University of Virginia Library

The .vj. Egloge entituled CORNIX.

Cornix. Fulica.
Cornix.
The wrathfull Winter snowes,
fell Borias blasts do blowe,
The ysicles from houses hang:
The man that earst did sowe
And tillde his stonie soile,
hath let a fielde his plowe,
And takes his ease: the wearie ground
it selfe doth slumber nowe.
The Shephierd hauing shutte
his dores, and caught his cloake
Keepes house: Neæra eke doth sitte
at home in smothering smoake
At Chimnie nooke, and plies
hir pottage Pot apace:
Earst Sommer for his scalding heate,
(when Sommer was in place)
That was so much myslikte,
is now commended sore:
And Winter hated is of vs
for whom we wisht before.

Fulica.
All present pleasure we
but little worth esteeme,
Surpassyng that which is to come
(the hoped good) we deeme:
Euen so the farther off the light
the more the light doth seeme.

Cornix.
Eche Tune and ery Age
his pleasure bryngs with it:
See how the Countrey boyes vnkempt
in patched garments knit,
Reioyce at slaughter time
when Piggs do go to Potte,
They fill the Bladder full of Beanes,
and hauing tide a knotte
They rattell it a good:
an other whiles withall
Closefisted they theyr Elbows ioyne
and foote the flying ball.
And thus the Winter colde
with trottyng here and there,
And frosty time with coursing of
the Countrey ball they weare.
Yet wee farre better here
in Chimnies like to burne
I stretcht in Strawe, do wast the time
whilst milke to crudde doth turne.

Fulica.
The Winter doth forshew
the poore and needefull plight.
We youthes are such a retchlesse route
as do not wey a white
The aftertime to come:
In Sommer carelesse we
Do lead our liues not minding what
the Winter is wont to bee,
And all our pence the Piper hath
for making merry glee.
When Borias makes retourne
from Scythian frosty bounde
And bared trees with battred boughes
and leaues ylayde in grounde
Bewray where byrds haue bredde
and hatcht their chickens earst:
Poore naked soules our shoulders, back,
ribbs, feete with colde are pierst.
Our folite Winter wries,
more wise the Townish be,
That heape their hoordes of wealth at home
furrde downe beneath ye knee.
The Foxe the bellie wraps,
the stomacke gardes the Sheepe:
With help of speckled Libart eke
away the colde they keepe.

Cornix.
We Countrie men are Sottes
and Fooles of erie age,
But not alone we witlesse are:
for why a madder rage
In Citizens doth raigne.
But Lady FORTVNE is
A Damme to them, she seemes to vs
a Mother lawe ywis.
This Stepdamme sterne doth deale
with vs in cruell sorte:
They now a dayes are coumpted mad
that beare the baser porte.
But once allowe me wealth,
let me haue riches store:
Then I am best in all the towne,
I shall goe all before.
Then will my tale be hearde,
I shall be masterd aye:
Then crooke they knees, the caps go off,
and marke what euer way
I passe, the people crouch:
my counsell then they seeke
Both poore & rich, the wealthy snudge,
the saged Fathers eke.

Fulica.
O Cornix, 'tis not Chaunce
that breedes this Witte in Man,
But 'tis the minde: nor maken vs
this Fortune wealthy can.
'Tis God that giues the goods
as earst Amyntas sayde:
'Tis easy riches to attaine
if he do stande our ayde.

Cornix.
Nay Fortune is a God,
no doubt therof I haue.
But what was it Amyntas tolde?
of thee his tale I craue.
For he was knowne a man
of quicke and sharper braine
Than diuers are, wherfore I would
heare his good verdite fayne.
But yet before thou hast
that wise discourse begunne:
Unto the Foldes to see our Flocks
I pray thee (Fulike) runne.
Trudge, and returne in haste,
for after colde (thou knowst)
A fitte of heate more welcome is,
packe and retire in post.

Fulica.
Up to my knee doth reache
the thicke vnthawed snowe,
Scarse houses beare the weight therof:
the Ouen that bakes the dowe,
Hath at the very toppe
great lumpes therof that lyes,
And vp into a picked poynt
it clymes in Pilier wyse.

