Ivvenilia :: :: University of Virginia Library

My Muse, I purpos'd to have rested here;
And so she should indeed but that I feare
A gentle warning will not now suffice,
To make men leave off their iniquities:
Yea, I doe know their negligence so great,
'Tis not enough we should perswade, or threat,
And therefore I'me resolved ere I part,
To give them a remembrance to their smart.
And though full loth (cause their ill natures urge)
I'l send abroad a Satyr with a scourge;
That to their shame for this Abuse shall strip them,
And being naked in their vices whip them.
And to be sure of those that are most rash,
Not one shall scape him that deserves the lash.

But some will kick. Yea, let them kick and spare not
So he may come to jerke them well I care not;
For be they rich, or poore, or weake, or strong,
I'l make him finde them that delight in wrong.
Not in despight to make revengefull rumours;
Rather in sport to mocke the worlds base humors.
But lest I make my Prologue overlarge,
I'l let my whipping Satyr know his charge.

First, though we have but little manners got,
Bred in the woods, where many use them not,

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He shall be sent to over-looke the Court,
And dance the Witch, and make the King some sport.

Doe Satyr, goe; thou shalt not be disdain'd;
Love without merit hath beene entertian'd
And so may thine; that Progenie's the most,
Yea, all indeed of which the world can boast:
And that so worthy ('tis a wondrous matter)
Commend it how thou wilt, thou canst not flatter.

If thou maist get their favour that be best,
There is no cause why thou should'st feare the rest:
The good will helpe, but never hurt. Then care not
Although the wicked world offend, they dare not.
First, lash the Great-ones; but if thou be wise,
In generall and doe not speciallize:
Yet if thou doe, so wisely let it be,
None may except but those that faulty be.

Now peradventure, some will rage or storme;
But that's no matter, thou art freely borne:
And though their eies sparke fire, and they look big,
Be thou as sterne, thou need'st not care a fig;
And tell them plainely 'tis not all their show,
Can make men think them better than they know:
'Tis not great words, nor yet a large possession,
Shall free them from the scandall of oppression;
Though they can now, to get themselves a name,
Build Babel up a-new; and quickly frame
Such lofty Palaces, as if they meant
To threaten heaven from the battlement.

Who wonders at it? none I thinke, and why?
Who is so mad to tell them that? not I,
Yet Satyr, looke that thou before thou part,
Give them one jerke to make their Honours smart.
Their stately houses, say, are things but vaine,
An Age or two, shall rot them downe againe,

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And for their vice, if there be none dare show it,
Say I have vow'd to make the world to know it.

Then 'tis not tombes, nor yet a heape of stones,
Shall make men thinke the better of their bones:
No, it shall speake their avarice and pride,
Which those they scorn'd & wrongd shal then deride.
So let them goe their soveraigne to attend,
And those that be not at the best, amend.

Search on for more, but if thou hap to finde
Any among them of the female kind,
Women or Angels, bad or good, thine eies
Shall not looke toward their infirmities.
What ere some say no woman will or can
Wrong him (I'l warrant) that's an honest man.
For they are good and surely would be still
Were't not that men did often make them ill:
Those that are angry with them let them show it,
I'l say th' are vertuous, for because I know it.
Mens faults I tell: so may he womans too
That's plagu'd by whores, with whom he had to doe
These if thou hap to see I charge thee skip,
And search in every office with thy whip;
There, there are those that for their private store,
Make both th' Exchequer, and the Commons poore,
Extortion doth maintaine their bravery;
Yet lay not open all their knavery:
But tell them they a new account must bring;
That lash perhaps their guilty soules will sting.

Thou shalt in Court another troope espie
Such as in show are full of honesty;
Faire tongu'd; but he that such fine followers wants
Is happy; for they are but Sycophants,
Dissembling villaines doe but note them well,
And thou wilt say they are the brood of hell.

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For pluck away their fain'd fidelity,
And they are e'en a heape of villany:
To make them smart these words to them commend
That beggery and shame shall be their end.

Yet thou shalt finde depending on the Court,
Some that will jest to make their betters sport:
But sift them (I durst pawne a brace of testers)
If truth were known, they are more fools than Iesters
And so they are suppos'd; although indeed,
They are more knaves than fools: but take thou heed
Come not within the compasse of their bable,
Then call them knaves as lowd as thou art able.

If thou come thither at some publike show,
(As there thou shalt be whether they will or no)
Remember that thou make a shift to creepe
Neere to the place where they their revels keep.
There stand a while unseene, and doe no more,
But note those fellowes that doe keepe the doore,
If thou perceive some, as some will do then,
Keep out a many worthy Gentlemen,
And let a Laundresse or a scoundrell passe,
Give him a jerke, and tell him he's an Asse.

