The Anatomie of Basenesse :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Anatomie of Basenesse

Or The foure quarters of a Knaue; Flatterie, Ingratitude, Enuie, Detraction [by John Andrewes]

Andrewes, John

[epigraph]

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OF THE FLATTERER.

They that compare the fawning Parisite
vnto the Spaniel, do the curre much wrong;
for he will often heare his masters tongue,
When in the field he follows his delight:

Yet neuer quest; but th'ecchoing Sicophant
at euery word, by his weake fauourer spoken,
cries good, 'tis true, and this is held a token
Of much respect and loue; though from the haunt

Of worth and merit, his base nature range
as farre as falshood, from the strong built nest
of Truth and Goodnesse, which in euery brest
Should like two twinnes be nourisht; but tis strange

To see how this poore worthlesse humour liues,
euen in those bosomes where good bloud and parts,
haue their abiding, poisoning generous Arts
With that, to which no language spoken giues

An Epithete too bad: and to those men
(if I may tearme them so) whose only words
such sweetnesse to the flattered eare affoords,
To yeeld a fitting title by my pen:

I am as much vnable, as vnapt
to imitate their basenesse; which indeede
had I not chanc't t'haue heard, into my Creede
Could nere haue come, but it hath often happt

To sownde within the compasse of my hearing,
whereby mine eares as to the pillory,
seem'd to be nailde in such grosse flattery;
Yet in their checkes no signe of shame appearing.

It may seeme strange (yet I dare say't is true)
that I haue blusht to see their impudence,
while they (vn-man-like) seem'd to haue no sence
Of their owne basenes: of this thriuing crue.

I haue observ'd both Sexes to be free;
too free in some respect, though in some kinde
more bound then slaues, for our best part (the minde)
Was chiefly giuen diuinest things to see:

And not to be by ought that shares with vs,
in the short course of our mortalitie
so fetter'd, least vnhappily it be,
Depriv'd of its best good in being thus.

Haue I not heard one tell, the Crowe shee's white,
and Midas-like preferre the pipe of Pan
before Appollo's harpe? wherein this man
(Who thus from Art and Nature teares their right).

Thus from the Phrygian differs, Midas weares
(as thereward and badge of ignorance)
th'eares of an Asse; but 'tis the others chance
To thriue by clawing th'ignorant Asses eares.

Haue I not heard some tell the prodigall,
'tis for his honour to be bountifull:
and with applause commend the humorous Gull
In all his actions? I haue seene them fall

And kisse the feete of a great golden calfe;
whose very best of his admired worth
was by a Taylor to the world brought forth,
To whom his Honour ought his better halfe.

Let a man chafe (though no iust cause there be)
and then obsequious Apes will fret as fast,
as had they seene a verier slaue t'haue past
By, then themselues: or be your humour free

And Iouially dispos'd, they'le Ianus-like
straite shew a cleerer face, where you may see
the true proportion of hypocrisie
Drawne to the life; (which loues as others like)

Many yeeres since the famous Chaucer writ,
that, these same men which beare a double visage,
are as meere monsters in good Natures linage;
And for good mens societie vnfit.

Like your Camelions these will change their hew
as you your colour, be it good or ill,
change nere so oft, yet you shall finde them still,
(From what they were) transforme as fast as you.

Seeme to be most vnlike your selfe, or speake
what you least thinke they'le be, and speake like you;
tell them they're Knaues theyle smile and say so too;
Faine your selfe ill, they'le sweare they finde you weake.

TO THE FLATTERED.

