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Facetiae. Musarum deliciaeior, The muses
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THE MUSES RECREATION,
WIT RESTOR'D,
AND
WITS RECREATIONS.
^
Musarum Delicise :
The Muses Recreation.
conteining severall pieces of poetique wit.
By S'. J. M. and Ja: S. 1636.
Wit Restor'd,
in severall select poems, not formerly publish'!. 1658.
Wits Recreations,
selected from the finest fancies of modeme muses,
with a thousand out-landish proverbs. 1640.
The whole diligently compared with the Originals; with all the Wood
Engravings, Plates, Memcnrs, and Notes.
New Edition.
With additional Notes, Indexes, and a portrait of Sir John Mennis, K'.-.
In two Volumes.
Vol. I.
London :
JOHN CAMDEN HOTTEN, PICCADILLY.
ADVERTISEMENT.
OF the poets of the Restoration there are none whose
wotks are more rare than those of Sir John Mennis,
and Dr. James Smith. The small volume entitled
" Musarum Delicim or ike Muses Recreations," which
contains the productions of these two friends, was not
accessible to Mr. Freeman when he compiled his " Kentish
Poets;" and has since become so rare that it is now only to
he found in the cabinets of the curious.*
A reprint (limited to 150 copies) of the "Musarum
Delicice,'' together with several kindred pieces of the same
period, appeared in 18 17, forming two volumes of Facetice,
edited by Mr. E. Dubois,- author of " The Wreath^' &c.,
and these volumes have in turn become exceedingly scarce, t
The publisher has therefore ventured to put forth the
present New Edition, in which it will be found that, while
nothing has been omitted, great pains have been taken to
render it more complete and elegant than any that has yet
appeared. The type, plates, and woodcuts of the originals
have been accurately followed, and the notes of the editor
6f 181 7 considerably augmented. Indexes have also been
added, together with a portrait of Sir John Mennis from a
painting by Vandyke in Lord Clarendon's collection.
* This small volume, a l2mo of 101 pages, realized £,1 13s. at the
sale of the Rev. T. Corser's library by Messrs. Sotheby and Co. in
1870, and has since fetched ;f3 los.
+ A copy was recently catalogued at £^ 5s,
PREFACE
THE EDITION OF 1817.
THESE Faceti^, ox drolleries, having been committed
to the care of the present editor by the pubHshers,
who were desirous of a limited reprint of them for the con-
venience and satisfaction of the curious in such rarities of
" th' olden time," it now becomes his duty more minutely to
explain the nature of the undertaking.
It is here proposed to form two volumes of three distinct
publications ; Musarum Delicti ; Wit Restor'd ; and
Wit's Recreations. The first and second are given entire,
as they appear in editions 1656 and 1658. The third. Wit's
Recreations, is reprinted after the collation of four editions,
1640-41-54 and 63, for the purpose of bringing together in
one body all the various articles spread throughout, and not
to be found in any one edition. For instance, there are
many pieces in ed. 1640 that are not in 1641, many in 1641
not in 1640, and many in 1640 and 1641 not in 1654, and
vice versA. The edit. 1663* is a reprint of 1654, with a
* There are, as the editor reads in the Censura Literaria, two later
editions, one of 1667 and the other of 1683, but he has been unable to
b2
viii Preface.
small addition towards the end, from " On a patched up
Madam," to " The farewell to love and to his mistresse,"
inclusive. The first edition, 1640, contains neither the
plates,* nor the Fancies and Fantasticks, nor the lines " ad
Lector em."
The titles to these books are replete with delightful
promise. Musarum Delicice is potently attractive ; Wits
meet with them. A MS. note remarks that the frontispiece in edit.
1667 is retouched, and MarihaWs name erased. It is to be observed
that the date at the end of ed. 1654 is 1667.
* This statement was made on the authority of several copies of the
date 1640, when the editor accidentally met Mr. P. Bliss, of St. John's,
Oxford, to whom he is obliged for the information, that the copy 1640,
in the Bodleian, has a frontispiece, which differs from the one here
engraved in the following particulars. The two compartments on the
right (as it is viewed) of the plate 1640, represent, the one above, a bee-
hive and a swarm, with the words "«»» nobis" inscribed on it; and
the lower one, "windy musick," such as a bag-pipe, flute, trumpet, &c.
On the opposite page is an explanation in twelve verses, where, instead
of the couplet :
" 'Vcasfoole, that knave, stands here to th' view of others,
" To shew that in the book th'ave many brothers,"
are introduced, or rather there stood originally, these four lines
explanatory :
" These painefull Bees, presented to thy view,
" Shewes th' Author works not for kimselfe, but you.
" The windy musick, that salutes thine eye,
• ' Bespeakes thine eare, thy judgement standing by."
The title on the table in the middle runs thus :
"Witts Recreations, selected from the finest fancies of modernt
Muses, mth a Thousand out-Landish Proverbs."
These Proverbs, a copy in the valuable collection of Mr. James
Perry has, with his kind permission, supplied.
Preface. ix
■.Recreations exceedingly fascinating : and Wit Restor'd is
enough to make one jump for joy. The reader really " stupet
in TiTULis." Yet is it to be feared that what was said of
SulpicicHs, often but too truly describes our author's
" DELICIAS, FACETIASQUE.
" Cujus Carmina qui bene (EstimarU,
" Nitllam dixerit esse nequiorem."
It is confessed that there are pieces, which display some
very poetical and harmonious numbers, and it may also be
affirmed that there is no want of wit and pleasantry,. but the
lack of grace and bienstance is superabundant ; for which it
may be doubted whether by any, except the black-letter
tribe. Sir William Padys excuse will be received :
" 1 dare assure 'em,
" Though't be contra modestiam, 'tis not contra naturem."
Mus. Del. p. 69.
No apology is necessary to those for whom this pubUca-
tion is almost exclusively intended, as the editor has
frequently remarked that very grave collectors can smile
with infinite complacency on impurities in an old book, no
particle of which would for an instant be endured by them
in a new one. This love and reverence for the antique
mother is not however peculiar to them, as it is not rarely
seen in classical old gentlemen of much piety and worth,
who, though they would frown the utterer of an English
double entendre into dust, will chuckle at and enjoy a
quotation from Juvenal, or Horace, or certain Latin
epigrams, which, if translated and delivered in societies, by
X Preface.
no means puritanical, would speedily send the speaker on
his travels by the nearest outlet, door or window.
The wits of other days were remarkably facetious and
happy in the formation of title-pages; like signs at a fair,
they are often the best part of the exhibition ; and there
you may stop if you please —
^'Lemmata si qutsris cur sint adscripta, docebo :
" Ut, si malueris, lemmata sola legos."
To the title and frontispiece of a copy of " Witts Recrea-
tions, 1641," is suffixed this couplet in MS.
" Take my advice, no fitrther look,
" This only page is worth thi book,"
which seems to have been borrowed from some other title-
page, probably more worthy of it. But as these titles are
such important matters, it will be just not to defraud the
reader of the variety of the editions of Wits Recreations.
Edit. 1 641.
" Wits Recreations. Containing
630 Epigrams.
160 Epitaphs.
Fancies
Variety of ■ and
. Fantasticks
Good for melancholly humours.
Mart. Non. cuique datur habere nasum.
London, Printed by Thomas Cotes, for Humphry
Blunden at the Castle in Corn-hill. 1641."
Of
Preface^ xi
Edit. 1634.
"Recreation for ingenious HSad-peeces. Or. a pLEASAiJT
Grove for their Wits to walk in.
Epigrams 700,
Epita,phs 20a
Fancies, a number.
.Fantasticks, abundance
"With their addition, multiplication, and division.
Mart. Non cuique datur habere nasum.
London, Printed by Mi Siintnohs, in Aldersgate-Street,
At the end we have tlie date " 1667*"
Edit. 1663 differs from the last in nothing but the datCj
aiid " S." for M. Simmons. The date 1663 is repeated after
Wit's Recreations bektg a mass oijeiix d'esprit, written
and collected at various periods, it would be idle to attempt
to speak df the authors ; but tiie editor has given sotne
account of Sir John Mennis and Dr. James Smith, which,
as their names respect the MusamM Etdicim; and Wit Re-
stor'd, will, it is hoped, at this hour of the day, be found
reasonably satisfactory.
Notes might be written, a« they have: been in better cases,,
to a surfeit, supplying a gloss to obsolete terms, explaining
allusions, and pointing out borrowers, who have exercised
all the freedom of Englishmen, perfectly uncontaminated
with their honesty.* This would here however be " in tmui
* Itos literaiy freebooting has always obtained, but it undoubtedly
appears in a very uncommon point of view, when we find sorrte of
xii Preface.
labor;' and very small the glory. Still, as a specimen,
which may be agreeable to those, who make researches into
such trifles, for there are yet some, who praise
- a note
" More than the verse, on which the Critic wrote,"*
a few illustrative comments shall be. offered.
Remembering the fatal consequence of scouring ; the
Connoisseur's Roman Vase, the editor has not presumed
to brush off any of the sacred dust from these volumes.
Here is the ancient metal with all its precious osrugo — ^the
spelling and what not being carefully preserved, and sent
forth, according to the edition printed from, with rarely a
single imperfection removed to warrant the gentlest sigh of
doting lamentation.
" Carmine. The very mutilatioTis of this piece are worth all
the most perfect performances of modern artists..
Baron de Groningen. Upon my honour, 'tis a very
fine bust ; but where is de nose ?
our most approved Irish Balls in the osreio of Hierocles, the phtcmic
philosopher I Take, for a sample, the first in his collectitMi, which
shall be given in his own words, as it can have no claim to novelty in
any other shape.
2x<'Xo<''"f OS KoKviiP(}v pov\o/ievos rapa lUKpov eirviyri. Q/io<r€V ow
/ti; &,^air6ai iSarm, eav lari irpurov piaSji KoKvnPq.v.
* Lord Byron's Thoughts suggested by a College Examination.
1807.
Preface. xiii
Novice. The nose ; what care I for the nose ? Where is
de nose ? Why, sir, if it had a nose, I would not give six-
pence for it — How the devil should we distinguish the works
of the ancients, if they were perfect V Foote's Taste, act ii.
This is the inscription, which these authors ought to have
placed over their threshold :
Si quis tarn ambitiosh tristis est, ut apud ilium in nullA
pagind, Latinl loqui sat est, potest Titulo contentus esse.
Epigrammata illis scribuntur, qui solent spedare Morales,
Non intret Cato theatrum nostrum.
Mart. Epist. ad Lectorem.
January, 1817.
CONTENTS.
THE MUSES RECREATION.
FAG]g
Advertisement v
The Preface vii
Memoirs of Sir John Mennis 3
Memoirs of Dr. James Smith lo
To Parson Weeks, an invitation to London 19
To a friend tipon a journey to Epsam Well 21
To a friend upon his Marriage 26
In answer to certaine Letters which he received from London
whilst he was engaged to follow the Camp 28
In answer to this last, or some such like Letter 3O
Description of three Beauties 32
A journey into France 35
Hankins Heigh-ho 4t
Some Gentlemen shut out of their seats in Pauls while they
went to drink 43
' Upon a lame tired Horse 44
Upon a Surfeit caught by drinking bad Sack at the George
Tavern in Southwark . 46
The Lowse's Peregrination 48
King Oberon's Apparell 49
A Poet's farewell to his thred bare Clbak 52
Upon a Fart unluckily let 55
A young Man courting an old Widow 57
Upon Chesse-play. To Dr. Budden 59
The loose Wooer 63
Upon the biting of Fleas 64
Upon, Madam Chevereuze swimming over the Thames . 66
Upon Aglaura in folio 68
Upon Lute-strings Cat-eaten 69
xvl Contents.
PAGBl
To a Lady vexed with a Jealous Husband 72
Invitation to dalliance 75
The Countreymans Song in the " Spanish Curate "... 75
Upon the sight of an old decay'd patch'd Bed, with a Pillow
having T.R. as a marke on it 76
A letter to Sir John Mennis when the Parliament denied
the King Money to pay the Army, &c 80
The Fart censured in the Parliament House 82
The Farts Epitaph 88
Will Bagnalls Ballet 88
Dr. Smiths Ballet 91
Upon Sir John Sucklings most warlike preparations for
the Scotish Warre 96
The old Cloaks reply to the Poets Farewell 98
Partus Chaucheri posthumus Gulielmi Nelson .... 99
Upon the same loi
Imitatio Chauceri altera, in Eundem 102
The Nightingale 104
Epitaph on Mistrisse Mary Prideaux 105
Upon Drinking in the Crown of a Hat 106
An Epitaph upon Doctor Prideauxs Son 107
On his Mistrisse having the Green sicknesse 108
Upon the naked Bedlams, and spotted Beasts we see in
Covent Garden 109
To Sir John Mennis on a rich prize which he took on the
Seas 112
A Defiance to K.A. and his round Table. Incipit J.A. . . 1 14
WIT RESTOR'D.
Mr. Smith to Captain Mennis, then commanding a Troop
of Horse in the North, against the Scots 119
The same, to the same 121
The same, to the same 123
The same, to the same 126
The same, to the same 128
The same, to the same 130
Contents. xvii
PAGB
The same, to the same 132
The Gallants of the Times, supposed to be made by Mr.
William Murrey of His Majesties Bed Chamber . . 134
The Answer, by Mr. Peter Apsley 136
The Bursse of Reformation 138
The Answer 142
On S.W.S. and L.P 145
The Tytre-Tues, or A Mock Songe to the Tune of Chive-
Chase. By Mr. George Chambers 147
A Northern Ballet 148
By Mr. Richard Barnslay 151
Ad Johannuelem Leporem 153
Bagnall's Ballet, supplied of what was left out in Musarum
Delicise 157
Mr. Smith, to Sir John Mennis, upon the surrender of
Conway Castle 161
An Answer to a Letter from Sr. John Mennis, wherein he
jeeres him for falling so quickly into the use o'f the
Directory 164
Mr. Smith's taking a Purge 166
The Miller and the King's Daughter, by Mr. Smith . . . 169
Mr. Smith, to Tom Pollard, and Mr. Mering 172
Upon John Felton's hanging in Chaines at Portsmouth . 173
To Felton in the Tower 174
To the Duke of Buckingham 175
To the same 176
The Lawyer 176
The Clients Transcription of the same Copy, having ex-
perienced the contrary 177
The reverend Canvase 177
A non sequitur. by Dr. Corbett . 179
On Oxford SchoUers going to Woodstock to hear Dr.
