University of Virginia Library

To Rash Iudgement,

Tom Foole, and his fellowes.

The Prouerbe neuer did more true appeare
In auncient vse, many a fore-gon yeare;
Nor the like dayly practise euer gotte,
That a Fooles Bolt is soone and sodaine shotte
Then now; for tis a customary thing,
Rash iudgement's Arrow, feather'd wil'd-Goose-wing
Is sent abroad, before the Block-head looke
Vnto the marke, where leuell should be tooke.
What action be it nere so honourable,
Or worthy purpose perfect venerable?
What Zealous course of Christian pittie,
But some Fooles Bolt is Shot, therat awrye?
Euen Crowned heads, and Scepter-bearing hands,
That order Kingdomes, guide and gouerne lands:
Seeking Gods glory, and their subiects good:
Wrong'd by Rash iudgment, are misunderstood.
What worthy Nobles, true supports of state,
That iustly merrit Fames eternall date:
For faythfull carriage in most high designes,
Whose vertious goodnesse, bright Illustrate shines.
But some Indiscreete mad-braine Idle dolts,
Will at their actions shoote blind Foolish Bolts?
What vpright Iudge, or Iustest Maiestrate
That fauour not for loue, reuenge for hate;
But giue such sentence as the truth requires:
Which are not Shot at by the tongues of lyers?
Diuines (I meane the Godly best Diuines)
Whose liues according to their Doctrine shines,
That haue not their Religeon all in tongue:
Fayth only fayth, (the fruitlesse Ghristians song)
But on lip-labour do not boasting stand;
For to good wordes, they bring good workes in hand:
And so set foorth the light which God doth please,
Yet hath Detraction Bolts to shoote at these:
And in a word, euen generally all,
That liue the best, and shun with worst to fall:
Of what degree-soeuer high or lowe,
Garded against Fooles tongues can neuer goe:
They will be medling with affayres of state,
They will of things concernes them not, finde prate:
They'le censure, what their sence nere reach'd vnto,
And busie most, where they haue least to do:
Such is their folly, and their madnes such,
By scandall wronging all, exceeding much:
But had they eyes to see their owne contempt,
And how they are excluded, and exempt
All honest credit, sure they would prouide them,
More temp'rate tongues, and better brains to guid them.

A flattering Fooles Bolt.

The fawning Foole, that hath an expectation,
To helpe his needy wantes by dedication;
And to no other leuell euer lookes,
Then get some money by his flatt'ring Books:
Sends foorth his Bolts to euery patrone flying,
Shot at Come some-thing, though it hitt with lying;
Guildes o're this rusty Iron age of follyes:
And thunders out his shot of smoaking vollyes:
Be it proud Hamon of a Courtly traine,
Or churlish Nabell, horder vp of graine;
Or Cittie Diues, in Purple Roabe:
Nay, Bee't the Diuell, that tormented Iob:
Heele wright in's prayse for Gold or Siluer pay:
Such bribing Poets hath the world this day:
But they are base, and a free-bred Muse,
Their memories, but in contempt, will vse:
Our best and worthy witts being true diuine,
Will not be brib'd, to wright a lying lyne
For Honours changling, nor for Monyes slaue,
But as they merit, so their worth shall haue.

A needy knaue shootes at a gredy knaue.

A miserable wretched Widdower,
Did with a friend about a match conferre;
Who in his eares this pleasing speach did sound,
I know a Widdow worth a thousand pound:
And for a hundred I will helpe thee to-her,
Euen ready to thy hand, my selfe will wooe-her.
The greedy Knaue beleeuing this was true,
Did seale a bond, to make a hundreth due:
And quickly gott the Widdow; whose estate
Was not two hundred, houshuold stuffe and plate:
The Bridgrome seeing this, at hart was pang'd,
And look'd like one that had bin lately hang'd;
Swearing the maker of this beggers match,
Should not a penny foorth his clutches catch.
The needy Knaue audatiously reply'd,
Good Sir I haue your bond, that shall be try'd:
Proue I am bound to make the Widdow ritch,
For I will proue you bound to pay so much:
And thus we leaue the Knaues at law togeather,
Till Goose betweene them be not worth a feather.

Knaueishly Shot, Partner.