Fond Man, that suck'st the pleasing poyson in
(which from the Syrens vnsuspected tongue
Is kindly offer'd to thine eare) wherein
are all the drugges and dregges of vildnesse wrung:
Assure thy selfe; if in thy bosome liue
ought that deserues the name of worth, 'tis knowne
More then thy selfe, nor shalt thou neede to giue
Fame a reward to haue thy mercy blowne:
For't is her care, the more she findes thee slow,
or carelesse, whether thy desert shall be
Knowne vnto any, but thy selfe, or no;
to sownd the louder: (so to honour thee)
Thorough her golden Trumpet, (good mens throats:)
Or if thine eare shall loue, and itch to heare
Thine owne praise sung in smooth and pleasing notes,
(which makes true worth vnlike it selfe appeare)
She hath an other Trumpet blowne by those,
whose mercenary tongues shall sownd thy praise;
But with a breath which blasteth as it blowes,
and ruines that which it pretends to raise.
For do but note, you shall perceiue their plots,
are (being once assur'd of you as friends)
To thrust their blankes amongst your high priz'd lots,
so by your losse to compasse their owne ends.

But selfe-conceipt so much corrupts your sence,
that to your iudgement, onely that same man
Seemes wise, and honest, and giues no offence
that by this Art, can make a Goose a Swanne.
If by the breath of these, you striue to raise
your Reputation, your Ambition's weake;
You must resolue of such to buy your praise,
not for the Trueth, but for reward they speake.
If on the former (who for Vertues sake
honour that good is in you) you relie,
Their approbation shall haue power to make
your glorie liue to all Posteritie.
Doe not you thinke that man deserues much blame
who findes his owne infirmitie, yet feedes
Daily on that which nourisheth the same,
And dangerously the braines corruption breeds?
Such is your case (weake men and women) for
you like the meate because the sauce is sweete;
What bitter is (though wholsome) you abhorre,
disabling that which iudgement holdeth meete.
But Iudgement, is no iudgement, if it seeme
to contradict your humour; but the longer
Y'are constant to this poorenesse, (which you deeme
worth in your selues) your weaknes proues the strōger.
Though to the palat pills distastfull be
they to the health more beneficiall proue,
Then things more pleasing to the sence; we see
cutting doth oft in curing much behoue:

But you like Herod thinke, that he most loues you
who cries, you speake more like a God then man,
Beheading him that honestly reproues you,
not caring though it be baptizing Iohn:
Let a man seeme but cheerefully to sing
Placebo to your words and actions, then
You quite forget, neere honie lies a sting;
and that the diuell (clarke-like) sayth Amen:
Where flatterers (his Chaplaines) reade the Masse
whose superstition (making you their Saint)
You doe allow as currantly to passe,
for Truth, as Gospell (which no tongue can taint.)

TO THE FLATTERER.

Thou that canst grieue because another smiles,
and giue, to vndeseruing spirits, stiles
Which thou dost filch from gen'rous noble minds;
because thy poore obsequious humour findes
Cold intertainment there, tell me; dost thinke
that all are blinde that are content to winke?
Or that thy shamelesse flattery beguiles
euery man that at thy glozing smiles?
Assure thy selfe thy thoughts deceiue thee much;
for many smile to see thy basenesse such:
And such as thou think'st blind more truly see
thy heart, then they that hugge thy flatterie;
And (scorning by thy pitch to be defil'd,
or by thy sweet tun'd lullabies beguil'd)
Doe loath to view thy vilde deformitie,
which pleasing is to such as fauour thee.
That euery man be master of his owne
all men allow; but it is lately growne
To such a custome, (first by thee brought in)
among th'Ambitious of this age of sinne,
That to a man (if I professe to loue him)
I must giue titles some degrees aboue him:
Or else be tax'd with enuie or neglect,
though my soule knowes, I giue more true respect

