University of Virginia Library

[SATYRES]

[Your Sceane is done, depart you Epigrammes]

Your Sceane is done, depart you Epigrammes:
Enter Goat-footed Satyres, butt like Rammes:
Come nimbly foorth, Why stand you on delay?
O-ho, the Musique-tuning makes you stay.
Well, friske it out nimbly: you slaues begin,
For now me thinkes the Fidlers handes are in.

1. SATYRES.

[Who haue we here? Behold him and be mute]

Who haue we here? Behold him and be mute,
Some mightie man Ile warrant by his sute.
If all the Mercers in Cheapside shew such,
Ile giue them leaue to giue me twice asmuch:
I thinke the stuffe is namelesse he doth weare,
But what so ere it be, it is huge geare.
Marke but his gate, and giue him then his due,
Some swaggring fellow, I may say to you:
It seemes Ambition in his bigge lookes shroudes,
Some Centaure sure, begotten of the Cloudes,
Now a shame take the buzard, is it he:
I know the ruffaine, now his face I see.
On a more gull the Sunne did neuer shine,
How with a vengance comes the foole so fine?
Some Noble mans cast Sute is fallen vnto him,
For buying Hose and Doblet would vndo him.
But wote you now, whither the buzard walkes?
I, into Paules forsooth, and there he talkes
Of forraine tumults, vttring his aduice,
And prouing Warres euen like a game at dice:
For this (sayes he) as euery gamster knowes,
Where one side winnes, the other side must loose.
Next speach he vtters, is his stomackes care,
Which ordinarie yeeldes the cheapest fare:
Or if his pursse be out of tune to pay,
Then he remembers tis a fasting day:
And then he talketh much against excesse,
Swearing all other Nations eate farre lesse
Then Englishmen; experience you may get
In Fraunce and Spaine; where he was neuer yet.
With a score of Figges and halfe a pint of Wine,
Some foure or fiue will very hugely dine.
Mee thinkes this tale is very huge in sound,
That halfe a pint should serue fiue to drinke round,
And twentie Figges could feed them full and fat:
But trauellers may lye; who knowes not that,
Then why not he, that trauels in conceit,
From East to West, when he can get no meate?
His Iorney is in Paules in the backe Isles,
Wher's stomacke counts each pace a hūdred miles.
A tedious thing, though chaunce will haue it such,
To trauaile so long baytlesse, sure tis much.
Some other time stumbling on wealthy Chuffes,
Worth gulling: then he swaggers all in huffes,
And tels them of a prize he was at taking,
Wil be the ship-boyes childrens childrens making:
And that a Mouse could finde no roome in holde,
It was so pesterd all with pearle and golde:
Vowing to pawne his head if it were tride,
They had more Rubies then wold paue Cheapsid
A thousand other grosse and odious lies,
He dares auouch to blind dull Iudgements eyes,
Not caring what he speake or what he sweare,
So he gaine credite at his hearers eare.
Sometimes into the Royall Exchange hee'le droppe
Clad in the ruines of a Brokers shoppe:
And there his tongue runs by as on affaires,
No talke but of commodities and wares:
And what great wealth he lookes for ery wind,
From Goe knowes where, the place is hard to find.
If newes be harkend for, then he preuailes,
Setting his mynt a worke to coyne false tales.
His tongues-end is betipt with forged chat,
Vttring rare lyes to be admired at,
Heele tell you of a tree that he doth know,
Vpon the which Rapiers and Daggers grow,
As good as Fleetstreete hath in any shoppe,
which being ripe, downe into scabbards droppe.
He hath a very peece of that same Chaire,
In which Cæsar was stabb'd: Is it not rare?
He with his feete vpon the stoones did tread,
That Sathan brought, & bad Christ make thē bread.
His wondrous trauels challenge such renowne,
That Sir Iohn Maundiuell is quite put downe.
Men without heades, and Pigmies hand-bredth hie,
Those with one legge that on their backes do lie,
And do the weathers iniurie disdaie,
Making their legges a penthouse for the raine:
Are tut, and tush: not any thing at all.
His knowledge knowes, what no mans notice shal
This is a mate vnmeete for euery groome,
And where he comes, peace, giue his lying roome.
He saw a Hollander in Middleborow,
As he was flashing of a browne Loafe thorow,
Where-to the haste of hunger had inclyn'd him,
Cut himselfe through, & two that stood behind him
Besides, he saw a fellow put to death,
Could drinke a whole Beere barrell at a breath.
Oh this is he that will say any thing,
That to himselfe may any profite bring.
Gainst whosoeuer he doth speake he cares not,
For what is it that such a villaine dares not?
And though in conscience he cannot denie,
The All-commaunder saith, Thou shalt not lie,
Yet will he answere (carelesse of soules state)
Trueth telling, is a thing obtaineth hate.