Two Partners that one trade profest,
Did ioyne their Stockes: the one at rest,
Repos'd his trust on tothers care,
For all the dealing with their ware:
Who gaue him leaue to take delight,
And did protest to deale vpright,
In all he tooke in hand most iust:
For are not we (quoth he) but dust?
And haue no certaine byding heere,
Ther's nothing to a conscience cleare;
Ile loose a pound my selfe deare brother,
Ere wrong a pennie from another.
This saint being trusted; this pure man,
Getts in his hands euen all he can:
Then from accounts doth quarell draw,
And driues poore Brother deere, to law:
Who while he rageth stormes and fretts,
Getts closely in, both stocke and debts,
And vowes indeed I do assure it,
I put vp wrong, but will Indure it.

Shooting after the Woodcocke.

A flying tale of newes was brought
To one that wish'd it true in's thought:
A Cittizen, a young beginner,
That's father, a Rich greedy sinner,
Was dead, and left him all he had:
The man in hart exceeding gald,
Let out his shop, and sould his lease:
Presuming of great wealths encrease,
A lusty Gelding he bestrides,
And downe into the Country rides;
Where comming to the hoped place,
His father in a lusty case,
Doth entertaine him very kind,
His sonne lookes with amazed mind;
Yet cunning turnes the lye away,
And to his father thus did say:
Sir I haue Pawnd my lease of late,
But t'was much to augment my state:
The profit will come treble-fould,
If you do proue my anker hold:
Sonne (quoth his Father) spare your breath,
Ile part with nothing till my death:
Forbeare till then, you must and shall:
But when I dye, Boy, looke for all.

A Foole and his Money is soone parted.

A gallant that had Gold to play withall,
Into a cunning Shifters hands did fall,
That would instruct him of a Brewers Kettell,
To make the Soue'raigne and the Angell mettall:
And swore he had found out old Raymonds tricke,
To make good Gold of a Brasse-candlesticke:
Lothburie where the Brasiers doe abide,
He could make ten times richer then Cheap-side.
All Tombes of Brasse (might hee but haue his will)
Should turne to massie Gold by perfect skill:
In Fryer-Bacon hee was rarely read,
That wrought such wonders with the Brazen head;
And could teach Kelley the Elixar stone:
But hee reserues it for this friend alone.
Thus with his Lyes, hee playd the Knaue at full,
And got so many hundreds of the Gull,
Till all was gon, hee plainly did perceiue;
And then without farewell, hee tooke his leaue:
The nouice pulld his haire and beate his fist,
And sayd, this Alchimist prooues, All is mist.

A Credulous fooles Bolt shot.

T'was Goodman Powlings hap to loose a Cow,
His wife she chafes, and what shall he do now?
Vayth vp to London zeeke zome cunning man.
Chill vind her out, pree-thee be quiet Nan.
So vp comes Powling and he meetes a knaue,
That must ten shillings for a figure haue:
And told him, Saturne mett with Mars iust then.
(Quoth Powling,) then Ile challenge those two men.
Next, how his Cow for want of Taurus ayde,
Was almost mad, before from field she staryde.
That's true (quoth Powling) tis as you do za.
Then, that the Cow in Hora Decima,
Went through the hedge and downe a durty lane.
(True true sayd Powling) ther's the gapp seene playne.
Then, that a fellow dwelling East, South East,
Felloniously did driue away his beast.
All's true (quoth Powling) this I dream'd last night,
I will be sworne you tell me all things right:
So home he hyes and bids his wife spice Ale,
To morrow shee should heare a strange Cow tale.

A Shifters Bolt shot.

Trickes, Shifts deuices, worker by his wits,
Compos'd of knauish humor, Roguish fitts,
Brings a commoditie in secret sort,
Vnto a Tapster, making this report:
I haue a rowle of good Tabacco heere,
Which is exceeding good, and cost me deere:
Vpon the same I do entreat to borrow
Fiue shillings, which I will repay to morroow.
This was at night, the Tapsters hast being great,
To ply his knocking guests, it made him sweat,
So that with speed, crying I come, I come,
He quickly tooke the pawne, and lent the some.
Next morning, early at his better leasure,
He would go try the goodnesse for his pleasure:
But to his comfort and his further hope,
His rowle was nothing but a rowl'd vp Rope.
Oh had you seene the dolefull Tapster stand!
With that same sore temptation in his hand,
You would haue sworne hanging was all his care,
Till guests came in, and drancke him from dispaire.

A Clownes Bolt shot.