Then you that id'ly light a torch at noone,
and tell the Sun hee's brighter then the Moone;
Which argues only that your humour is,
still to be doing though you do amisse
In guilding golde. This I obserued haue
in some, whose age did homage to the graue,
Whose words in prai'rs more fitly had been spent,
and with deuotion on embassage sent
To make their peace with heauen, then to obay
that which would guide them by the broader way.
If it be hatefull euen in younger yeeres
to temporize and gloze, sure it appeares
Monstrous in age, whose part it rather is
to grieue for what in youth it did amisse;
Then in the last act of a life mis-led,
To heape more blowes vpon a wounded head.
Could I instruct, or might I but aduise;
I'de teach, or wish you to become more wise:
But 'twill be thought preposterous in youth
to tutor Age, though by the Word of Truth
Such proofes as it doth bring approoued be:
Therefore I leaue you to your humour free;
Wherin (no doubt) you'le one day finde this true,
You make your-fav'rers fooles, they knaues of you.
Too mild a stile, for that's a tearme for men;
if so, too good for any flatterer then:
What shall I call thee diuell, monster, beast?
if not all these, thou'rt one of them at least

Transform'd to th'shape of man; nor seemes it strange
if thy grand Master (who himselfe can change
Into an Angels likenesse) make thee seeme,
a Saint-like man in many mens esteeme;
Instructing thee vpon what vaine to worke,
and where thou maiest the most securely lurke
With best assurance, bids thee plie that minde
where thou the weakest easinesse shalt finde:
Such thou maiest puffe as Butchers do their meate,
and with thy breath perswade them they're as great
As thou dost make them; and aboue the rest,
be sure (my child) thou suff'rest not a Iest,
Bee 't nere so poore to passe without a Good,
though by none else the same were vnderstood
How to deserue applause; and then thou hear'st
amongst that Sect (where gracious thou appear'st)
A tedious talker, sencelesly discourse
(till he dull others, and himselfe grow hoarse)
Let thy attention (till his tonguely'th still)
stare in his face, then let him finde thy skill.
These be the rules, and many worse then these
thou must obserue, if thou desir'st to please;
Thy Tutor sayth, whose helpe will nere deceiue thee,
and to whose fauour wretched man I leaue thee.

OF THE INGRATEFVL.

Some haue compar'd (and not improperly)
him that is tainted with this worst of ills
vnto the Swine, who (freely, daily) fills
His hungrie mawe euen to sacietie

Vpon such Maste as from the fruitfull tree
falls to the ground; yet his deiected eye
is fixed only where his food doth lie,
And neuer rais'd the Giuers face to see.

Guilty of this vnpardonable crime,
where diuers kinds of these inhumane men,
discoursed by th'industrious famous pen
Or heathen Tully liuing in his time.

The first Dissemblers were of fauours reap'd
proportioning the same (being more or lesse)
To the small measure of their thankfulnesse,
Though a full hand on them the same had heap'd.

The next acknowledg'd freely that occasion,
off'ring it selfe (ioyn'd with abilitie)
to make requitall (for each curtesie)
Seem'd deafe to opportunities perswasion.

An other sort there was, whose shamelesse crauing
would not admit deniall, but being made
master of their desires could soone perswade
Their tongues (too basely) to denie the hauing.

The fourth and last (and worst my Author writes)
were such as, what they had receiu'd, forgot.
Unthankfull he then that remembers not;
He that denies, dissembles, not requites.

Let me adde one kinde more, which I conceiue
worse then all these, who like the frozen snake,
stings that same bosome, whence it warmth did take;
And would, what gaue it life, of life bereaue.

Such there hath been my obseruation knowes,
who (from a poore, deiected miser state)
being rais'd (by Great ones) proued so ingrate,
To bring their Raysers necke neere th'axes blowes.

Should I demaund why such vnnumbred were
among the former, some man might reply;
(as vnto him who ask't the reason why,
Among so many lawes, so strict, seuere,

Made by the Romans, none was knowne to touch
the childe, whose hand should guide the fatall knife;
to cut his throat who gaue his being life):
Because that Tully thought there liv'd none such.

But since the time perfidious Iudas dyed
(who at his end (I feare) bequeath'd his curse,
to some that do in these daies beare the purse)
Such there haue been, such haue been Deifide.