2. SATYRE.

[A man may tell his friend his fault in kindnes]

A man may tell his friend his fault in kindnes:
To winke at folly, is a foolish blindnes.
God saue you sir, saluteth with a grace,
One he could wish neuer to see his face.
But doth not he vse meere dissimulation,
That's inside hate, and outside salutation?
Yes as I take it; yet his answere sayes,
Fashions, and Customes, vse it now a dayes.
A Gentleman perhaps may chaunce to meete
His liuing-griper face to face in streete:
And though his lookes are odious vnto sight;
Yet will he doe him the French congés right,
And in his hart wish him as low as hell,
When in his wordes, hee's glad to see him well:
Then being thus, a man may soone suppose
There is, God saue you sir, sometimes twixt foes.
Oh sir, why thats as true as you are heere,
With one example I will make it cleere,
And farre to fetch the same I will not goe,
But into Heunds-ditch, to the Brokers row:
Or any place where that trade doth remaine,
Whether at Holborne Conduit, or Long-lane:
If thyther you vouchsafe to turne your eye,
And see the Pawnes that vnder forfayre lye,
Which are foorth comming sir, and safe enough
Sayes good-man Broker, in his new print ruffe:
He will not stand too strictly on a day,
Encouraging the party to delay;
With all good wordes, the kindest may be spoke,
He turnes the Gentleman out of his Cloake.
And yet betweene them both, at euery meeting,
God saue you sir, is their familiar greeting,
This is much kindnesse sure, I pray commend him,
With great good words, he highly doth befrend him
It is a fauour at a pinch in neede:
A pinching friendship, and a pinching deede.
The slaue may weare his suites of Sattin so,
And like a man of reputation go,
When all he hath in house, or on his backe,
It is his owne, by forfaytures shipwracke.
See you the Brooch that long ins Hat hath bin?
It may be there, it cost him not a pin:
His sundry sorts of diuers mens attyre,
He weares them cheape, euen at his owne desire.
Shame ouer take the pessant for his paine,
That he should pray on losses, to his gaine,
In drawing Wardrobes vnder his subiection,
Being a knaue in manners and complexion,
Iumpe like to Vsurie, his nearest kinne;
That weares a money bagge vnder his chinne:
A bunch that doth resemble such a shape,
And hayred like to Paris garden Ape,
Foaming about the chaps like some wilde Boore,
As swart and tawnie as an India Moore:
With narrow brow, and Squirrell eyes, he showes,
His faces chiefest ornament, is nose,
Full furnished with many a Clarret staine,
As large as any Codpice of a Dane,
Embossed curious; euery eye doth iudge,
His lacket faced with motheaten Budge:
To which a paire of Satten sleeues he weares,
Wherein two pound of greace about he beares.
His Spectacles do in a copper case,
Hang dangling about his pissing place.
His breeches and his hose, and all the rest
Are sutable: His gowne (I meane his best)
Is full of threeds, Intitul'd right threed-bare:
But wooll there on is wondrous scant and rare.
The welting hath him in no charges stood,
Beeing the ruines of a cast French hood.
Excesse is sinfull, and he doth defie it,
A sparing whorson in attire and diet.
Only excesse is lawfull in his Chest,
For there he makes a golden Angels nest:
And vowes no farder to be found a lender,
Then that most pretious mettall doth engender:
Begetting dayly more and more encrease,
His monyes slaue, till wretched life surcease.
This is the Iew alied very neere,
vnto the Broker, for they both do beare
Vndoubted testimonie of their kinne:
A brace of Rascals in a league of sinne.
Two filthy Curres that will on no man fawne,
Before they tast the sweetnesse of his pawne.
And then the slaues will be as kinde forsooth,
Not as Kind-hart, in drawing out a tooth:
For he doth ease the Patient of his paine,
But they disease the Borrower of his gaine.
Yet neither of them vse extremitie,
They can be villaines euen of charitie.
To lend our brother it is meete and fit:
Giue him rost meate and beat him with the spit.
Vserie sure is requisite and good,
And so is Brokeage, rightly vnderstood:
But soft a litle, what is he saye, so?
One of the twaine (vpon my life) I know.