Corbet preach before the King 180
Horat. 34. Carm. od. 10. ad. Ligurinum 181
To his Mistris 182
Upon a Cobler 182
On the death of the Lord Treasurer 183
The lover's Melancholy ...■...-. 183
xviii Contents.
PAGB
The answer, by Dr. Stroad 184'
A Blush i8s
To his Mistris . . . . » 186
On Christ-church, windpwe, and Magdalen Colledge wall . 186
An Elegie . , 19'
In Imitation of Sir Philip Sydnie's Encomium of Mopsa . 194
A Scholler that sold his Cussion 19S
On the death of Cut. Cobler 196
A letter to Ben. Johnson ............ 196
On a young Lady and her Knight 198
On a Welch-man's devotion 199
On a Maid's Legge 199
To his Sister 20Q
On the death of Hobson, the Cambridge-Carrier .... 200
Another on the same 201
Another 202
Fr. Clark, Porter of St. Johns, to the President .... 203
An Epitaph , 203
A Wife 204
The constant man 204
To his Mistris 205
Swearing 206
On a good Legg and Foot 206
Vpon the view of his Misstresse face in a Glasse .... 208
On Bond the Userer 208
To the Duke of Buckingham 209
The Gentlemans verses before he Killed himselfe . . . 210
A Song in commendation of Musicke 2H
A Dialogue betwixt Cupid and a Country-Swaine . . . 212
Sighes 214-
Weomen 216
On a dissembler 216
To a Friend 217
A Poeticall Poem, by Mr. Stephen Locket to Mistrisse
Bess Sarney 218
Thanks for a welcome 220
To Phillis 221
Women 222
Contmis.. xix
FAGB
The World 222
On his absent Mistresse 224
The Constant Lover 225
The Irish Beggar 226
Answer 228
A Question 229
The Reply 230
The Mock-Song 231
The Moderatrix 233
A discourse between a Poet and a Painter ...... 234
To B. R. for her Bracelets 237
On Tom Holland and Nell Cotton 239
A Welchman 239
A Woman that scratcht her Husband 239
A Mistris 240
One fighting with his wife 240
Ambition '; 241
Upon a Gardiner 241
On his first Love < . . . . 24a
To his Mistris 243
To his letter 244
An Epitaph upon Hurry the Taylor 246
Scylla toothlesse 246
A Vicar 246
On a ribband 247
To a Gentlewoman desiring a copie of Verses 248
On Dr. Corbett's Marriage 248
Mart: Epigr. 59lib: 5 252
In Richardum quendam, Divitem, Avarum 253
In Thomam quendam Catharum 253
Epilogus Incerti Authoris 254
The Innovation of Penelope and Vlysses, Title .... 255
The Epistle Dedicatory 257
Dedicatory Verses —
James Atkins to his Worthy Friend J. S 259
To his Precious Friend J. S 361
Philip Massenger to his Sonne 262
J. Mennis to his deare Friend Mr. J. S 263
Xx Contents.
FACE
Dedicatory Verses {continued)— r-
The Author to the Author 264
The Author to himselfe 267
The Preface to Penelope and Vlysses 369
The Innovation of Vlysses and Penelope 273
The Black-Smith 278
A prologue to the Mayor of Quinborough 284
A Song 285
The drunken Lover 287'
To the tune of The beginning of the World 290
An old Song 293
The Sowgelder's Song in the Beggers-Bush 294
A Song 295.
Phillada flouts me 298
The Milk-maids 301
The old Ballet of shepheard Tom 302 •
Obsequies 305
Of a Taylor and a Lowse 307
The old Ballad of Little Musgrave and the Lady Barnard 308
The Scots arrears 313
Rebellis Scotus „ 316
The Rebell Scot . 31/
MEMOIRS
SIR, JOHN MENNIS,
DR. JAMES SMITH.
VOL. I.
MEMOIRS OF SIR JOHN MENNIS.
THE slight memoirs, which we have to present of Sir
John Mennis, (as the name is properly spelt) are
collected from Anthony Wood ; with such additiohs as our
best researches could supply.
"John MeNNES, the third son oi Andrew Mennes, Esq. ; (by Jane,
his second wife, daughter of Jvhn Blenchendon* , Esq. ;) son of Matthew
Mennes, was bom in the parish of S. Peter, in Sandwich, in Kent, on
the Ilth of May, 1598, and was educated in grammar learning in the
free-school there. In the 17th year of his age, or thereabouts, he
became a Com. of Corp. Ch. Coll. where continuing for some years did
advance himself much in several sorts of learning, especially in humanity
and poetry, and something in history. Afterwards he became a great
traveller, a most noted seaman, and as well skilled in marine affairs,
in building of ships, and all belonging thereunto, as any man in his
time. In the reign of King James I. he had a place in the Navy-office,
* Blenchendfli is the spelling, and not Blenchendon, as Wood writes
it. The Blenchendens are an ancient family of Monkton, in the Isle of
Thanet ; but we believe that this John Blenchenden was of Aldington,
in Kent, who married his cousin Frances, daughter of Thomas Blench-
enden, Esq. , of Monkton, widow of Thomas Epps, of New Romney,
Kent, and widow and relict of Nich. Robinson. So says the monu-
ment of this "modest gentlewoman," who had issue by each of her
husbands. She died Dec. 25, 161 1, wanting only twenty-eight days of
forty-eight years : and what may perhaps be thought a little, oddly ex-
pressed on the marble, ' ' She enjoyed three Husbands. " — Ed.
B 2
4 Memoirs of
and in the reign of King Charles I. was made Controller of it. * In 1636
I find him a militia captain, and in 1639 he was captain of a troop of
horse in the expedition against the Scots. In 1641 I find him a vice-
admiral, and by that title did he receive the honour of Knighthood from
his Majesty at Dover, in the month of February the same year. After-
wards upon the breaking out of the rebellion, he closely adhered to the
cause of his majesty, and in 1642 I find him captain of a ship called the
Rainbtmi, for his njajesty's service, while R<?bert, Earl of Warwick, was
vice-admiral, but how long he continued in that employment I cannot
tell ; sure I am that when his majesty's cause declined, he left the
nation, and for a time adhered to Prince Rupert, while he roved on the
seas against the usurpers in England ; who being successless, he retired
to King Charles II. in exile, took his fortune as other royalists did, yet
aJways in a gay, cheerful, and pierry condition. After the return of
his majesty from his exile, he was made governor of Dwer"^ Castle, and
had the place of Chief Comptroller of the Navy conferred on him, which
he kept to his dying day, being accounted by ^ that knew him to })e ^
honest and stout man, generous and religious, and well skilled in physic
^nd chymistry. This person, who w^s always poetically given, and
therefore his company was delightful to all ingenious ^^ witty joen,
.was autrhor of the gre^tef part of ^ book entit.
"MUSARUM DEWCI/E : pr, ths Mhus recreatunii cojitdnjog ?eve>3l
pieces of poetic wit. Lo^d. 1655. pet. 2d. edi(t. J1656. Jahes SjHXH,
whom I have iaention,ed iwdejr the year j6(57, b^d so gre^t a liafld ip
.that book that he is esteemed tlie a.uthpr aJropst qf Jwlf of it Sir Jf^n
]!i£enms hath ajsp written ;
"Epsom Wells, » poem, printed in qa. and divers other poems,
scattered in other men's >vorks. He hath sJsp extant ^ ipock poe» BP
^ir Will. Davetf/int s»d hi? Gonfiiiert; and did assist, as I h^ve heen
credibly informed. Sir John Suckling in the composition of some of his
* t66i, Nov, 2nd. — " At the office aU the wtwwng ; whene Sir Jolm
Miinnes, our new Comptipller, w*s fetdnad by Sir Wjji. Pen and wys^
from Sir Wm. B^ttea's, & led to bis place i^i .the office. The first tiipse
that he had come thither, and lie spents is a good fair .concJitioB, /awJ
one that I amgla4 hath the office." — Pepys' Djaiy.
■+ Not Dover but Walmer, "Captain ai Waimer C»stle. Jflto
Mennes, appoi»,ted Npy. 10. l^'^ "-^Hasted, Kfnt.. Ajig. U, J-SS?"^
"Petition of Sir John iMenuss, govemor of Wsimsr Ca<«l«."---Cal»»<3v
of State Papers.
Sir yohn Mennis. 5
poetry ; on whom, and his fine troOp of horSe {hat I'afi away, when they
Wet-e to engage with the enemy, he wrote a scoffing ballad. At length,
he having lived beyond the age of man, concluded his last day in the
NaVy Office, in Seething Lake, <<'ithin the city of London, on Saturday,
the l8th of February, 1670 : Whereupon his body was buried at the
Upper end 6f the chaHcel of the church ctf S. Oleics, in Hart Street, oft
the 27th day of the same month. Soon after was a neat monument
erected over his grave, with an inscription thereon, much becoming
the person fot Ivhoftl it was set up. His eldest brother, which his father
had by his first wife Elizabeth War/iam*, was named Mattheu/^i
who was created Knight of the Bath at the coronation of K. Charles 1.
The second was named Thorh-as, who was buried in the church of S.
Peter, in Sand-wich) in Jan. I631." — Athen. Oxon. vol. ii. p. 482.
We have, out of respect for Anthony Wood, transcribed
all that he has said on this headi, and more might be added
from other sources, but we refrain from giving any further
taste of the family tree.
After a diligent search through all the histories of the
civil wars, and the state papers,, we can gather nothing to
our purpose prior to the Restoration, except from Lord
Clarendon.
Of the revolt of the fleet in the reign of Charles I. his
lordship observes :
"The rear-admiral, Sir John MervtieS, who was of unquestionable
integrity, and Captain Burly, were the only two who refused to submit
to the Earl of Warwick, the Parliament high-admiral. They were
quickly discharged, and set on shore, and the rest, without any scruple
or hesitation, obliged themselves to obey the Earl of Warwick in the
* No doubt related to Archbishop Warham. — Ed.
+ Sir Matthew Mennis is, in Anstis Garter's Observations introductory
to an Historical Essay upon the Knighthood of the Bath, erroneously
called Sir Matthew Monins. The Mennis family bore gules, a chevron
vairy azure and or, betw. three leopards' faces of the last ; and were
mentioned in a visitation of Kent by the heralds in 1619. Hasted, the
Kentish historian, had the MS. but it was burnt. — Ed.
6 Memoirs of
service of the parliament : so that the storm was now over, and the
parliament fully and entirely possessed of the royal navy and militia by
sea, for they quickly disposed of two other honest captains, Kettleby
and Stradlin, whom they could not corrupt, who guarded the Irish seas,
and got those ships likewise in their service. And thus his majesty
was without one ship of his ovra in his three kingdoms, at his devo-
tion."
This noble fidelity is a lasting honour to Sir John and the
three brave captains, who durst remain loyal and true in a
time of universal treason. When Prince Rupert undertook
the care of the little but faithful fleet, which he had col-
- lected together, he appointed Sir J. Mennis commander of
the Swallow, a ship of which he had many years before
been captain. This squadron sailed to Helvoetsluys, but
the prevailing party defeated the great object of the expe-
dition. Sir John afterwards appears to have been appointed
to co-operate with the loyal Colonel Penruddock, in the
revolt against Cromwell, but the cause was weakly supported,
and terminated in the ruin of several on land — happily Sir
John was safe. He continued with his sovereign till the
Restoration, when his merit was well remembered. The
gaiety of his spirits, and his mental abilities, greatly assisted
his interest. Nautical men are generally sent to sea with
very little learning; but he, being both a scholar and a
gentleman, was probably the most accomplished seaman in
the fleet, with the exception of the Earl of Sandwich, who
was able to distinguish himself by his pen and his pencil, as
well as by his sword, as his MSS. abuntantly testify. By
these MSS. it is evident that his lordship highly valued Sir
John Minns, as he writes the name. In 1661-2 he was with
that nobleman at Tangier, when a mole was to be formed
Sir yohn Mennis. 7
there. In 1662 we find him with Lord Sandwich at Lisbon,
to whose court he went to receive Catherine, the infanta, the
consort of Charles II. We here see him employed in
taking and valuing the jewels, which composed a part of the
queen's fortune. At this period he was vice-admiral of the
fleet, and without doubt received some valuable presents, as
well from the court of Portugal, as from his own. Whatever
his gallantry, however, it must have been put exceedingly to
the test by the Portuguese maids of honour, who accompanied
her majesty to England, for they seem to have been care-
fully and most skilfully selected for their extreme ugliness.
We hear little of him after this time, when indeed his age
and services required retirement. He had outlived the
wits of his youthful days, and England was more strange to
him than the continent, where he had spent so large a
portion of his life. Were it worth the enquiry, many notices
of him and Dr. Smith might perhaps be found in the writings
of their contemporaries*. Neither Sir John, nor any of his
family, sat in parliament after the return of Charles II.
The monument referred to by Anthony Wood is fixed to
* In Sir John Denhanis poems is an epistle "To Sir yohn Mennis,
being invited from Calais to Bologne to eat a pig." It begins thus :
' ' All on a weeping Monday
With a fat Bulgarian sloven,
Little Admiral John
To Bologne is gone, " &c.
And in Rich. Fleckno's Diarium, 1656, are these lines :
"our English Dr. Smith,
Whose muse so bonny is and blithe ;
Or, in fine, of Sir John Mennis,
For excellence yieldeth not to anys.''
8 Memoirs iif
the south arigle of th6 chaileel wall in the ichtirch of St.
Oldve, Hart Sttee^ a6d bears this inscriptioti :
Hfeic situS est
D. Johannes Mennesius Eq Aurat. Sandovisi Cantiinus .
Andrafe Mennes Ar (Matthaeii filii) fiUus
-Ex jBna Johahnis Blehdiendeii Af Filla
Vir probus, Fortis; Benignus, Pius
Rei, Medico, Chymic*, Poetic£e,_ Ghanis
Oiiiniuin quibus notes deliciae
Vix adultus orbis omnes fere oras appulit
Sites Kegiminis comercii, morum explorator
Terra marique et peduelles
Jacobo, Carolo primo & secundo Regibus
Hyppircailis', Strategus, Hypo-Thalarsiarchi
Rei Classiarise Inspector summus ;
Variifeet ardtiis coiifectus ;
Glarae prqsapise decus nominis ultimns
^Natus I Martii 1598
18'* Febr 1670 DenaSiis
The Censura Literaria, vol. iv. p. 398-9, quotes a curious
tract, entitled " A Relation of this Insurrection^" 1650, lamo.
by Matthew Carter, which relates to the Kentish insurrection,
1648, in favour of the king, in which Sir John was implicated;
and also gives, from Topogr, iii. p. 154, this epitaph on a
mural tablet at Nonington, Kent, to the memory of his wife :
Hie sunt depositee Jan« reliquiae
Ab antiqua generosorum Liddellomm familia oriundse
Ex eastgllo de feavens^vorth in agrd Dunelm'eiisi
Johamiis Mennes Equitis anrati
Anglo-Cantiani conjugis, maris Anglicani Vice-Admiralli.
