 | Works of John Taylor the Water Poet not included in the folio volume of 1630 |  |
4. FOURTH COLLECTION
1
TAYLORS ARITHMETICKE,
From One to Twelve.
0 00 000 0000 00000 000000
In the first line, you Cyphers onely see,
10 100 1000 10000 100000 1000000.
But (adding one) they more then Cyphers be;
And take that one from them, what are they then?
Just nothing (Cyphers) as they were agen.
So some who were but Cyphers in estate,
One set before them rais'd them to some rate,
To tens, to hundreds, thousands, thousands ten,
From Cyphers unto millions, mounted men.
One Rais'd up numbers, numbers layd one low;
Thus (with Vicissitude) goes weale and woe:
Now that one's gone, some are left bare and poor,
Just nothing, Cyphers; wanting One before.
And is it but for One we make this moan?
(Before us now are many more then One)
But One did make me something, then I had
Supportance from One, to be fed and clad;
But many (many sinnes) a Cypher made me:
Just nothing (nothing) ten yeares hath been payd me.
Coyne is mans earthly life, lifes Nerves and Sinnewes,
And I should have some from the Crowns Revenues,
For which I've su'd, and su'd, but have it not;
The fault's not mine, tis my unlucky lot.
And I might seek again (if I were mad)
And have as much as formerly I had.
Were I as free from want, as cleare from hate,
I would not with an Alderman change state:
But cares, and wants, in Troups Assault me thick,
Past numbring with my poore Arithmetick.
Thus upon One a little I have playd,
Yet more of One a little must be said.
The Fathers One, One likewise is the Sonne,
The Holy Ghost One, and all 3 but One.
One Faith there is, (he that hath two hath none)
And in the Firmament One Sun, One Moone.
Man hath One soule, One Corps, One head, One brain,
One tongue, One heart, (some very Knaves have twain)
One Life, (one span) if one inch more it be,
It stretches to unmeasur'd misery:
The World's but one, and that's a Cipher Round,
And nothing but a Cipher twill be found,
All shall lose, All do lose, all have lost,
Who shall, doth, hath, the false world trusted most.
If in Jerusalem One man had bin,
That had lov'd God, and striv'd to shun all sin,
Th'Almighty on them would compassion take,
And spare the City for that one mans sake;
But as the Psalmist truly made his moane,
The Lord beheld none doth good, no not ONE.
In the first line, you Cyphers onely see,
10 100 1000 10000 100000 1000000.
But (adding one) they more then Cyphers be;
And take that one from them, what are they then?
Just nothing (Cyphers) as they were agen.
So some who were but Cyphers in estate,
One set before them rais'd them to some rate,
To tens, to hundreds, thousands, thousands ten,
From Cyphers unto millions, mounted men.
One Rais'd up numbers, numbers layd one low;
Thus (with Vicissitude) goes weale and woe:
Now that one's gone, some are left bare and poor,
Just nothing, Cyphers; wanting One before.
And is it but for One we make this moan?
(Before us now are many more then One)
But One did make me something, then I had
Supportance from One, to be fed and clad;
But many (many sinnes) a Cypher made me:
Just nothing (nothing) ten yeares hath been payd me.
Coyne is mans earthly life, lifes Nerves and Sinnewes,
And I should have some from the Crowns Revenues,
For which I've su'd, and su'd, but have it not;
The fault's not mine, tis my unlucky lot.
And I might seek again (if I were mad)
And have as much as formerly I had.
Were I as free from want, as cleare from hate,
I would not with an Alderman change state:
But cares, and wants, in Troups Assault me thick,
Past numbring with my poore Arithmetick.
2
Yet more of One a little must be said.
The Fathers One, One likewise is the Sonne,
The Holy Ghost One, and all 3 but One.
One Faith there is, (he that hath two hath none)
And in the Firmament One Sun, One Moone.
Man hath One soule, One Corps, One head, One brain,
One tongue, One heart, (some very Knaves have twain)
One Life, (one span) if one inch more it be,
It stretches to unmeasur'd misery:
The World's but one, and that's a Cipher Round,
And nothing but a Cipher twill be found,
All shall lose, All do lose, all have lost,
Who shall, doth, hath, the false world trusted most.
If in Jerusalem One man had bin,
That had lov'd God, and striv'd to shun all sin,
Th'Almighty on them would compassion take,
And spare the City for that one mans sake;
But as the Psalmist truly made his moane,
The Lord beheld none doth good, no not ONE.
Two Natures the most High, most Blest did beare,
The Godhead great, and Manhood pure and cleare,
Man hath two substances, both soyl'd, and fowle,
(A body cloy'd with crimes, a sinfull soule)
He hath 2 Eyes to see, 2 Eares to heare,
Two hands to work, 2 legs the rest to beare,
He hath 2 choises, Life, Death, good, or ill,
(Yet hath no free will to chuse which he will)
He that can only will and do, can arme
Mans will to chuse the good, and shun the harme.
Two Lives, 2 Deaths, 2 temporall, two eternall,
Two wayes from hence, Cœlestiall, and Infernall.
I could speak more of 2, and more of one,
But 3 calls for me, and I must be gone.
The Godhead great, and Manhood pure and cleare,
Man hath two substances, both soyl'd, and fowle,
(A body cloy'd with crimes, a sinfull soule)
He hath 2 Eyes to see, 2 Eares to heare,
Two hands to work, 2 legs the rest to beare,
He hath 2 choises, Life, Death, good, or ill,
(Yet hath no free will to chuse which he will)
He that can only will and do, can arme
Mans will to chuse the good, and shun the harme.
Two Lives, 2 Deaths, 2 temporall, two eternall,
Two wayes from hence, Cœlestiall, and Infernall.
I could speak more of 2, and more of one,
But 3 calls for me, and I must be gone.
Three is the Blessed Trinity, and I
Do beg the Blessing of that Trinity.
Three times the Apostle Paul with rods was beaten
And 3 times suffred Shipwrack, death did threaten
Three are the Graces Theologicall,
(Or Vertues call'd Divine Cœlestiall)
Faith is the Creed, and who so holds that fast
Hope (the Lords Prayer) Gods Gift will Crown at last,
And Charity obediently presents
Her service in the ten Commandements:
These 3 are th'Handmaides of salvation;
These guide men what to doe, or leave undone.
Do beg the Blessing of that Trinity.
Three times the Apostle Paul with rods was beaten
And 3 times suffred Shipwrack, death did threaten
3
(Or Vertues call'd Divine Cœlestiall)
Faith is the Creed, and who so holds that fast
Hope (the Lords Prayer) Gods Gift will Crown at last,
And Charity obediently presents
Her service in the ten Commandements:
These 3 are th'Handmaides of salvation;
These guide men what to doe, or leave undone.
The 4 Evangelists, the Story pen'd
Of him who nere began, and ne're shall end:
His low descending, his high Pedigree,
His Innocence, wondrous works, and misery,
His suffrings, and his bitter Death and Passion,
To free poore Sinners from deserv'd Damnation.
Foure Vertues Cardinall, Justice, Fortitude,
Prudence, and Temperance, these 4 include:
All mans perfection here, from these proceeds
Th'effects of our best thoughts, our words, and deeds.
Foure quarters of the world, are Asia,
With Affrick, Europe, and America.
Foure Windes ('mongst thirty two) are most exprest,
North, Sols East rising, South, and Sun-set West.
Foure seasons round about the year doth bring,
The Summer, Autumne, Winter, and the Spring.
Foure Elements, Fire, Water, Earth are three,
And th'Aire (unseen) which no man ere did see.
Foure dispositions, Drye, Moist, Hot, and Cold.
Foure strange Complexions (humorous manifold,)
Intemperate, Sanguine, Lazy Phlegmatick,
Sad, mad, melancholy, Rash, Cholerick,
And various mixtures of those 4 Complexions,
Possesseth us with contrary affections;
And which of these 4 humours are most in us,
The same to Vice or Vertue still doth win us;
And were there not worse Knaves then 4 ith' Cards,
I mean no Dukes, or Dons, or Lords, or Lards)
The grieved peoples plaints had not been such,
And Englands miseries not half so much
Thus having done with 4, I think it meet.
To fall to work on 5 to fill my sheet.
Of him who nere began, and ne're shall end:
His low descending, his high Pedigree,
His Innocence, wondrous works, and misery,
His suffrings, and his bitter Death and Passion,
To free poore Sinners from deserv'd Damnation.
Foure Vertues Cardinall, Justice, Fortitude,
Prudence, and Temperance, these 4 include:
All mans perfection here, from these proceeds
Th'effects of our best thoughts, our words, and deeds.
Foure quarters of the world, are Asia,
With Affrick, Europe, and America.
Foure Windes ('mongst thirty two) are most exprest,
North, Sols East rising, South, and Sun-set West.
Foure seasons round about the year doth bring,
The Summer, Autumne, Winter, and the Spring.
Foure Elements, Fire, Water, Earth are three,
And th'Aire (unseen) which no man ere did see.
Foure dispositions, Drye, Moist, Hot, and Cold.
Foure strange Complexions (humorous manifold,)
Intemperate, Sanguine, Lazy Phlegmatick,
Sad, mad, melancholy, Rash, Cholerick,
And various mixtures of those 4 Complexions,
Possesseth us with contrary affections;
And which of these 4 humours are most in us,
The same to Vice or Vertue still doth win us;
And were there not worse Knaves then 4 ith' Cards,
I mean no Dukes, or Dons, or Lords, or Lards)
The grieved peoples plaints had not been such,
And Englands miseries not half so much
4
To fall to work on 5 to fill my sheet.
Blest He (whose Grace and Glory hath no bounds)
For's Enemies receiv'd 5 mortall wounds.
Curst He that with both tongue and teeth doth teare
That glorious name, and by those Wounds doe sweare
And forsweare too, those cursed sonnes of Caine,
Doe crucifie Christ every day againe.
He that's the Bread of life, the living Bread,
He that five thousand men with five loaves fed,
He whom 5 Virgins wisely waited on,
With Oyle in Lamps: 5 foolish ones had none.
Five sences in our bodies he hath plac'd,
To Heare, to See, to smell, to Touch, to Taste;
But all those sences senceles men doe use,
The Gracious giver of them to abuse.
Men never more cruell mercilesse,
Never more Pride, or vaine voluptuousnesse;
Hypocrisie is mask'd in Robes of Zeale,
And Avarice preyes on this Nations weale.
Blinde Fortune (in her Wisedome) thought it fit,
To give some all, and many ne're a whit;
Though times are dangerous for an honest man;
With Gods help I'le passe through all as I can.
And thus my fingers 5 doe make an end
With 5, because on 6 I must attent.
For's Enemies receiv'd 5 mortall wounds.
Curst He that with both tongue and teeth doth teare
That glorious name, and by those Wounds doe sweare
And forsweare too, those cursed sonnes of Caine,
Doe crucifie Christ every day againe.
He that's the Bread of life, the living Bread,
He that five thousand men with five loaves fed,
He whom 5 Virgins wisely waited on,
With Oyle in Lamps: 5 foolish ones had none.