3. SATIRE.

[Oh, let the Gentlewoman haue the wall]

Oh, let the Gentlewoman haue the wall,
I know her well; tis Mistris, What d'ye call.
It should be shee, both by her Maske and Fanne:
And yet it should not, by her Seruing-man;
For if mine eyes do not mistake the foole,
He is the Vsher of some dauncing Schole,
The reason why I do him such suppose,
Is this, Mee thinkes he daunceth as he goes.
An actiue fellow, though he be but poore,
Eyther to vault vpon a Horse, or &c.
See you the huge bum Dagger at his backe,
To which no Hilt nor Iron he doth lacke.
Oh with that blade he keepes the queanes in awe,
Brauely behacked, like a two-hand Saw.
Stampes on the ground, & byteth both his thumbs
Vnlesse he be commaunder where he coms.
You damned whores, where are you? quicke come heere,
Dry this Tabacco. Fill a dosen of Beere:
Will you be briefe? or long you to be bang'd?
Hold, take this Match, go light it and be hang'd.
Where stay these whores when Gent. do call?
Heer's no attendaunce (by the Lord) at all.
Then downe the staires the pots in rage he throws
And in a damned vaine of swearing growes,
For he will challenge any vnder heau'n,
To sweare with him, and giue him sixe at seuen.
Oh, he is an accomplish'd Gentleman,
And many rare conceited knackes he can;
Which yeeld to him a greater store of gaine,
Then iuggling Kings, hey Passe, ledgerdemaine.
His witt's his lyuing: one of quaint deuice,
For Bowling-allies, Cockpits, Cardes, or Dice,
To those exploytes he euer standes prepar'd:
A Villaine excellent at a Bum card.
The Knaue of Clubbes he any time can burne,
And finde him in his boosome, for his turne.
Tut, he hath Cardes for any kind of game,
Primero, Saunt, or whatsoeuer name:
Make him but dealer, all his fellowes sweares,
If you do finde good dealing, take his eares.
But come to Dice, why that's his onely trade,
Michell Mum-chaunce, his owne inuention made.
He hath a stocke, whereon his lyuing stayes,
And they are Fullams, and Bard quarter-trayes:
His Langrets, with his Hie men, and his low,
Are ready what his pleasure is to throw:
His stopt Dice with Quick-siluer neuer misse.
He calles for, Come on fiue; and there it is:
Or else heele haue it with fiue and a reach,
Although it cost his necke the Halter stretch.
Besides all this same kind of cheating art,
The Gentleman hath some good other part,
Well seene in Magicke and Astrologie,
Flinging a Figure wondrous handsomly,
Which if it do not misse, it sure doth hit:
Of troth the man hath great store of small witt.
And note him wheresoeuer that he goes,
His Booke of Characters is in his hose.
His dinner he will not presume to take,
Ere he aske counsell of an Almanacke.
Heele finde if one prooue false vnto his wife,
Onely with Oxe blood, and a rustic knife.
He can transforme himselfe vnto an Asse,
Shew you the Deuill in a Christall glasse:
The Deuill say you? why I, is that such wonder?
Being consortes, they will not be a sunder.
Alcumie in his braines so sure doth settle,
He can make golde of any copper kettle;
Within a three weekes space or such a thing,
Riches vpon the whole worlde he could bring.
But in his owne purse one shall hardly spie it,
Witnesse his Hostesse, for a twelue-moneths diet:
Who would be glad of golde or siluer either,
But sweares by chalke, & post, she can get neither.
More, he will teach any to gaine their loue,
As thus (saies he) take me a Turtle Doue,
And in an Ouen let her lie and bake
To dry, that you may poulder of her make:
Which being put into a cup of wine,
The wenche that drinkes it will to loue incline:
And shall not sleepe in quiet in her bed,
Till she be eased of her mayden-head.
This is probatum, and it hath bin tride,
Or else the cunning man cunningly lide.
It may be so, a lie is not so strange,
Perhaps he spake it when the Moone did change
And thereupon (no doubt) th'occasion sprunge,
Vnconstant Luna, ouer rul'd his tongue.
Astronomers that traffique with the Skie,
By common censure sometimes meete the lie:
Although in deede their blame is not so much,
When Starres & Plannets faile, & keepe not tutch.
And so this fellow with his large profession,
That endes his triall in a farre digression:
Philosophers be queathed him their stone,
To make gold with, yet can his purse hold none.