Ilia, absentfe Sub velis klarlto Regiis
Reginarh eX Gallii Mariam fe^eheiitibus
Apud Fredville JohanniS Boys annigeri Dccumbens
Hospitali istius humauitate
Hie inhumater
In sactam dilectissimse consortis itaeffiL^am
Mariti pietate hoc marmor erigiter,
Nata anno circiter 1602, Julii 23, 1662, Denata.
Arms, Mennes, impaling irg-. frdtt^^lBsdn a Chief of the second, three
leopards' heads for Liddle.
Sir yohn Mennis. 9
The will of Sir John Mennis, of which an abstract is here
given, is deposited in the Principal Registry of the Court of
Probate, Doctors' Commons.
Sir yohn Mennes, ^/., dated 15 May, 1669. "All my
messuages, lands, tenements, &c., in Loughton or elsewhere in
CO. Essex, holden of the manor there, to my nephew Francis
Hamdioh, son of my IktS feisttfir, Maty Hammon, deceased,
and to his heirs for ever ; also to said Francis Hammon my
right, &c., in the moiety of the rectory of Woodnesborrow in
Ken% on condition that he assign to my executrix his lease
of the rectory and Grange of Walmer, in said co< Kent, my
said executrix, her executors) &c, to hold same to use of my
niece Mrs. Jane Moyk, wife of Anthony Moyle, Esq., for
her life, remainder to use of her children living at her decease,
my ©xecutrix to expend ;^ioo in placing out to some good
ealling John Moyle, son of said Jane Moyle; to miy niece, the
Lady Heath, my g3?eat 'Portugal jewel! containing 180
diaflionds set in gold \ t<Q my .goddaughter Margaret Heath,
dau^terdf mysaid niece Heathj a small gold cross with seven
diamonds in it, and the monie due as a bond of Col. Robt.
Phillipps ; to Mrs Turner, wife of Mr. ThoS. Turner, of Dept'
ford in Kent, £,100 ; to my setvant, Geoige Airington, £,20 ;
and ■fiach other servant half a year's wages ; to building and
repairing the parish church of St. Peter in Sandwich, -co.
Kent, ;^so j tSu my cousin, John Casen the elder, Of Wbod-
nesbdrrowi coj Kent, Esq^, ;^5o. Appoint executrix rtly niece,
Elizabeth Hammon, bhe of ttie daughters -of rtiy Said late
sistdiv (Mary Hammon, deceased, and give her residue Of all
itay pefsorialty."
Proved 9th Mkreh 1670-1 by execiu-faix.
MEMOIRS OF Dr. JAMES SMITH.
JAMES SMITH, sonof Tho. Smith, rector of Merston, in
Bedfordshire, and brother to Dr. Tho. Smith, sometimes
an eminent physician of Brasen Coll. was bom,'' says Wood,
" in the said town of Merston, matriculated as a member of
Ch. Ch. in Lent term i62|, aged i8 years, and soon after
was transplanted to Line. Coll., where he continued for some
years a cominoner. Thence he was preferred to be chaplain
at sea to Henry, Earl of Holland, who was admiral of a
squadron of ships sent for a supply to the Isle of Ree.
Afterwards he was domestic chaplain to Tho. Earl of Cleev-
land,who had an especial respect for him for his ingenuity and
excellent parts. In his service he continued six years, had a
benefice in Lincolnshire which he kept for a time, and in 1633
took the degree of Bach, of Div. by accumulation, being
then much in esteem with the poetical wits of that time,
particularly with Philip Massenger, who called him his son,
Will. D'avenant, y^ohn Mennes, &c. From his benefice in
Lincolnsh. he removed to Kings Nimphton, in Devonsh.,
and leaving a curat there, he went as chaplain to the before-
mentioned Earl of Holland, lieutenant-general of the English
forces in the first expedition against the Scots. Returning
Memoirs of Dr. yames Smith. 1 1
thence soon after, he settled at Kings Nimphton, where he
resided during all the changes of government, by compliance
with the power that was uppermost. • After his majesty's
return he was made one of the canons of 6!. Peter's cathedral
in Exeter, archdeacon of Barnstaple, chaplain to Edw. Earl
of Clarendon, and in July, 1661, he was actually created
Doct. of Divinity. In the next year he became chauntor of
Exeter, in the place of Dr. S. Ward, promoted to the epis-
copal see of that place, and in 1663 was presented to the
rectory of Alphyngton, in Devonshire, (at which time he re-
signed Kings Nymphton, and his archdeaconry), where he
finished his course. His chief works that are of poetry,
are in
" MusARUM DelicIjE : or, the Muses Recreation, con-
taining several pieces of poetic wit. Land. 1656, oct.
second edit, and also in another book, entit.
" Wit restored, in several select Poems. Land. 1658. oct.
Which book, I say, is mostly of our author Smith's composi-
tion. At the end of which is his translation, or poem,
called The innovation of Penelope and Ulysses, a mock poem.
Lond. 1658. oct. And at the end of that also, is Cleaveland's
Rebel Scot, translated into Latin. He also composed
" Certain Anthems — not the musical, but poetical part of
them — which are to this day used and sung in the cath. ch.
at Exeter. At length paying his last debt to nature at
Alphyngton, on the 20th day of June, 1667, his body was
conveyed to Kings Nymphton before mentioned, and was
buried in the chancel belonging to the church there, near to
the body of Elizabeth, his first wife. Over their graves was
soon after put a comely monument, with an inscription
12 Memoirs of
thiereofl (gntatgard after the death 6f his second wife, who
died foiir yeairs after bim) the coti tents of which shall now
for Ufevi^'S sakd be omitted," Athgn. OxoH. vol. ii. p- 398,
The aatne of SttiUh is so comtnofl that it almost defies
th^ pO^lbiliQr Of idefltifying persons. We have no means
Of eeagalting the history of any part Qi Bedfordshire, whence
he Sipfrtlflgj and Ritson's Survey of Devon^ the couatf in
Which he died, says nothing of him. The place, where he
lies Mrifed,- i& now spelt King's Nympton. His easy com-
plianee with the times, not making him a Confessor, is the
teason why he is unnoticed' by either patty. Walker and
Calamy leave him and his history in silent neglect. Le
Neve, in his Monumenta Anglicana, makes no mention of
him, not dofes Smith, in his obittiary, either touch on him
ox Sir John Mennis : zSA; What \i more surprising, their
works are omitted in the Catalogue of the most vendible
Books in England, printed in London 1658. Bishop White
Kennet, in his Register and Chronicle Ecclesiastical and
Civil, notices him as S. T. P. and as installed precentor of
the ehurch of Exeter by proxy Feb. 7, 1661, and in person
April ti, 1662, and agrees with Wood and Isaak, in his
Antiqufees of the City of Exeter, in the date of his decease.
Dh .Smith lived in cheerless times, and amongst a sour
people. Mitth was then a mortal sin, and however m-
nocent a fair, fat, laughing face might be, it was considered
as the pOttfait of Lucifer ; and poetry, except Sternhold and
Hopkins', '(if that be an exception) as little less than the
sign -Of a reprobate fflind, void of all grace. It is strange
that he had the hardihood to publish his poems during the
usurpation ; but the restOJation was at hand, when such a
Dr. James Smith. 13
muse could breathe freely, in an atmosphere perfectly con-
genial to her.
Lasciva est nobis pagina, vita proba est — seems, from all
we can learn of them, very applicable to Sir J. Mennis and
Dr. Smith ; and it must be owned that the admission leaves
an abundance to marvel at in a " religious" Knight, and a
Doctor of Divinity.
Musarum Delicice :
OR,
THE MUSES
RECREATION.
Conteining severall select
Pieces of Poetique Wit.
The Second Edition.
By S-^ J. M. and J a .- S.
LONDON,
Printed by J.G.for Henry Herringman, and are
to be sold at his Shop, at the Signe of the
Anchor in the New Exchange, 1656.
STATIONER
CANDID AND COURTEOUS READER.
THE following lines once more present themselves
unto your view, being confident in their owne ingenuity
and innocence : That kinde reception which they generally
found in their first impression, is incouragement enough to
put them upon this second adventure: To your hands
may this finde an easie and a welcome accesse. The worke
speakes its owne worth, and stands in lieed of no enco-
miums : That it may prove an addition to your content-
ment, is the ambition and designe of
H.H.
VOL. I.
MUSARUM DeLICI^
• OR, ■
^he Muses Recreation.
To Parson Weeks. An Invitation
to London.
HOw now, ray John, what, is't the care
Of thy small Flock, that keeps thee there ?
Or hath the Bishop, in a rage.
Forbid thy coming on our Stage ?
Or want'st thou Coyn ? or want'st thou Steed ?
These are impediments indeed :
But for thy Flock, thy Sexton may
In due time ring, and let them pray.
A Bishop, with an Offering,
May be brought unto any thing.
For want of Steed, I oft see Vic
Trudge up to Town with hazle stick ;
For Coyn, two Sermons by the way.
WUl Host, Hostesse, and Tapster pay.
A willing minde pawns Wedding-ring,
Wife, Gown, Books, Children, any thing,
c 2
20 Musarum Delicice : Or,
No way neglected, nought too deare
To see such friends, as thou hast here.
I met a Parson on the way,
Came in a Wagon t'other day.
Who told me, that he ventur'd forth
With one Tythe Pig, of little worth ;
With which, and saying grace at food.
And prajfing for Lord Cartyers good ;
He had arriv'd at's Journeys end,
Without a penny, or a friend.
And what great businesse doe you thmk ?
Onely to see a friend, and drink.
One friend ? why thou hast thousands here
Will strive to make thee better chear.
Ships lately from the islands came
With Wines, thou never heardst their name.
Montefiasco, Frontiniac,
Viaiico, and that old Sack
Young Herric took to entertaine
The Muse? in a sprightly vein.
Come then, and from thy muddy Ale,
(Which selves but for an old wife's-Tale :
Or, now and then, to break a jest,
At some poor silly neighbour's Feast)
Rouze up, and use the meanes, to see
Those friends expect thy wit, and thee.
And though you cannot come in state,
On Camels back, like Cory at :
Imagine that a pack horse be
The Camell in his book you see.
The Muses Recreation. 21
I know you have a fancy, can
Conceive your guide a Caravan.
Rather than faile, speak Treason there,
And come on charges of the Shire ;
A London Goal, with friends and drink,
Is worth your Vicaridge, I think,
But if besotted with that one
Thou hast, of ten, stay there alone ;
And all too late lament and cry,
Th'hast lost thy friends, among them, I.
•^H^ *^f^ '\^* r^ju* *>M* *\g^ fM^ i)£y» f^jy* "m^ f^jy* ')jy* *'jy* •\A/» "^n^f* *^n/»
To a friend upon a journey to Epsam Well.
SIR, though our flight deserves no care
Of your enquiry, where we are ;
Yet for to put you out of doubt,
Read but these Lines, yxju'l smell us out
We having at the Mazard din'd.
Where Veal and Mutton open chin'd.
Hang on the Shambles ; thence we pate
To Putney s Ferry : Coomes old Chase
We next pass'd o'le, then to the town
Which name of King doth much renowne ;
Where having supp'd we went to bed,
Our selves and Cattell wearied.
Next morning e're the sun appear'd.
Our horses and our selves well chear'd ;
2 2 Musarum DelicicB : Or,
To Epsam Well we asked the way,
Of young and old, of poor and gay :
Where, after five or six mistakes,
We found the Spring, neer hid with brakes.
These waters deer, two Hermits keep.
Who alwaies either wake, or sleep ;
And by alternate courses, wait
On Man or Beast, if here you bait.
'Tis here the people farre and neer,
Bring their diseases and go clear,
Some drink of it, and in an houre.
Their Stomach, Guts, and Kidneys scower :
Others doe Bathe, and Ulcers cure.
Dry Itch, and Leprosie impure ;
And what in Lords you call the Gout,
In poor the Pox, this drives all out.
Close by the Well, you may discerne
Small shrubs of Eglantin and Fern,
Which shew the businesse of the place ;
Por here old Ops her upper face
Is yellow, not with heat of summer,
But safroniz'd with mortall scumber.
But then the pity to behold
Those antient Authore, which of old
Wrote down for us. Philosophy,
Physick, Music, and Ifoetry,
Now to no other purpose tend.
But to defend the fingers end.
Here lies Romes Naso torn and rent.
Now reeking from the fundament ;
The Muses Recreation. 23
Galens old rules could not suffice,
Nor yet Hippocrates the wise.
Not teaching, how to dense, can doe,
Themselves must come and wipe it too.
Here did lye Virgil, there lay Horace,
Which newly had wip'd his, or her Arse.
Anacreon reeled too and fro,
Vex'd, that they us'd his papers so.
And Tully with his Offices,
Was forc'd to do such works as these.
Here lies the Letter of a Lover,
Which piece-meale did the thing discover.
Sonnets halfe written would not stay.
But must necessity obey.
This made us for a while to think,
The Muses here did seldome drink :
But hap what would, we light from stirrup,
And streight descend to drinke the syrrup.
The good old Father takes a cup.
When five times wash'd, he fills it up
With this priz'd Liquor, then doth tell
The strange effects of this new Well.
Quoth he, my friends, though I be plaine,
I have seen here many a goodly train
Of Lords and Ladies, richly clad.
With Aches more then ere I had :
These having drunk a week, or so,
Away with health most jocund go :
Meanwhile the Father thus did prate,
We still were drinking as we sat ;
24 Musarum Delicm : Or,
Till Gut by rumbling, us beseeches,
My boyes, beware, you'l wrong your Breeches.
Ah, doth it worke ? the old man cryes,
Yonder are brakes to hide your thighes.
Where, though 'twere near we hardly came.
Ere one of us had been to blame.
Here no Olympick games they use.