If your prosperity strike sayle, be sure
These Kites, which stoop to you while you can feede them,
come to an others fist; and if you need them
They soare aloofe, checke at your empty lure.

Much like their Embleme which (for the full payles)
followe the maide that beares them; if she fall
and spill the meate, to that they run, and all
Respect of her that vs'd to feede them, failes.

Or Cuckoe-like, they to your Summers sunne
sing merrily (though sucke your egges withall)
but when they finde your Summer faile, and fall
Draw neere, they're gone, and their harsh musicke done.

TO THE BOVNTIFVLL.

If on the waters you shall cast your bread
it is not lost, but if your pearles you throw
Vnto these swine, be sure the same they'l tread
vnder their feete; good seed in good ground sowen,

Beneficia malè locata malefacta sunt.

Fauours ill plac'd, are numbred with ill deeds;
for if that hand which liberally bestowes,
(Though it (in giuing) other mens exceedes)
not the true vse of Bountie rightly knowes,
'Twere better be more sparing, for to giue
is proper to all creatures in their kinde:
The meanest thing which we can say doth liue,
in some respect we beneficiall finde.
But vnto man is only giuen the powre
to limit Bounty, know when, how, on whom,
Best to bestowe; not like a heedlesse showre
to let faire flowers die in their mothers wombe
For lacke of moisture, whil'st vpon vild weedes
it (in aboundance) poures refreshing droppes;
This kinde of giuing naturally proceedes
from partiall hands, which in the course soone stoppes.
Nor should your bountie (like the sunne) runne round.
and shine on all alike, though (like the beames)
The same should seldome in the eclipse be found;
the truest Bountie liues betweene extreames.

Non ita claudenda est res familiaris, vt eam benignitas aperire non possit, nec ita reseranda vt pateat omnibus.

Your hand should neuer be so lockt from all,
as to deserue a couetous report:

Nor still in action like your Prodigall,
who makes expence his most delightfull sport:
Long since were none then Good-men held more fit
to taste your Bountie (then 'twas rightly vs'd);
But in those daies, such men must naked sit:
thus is true liberality abus'd.
He that can now most temporize, best thriues,
and great men, more then good men, Bounty taste;
Honie is brought vnto the fullest hiues,
small riuers giue vnto the sea (in waste.)
Many (againe) like Husband-men doe lay
their seede in th'bosome of the fattest ground;
Whose richnesse will with much aduantage paie,
where for each graine there shall an eare be found:
And some of you, to gaine a knaues good word;
orby a Iester to be highly prais'd
Will giue with both handes, place them at your boord;
when good-men are not ore your threshold rais'd.
Bounties pure current in this muddie time,
is by the fogges of Prodigalitie
So steinch't, with stinking ayres, so're-spread with slime,
that (as it were not) no such thing we see.
Wee finde the streame as contrary to runne,
vnto that course which it should rightly hold:
As is the West to th'rising of the sunne,
or Southerne heate vnto the Northerne cold.
Nay more, this Uertue suffers so much wrong,
as to be made a subiect nay a slaue;

Euen vnto such whose hase malitious tongue
the Giuers reputation dare depraue:
Yet haue they still gift after gift receiu'd,
euen to the full of their desires. Shall I
Say this was bounty? I might seeme bereav'd

Talis benignitas vanitati est coniunctior, quam liberalitati. Cic.

(in saying so) of sence and honesty.
If a curst dogge (fed at your table) bites you,
you'le kick him (if not hang him) at the least:
And in a man (which doggedly requires you)
reward you that, you punish in a Beast?
I know not what to tear me this kinde of giuing:
nor will I make my braine a minte for phrase;
But wish that men (whil'st their faire fame is liuing,
would manifest it comes of Vertues race:
Whose true-borne children should relieue her friends;
but Vertue starues, they so degenerate

Virtus laudatur & alget.