4. SATIRE.

[Melfluuious, sweete Rose-watred elloquence]

Melfluuious , sweete Rose-watred elloquence,
Thou that hast hunted Barbarisme hence,
And taught the goodman Cobbin at his plow,
To be as elloquent as Tullie now:
Who nominicates his Bread and Cheese a name,
(That doth vntrusse the nature of the same)
His stomacke stayer. How dee like the phrase?
Are Plowmen simple fellowes now a dayes?
Not so my Maisters: What meanes Singer then?
And Pope the Clowne, to speake so Boorish, when
They counterfaite the clownes vpon the Stage?
Since Countrey fellowes grow in this same age,
To be so quaint in their new printed speech,
That cloth will now compare with Veluet breech
Let him discourse euen where, and when he dare,
Talke nere so Ynk-horne learnedly and rare,
Sweare Cloth breech is a pessant (by the Lord)
Threaten to draw his wrath-venger, his sworde:
Tush, Cloth-breech doth deride him with a laugh,
And lets him see Bone-baster, thats his staffe:
Then tels him brother, friend, or so foorth, heare ye
Tis not your knitting-needle makes me feare ye.
If to ascention you are so declinde,
I haue a restitution in my minde:
For though your beard do stand so fine mustated,
Perhaps your nose may be transfisticated.
Man, I dare challenge thee to throw the sledge,
To iumpe or leape ouer a ditch or hedge,
To wrasile, play a stooleball, or to runne,
To pitch the barre, or to shoote off a gunne,
To play at loggets, nine holes, or ten pinnes,
To trie it out at foot-ball by the shinnes;
At Ticktacke, Irish, Noddie, Maw, and Ruffe:
At hot-cockles, leape-frogge, or blindman-buffe.
To drinke halfe pots, or deale at the whole canne:
To play at base, or pen-and Ynk-horne sir Ihan:
To daunce the Morris, play at barly-breake:
At all exploytes a man can thinke or speake:
At shoue-groate, venter-poynt, or crosse and pile.
At beshrow him that's last at yonder stile,
At leaping ore a Midsommer bon-fier,
Or at the drawing Dun out of the myer:
At any of these, or all these presently,
Wagge but your finger, I am for you, I.
I scorne (that am a youngster of our towne)
To let a Bow-bell Cockney put me downe.
This is a Gallant farre beyond a Gull,
For very valour filles his pockets full.
Wit showers vpon him Wisedomes raine in plenty,
For heele be hangd, if any man finde twenty
In all their parish, whatsoere they be,
Can shew a head so polleticke as he.
It was his fathers lucke of late to die
Untestate; he about the Legacie
To London came, inquiring all about,
How he might finde a Ciuill-villin out,
Being vnto a Ciuill Lawyer sent,
Pray Sir (quoth he) are you the man I meant:
That haue a certaine kind of occupation,
About dead men, that leaue things out of fashion:
Death hath done that which t'answere he's not able
My father he is dyed detestable:
I being his eldest heire, he did prefer
Me Sir, to be his Executioner:
And verie breifly my request to finnish,
Pray how may I by law, his goods diminnish?
Was this a Clowne? tell true, or was a none?
You make fatte Clownes, if such as he be one:
A man may sweare, if he were vrg'd to it.
Foolisher fellowes, haue not so much wit.
Oh such as he, are euen the onely men,
Loue letters in a Minke-maydes praise to pen:
Lines that will worke the curstest sullen shrow,
To loue a man whether she will or no.
Being most wonderous patheticall,
To make Cisse out a cry in loue withall:
He scornes that maister Scholemaister shold think
He wants his aide in halfe a pen of ynke:
All that he doth it commeth euery whit,
From natures dry-fat, his owne mother wit.
Thou Fionny suckle of the Hawthorne hedge,
Vouchsafe in Cupids cuppe my hart to pledge,
My hartes deare blood sweete Cis as thy carouse,
Worth all the Ale on Gammer Gubbins house:
I say no more, affaires call me away,
My Fathers horse for prouender doth stay.
Be thou the Lady Cresser-light to mee,
Sir Trollelolle I will proue to thee.
Written in haste: farewell my Cowslippe sweete,
Pray lets a Sunday at the Ale-house meete.