Five sences in our bodies he hath plac'd,
To Heare, to See, to smell, to Touch, to Taste;
But all those sences senceles men doe use,
The Gracious giver of them to abuse.
Men never more cruell mercilesse,
Never more Pride, or vaine voluptuousnesse;
Hypocrisie is mask'd in Robes of Zeale,
And Avarice preyes on this Nations weale.
Blinde Fortune (in her Wisedome) thought it fit,
To give some all, and many ne're a whit;
Though times are dangerous for an honest man;
With Gods help I'le passe through all as I can.
And thus my fingers 5 doe make an end
With 5, because on 6 I must attent.
Sixe I'le be breef with, for my minde I fixe,
To write more large of 7, and short of sixe.
Six dayes th'Almighty did preordinate,
To be the time the whole world to create:
He said but Let there be, and every thing
Was made for man, and he made man sole King
Of all the Creatures, but he quickly fell,
He against God Rebel'd, all things Rebell
Against him for it, h'hath lost both Grace, and place,
In Paradice, and all his wretched Race
Unto his sinne Originall are Heires,
Increas'd still with the actuall sinnes of theirs,
For which the Curse was, Man his bread should eate,
With 6 dayes work in 7, with toyle and sweat.
To write more large of 7, and short of sixe.
Six dayes th'Almighty did preordinate,
To be the time the whole world to create:
He said but Let there be, and every thing
Was made for man, and he made man sole King
Of all the Creatures, but he quickly fell,
He against God Rebel'd, all things Rebell
Against him for it, h'hath lost both Grace, and place,
In Paradice, and all his wretched Race
Unto his sinne Originall are Heires,
Increas'd still with the actuall sinnes of theirs,
5
With 6 dayes work in 7, with toyle and sweat.
Since the Creation still (from Age to Age)
Seven is a number of most high presage:
Amongst all dayes the seventh was chiefest blest,
A resting Sabboth, type of endlesse Rest.
The Plannets (in their Revolutions) seven.
The 7 stars in the Firmament of Heaven.
Pharaohs 7 (dream'd) leane Kine devowr'd 7 fat,
And want and plenty Joseph found by that.
Yea more then forty times Leviticus
Doth in 6 Chapters mention 7 to us.
Six times Eliah's man went out in vaine,
He went the seventh time, and brought newes of Raine.
Seven Priests, 7 times did with 7 Trumpets blow,
And then fell downe the Walls of Jericho.
King David 7 times every day did praise
The Lord for's Judgements just, and righteous waies.
Th'Assyrian Naaman (at the Prophets word)
Did wash himselfe 7 times in Jordans Ford,
Because he did the Seers command obey,
His loathsome Leprosie was cur'd straightway.
The Widdowes 7 sonnes in the Maccabees,
In lives, and deaths Renown'd for constancies.
Petitions 7 taught by our Lord Supernall,
Include all blessings, temporall and eternall.
Christ (in compassion) in his Passions griefe,
Spake 7 sweet words to the believing Thiefe;
Then he who payd our great Redemptions price,
Said, This day shalt thou be in Paradice:
These 7 words were Cœlestiall Gileads Balme,
Mid'st stormes of Death and Hell, a blessed calme.
One said to Christ, shall I forgive him free,
That hath done 7 offences against mee?
The answer was, those that will happy live,
Must 7 and seventy times (and more) forgive:
Thus Seven times seventy plainly doth expresse,
If man remit, God quits sinnes numberlesse.
Seven Asian Churches in the Revelation,
Seven Angels in them to preach mans salvation.
Seven golden Candlesticks, with heavenly light,
To guide us from the wrong way to the right:
These sevens and many more each man may view,
In Gods two Testaments, the old and new.
Man hath seven Ages, first his Infancy,
Puerillity, Mans state, Youth, Gravity,
Old age, and state decrepit, these seven are,
From Birth to buriall our appointed share;
And every seaventh yeare we may justly call
Our lifes division Climactericall:
And nine times seven, of yeares are sixty-three,
Mans dangerous Age, and death, as oft we see.
And ten times Seaven amounts to seventimes ten,
Just Davids spanne the Common Age of Men:
Thrice seven yeares past that time, some may survive,
Till griefe and sorrow unto death them drive.
Seven are the Sciences, so call'd indeed,
Because from them all other Arts proceed.
Seaven are the deadly sinnes, whose Root and stem
Grew first in Hell, and all sinnes else from them.
Seven were the wisest men ere Gotham had;
But England hath seven thousand sevens as mad.
Seven Sages once in Greece Renown'd, admir'd,
For wisedome (in these times not much desir'd.)
Rome once had seven wise Masters, they are dead,
Seven thousand Knaves and Fooles left in their stead.
Seven wonders had the World since it began;
But the eighth wonder were a righteous man.
Seven Saxon Kings this Kingdome once obey'd,
But ne're had Peace till one the Scepter sway'd.
Of Sacraments the Roman Church hath seven:
Here onely two directs the way to Heaven.
A holy Prophet long agoe foretold,
Seven women should upon one man take hold;
Which Prophesie is very neere fulfilld,
By bloody wars thousands of men are kill'd.
By Sea and Land Death doth to men befall,
Besides the common way that's naturall;
Males are in multitudes of life bereft,
That one man for seaven Women's scarcely left.
The seaven Electors, at an Emperours choise,
Are seven to make up a prevailing Voice.
Seaven yeares Apprentiship the Law ordain'd,
Whereby men have their freedoms here obtain'd.
Seven is a number of most high presage:
Amongst all dayes the seventh was chiefest blest,
A resting Sabboth, type of endlesse Rest.
The Plannets (in their Revolutions) seven.
The 7 stars in the Firmament of Heaven.
Pharaohs 7 (dream'd) leane Kine devowr'd 7 fat,
And want and plenty Joseph found by that.
Yea more then forty times Leviticus
Doth in 6 Chapters mention 7 to us.
Six times Eliah's man went out in vaine,
He went the seventh time, and brought newes of Raine.
Seven Priests, 7 times did with 7 Trumpets blow,
And then fell downe the Walls of Jericho.
King David 7 times every day did praise
The Lord for's Judgements just, and righteous waies.
Th'Assyrian Naaman (at the Prophets word)
Did wash himselfe 7 times in Jordans Ford,
Because he did the Seers command obey,
His loathsome Leprosie was cur'd straightway.
The Widdowes 7 sonnes in the Maccabees,
In lives, and deaths Renown'd for constancies.
Petitions 7 taught by our Lord Supernall,
Include all blessings, temporall and eternall.
Christ (in compassion) in his Passions griefe,
Spake 7 sweet words to the believing Thiefe;
Then he who payd our great Redemptions price,
Said, This day shalt thou be in Paradice:
These 7 words were Cœlestiall Gileads Balme,
Mid'st stormes of Death and Hell, a blessed calme.
One said to Christ, shall I forgive him free,
That hath done 7 offences against mee?
The answer was, those that will happy live,
Must 7 and seventy times (and more) forgive:
Thus Seven times seventy plainly doth expresse,
If man remit, God quits sinnes numberlesse.
6
Seven Angels in them to preach mans salvation.
Seven golden Candlesticks, with heavenly light,
To guide us from the wrong way to the right:
These sevens and many more each man may view,
In Gods two Testaments, the old and new.
Man hath seven Ages, first his Infancy,
Puerillity, Mans state, Youth, Gravity,
Old age, and state decrepit, these seven are,
From Birth to buriall our appointed share;
And every seaventh yeare we may justly call
Our lifes division Climactericall:
And nine times seven, of yeares are sixty-three,
Mans dangerous Age, and death, as oft we see.
And ten times Seaven amounts to seventimes ten,
Just Davids spanne the Common Age of Men:
Thrice seven yeares past that time, some may survive,
Till griefe and sorrow unto death them drive.
Seven are the Sciences, so call'd indeed,
Because from them all other Arts proceed.
Seaven are the deadly sinnes, whose Root and stem
Grew first in Hell, and all sinnes else from them.
Seven were the wisest men ere Gotham had;
But England hath seven thousand sevens as mad.
Seven Sages once in Greece Renown'd, admir'd,
For wisedome (in these times not much desir'd.)
Rome once had seven wise Masters, they are dead,
Seven thousand Knaves and Fooles left in their stead.
Seven wonders had the World since it began;
But the eighth wonder were a righteous man.
Seven Saxon Kings this Kingdome once obey'd,
But ne're had Peace till one the Scepter sway'd.
Of Sacraments the Roman Church hath seven:
Here onely two directs the way to Heaven.
A holy Prophet long agoe foretold,
Seven women should upon one man take hold;
Which Prophesie is very neere fulfilld,
By bloody wars thousands of men are kill'd.
7
Besides the common way that's naturall;
Males are in multitudes of life bereft,
That one man for seaven Women's scarcely left.
The seaven Electors, at an Emperours choise,
Are seven to make up a prevailing Voice.
Seaven yeares Apprentiship the Law ordain'd,
Whereby men have their freedoms here obtain'd.
When the old world was drown'd, 8 then surviv'd,
And from those 8 the new World was deriv'd.
And from those 8 the new World was deriv'd.
Tis plainly and undoubtedly exprest,
Nine sorts of People certainly are best.
Ingratitude 9 Leapers did defile,
Their Leaprosie was not so loathsome Vile.
Nine are the Muses and the Poets blisse,
They make him sing, his minde a Kingdome is;
But in that Kingdome's not one foot of ground,
Or any thing esteem'd if it be found;
The pur-blinde world, and Fortune holds it fit,
That Reverend wealth should make a Foole of Wit;
Because each Poet wants a good Mecenas,
I live and lack, and wander like a leane Asse.
Nine sorts of People certainly are best.
Ingratitude 9 Leapers did defile,
Their Leaprosie was not so loathsome Vile.
Nine are the Muses and the Poets blisse,
They make him sing, his minde a Kingdome is;
But in that Kingdome's not one foot of ground,
Or any thing esteem'd if it be found;
The pur-blinde world, and Fortune holds it fit,
That Reverend wealth should make a Foole of Wit;
Because each Poet wants a good Mecenas,
I live and lack, and wander like a leane Asse.
The 10 Commandements, are the Law Divine,
(To keep those Lawes, Good Lord our hearts incline;)
But from those 10, should 10 men each pluck one,
Tis to be feard that left we should have none.
The Atheist (which the Psalmist foole doth call)
As he believes will have no God at all.
Th'Idolater will stock, block, Idols have
To save him, though themselves they cannot save.
The Roarer that delights to damne and sweare,
From the Commandemants he the third would teare,
The Sabbath-breaker would pluck out the fourth,
The fifth (with Rebels) is of little worth,
The sixth the Murtherer would stab and wound,
The seventh the hot Adult'rer would confound,
The Thiefe would steale the eighth away, and then
False Witnesse spoile the ninth: and for the ten,
The Wretch thats Covetous would rend and bite,
And pluck the rest in pieces if he might.
Thus would these 10 (this cursed Catalogue)
Each race out one, and spoyle the Decalogue.
(To keep those Lawes, Good Lord our hearts incline;)
But from those 10, should 10 men each pluck one,
Tis to be feard that left we should have none.
The Atheist (which the Psalmist foole doth call)
As he believes will have no God at all.