Cornix.
Fill vp the Racke with hay
that came of latter share:
Do stoppe the clouen clifts with straw,
if so the walles doe stare
Or gape in any place:
and ere thou hither come,
Besmeare the thresholde round about
with slime and bullocke lome.
For nothyng more annoyes
or banes a Beast than colde.
What? art thou com? what means this hast?
'tis more than vse of olde.

Fulica.
Fie, Winter nippes me sore,
this frost doth make me frette:
The greatest comfort in the earth
is, both in colde and heate,
To hugge in reakyng hay,
and when the colde is past
In stiflyng straw to stretch our stumps
and limmes on mow to cast.

Cornix.
Goe to, begyn to tell
how Towne and Countrey trade
Do swarue, the odds display thou here.

Fulica.
Thus good Amyntas made
The diffrence twixt these two.

Cornix.
If he had ought sayde well
I would haue marueld much:
He was a Townish man, and they
do euer beare a grutch
And byte with bitter scoffe
vs poore and Countrey soules,
'Tis all the worke they haue to do,
aye vs the Towne controls.
Yea, they will nothing shame
against the Gods to iest,
Deuising trifles like to this.
Art thou so plaine a gest
And stuft with Pudding so
and hast thy belly full,
As that thy selfe art toutcht herein
can neuer pierce thy skull?
This nippe is euen a taunt:
but let vs for a space
Unto the follies of the Towne
conuert our Countrey face,
And iudge of all their deedes:
least thou surmize perhaps
That they are wyser vnto whome
the people vaile their caps:
And such as daylie goe
in Golde and Purple weede,
Than we that homelie Rustickes are
and simple men in deede.
I sundrie times haue seene
men cladde in costly geare
Like Princes bout the Market square
and ietting here and theare:
Quite hunger steru'd at home
and Kitchins voide of Cookes,
As poore as Iob, when all was weyde
for all their loftie lookes.
What follie more than this?
to beare of wealth a face,
And be a needie Begger yet
for all the painted case?
Men but beguile themselues
in vsing this deuise.
Yea more than that, my selfe haue seene
the Office fathers wise
That beare the onely sway
(O vile and filthie crime)
Whilst they themselues wil liue at ease
and leudly waste the time:
Set out their wiues to hire
and daughters to be solde:
What can be worsse? or fowler fact?
what more to be controlde?

Fulica.
Put case they can not finde
another way to liue?

Cornix.
No? did not GOD as many handes
and other Senses giue
To them, as vnto vs?
yes. Then I pray thee tell
The very reason (Fulick) why
they can not liue as well?
Nay, more than that are some
that practize daylie feate
To come by wealth by vaine deuise
as neuer man could get.
With iuice of sappie hearbes
they rubbe and burnish Brasse,
In hope to make it Golde in time,
and bring their willes to passe
In wresting Nature cleane
and chaunging kinde by skill:
They puffe the coales in pensiue care
with swarth and smoakie gyll.
Another studies harde
and plies inchauntments sore,
In hope to finde some hidden vaine
of Golde, vnknowne before
That lurkes in dampe of ground
and hollowe Uault belowe,
And playes the Witch, but nothing gaines
as proufe doth plainly showe.
What vainer toye than this?
what leude or lighter iest?
Bycause they would auoide the plough-
mans life that is the best,
They practize euery feate,
attempting euery thing:
They ofte begin, but neuer ought
to good effect can bring.
They euer turne and wende
and kepe a daylie coile,
To kepe them from the carefull Carte
and tilling of the soile.
By Money loane and Use
of filthie Fulckers trade,
(That Usurie may well be termde)
infamous shiftes be made.
They practize force and fraude,
and double dealing aye:
They lay their wilie hookes for wealth,
deuising day by day
A meane to mount to state
and Honours tickle throne.
Whilst we Sheepe, Goates & flockes do feede
and let such trickes alone:
They keepe their sowring Haukes,
they foster barcking Houndes,
They haue their footecloth Nags to ride
about their Pasture groundes.
Of Munkies much they make
and other Apish toyes:
This is the onely trade they vse,
these are the Townish ioyes.
The Rusticke Cattle keepes,
the Townsman Currs and Kites:
I pray thee iudge which is the best
of theirs or our delightes?
Which most with Worship standes?
which brings the greater gaine?

Fulica.
If so our trade be bett' than theirs,
then how should they attaine
Such store of stamped Coine,
and Riches as they haue?
How come they by that daintie fare?
bow by those garmentes braue?