Oh Neighbour, Neighbour, wee shall all repent,
The windie Winter, and the bloody Lent;
The musing Michaelmas, the Christide Spring,
But the white Haruest, is a wandrous thing.
Cowslips at Christmas neighbour, what shalls zay?
I thinke the world will zurely end won day:
For all things is zo arssiuarsie growne,
To that which I my zelfe ha zeene and knowne:
That vor to dy I do not care a pin,
If I had zeene but all my Haruest in:
I did not like Saint Swithens day this yeare,
It was not cloudy, nor it was not cleere:
Zure it rian'd zome where things do vall out crosse,
By Pease and Barly I do veare zome losse:
When we lacke raine, none comes, all's dry like meale:
When we want none, we haue a Plaguy deale.
Thus brutish wretches, sencelesse quoyle do keepe,
As ignorant as are their Hoggs and Sheepe:
Depending vpon old wiues foolish tales,
Neglecting God, whose prouidence neare fayles.

Arrowes shott with poysoned heads.

A fawne guest friend to suppe and dine,
And close thy secrets vndermine,
To giue good wordes in presence still,
Behind thy backe speake hatefull ill;
To promise all thou wilt require,
Performing nought thou doest desire:
To prayse what ere thy actions bee,
For loue of thine, not loue of thee:
To giue the gifts of cunning growne,
Because thou giuest two for one:
To prayse the sinnes thou doest imbrace,
And pander them most vile and base:
From lending subtly to perswade,
Yet borrow, neuer to be paiyd.
To draw an other to expence,
And seeme at wast to take offence:
To be in humours iust as thou,
And deuill-like thy faults alow:
For so doth Sathan, soules abuser,
First tempt to ill, then turne accuser.

A Craftie Knaue needs no Broker.

A Cittizen to see his friends had beene,
And homeward bound, came hongry to an Inne,
Where calling for a bit in's stomacks hast:
And that before him on the Board being plast;
As he was saying grace in mentall wise,
Holding his Hatt direct before his eyes:
A country fellow in the roome did looke,
And from before him all his dinner tooke.
Hee hauing ended something tedious Grace,
Missing the victuals, was in greuous case;
And rising from the table discontent,
After the smell into the next roome went;
Where on his dish of meate one sits and feedes:
Quoth he, my friend, why this is more then needes,
That with my victualls you away do walke.
Y'are welcome sir (qouth he) lets eate and talke,
I am as hungry as your selfe can bee:
Heer's meate for both, Ile pay my share with thee;
I often times haue heard Diuines to say,
That a good Christian should both watch and pray:
Which you haue now neglected my deare brother,
I found you doing one, without the other:
Your prayer indeed was in some feruent heat:
But had you watch'd, you had not lost your meat.
Quoth he, I see a merry guest I ha gott.
Your Iest is like to cost you halfe the shott:
But sure hereafter, when good cheare I haue,
Ile keepe your rule to pray, and watch a knaue.

Knaues Boltes.

Ther's certaine knaues, that from the Citie vse
To send into the country lying newes,
Strange tales of nouelties which they deuise,
To make their friends beholding for their lyes:
And these same Schollers, whom the Diuell schooles,
Because they doe appeare more knaues then Fooles,
Wee giue them warning to refraine such Bolts,
As they (the Diuels markmen) shoote at dolts:
For if they do not, to them be it knowne,
(Because a lyer and a thiefe's all one)
There is an Engine framd three corner wise,
That hath an Arrow, wherwith many dyes,
Strooke when the sign's in Taurus, and this stroak
Doth alwayes giue a fearefull fatall choake:
And so wee leaue them in suspence to hang,
Beweare the stringe that giues the deadly twang.

The Sectaries Bolt.

Ovr new Reformer moued all by sprit,
Sprong vp as doth a Mushrome, in a night:
When dreaming vision takes him in the head,
That can beget Religion in his bed.
Most rare and curious wayes of Reformation,
If that the world would creadit his vocation,
And giue but audience worthy his desert,
Wert but it Cheap-side market forth Pease-cart,
(Copingers Pulpit once, and Aringtons)
Hackets beloued deere adopted sonnes,
There would come matter from his Braines no doubt,
Would moue all Carmens Horses there-about:
The crosse in Cheape, he would extreamely crosse,
And proue the guilding very Idoll drosse.
Then with Paules Organs, he would busie bee:
(Sauls Diuell hates not Musique, worse then hee)
Next, with the Common prayer he falles to quarrell,
And with the Clergies black or white Apparell,
The Crosse in Baptisme must not be allowed;
For sure he thinkes, it made him Bitle-browed,
But tis a truth which no man can conuince,
He hath bin monstrous blockhead euer since:
And spares not in hot humour, neuer coole,
To let bolts fly as fast as any foole.