5. SATYRE.

[Tis a bad world, the common speach doth go]

Tis a bad world, the common speach doth go,
And he complaines, that helpes to make it so:
Yet euery man th'imputed crime would shunne,
Hipocrisie with a fine threed is spunne.
Each striues to shew the very best in seeming,
Honest enough, if honest in esteeming.
Praise waites vpon him now with much renowne
That wrappes vp Uices vnder Uertues gowne:
Commending with good wordes, religious deedes
To helpe the poore, supply our neighbours needs:
Do no man wrong, giue euery man his owne,
Be friend to all, and enemie to none;
Haue charitie, auoyde contentious strife,
Oft he speakes thus, that nere did good in's life,
Derision hath an ore in euery Boate,
In's Neighbours eie he quickly spies a moate,
But the great beame that's noted in his owne,
He lets remaine, and neuer thinkes thereon.
Some do report he beares about a sacke,
Halfe hanging forwards, halfe behind at's backe:
And his owne faultes (quight out of sight & minde)
He casles into the part that hanges behinde:
But other mens, he putteth in before,
And into them, he looketh euermore.
Contempt comes very neere to th'others vaine,
He hates all good deserts with proud disdaine:
Rashnesse is his continuall walking mate,
Costly apparreld, loftie in his gate:
Vp to the eares in double ruffes and startch,
God blesse your eiesight when you see him march:
Statutes, and lawes, he dare presume to breake,
Against superiors cares not what he speake.
It is his humours recreation fittes,
To beate Counstables, and resist all writtes,
Swearing the ripest wits are childish young;
Vnlesse they gaine instructions from his tongue.
Thers nothing done amongst the very best,
But he'le deride it with some bitter iest.
It's meate and drinke vnto him alwayes, when
He may be censuring of other men.
If a man do but toward a Tauerne looke,
He is a drunkard heele sweare on a Booke:
Or if one part a fray of good intention,
He is a quarreller, and loues dissention.
Those that with silence vaine discourses breake,
Are proud fantasticks, that disdaine to speake.
Such as speake soberly with wisedomes leasure,
Are fooles, that in affected speach take pleasure,
If he heare any that reproueth vice,
He sayes, thers none but hipocrites so nice.
No honest woman that can passe along,
But must endure some scandall from his tongue.
She, deales crosse blowes her husband neuer feeles:
This Gentle woman, weareth capering heeles.
There minces Mall, to see what youth wil like her,
Her eyes do beare her witnesse she's a striker.
Yonders a wench, new dipt in beauties blaze,
She, is a Maide as Maides go now adayes.
And thus Contempt makes choisest recreation,
In holding euery one in detestation:
His common gate is of the ietting size,
He hath a paire of euer-staring eyes.
And lookes a man so hungry in the face,
As he would eate him vp, and neare say grace.
A little low cround Hatte he alwayes weares,
And Fore-horse-like therein a Feather beares.
Goodly curld lockes; but surely tis great pitty,
For want of kembing, they are beastly nitty.
His doublet is a cut cast Satten one,
He scornes to buy new now, that nere bought none
Spotted in diuers places with pure fat,
Knowne for a right tall trencher man by that.
His Breeches that came to him by befrending,
Are desperate like himselfe, & quite past mending
He takes a common course to goe vntrust,
Except his Shirt's a washing; then he must
Goe woollward for the time: hee scornes it hee,
That worth two Shirts his Laundresse should him see.
The weapons that his humors do efford,
Is Bum-dagger, and basket hilted Sword.
And these in euery Bawdie house are drawne
Twice in a day, vnlesse they be at pawne.
If any fall together by the eares,
To field cries he; why? zownes (to field) he sweares
Shew your selues men: hey, slash it out with blowes
Let won make tothers guts garter his hose,
Make Steele and lion vmpiers to the Fray,
You shall haue me goe with, to see faire play:
Let mee alone, for I will haue a care
To see that one do kill the to ther faire.
This is Contempt, that's euery ones disdayner,
The strife pursuer, and the peace refrayner:
Hates thunderbolt, damn'd Murders larum-bell,
A neare deare Kinsman to the Diuell of hell:
And he whom Sathan to this humor bringes,
Is th'only man for all detested thinges.