Cornix.
How man? By slipper craft,
by pelting pilfring shiftes:
By subtile fetches of the minde,
by double diuelish driftes.
What (madman) dost not see
how vs they daylie wring
In cruell wise? If of our wordes
(a vile and beastlie thing)
They take aduauntage once
and catch vs in a trippe:
We shall be sure to feele the smart
and byde the lashing whippe.
They deeme a godlie deede
to take vs in the snare:
And this is all their whole deuise,
their studie and their care.

Fulica.
Whie? Howe befalls that thou
the Citie knowst so well?

Cornix.
Howe? This I learned earst while I
my milke was wont to sell,
And had my female Goates
within the Citie wall,
I oasted at a Bakers house,
he knewe their manners all.
He was a craftie Childe,
and with his yron would
Goe cut the doawe, and nip the loaues
when Maidens gan to mould.
He, as he wist their wile
and knewe their craftie trade,
Sayd, that the Citie was a Hell.
A whole discourse he made
Of their vnthriftie liues
that in the towne did wonne:
And tolde me, that to filtch at first
himselfe had there begonne.
In Cities other are
with beastly baudie rule
That wast the wealth their Grandsires gaue
and plying of the Cule.
They haue their minion Trulls
and wanton fleshly Froes:
Oh, what more filthie can be founde
than is the life of those?
(Pray) where is Whordome vsde?
Manslaughter and Uprore?
Beare these in Cities not the sway,
and euer did of yore?
Where lodge those Kings that seeke
their Crownes by losse of bloode?
And force their subiects to the death
that in their quarrell stoode?
Where wonne the warly wights
that with such desperat hartes
Obiect themselues to fearfull foe
and dint of deadlie dartes?
For slender wages they
do hazard life and all:
What madnesse more thā theirs that so
do seeke for sodaine fall?
Of life they lesse accompt
than of a blast of fame.
And what is glorie, praise, or laude?
what Worship? Honours name?
What giddie peoples voice
and brute of foolish braines?
All dies and weares away with time,
death all this trumperie staines,
All sodainly do flitte
as light when Sunne doth dimme.
And they that hauing wealth at Land
vpon the Surge will swimme,
And leaue their Countrey coast
are folish wights I trowe:
He wants his witts that will aftie
in windes and water so.
Who so hath store of wealth
and vseth not the same,
Is mad I thinke: But yet of all
that man is most to blame
That liues a Misers life
and ouerharde doth fare,
And heapes his treasure in a hoorde
and all for Sonne to spare:
And leaues the thing vndone
(which he mought compasse well)
For children that shall after come
when he is deade in Hell.
All such as number starres
and meddle with the Skies,
And those that calke the dayes of birth,
and thinke they can comprise
By skill to scan the fate
to man that shall betide,
Are verie fooles: But from his wits
yet he is farder wide
The nature of the Gods
that doth ensearch to knowe,
And dares vpon so great a light
his little eyes to throwe.
Farre better is our faith:
for Townsmen euer looke
To haue a Reason, else they will
scarce credit any booke.
Bare wordes we soone beleeue
that are of Countrey stampe,
And at the sacred Altar set
vp many a light and Lampe.
The Cytizens are harde
of faith, and neuer blinne
To search the secrets of the Gods:
whome if it were no sinne
To descant of so much,
but that we ought to knowe
Their natures, then thēselues they mought
vnto our Senses showe.
But sithens they would haue
their secret kinde vnknowne:
What meane we to enquire of Gods
and let them not alone?
Our charitie bysides
the Townish zeale exceedes.
For holie men that serue the Church
and weare the sacred weedes,
What store of meate get they
which goe from place to place,
Of vs that in the Countrey dwell
within a little space?
I Bargeis lode haue seene
of Graine and goodly Corne
Brought from the countrie to ye towne,
we aye such zeale haue borne.
Another sect of Sottes
and foolish men there are:
As pettie Foggers, barking Buggs
and Pleaders at the barre,
Well skilde to scrape for coine
euen Tirants in their trade:
For fee they sell their helping hand,
for money they are made
The wrongfull case to pleade:
they make theyr chiefest gaine
By letting Causes longer hang
than neede or lawe constraine
Within the cruell Court
where matters are to heare,
And what at one Court day mought end,
they linger on a yeare.
Physitions eke there are
from place to place that ride
On Mullets, that full often strike
the vaines that are denide,
And minister amisse,
and for dyseases frame
(Whose kind they neuer knew before
a certaine terme and name.
And they (though Arte they want
and lack good Physicks skill)
Haue lawfull leaue to vexe the sicke,
yea Patientes eke to kill.
And those that Office beare
and swinge the chiefest sway,
The more authoritie they haue
the more they runne astray.
The madder waxen they
once placde in Rulers roome.
O, what of holie Gouernours
and Fathers is becoome,
Of whome our Elders earst
by fier sitting tolde?
Nowe all is gone to spitefull wracke
that hath bene seene of olde.
The Temples are defaste,
the poore do make complaint,
The widows weepe & wring their hāds
with too much griefe attaint.
And what should be the cause
that things are at this hande?
The onely reason is for that
that Lust for Lawe doth stande.