Plucke vp a good hart Neigbour.

Neighbour what ayles you looke, so colly molly,
I veare you ouer grieue, and that's a volly:
Ther's nothing to be got with looking zad,
Vor too much griefe they zay, will make one mad.
Vayth Neighbour you zay true; but chaue a crosse,
I thinke vew men ha zuch another losse,
Vor a mans vancy, tho the thing's but small:
Cham zure you know my Dogg (oh Neighbour) Ball
Was the last night as well as you or I,
And now there is no hope but Ball will die:
And durst ene be zworne vpon a booke,
That with some Planakle the wretch is strooke:
It holdes him plaguy in the head, extreame;
My wife hath zod him a good messe of Creame,
And she nor I, could get him once to lapp.
Zure Neighbour, zure, this is a zore mishapp.
But now tis zo, why who can do withall,
For you and I must dye aswell as Ball;
Come letts goe drinke, and Plucke vp a good heart,
If Ball were hang'd, why friends you know, must part:
But were your hap before your Dogge to go,
Ball would not mourne to see his Maister so.

Like Maister, Like man.

A Taylor and his man did late dispute
How many yardes would make a Gyants sute,
Like to Golias, of his sixe Cubits hie,
And fit him to the fashion gallantly,
His Dowblet French, with Horsmans coate to ride,
His Breech the monsters swagger, Woll-sacke wide:
When each had gest, according to his size,
How Silke and Veluet, by the yard would rise,
And all new fangled stuffes, deuisd of late,
They delt with English cloth, at other rate:
What Kersie, and good Broad-cloth would afford,
But by no meanes they could there-on accord:
At length his man, (as sharpe is needle, witted,
Said maister, this same sute, will neare be fitted:
For how can you or I, bring it to passe,
And do not know how thicke the Gyant was?
Troth (quoth his Maister) thou sayst true indeed,
No further in this poynt we will proceede.
Let's frame our worke for ordinary men,
And take of them Gyants alowance, then:
We shall by sure, be little, bigge or tall,
Take still enough, and ther's no losse at all:
For on good grounds of large demaund to stand,
Is Talour-like to haue a sauing hand.
Thankes (quoth his man) for thus instructing mee,
I haue my trade, pray mayster make me free:
Stay, stay, (sayd he) Sirra, you are too hott,
Ile teach you more, A Fooles Bolt soone is shott.

A Spaniards Foolish Bolt Shot in 88.

In Eighty eight, when Spaines Hell spawne of fleete,
Came (in the Deuills name) our Coast to greete,
With all their brasen Spit-fiers full perswading,
That conquest did attend on their Inuading,
A Signeur, that they left behind in Spaine:
(Keeping safe there, for feare of being slayne)
Mendoza call'd, in publique places try'd,
Victoria, on Spaine and Spaniards side.
Which newes at first did very ioyfull sound,
And he for his Victoria was renound;
Till afterwardes the certaine truth being heard,
How that their Flaggs hung vp in Paules Church-yard
And that their Shipes where sunke and laid in steepe,
In Neptunes rough out ragious-foming deepe:
And by the power of dread Iehouahs arme,
They were dispears'd, from doing England harme,
Victoria, was in hatefull discontent,
And poynted at by Children as he went;
And from Mendoza, Spaines victoria cryer,
Was called Mendax, Spaines notorious lyer.

Counterfait Poets, with their Fooles bolts.