6. SATYRE.

[Tom's no good fellow, nor no honest man]

Tom's no good fellow, nor no honest man:
Hang him, he wold not pledge Ralfe halfe a can
But if a friend may speake as he doth thinke,
Will is a right good fellow by this drinke:
Oh William, William, th'art as kind a youth,
As euer I was drunke with, thats the trueth.
Tom is no more like thee, then Chalks like Cheese
To pledge a health, or to drinke vp-se freese:
Fill him his Beaker, he will neuer flinch,
To giue a full quart pot the emptie pinch.
Heele looke vnto your water well enough.
And hath an eye that no man leaues a snuffe.
A pox of peecemeale drinking (William sayes)
Play it away, weele haue no stoppes and stayes,
Blowne drinke is odious, what man can disiest it,
No faythfull drunkard, but he doth detest it.
I hate halfe this, out with it, and an end,
He is a buzard will not pledge his friend,
But standes as though his drinkes mast-sacke were closed
with, Heer's t'ye Sir, against you are disposed?
How say my friend, an may I be so bold,
Blowing on's Beere like broth to make it cold,
Keeping the full glasse till it stand and sower,
Drinking but after halfe a mile an hower,
Vnworthy to make one, or gaine a place,
Where boone companions gage the pots apace.
A mans a man, and therewithall an ende,
Good fellowship was bred and borne to spende,
No man ere saw a pound of sorrow yet,
Could be allowd to pay an ounce of debt.
We may be here to day, and gone to morrow.
Call mee for sixe pots more come on, hang sorrow
Tut, lacke another day? Why, tis all one,
When we are dead, then all the world is gone.
Begin to me good Ned: What? hast gon right?
Is it the same that tickeld mee last night?
We gaue the Brewers Diet-drinke a wipe:
Braue Malt-Tabacco in a quart pot-pipe,
It nettld mee, and did my braines inspire,
I haue forsworne your drinking smoake and fier:
Out vpon Cane and leafe Tabacco smell:
Diuells take home your drinke, keepe it in hell.
Carowse in Cannons Trinidado smoake,
Drinke healths to one another till you choake,
And let the Indians pledge you till they sweate,
Giue me the element that drowneth heate:
Strong sodden Water is a vertuous thing,
It makes one sweate, and swagger like a King,
And hath more hidden Uertue then you thinke,
For Ile maintaine, good liquor's meate and drinke:
Nay, Ile goe further with you, for in troth,
It is as good as meate, and drinke, and cloth;
For he that is in Malt-mans Hall inrolde,
Cares not a poynt for hunger nor for colde.
If it be cold, he drinketh till he sweate,
If it be hot, he drinkes to lay the heate:
So that how ere it be cold or hot,
To pretious vse he doth apply the pot:
And will approue it Phisically sound,
If it be drunke vpon the Danish round:
Or taken with a Pickle-herring or two,
As Flemmings at Saint Katherines vse to do:
Which fish hath vertue, eaten salt and raw,
To pull drinke to it, euen as leate doth straw.
Oh tis a very Whetstone to the braine,
A march-beere shewer that puts downe April raine
It makes a man actiue to leape and spring,
To daunce and vault, to carrowle and to sing:
For all exploytes it doth a man inable,
T'out leape mens heades, and caper ore the table,
To burne Sacke with a candle till he reeles,
And then to trip-vp his companions heeles.
To sing like the great Organ pipe in Poules,
And censure all men vnder his controules.
Against all commers ready to maintaine,
That deepest wit is in a drunken braine.
I marry is it; that it is he knowes it,
And by this drinke, at all times will depose it,
He sayes, that day is to a minute shrunke,
In which he makes not some good fellow drunke:
As for nine worthies on his Hostes wall,
He knowes three worthy drunkards passe them all
The first of them in many a Tauerne tride,
At last subdued by Aquavitæ, dide.
His second Worthies date was brought to fine,
Feasting with Oysters and braue Rennish wine,
The third, whom diuers Dutchmen held full deare,
Was stabb'd by pickeld Hearings & strong Beere.
Well, happy is the man doth rightly know,
The vertue of three cuppes of Chornice:
Being taken fasting, th'only cure for Flegme,
It worketh wonders on the braine, extreame.
A pottle of wine at morning, or at night,
Drunke with an Apple, is in ployed right
To rince the Liuer, and to purifie
A dead sicke Hart from all infirmitie.