Th'Idolater will stock, block, Idols have
To save him, though themselves they cannot save.
The Roarer that delights to damne and sweare,
From the Commandemants he the third would teare,
The Sabbath-breaker would pluck out the fourth,
The fifth (with Rebels) is of little worth,
The sixth the Murtherer would stab and wound,
The seventh the hot Adult'rer would confound,
The Thiefe would steale the eighth away, and then
False Witnesse spoile the ninth: and for the ten,
8
And pluck the rest in pieces if he might.
Thus would these 10 (this cursed Catalogue)
Each race out one, and spoyle the Decalogue.
Man seemes to know (by Art and study great)
Eleven long steps from th'Earth to Gods blest seat:
The first step to the Moone, and secondly,
He mounts unto the sphere of Mercury:
The third staire he to Venus Orbe doth soare:
And fourthly, to the Sunne make one step more:
The fifth to Mars, the sixth to Jupiter:
The seventh to Melancholy Saturns sphere:
Eighthly to th'fixed stars h'ascends on high:
And ninthly to the Primum Mobile:
The tenth step to the Heav'n cal'd Christalline:
And last, where never ending glories shine.
Here's knowledge with mans Ignorance so tainted,
He nothing knowes, nor with himselfe's acquainted.
Eleven long steps from th'Earth to Gods blest seat:
The first step to the Moone, and secondly,
He mounts unto the sphere of Mercury:
The third staire he to Venus Orbe doth soare:
And fourthly, to the Sunne make one step more:
The fifth to Mars, the sixth to Jupiter:
The seventh to Melancholy Saturns sphere:
Eighthly to th'fixed stars h'ascends on high:
And ninthly to the Primum Mobile:
The tenth step to the Heav'n cal'd Christalline:
And last, where never ending glories shine.
Here's knowledge with mans Ignorance so tainted,
He nothing knowes, nor with himselfe's acquainted.
Twelve Patriarks, 12 Prophets, and 12 Tribes,
These sacred twelves the holy Writ describes.
Twelve Gates hath heavenly new Jerusalem,
Each Gate's a whole Perle (vnvalued Jem:)
Twelve thousand furlongs, the Walls are, foure square,
And in each square 3 of those Pearle Gates are.
Twelve Angels, 12 Apostles, 12 Foundations,
That all Believers from all Lands and Nations
May enter there, from North, South, East, and West,
And there be glorifi'd with endlesse Rest:
God grant the Writer, and this Reader may
Keepe there an everlasting Holy-day.
Those blessed Twelves, in 12 lines I have pen'd,
And thus my poore Arithmetick doth
These sacred twelves the holy Writ describes.
Twelve Gates hath heavenly new Jerusalem,
Each Gate's a whole Perle (vnvalued Jem:)
Twelve thousand furlongs, the Walls are, foure square,
And in each square 3 of those Pearle Gates are.
Twelve Angels, 12 Apostles, 12 Foundations,
That all Believers from all Lands and Nations
May enter there, from North, South, East, and West,
And there be glorifi'd with endlesse Rest:
God grant the Writer, and this Reader may
Keepe there an everlasting Holy-day.
Those blessed Twelves, in 12 lines I have pen'd,
And thus my poore Arithmetick doth
END.
1
A MOST LEARNED AND Eloquent Speech, spoken (or delivered in the Honourable House of Commons at VVestminster,) by the most Learned Lawyer Miles Corbet Esquire, Recorder of great Yarmouth, and Burgesse of the same, on the 32 day of July last, taken in short hand by Nockey and Tom Dunne his Clarkes, and revised by John Taylor.
3
[Ten thousand (such as we) can ne're devise]
Ten thousand (such as we) can ne're deviseA booke so good, as that which we despise,
(The Common Prayer they meane) if we should sit,
Ten thousand yeares, with all our braines and wit,
We should prove Coxcombs all, and in the end,
Leave it as 'tis, too good for us to mend.
THE HONORABLE, AND MEMORABLE Foundations, Erections, Raisings, and Ruines, of divers Cities, Townes, Castles, and other Pieces of Antiquitie, within ten Shires and Counties of this Kingdome
21
[Kind friend, as thou didst once the favour gaine]
Kind friend, as thou didst once the favour gaine,Great Britaines Mightie Prince to entertaine;
So entertaine these Verses I have penn'd,
As my remembrance unto thee my friend:
Thou knowst (by old experience) that I love thee;
And if thou lov'st mee, I will one day prove thee.
22
The complaint of M, Tenter-hooke the Proiector, and Sir Thomas Dodger the Patentee.
If any aske, what things these Monsters be,
Tis a Projector, and a Patentee:
Such, as like Vermine or'e this Land did crawle,
And grew sorich, they'gaind the Devill and all.
Tis a Projector, and a Patentee:
Such, as like Vermine or'e this Land did crawle,
And grew sorich, they'gaind the Devill and all.
Loe I, that lately was a Man of Fashion,
The Bug-beare and Scarcrow of this Nation,
T'h admired mighty Mounte-banke of Fame,
The Juggling Hocus-Pocus of good name,
The Bull-begger, who did affright and feare,
Now Time hath pluck'd the Vizard from my face,
I am the onely Image of disgrace.
My ugly shape I hid so cunningly
(Close cover'd with the cloake of honesty)
That from the East to West, from South to North,
I was a man esteem'd of ex'lent worth.
And (sweet Sir Thomas Dodger) for your sake,
My studious time I spent, my sleepes I brake,
My braines I tost, with many a strange vagary,
And (like a Spanniell) did both fetch and carry,
To you, such Projects, as I could invent,
Not thinking there would come a Parliament.
I was the Great Projector, and from me,
Your Worship learn'd to be a Patentee,
I had the Art to cheat the Common-weale,
And you had tricks and slights to passe the Seale.
I tooke the paines, I travell'd, search'd and sought,
Which (by your power) were into Patents wrought.
What was I but your journey-man, I pray,
To bring your worke to you, both night and day:
I found Stuffe, and you brought it so about
You (like a skilfull Taylor) cut it out,
And fashion'd it, but now (to our displeasure)
You fail'd exceedingly in taking measure.
My legs were Screwes, to raise thee high or low,
According as your power did Ebbe or Flow.
And at your will I was Screwd up too high
That tott'ring, I have broke my necke thereby.
For you, I made my Fingers fish-hookes still
To catch at all Trades, either good or ill,
I car'd not much who lost, so we might get,
For all was Fish that came into the Net.
For you (as in my Picture plaine appeares)
I put a Swines face on, an Asses cares,
The one to listen unto all I heard
Wherein your worships profit was prefer'd.
The other to tast all things, good or bad
(As Hogs will doe) where profit may be had.
Soape, Starch, Tobacco, Pipes, Pins, Butter, Haye,
Wine, Coales, Cards, Dice, and all came in my way,
I brought your worship, every day and houre,
And hope to be defended by your power.
The Bug-beare and Scarcrow of this Nation,
T'h admired mighty Mounte-banke of Fame,
The Juggling Hocus-Pocus of good name,
The Bull-begger, who did affright and feare,
Now Time hath pluck'd the Vizard from my face,
I am the onely Image of disgrace.
My ugly shape I hid so cunningly
(Close cover'd with the cloake of honesty)
That from the East to West, from South to North,
I was a man esteem'd of ex'lent worth.
And (sweet Sir Thomas Dodger) for your sake,
My studious time I spent, my sleepes I brake,
My braines I tost, with many a strange vagary,
And (like a Spanniell) did both fetch and carry,
To you, such Projects, as I could invent,
Not thinking there would come a Parliament.
I was the Great Projector, and from me,
Your Worship learn'd to be a Patentee,
I had the Art to cheat the Common-weale,
And you had tricks and slights to passe the Seale.
I tooke the paines, I travell'd, search'd and sought,
Which (by your power) were into Patents wrought.
What was I but your journey-man, I pray,
To bring your worke to you, both night and day:
I found Stuffe, and you brought it so about
You (like a skilfull Taylor) cut it out,
And fashion'd it, but now (to our displeasure)
You fail'd exceedingly in taking measure.
My legs were Screwes, to raise thee high or low,
According as your power did Ebbe or Flow.
And at your will I was Screwd up too high
That tott'ring, I have broke my necke thereby.
For you, I made my Fingers fish-hookes still
To catch at all Trades, either good or ill,
I car'd not much who lost, so we might get,
For all was Fish that came into the Net.
For you (as in my Picture plaine appeares)
I put a Swines face on, an Asses cares,
The one to listen unto all I heard
Wherein your worships profit was prefer'd.
The other to tast all things, good or bad
(As Hogs will doe) where profit may be had.
Soape, Starch, Tobacco, Pipes, Pins, Butter, Haye,
Wine, Coales, Cards, Dice, and all came in my way,
I brought your worship, every day and houre,
And hope to be defended by your power.
Sir Thomas Dodgers Answer.
Alas good Tenter-hooke, I tell thee plaine,Too seeke for helpe of me tis but in vaine:
My Patent, which I stood upon of late,
Is like an Almanacke that's out of Date.
'T'had force and vertue once, strange things to doe,
But now it wants both force and vertue too:
his was the turne of whirling Fortunes wheele,
When we least dream'd we should her changing feele.
Then Time, and fortune, both with joynt consent
Brought us to ruine by a Parliament:
Which now I find were but alluring baits,
And I (to much an Asse) did lend my eare,
To credit all thou saydst, as well as heare.
Thou in the Project of the Soape didst toyle,
But 'twas so slippery, and too full of oyle,
That people wondred how we held it fast,
But now it is quite slipp'd from us at last.
The Project for the Starch thy wit found out,
Twas stiffe awhile, now limber as a Clout,
The Pagan weede (Tobacco) was our hope
In Leafe, Pricke, Role, Ball, Pudding, Pipe, or Rope.
Brasseele, Varina, Meavis, Trinidado,
Saint Christophers, Virginia, or Barvado;
Bermudas, Providentia, Shallowcongo,
And the most part of all the rest (Mundungo)
That Patent, with a whiffe is spent and broke,
And all our hopes (in fumo) turn'd to smoake.
Thou framdst the Butter Patent in thy braines,
(A rope and butter take thee for thy paines)
I had forgot Tobacco-pipes, which are
Now like to thou and I, but brittle ware.
Dice run against us, we at Cards are crost,
We both are turn'd up Noddies, and all's lost.
Thus from Sice-sinke, we'r sunke below Dewce-ace,
And both of us are Impes of black disgrace.
Pins pricke us, and Wine frets our very hearts,
That we have rais'd the price of Pints and Quarts.
Thou (in mine eares) thy lyes and tales didst foyst,
And madst me up the price of Sea-coales hoyst.
Corne, Leather, Partrich, Pheasant, Rags, Gold-twist,
Thou brought'st all to my Mill, what was't we mist?
Weights, Bonlace, Mowstraps, new, new, Corporation,
Rattles, Seadans, of rare invented fashions,
Silke, Tallow, Hobby-horses, Wood, red-herring,
Law, Conscience, Iustice, swearing, and For-swearing.
