with feeble strength, loue with derision.
And without bloudshed makes a deepe incision,
Why should a man lay either life or lim ny,
To be endangered by a falling Chimney.
For though the prosecution may be quaintly,
Yet may the execution end but faintly,
Let's call to mind the famous acts of Hector,
When aged Ganymede carousing Nectar,
Did leaue the Greekes much matter to repine on;
Vntill the Woodden Horse of trusty Synon,
Foald a whole litter of mad Colts in Harnesse,
As furious as the host of Holophernes.
But to the purpose here's the long and short ont,
All that is said hath not beene much important,
Nor can it be that what is spoke is meant all,
Of any thing that happens accidentall.
We will examine wisely what the Foe sent,
And whether he be innocent or nocent.
In weighty matters let's not be too serious,
Ther's many an Eunuch hath bin thought venerious,
And 'tis a thing which often hath bin heard on,
That he that labours, doth deserue his Guerdon.
Let vs the first precadent time examine,
Youle find that hunger is the cause of famine,
The Birds in Summer that haue sweetly chirped,
Ere winter hath beene done, haue beene extirped.
He may weare Robes, that nere knew what a Rag mēt,
And he that feasts, may fast without a fragmēt,
The end proues all, I care not for the Interim,
Time now that summers him, wil one day winter him.
To outward view, and Senses all exterier,
Amongst all fooles I neuer saw a verier,
Then he that doth his liberty prohibit,
To fall in danger of a fatall Iibbit.
Nor for this purpose here to talke come I,
How siluer may be mock't with Alcamy.
I oft haue heard that many a Hawke hath muted,
Whereby the Faulkners Clothes haue bin polluted.
This may be auoyded if the Knight Sir Reuerence,
Be wary with a negligent perseuerance:
For men of Iudgement neuer thinke it decent,
To loue a stinking Pole-cat well for the sent.
But if a man should seriously consider,
Where Charity is fled or who hath hid her,
He in the end would giue this worthy sentence,
The earth hath beene accursed since she went hence.
The times are biting, and the dayes Caniculer,
And mischiefe girds about the Globes orbiculer,
How from the Countrey all the plaine Rusticity,
Liues by deceit, exiling plaine simplicity.
A face like Rubies mix'd with Alablaster,
Wastes much in Physicke, and her water-caster,
That whosoe'r perceiues which way the stink went
May sent and censure shee's a great delinquent.
Why should a Bawd be furr'd with Budge & Miniuer.
As if she were a Lady, or Queene Guiniuer,
When as perhaps there's many a modest Matron,
Hath scarcely meat, or money, clothes, or patron?
And wherefore should a man be growne so stupid;
To be a slaue to Venus or to Cupid?
Hee's but a foole that hoping for a vaine prize,
Being captiued can haue no baile or maine prize.
For he that hath no shift let him determine,
4
This being all his speeches, Pia Mater,
He call'd a Sculler, and would goe by water:
When straite the Stygian Ferriman a rare one,
Old amiable currish curteous Caron,
Row'd with a whirl-wind through the Acheron tick,
And thence vnto the Azure Sea proponticke,
There Neptune in a burning blue Pauilion,
In state did entertaine this slow Postillion,
There Proteus in a Robe of twisted Camphire,
With a graue beard of monumentall Samphire,
Quoth he, shall we whose Ancestors were war-like,
Whose rich Perfumes were only Leeks and Garlike,
Whose noble deeds nocturnall and diurnall,
Great Towns and Towers did topsie turuy turne al,
Shall all their valour be in vs extinguish'd?
Great Ioue forbid, there should be such a thing wish'd,
Though Cleopatra was Octauian's riuall.
It is a thing that we may well conniue all,
Amongst the Ancient it is vndisputable,
That women and the winds were euer mutable,
And 'tis approu'd where people are litigious,
There euery Epicure is not religious,
Old Oceamus knowing what they ment all,
Brought Zephirus vnto the Orientall,
And he by Argument would proue that loue is
A thing that makes a wise man oft a Nouice:
For tis approu'd, a Greyhound or a Beagle,
Were not ordain'd or made to hunt the Eagle,
Nor can the nimblest Cat that came from Gottam,
Search the profundity of Neptunes bottom.
Let roaring Cannons with the Welkin parley,
It's known, good liquor may be made with Barley,
And by experience many are assured,
Some grounds are fruitfull, if they be manured.