Amongst our shooters with the wincking eye,
That without feare or wit let Fooles Bolts flie,
Like to Will Somers (when the asse was vext)
Who smote, being smitten, who-soere stood next:
What Noble man it were he neuer spar'd,
Yea weart King Harry, all alike he card.
Such purblind Poets haue we now a dayes,
Dare any thing in any mans dispraise,
Let his degree be what-soere it will,
Or life vnknowne to them for good or ill:
Or state, or person, quality, condition:
His humble thoughts, his swelling or ambition,
As farre from them remou'd for worst, or best,
As the East India clymate from the West:
Yet theyle be busie with their make shift ryme,
Composd of blockhead braine, in Cuckow time:
And lay about with lowsie Nitigrams:
As desp'rate as the ranckest butting Rams:
At any man they'le run with pen-an yncke,
Giue but a French or English crowne to drinke:
You purchase Quartpot-poet on your side,
To write til's pen like paire of Compasse stride:
But aske the foolish fellow hauing done,
Why vpon such a man he thus did run?
Which is a stranger vtterly vnknowne?
Heele vow by heau'ns the quarell's not his owne:
He and the party neuer did contend,
But doth abuse him, for abusing's friend:
Yet knowes he not whether that friend of his,
Receiues the wrong, or offers things amisse.
Not any poet worthy Lawrell fame,
Is bleamish'd heere, I know they all do blame
Such base abusers of the art Diuine;
That neare writ straigt, but still keepe crooked line.
True Poets hate such shamelesse brazen faces,
And with their witts lock'd vp in fidle cases:
There to compose some filthy Tauerne songes,
With stuffe that to a muddy pate belonges;
For Wild-goose quill, and odious Rauens pen,
Hath made their writinges base to honest men:
Yea to themselues it may become a curse,
For mad inuectiue braines, grow worse and worse:
And as King Richards Collinbourne for ryming,
Did end his dayes, (so they may do) by clyming.

A Merry Fooles Bolts.

A Subtill Fooles Bolt

Alphonsus King of Naples, had a Iester,
That did his Braines with Courtiers follies pester,
And kept a register of all he see,
(To proue in Court farre greater Fooles then hee)
The King one time desir'd to see his booke,
And as his Fooles fooles, he did ouerlooke,
Hee found himselfe noted amongest the rest,
And the occasion, thus therein expre'st:
Himselfe (not long before) made choise of one,
A stranger, meerely vnto him vnknowne,
To bring him Horses from a forraigne Land,
And put ten thousand Duckets in his hand.
Now (quoth the Iester) and it please your Grace,
In my conceit, tis but a Foolish case
To put your mony in a strangers trust,
That neere will come againe, y'are Coosen'd iust.
But (sayd the King) thou knaue, what wilt thou say,
If he returne, and t'honest man do play?
Sir (quoth the Foole) why then your loue to winne,
Ile crosse you out my Booke, and put him in.

Will, without Reason.

T'was a merry world, in the old time.

Blind-Zeale , Dul-ignoraunce, and Wilful-braine,
Met all togeather, and did much complayne
Of times exchanges, to a bad age growne,
From that which they in former dayes had knowne,
Before King Harry vnto Bolloigne went,
What a great House-rome for a little rent:
And no such cut-throat Fines impos'd on any,
How many new laid-Eggs were sould a penny,
And Butter at no higher price the pound:
Cheese passing cheape, exceeding good and sound:
All Cattell at a small and easie rate,
Graine, euery thing in plentyfull estate.
And (quoth (Blind. Zeale) all this did come to passe
When Monkes and Fryers liu'd in time of Masse.
I, sayd Dul-ignoraunce, tis true indeed,
Mens Children went not then to write and read
As euery weaneling now a dayes must do,
And yet they kept them in their dutie too,
To make a Legge, put off their Hatt, or so:
And taught Saints Picturs, in the Church to know.
Quoth Wilfull-braine, tis right; and for my part,
I hate this Bookishnesse with all my hart:
If Parents were but of my minde, deere friends,
Schoolemaisters might goe picke their fingers ends.
A youth stood by, and sayd, a word I pray,
Mee thinkes you three, in Iudgment goe astary:
Is not Instruction a most blessed thing,
That doth all knowledge of Gods seruice bring?
Who can know God, but by his will reuealed?
Or vnderstand when doctrine is concealed?
The Plenty that you talke of long a goe,
Is sencelesse proofe for learnings ouerthow:
For those that are the farthest off from grace:
As Infidles, that God nor Christ embrace,
Haue all thinges Cheape, and in aboundaunce free:
Fruit, Cattell, Spice Wine, Oyle, and yet wee see,
Their state most fearfull, for this worldly blessing,
Is not assurance of the Heau'ens possessing.
Worlds plentie, is not argument for trueth:
And therefore Maisters, though I am a youth:
And haue not knowne King Harries dayes, you name,
Yet thus much speake I, for King Iames, his fame,
There is a plenty at this present day,
In those three kingdomes where his sword doth sway:
Is call'd the plentie of Gods sacred word,
The Christian world no better can affoord:
Therfore Dul-ignoraunce, and you Blind-zeale,
That with your foode for belly only deale,
Thoug you are old enough straung thinges to tell,
You are not wise enough, so Fooles farewell.