All these thou broughtst to me, and still I thought,
That every thing was good that profit brought,
But now all's found to be ill gotten pelfe,
I'le shift for one, doe thou shift for thy selfe.
John Taylor.
Finis.
Englands Comfort, and Londons Ioy: Expressed in the Royall, Triumphant, and Magnificent Entertainment of our Dread Soveraigne Lord, King Charles, at his blessed and safe returne from Scotland, on Thursday the 25. of Novem. 1641.
7
Verses Presented to his Majesty.
When Israel with Judah did contest,Which of them ought to love King David best;
Iudah claim'd Kindred of the King, and said
That he (by Right) should still with them have staid:
But Isr'el boldly to them straite reply'd,
That David (onely) was with them t'abide;
And that in him they had ten parts, (at least)
And therefore had most Right and Interest.
These words caus'd wicked Sheba, (Bichri's Son)
Most madly to rebellious Armes to run;
But Sheba's head, which first contriv'd those jarrs)
Was lop'd, and so was ended all the warrs.
I wish Great Britaine the like Song to sing
In love, who best shall love and serve the King:
Let Sheba's head be lost, and let us be,
England, and Scotland, both in Vnity.
Hee's Ours and Theirs, and he is Theirs and Ours,
Let's love and serve him, with our Prayers, and Powers;
That as the King is one, so we as one
May praise God, for establishing his Throne.
When He, (our Svnne of joy) from us set forth
His Raies illustrious, lightned all the North:
Whilst sighes like Clouds, and showers of Teares & Cares,
Was Londons, and faire Englands Southerne shares.
But this returne our sadnesse doth destroy,
Our Teares of griefe are turn'd to Teares of joy;
Our Night of woe, we patiently endur'd,
Our Mornings joy is come we are assur'd.
Hee's come to salve this Kingdomes discontents,
To cure all wrenches, fractures, spraines and rents,
Where Church, and Common Wealth is dislocated;
And all good men amazed and amated.
Gods Great Lieutenant, foure great Kingdomes King,
No doubt but he those mischifes downe shall ding
To Hells blacke Vault, from whence they first assended,
And with a blessed pleace, all strife be ended.
8
Verses presented to the Kings own Hand by Iohn Taylor.
In Ovids Metamorphosis I findeTransformed Formes, and strange mishapen Shapes;
Of humane transmutations from their Kind
To Wolves, to Beares, to Doggs, to Pyes, to Apes;
Yet these were but Poeticall escapes,
(Or Moralizing of unnat'rall deeds)
To shew that Treasons, Murders, Incests, Rapes,
From Beastiall minds, (in humane formes) proceeds
But through thy power (which my poore Muse inflames)
A greater Wonder is perform'd by me:
I have transform'd a Boat from off the Thames,
Vnto a Horse, to come to welcome thee.
And now thy Gracious sight I doe attaine,
Ile turne that Horse into a Boat againe:
And all whom thy returne doth not delight,
Let them be hang'd, and then they have their right.
FINIS.
A Reply as true as Steele, To a Rusty, Rayling, Ridiculous, Lying Libell; which was lately written by an impudent unsoder'd Ironmonger and called by the name of An Answer to a foolish Pamphlet Entituled, A Swarme of Sectaries and Schismatiques.
The Divell is hard bound and did hardly straine,
To shit a Libeller a knave in graine.
To shit a Libeller a knave in graine.
3
(Begot by Tripleheaded Cerberus)
No 'tis a pretty Puppy, with one head,
A Red haird whelpe, that can both Write and Read,
Sprung from the devill and a mad Dun Cow,
Nurse in a Dunghill where he suck'd a Sowe,
This Amsterdam'd cur, hath strange Libels flirted
And much fowle Inke besquitterid and Besquirted
That everywhere his Roguish Pamphlets flies
That England's all embrodred o're with lies.
And late this cankerd viperous hownd of hell
His toadlike mallice did against me swell,
And did a poysnous lying libell frame
Against me, but durst never set his Name.
An Annagram Denominotes him well
Three scurvey words, a KNAV, REVILER, HEL,
These shew his name, his nature and his end
(Except before hee's hang'd he meanes to mend.)
For who is fitter for black hell to have
Then a reviler and a railing Knave,
And not to hold you in suspence much longer
This fellow is a Quondam Iron-monger
And now his coppies Chaung'd, crackd Like a shell
In Gracious street, doth Graceles libells sell.
If I would be an Idle babling talker
Perhaps I then should name him HENRIE WALLKER.
4
Hee'l hang himself if I should name him heere;
He in his title page, six times sets down
My name, but never once, durst write his own
And though his libell be one Sheete (no more)
And Prose and Verse the lines are but eightscore,
Yet fifty of these Roguish lines (pray know it)
He stole from FENNER, the dead Rimeing Poet.
And yet the mungrill Dogg's wits was to seeke
That he was faine to pumpe Above a weeke.
To answer me, but this reply was soon
unwrit and writ in halfe an Afternon.
And what sweet stuffe his Giant muse brought forth
Those that will reade may quickly know the worth.
He layes about him bravely with his Inke
And taxes me with drabs and to much drinke
But those that know me well, do know me so
That I to both those vices am a foe,
But were I given to the veneriall crime
I would have seen his wife before this time,
If he be Iellious, he deserves for that
To wear a faire Ox-feather in his Hat;
Th'Archbishop nor his men did me invite
Nor for a meal did I the book endite
For 'tis to sundry gentlemen well knowne
That I did write that booke three yeares agone.
Let trencher knaves (like Walker) Scrape for scrapps
And with the snuffes of Greatmen Rince their chappes,
No Bishops not in England living be
That I have cause to thanke for gifts to me.
He that takes part with Rome, let him have Hell
And there is Roome enough, there let him dwell:
But though those lines may shew sincerity
Yet they are far from Christian charity,)
I hate no person, (Layman or Divine)
Nor 'Gainst misguided soules do I repine,
5
(And charity begins at home 'tis knowne)
As men transgresse, so punish the offender
As men are men so men should pitty tender;
This shallow pated foole that railes and raves,
I pitty him and all his brother knaves
Sure if they had wit they would descry
Good manners must not be Idolatry,
That Popery is not railes, though too much railing
Hath shewed Romes mingle mangle wrangling failing.
Thou filthy fellow, dost thou make no ods
Between a Stable and a House of Gods,
I thinke the devill feares that doomes day's neere
And therefore he those adverse Sects doth reare
And Buzzeth sundry formes of strange Religions
That he may catch the most of them like Widgeons;
For what a lamentable case is this
When such mad fooles (whom wisemen scorne and hisse)
Dares take upon them to reforme and teache
Various Relligions, all beyond their reach.
And this rare Rascall, (in his zeale discreet)
Went lately to the Owle that's in Kings street
There was his Bible paund (for what I pray)
For one quarte of Metheglin left to pay.
Was not this Rogue rap'd with some spright devine
To pawne Gods word for poor Welch Muscadine.
He talkes of whipping, and of Iayles to me
Of gallowses, and things called Pillorie,
And such od whimsyes, which the Gentleman
Doth hammer in his Perricranian,
Yet late Greatmen of Government thought fit
To clap him in the fleet with all his wit,
And being thence releas'd, he afterward
Was kept in Wood-street-Counter with good guard
For why it vvas a matter most unmeet
His precisous Pamphlets should bestrow the street
6
To ride a Horse, to ride each Pissing Poste,
And all his patience could not be content
To stay for order from the Parliament,
I hold it manners to forbear a while
Till that High Court our wrongs can reconcile
To wait with patience, and with prayers desire
That God that Blessed Senate would inspire
With Grace, true wisdom, courage, saving health
For Heavens Great-service, King and common wealth.
But Master Walker and such Knaves as he
To wait their leasures cannot quiet be:
But they must Libell raile, and keep a Rut,
And (as they please their own wayes out to cut,
And like unmannag'd wild untoward Iades
Lay by their laudable and lawfull Trades,
And sawcily to preach, prate, rore, and lie
Against all order rule and descencie;
And all such as are not seditious
To call them Papists, and idollatrous,
As Froggs and Toades do breed from Putred slime
So do these Vermine feed upon mens crime
Like Swine ith' mire, they love to wallow in
The Sordid Loathsom Excrements of Sin.
And though offenders suffer worthily
Yet will these varlets malice never die,
For though unhappy Strafford be struck dead
They mount him up a cock-horse sans a head.
And this most precious youth, with tongue and pen
Is chiefe amongst the devills serving men,
For with his serpents tongue and poysned breath
He doth his worst to torture after death,
And sure because thou canst do Ill so well
Thou must expect to have thy hire in hell,
This stinking Vermin (mounseir overthwart)
Quite oposite to Nature, Law and Art,
7
Within the Rules and limmits of the Law,
And therefore if the Law should bid him stand
Then he would kneele, (contrary to command)
And when to kneele, good manners holds it fit
In opposition he would stand or sit;
For nothing his rebellious minde contents
That is not mix'd with disobedience
A sister as she chancd to set her eye on
The Kings Armes in the Church, the Rampant Lyon,
She said his Priap mov'd unlawfull motions
Which did disturbe and hinder her devotions,
But when her husband came to be Church warden
He caus'd some formes of flowers from field or Garden
Or sedge and flagges, 'twixt the Beast legges be painted
To hide his whim wham, which her minde had tainted.
This was done really, and 'tis no fable
To prove it so I quickly can be able,
And now thou poysoned pickthank pestilent
That writ'st and Rimest so poor so violent
Me think this my reply may answer thee,
If not, th'art like to have no more of me
I scorne and loath, that e're my pen or tongue
Should write or speak to such a lump of dunge;
Yet thou, (well skild in foolish impudence)
'Gainst these retorting lines will take offence
And with Mockado mouth and judgement Rash,
And tongue of Saye, thou'lt say all is but trash,
And that 'tis pitty, I should thus disperse
A businesse of such consequence in verse,
Indeed, with thee it cannot stand for good
Nor can it well by thee be understood,
Thou hat'st the muses, yet dost love to muse
In railing tearmes thy betters to abuse,
Verse must have method, measure, order, feet,
Proportion, cadence, weight and number, sweet
8
Dost with the Devills cloven foot thy measure take
And where thou hast no power thou dost deride
(so will all Rogues that verse cannot abide)
But let such know, that heaven bred Poetry
Despiseth mundane poore fellicity,
Nor for Vaust ayre will like a mag-py Chatter,
Or for the Crummes of greatnes Lye and flatter,
I could write lines, (thou fowle ill looking elfe)
Should make thee (in Jambicks) hang thy selfe,
Th'art fowle within, and my sharp lancing quill
Can make Incision, and with Art and skill
Search deep for dead flesh and Coroded Cores
And from corruptions cleare and clense thy sores.
Th'art almost Gangren'd, and I surely think
No Ballsums better then a Poets Inke,
My pen can lash detraction and I can
Be valliantly bold, and wrong no man,
But wherefore (like a Mountebank) doe I
Spend time and Ink upon such rascall frye
As is this gad-flye. 'Tis not Sergeons Art
Can help him, it perhaps may make him smart.
But he will be uncured, as he hath bin
Except he first be Cleansed and purged within:
So, Walker, Walk Knave, and more Roguery brew
And farewell and be hangd, that's twice adiew.