In sucking base ones, for their priuate ends
whil'st she and hers (though prais'd) are desolate.
Alas poore Vertue, (onely poore to such,
as do not know thy worth, who liue and die
Without all sence of goodnes, or a touch,
of ought but Beast-like sensualitie):
Or rather let me pittie them then thee.
for though the strange deformed Brats of vice
Be richly clad now, thine in pouertie;
they valued high, but thine at meanest price;
The time may come, when Bountie shall appeare
pure, like it selfe, and like faire Vertues friend.

When Ostentation shall not dare come neere,
nor Prodigalitie perswade her spend,
But vpon such as merite more then craue;
then shall no bauling foole, no wit-bare Iester,
No fawning base insinuating slaue
presume, the place where Bountie liues to pester.
And you that now it thus abuse, shall then
curse your much-giuing, and mis-giuing hand.
When you shall see the deeds of other men,
grauen in brasse, yours written in the sand.
Such mettle are mens hearts, the thankfull part
cannot forget the good it doth receiue,
But (as in brasse) record it in his heart,
of which no time can ere the same bereaue.
Th'ingratefull Nature (sand-like) doth retaine
th'impression of your hand, and more perceiues
An aptnesse in it selfe to take againe,
then to make shew it any thing receiues.

TO THE INGRATEFVLL.

Is't long of thy short memorie, that thou
yeeld'st not due thanks, where thou the same do'st owe?
Alas, good man; why do'st thou not forget
to begge as well? or dost thou thinke it fit
For men to craue thy thankes; because to thee
vnask't their fauours came not? can there be
Excuse allow'd for such a fault? O no;
But contrarie, no Tyrants lawe can show
A torture too seuere for such an Ill:
Looke how an ore-charg'd peece breaking doth kill
The gazers on, and yet the Gunner stand
not hurt at all, though from his fatall hand
Death tooke his flight; so doth thy want of Art
rightly to vse a friend, make many smart
And suffer too vniustly: For, thy fault
makes honest hearts (with no such basenesse fraught)
Suspected; which approues the Prouerbe true
men scalt with hot, cold water do esche we.
The guiltlesse seruants of that

Naball.

Carmelite
inurbane foole, who did with ill requite
Fauours receiv'd) had been to death pursude
(but for his wife) for his Ingratitude.
Art thou reliev'd in want, and canst forget
(vnworthy wretch) what gracious hand did set
Thy misry free? doost thinke ther's nothing more
to be perform'd, when of thy leaprous sore
Of Pouerty thou'rt cur'd; no thankes, no praise,
rendred to him which chang'd thy painfull daies

To times of ease? more grieuous is thy sore
(through thy neglect) by much then 'twas before.
Thine outward sence then only felt the smart;
but now it sticks so close to thy false heart,
(And vlc'ringly'th in thy corrupted bloud)
that not from thence proceedes a thought that's good.
If by sinister meanes thou hast obtain'd
what thou inioy'st, thou canst not say 'tis gain'd.
By wealth that's purchast with the losse of Fame,
men do growe rich in nothing else but shame:
In whom, desert, no thankfulnesse doth moue,
they doe no lesse then cheate men of their loue.
Thou with a hollow heart, false, stopp'd within,
on thy best friends wilt play, so thou mai'st win:
Gaine sauours well to thy misiudging sence,
whose facultie can easily dispence

Dulcis odor lucri.

With any Stocke, with any ground, or dung
(bee't ne're so base, or vild for any tongue
But thine to touch) from whence it doth proceede,
though in thy bosome with the same doth breed
Hatefull Ingratitude; whose brasen brow
(bold Impe of Impudence) will not allow
A blush to touch it. I confesse my fault
from misconstruction came, in that I thought
Thou had'st been man, aswell in deed, as Name,
which title did to thee, when thou to shame.

OF THE ENVIOVS.

Doe we not hold him mad, that in his hand
dare gripe an Adder, though he crush it dead?
or seemes it strange, if he by whom is fedde
A Lyons whelpe, or hath of Beares command.

