Follies Anatomie :: :: University of Virginia Library

Mounsier Brauado, are you come t'out face,
With your Mouchatoes, gallants of such place?
Pack hence, it is an humor to contend,
In a brauado, with your neerest friend.
Wee'l not contest or squabble for a wall,
Nor yet point field, though you vs vassailes call.
Inuent some other subiect to employ
Your gilded blade, your nimble footed boy.
Correct your frizled locks, and in your glasse
Behold the picture of a foolish Asse.
Barter your lowsie sutes for present gaine,
Vnto a Broker in rich Birchin lane.
Compile a sonnet of your Mistrisse gloue.
Copy some Odes t'expresse conceited loue.
Ride with your sweet-heart in a hackney coach.
Pick quarrells for her sake, set fraies on broach.

Vse Musicks harmony (which yeelds delight)
Vnder your Ladies window in the night.
Stretch with a plume, & cloak wrapt vnder th'arm
Yong Gallants glories soone will Ladies charm
S'foot walke the streets, in cringing vse your wit
Suruey your Loue, which in her window sits.
Black-Friers, or the Palace-garden Beare,
Are subiects fittest to content your eare.
An amorous discourse, a Poets wit,
Doth humor best your melancholy fit.
The Globe to morrow acts a pleasant play,
In hearing it consume the irkesome day.
Goe take a pipe of To. the crowded stage
Must needs be graced with you and your page.
Sweare for a place with each controlling foole,
And send your hackney seruant for a stoole.
Or if your Mistrisse frowne, seeme malecontent
Then let your Muse be cloistred vp, ypent.
Be loue sicke, and harsh Madrigalls expresse,
That she may visit you in such distresse.
I'me sure you haue some pamphlet, idle toy,
Which you rate high, esteeme a matchlesse ioy.
Where's your Tobacco box, your steele & touch
Roarers respect, and value these too much.
Where is your larum watch your Turkies Rings
Muske-comfits, bracelets, & such idle things?
Y'are nak't as Adam if you haue not these,
And your endeauours cannot Ladies please.

If you the Gallants title will assume,
Goe vse th'Apothecarie for perfume,
Weare eare-rings, iewels, cordiuants strong sent,
Which comely ornaments dame Nature lent.
Fy, fy: you are to blame, which times misspend,
That for a trifling cost will lose a friend.
Do not contend in each frequented Lane,
With euere idle coxcombe, busie braine:
But your Mineruaes industry employ,
Your Ladies golden tresses to enioy.
Record your name in some rich Mercers note,
That tradesmen may come pull you by the coate.
And in th'abysse of Vintners chalked score,
Shipwrack good fortune, run thy state on shoare.
Diue in Mechanicks books, till in the streete
Seargeants arrest, conuey thee to the Fleete,
And there in durance cag'd, consume with woe,
Beg with a purse, and sing Fortune's my foe.