FINIS.
THE HELLISH PARLIAMENT Being a COUNTER-PARLIAMENT To this in England, containing the Demonstrative Speeches and Statutes of that Court.
Together with the perfect league made between the two hellish Factions the Papists and the Brownists.
[Thus wicked Satan hath a double way]
Thus wicked Satan hath a double way,To worke his ends to hinder his decay,
His Agents are so many and so wicked bent,
They care not for the truth so they'r not shent;
If that the Lions skin will doe no good,
They'l soone put on the cunning Foxes hood.
England repent, and for this Parliament pray,
Sith th'Devill strives to hurt thee every way.
FINIS.
A Delicate, Dainty, Damnable DIALOGVE, Between the Devill and a Jesuite.
2
My Deere Adopted Son, since we are met
And in our serious consultation set,
Let us contrive some stratagem most fit,
Our Antient Greatnesse, and deep-searching witt,
Lets lay such plots, may make the World admire,
And ad more fuell to our endlesse fire.
Iesu.
An't please your Gracelesse Maiestie to note
That I, with all the Brethren of my Coate,
Have been the truest Servants unto you,
Wee hold it Iust to give the Devill his due,
Wee have from North to South, from East to West,
Survaid the World, and wee have done our best
In every Province, Realme and Monarchie
T'advance and raise the Papal Dignitie,
And raising That, we understand right well,
Wee doe enlarge your Antient Kingdome Hell.
Devil.
Though Truth and I did ever disagree,
Yet truth I must say, that the Iesuites be
My deerest Servants, they have ever been
My Actors, and my factors (soules to winne)
But now our Cunning is found out, and crost,
And if wee look not to't, all will be lost.
Iesu.
Your Hellhood cannot taxe us (Mighty Prince)
With sleepy idlenesse, or negligence:
3
To lull the King of Christendome asleepe,
We have made Spaine for us, and Italie,
Poland, and the greatest part of Germanie,
Hungaria, Russia, France, all Catholikes,
(Except a crew of wilfull Hereticks)
Such as will not by our perswasions come,
And be obedient to the Sea of Rome,
The House of Austria, and great Bavarre,
With Brabant, all our owne already are,
But Britaine, Sweaden, and the warlike Dane,
Wee seeke their Ruine, and they worke our Bane,
There is a Parliament in England now,
That all Romes Rights, and Rites do disallow,
And sure the Scots, with them so fast are Knitt,
That (to the Pope) they never will submit,
Wee have done all we could, it plaine appeares
To set them altogether by the eares,
And wee have us'd all meanes how to prevent
All the proceedings of the Parliament,
We have sow'd false distrusts and iealousies,
Mad Tumults, Libells, base reports and Lies;
And over all the Land wee caus'd to flee,
Ten thousand Pamphlets (all as true as Wee.)
And yet we all, as if our wits were Dull'd,
Are in our expectations) meerly Gull'd,
For if we could that Parliament have broken,
Wee had done somthing worthy to be spoken.
But they are all (in Vnitie) so tide,
That all our plots can never them devide.
Which makes us now the out-cast scorne of men,
The Common abicts of each Pasquill's Pen,
And as our VVisdomes have been highly priz'd,
Wee now are greatest Fooles, aod most despis'd;
4
Direct and teach us to regaine our Right,
Inspire us with thy Rare Infernall skill,
And wee obediently will doe thy will.
Dev.
I tell thee Son, that since the first Creation,
I still have wrought the Churches desolation,
The first man made, I taught to disobey
The first borne, his iust Brother how to slay.
Infernally I Sodome did inspire,
Which drew upon them heavens consuming fire,
To righteous Lot, I gave incestuous drinke,
Noah unseemly in his Tent did winke,
I tempted Corah, madly to Rebell,
And hee and his were swallowed quick to Hell,
I had a wedge on Achan to bestow,
A Dallilah, a strong man to o'rethrow,
In Ahabs Reigne, I had Knights of the Post,
When Nabaoths Vineyard, and his life were lost,
The Patriarks, and Prophets, every one,
And my chiefe Enemie, Th'Almighties Sonne
I persecuted to the death, and I,
Have been the cause of all the Tiranny
Inflicted on th'Apostles, and the Ten
First persecuions on so many men,
With Women, Children, as it plaine appeares
In Histories, the first three hundred yeeres,
I in the Marrian Time did Havock make
In England, Thousands were consum'd at stake,
The massacres in France, I form'd and wrought,
And thousand Protestants to death I brought,
Two Henries, Kings of France, both murdered,
And William, Prince of Aurenge, pistol'd dead,
Duke D'Alva, vex'd the Netherlanders too,
And Tiranniz'd as bad as I could doe,
5
(A vengeance light on't, 'thad but bad effect)
And I the Powder Treason first did mint,
Although we had but scurvy fortune in't.
These have I done, and mischiefes millions more,
And yet I have not empted all my store.
Ies.
Great Emperour of Darknesse, briefly then,
Seeke to confound the Scots and English men,
They are our greatest and our hatefull'st foes,
Of all our Enemies, none like to those.
The Hollanders of Amsterdam, or Delfe,
Their faith is much indifferent (like my selfe)
As for Religion, so it bring in profit,
Let it be what it will, they thinke not of it:
Geneva is a little paltry Plot,
That hath all Romish duty quite forgot;
But Britaine is the Magazen of them,
That will tread downe the Papall Diadem,
Therefore against them all your forces call,
For if you conquer them, you have won all.
Dev.
My pen posts (Libels) my learned Scribes
Ile set a work, and I will fill with Bribes;
The hands of Iustice, Gold shall cleare, or bleare
His eyes, and stop her eares, she shall not heare,
Suspitious Ielousies, Ile frame, and fling,
Shall breed distaste 'twixt Subiects and the King,
That though they all meane well, Ile make a puther,
They scarcely shall beleeve, or trust each other:
I in the Church will such division sow,
Which shall goe neere the Church to overthrow:
Ile scatter strange Hreticall opinions,
In every corner of the Lands Dominions,
That those that see the madnesse of their Braines,
Shall thinke the Devill is in them, taking paines,
6
That shall disturbe the King and Kingdomes peace;
In every corner, I such strife will scatter,
That it shall seeme a Poole of troubled water,
Besides, my Irish Sons (the great O Donnell)
With his stout Kernes, and noble stout Tirconnell:
These with great troopes of Rebells, I will reare,
That shall disturbe and worke much mischiefe there.
A Proverb saies, He that will England winne,
He boldly first (with Ireland must begin,)
And there already, I have so begun,
That I doubt not our will, will there be done.
Thus (Fencer-like) my aime and stroke is wide,
I strike at England, quite through Irelands side.
Ies.
Could you make England like to Germany,
A Field of bloud, a Land of misery,
A grizly Golgatha of Dead Mens Bones,
An Empire wasted, full of sighes and groanes:
Your plots and ours, there twenty yeares have lasted,
In halfe that time all Brittaine may be wasted;
We (of our holy Order) have instill'd,
Such counsell into Cesars eares, which fill'd
His Royall heart with wrath, his minde with error,
All Christendome with horror, griefe and terror:
Bavariaes Duke we (as we pleas'd) did mold,
We drave the Palsgrave from Bohemias Hold,
(For never Prince did our Enchantments hear,
But he was straight wayes ours, through love or feare)
We are their Confessors, we know their mind,
And at our pleasure. can them turne and winde,
They doe confesse themselves to us, and we
Doe know their secrets, and their Masters be,
Yet though (like Kings) we rule and Raigne,
The King of Brittaine we shall never gaine,
7
And scornes us, as his Father did before.
Dev.
Well, since we cannot win him, this wee'l doe,
Wee'l trouble him, and all his people too,
And we have reason for't, for he of late,
A match with Aurange Son did consumate,
And his faire Daughter, sure that marriage may
Prove crosse to our proceedings many a way,
For if Nassaw had not led Belgias powers,
The Butter Boxes, had long since bin ours;
Could'st thou have crost that Marriage, thou hadst done
A worke most worthy to be call'd my son.
Ies.
The newes of it amongst us was so bad,
At Doway, and at Antwerp all were mad,
But could not hinder't, there's a power supernall,
That countermands our pollices infernall;
And since we cannot win what we intend,
Let us continually our forces bend,
That what we cannot gaine with care and toyle,
We may disturb, vex, ruinate, and spoyle.
Dev.
Ile fill the Cinque Ports of the Isle of Man
With mallice and with mischiefe all I can,
I will mens fancies with such humours fit,
They shall want time to think on grace, or wit,
Ile kil their loves, and for it give them scornes,
That all shall kicke the man whom Fortune spurnes,
Fantasticke toyes within their pates shall gingle,
And truth with falshood they shall brew and mingle,
Ile make the World of such an od condition,
Ile turn it to foole, feather, or Physitian,
This can I can doe and take but little paine,
'Tis but to doe my old worke o're againe,
So farewell Son, let's once againe begin
To doe some mischiefe where we cannot win.
8
I have a short complaint few yeares agon,
A Latine Annagram I look'd upon;
Against the Pope most knavishly 'tis writ,
Ile read it, and you can interpret it.
Supreamus Pontifex Romanus. ANNAGRAMMA. O Non Sum Supra Petram fixus.
Dev.
This gives your Holy Father a shrewd knock,
It sayes he is not fixed on a Rock:
Let him fix where he can, let's make an end,
As long as hee'l serve me, I am his friend.
FINIS.
TAILORS TRAVELS, from LONDON, TO THE ISLE of WIGHT: With his Returne, and occasion of his Iourney.
3
[This Pamphlet is not stuft with Triviall Bables]
This Pamphlet is not stuft with Triviall Bables,Or vaine prodigious undisgested fables:
This is no Mercury (with scoffs and jeeres)
To raise debate, and set us by the eares,
As if poore England had not yet endur'd
Sufficient plagues, but she must be assur'd,
By New, New, Newes, of New frights, and new foes,
And future mischiefes worse than present woes:
I bring no tidings of such consequence,
To breed Feares, Jealousies, or give offence,
Nor am I fraught with wonders, woundes, and scarres,
Or any thing relating to the Warres:
It is so writ that no man can accuse
Me of detraction, scandall, or abuse;
My lines are all from feare and horror free,
And here and there as true as true may be:
Yea much more true, I may be bound to sweare
Then many bookes have beene this twice foure yeare,
Or any Mercury writ heretofore,
Or old Currantoes, in the daies of Yore.
Then stroke your beards, or wipe your mouthes (at least)
And read, and heare what I have here exprest.
[The next succeeding month unto September]
The next succeeding month unto September,October was this yeare, (as I remember)
Without the charge of Proxey or Atturney,
My selfe in proper Person tooke this journey:
Two Gentlewomen (by two Maides attended)
Accompanied me till my travells ended.
We tooke one Coach, two Coach-men, and foure horses,
And merrily from London made our courses:
We wheel'd the top of th'heavy hill, call'd Holborne,
(Vp which hath been full many a sinfull soule borne:)
4
Which place from Brainford, six (or neere) seven miles is.