No wrestling here. Limbs to abuse,
But he that gains the glory here
Must scumber furthest, shite most clear.
And, for to make us emulate.
The good old Father doth relate
The vigour of our Ancestors,
Whose shiting far exceeded ours.
Quoth be, doe you see that below ?
I doe, quoth I, his head's now low.
But here have 1 seen cA& John Jones,
From this hill, shite to yonder stones.
But him Heaven rest, the man is dead.
This speech of his me netled ;
With that my head I straightway put
Between my knees, and mounting scut.
At chiefest randome, forty five.
With Lyon's face, dung forth I drive.
The ayre's divided, and it flies.
Like Draco volans to the skies.
Or who had seen a Conduit break.
And at the hole with fury reak :
Had he but hither took the paine
To come, had seen it once againe.
The Muses Recreation.
Here Colon play'd his part indeed,
And over-shit the stones a reed.
Whereat the Father, all amaz'd,
Limps to the place, where having gaz'd
With heav'd up hands, and fixed eyes,
Quoth he ; Dear, let me kisse those thighs,
That prop the taile will carry hence
Our glory and magnificence.
His suit being granted, home he walkes,
And to himselfe of wonders talkes ;
From whence he brings a painted stake.
High to be seen, above the Brake :
And having ask'd my name, he writ
In yellow letters, who 'twas shit.
Which still stands as a Monument,
Call'd LoTig-taile, from the man of Kent.
This being all the first day did,
We home retir'd, where we lay hid
In Alehouse, till another day
Shall prompt my Muse ; then more I'le say.
Till when, take this, to make an end,
I rest your servant, and your friend.
26 Musarum Delicia: Or,
To a friend upon his Marriage.
Since last I writ, I heare dear honey.
Thou hast committed Matrimony ;
And soberly both Morn and Even,
Dost take up smock in fear of Heaven.
Alas poor soul, thy marriage vow
Is as the Rites, unhallowed now :
Sleighted by Man, ordain'd by Bishop,
Not one, whom zeal hath scar'd from his shop.
The Ring prophane, and SurpUce foule.
No better than a Friers Cowl,
With Poesie vile, and at thy Table
Fidlers, that were abhominable.
Who sung, perhaps, a song oi Hymen,
And not a Psalm to edifie men.
It is th' opinion of this place.
Thou canst not get a Babe of Grace.
This story is sad ; to make amends,
I'le tell thee news, to tell thy friends.
You heard of late, what Chevaliers
(Who durst not tarry for their eares)
Prescribed were, for such a plot
As might have ruin'd Heaven knows what :
Suspected for the same's Will D'avenant,
Whether he have been in't, or have not.
The Mttses Recreation-
He is committed, and, like Sloven,
Lolls on his bed, in garden Coven ;
He had been rack'd, as I am told.
But that his body would not hold.
Soon as in Kent they saw the Bard,
(As to say truth, it is not hard,
For Will has in his face, the flawes
Of wounds receiv'd in Countreys cause :)
They flew on him, like Lions passant.
And tore his Nose, as much as was on't ;
They call'd him Superstitious Groom,
And Popish Dog, and Curre ai Rome;
But this I'm sure, was the, first time.
That Wills Religion was a crime.
What ere he is in's outward part,
He is sure a Poet in his heart.
But 'tis enough, he is thy friend,
And so am I, and there's an end.
From London, where we sit and muse.
And pay Debts when we cannot chuse ;
The day that Bishops, Deans and Prebends,
And all their friends, wear mourning Ribbands
If this day smile, they'l ride in Coaches,
And, if it frown, then Bonas Noches.
28 Musarum Delicia: Or,
In answer to certaine Letters, which he received
from London, whilst he was engaged to fol-
low the Camp.
WHat, Letters two, on New-years-day ?
'Tis signe, thy Muse hath leave to play,
And swelling grape distills his Liquor,
Which makes thy pulse and muse flow quicker.
Alas poor Soules ! in Mud we travell.
And each day vex'd with Martch and Gravel ;
And when at night we come to quarter.
Drink, what thou wouldst not give to Porter.
From Northern soyl, I lately came.
With Horses two of mine, one Lame ;
But when I came to house of state.
Where quondam fled his grace in plate ;
Expecting after journey scurvey.
Solace, I found all topsie turvy.
New Orders bid me thence away,
The people grumble, they want pay ;
And now, like wandring Knights we wend
Without a penny, or a friend :
Our score grows great, from whence we goe,
And every Alehouse turn'd a foe.
These give their friends intelligence
That we are coming, without pence ;
And those we feare, will shut the door
At wandring Prince, when known so poor.
The Muses Recreation. 29
However, we march on to morrow,
And here, and there, small summes we borrow.
Judge, if thy Muse could soar so high,
When pinion's clip'd, what Bird can fly ?
No, no, good Wine and ease I'm bar'd of,
Which makes my Muse to come so hard off;
And hearing fellowes nine in London,
Get cash, carouse, while I am undon :
While not one Captaine here will tarry
'Sn.tjohn, with horse of Commissary ;
And here he spends his time and pence,
Without a hope of recompence.
And scarce sees friends, but such as grutch him,
If he have coyn, they none, they catch him
With that old beaten trodden way,
Jack, canst thou lend, till next pay-day ?
Till now, at length my pocket's grown
Like Nest defil'd, when Bird is flown.
Judge, from such stories, if you can
Expect a Muse from any man.
Yet have I still respects from them.
Who weekly think upon J. M.
To noble Kenelm, say, I drink.
And unto Lord of Downe, I thinke
The day, vthtn Janus, with face double,
. Looks on the pass'd and coming trouble.
The first day ever rich or poor.
Wrote forty yeares, and one before.
The Hou.se, the Talbot, Comey host,
My liquor now, but ale and tost.
30 Musarum Delicm : Or,
The Answer.
WHy seeks my friend so vain excuse,
For .the long silence of his Muse ;
As if her faculty were worse,.
Because joyn'd with an empty purse?
Lines may accrew, although the pence
That use to purchase Influence
From constellation of Carney,
Be fewer, then will fee Attorney.
Thou knowst that Vacuus cantabit,
(Ther's Latin for thee, though but a bit)
Sing then, and let's be free from blame,
Thy Verse is fat, thov^h horse be lame.
Seest thou not, Ovid, Homer, Virgil,
With Muse more needy, _/tf^, then your Gill,
Indite things high, and rest the Ivie,
From wealthy Tacitus and Livie:
From Cicero, (that wrote in Prose)
So call'd, from Rouncival on's nose ?
For, though 'twas hid, till now of late,
Yet 'tis a truth, as firme as fate.
That Poets, when their Money scants.
Are oft inspired by their wants.
Want makes them rage, and rage Poetick
Makes Muse, and Muse makes work for Critick.
The Muses Recreation. 31
As for thy pocket, which thou sayst,
Is like to a defiled Nest,
A Nest, that is of all bereft,
Save what the Cat in Maulthouse left ;
There is a Proverb to thy comfort,
Known as the ready way to Rumford,
That, when the pot ore fire you heat,
A Lowse is better than no meat ;
So, in your pocket by your favour,
Something you know, will have some savour.
But soft, the word is now come forth,
We all must pack into the North ;
When minde of Man was set to play.
And riding Boot lay out o'th' way ;
We were commanded in a Minute,
To journey base, the Devil's in it ;
For now I have no more minde to't,
Then is an Apple like a Nut :
Yet look I must for riding tackle.
In comers of my Tabernacle ;
And look, as men for slanders heark.
Or one that gropes in privy darke,
So must I search with fear of minde.
And seek for what I would not finde.
Had I two faces, like to Janus,
(A month that now hath overtane us.)
With one of them I'le smile in Town,
While tother 'mong my foes did frown.
But wishes help not, nor can with-
Hold, from embracing thee, James Smith,
Musarum Delicics : Or,
Long Aker, from the Angel Tavern,
Two hundred miles from head of Severn.
Where, for my shillings twain, I dine.
With Tongue of Neat, far worse then mine :
The tenth of yanuary day durty,
One thousand, hundreds six, and forty.
•\Ar* *^u* '\&/* '^lu* 'w* •y^ '^ly* '^J^' v^* 'yv '^^* '^fl^ *^^ *^j/* 'w» ^jj^
Description of three Beauties.
PHilodea and Pamela sweet.
By chance in one great house did meet.
And meeting did so joyne in heart,
That t'one from t'other could not part
And who, indeed, not made of Stones,
Would separate such lovely ones ?
The one is beautifull, and faire.
As Lillies and white Roses are ;
And sweet, as after gentle showers,
The breath is of ten thousand flowers.
From due proportion, a sweet aire
Circles the other, not so faire ;
Which so her Brown doth beautifie,
That it inchants the wisest eye.
Have you not seen, on some bright day,
Two goodly Horses, ^Vhite, and Bay,
Which were so beauteous in their pride.
You knew not which to chuse, or ride ?
The Muses Recreation. .33
Such are these two, you scarce can tell,
Which is the daintier Bonny bell ?
And they are such, as, by my troth,
I had been dead in love with both.
And might have sadly said, goodnight
Discretion, and good fortune quite.
But that God Cupid, my old Master,
Presented me a Soveraigne plaister :
Mopsa, even Mopsa, prety Mouse,
Best piece of Wainscot in the House ;
Whose Saffron Teeth, and Lips of Leeks,
Whose Corall Nose, and Parchment Cheeks ;
Whose Past-board forehead, .eyes of Ferret,
Breast of brown Paper, Neck of Caret ;
And other parts,; not^^evident,
For which dame nature, should be sheiit.
Are Spells and Charms of great renown.
Concupiscence to conjure downe.
How oft have I been reft of sence,
By gazing on their excellence,
Till meeting Mopsa in my way,
And looking on her face- of Clay,
I soon was cur'd and made as sound,
As though I never had a wound.
And, when, in Tables of my heart,
Love with such. things as bred my smart ;
My Mopsa, \n\h. her face of Clout,
Would in an instant wipe them out :
And when their faces made me sick,
Mopsa would come with hers of Brick,
VOL. I. D
34 Musarum Delicice : Or,
A little heated by the fire,
And break the neck of my desire.
Now from their face I turne mine eyes,
But (cruel Panthers) they surprize
Me with their breath, that incense sweet.
Which onely for the gods is meet ;
And jointly from them doth respire
Like both the Indies set on fire.
Which so orecomes mans ravish'd sence,
That Soules to follow it, fly hence.
Nor such like smell you, as you range
By th'Stocks, or Old, or New Exchange.
Then stood I still as any Stock,
Till Mopsa with her puddle Dock,
Her Compound or Electuary,
Made of old Ling, or Caviaiy,
Bloat Herring, Cheese, or voided Physick,
(Being sometimes troubled with the Tysick)
Did Cough, and fetch a sigh so deep.
As did her very bottom sweep ;
Whereby to all she did impart,
How Love lay rankling at her heart ;
Which when I smelt, desire was slaine,
And they breath forthe perfumes in vaine.
Their Angels voice surpriz'd me now.
But Mopsa's shrill ; To whit to whoo
Descending through her hollow Nose,
Did that distemper soon compose.
And therefore, Oh thou vertuous Owle,
The wise Minerva's onely fowle :
The Muses Recreation., 3 5
What at thy shrine shall I devise
To offer up for Sacrifice ?
Hang jEsculapius, and Apollo,
Hang Ovid with his precepts shallow :
With patience who will now indure
Your slow and most uncertaine cure,
Seeing Mopsa's found, for Man and Beast,
To be the %\a^ probatum est 1
Oh thou, Loves chiefest Medicine,
True water to Dame Venus wine.
Best Cordiall, soundest Antidote,
To conquer Love, and cut his throat ;
Be but my second, and stand by,
And I their beauties both defie,
And all else of those Faery races.
That wear infection in their faces ;
For I'le come safe out of the Field
With this thy face, Medusa's shield.
t^ju* *ju% i^E^ 1^*^ »yyi ryy* '^A/* '^A^ *^J^ *\Ar '\iy* 'W* "VW* 'My "J^ *vv*
A journey into France.
I Went from England into France,
Neither to learn to sing, nor dance.
To ride, nor yet to Fence :
Nor did I goe like one of those
That doe returne with halfe the nose
They carried from hence.
D 2
36 Musarum Delicics : Or,
But I to Pa7-is rid along
Much like yohn Dory in the song,
Upon a holy Tide :
I on an ambling Nag did get,
I thinke he is not paid for yet,
And spurr'd him on each side.
And to S. Denis first we came,
To see the sights at Nostredame,
The man that shewes them snufBies ;
Where who is apt for to believe.
May see our Ladies right arme sleeve.
And eke her old Pantofle.
Her Breasts, her Milk, her very Gown,
Which she did weare in Bethlem town,
. When in the Inne she lay;
Yet all the world knowes, that's a fable,
For so good Cloaths ne'r lay in stable,
Upon a lock of Hay.
No Carpenter could by his Trade
Gaine so much Coyn, as to have made
A Gowne of so rich StufFe ;
Yet they (poor fools) thinke for their credit,
They must believe old Joseph did it,
Cause she deserv'd enough.
There is one of the Crosses Nailes,
Which who so sees, his Bonnet vailes ;
And, if he will, may kneel :
The Muses Recreation. 3 7
Some say, 'tis false, 'twas never so,
Yet, feeling it, thus milch I know,
It is as true as Steel.
There is a Lanthorne which iht Je;wes,
When Judas led them forth did use ;
It weighed my weight down right :
But to believe it, you must think
Thtjewes did put a Candle in't.
And then 'twas wondrous light.
There's one Saint that hath lost his Nose,
Another's head, but not his Toes,
His Elbow^ and his Thumb ;
But when w'had seen the holy rags,
We went to th'Inne, and took our Nags,
And so away did come.
We came to Farts, on the Seyn,
'Tis wondrous faire, but nothing clean,
'Tis Europes greatest town ;
How strong it is, I need not tell it,
For any man may easily smell it,
That walkes it up and down.
There many strange things you may see,
The Palace, the great Gallery,
Place royal, doth excell :
The New Bridge, and the Statue's there.
At Nostredame, Saint Christopher,
The Steeple beares the Bell.
38 Musarum Delicice : Or,
For Learning, th'University,
And for old Clothes, the Frippery,
The house the Queen did build.