Fulica.
Fie (Cornix) fie, your rage
beyonde all reason goes:
Thou all men dost condemne alike.
What (man) thou must suppose
That of the Townish some
are good, in Citie dwell
Some honest men that leade their liues
and get their riches well.

Comix.
I haue forgot the name,
but sure thereof I stande,
Nie Balearia liues no Snake,
all venome voides the lande.
No Owle in Creta cries,
no Horsse or Gelding runnes
On mount Ægeria: nor no ho-
nest man in Citie wunnes.

Fulica.
An honest man is scarce,
in Countrey and in Towne:
And vertue is as rare a thing
as any may be foune.

Cornix.
O Fulick thou art mad,
that takst their partie so:
Eche one that in the Citie dwels
is thy vndoubted foe.
They shaue vs close to skinne,
they pill and make vs bare:
They force vs first to filtch, and then
our neckes they do not spare.
They wey not they a whit
though we to Gallowes goe,
They tye vs vp in hampring corde
on tree to feede the Crowe.
If we haue ought that likes
their fansie or their lust,
They thinke to wring it frō our hands,
it is both good and iust.
They plucke away our plumes
and feathers one by one:
They neuer linne to scrape our goodes
till all our wealth be gone.
Which if we chaunce to see,
excuses then are had:
But so we see not when 'tis done,
they will denie like mad
They neuer toke away
one iote but was their owne:
No wrong they do esteeme the Theft
to be that is vnknowne.
Thus all the wealth they haue
and mucke that lies in mowe
By our sustained toile they gat
and sweate of painfull browe.

Fulica.
Nay, now you farre exceede
the bounds of meane and right.

Cornix.
O Fulicke, Townish shameful prancks
infect the worlde quite.
What makes in Sommer time
so many rotten shoures?
Such thundring flakes, winde, flouds & haile,
as from the Heauen poures?
I yet remember I
haue seene the ground to quake:
The haughtie roofes of houses fall,
and Pillerpostes to shake:
The Sunne obscurde with darke
amid the shining day:
And in the night the Moone ydimde
and Starrelight tane away.
Howe chaunst that stinking weedes
the graine do ouergrowe,
And wilde and barraine Oates oppresse
the hoped Haruest so?
How hapt the Goate inuades
and tramples downe the Uine?
That smelling flours in spring are spilt,
and Garden goods do pine?
All these missehappes by meane
of ciuill Townish yll
Befall: and moe in time (I feare)
thereby such myschieues will.
Whence come these rash vproares?
whence springs this battails broile,
That brings with it all kind of plagues
that so annoy the soile?
The Citie is the head
and Fountaine whence it flowes.
Lycaon hee that cruell Woulfe
(whome all the wordle knowes)
From Citie did discende:
Deucalion (with his make
Good Pyrrha) was a Countrieman.
'Twas for Lycaons sake
That all the earth was drownde,
Deucalion peasde the waue:
Lycaon murthred many men,
Deucalion man did saue:
He toke them from the earth,
this brought them life againe.
If euer Fire should wast the worlde
(as some affirme it plaine)
That mischief shall descend
from Towne and Citie sure:
Their vile and filthy liuing will
those cruell plagues procure.

Fulica.
O Cornix, leaue to talke,
I heare the boyes to call
For pottage, (lest I be deceiude)
if ought be left, it shall
At after dinner bee
debated and discust:
Now let vs plie the paunch, the houre
declares to meate we must.