An Enuious Fooles bolt.

Because his Neighbour goes in decent sort,
Payes Parrish duties, with a good report,
Keepes wife and children, comely in attire,
Defraudeth not the labourer of his hier:
With creaditors hath not a haunted dore:
And is a Cheerefull giuer to the poore:
Behind his backe to do him hurt heele say,
It is a wealthie fellow, let him pay:
Hee wants no Coyne, his Purse is furnish'd still,
And is a man that hath the world at will,
Raise him to charges, taxe and bring him hie,
You do not know his state aswell as I:
T'is pitty such men are not seene into:
Were it in my power, I know what to do.
Thus doth this busie Foole, his censure giue:
Because his Neighbour compotent doth liue,
Within his compasse, a iust Dealer konwne,
And paying vnto euery man his owne;
That is not ritch, yet doth no ritches want,
Content and ritch, with that which God doth grant:
But Enuies Asses that such Bolts do shoote,
You are not only Fooles, but knaues to boote.

The World's still worse and worse.

A country graue and auntient good old Mother,
Had three bad Lndlords, each far worse then tother:
The first, with all his Tennants hardly dealt,
But most extreame, his cruell sonne they felt:
His heire came after him, exacting more,
Then Grandsire, or then Father, did before:
The poore old Woman being quit vndone,
By these three Hell-hounds, Grandsire, Father, sonne,
Pray'd daylie vnto God vpon her knee's,
That shee her last, worst Land-lord, might not leese:
At which (her friend admiring) cra'ud the cause:
Marry (quoth shee) the reason that me drawes
To this deuotion for a wicked man,
Is this, his Grand-sire with me bad began,
His Father worse, this sonne farre more me vext:
Whom if he dye, I feare the Diuell comes next:
Sure t's his turne, the rest haue bin so bad,
Except from Hell, worse neuer can be had.

One Scoffe drawes on another.

A gentle-woman, (as her loosenesse sayes)
For Gownes Loose-body fashion now adayes;
And other ornaments that prooue her so:
As Fanne and Maske, (our ages Gentle show)
Was mette within the Citties walking field,
By one, that her with curious eye beheld,
And after viewing well from head to foote,
Conceiu'd a Iest, and thus he put her too't:
Lifting her Garment vp, was bare and torne,
He kist the same; whereat she turn'd in scorne,
Asking the cause. Quoth hee, without offence,
Antiquitie I still doe reuerence.
O sir, (sayd shee) if auncient thinges be deare,
I haue a place, elder by twentie yeare
Then is my Gowne, or any thing I weare,
To please your lippes, they shall be welcome there.

Two Cowards reconcyled by two Coosne'rs.

Two right Hare-harted coward Fooles,
Would end their wrath with Cutlers tooles,
And two most shifting Knaues intends,
To make those Cowards louing friends:
One goes to th'one, and tell's him tother,
Vowes he doth loue him as his Brother;
And would a Supper on him spend:
That Cuppes of Sacke their strife might end,
The other Knaue, tould to'ther Gull;
His foe wept griefe his hart's so full,
To thinke vpon their falling out,
And he will goe ten myle about,
Before he would come neare the field:
Where they might chaunce be hurt or kill'd:
Which when the trembling Slaues did heare,
That stood of each in dreadfull feare,
Their faynting heats with ioye receiue,
And at their meeting both did striue,
Who in expence should most excell:
So Fooles grew friends, and Knaues far'd well,

A Widdowers happie triumph.

Death , thou art slaundred and bely'd,
By weeping mourners watery eyed,
That greeue at thy peace-working power,
And tearme thee Monster, to deuower.
I say for stabbs, and stoping breath,
Thou art a kind most honest Death:
Yet speake not this for worldly gaine,
As though thou hadst my Father slaine,
And I as heire, enioy his land,
Or office Fall'n vnto my hand,
By any one deceassed late:
No min's a hap inestimate,
Thou hast wrought me a freemans life,
By taking hence my scoulding wife,
My make-bate, and my houshold euill,
My Crosse of crosses, my shee-Diuell:
For which suffitient thankes to giue,
I am vnable while I liue:
But will applaud thee all I can,
Thou worthy leane spare Gentleman:
Who euer sighes, or greiues and grones,
Ile honour all thy good old bones:
And till the last mans graue be made,
Raigne King of Pickaxe and of Spade:
For Cate, that often Crack'd my crowne,
Most famous Death hath knock'd her downe.

