University of Virginia Library

The Third Booke of Humours:

Intituled Notes from Black-Fryers.

Epigram.

To his Lou: Chamber-Fellow, and nearest Friend Nat: Gvrlin Of Lincolnes-Inne Gent.

Nat) Counsaile me! (faith!) what wod'st haue me doe
My priuate Notes produce in publique view?
Tush! mooue me not: yet (doubtles) tis rare stuff
And may Take, why not? if so! Good inough.
How ere (Nat) Patronize it, thou canst tell,
(If ought mislike:) I meant, and wish all well.
Then, Good: or Bad: heer (Sirs!) on liking take it
If Good, 'tis I: If Bad: tis you that make it.

Notes from Black-Fryers.

What (friend Philemo) let me thy corpes Imbrace!
So jumpe met in this vnfrequented place?
Then, faith! 'lets Frolique't: pre'thee whats ye Play?
(The first I visited this twelue monthes day.)
(They say)A new Inuented Toy of Purle
That ieoparded his Necke, to steale a Girle
Of 12: And (lying fast impounded for't)
Hath hither sent his Beard, to Act his part.
Against all those in open Malice bent,
That would not freely to the Theft consent.
Faines all to's wish, and in the Epilogue,
Goes out applauded for a famous ------
Now hang me if I did not looke at first,
For some such stuffe by the fond peoples thrust.
Then stay! Ile see't, and sit it out (what ere)
Had I at comming forth tooke a Glister:
Had Fate fore-read me in a Croude to dye:
To bee made Adder-deafe with Pippin-crye.
Come let's bethink our selues what may be found
To deceiue Time with, till the second sound:
Out with these matches fore-runners of Smoake,
This Indian pastime I could neuer brooke.
See (Captaine Martin) he ith' Renounce me Band
That in the middle Region doth stand
Woth' reputation steele! Faith! lets remoue,
Into his Ranke, (if such discourse you Loue)
Hee'l tell of Basilisks, Trenches, Retires:
Of Pallizadoes, Parepets, Frontires:
Of Cnluerins, and Baricadoes too:
What to bee Harquebazerd: to lye in Perdue:
How many men a Souldier ought to slay
For a Lieutenant-ship: or Twelue month Pay.
Hee'l read a Lecture (by his skill exceeding)
O Reputation: when it lyes a Bleeding:
When Tutcht: when Ingaged: when quite Dead,
Or How none may euer Fight once Baffled.
What satisfaction for the Lye: and when
Quarrels are mortall: when Seconds may come in.
Then of the Nether-lands! what Passes there:
What stout Performances: wherein hee'l sweare
As many weekely fall but for the Lye,
As did in hottest time of Sicknesse dye.
Last for his Manhood: how in furie (crost)
For a false reckoning once he slew his Host.
And late in England, (since his comming o're)
Into the Channell flung an Oyster-whoore.
For taking th' wall of him: seeme but to doubt
(The least) of these: straight he will plucke ye out
Handfuls of Reputation: gain'd of those
That dared not his Valour counterpose.
But wronging him: and call'd to account for't
In Satisfaction from their Hands woo'd part.
Which he puts vp, and gloriously puts forth
In Ordinaries to proclaime his worth,
Thinking to get (what common sence denyes)
Credit: by Pocketting vp Iniuryes.
Then Learne of him, he'l teach you how yee might
Be counted Valiant, and neuer Fight.
Look next to him to, One we both know well,
(Sir Iland Hunt) a Trauailer that will tell
Of stranger Things then Tatterd Tom ere li't of,
Then Pliny, or Heroditus e're writ of:
How he a remnant lately brought with him
Of Iacobs Ladder from Ierusalem:
At the Barmodies how the Fishes fly.
Of Lands inriched by a Lottery.
Of Affricke, Ægypt: with strange Monsters fild,
Such as nere Noahs Arke: nere Eden held.
And rarer Rarities, then all of these:
Iust now to bee discouered (if yee please!)
Such as woo'd make a Blind-man fond to see:
Conuicted Gallants loose their hopes and flie,
Most younger Brothers fell their Lands to buy,
Guyanian Plumes: like Icarus to fly.
Bvt stay! see heere (but newly Entred,)
A Cheapside Dame, by th' Tittle on her head!
Plot (Villain!) plot! Let's lay our heads together!
We may deuise perchance to get her hither.
(If wee to-gether cunniningly compact)
Shee'l holde vs dooing till the Latter Act.
And (on my life) Inuite vs Supper home,
Wee'l thrust hard for it. but wee'l finde her rome,
Heer Mis--- (pox ont! she's past, she'l not come ore,
Sure shee's bespoken for a box before.
Knowest thou yon world of fashions now comes in
In Turkie colours carued to the skin.
Mounted Pelonianly vntill hee reeles,
That scornes (so much) plaine dealing at his heeles.
His Boote speakes Spanish to his Scottish Spurres,
His Sute cut Frenchly, round bestucke with Burres.
Pure Holland is his Shirt, which proudly faire,
Seemes to out-face his Doublet euery where,
His Haire like to your Moor's or Irish Lockes,
His chiefest Dyet, Indian minced Dockes.
What Countrey may-game might wee this suppose,
Sure one woo'd thinke a Roman by his Nose.
No! In his Habite better vnderstand,
Hee is of England by his Yellow Band.
Now Mars defend vs! seest thou who comes yonder?
Monstrous! A Woman of the masculine Gender.
Looke! thou mayst well descry her by her groath,
Out, point not man! Least wee be beaten both.
Eye her a little, marke but where shee'l goe,
Now (by this hand) into the Gallants Roe.
Let her alone! What ere she giues to stand,
Shee'l make her selfe a gayner, By the Hand.
What think'st thou of yon plumed Dandebrat,
Yon Ladyes Shittle-cocke, Egyptian Rat:
Yon Musk-ball, Milke-sop: yon French Sincopace:
That Vshers in, with a Coranto grace.
Yon Gilded March-pane: yon All Verdingall,
This is the Puppet, which the Ladyes all
Send for of purpose and solicite so
To daunce with them. Pray (Sir) a step or two.
A Galliard or a Iigg: Pox ont! cryes hee,
That ere I knew this Toyling faculty.
Yet marke! No sooner shall the Cornets blow,