To Stanes that night at five a clock we coasted,
Where (at the Bush) we had bak'd, boyl'd, and roasted.
Bright Sols illustrious Rayes, the day adorning,
We past Bagshot and Bawwaw, Friday morning;
That night we lodg'd at the White Hart at Alton,
And had good meate, a table with a salt on:
Next morne w'arose, with blushing cheek'd Aurora;
The wayes were faire but not so faire as Flora:
For
Flora was a beautifull Courtezan in Rome, who gat great treasure by the prostitution of her body, which Wealth she gave to the Common Treasury, for which they did esteeme her a Goddes, and the Goddes of Flowers, and built a Temple to her.
And (like the high wayes) was to all men Common:
Our Horses, with the Coach, which we went into,
Did hurry us amaine through thick and thine to
With fiery speede, the foaming bits they champt on,
And brought us to the Dolphin at Southampton.
There found I friendship more then I expected
Or did deserve, so much to be respected:
The Gentlewomen both their husbands met there;
The Moone was mounted, and the Sun was set there;
And after two houres time, or some such matter
We turn'd our Coach t'a boat, and swam by water;
My entertainement was good wine and welcome,
The cups most kindly unto me pell mell come;
Southamptons Governour, much love did show me,
He was my old acquaintance, and did know me:
He gave me's passe, to passe me to the Island
And I tooke boate, and left him on the dry Land;
It was as bright a moonshine night, I say
As ever man saw in a Summers day;
Thus with a fore winde, and faire Cintha's light,
In foure houres time we came to the Isle of Wight:
We past Cowes Castle, and into the Towne went,
Where some short time we wandring up and downe went;
Thus being favour'd by men, windes and weathers,
At Cowes I landed, and lodg'd at the Feathers:
5
And on that Wight of Waight, I came to wait then.
Long live he blest internall, and externall.
And blest be England in his love paternall,
To guide and guard him, grace and power supernall,
Defend him from all trecherous traps infernall:
In imitation of him let us learne all
To live so heer that we may live eternall:
And thou, whose mercy nere can be exhausted,
In thy compassion thinke on England wasted:
The sword of wrath that's drawne is justly thine,
The Sinnes that made thee draw it forth are mine:
Jonas the storme did to himselfe apply;
Let each say so now, each man say tis I.
And now my story briefely Ile compose,
From harsh hard rugged rime, to smooth fac'd prose.
6
[Then I with kicking set my heeles to horse]
Then I with kicking set my heeles to horse,
Advent'ring to ride through it force perforce:
My guides misguiding made me much the bolder,
The horse fell in, quite plung'd up to the shoulder.
I forward fell, and backward fell the Maid,
Man, Maide, and horse in curious pickle laid,
And never Eare did heare, or Eye did see
Such a pair-Royall faire Triplicity.
The danger past, we each on other gaping;
Not angry, or well pleas'd, we fell to scraping:
Sometimes we fretted, and our lips did bite,
And sometimes (at our selves) we laught out right.
I scrapt my selfe, the Maide, the Hostler drest,
The Horse lookt on, uncurried like a beast.
Thus we to Newport came in gay attire,
Embrodred over all with dirt and mire:
And thus from Cowes we tumbled in the slowes,
Man, Maide, and horse, moil'd like three beastly sowes:
'Twas my base guide that put me in this trim,
For which abuse Ile have a bout with him:
The Divell misleades us all, we plainely see,
And that same stinking Hostler misled me.
Advent'ring to ride through it force perforce:
My guides misguiding made me much the bolder,
The horse fell in, quite plung'd up to the shoulder.
I forward fell, and backward fell the Maid,
Man, Maide, and horse in curious pickle laid,
And never Eare did heare, or Eye did see
Such a pair-Royall faire Triplicity.
7
Not angry, or well pleas'd, we fell to scraping:
Sometimes we fretted, and our lips did bite,
And sometimes (at our selves) we laught out right.
I scrapt my selfe, the Maide, the Hostler drest,
The Horse lookt on, uncurried like a beast.
Thus we to Newport came in gay attire,
Embrodred over all with dirt and mire:
And thus from Cowes we tumbled in the slowes,
Man, Maide, and horse, moil'd like three beastly sowes:
'Twas my base guide that put me in this trim,
For which abuse Ile have a bout with him:
The Divell misleades us all, we plainely see,
And that same stinking Hostler misled me.
For which:
First in a Knaves skinne I will wrap him hot,Which he shall alwaies weare until it rot:
My prayer for him shall be this execration,
Let him be nasty in his occupation:
Oh let his provender be ever musty,
His hay be most distastfull, foule, and dusty:
His Pease, and Beanes, and Oates most odious fusty,
And's curry combe (for want of use) be rusty:
Thus musty, dusty, fusty, rusty, crusty,
Shall plague the Knave that was to me untrusty.
In Vrine, and Beasts Ordure let him toile:
Soile be his trade, yet nere be Lord oth' soile.
Let boot haling be most part of his living:
Let Guests be sparing to him in their giving:
Vnder his Rack let him in tortures lye,
And (in his Manger) let him stinke and dye:
And let the preaching Cobler at Blackwall
Be 3 houres prating at his funerall:
Let him be grav'd in his owne Element:
Let litter, and horse dung be his monument.
8
To some more serious businesse in the Isle.
Thus having overpast this foule disaster,
I went to see my suffring Soveraigne Master:
Which sight to me was all my Earthly blisse,
He gave me straight his Royall hand to kisse,
Which grac'd me much in all the publique sights
Of Commons, Gentles, and brave Lords and Knights.
12
[And therefore Reader understand and note]
And therefore Reader understand and note,Who ever sayes I lye, he lies in's throate.
[Blest Englands joy (the King) will come e're long.]
Blest Englands joy (the King) will come e're long.Praise God, make Bonefires, swing the Bells, ding dong.
And let him never beare a Christians name,
Whose trade and pleasure is in blood and flame
Of his deare Countrey, and rip, rend, and teare
His Mothers Womb, that such a brat did beare.
FINIS.
THE Essence, Quintessence, Insence, Innocence, Lye-sence, & Magnifisence OF Nonsence upon Sence: OR, SENCEuponNONSENCE.
2
In Laudem Authoris.
Must
Non-sence fill up every Page?
Is it to save th'expence
Of wit? or will not this dull Age
Be at the Charge of sence?
Is it to save th'expence
Of wit? or will not this dull Age
Be at the Charge of sence?
But (John) though Fortune play the Whore,
Let not the Vulgar know it;
Perhaps if you had not been poor,
You had not been a Poet.
Let not the Vulgar know it;
Perhaps if you had not been poor,
You had not been a Poet.
Your Estate's held in Capite,
It lies upon Pernassus;
Complain not then of Poverty,
You are as rich as Crassus.
It lies upon Pernassus;
Complain not then of Poverty,
You are as rich as Crassus.
H. B.
3
Nonsense upon Sense, &c.
Moūt meekly low, on blew presumptuous wings,Relate the force of fiery water Springs,
Tell how the Artick, and Antartick Pole
Together met at Hockley in the Hole:
How Etna, and Vessuvius, in cold bloud,
Were both drown'd in the Adriatick floud.
Speak truth (like a Diurnall) let thy Pen
Camelion like, rouze Lions from their Den,
Turne frantick Wolpacks into melting Rocks,
And put Olympus in a Tinder box:
Report how Russian Cats doe barke like dogs,
And Scithian Mountains are turnd Irish Bogs,
Feast Ariadne with Tartarian Tripes,
Transforme great Canons to Tobacco-pipes:
Make Venus like a Negro, white as jet,
And puffe-paste of the Tomb of Mahomet.
Then mounted on a Windmill presently
To Dunstable in Derbyshire I'le flie:
From thence Ile take the Chariot of the Sun,
And swim to Scotland, and bring news what's done:
From thence Ile soare to silver Cintha's lap,
And with Endimion take a nine years nap:
There Ile drinke healths with smug-face Mulciber,
At all the twelve signes in the Hemisphere.
Tush tell not me these things are past dispute,
I'le from th'Hesperides bring golden fruit:
4
Fetch'd from the fertile Molehill Caucasus,
Tis not the Persian Gulph, or Epshams Well,
Nor Westminsters sweet Plum-broth (made in Hell)
Can change my resolution, I have vow'd,
To speake with silence and to write aloud,
That Bulls of Basan, and the Circean Swine,
Shall all dance Trenchmore at these words of mine.
Rowse up thou Ghost of Gusman, and apply
Thy selfe to me and let's write Tempe dry:
Be rul'd by me, we'le empty all Hellicon,
In scribling 'gainst the Whore of Babylon.
The Dunsmore Cows milke shall make Sillibubs,
And our Religion shall be brought in Tubs.
Make hast unto the faire call'd Bartholomew,
And thence from the Heroick Mungrell Crew,
Take the fine gugaw hobby horses all,
Which we will man, and then a Counsell call
And conquer Callice, Kent and Christendome,
Knock down the Turck, and bravely ransack Rome;
What can be done more? What more can be sed?
Let's play at Blind-man-buffe for Ginger-bread:
We'le have a dish of Dabs in Fish-street drest,
And with the Lobsters Ladies we will feast.
For as the Gowt is but a pleasing itch,
The best Bear-garden Bull-dog was a Bitch.
We have both eight and eighteen parts of speech,
Whereby I learn Ash burns as well as Beech,
Gargantua's scull is made a frying pan
To fry or follow the Leviathan,
That Gogmagog, Nick Wood, or Mariot,
Nor Creatan, Miloe or Iscariot
Were not such valiant stomack'd men as those
That eat the Devils gowty petitoes.
5
Give me a Sculler or a pair of Oares.
Ile make the Orient, and the Occident,
Both friends at Smithfield in the wild of Kent:
For now Tom Holders Mare hath broke her Cruppe
Dresse me a dish of Æ-dipthongs to supper.
The Dean of Dunstable hath bought and sold
Twelve lies new Printed, for two groats in gold.
Tis almost past the memory of man,
Since famous Arthur first in Court began:
Yet though King Lud did raign in Troynovaunt,
Will Summers was no kin to John of Gaunt.
What news from Tripoly? ware horns there ho:
The West-wind blows South-North at Ierico.
Steer well and steady, boyes look, look to th'Helme,
Fetch Goesberries that Grow upon the Elme:
Like Cormorants lets live upon the Ayre,
And of a Whirle-poole make a Marble Chair.
Blind men may see, and deafe men all shall hear
How dumb men talk, because Cow-hides are dear.
Go to th'Utopian Kingdome and relate,
That to their King these lines I dedicate:
Bid him take note of me, and understand
He hath not such a Poet in his Land.
Down by the dale with milk and cream that flows,
Upon a Hill (below the Valley) grows
Hungarian Peacocks white as crimson Geese,
There sate a Rat upon a Holland Cheese:
No sooner did blind Bayard see the sight,
Two beauteous ugly Witches took their flight
To tell the King of China wondrous news,
Howall Scotch Knaves were hang'd and English Iews.
Th'Athenian Hidra, and the Bird Torpedo
Were catcht in France in Mouse-traps near Toledo.
6
Made drunke a Constable and stole the watch.