Saint Innocents, whose earth devoures
Dead Corps, in foure and twenty houres,
And there the * King was kill'd. ■
The Bastile and St. Denis street,
The Chastelet, just like London Fleet,
The Arsenal, no Toy ;
But if you'l see the prettiest thing,
Goe to the Court, and view the King,
Oh 'tis a hopeful! Boy.
Of all his Nobles, Dukes and Peers,
■ He's reverenc'd for his wit and years.
Nor must you thinke it much '
For he with little switch can play.
And can make fine Dirt-pies of Clay,
Oh never King made such.
A Bird that doth but kill a Flye,
Or prates, doth please his Majesty,
'Tis known to every one ;
The Duke of Guise gave him a Parret,
And he had twenty Cannons for it,
For his new Galleon.
Ben. the Great, by Raviliac.
The Muses Recreation. ' 39
Oh that I e're might have the hap
To get the Bird, that, in the Map,
Is calkd the Indian Ruck ;
I'le give it him, and hope to be
As great as Guise or Luyne,
Or else I had ill luck.
Birds round about his Table stand,
And he them feeds with his owne hand,
'Tis his humility ;
And if they doe want any thing.
They need but chirp for their kind King,
And he comes presently.
And now, for those rare parts he must
Entituled be, Lewis the Just,
Great Henries lawful! heire ;
When to his style, to adde more words,
Th'ad better call him King of Birds,
Then King of lost Navarre.
He hath besides a pretty firk,
Taught him by nature how to worke,
In Iron, with much ease ;
Sometimes into the Forge he goes.
And there he knocks, & there he blows,
And makes both Locks and Keyes.
Which moves a doubt in every one
Whether he's Mars or Vukans Son,
Some few believe his Mother ;
40 Musarum Delidce : Or,
But let them all say what they will,.
I am resolv'd and doe think still,
As much the one as th'other.
The people doe dislike the youth,
AUedging reason, for, in truth,
Mothers should honour'd be ;
Yet others say^ he loves her rather ;
As well as ere she lov'd his Father ;
That's a notorious lye.
His Queen's a little pretty Wench,
Was bom in Spain, speaks little French,
Not like to be a Mother :
For her incestuous house would not
Have any Children, but begot
By Unkle, or by Brother.
Now why should Lewis, being so just.
Content himselfe to take his Lust
With his lascivious Mate,
And suffer his little pretty Queen,
From all her race, that e're hath been.
Once to degenerate ?
'Twefe Charity for to be known
Love others Children, as his owne.
And why ? it is no shame :
Unlesse that he would greater be
Than was his father Henery,
Who (men thought) did the same.
The Muses Recreation. 41
Hankins Heigh-ho.
NOrth Britain loved Sculler of our times,
That twy-beat'st this Way, that way going Thames;
Divine Aquarius of all fluent rimes.
Such as describe Lepanto's bloudy streames.
Lend me my Scull, full oiPyerian sweat
My sorrowes to repeat,
And in each Pye, He bake up every she,
Big as thy Boat for thee.
Thrice had all New-years Guests their yewl guts fiU'd
With embalm'd Veal, buried in Christmas Past,
Thrice had they Ivy herby wreath, well pill'd ;
Crane slept at Tvtnam first, at Chelsey last ?
Since first my heart was broach'd on Cupids spit.
Roasting bit after bit.
In her loves flames, who casts it now behinde.
And blow'st away with winde.
When I had built with practick Architecture
Newcastle Mine, refin'd to such a frame
Proportionable, as might deserve a Lecture,
And that the Mast staid onely for a flame ;
Her love alone, without or Match or Tinder,
New styl'd this; new built Cinder;
And so an Embleme of our love we beeted.
The word black, but love lighted.
42 Musarum Delicice : Or,
Oft have I perboyl'd been with blubbering grief,
Season'd and sows'd with brine of bitter tears,
With Salads slic'd, and Lettuc'd up with Beef,
With Vinegar and Sugar, hopes and feares.
Undone like Oysters, pepper'd with despair.
All for this Laundres fair.
Who now she thinkes, a bitter bit had got
To furnish her flesh-pot.
My Kitchen dore, like Fluids gates still ope,
Down corns this beauteous Queen, like Prosperpin,
I smear'd with soot, and she with suds of Sope,
Was ever match more necessary seen ?
And faith we swore, I by my Oven and Peel ;
She by her Starch and Steel ;
Which sacred Oath I kept, but she hers broke,
And turned into smoak.
Hartford, now Hatesford, which my Heartsford was,
Be ever ruinous, as thou art this day.
Because thou bredst this well-wash'd Laundry Lass,
Let Ware beguile thee of thy rich road way ;
And may thy Craifish River fall from thee
As she forsaketh me :
But he that hath her I doe wish no worse,
Then a true Sedgely curse.
You Chargers from my hands that lustre drew,
To brighten you to Starres, but spotiess faire \
Your twinkling Sawcers, Constellations new,
And glazing Platters, which like Comets are,
The Muses Recreation. 43
Be ever dark, let neither Chalk nor Sand,
Nor the Oily circling hand
For evermore re-kindle you againe,
But mourn you for my pain.
Draw me the bravest Spit that e're was bent
With massy Member of laborious beast ;
Drill me from Mouth to Taile incontinent,
Dresse me and dish me at the Nuptiall Feast,
Thus for her Love and losse ; poor Hankin dyes,
His amorous Soule down flies
To th'bottome of the Cellar, there to dwell ;
Susan, farewell, farewell.
*jy f^M* •^jy* "Jy* '^jy* ^\jy* 'jy* '\^* '^y* »^jy %E^* *\jy* *>a^ "Jy* ^^y* "jy*
Some Gentlemen shut out of their seats in Pauls,
while they went to drinke.
NOwnes, Gentlemen, how now ? shut out ?
Must we, mix'd with the zealous rout,
Stand hoofeing on the vulgar stone.
To hear the CheurUilleson ?
First, Let the Organs, one by one.
Treble their Lamentation ;
And the Quyries sing, till they
For want of moisture fall to play,
Ere it shall be said, that I
Let my choice devotions fly
44- Musarum Delicice : Or,
Up from hence, in th'foul-mouth'd peal
Of Prentice Orisons, where my zeal
Shall stand cheap-rated, faith, for why ?
The best seat's shut, and we put by.
We did but step aside awhile
With juyce of Grapes our Lamps to oyl ;
Where staying long, we came too late,
And shar'd the foohsh Virgins fate.
Yet saw I two or three within,
Faire Virgins, such as had no sin :
Or if they had, their worths high rate
Might it soon transubstantiate
Into a Vertiie, whose least share,
A branch of holy Saints might wear.
Should great Saint Peter me deny
Passage, t'enjoy such company.
We should fall foule, unlesse that he
Put me to thern, or them to me.
Upon a lame tired Horse.
A
Bout the time-
Aurora in her Mantle wrapp'dthe clime,
When the bright Day, and thirsty Sun had quaft
A thousand Flagons, for his mornings draught,
The Muses Recreation. 45
Brim full with Pearly dew ; I got me up,
And tasted freely of a liberall cup ;
Pursu'd my journey, on a Horse as poor
As is a sterved Beggar at the door,
Or Pharaoh's leanest Cow; there was as much
Flesh on his back, as an old mans Crutch.
Now men observing, that I was so fat,
And durst ride on a Horse so lean as that.
Did scoff and jeer me, as I pass'd the way,
And, as I thought did one to th'other say.
The horse has strip'd his flesh, and on his back
Does carry it, as Pedlers doe a Pack.
For I have often seen upon my troth,
Poor ragged Pedlers carry packs of Cloth,
Another swore, that I was some Saint Paul,
Because my Horse was so spirituall.
A Clown unto his fellowes cryes, God soes,
I think this Horse has Corns upon his Toes.
Another swore, that I no more did ride,
Then Children, that a Hobby-horse bestride ;
Another said, my horse did sure intend
To tell each step unto his journeyes end.
But, e're I got out of a Lane to th'Heath,
I'le take my oath, they jeer'd my Horse to death.
46 , Musarum Delicm : Or,
*\/i/» 'yn^ f^jy* •^/^* '^Jy %!(* 'w' "w* '^ft'' '^Jy '^JV *^^* '^^ '^ft'* '^J^ %(V
6^(7;« « Surfeit caught by drinking bad Sack^
at the George Tavern in Southwark.
WHo thought that such a storm, Ned, when our Souls,
From the Calme Harbour of Domestick Bowles,
Would needs abord the George, t' embark our brain,
To the Cantabrian Calenture of Spain ?
Oh hadst thou seen, (and happy are thy eyes
That did not see) that Fridayes Crudities,
Such Hecatombs of indigested Sack
Retreated up my throat, oh what a wrack
'Twas, to a thick-brain'd paper Boat of wit.
In a Canary voyage to be spht ?
We drank old Lees, gave our heads a fraught.
Of that Don Pedro left in Eighty Eight :
A bawdy-house would scome it, 'twas too poor
For those that play at Noddy on the score.
Felt-makers had refus'd it ; Nay, I think
The Devill would abhorre such posset-drink,
Bacchus, I'm sure detests it, 'tis too bad
For Hereticks, a Friar would be mad
To blesse such vile unconsecrable stufTe,
And Brownists would conclude it good enough
For such a Sacrifice : I'ld wish no worse
A draught unto the Ignorant, nor curse
My foes beyond it. Not a Beads-man sure
At a Town Funerall would it endure,
The Muses Recreation. 47
Much lesse a Man of sence ; 'twere an affront,
To put an understanding Fur upon't, .
Or Burgo-Mistris: It is such a thing
Would dam a Vintner at a Christening.
Yet we must quaff these dregs, and be constrain'd
To what the Laety, seven years since disdain'd.
Oh would I might tume Poet for an houre,
To Satpize with a vindictive power
Against the Drawer : or I could desire
Old jFoknsons head had scalded in this fire ;
How would he rage, and bring Apollo down
To scold with Bacchus, and depose the Clown,
For his ill government, and so confute
Our Poet Apes, that doe so much impute
Unto the grapes inspirement ! Let them sit.
And from the winepresse, squeeze a bastard wA,
But I, while Severn, and old Avon can
Afford a draught ; while there's a Cider-Man,
Or a Metheglenist, while there's a Cup
Of Beer or Ale, I do forswear to sup
Of wicked Sack : Thus Solemn I come from it.
No dog would e're return to such a vomit.
48 Musarum DelicicB : Or,
7*/^^ Lowses Peregrination.
Discoveries of late have been made by adventure,
Where many a pate hath been set on the Tenter,
And many a Tale hath been told more then true is,
How Whales have been serv'd whole, to Saylors in Brewis.
But here's a poor lowse, by these presents defies
The Catalogue of old Mandevils Lyes :
And this I report of a certaine.
My Father and Mother, when first they join'd paunches,
Begot me between an old Pedlers haunches ;
Where grown to a Creeper, I know how a pox I
Got to suck by chance of the bloud of his doxie.
Where finding the sweetnesse of this my new pasture,
I left the bones of my pockified Master,
And there I struck in for a fortune.
A Lord of this Land that lov'd a Bum well,
Did lie with this Mort one night in the Strummel,
I cling'd me fast to him, and left my companions,
I scom'd to converse more with Tatterdemalians ;
But sued to Sir Giles, to promise in a Patent,
That my Heires might enjoy clean Linnen and Sattin ;
But the Parliament cross'd my Intention.
This Lord that I follow'd delighted in Tennis,
He sweat out my fat with going to Venice,
The Muses Recreation. Ji^(^
Where with a brave Donna, in single Duello,
He left me behind him within the BurdeUo ;
Where leacherous passages I did discover,
Betwixt Bona Roba, and Diego her Lover,
Youl'd wonder to heare the discourse oft.
The use of the Dildo they had without measure,
Behind and before, they have it at pleasure ;
All Aretines wayes, they practice with labour,
An Eunuch they hate like Beihlem Gabor,
Counting the English man but as a Stallion,
Leaving the Goat unto the Italian :
And this is the truth that I tell you.
Thus living with wonder, escaping the talent,
Of Citizen, Clown, Whore, Lawyer, and Gallant,
At last came a Soldier, I nimbly did ferk him.
Up the greazy skirts of s robustuous Buff Jerkin ;
Where finding companions, without any harm I
Was brought before Breda, to Spinola's army :
And there I remaine of a certain.
WM^
King Oberon's ApparelL
WHen the Monthly homed Queen
Grew jealous, that the Stars had seen
Her rising from Endymions armes.
In rage, she throws her misty charmes
VOL. 1. E
50 Musarum Delicice: Or,
Into the bosome of the night.
To dim their curious prying light.
Then did the dwarfish Faery Elves
(Having first attir'd themselves)
Prepare to dresse their Oberon King
In highest robes, for revelling.
In a Cobweb shirt, more thin
Then ever Spider since could spin,
Bleach'd by the whitenesse of the Snow,
As the stormy windes did blow
It in the vast and freezing aire ;
No sliirt halfe so fine, so faire.
A rich Waistcoat they did bring
Made of the Trout flies gilded wing.
At that his Elveship, 'gan to fret,
Swearing it would make him sweat.
Even with its weight, and needs would wear
His Waistcoat wove of downy haire.
New shaven from an Eunuch's chin ;
That pleas'd him well, 'twas wondrous thin.
The out-side of his Doublet was
Made of the four-leaVd true love grasse,
On which was set so fine a glosse.
By the oyle of crispy mosse ;
That through a mist, and starry light,
It made a Rainbow every night.
On every Seam, there was a Lace
Drawn by the unctuous Snails slow trace ;
To it, the purest Silver thread
Compar'd, did look like dull pale Lead.
The Muses Recreation. 5 1
Each Button was a sparkling eye
T'ane from the speckled Adders Frye,
Which in a gloomy night, and dark,
Twinckled like a fiery spark :
And, for coolnesse, next his skin,
'Twas with white Poppy lin'd within.
His Breeches of that Fleece were wrought,
Which from Colchos Jason brought ;
Spun into so fine a Yarne,
That mortals might it not discerne ;
Wove by Arachne, in her Loom,
Just before she had her doom ;
D/d crimson with a Maidens blush.
And lyn'd with Dandelyon Plush.
A rich mantle he did wear
Made of Tinsel Gossamer,
Bestarred over with a few
Dyamond drops of morning dew.
His Cap was all of Ladies love,
So passing light, that it did move.
If any humming Gnat or Fly
But buzz'd the ajrre, in passing by ;
About it was a wreath of Pearle,
Drop'd from the eyes of some poor girle
Pinch'd, because she had forgot
To leave faire water in the pot.