But ye shall haue him skipping too and fro.
A Stoole and Cushion! Enter Tissue slop!
Vengeance! I know him well, did he not drop.
Out of the Tyring-house? Then how (the duse)
Comes the mishapen Prodigall so spruse,
His year's Reuenewes (I dare stand vnto't,)
Is not of worth to purchase such a Sute.
Tush! is it now to question Gallantry,
When No-land for a rich Gratuity,
May Seale as deepe as can Auaro's Heire,
That may dispend fiue hundred a yeare?
When Tradesmen take by whole sale all they can,
Venting it out, on day, to any Man.
And then themselues for Twelu-pence in ye pound,
Will in the payment of the Debt be bound
And escape free by Breaking. This an age
To feare preferment? When a Rascall Page
An Abiect outside shall presume to Woe
Rich bruted (Cashia:) and hope better too,
Then hee that of the Of-scums of his Braine,
Can a man better then the (Vice) maintaine.
(Tut! 'tis the Mothers plot! Now she shall see
The Court sometimes! Oh Carnall Pollicy!)
Then who in Studdy woo'd spend Time in vaine?
Omit youth's pleasures for a fruitlesse paine?
Or for an Ayrie puffe of Enuy'd Praise,
Liue bound to th' Good-behauiour all his dayes.
Hang't! Let's be Iouiall! Braue it whilst we can!
Whats Coyne ordain'd for, but the vse of Man?
To Borrow is a Vertue, when to Lend,
Is to beget an euerlasting freind:
And may a man haue more said in his grace,
Then to bee Credited in euery place?
Hee's not a Gentleman I dare maintaine,
Whose Word runnes not as Current as his Coyne.
A Pipe heere (Sirra) no Sophistocate.
(Villain) the best: what ere you prize it at.
Tell yonder Lady, with the Yellow fan,
I shall be proude to Vsher her anon:
My Coach stands ready. Lord how me thinkes I long!
To carue the inside of a dry'd Neats-tong.
England cannot afford a kinder relish,
For Backragg, Deale, or your more pleasing Renish
When shall we make a pleasant cut to Douer,
In a mad merry Humor? And send ouer?
A Laugh shall rouz the Hage: shake Lesbon walls:
And raisd in Armes the fearfull Portugalls.
Say Gallants (faith) shall's neuer see the day,
When wee shall Fish-street once againe suruey.
A butterd Crab or Lobsters leg to get,
O Venus! How a Life I sauour it?
Who woo'd not all his Land spend had hee more,
Then in a day a Kite could hoouer ore.
T'inioy the pleasant Harmony that wee
Finde in this Microcosme, Man's societie.
When all is gone, tis weaknesse to dispaire,
Are there not wealthy Widdowes eu'ry where.
Ambitious Sick, woo'd part from all their Good,
To crowne their latter dayes with a French-hood?
Are there not Pates, in strange discoueries teaching
where mountains are of Gold? s'fut, tis but fetching!
Twenty such Fetches hath the (Sharke) to moue
Gallants of the first Head, but to approue
His swaggering Humor, vowes that all he spends,
He getteth brauely by his Fingers ends.
There's not a Cheapside Mercer (if he looke)
That will not sweare to't deeply on his booke.
No noted Notary in Cornwell row,
But is subscribed Witnesse there too.
Silkmen. Haberdashers, Tradesman all:
Inamor'd on him, for his Custome call,
And he takes all of them But woe to him
If he bee taken but by one of Them.
Is't not a thing to bee admired at
That any man should Sing himselfe in debt.
Then who'd not giue as willingly a groate,
To heare (Fantasticks) admirable note?
:As see a Mandrake, or a Sea-monster:
:Edwards blade: with the Tombes at Westminster.
The Eagle at the Tower: St. Iames's Rarityes:
The Estrich, or Beauer, that woo'd worrey Trees?
(Amorous Fantasticke) that did neuer ayme at
A smaller Rise, then Ela in the Gamat.
That ne're conuersed but with men of Note,
Your Crotchet Pate, and your Organick Throat.
Neuer Ambitious more then to be able,
But to attaine vnto a Chamber Treble.
Wondrous proficient! See how the Gentlewomen
Throng to his Chamber doore, but dare not come in,
Why? least he rauish them! Tush! Laugh ye not,
H'as done (I wosse) as great exploites as that.
(Or else he cracks) the sweetnesse of his voyce
Ore-heard of Ladyes, hath procur'd him choyse
Of Matches: Noble, Rich: but hee'l not meddle,
And why (I pray?) for cracking of his Treble.
No! hee'l with better industry make tryall,
If hee can Match his Treble to the Uioll.
Gainst when, hee hath proclaim'd throughout the Citty,
To All your Witts, an Angell for a Ditty:
Faith! was he heere wee'd bargain for a Rime,
And heere he comes. So truely he keepes Time.
Bvt h'st! with him Crabbed (Websterio)
The Play-wright, Cart-wright: whether? either! ho—
No further. Looke as yee'd bee look't into:
Sit as ye woo'd be Read: Lord! who woo'd know him?
Was euer man so mangl'd with a Poem?
See how he drawes his mouth awry of late,
How he scrubs: wrings his wrests: scratches his Pate.
A Midwife! helpe! By his Braines coitus,
Some Centaure strange: some huge Bucephalus,
Or Pallas (sure) ingendred in his Braine,
Strike Vulcan with thy hammer once againe.
This is the Crittick that (of all the rest)
I'de not haue view mee, yet I feare him least,
Heer's not a word cursiuely I haue Writ,
But hee'l Industriously examine it.
And in some 12. monthes hence (or there about)
Set in a shamefull sheete, my errors out.
But what care I it will be so obscure,
That none shall vnderstand him (I am sure.)
Others may chance (that know me not a right,)
Report (iniuriously) all my delight,
And strength of studdy I doe wholly bend
To this Losse-labour and no other end.
To these I wish my scandald Muse reply
In as plaine tearmes as may bee 'Tis a lye.
Heer's but Pate-pastime: Play-house Obseruation,
Fruits of the vacants howers of a Vacation.
Then (say all what they can) I am sure of this,
That for Play-time it is not spent amisse.