Shall haue his bloud by them vntimely shed?
What shall we thinke him then that entertaines
a Viper next his heart, which from his vaines
Sucks his best bloud, and leaueth in the stead

A fretting poyson? whose effect is this,
It makes him grieue and rage at others good,
to stabbe himselfe to spill an others bloud,
And thinke himselfe curs'd in an others blisse.

Let him be gorg'd, euen to the very throate;
yet will he vexe to heare an other call
for a poore crust of bread; it frets his gall
To see a sayle belongs not to his boate.

If with the price of one of his owne eyes
he can buy both an other mans, hee'l doo't:
'Tis to be fear'd too, for a Soule to boote
Hee'l giue his owne to hell a sacrifice.

This is the man which from his mothers wombe
hath been peruerse and froward, whose vild life
is nourisht only by the breath of strife;
Which birth and breathing cannot want a roome

At last in hell; for he that trauells heere
(this Monster-like) with mischiefe, cannot finde
a place more suting to his diu'lish mind,
Then where his friends and father may be neere,

To be deliuer'd of his hell-bred seede:
for there some damn'd infernall Hagge or other
may be the Midwife, fit for such a mother
From whom (at best) some Fury must proceede.

This is the man who sits, and laughs to spie

Vix sunt homines hoc nomine digni quamque lupi seu plus feritatis habent, perfudere manus fraterno sanguine fratres.

where men do (Wolfe-like) by the throate, each other
teare: how th'inhumane brother kills the brother,
And by the hand of children, Parents die.

Where he perceiues an others downe-fall nigh,
He thirsts to see their ruine, more then they
whose high-flowne Falcons (watchfull for their prey)
Threatning to bring Destruction from the skie,

Long to behold the fearefull game strooke dead.
'Tis Enuies life, soule, summum bonum, all
which we tearm deere, to see an other fall,
Though't be the man that giues his hunger bread.

To see his neighbour fast is his best foode,
It makes him leane to see another fat;
He pines to nought, when he finds nought whereat
He may repine. To haue him vnderstood,

And to the full describ'd; thus in a word,
it grieues his staru'ling spirit more to see

Inuidens non miserum discruciatur aliena felicitate, quàm suo infortunio.

An others good, then his owne miserie;
Though it cut deeper then Afflictions sword.

TO THE ENVIED.

Is it not strange, that such can liue, whose foode
is dres'd by Enuie, and with poyson mixt,
Whose heart's the kitchin, and whose canker'd bloud
the meager Cooke carowseth; while betwixt,
His master and the diuell are begotten
prodigious Monsters, which appeare as barren
Of honestie as Hell, their ioints as rotten
through want of marrow, as a peece of carrion?
By these th'art malic'd; but be not dismaide
nor grieue thou at them, rather for them grieue
If so thou canst thy Charitie perswade,
(which as thou'rt flesh and bloud, I scarce belieue.)
When a fierce Dogge comes running at thee, stay
and thou shalt finde hee'l rather back retire,
Then offer to assault thee: if away
from him thou fly'st thou further'st his desire.
So these (farre worse then dogges) will fiercely bite,
when they perceiue their venome makes thee stirre:
For nothing giues such fulnesse of delight
to th'snarling spleene of a malitious Curre,
As to behold the mischiefe that he doth.
But where well-temper'd patience doth preserue
(As a safe Antidote to th'rankling tooth

Inuidia virtute parta, gloria, non inuidia putanda est.

of Enuies whelpes) they pine awaie, and starue.
This to thy Fare-well; if thy Vertues make thee
hatefull to th'bad, their enuie is thy glorie:
If loue to vice make good mens loue forsake thee,
resolue thy selfe they enuy not, they're sorrie.

To the Enuious.