And for Feather, he did weare
Old Nisus fatall purple hatre.
The sword they girded on his Thigh,
Was smallest blade of finest Rye.
E 2
5 2 Musarum Delicus : Or,
A paire of Buskins they did bring
Of the Cow Ladye's Corall wing ;
Powder'd o're with spots of Jet,
And lin'd with purple- Violet.
His Belt was made of mirtle leaves,
Plaited in small curious threaves,
Beset with Amber Cowslip studds,
And fring'd about with Daizy Budds.
In which his Bugle home was hung.
Made of the babbling Eccho's tongue ;
Which set unto his Moon-burn'd lip.
He windes, and then his Faeries skip :
At that, the lazy dawn 'gan sound,
And each did trip a Faery round.
iy(y« 'VV 'vjf* '^fl^ v^^ 'W •yv* "yv* *>Ar» 'yv' 'vv' 'Njv* '\&'* %^ *^cr %IV
A Poets farewell to his thred bare Cloak.
GLoak (if I so may call thee) though thou art
My old acquaintance, prithee now let's part ;
Thou wer't my equall friend in thirty one.
But now thou look'st like a meer hanger-on.
And art so uselesse to me, I scarce know
Sometimes whether I have thee on or no.
But this I needs must say, when thou go'st from me,
These ten years thou hast been no burden to me :
Yet that's thy accusation ; for if I
Divorce thee from me, 'tis for Levity.
The Mtises Recreation. 53
Thou hast abus'd my Bed, that is, thou hast
Not kept me warme, when thou wer't over-cast.
Transparent garment, proof against all weather.
Men wonder by what art thou hang'st together ;
Nor can the eyes of the best reason pry
Into this new Occult Geometry.
A fellow t'other day but cast his eye on,
And swore I was mantled in Dent de lion.
Another ask't me (who was somewhat bolder)
Whether I wore a Love-bagge on my shoulder ?
I feare a fire, as faire maids the small poxe,
And dare not look towards a Tinder-boxe,
Nor him that sells 'em up and downe ; I know,
If he comes neer me, 'tis but touch and goe.
A red-fac'd fellow frights me, though some fear
That w'^ makes his nose red, makes my cloak bare.
They say my thick Back, and thin Cloak appear.
Very like powder'd Beef, and Vinegar.
An other vow'd (whose tongue had no restriction)
It was no garment, but the Poets- fiction.
Did ever man discover such a knack,
To walke in Qwrpo with a Cloak on's back !
A very zealous brother did begin
To jeer and say. Sir, your Original sinne
Is not wash'd ofi' (pray do not take it ill)
I see, you weare your Fathers Fig-leaves still.
A Scholar (in an elevated thought)
Protested, 'Twas the Webbe Arachne wrought
When she contended with Minerva : but
Another Raschal had his finger cut.
54 Musarum Delicice : Or,
And begg'd a piece to wrap about it. Thus
You see (kind Cobwebs) how they laugh at us.
Good Cambrick Lawn, depart ; let me not be
For ever fetter'd thus in Tiffany.
Although I never yet did merit praise,
I'de rather have my shoulders crown'd with Bays
7'han hung with Cypresse. If this fortune be
Alwayes dependant on poore Poetry,
I would my kinder destiny would call
Me to be one o'th'Clerks of Blackwell-hall ;
For though their easie studies are more dull,
Yet what they want in wit, they have in wool.
Once more farewell, these are no times for thee,
Thick Cloaks are onely fit for knavery.
The onely Cloaks that now are most in fashion
Are Liberty, Religion, Reformation :
All these are fac'd with zeal, and button'd down
With Jewels dropt from an imperiall Crowne.
He that would Cloak it in the new Translation,
Must have his Taylor cut it Pulpit-fashion.
Doe not appear within the City ; there
They minde not what men are, but what they weare.
The habit speaks the Man. How canst thou thrive
When a good Cloak's a Representative ?
The Females will not wear thee, they put on
Such Cloaks as doe obscure the rising Sunne.
How can'st thou hope for entertainment, when
Women make Cloaks ev'n of Committee men ?
Farewell good Cover-wit, upon the bryer
I'le hang thee up, if any doe enquire
The Muses Recreation. 55
Where his braines were that let his Cloak thus swing,
Tell him, his wits are gone a wool-gathering.
Upon a Fart unluckily let.
WEll Madam, wel, the Fart you put upon me
Hath in this Kingdome almost quite undone me.
Many a boystrous storm, & bitter gust
Have I endur'd, by Sea, and more I must :
But of all storms by Land, to me 'tis true,
This is the foulest blast that ever blew.
Not that it can so much impaire my credit,
For that I dare pronounce, 'twas I, that did it.
For when I thought to please you with a song,
'Twas but a straine too low that did me wrong \
But winged Fame will yet divulge it so.
That I shall heare oft wheresoe're I goe.
To see my friends, I now no longer dare,
Because my Fart will be before me there.
Nay more, which is to me my hardest doom,
I long to see you most, but dare not come ;
For if by chance or hap, we meet together.
You taunt me with, what winde. Sir, blew you hither ?
If I deny to tell, you will not fayle,
I thought your voice. Sir, would have drown'd your Taile ;
Thus am I hamper'd wheresoe're you meet me.
And thus, instead of better termes you greet me.
56 Musamm Delicm : Or,
I never held it such a heinous crime,
A Fart was lucky held, in former time ;
A Foxe of old, being destitute of food,
Farted, and said, this newes must needs be good,
I shall have food, I know, without delay.
Mine Arse doth sing so merrily to day ;
And so they say he had. But yet you see
The Foxes blessing proves a curse to me.
How much I wronged am, the case is cleare,
As I shall plainly make it to appear.
As thus, of all men let me be forsaken,
If of a Fart can any hold be taken :
For 'tis a Blast, and we Recorded finde,
King ^olus alone commands the winde.
Why should I then usurp, and undertake
The Subject of a Royall Prince to make
My Prisoner ? No, but as my duty bindes.
Leave that command unto the King of windes.
So, when I found him strugling to depart,
I freely gave him leave with all my heart.
Then judge you, gentle Ladyes, of my wrong.
Am I not well requited for my Song ?
All the revenge that I require is this.
That you may Fa,rt as oft as e're you pisse ;
So may you chance, the next time that we meet.
To vie the Ruflfe, and I dare not to see't.
In the meaiie time, on knees devoutly bended.
My Tongue craves pardon, if my Talk offended.
The Muses Recreation. 57
► '\A/* ')jy* *'^y* ^\iy* f^y* >^jy '\A^ ^\^* *>JV* '^jy* '^A" '^jxf* ^^u* 'ys/' '^jy
A young Man courting an old Widow.
DAme Hecuba, fye, be not coy, that look
How it drew up your wrinkles, like a Book
Of Vellam, at a fire ? glazen your eyes
And view this face, these limbs, here vertue lies
Restorative, will make you smooth and straight.
As you were in the sixth of Henry th'eighth.
Come, let us kisse, that soUtary Tusk,
As Garlick strong, but wholsomer then Musk,
Invites me neerer yet ; the hottest fires
Ne're scorch'd, as doe your ashes my desires.
Time was, I've heard my Grandfather report
When those eyes drew more company to Court
Then hope of Honour ; they have vertue still,
And work upon my breast, for as they dril
That humour down your yawning cheeks, my blood
Grows dull, congeals, & thickens with your Mud.
Somewhat youl'd say now ! I perceive your gums
Are labouring for't, as when we brace our Drums,
To make them sound the better : oh take heed,
A little winde shivers a cracking reed.
One syllable will fetch your lungs up ; stay
And make but signes, I'le guesse what you would say.
Good Granam, doe but nod your tottering head.
And shake your bunch of keys, you'l raise the dead.
58 Musarum Delicice : Or,
Why may not you and I be one ? there be
In one world, severall tempers. Harmony
Is made up thus, and Contraries preserve
That subject, where they doe each other serve.
Nor are we therefore over-neer akin.
Because your Granchilds niece hath marryed bin
To my great Unkle ; 'Twas a lovely paire,
They say, who knew them then, equally faire
In yeares and Fortune : this a Priest may doe,
Spight of Sterne Natures Laws, ^twixt me & you.
He can take you as y'are, me in my prime,
And tye up in one knot both ends of Time ;
'Mongst all your Coffers and your bags of Gold,
A cunning Goldsmith ever likes the old.
The new may prove as currant, and may passe
From hand to hand, as fast as a young Lasse.
But you'r more grave and stay'd, come, pray consent.
And blaze but one good snuff, e're you be spent.
Touch-wood should take fire soonest, as it falls.
Fresh joy clings fully close to aged walls.
So let us joyn thus in one volume bound,
A Chronicle and Corant may be found.
The Muses Recreation. 59
Upon Chesse-play. To Dr. Budden.
TO thee Laws Oracle, who hadst the power
To wage my pens imployment for an hour,
I send no Frogs, nor Mice, Pigmees, nor Cranes,
Giants nor Gods, which trouble so the braines
Or feighning Poets ; nor my leisure sings
The CounterbufFs of the foure painted Kings :
Those worthy Combatants have had their times,
And Battells sung in thousand curious rimes.
I sing the fierce Alarme, and direfull stroke
Of passing timbred men, all hearts of Oake ;
Men that scofne Armes defensive, nor, in heat
Of bloudy broiles, complaine of dust or sweat.
Men that doe thinke, no victory is fit
That's not compacted by the reach of wit.
Men that an Ambuscado know to lay,
T'entrap the Foe in his retiring way ;
Plot Stratagems, and teach their braines t'indite
What place is fittest to employ their might.
Dull down-right blowes, are fit for rustick wits.
Within the compasse of whose scalp there sits
A homebred sense, weak apprehension,
That strike the first they cast their eye upon ;
Those are the Chaff of Soldiers, but this Corn
Of choicest men, at highest rate is born.
6o Musarum Delicice : Or,
Here life is precious, where the meanest man
Is guarded by the Noblest, who doe scan,
(Not what a poor man is, but) what may prove,
If bravely to the Armies head he move ;
Such may his valour be, he may of right
Be an Executor to Rook or Knight,
Whose Lands fall to the King (their Master dead)
With which this Pawn lives to be honoured.
And doe his Prince good service. Tell me then,
Thou that dost distribute Justice to men.
Must Honours ever follow blood ? or should
Vertue be grac'd, though in the meanest Mould ?
Tell me, thou Man of Peace, are not these Wars
LawfuU and commendable, where the scars
Are for Command, where either Enemy
Seeks to himselfe a fifth great Monarchy?
Where neither knows his confines, but each foot
Is his, where he or his, can take firme root ?
Pity with me, the fortunes of those Kings,
Whose battell such an untaught Poet sings.
Know, that great Alexander could not have
An Homer ; and remember, in wars brave.
Each deeds a Poem, and he writes it best
Who doth engrave it on a conquered Crest.
If I offend, part of the blame is thine,
Thou gav'st the Theam, I did but frame the Line.
Two angry Kings weary of lingring peace.
Challenge the field, all Concord now must cease ;
So do their stomacks with fir'd anger burn,
Nothing but wounds, bloud, death, must serve the turne
The Muses Recreation. 6 1
They pitch'd their field in a faire chequer'd square,
Each form two Squadrons, in the former are
The common Soldiers, whose courageous scope
Is venturing their lives, like a Fortune, Hope.
These stil march on, & dare not break their rank.
But for to kill a Foe, then 'tis their prank
To make the ground good 'gainst the Enemy,
Till by a greater force subdu'd, they dye.
The Kings for safety, in mid battell stand.
And Marshal all their Nobles on each hand.
Next either King, an Amazonian Queen,
Like our sixt Henryes Margaret is seen.
Ready to scoure the Field, corner, or square.
She succours, where the Troops distressed are.
Next stand two Mytred Bishops which in War
Forget their Calling, vent'ring many a scar
In Princes cause, yet must no Bishop stray,
But leave the J)road, and keep the narrow way.
Next are two ventrous Knights, whose nimble feet
Leap o're mens heads, scorning to think it meet
They should stand Centinells, while the poor Pawnes,
With danger of their lives do scour the Lawnes.
The Battells out-spread wings, two Rooks doe guard.
These flanke the field so well, that there is barr'd
All side assaults ; these, for their valours grace,
(The King in danger) with him change their place.
But Majesty must keep a setled pace,
Rides not in post, moves to the nearest place,
That's to his Standart ; If there be report
Of the Kings danger, all troops must resort.
62 Musarum D elides : Or,
But now they sound Alarme, each heart doth swell
With wrath, strikes in the name of Christabel,
Strike, strike, be not agast, Soldiers are bound
To fear no death, much lesse to dread a wound.
Now without mercy dies the common Troop,
A Rook, a Bishop, and a Knight doth droop ;
Yet neither boasts of Conquest, though each hope
To win the field, which now is halfe laid ope
By Soldiers death ; now dares a martial Queen
Check her Foe King, when streight there steps between
A vent'rous Soldier, or a Noble man
Who cares not for his life, so that he can
From danger keep his King ; he feares not death.
In Princes cause, that gives each Subject breath.
But this Virago dyes, being left alone.
When straight a nimble Soldier steppeth on.
And through the thickest Troops hews out his way
And till he come to th'head doth nevej stay.
This brave attempt deserves the honouring ;
The Queens colours are his, given by the King ;
Who knows that valour should not want reward,
And vent'rous spirits, best keep a Princes guard.
Now is the War in heat, bloudy the Field,
Mercy is banish'd, none hath thought to yeild,
Basely to beg his breath ; the fame now ran,
That they must fight it out, to the last man.
All Soldiers dye, but one, who to his King,
Griev'd with his great losse, doth this comfort bring.
That their great Foe, whose Troops are all now dead.
Must to their swords, yeild up his Conquer'd head.
The Muses Recreation. 63
Then with their Check, and Check on either hand,
The poor disheartned King doth mated stand.
Though thus to dye it be the Princes fate.
Who dares pronounce he had a whisking mate ;
Who, rather then mumping forgoe the Field,
Joyes in the place he stands, his breath to yeild ?
But now the conquering couple want their breath.
Their festered wounds doe rankle, & grim death
Peeps through the gashes, down the Victors fall,
And then one generall Herse entombs them all.
The loose Wooer.
THou dost deny me, cause thou art a Wife,
Know, she that's Marry ed lives a single life
That loves but one ; abhor that Nuptiall curse,
Ty'd thee to him, for better and for worse.