Well Shot Death.

One at his Neighbours house did ayme,
And ouer's head, shot for the same,
Which greedy villaine would not cease,
Till he had got away the Lease:
Scarse was the Writing seal'd and dry,
But Death, comes for him, he must dye:
And now his conscience full of woe,
Cryes out, to Hell his soule must goe:
And that for him was no more grace,
Then was for those in Deuils case.

Aduice to Mourners.

You that do follow Diues bones,
When he with Hell-hounds, howles and grones,
For casting all Gods feare aside:
Liuing as he should ne're haue dy'd:
Well may you weare your blacke attire;
For vtter Darknesse doth require,
Such sable colours should be worne,
For them that do eternall mourne.
But when a greedy Churle is dead,
That nere gaue poore man peece of bread,
The poore to mourne, I would not haue:
For he is best, when's in his Graue,
Because like Hogg that's fed in Stye,
Hee's neuer good vntill he die:
And then as Swine do yeeld man foode,
(That did in life more hurt then good)
So their goods Fly abrod as then,
Perhaps to hands of better men:
Who put that wealth to honest vse,
Was sinfull gott, by soules abuse.

Certaine common abuses.

A common Alehouse, in this age of sinne,
Is now become a common Drunkards Inne:
A common seller, and a common buyer,
Are turned common swearer, common lyer:
A common Gamester, shifts hath basely made
A comman Cheater, at the Dicing trade,
Of common Thiefe, in Newgate common Iayle,
Of Tyborne common hye-way cannot fayle,
A common Vag'rant, should by law be stript,
And by a common Beadle soundly whipt:
A common Scould, her furious heate must coole:
Wash'd by her diuing in a Cucking stoole:
A common Bawd, and filthy Pander slaue,
Must common Cart, and Brid-well whipping haue;
A common Rogue is tennant for the Stockes,
A common Companyon for the ---

An vnkind man, kills the heart of a Woman.

Hvsband, I sigh to thinke of your vnkindnesse,
That shew your selfe to haue a willfull blindnesse:
You know my nature, how your wife is queasie,
And you may cure my discontentments easie:
For tweene vs two (heer's no man to confront)
Did you not vow, and sweare, and kisse vpon't,
When first you came (as cogging men will do)
To flatter, Promise, and Desembling woe?
That whatsoere my longing's did require,
I should obtaine my very hearts desire:
When sayd you euer, Loue, I vnderstand
Ther's a braue shew by water or by land,
And weele take Bote or Coach to see the same?
No Richard no, I speake it to your shame,
We neare had bit of Lambe at Christ-tid yet,
Greene Pease, or Cherries, I could neuer get;
Codling, or Filbert, Peare, or Artichocke:
Strawberries, Grapes, or daynty Apricocke:
Till they were common, and not worth intreating,
For euery Oyster-wife, and Fish-wiues eating.
Can I regard this vnrespectlesse dealing,
If one be longing sicke, is this call'd healing?
No, no, except I speake to one loue deafe,
You must with speede turne ouer a new leafe:
And when you see your Wife lookes sad toward Bed,
Offer burnt Wine to mende her aking head:
Night slept away, in morning thinke of this,
A Cup of White with Sugar's, not amisse:
Then question how her humor is inclin'd,
Whether that day shee meane to howse her minde?
Or take Field ayre, or walke to view the streete?
And what her Choyse is made, say you So bee't:
Mony her Purse, if she abrode do goe,
For pretty toyes come daylie out you know:
And if a woman fancy with her eye,
Tis death to her, she want coyne to buy:
Note one thing well, for it is worth the hearing;
Marke what your wife commends of others wearing,
For ornament or habit which they haue,
And vnderstand, in praysing she doth craue;
Preuent her with the same before shee aske,
For euer that's a faythfull louers taske:
What comes by sute, drawne out by meere perswasion,
Neuer proceeds from faythfull loues occasion:
But he whose voluntary guiftes doth grace him,
That man's true valour, and I do embrace him:
Husband, few words will serue vnto the wife,
To mend what is amisse, in your hand lyes.