Bvt that I know thy face, I must confesse
I should haue trembled; for an Obiect lesse
Fearefull, were able without Physicks Art
To make a Costiue man play a loose part.
I cannot thinke the worst of Pharaoes kine
Look't halfe so bare, as this poore trunke of thine;
Which like Sir Cranion, or a starv'ling Capon
Staukes here and there, proportionably shapen
To thy leane spirit, whose repining hate
Hath brought thy Carcasse to this pining state.
I see there are more waies to th'wood then one.
Not age, or wedlocke, bring'th a man alone
Vnto a Night-cap; for a wretched minde
Gaue thine to thee; O had it been so kinde
T'haue put a Nose-gaie too into thy hand;
And in thy Ruffes roome plac'd a falling band,
Many had look't t'haue seene thee turne, and Hope
Would haue presum'd that next had come a Roape:
Whereto thy hanging ominous lookes presage
Thou must do homage; in th'meane time, ingage
That little hope thy wretched soule enioyes
Of Heauen, to him who thy best good destroyes,
In feeding thy insatiable spleene;
Which, (had not helpe from hell transported been)
Could not haue been so diuelish as't hath proov'd,
But it in thee infernall powers haue mou'd:

Scarce Hell it selfe, could conster that for ill;
VVhich (damned) thou (to satisfie thy will)
Hast vrg'd (I know) as an extreame offence,
Against vnguiltie, harmelesse Innocence.
VVhich hiath by some (too credulous weake men)
(Out of their wisdomes) been found faulty; when
Had they been masters but of so much sight,
As to distinguish betweene day and night,
They had beene lesse iniurious, or more iust;
But to such Iudges must the guilty trust,
VVhil'st Innocence must suffer; yet not so
But it may liue to see their ouerthrow
VVho moale-like heaue vnseene, till at the last
Their working be discouer'd, and they cast
Out of their hollow trenches, and withall
Trod on by them, whom they desir'd might fall;
Then shall your sable Cacodæmon be
Hang'd with a twigge vpon some willow tree;
To all which Enuious vndermining slaues,
I wish no fairer Ends, no better graues.

OF THE DETRACTER.

This comes in last, because he comes behinde
those whom he wrongs, though in his doing so
the diuell cannot him in skill foregoe;
Vnto the last but this, This last I finde

To be as neere alli'd in Basenesse, as
a brother can be to a brother twinne,
in feature, though (as oft) Nature therein:
Proportion them so like, that each doth passe

For other. Only this one difference I note
this last, allow'th more freedome to his tongue
then Enuie doth, and other men are stung
By him more then himselfe; he makes his throate

An open graue, where his contagious breath,
labours to blast the spotlesse fame of such,
whose Reputation it shall chance to touch.
Nor can the hand of Reconciling Death

Free men from this iniurious Monsters sting,
which through the bowels of the earth doth pierce,
and in the quiet vault appeares more fierce
Then Death (the graues sterne tyranizing King.)

Were a man here as free from actuall ill,
as when he first mov'd in his mothers wombe;
or as the man that calls the Heauen his home
Guiltlesse of sinne; yet would this trie his skill.

If in a bul-rush he can finde a knot;
or from pure hony (which the harmlesse Bee
suck'd from those flowers which like it selfe was free)
Straine poison'd iuyce; where if he finde one iot

Which he can iudge doth relish of a weede
(from which the toylsome Bee cheerfully flies,
home to the hiue with hony-laden thighs)
He straite concludes no good can thence proceed.

So strange is the distraction of this Tom
of Bedlam, that all places, times, and men
without distinction seeme alike: for when
The furious rayling fit comes on him, from

His stinking stomacke, hee'le belch forth such geere,
such filth; and with such violence, as though
he meant to cast his rotten garbage: so
He ioyes to make his loathsomnesse appeare.

This (what shall I terme him?) will deuoure your bread,
call you his master, crouch with cap in hand,
professe he falls, if you shall faile to stand;
Yet curse you liuing, ioy when you are dead.

He'le be the Herald of your Infamy,
and scandalize your worth, though you haue bred

Hic niger est, &c.

him to the shape of man euen from a shred.
This is a blacke-one, full of trechery.