Do what you can, Madge howlet is an Owle:
And Beans with Buttermilke is rare wilde Fowle.
The Coblers daughter, wee three both together,
Wee'le match, he'l give a thousand pieces with her;
Besides the smoak of Keinsam and Bell-Swagger,
Who oft at Mims did use his dudgeon Dagger:
Then shall the Perecranians of the East,
South, North, and West, with every Bird and Beast;
All knuckle deep in Paphlagonian Sands,
Inhabite Transilvanian Netherlands:
'Tis the onely gallant way to gaine promotion,
To squeese Oyle from the Cindars of Devotion,
Transsate our Rownd head Turnips into Carrets,
And turne the lowest Cellars to high Garrets:
Let Neptune be a shepheard, and let Vulcan
Make hast to Greeneland, and there drinke his full Kan.
Of Molehils in the entrance of Dame Theatis,
Titus Andronicus hath writ a Treatise,
Wherein a man may learn before he looks
To catch mince-pies with neither nets nor hooks:
There policy with practise cut and dri'd
Were carted both in triumph through Cheapside.
If Monday hang himselfe no further seek.
Henceforth Tuesday shall begin the week.
No more of that I pray, I am afear'd
Ther's not one haire upon Diana's beard.
Great Agamemnon late combin'd with Hector,
To preach at Amsterdam an Irish Lector,
Which shall convert the Horse, the Asse, and Mule
And all the Beasts in Hipperborean Thule
If Sun-shine will with shaddowes but consent
We'le make the winter of our discontent
7
And turne Decembers heat to frost in June.
When this externall substance of my soule
Did live at liberty, I caught wild fowle,
I was a Caiftiffe in the Court of Spaine,
And playd at shuttle-cock with Charlemaine:
Then I did magnifie and mundifie,
Then I the Fairy Queen did putrifie,
And purifie againe, and dignifie,
All such as did her greatnesse deifie,
Females did edifie and fructifie,
And Amplifie and coldly gratifie.
The Lake of Lerna I did clarifie,
My Verse the Æthiop Queen did beautifie,
With rage my patience I would qualifie,
I can both certifie and testifie
How death did live, and life did mortifie:
Feare alwayes did my courage fortifie:
He's crafty that his wits can rectifie,
To villifie, make glad and terrifie,
And with course words old debts to satisfie,
That man Ile ratifie and notifie
To be one that himselfe will Justifie,
And fie, fo, fum, concludes him with O fie:
Thus from complexions I have Mineralls drawne,
Brave Captaine Fumble layd his sword to pawn
To ransome Jeffery Chaucers Cipresse Gowne.
Thersitis with a Rush knockt Ajax downe
Imperious Momus wrote th'Atlantick story
Of wars betwixt Achilles and John Dory:
'Twas dedicated to the Isle of Lundy,
An Embleame right of transit gloria mundi.
Thus the great Amadis de Gal was able
With Nonsence (like sence) to endure a Fable
8
Did beat up Pompies quarters with alarum.
Let not the distances of place molest us,
Abidos is not forty miles from Sestus:
As Hero lov'd Leander, I'le agree,
Though he and she were mad, what's that to me?
Tis like Cleopatra and Antonius
Met, but saw not the Cardinall Baronius:
The Capitol, and silken Rock Tarpeyus
In a Seadan to Lichfield shall convey us;
And like a wheel-barrow we'l cut and curry,
And fetch good news from Shropshire and from Surry:
There is no Eunuch of the Race of Brutus,
That either can confute us, or cornute us.
Old Solon was no jester, nor no jyber,
And English Thames is better than Rome's Tyber:
I took a Camel, and to Naples went I,
Of pickled Sausedges I found great plenty:
The Gudgeon catcher there o'retop'd the Nobles,
And put the Vice Roy in a peck of troubles:
Brave tag rag multitude of Omnium Gatherum,
Shuffle 'um together, and the Devill father 'um:
But now and then was squez'd a rich Delinquent,
By which good means away the precious chink went:
Renowned was the Raskall Massennello,
In fifteen dayes he was raw, ripe, and mellow.
Laugh, laugh, thou whining Foole Heraclitus,
And weep thou grinning Asse Democritus:
The grey Horse is the better Mare by halfe,
The Bull at Bear-Garden, and Walthams Calfe
Are reconcil'd, but not concluded fully
Who pleaded best, Demosthenes or Tully:
I am indifferent, fill the other Kan,
Logick hath art to make an Ape a man.
9
Twixt Romane, and Imperiall Guelphs and Giblins.
How Munsters John a Leide, and Knipperdoling
Were barbarous Barbers in the art of poling.
From Sence and Nonsence, I am wide, quoth Wallice,
But not so far as Oxford is from Callice:
Give me a Leash of merry blades, right Bilboes,
True tatter'd Rogues in Breech, Shirts, Skirts, and Elboes,
And each of them will make a fit Disciple.
To ride up Holborn to the tree that's triple:
A man may think his purse is quite turn'd Round-head,
When all the crosses in it are confounded:
'Tis sayd that Poetry a thriving trade is,
And gets a world of wealth from Lords and Ladies;
The Devill they do, false shamefull Lown thou ly'st,
And when thou canst no longer live, thou dy'st.
Lend me Rhamnussnes Flanders blade, Ile lash
The sober Centaure, turn great Oaks to Ash:
A long Devils broath, be sure you bring a spoon,
Our mornings shall begin at afternoon;
And Minos, Eacus, nor Rhadamantus
May rore and rant, but never shall out rant us.
As we are Temporall, let's be Temporizers,
We scorn to be surpriz'd, we'l be surprizers:
Let's make grim Pluto stink, the welkin rumble,
And Hollophernes bluster, blow, and grumble,
Rending up mighty Thistles by the roots,
Because an Ostler stole away his boots:
Then with a multiplying Gally pot,
Ile know the projects of the crasty Scot;
And then he shall be forc'd to hide his head
In Tenebris, in Poland, or in Swead:
Fough, this Tobacco stinks; thou dirty Hag,
Stand further near, Ile put thee in a bag.
10
To find the Goddesse Berecinthia,
And know how Pirramus and this befell
Together by the years late in Bridewell.
Words are but wind in Terme time, but Vacations
Are fit to publish silent Proclamations.
There was a businesse never understood,
The woman's suit in Law was just and good:
She lost the day, this did her Cause disgrace,
The Lawyer put some ill into her Case.
Before Ile live this life, Ile take a knife,
And drown my selfe, and then what needs a Wife?
Strange things are done by Art and humane power,
Quinborow Castle landed neare the Tower.
Much like a Prodigy old time played Rex:
A Kentish Castle came to Middlesex.
May not a man cal'd Newgate dwell at Higate,
And wed a Widdow at the Pie at Algate?
Therefore let us like or dislike Presbytery,
It will worke finely if it once besquitter ye.
Bring me a Salamander from Surat in France,
The Alps and the Pirenian hils shall dance.
In Greenewich Parke there smiling Nioby
Shall laugh and lye downe like an Oyster Pye.
Fame is a lying slut, she told me tayles,
That in October Christmas came from Wales:
Believe it take the wings of Icarus,
And walke to Hounsditch, and to Erebus,
There tell them playnly how the case stands here.
And bring us word how matters do goe there.
Unto the Market Ile run presently,
And there a peck of troubles I will buy,
One told me they would multiply and grow:
All England with them I will plant and sow.
11
That every living soule shall have a share:
Ile serve myselfe first, and Ile have such store
In time of need to serve a thousand more.
But I forget my Theame. O foule offence!
This nonsence hath a taste of too much sense:
The Asse, Goos, Woodcock, Buzard, and the Gull,
Beat out their brains, and put them in my scull;
And tell the men of Gotham tis thought fit
The Wisemen there should lend me all their wit:
For Nonsence I will tax all Christendome,
Great Emperours and Kings shall pay me some,
And many a Major, or justice of the Peace
Will give me tribute and the Tax encrease
To such a height, that Cardinals from Rome,
Cuckolds, and Costables shall pay me some:
Strong Hull, with fatal Hell, and Hallifax,
Shall naturally bring me tole and tax:
The mighty stock of Nonsence I will win:
Shalbe the universal Magazine,
For Universities to worke upon
The Rich Philosophers admired Stone:
Then I make Poets rich, and Usurers poor;
And thus resolv'd at this time write no more.
14
Or thus you may English it, in the transcending prayse of the Authour and his Booke.
Till Phœbus blustring blasts shall cease to blow,And Æolus shall hide his radiant Rayes
Till Vulcans Forge be fram'd of Scithian Snow,
And Neptune like a Shepheard spend his dayes;
When Saturne shall sell Mouse traps and allow
Mars to sing Madrigals, and round delayes:
Then shall thy Book and thee be out of Date,
And scorn the envy of consuming Fate.
To your Worthinesse in all observance Devoted, John
Defislie Cankie of Sallamanca in Andalusia.
15
[Swift Pepasus lend me thy Hoofes and Wings]
Swift Pepasus lend me thy Hoofes and WingsTempe, and Aganipp, and such strange things
As Poets do call Hellicon, and Muses
(That with ingenious wit the braine infuses)
In nimble strains make my invention wag,
And tell the sad death of a Scottish Nag.
A Nag of Nags, (as those that knew him say)
Whose birth and breeding was in Galloway,
Which Countrey (though it barren be and bare)
His Mother was a well reputed Mare:
He had all paces, and more swift then Wind,
Could trot before and amble well behind;
He had two sorts of gallops, false and true,
That when he did but run, men thought he flew!
Sure he was kin to winged Pegasus,
And of the race of great Bucephalus;
But Ile not rake up old Antiquity.
To prove his Ancesters old Pedigree:
Let it suffice, that such a Horse he was
That could in measure bravely pace and passe,
A Bay, a gallant Bay, most swift and quick,
Not having one base scurvy jadish trick.
There's many brave men, in their finest trim
Wants what this Nag had, sound of Wind and Limb.
He di'd untimely by a sad disaster,
And death unluckily unhors'd his master.
Though Horses of diseases have too many,
Yet in his life time he had never any:
He had no Chin-gall, Wind-gall, Navell-gall,
Or Staggers, Spur-gall, Light-gall, Shacksgall,
Nor Wormes, or anticore, or Salenders,
Nor Scatches, Dropsie, or the Mallenders,
No Palsey, Feaver vext him, or Pompardy,
16
No Glanders, Cough, the Yellows, or Pole evill,
Or Spavens, Splinters, Fashions, or Colt-evill;
Nor Ring-bones, Quitter-bones, no Curbs or Hawse,
Were of this Nags death any griefe or Cause;
No Cramp or Canker, Crestfall, or the Vives,
Or bloudy Riffes that shorten Horses lives.
He had no Crown-scab, nor was ever found
To have the Hawkes, or Toothach, or Hide-bound,
Or Bots, or Botch, or Paps his health did wound.