But lest thou spie what may make thee asham'd:
(Or speake of that for which thou maist be blam'd)
Leave thou the Court, if thine owne selfe thou pitty,
And come a while to walke about the Citie.
As soone as there thou entrest, thou shalt meet,
Great store of Gallants passing out the street.
A part from dice, or Fence, or dancing come,
And peradventure from a whore-house some:
These are good fellowes that will frankely spend,
While lands doe last, or any man will lend:
And yet to see (more fooles the world had never)
They are so proud as if 'twould last for ever.

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And though these lightly cannot have a worse,
Or deadlier sicknesse than an empty purse,
Which will ensue; yet tell them they must meet,
At the Kings-bench, the Counters or the Fleet.

Then step unto the Lawyers: peradventure
They'l by some Writ command thee not to enter,
Yet feare them not; but looke and thou shalt spie
Vnder their gownes a masse of knavery.
Pluck off the maske of Law, that cloaks their drifts,
And thou shalt see a world of lawlesse shifts.
But tell them there's a Iudge wil not be feed:
And that perhaps will make their conscience bleed.
Then tell the Scriveners as thou passest by,
That they were best to leave their forgery,
Or else why is't their eares doe scape so well?
The devill meanes to beare them whole to hell.

Tell the Physitians (if thou meet with any)
Their potions and their drugs have murther'd many.
For which thou would'st have lasht but dost delay thē
Because the Devill meanes to pay them:
But if they'l proove conclusions bid them then,
Try't on themselves, and not on other men.

Desire the Brokers that they would not yawne
After the forfeit of anothers pawne.
It is their right by law they'l say, 'tis true;
And so's their soule, perhaps anothers due,
But sting them; if their conscience quite be fled,
Then shall they pay, what they have forfeited.

Entreat the Taylor next, if that he can,
To leave his theft and prove an honest man.
And if he thinke the matter be too hard,
Knock him about the noddle with his yard.
If he be rich and take the same in snuffe
Tell him his substance is but stollen stuffe:

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And that the Iay would hardly brook the weather,
If every bird should take away her feather.
So having whipt him, let the Priest go shrieve him,
And (if he have authority) forgive him.

Go warn the Crafts-man that he do not lurk
All day at Ale-house, and neglect his work:
And then survey the ware of every Trade,
For much (I tell thee) is deceitful made.
Which if thou finde, I charge thee do not friend it,
But call him knave, and bid him go and mend it.

Oh, see if thou the Merchant-man canst finde,
For hee'l be gone at turning of the winde:
Bid him keep touch, or tell his worship how
His heart will tremble when the Seas are rough:
Desire him too, if he do travell thither
Where conscience is, that he wold bring some hither;
Heer's little, some will have it; if none will,
He shall gain by it, though he keep it still,
If he bring none, 'twere charity I think,
To pray some storm may make his vessell sink.

Look in the Ships, for I have known deceit
Hath been in both the owner and the freight;
Yea note them well, and thou shalt finde their books
Are Woodcocks-gins, and barbed-fishing-hooks:
But he thereby great store of wealth obtains,
And cares not how, so he increase his gains:
Yet lest his riches hap to make him proud,
Satyr, I pray thee tell him this aloud
To make him smart; That whilst he like a Mome
Plaies fast abroad, his wise plaies loose at home:
Nor shall his ill-got masse of wealth hold out,
But he or his, become a banquerout.

Now to thy rest, 'tis night. But here approaches
A troope with torches, hurried in their coaches.

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Stay and behold, what are they? I can tell,
Some bound for Shorditch or for Clarken-well:
Oh these are they which thinke that Fornication,
Is but a youthfull, sportfull, recreation:
These to hold out the game, maintaine the back,
With Marrow-pies, Potato-roots and Sack:
And when that Nature hath consum'd her part,
Can hold out a luxurious course by Art:
Goe, stop the horses quickly (least thou misse)
And tell the Coachmans wanton carriage this,
They of their guide must be advised well,
For they are running downe the hill to hell.
Their venery, will soone consume their stocks,
And bring them to repentance with a pocks.

For other crimes committed without light,
Let such reveale as see like Owles by night:
For many men a secret fault can finde,
But in apparant rogueries are blinde,
Or else they will not see, but thou wert best
Leave whipping and betake thee to thy rest.
If in an Inne it be, before thou sup,
Will that the Tapster call his Master up,
And bid him kindly, sith there lodge thou must,
To use plain dealing like an honest Host.
Dissemblings naught, hard reckonings they are worse;
Light gaines (they say) will make a heavy purse.
And let him not (a fault with many rife)
For base advantage prostitute his wife;
For many men (who are not as they should be)
Doe make their wives more wanton than they would be.
Thereby they gaine, their Innes are ill frequented;
But such ill courses are too late repented.
So schoole him well, but doe thy whip refraine,
And send him to his other guests againe.