To the Detracted.

Though Wolues against the siluer Moon do bark,
they blemish not her brightnes, nor the spight
Of bauling Curres, (which she disdains to mark)
can any whit eclipse her of her light.
So mai'st thou slight the railing of ill tongues,
if a cleere shining conscience be thy guard;
Which to defend thee from the worst of wrongs,
will, as a wall of brasse, be found as hard.
Men are by Nature apt to blame, and hate
such as distaste what they approue as good:
If thou dislike to heare a Parrat prate,
and tell a tedious tale of Robin-hood;
He'le shoot Detractions boult against thy braine,
terming it shallow, barren, poore and dull;
Because not vented by a windy vaine,
empt'ing it selfe to make thy mouth shew full.
But wiser men then he assures thee no;

Loquacitas certissimū fatuitatis argumētum Eras.

They are most fooles (say they) that vse most words:
That silence argues folly, 'tis not so;
for vertues branches no such fruite affords.
Admit a Turke should call thee Infidell;
wouldst be offended? or imagine, that
One dubbe thee knaue, in whose owne heart doth dwell
basenesse enough, to make him wondred at
By all that know him? shall the first perswade thee,
that thy Religion knowes more Gods then one;

Or to denie the sacred power that made thee,
or t'giue his honour to a carued stone?
Or can the second force thee to confesse
through his report, thou art as base as he?
If none of these thou wilt, their power's the lesse,
thy worth the more by their detracting thee.
An honest fame (like spice) the more 'tis brus'd
sauours the sweeter, which when we are dead
Will be the sweetest seare-cloath can be vs'd
to wrap vs in; it will out-last the lead
Wherein that bodie lies, in which did liue
a spotted conscience, a detracting spirit;
Which to it selfe an earthly heauen did giue,
and of Heauens ioyes it selfe did disinherite.

TO THE DETRACTER.

Think'st thou it makes thy Reputation faire,
if by thy muddy tongue thou canst impaire
An other mans? looke how a murtherer can
(whose fatall hand shall kill an other man)
Adde to his owne by shortning others daies;
so by detracting others growes by praise.
Perchance thou feed'st thy selfe with a conceipt,
that euery man that heares thee raile, doth straite
Belieue that all thou sayst is true, for that
they contradict thee not; Ile tell thee what,
In my opinion thou shouldst rather feare,
it makes them tremble and amaz'd to heare,
How diu'lishly thou second'st what thou say'st
with oaths, and curses; or admit thou mai'st
Light vpon some who (knowing not thy vse)
may be perswaded, that from some abuse
Offer'd to thee, proceeds thy railing fit:
Yet all the glory thou enioy'st by it
Is, they'le note thee euer after, for
a creature which all good men should abhorre.
Or say thou shalt some man, to some depraue
who know him honest; think'st thou for a knaue
They can do lesse then iudge thee? and beware
thou rayl'st to no men that iuditious are:
For they'le soone finde that thou dishonest art,
and therefore know thou tak'st no good mans part:

Whose prayse they iudge is equally the same,
Where Iust men doe applaud, or thou defame.
I might haue spar'd my breath in wishing thee
to men of iudgement not to be too free;
For thou art chiefly carefull in this point
to plie his eare whose iudgement's out of ioynt:
By whom as yet was neuer vnderstood
how any cause could, but the first, be good;
Whose ignorance (I thinke) might argue rather
Th'Vicar of fooles will prooue their ghostly father.
And as for thee, thou dost resolue I know
thou must die mad, thy braine's distemperd so.
Which will be for thy credit when thou'rt dead:
for some will lay the fault vpon thy head,
And say thy braine inforc'd thy tongue to raue.
Better be thought a mad-man then a knaue.

FINIS.

Qui ducis vultus, & non legis ista libenter,
Omnibus iuuideas liuide, nemo tibi.

Mart.