No tongue-hurt Farley, rotten Frush, or Cloy'd,
No Kybes, or broken wind his health annoy'd;
No Bladders, Surbates, Wrench, or Tyrednesse,
No strain, no Scottish fleas, or lowsinesse;
No prick 'ith soale, Neck-creek, or shoulder splat,
Or Strangle, he ne'r troubled was with that;
He had no Pin and Web, loose-hoof'd, or gravel'd,
Bloud shot, or founder'd whensoere he travel'd;
Horse-hip'd he was not, or in's Groyn a Wen,
Nor Rot i'th Lungs, nor shed his hair, what then
Did kill him? some suppose it was the Pose;
But we are all deceiv'd, 'twas none of those:
No Megrim was his death, or Calenture,
He with a Surfeit dy'd an Epicure.
But change of Pasture, altring of the Ayre
The health of Man or Horse may much impaire:
For by old Par it plainly doth appear,
(Who liv'd in Shropshire sevenscore thirteen year)
Was by an Honorable Earles expence,
With Care and Cost to London brought from thence,
But change of Ayre and Dyet took short course,
And layd him dead, like Master Fradshams horse.
This Nag in Scotland kept a temperate dyet,
(For Gallaway's a Country free from Riot)
17
That ever Horse did dye of Surfet there:
With Provender they are not proud, prick'd up,
With moderation there they bite and sup;
Their fare is fruitfull Fearn, and wholesome Heath,
Which frugall food preserves long wind or Breath,
Or Mosse as soft as downe or good chop'd straw;
(For Horses there think Hay Apocrypha)
An English Horse-loafe's Antichristian,
And all their Nags are Presbyterian:
For had I Aristotiles wit, my pen
Would prove strange Sects in Horses as in men:
The Spanish Jennet, and the Flaunders Mare,
Betwixt them many strange opinions are:
The Sumpter Horse will prance a lofty Gate,
Proud with the Burthen of ill gotten plate;
The Naples Courser, and the German steed,
The Barbary Horse that 'mongst the Moors doth breed,
The Cart horse, French Cavalla, Irish Hobby,
The Welsh Tit that loves Oates beyond Couse-bobby:
A man may write and talke, and wast his wind,
Yet never make these horses of one mind;
And many sects there are that disagree,
Who in Religion like to Horses be:
And sure more Horses have to Churches gone
Within these ten years, then was ever known:
This Nag, neare Hampton Court, did catch his death
And to his Master did his skin bequeath;
His Brains, Wit, Reason, and his honesty,
He gave to's Countrey as a Legacy:
His Corps had near a hundred Graves and Tombs,
In light foot Hounds, Kites, Crows, and Ravens Wombs:
Thus at his Funerall solemnity,
He was most swift, and did both run and flie.
18
The Second Part to the same Sence.
When as a Woodcock did a Phœnix hatch,Once in the Raigne of Iulian the Apostate,
When Spiders Nets an Elephant did catch,
The Alehouse had no fire to make a Toast at;
Then in those merry lamentable dayes,
Upon a Christmas Eve near Michaelmas,
New Market heath did hoarsly sing the praise
Of Apuleius, or the Golden Asse.
The Adamantine fall of seven fold Nile,
Had boyl'd Musk-Millions from the Mount Pernassus,
Whereas the sing song wanton Crocodile
Made Romane Cressus smile, and Lidian Crassus,
When Charing Crosse the Sun of Summers Leg,
Had Kitned in the eyelids of a Nowne,
And Christmas Carrols played at Mumble peg,
With the Buls pizzel of a Market Towne;
Then shall a Pronowne and a Participle
Fight doggedly for wagging of a straw,
And then Tom Thum with Gogmagog shall tipple,
And shew the Learnedst Lawyers what is Law.
Then Ghastly flesh of shillings fry'd in steaks,
And Oyntments drawn from warm ingratitude
Did draw the teeth of two and forty weeks
From out the heels of sqemish magnitude.
But yet (O yet) a new laid Madrigall
Had bak'd the haunches of a Spanish child,
And matcht 'em to Sir Guy the Seneschall,
19
Whilest this was doing, all undone, and Done,
As men undoe a Trowt to make a Loach,
For as with spoons a Lord may eat the Sun,
So layes a Bitch her Litter in a Coach.
The Times have beene, (but Time is turn'd to pap)
That men might speake like Sea-crabs with a Quill,
And old Devotion wore a corner'd Cap
Upon the Stomack of a Water-mill.
But as a Bag pipe-flying in the Ayre,
Doth water all the Earth with Scottish Jigs,
So Times do change their turns at Sturbridge Faire;
For all the World now rides on Ale and Wigs.
O that my wings could bleat like butter'd pease,
But bleating and my Lungs have caught the itch,
Which are as musty as the Irish Seas,
Which in their left side now have both the Stich.
I grant indeed, that Rainbows layd to sleep,
Snort like a Woodknife in a Ladies eyes,
Which makes her bark to see a Pudding creep,
For creeping puddings alwayes please the Wise.
The forc of custome makes a man to pisse
A cast of Merlins in King Dido's mouth:
Hence comes the squint ey'd Proverb, which is this,
All men are borne their backsides to the South.
A Letter late came from the Stygian Lake
That told me Cerberus himselfe had choak'd:
He took a Milstone for a butter'd Cake,
when first red Herrings were at Yarmouth smoak'd:
The Orientall Chilblains of the West
Flew like a Colliflower in Chequer broath,
And then the Fairy Queen in Buckrum drest,
Rod through the Ayre well mounted on a Moth.
Min as he is a Cloakbag, is a fish,
20
Which boyld with pindust in Chafing dish,
Eats like stew'd Mustard made in Vulcans smock.
Once in an evening when the morning Sun
Did hotly speak with cold Meridian splendor;
There was a jolly Frier told a Nun
That Feminine was Masculine Male Gender.
Things have their times, as Oysters have their wool:
Dogs have their dayes, as Distaffes have their Gall,
So all men living ought to dwell at Hull,
For Hallifax cannot containe them all.
A statesman once corrupted is a Gun,
That ferrets Screachowls from Bellona's Beard,
To make a handsome Codpiece for the Sun
To were upon the pommell of his Sword.
Man unto Man, is Man; but Man to Man,
Is Herrings flesh, made of a yard of Ale,
With the ingredients of a Dipping pan,
Whiles Pancradge Church begets an Issue Male.
An Oxe was lately in a Mouse-trap taken;
Read but the booke of Weekly Newes, and note
How many stock-fishes were made fat Bacon,
Broyl'd on the Top-mast of a Mussell Boat,
New Heroglyphick three-fold twisted Lines
Of things that were, and were not, how Augustus
With Ovids Metamorphoses combines,
To try us oftentimes, but never trust us.
The faculties of every humane soule
Are made of Turpentine and Venson bones:
Ingendred in the night-cap of an Owle
That gives a Glister to the Torrid-Zones:
For as a Pistoll lisps when he doth court
Three paire of guts, bound up in true loves knots,
So Easter Terme is cu.to'd but in sport,
21
Then smoth thy brow with milk-white discontent,
And raise thy spirits up beneath thy feet.
For Shrovetide now hath swallow'd Iack-a-lent.
Because few Marriners are in the Fleet.
I know I am a man abhorr'd of Bells
That ring in Concave of an Heteroclite;
I know the Cuckolds thoughts of Bathe and Wels,
Do sizzle like a Mil-stone in a Net.
I saw, but what I view'd, I never saw
A row of Teeth penfeatherd in a Trowt,
Whilst Perkins Horse orethrew a Case in Law,
And he himselfe got fee farme of the Gowt.
How can a Mayor Rule, but with a Lask,
That may squirt Steeples in the teeth of Fame?
For if they do, their touch-stone and their Flask
Will fill the Winde with Polecats of the name.
The clock doth strike when time bewrayes his hose,
And Oysters catch the cough with being kinde:
As Puttocks weare their Buttocks in their nose,
So Fables weare their Bables in their minde.
I grant indeed, that whoso may and can,
Can never may, sith may doth can abey;
But he that can and will, may will as man,
But man can will, yet his will cannot may.
Call True the Taylor hither presently,
For he must make a mantle for the Moone:
Bid Atlas from his shoulders shake the sky,
And lend and send me his left handed spoone.
For Pride's a Pitchfork that the waile doth fill
Of Ursa Mayor (God of Apple-Cakes,)
Sloath is the Cucking stoole of Holborne hill,
Much like a Sope-boyler upon a Iakes.
Oh that I were in love with Bobbin-lace
22
Then to mine Ankles I would screw my face,
To make a Paire of Boots for black Renowne,
Faine would I leave, but leave at me doth grin,
As doth a Custard when his nails doth ake;
Or like a blew Bore in a Pudding skin,
So I must manners leave for manners sake.
Then rest my Rimes, before my reason's done,
For women are all Wag tayles when they run:
Who sets his wits my Sence to undermine, is
A cunning man at Nonsence, farewell, Finis.
The third part of the fourth Edition to the five Senses, or Sence aforesaid.
Ile say no more, but what I mean to speak,And speaking what I say shall silence break.
Mumbudget, let no words be utter'd neither,
Let's seperate our speeches close together.
Reach my fierce flye-flap, Van Trump, stand aloofe,
My Arms and Armour's close Committee Proofe;
Give me a Butterbox with not on rag on,
I'le pickle him like to a Dutch flap Draggon:
An Ordinance of Parliament shall scatter ye,
Our Ordinance is Ordnance, that can batter ye.
Me vat a whee, is Cambria Brittish French,
Dick shifts a Trencher, but Tom keeps the Trench.
An Annagram is John King, and King John,
Five quarters of one year is four to one:
May not a Miser wille a poor mans want,
And give him lodging, cloathing, and provant,
And hang himselfe, and give the Devill his due,
Perhaps the Newes is too good to be true.
23
T'have meat and drink for nothing, is not costly.
I could have written mad verse, sad verse, glad verse,
But you shall be contented now with bad verse;
I neither weep or sing of sweet Rebellion,
Or story old I list not now to tell ye on:
The Royall mad Lancastrians, and Yorkists
Scare harm'd so much as some cornuted Forkists,
The most uncivill civill Goths and Vandals
Did not on their owne Countrey bring such scandals.
The Turks, the Iews, the Canibals and Tartars
Ne're kept such wicked, rude, unruly quarters.
Ierusalems, Eleazer, Iohn, and Simon
Did ne're yield Poet baser stuff to rime on.
Like bloudy Sylla, and consuming Marius,
One mischiefe did into another carry us.
Amongst all Trades (some thousands zealous Widgeons)
Were hardly more in number then Religions.
In Preachers Roomes were Preach'd, for which I woe am,
The basest people Priests like Ieroboam.
That one may say of London, what a Town is't?
It harbours in it many a Corbraind Brownist:
Tis scatter'd full of Sects, alas how apt is't
To be a Familist, or Anabaptist!
Whilst Knaves (of both sides) with Religions Mantle,
Have rifled England by patch, piece, and Cantle;
That I may say of thee O London, London,
What hath thy Wealth, Wit, Sword, & furious Gun done?
And what hath many a mothers wicked son done?
Whereby (against their wills) there's many undone.
Thrice happy had it been for our tranquility,
If th'Authours of this incivility
Had been a little check'd by Gregory Brandon,
With each of them a hempen twisted band on.
FINIS.
| Works of John Taylor the Water Poet not included in the folio volume of 1630 | |