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Then thou shalt see the nimble Tapster fly,
Still yauling, Here, anon sir, by and by.
So diligent that time more known must make him,
Or for an honest man thou wilt mistake him,
His best revenue is by nick and froth;
Which priviledge to lose he would be loth.
And there's an old shift (if they leave it not)
There must be something added to the shot.
But wilt thou swagger with him for it? No:
But take him as he is, and let him goe.

Now for most Hostlers, if you hap to try them;
Knaves thou maist say they are, and not belie them,
For they deceive the poore dumbe travelling beast,
And for the fame deserve a jerke at least;
Yet doe thou spare them for there is no doubt
Some guest will find a time to pay the Lout.

Well having rested, and discharg'd thine Host,
I'l send thee downe into the Country, post:
For I have businesse, no man would beleeve,
With whom d'ye think? e'en with the under-Shrieve.
Tell him thou heardst (and that's a fault indeed)
That in some causes he is double-fee'd.
And that moreover he deserves a portion
With those that are indited for extortion;
Yea and for other things as well as that.
Tell him the Country termes him, he knowes what:
Whereat if thou perceive, he make a sport
Thou whip him shalt, till he be sorry for't.
Say to our Knights; their much formality,
Hath made them leave their hospitality:
And say (although they angry be therefore)
That many of themselves are not onely poore,
But that they have too (or they are belide)
Quite begger'd their posterity with pride.

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And sith thou art so neere them; doe not cease
Vntill thou see our Iustices of peace:
There try if thou canst get but so much favour,
To binde the Country to the good behaviour.
And tell them how thou hast informed beene,
That they have granted Warrant upon spleene;
Are partiall, and have over sway'd by might
The poore mans cause that's innocent and right:
If this thou finde be true, thou hast permission
To lash or put them out of the commission.

The Constable, if he were bid, I wisse,
Be good in's office twere not much amisse:
For he, they say, a many meanes may have
If so he be dispos'd to play the knave;
See how he deales, and make thy message known,
For he hath stocks and whipping posts of's own.

There are Church-wardens too, I shame to see
How they run into wilfull perjurie.
Partly in favour and in part for feare,
They wink at much disorder in a yeare:
But if thou hap to take them in the lurch,
Ierke them, as evill members of the Church.
If they reply, offenders are so friended
Though they present, 'tis little thing amended:
Yet tell them 'tis their duty to discharge
Their consciences in every thing at large;
Which if they doe, ill doers shall be sham'd,
Or the corrupted visitors be blam'd.

And prethee tell the B. Chancellors
That thou art sent to be their counsellors
And will them if they meane not to be stript,
And to be once againe like schooleboies whipt,
Their worships should not so corrupted be,
To hinder Iustice for a scurvy fee.

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Then next goe tell their reverend good Masters,
That thou and they are like to fall to wasters:
Faith thou shalt finde their Doctorships perhaps,
Disputing of their Surplesses and Caps,
About the holy Crosse, a Gown, a Hood,
Or some such matter for the Churches good,
But tell them, there are other things to do,
A great deale fitter to be look't into;
And if they please to goe their Visitation,
There's weightier matters looke for reformation.
Yea, say there's many an infirmity
Which they both may, and ought to remedy:
But touch them with remembrance of their place,
And they perhaps will alter then the case.

Then bid those Dunces in our Colledges,
That they provide them good Apologies,
For 'tis reported lately they have both
Betooke themselves to venery and sloth,
And seeke not learning onely, as they should,
But are back-friends to many a man that would
'Twere fit they made a publike recantation,
And were well whipt before a Congregation.

So leaving them their wits for to refine,
Thou shalt be bold to looke on the Divine;
They say, he's grown more carefull of his stock,
Of profits and of tithes, than of his flock:
Now if thou finde report hath not beli'd him,
With good respect unto his Calling, chide him.

I had almost forgot our civill Doctors;
I pray thee warne them and their lazie Proctors,
They would not use to make so many pauses,
Before they doe determine poore mens causes,
And let them not suppose their fees are small,
Sith they at last will get the Divell and all.

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There be Court Barons, many in thy way,
Thus maist thou to the Steward of them say;
Their policie in raising fines and rents,
Hath put poore men besides their Tenements:
And tell them (let them answer if they can)
Their false Court-roles have undone many a man.
Say thou hast seene what to their place belong'd;
And knowst oft times both Lord and tenants wrongd
Yet spare thy whip, for why? the Peoples curse
Already hath prepared them a worse.