For in the rudiments of health or sanity,
An arrant Whore is but a price of vanity:
Some men with fury will procrastinate,
And some with leaden speed make haste in at,
But in conclusion many things impurely,
Die in the birth, and neuer end maturely.
The man that seeketh straying minds to weane all,
From veniall vices, or offences penall:
Had he the forces of the Turkish Nauy,
He would ly downe at last and cry peccaui,
Of one thing I haue oftentimes tooke notice,
The foole that's old, and rich, much apt to dote is;
And by the light of Pollux and of Castor,
A Woolfe in Shepheards weeds is no good Pastor.
Those that do liue a Commicke life by Magicke,
Their Sceanes in their Catastrophes are tragick.
And he that ore the world would be chiefe Primat,
May giue occasion for wise men to rime at.
Before men fell to wrangling disagreement,
A Lawyer vnderstood not what a fee ment:
It was a time when Guilt did feare no censure,
But loue, and peace, and charity was then sure.
Now fathers (for their bread) dig and delue it.
The whilst the Satten Sons are lin'd with Veluet.
Thus doe I make a hotch potch messe of Nonsence,
In darke Enigmaes, and strange sence vpon sence:
It is not foolish all, nor is it wise all,
Nor is it true in all, nor is it lies all.
I haue not shew'd my wits acute or fluent,
Nor told which way of late the wādring Iew went:
For mine owne part I neuer cared greatly,
(So I fare well) where those that dresse the meat lie.
A miserable Knaue may be close fisted,
And prodigall expence may be resisted,
I neither care what Tom, or Iacke, or Dicke sed,
I am resolu'd and my mind is fixed,
The case is, not as he, or I, or you sed,
Truth must be found, and witnesses produced,
My care is, that no captious Reader beare hence,
My vnderstanding, wit, or reason here-hence.
On purpose to no purpose I did write all,
And so at noone, I bid you here good night all.
Turning thrice round, and stirring not a iot,
He threw fiue tunne of red hot purple Snow,
Into a Pigmeis mouth, nine inches square,
Which strait with melancholly mou'd,
Old Bembus Burgomaster of Pickt-hatch,
That plunging through the Sea of Turnebull streete,
He safely did ariue at Smithfield Barres.
Then did the Turnetripes on the Coast of France,
Catch fifteene hundred thousand Grashoppers,
With foureteene Spanish Needles bumbasted,
Poach'd with the Egs of fourscore Flanders Mares,
Mounted vpon the foote of Caucasus,
They whorld the football of conspiring fate,
And brake the shinnes of smugfac'd Muleiber:
With that grim Pluto all in Scarlet blue,
Gaue faire Proserpina a kisse of brasse,
At which all Hell danc'd Trenchmore in a string,
Whilst Acheron, and Termagant did sing.
The Mold-warp all this while in white broth bath'd,
Did Carroll Didoes happinesse in loue,
Vpon a Gridiron made of whiting-mops,
Vnto the tune of Iohn come kisse me now,
At which Auernus Musicke gan to rore,
Inthron'd vpon a seat of three-leau'd grasse,
Whilst all the Hibernian Kernes in multitudes,
Did feast with Shamerags stew'd in Vsquebagh.
At which a banquet made of Monopolies,
Tooke great distaste, because the Pillory
Was hunger-staru'd for want of Villianes eares,
Whom to relieue, there was a Mittimus,
Sent from Tartaria in an Oyster Boate,
5
And with nine graines of Rewbarbe stellified,
As low as to the altitude of shame,
He thrust foure Onions in a Candle-case,
And spoild the meaning of the worlds misdoubt,
Thus with a Dialogue of crimson starch,
I was inflamed with a num-cold fire,
Vpon the tenterhookes of Charlemaine,
The Dogstar howld, the Cat a Mountaine smilde,
And Sisiphus dranke Muskadell and Egges,
In the hornd hoofe of huge Bucephalus,
Time turn'd about, and shew'd me yesterday,
Clad in a Gowne of mourning had I wist,
The motion was almost too late they said,
Whilst sad despaire made all the World starke mad,
They all arose, and I put vp my pen,
It makes no matter, where, why, how, or when.
Some Sence at last to the Learned.
You that in Greeke and Latine learned are,And of the ancient Hebrew haue a share,
You that most rarely oftentimes haue sung
In the French, Spanish, or Italian tongue,
Here I in English haue imployd my pen,
To be read by the learnedst Englishmen,
Wherein the meanest Scholler plaine may see,
I vnderstand their tongues, as they doe me.
| All the workes of Iohn Taylor the Water-Poet | |