Pleasant dialogues and dramma's :: :: University of Virginia Library

Against a base and infamous Balladder, who disperst a scandalous riming Libell, in which hee malitiously traduced the noble exercises weekely practised in the Artillery Garden.

I conclude this Worke, suiting with the present, concerning the worth of Physick, and Physitians, deriving my president from a worthy Gentleman called M. Perisaulus Faustinus.

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Against a base and infamous Balladder, who disperst a scandalous riming Libell, in which hee malitiously traduced the noble exercises weekely practised in the Artillery Garden.

What mightst thou be I wonder? whose bald rime
Thus railes against the vertues of our time,
Of what birth? name? what nation? what degree?
Since thou conceal'st these from the world and me,
I will enquire: well-bred thou art not sure;
No generous spirit could ever yet indure
To heare a Souldier branded: Such love Armes,
And grace the practise of our loud alarmes,
Our quick and active postures they admire,
Which teach us when to charge, and when retire.
This proves thee borne out of some dunghill race,
That nere durst looke a Souldier in the face.
Then of what name? I'st so dark and obscure,
Or else so blur'd, it dares not now indure
The Sunne and Day? but Owle-like is it gone,
And forfeited to night? or hast thou none?
Or wast once good? let this afflict thee most,
Thou art halfe hang'd, for thy good name is lost.

Then of what Country? Didst thou never heare
Of Talbot, Norris, Essex, Sidney, Vere?
Or hast thou of our conquering Princes read,
And durst affirme thou wert in England bred,
Scotland or Ireland? Kingdomes, that still affoord
Armes Nursery, and Souldiers of the sword?
Sure th'art not French; unlesse thou wert begot
In their disease, the pocks, and therefore not
Sound in thy joynts, and that's the cause, thou here
Rayl'st'gainst these Armes thou hast not limbs to beare.

Then from what Country, nation? from what straine
Canst thou derive thy being? not from Spaine,
For all their prid's in Armes, a Souldiers name

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As the earths glory, at which most they ayme.

To Italy for birth-right shouldst thou flye,
Cæsar himselfe would give thee then the lye,
With thousand valiant Romanes, and all sweare
A Groome so base had never breeding there.
So of all others; Nay thy impudent worke
Would blush the very person of a Turke.
Their Bashaes and their Ianisaries be
Bold Leaders, and approv'd for Chivalree.

Were not the Worthies Souldiers? (worthles slave,)
A title that antiquity first gave,
To eternize them; and others to aspire
To the like height; That we might ours admire,
As former ages them: For thy degree
I cannot thinke how I may censure thee.

Art thou a Citizen? and canst repine
At practise of such needfull discipline?
If so; thou art some bastard, and 'twere pitty
But all like thee were spew'd out of the City.

Thou art no Scholler; Arts and Armes conspire.
Schollers praise Armes, we Souldiers Arts admire.
Nay art thou Christian? that with rymes so vaine
Durst taske the divine Pulpit? O prophane
And irreligious wretch: good subject? No
Such thou art not, whose obscene meeters flow
To'th jangling Musick of each Fidlers string,
'Gainst that which Patrons Country, peace, and King.

Since neither then good Subject, Christian; nor
One that loves Arts; whom City doth abhor,
And Country hath disclaim'd, one whom no clime
But is asham'd to challenge, whose base ryme
Hath forfeited his name, and obscure birth
From every language, Nation, from all earth;
I thus conclude. To which sound Drum and Fife
He'hath lost his name, why should hee keepe his life?

FINIS.