So when thou thus hast punisht vices slaves,
And roundly jerkt the Country petty knaves,
Then march thou to the Campe, and tell thou there
The lusty ruffling shuffling Cavaliere,
(Whose hardned heart can brooke to rob and spill
His friend or foe; to ruine, wound or kill)
That he will one day finde a misery
Will dog him to revenge his cruelty:
And see that thou the ruffians courage quaile,
Or lash him till the stocke and whip-coard faile.

Walke but the Round, and thou maist hap to catch
The carelesse souldiers sleeping in their watch;
Or in a march, perhaps they'l goe astray:
But if thou see them out of their array,
And without leave and warrant roming out,
To fetch some desperate booty thereabout,
Remember them; and for their stout bravado's,
See thou reward them with sound bastinado's.
Then bid the Captaines in their Garisons,
Not lay to pawne their rich Caparisons,
Nor run upon the score till they are forc'd,
To be disarm'd for payment, or unhors'd,
Nor keepe the Souldiers hire, lest they be faine
To make an insurrection, or complaine.

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For that indeed proves often times the cause
They doe so much transgresse the Martiall lawes.
Yea, tell them 'tis a scandall to be drunke,
And drown their valour; or maintaine a Punke.
Then if they mend it not, to blot their fame,
In stead of honour, whip them for't with shame.

Lustly, there are some selfe-conceited wits,
Whose stomack's nought, but their own humor fits;
Detracting Criticks; who e'en at the best,
Doe bite with envy, or else snarle at least:
And in thy progresse if discern'd thou be,
'Tis out of question they will snap at thee.
To spight them then, the way's not to out-brawle them:
But say thou car'st not, and that lash will gaule them.

Now Satyr, leave me to my selfe alone;
Thou hast thy message, and thou maist be gone:
Whip any that shall offer to withstand thee
In executing that which I command thee.

And yet, (so ho, ho, ho,) come backe againe,
Be sure that thou doe understand me plaine.
First note; I from my scourge doe here except
The guard by whom the kingdomes peace is kept,
The vertuous Peers know that I nothing grutch them
And on my blessing see thou doe not touch them.

And if in all our Offices there's any
That is an honest man, among so many,
Him did I ever meane that thou should'st spare;
Because I know that such an one is rare.

Physicke and Law I honour (as 'tis fit,)
With every vertuous man professing it;
I doe not aime at such as they: Nor when
I stout our Gallants, meane I Gentlemen,
That well and decently maintained be
According to their fashion and degree:

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No, those I love; and what can I lesse doe,
Sith I of them am well-beloved too?

To blame all Merchants, never was my will
Nor doe I think all Tradesmens worke is ill:
My meaning must not so be understood;
For the last shooes I had, were very good.

Yea, and so farre am I from such a thought
Thou should'st against the Vertuous doe ought:
That if thou but an honest Tapster see,
Tell him I wish we might acquainted be;
And I'l that Hostler love, which in amends
Will use my horse well, that we may be friends.

And to be briefe; good Satyr understand,
That thou maist not mistake what I command:
'Tis not my meaning, neither doe I like
That thou at this time should'st in speciall strike:
Because my hatred might appeare as then,
Not to the vice, but rather to the men.
Which is not so; for though some malice me,
With every one I am in charity.

And if that thou doe ever come to sight,
And bring thy yet concealed charge to light;
I wish it might be tooke as 'twas intended,
And then no vertuous man will be offended.
But if that any man will thinke amisse,
Vpon my life that party guilty is:
And therefore lash him. So, get th' out of dore;
Come what come will, I'l call thee backe no more.

Well, now he's gone the way that I direct him,
And goe he shall how ere the world respect him:
If any mervaile why he was not bolder,
Perhaps he may be when that he is older:
He hath too smooth a chin, a looke too milde,
A token that he is not wholly wilde;

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But may I reach the yeeres of other men,
If this loose world be not amended then,
I'l send a Satyr rougher than a Beare,
That shall not chide and whip, but scratch and teare:
And so I'l teach him, he shall be too strong.
For all your Paris-garden dogs to wrong.
This Satyr hath a Scourge, (but it wants weight:
Your Spanish whips were worse in eighty-eight)
That, shall not onely make them howle for paine,
But touse them till they hold their peace againe.

Now, if the world doe frowne upon me for't:
Shall I be sorry? No, 'twill mend my sport;
But what if I my selfe should hap to stray
Out of my bounds into my Satyrs way?
Why then; (and that's as much as I need do)
I'l give him leave to come and lash me too.

So now my Muse a resting time requires,
For shees o'er-wearied and her spirit tires.

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