Variety delights the active blood.
And Women the more common, the more good,
As all goods are; there's no Adultery,
And Marriage is the worst Monopoly.
The Learned Roman Clergy admits none
Of theirs to Marry : they love all, not one :
And every Nun can teach you, 'tis as meet.
To change your Bedfellow, as smock or sheet.
Say, would you be content onely to eate
Mutton or Beef, and tast no other meat ?
64 Musarum Delicice : Or,
It would grow loathsom to you, and I know
You have two palats, and the best below.
•\A^ •\^ '\jDi/* '\jy* '*jy* 'w* '^jy '^jy* 'jy* '^y* '^jy* '^jy* 'siy* "^y* '^y "jy*
C/pon the biting of Fleas.
Summon up all the terrifying paines
That ever were invented by the braines
Of earthly Tyrants ; Then descend to Hell,
And count the horrid tortures that doe dwell
In the darke Dungeon, where the horrid stone
Makes Sisipftus his panting ehtrailes groane.
Where Tantalus (in th'midst of plenty curst)
Is doom'd to famine, and eternall thirst ;
Where the pale Ghosts are lash'd with whips of steel.
Yet these are gentle, to the paines I feel.
Vex'd with a Thousand Pigmy friends, and such.
As dare not stand the onset of a touch.
Strange kind of Combatants, where Conquest lies
In nimbly skipping from their Enemies,
While they, with eager fiercenesse lay about
To catch the thing they faine would be without.
These sable furies bravely venture on.
But when I 'gin t'oppose them, whip, th'are gone.
Doubtlesse I think each is a Magick Dauncer,
Bred up by some infernall Necromancer,
But that I doe believe, none ere scarce knew
('Mong all their Spirits) such a damned crew.
The Muses Recreation. 65
Some, when they would expresse the gentle sting
Of a slight paine, call it a Flea-biting,
But were they in my place, they soon would finde
A cause sufficient for to change their minde.
Some, telhng how they vex'd another, say
I sent him with a Flea in's eare away,
Onely to shew what trouble hath possest
Him, whom this little creature doth molest.
It is reported, that a Mouse can daunt
The courage of the mighty Elephant.
Compare my bignesse, and the Fleas to theirs,
And I have smaller reason for my feares,
And yet I tremble when I feel them bite ;
Oh how they sting my flesh ? was black-browied night,
And the whist stillnesse of it, made my Fate,
To make man happy or unfortunate ?
If there be any happinesse or rest
In pangs of torture, I am fully blest.
All my five sences are combin'd in one,
For, but my sence of feeling, I have none,,
And that is left me, to increase my smart ;
Bloud-sucking Tyrants, will you nere depart ?
Why doe you hang iu Clusters on my skin ?
Come one to one, and try what you can win.
You Coward ^Ethiop Vermine ! Oh you Gods,
You are unjust, to load me with such odds.
If ^^»^-born Hercules can't deale with two,
Then what can I against a Legion doe ?
Their number freights me, not their strength ; I'le dare
The Lion, Fanther, Tiger, or the Beare
VOL. I. F
66. Musarum Delicice : Or,
To an encounter, to be freed from these
Relentlesse demy, Devills, cursed Fleas.
Upon Madam Chevereuze swimming
over the Thames.
'' I ""Was calm, and yet the Thames touch'd heaven to day,
X The water did find out the Milky way,
When Madam Chevereuze by swimming down.
Did the faire Thames the Qu. of Rivers crown.
The humble Willows on the shore grew proud
To see her in their shade her body shroud ;
And meeting her the Swan (wont to presume)
Bow'd to her whiter neck his suUyed Plume.
Was not great yove that Swan ? so shap'd, he came
To Leda's sight ; but Gods and Courtiers shame
Twice to appeare like ; I rather dream
love was not here, the Swan might be the stream,
And took far greater pleasure to be cool'd
In silver drops, then in his showre of gold.
And now let Aristotle s Schollers tread
Their Masters timeless footsteps to the dead,
In searching out the deepest secret, which
Or earth or water may be thought most rich.
Venus by Proxie from the floud ascends,
Bright Chevereuze the whole difference ends,
Adding so great a treasure to the waves.
As the whole earth seemes useless, but for graves.
The Muses Recreation. 6j
Water above the Earth by natures lyes,
But she hath plac'd it now above the skies.
The flame she took, a spirit of water drew,
Fram'd opall Raine, out of extracted Dew.
But her chast breast, cold as the Cloyster'd Nun,
Whose Frost to Chrystal might congeal the Sun,
So glaz'd the stream, that Pilots then afloat,
Thought they might safely land without a Boat.
July had seen the Thames in Ice involv'd,
Had it not been by her own beames dissolv'd :
But yet she left it Cordiall, 'twas no more
Thaw'd to so weake a water as before.
Else how could it have born all beauties fraight ?
Of force it mast have sunke so great a weight.
Have sunk her ? where ? how vainly doe I erre ?
Who know all depths are shallow unto her.
She dreads not in a River to be drown'd.
Who, then the Sea it selfe, is more profound.
Small Vessells shake, the great Ship safely Tydes,
And, like her Royall builder, awes their Tydes.
Above their fome, or rage, we see her float.
In her bright scorn, and. Madam, here's my Vote :
So may all troubled waves beneath you shrink ;
So may you swim for ever, your foes sinke.
##**
■*>#
r 2
68 Musarum Delic;i<s : Or,
upon Aglaura in Folio.
BY this large Margent did the Poet meane
To have a Comment writ upon the Scene ?
Or is it that the I^adyes (who ne're look
In any, but a Poem or Play-book)
May in each Page, have space to scribble down
When such a Lord or Fashion came to town ?
As Swames in Almanacks accompt doe keep
When their Cow calv'd, and when they bought their Sheep ?
Ink is the life of Paper; 'tis meet then
That this, w"^ scaped the Press, should feel the Fen^
A Room with one side furnish'd, or a Face,
Painted half way is but a foule disgrace.
This great Voluminous Pamphlet may be said
To be like one that hath more haire then head.
More excrement than body. Trees that sprout
With broadest leaves, have still the smallest fruit
V/hen I saw so much white, I did begin
To think Aglaura either did lye in.
Or else did .Penance, never did I see
(Unlesse in Bills dash'd in the Chancery)
So little in so much, as if the feet
Of Poetry, like Law, were sold by th'sheet.
If this new fashion doe but last one year,
Poets, as Clerks, would make our Paper deaie.
The Muses Recreation. 69
Doth not that Artist erre, and blast his fame,
Who sets our pictures lesser than the frame ?
Was ever Chamberlain so mad, to dare,
To lodge a child in the great bed at Ware ?
Aglaura would please better, die she lie
In th' narrow bounds of an Epitome ;
Pieces that are weaved of the finest twist,
As Silk and Plush, have still more stuff than list.
She that in Persian habits, made great brags,
Degenerates in this excesse of rags,
Who by her Gyant bulk, this onely gaines.
Perchance in Libraries to hang in chains.
'Tis not in Books, as Cloath j we never say.
Make London measure, when we buy a Play ;
But rather have them par'd ; those leaves be fair
To the judicious, which much spotted are.
Give me the sociable pocket books.
These empty Folio's onely please the looks.
Upon Liite-strings Cat-eaten.
A Re these the strings that Poets feigne.
Have clear'd the Air, & calm'd the Maine ?
Charm'd Wolves, and from the Mountain crests
Made Forrests dance, with all their Beasts ?
Could these neglected shreds you see.
Inspire a Lute of Ivorie, '
70 Musarum Delicice : Or,
And make it speak ? oh then think what
Hath been committed by my Cat,
Who in the silence of this night,
Hath gnawn these cords, and marr'd them quite,
Leaving such relicts as may be
For frets, not for my Lute, but me.
Pusse, I will curse thee, maist thou dwell
With some dry Hermit in a Cel,
Where Rat ne're peep'd, where Mouse ne'er fed.
And Flies go supperlesse to bed :
Or with some close-pafd Brother, where
Thoul't fast each Sabbath in the yeare.
Or else, profane, be hang'd on Monday,
For butchering a Mouse on Sunday.
Or maist thou tumble from some tower.
And misse to light upon all foure,
Taking a fall that may unty
Eight of nine lives and let them fly.
Or may the midnight embers sindge
Thy dainty coat, or lane beswinge
Thy hyde, when she shall take thee biting
Her Cheeseclouts, or her house be —
What, was diere ne're a Rat nor Mouse,
N ot Butery ope ; nought in the house
But harmlesse Lutestrings, could suffice
Thy j>aunch, and draw thy glaring eyes ?
Did not thy conscious stomach finde
Nature profan'd, that kind with kind
Should staunch his hunger ? think on that.
Thou Canniball and Cyclops Cat.
The Muses Recreation. 71
For know, thou wretch, that every string
Is a cats gut, which Art doth bring
Into a thread ; and now suppose
Dunstan, that snuff'd the Devills nose.
Should bid these strings revive, as once
He did the Calfe, from naked bones ;
Or I to plague thee for thy sin.
Should draw a Circle, and begin
To Conjure, for I am, look to't,
An Oxford Scholer, and can doe't.
Then with three sets of Mops and Mowes,
Seaven of odd words, and Motley showes,
A thousand tricks, that may be taken
From Faustus, Lambe, or Frier-Bacon ;
I should begin to call my strings
My Cattlings, and my Minikins ;
And they re-catted, streight should fall
To mew, to purre, to Caterwawle ;
From Pusses belly, sure as death,
Pusse should be an Engastrumeth.
Pusse should be sent for to the King,
For a strange Bird or some rare thing.
Pusse should be sought to farre and neer.
As she some cunning woman were.
Pusse should be carried up and downe,
From Shire to Shire, from Town to Towne,
Like to the Cammell, leane as Hag,
The Elephant or Apish Nag,
For a strange sight ; Pusse should be sung
In Lowsie Ballads, midst the throng.
72 Musarum Delkm : Or,
At Markets, with as good a grace
As Agincourt, or Chevy Chace.
The TViy-sprung Britain would forgoe
His Pedigree, he chanteth so,
And sing that Merlin (long deceast)
Return'd is in a nine liv'd beast.
Thus Pusse thou seest, what might betide thee,
But I forbear to hurt or chide thee.
For't may be Pusse was Melancholy,
And so to make her blythe and Jolly,
Finding these strings, shel'd Jiave a fit
Of Mirth ; nay, Pusse, if that were it ;
Thus I revenge me, that as thou
Hast plaid on them, I on thee now ;
And as thy touch was nothing fine.
So I've but scratch'd these notes of mine.
To a Lady vexd with a jealous Husband.
WHen you sit musing, Lady, all alone
Casting up all your cares with private moan,
When your heart bleeds with griefe, you are no more
Neer unto comfort, than you were before.
You cannot mend your state with sighes or tears,
Sorrow's no Balsome for distrustful! feares.
Have you a Foe you hate, wish him no worse
A Plague or Torment, then thePillowes curse.
The Muses Recreation. T2>
Observe your Lord with ne're so strict an eye,
You cannot go to piss without a spy.
If but a Mouse doth stir about his bed,
He starts, and sweares he is dishonoured,
And when a jealous dream doth craze his pate.
Straight he resolves he will be separate.
Tell me, right worthy Cuckolds, if you can.
What good this folly doth reflect on man ?
Are women made^ more loyall ? hath it power
To guard the Tree, that none can pluck the Flower ?
It is within the power of jealous heads.
To banish lust from Court, or Country beds ?
I never knew, that base and foul mistrust
Made any chast, that had a mind to lust.
It cannot make her honest, that by kind.
To loose and wild affections is inclin'd.
Debar her Lord, she, to supply his room,
Will have a Horse-boy, or a Stable-groom.
Keep her from youth of lower rank and place,
She'l kiss his Scullion, and with Knaves embrace :
Suspect her faith withall, and all mistrust,
She'l buy a Monkey to supply her lust :
Lock her from Man and Beast, and all content,
She'l make thee Cuckold with an instrument :
For women are like angry Mastives Chain'd,
They bit at all, when they are all restrain'd.-
We may set locks and guards to watch their fires.
But have no meanes to quench their hot desires.
Man may as well, by cunning, go about.
To stop the Sun in motion, as by doubt,
74 Musarum Delicics : Or,
To keep a nettled woman, if that she
Strongly disposed be to Venery.
How many thousand women that were Saints,
Are now made sinful! by unjust restraints ?
How many do commit, for very spight,
That take small pleasure in that sweet delight ?
Some are for malice, some for mirth unjust,
Some kisse for love, and some do act for lust.
But if the fates intend to make me blest,
And Hymen bind me to a female breast,
(As yet, I thank my starres, I am not ty'd
In servile bonds to any wanton Bride)
Let Cinthia be my Crest, and let me wear
The Cuckolds badge, if I distrust, or fear.
'Tis told me oft, a smooth and gentle hand
Keeps women more in aw of due command.
Than if we set a Ganneril on their Docks,
Ride them with Bits, or on their gear set Locks.
For then, like furious Colts, they'l frisk and fling,
Grow wild and mad, and will do any thing.
But if we slack our reyns, to please their will,
Kindnesse will keep them from committing iU.
You blessed creatures, hold your female rights.
Conquer by day, as you o'recome by nights,
And tell the jealous world thus much from me.
Bondage may make them bad, whose mindes are free.
Had Collatin been jealous (say this more)
Without a rape, Lucrece had dy'd a whore.
The Muses Recreation. 75
Invitation to dalliance.
BE not thou so foolish nice,
As to be intreated twice ;
What should Women more incite,
Than their own sweet appetite ?
Shall savage things more freedom have
Than nature unto Women gave ?
The Swan, the Turtle, and the Sparrow
Bill a while, then take the marrow.
They Bill, they Kisse, what else they doe
Come Bill, and Kisse, and I'le shew you.
The Countrey mans Song in the Spanish Curate.
LEt the Bells ring, and the Boyes sing.
The young Lasses trip and play.
Let the Cups goe round, till round goes the ground,
Our learned Vicar wee'le stay.
Let the Pig turn merrily hey,
And let the fat Goose swim.
For verily, verily, hey.
Our Vicar this day shall be trim.
76 Musarum Delicice : Or,
The stew'd Cock shall Crow, Cockadoodle doe,
Aloud Cockadoodle shall Crow ;
The Duck and the Drake that swim in the Lake
Of Onions and Clarret below.
Our Wives shall be neat, to bring in our meat.