To his worthy Friend, H. F. vpon his Notes from Black-Fryers.

Had the Black-Fryers beene still vn-suppressd,
I cannot thinke their Cloysters had bin blessd
With better contemplations: Seeing now
Lesse may be gleand from Puritanes then you
Haue gathered from the Play-house. And I must
(Though't bee a Players vice to be vniust,
To Verse not yeelding coyne) let Players know
They cannot recompence your labour: Though
They grace you with a Chayre vpon the Stage,
And take no money of you nor your Page.
For now the Humours which oppresse Playes most,
Shall (if the owners can feele shame) be lost:
And when they so conuerted doe allow,
What they dislik'd once, Players must thanke you,
And Poets too: for both of them will saue
Much in true Verse, which hisses might depraue:
Since you haue so refin'd their Audience,
That now good Playes will neuer neede defence.

Epilogue. The Author for Himselfe.

I am no Poet! (yet I doe not know
Why I should not: or why I should be so.)
I can (I must confesse) a Metre scan:
And Iudge of Verses as an other man.
I haue been Trayn'd vp'mongst the Muses: (more!)
The sacred Name of Phæbus I adore.
Yet I no Poet am! (I'de haue ye know)
I am no Poet (as the world goes now.)
:My Muse cannot a Note so poorly frame,
:As Inuocate a Penny-Patrons name.
:I cannot speake and vnspeake (as I lift:)
:Exchange a sound friend for a broken Iest:
:Conferre with Fountaines: or conuerse with Tree:
:Admit in my discourse Hyperbolyes.
I cannot highly praise Those highest are
Because they sit in Honours lofty chayre.
Nor make their States in Sonnets happy knowne,
Being (perchance) lesse happy then mine owne.
I cannot sing my Mistris shee is Faire:
Tell her of her Lilly Hand: her golden Haire,
Fetch a Comparison (beyond the Moone,)
To proue her constant in Affection.
:I dare not Her so much as Louely call:
:Or say I have a Mistris at all.
:Why? Ere too morrow, she will changed bee:
:And leave me laught at for my Poetry.
Had I of Scoggins Crowes writ: or set out
In Womans Praises what I was about.
I am perswaded (yet I cannot tell)
I had a Poet prou'd against my will.
Yet (ye vnproued good) blame not because
I yet as (doubtfull on your merits) pause.
I will produce and Patronize it too:
Finde I but one amongst so many true.
But Faine I cannot, heere is not a word,
Which I dare not maintaine true with my sword.
Poets men Lyers call. If so! Then (know it)
Hee is a Poet, doth mee call a Poet.