To thee, our Noble Adviser,
Our paines shall be great, and our pottles shall sweat.
And we our selves will be wiser.
Wee'l labour and swink, wee'l kisse and wee'l drink,
And Tithes shall come thicker and thicker j
Wee'l fall to the Plough, and get children enow,
And thou shalt be learned, Oh Vicar !
Upon the sight of an old decay d patch' d Bed,
with a Pillow having T. R. as a marke on it.
Prologue.
MErvail not {Reader) though the Sun shine bright
About you, if I bid you all good night,
I'le tell how't may properly be sed,
Though you are up, yet I am going to bed.
Poetaster.
My slumbring Muse upon thy drowsie bed,
Rest once againe thine unattired head
The Muses Recreation. 77
Where, for thy great Mecenas so commands,
Thy best assayes with saporiferous bands.
While darknesse did thine outward senses Wind,
Tell me what fancies did usurp thy minde.
Muse.
What think you Sir, while sleep enthral'd my head,
What subject could I have, except my bed ?
Poetaster.
A bed no subject to be written on,
But lain, yea by the Muses trod upon.
Muse.
The pillow from the bed I think's nor farre.
And yet on that were written T. and R.
But to be lien on, right I like it well,
For why in lying, Poets bear the Bell,
And to be trod upon, tis not unmeet.
The Muses scand their subjects with their feet.
Poetaster.
The R. O muse thou there saw'st (to be brief)
Was nothing but a Rogue, the T. a Thief :
In the next verse, but two,, I blush to tell,
Thou first broughtst forth a Lie, & then a Bell.
Take heed of Libels Muse, thy Poet feares,
If thy feet stumble, he may lose his eares.
To sever Thieves and Poets I am loath,
Because I know Mercurius was both.
78 Musarum DelicitB : Or, -
Muse.
Within thy verses as Birds of a feather,
Liars, rogues, thieves, and Muses flock together.
By whom I'm softly to my subject led,
For flocks and feathers do fill up the bed.
Bacchus his merry boules may humour breed.
But divine raptures from the bed proceed.
Let the Pot Poets in their fury try,
With dipping their Malignant pens to dry
The Muses fountain, my inventions streams
Can never faile, while beds procure me dreams. ,
If we one Science justly may admire.
What shall we here where all the Seven conspire ;
The letters on the pillow witnesse may
That on this bed some Grammer lately lay ;
In Logick also it must needs be able,
For 'twas a Cord would make a pretty Cable :
That beds have Rhetorick we need not fear,
While to his pillow each man lends his eare :
Who number all the feathers in it can,
Must be a good Arithmetitian.
The joynts cry creek when on them any lie,
As if the stocks hung by Geometry.
Its musick sure is pleasant which can keep
In spight of snorting eyes and eares asleep.
The bed I take for deep Astronomy,
Which alwaies studies to eclipse the eye.
If you seek Planets, this is Vulcans gin,
That Mars and Vmus were so fetter'd in.
The Muses Recreation. 79
Astrologie in this doth also dwell,
For men by Dreames may future things foretell :
To read strong lines, if any minde be bent,
Herein the bed can also give content.
Not sage Apollo, nor the sacred Nine
Can then this Bed-cord shew a stronger line.
Methinkes I'me very sleepy still, and loath
To rise, but that I've on me ne're a cloath.
'Twas T. and R. as sure's I live, 'twas they
That stole the Coverlet and Sheets away.
Out ! a Roap choak you both, y'are arrant knaves,
I'de knock you soundly had I but Bed-staves.
Epilogue.
IF ought obscure you in my Verses, marke,
Poets use not their Beds but in the darke.
If false or foolish any thing you deem,
Sith't came from Bed, account it for a Dream.
If in my Verses boldly any catches.
The Bed, my subject, was as full of patches :
The blurs and blots I make, let none disdaine.
The Bed in one place had an ugly staine.
If my unpollish't lines being dull and dry.
Doe make you heavy, I will tell you why.
Some subjects make men laugh, some make them weep
But the Bed-post is to bring all asleep.
8o Musarum Delicice : Or,
A Letter to Sir yohn Mennis, when the Parliament
denied the King Money to pay the Army, unlesse a Priest,
whom the King had reprieved, might be executed. Sir
John at that time wanting the Money for provisions for his
troop, desired me by his Letter to goe to the Priest, and to
perswade him to dye for the good of the Army ; saying,
What isH for him to hang an houre.
To give an Army strength and power ?
The Reply.
BY my last Letter lohn thou see'st
What I have done to soften Priest ;
Yet could not with all I could say,
Perswade him hang to get thee pay.
Thou Swad, quoth he, I plainly see,
The Army wants no food by thee.
Fast oftner, friend, or if you'l eate
Use Oaten straw, or straw of Wheat ;
They'l serve to moderate thy jelly.
And (which it needs) take up thy belly.
As one that in a Taverne breaks
A Glasse, steales by the Barre, and sneaks ;
At this rebuke, with no lesse haste, I
Trudg'd from the Priest, and Prison nasty :
The Muses Recreation. 8 1
The truth is, he gave little credit
To'th' Armies wants, because I said it.
And, if you'l presse it further, lohn,
'Tis fit you send a leaner man.
For thou with ease can'st friends expose
For thy behoof to fortunes blows.
Suppose we being found together
Had pass'd for Birds of the same feather ?
I had perchance been shrewdly shent,
And maul'd too, by the Parliament.
Have you beheld th'unlucky Ape
For roasted Chesnuts mump and gape.
And ofF'ring at them with his pawes,
But loath he is to scorch his clawes
When viewing on the Hearth asleep
A Puppy, gives him cause to weep :
To spare his owne, he takes his help,
And rakes out Nuts with foot of whelp.
Which done, (as if 'twere all but play)
Your Name-sake looks another way.
The Cur awakes, and findes his thumbs
In paine, but knows not whence it comes j
He takes it first to be some Cramp,
And now he spreads, now licks his vamp ;
Both are in vaine, no ease appeares.
What should he doe ? he shakes his eares.
And hobling on three legs he goes.
Whining away with aking toes.
Not in much better case perhaps,
I might have been to serve thy chaps,
VOL. I, G
Musarum Delicice : Or,
And have beshrew'd my fingers end,
For groping so in cause of friend ;
While thou wouldst munch like horse in Manger,
And reach at Nuts with others danger :
Yet have I ventur'd farre to serve,
My friend that sayes he's like to sterve.
The Fart censured in the Parliament House.
Puffing down corns grave antient Sir lo. Crook,
And reads his message promptly without book.
Very well, quoth Sir William Morris, so ;
But Harry Ludlows foysting Arse cry'd no.
Then starts up one fuller of devotion
Then eloquence, and sayes, An ill motion.
Nay, by my Faith, quoth Sir Henry lenkin.
The motion were good, wer't not for stinking.
Quoth Sir Henry Pool, 'Tis an audacious trick.
To Fart in the Face of the body Politick.
Now without doubt, quoth Sir Edward Grevil,
I must confesse, it was very uncivill.
Thank God, quoth Sir Edward Hungerford,
That this Fart prove not a Turd.
Indeed, quoth Sir lohn Trevor, it gave a foule knock.
As it launch'd forth from his stinking Dock.
I, quoth another it once so chanced,
That a great Man Farted, as he daunced.
Quoth Sir Richard Haughton, no Justice of Quorum
But would take it in snuffe, t'have a fart let before'um.
The Muses Recreation. 83
Such a fart as this ne're before was seen,
Quoth the most learned Councel of the Queen.
Quoth Mr. Daniel, this young man's too bold,
This priviledge belongs to us that are old.
Then wo the time, quoth Sir Laurence Hyde,
That these our priviledges are deny'd.
Quoth Mr. Recorder a word for the City,
To cut off the Aldermans right, were great pity.
Well, quoth Kit Brook, wee'l give you a reason.
Though he had right by descent, he had not livery
and seisin.
Yet, quoth M. Peak, I have a president in store,
His father farted last Sessions before.
Then said Mr. Noy, this may very well be done,
A fart may be entail'd from the father to the son.
Saith Mr. Moore, let us this motion repeale,
What's good for the private, is ill for the Common weal.
A goodyear on this Fart, quoth gentle Sir Harry,
He hath caus'd such an Earth-quake, that my Coal-
pits miscarry.
It is hard to recall a Fart when tis out.
Quoth Sir William Lower with a loud shout.
Yes, quoth Sir Laurence Hide, that we may come by it,
Wee'l make z, proviso, time it and tye it.
Qd. Sir Harry the hardy, look well to each clause.
As well for Englands Liberty as Lawes.
Now then the knightly Doctor protests,
This Fart shall be brought into th'Court of Requests.
Nay rather, sayes Sir Edwin, I'le make a digression,
And fart him a project, shall last him a Session,
a 2
84 Musarum Delicice : Or,
Then Sir Edward Hoby alleadg'd with the spigot,
If you fart at the Union, remember Kit Pigot.
Swooks quoth Sir lohn Lee, is your Arse in dotage ?
Could you not have kept this breath to cool your pottage ?
Grave Senat quoth Mr. Duncomb, upon my salvation
This Fart had need of great Reformation.
Quoth the Countrey Courtier upon my Conscience,
It might have been reformed with Frankinsence.
We must have this Fart by Parliament enacted,
Said another, before this businesse be transacted.
And so we shall have (oh do not abhor it !)
A Fart from Scotland reciprocall for it.
A very good jest it is by this light,
Quoth spruce Mr. lames of the Isle of Wight.
Quoth Sir Robert Johnson, if you'l not laugh
I'le measure this Fart with my Jacobs staffe.
Now by my troth, quoth sage Mr. Bennet,
We must have a selected Committee to pen it.
Philip Gawdy stroak'd the old stubble of his face.
Said, the Fart was well penn'd, so sat downe in his place.
Then modest Sir John JJollis said, on his word,
It was but a Shoo that creak'd on a board.
Not so, quoth Sir John Ackland, that cannot be.
The place underneath is matted you see.
Before God, said Mr. Brooke, to tell you no lye,
This Fart, by our Law, is of the Post-nati.
Fye, quoth M. Fotherby, I like liot this Embassage,
A Fart Interlocutory in the midst of a Message.
In all your Eloquence then, quoth Mr. Martin,
You cannot finde out this figure of Farting.
The Muses Recreation. 8^
Naj', quoth Dr. Crompton, can any man draw
This Fart within compasse of the Civill Law ?
Then Sir William Pady, I dare assure'm,
Though't be Contra modestiam, 'tis not Contra naturam.
Up starts Ned Weymark the Pasquil of Pawls,
And said, this Fart would have fitted the Master of the Rolls.
Said Oxenbridge, there is great suspition,
That this Fart savours of Popish Superstition.
Nay, said Mr. Good, and also some other,
This Fart came from som reformed Brother.
Then up start Sir lohn Yong, and swore by Gods nailes,
Was nere such a Fart let in the Borders of Wales.
Sir Walter Cope said, this Fart as 'twas let.
Might well have broke ope his privy Cabinet.
Sir lerome in Folio, swore by the Masse,
This Fart was enough to have broke all the Glasse.
And Sir lerome the lesse said, such an abuse,
Was never committed in Poland or Pruce.
In compasse of a thousand miles about,
Sir Roger Owen said, such a Fart came not out.
Quoth Sir lohn Parker, I sweare by my Rapier,
This Bombard was stufF'd with very foul Paper.
Now quoth Mr. Lewknor, we have found such a thing
As no Tale-bearer dares carry to the King.
Quoth Sir Lewis his Brother, if it come of Embassage,
The Master of the Ceremonies must give it passage.
I, quoth Sir Robert Drury, that were your part.
If so it had been a forrein Fart.
Nay, said Sir Richard Lovelace, to end the difference.
It were fit with the Lords to have a conference.
86 Musaruni Delicics : Or,
Hark, quoth Sir lohn Townsend, this Fart had the might,
To deny his owne Master to be dubbed Knight,
For had it ambition, or orationis pars.
Your Son could have told him, quid est Ars.
Quoth Sir Thomas Lake, if this house be not able
To censure this Fart, I'le have it to the Councel Table.
It were no great grievance, qd, M. Hare,
If the Surveyour herein had his share.
Be patient Gentlemen, quoth Sir Francis Bacon,
There's none of us all but may be thus mistaken.
Silence, quoth Bojid, though words be but wind.
Yet I doe mislike these Motions behinde.
Then, quoth Mr. Price, it stinks tlie more you stir it,
Naturam expellas furca, recurrit.
Then gan sage Mounson silence to break.
And said, this Fart would make an Image speak.
Up rises the Speaker, that noble Ephestimi,
And sayes, Gentlemen, I'le put you a question :
The question propounded the eares did lose,
For the Major part went there with the nose.
Sir Robert Cotton, well read in old stories,
(Having conferred his notes with Mr. Pories,
I can well witnesse that these are no fables)
Said, 'twas hard to put the Fart in his Tables.
If 'twould bear an Action, saith Sir Tho: Holcrofi,
I'ld make of this Fart a Bolt or a shaft.
Quoth Sir Roger Ashton, 'twould mend well the matter.
If 'twere shav'd and well wash'd in rose water :
Why, quoth Sir Roger Acton, how should I tell it,
A Fart by hearsay, and neither hear it nor smell it ?
The Muses Recreation. 8 7
Quoth Sir Thomas Knevet, I fear here doth lurk
In this Hallow Vault, some more powder work.
Then precisely rose Sir Anthony Cope,
And pra/d to God, 'twere no Bull from the Pope.
Quoth Sir The: Chaloner, I'le demonstrate this fart
To b'a voice of the Belly, and not of the heart.
Then by my Faith saith Sir Edwin Sandyes,
He playes not by th'line, this Gentleman bandies.
Then said Sir George More, in his wonted order,
I mean but to speak against the houses disorder.
The Fart which we favour far more then is fit,
I wish to the Sergeant you would commit.
The Sergeant refus'd it, humbly on's knees.
For Farts break Prison, and never pay Fees t
Wherefore this motion without reason stands
To charg me with what I can't hold in my hands.
Then quoth the Clerk, I now plainly see
That a private Act is some gaine for me.
All which was admitted by Sir Thomas Freak,
This Gentleman saith, his Shoo did but creak
Then said Sir Richard Gargrave by and by.
This Gentleman speaketh as well as I.
But all at last said, it was most fit.
The Fart as a Traitor, to the Tower to commit :
Where as they say, it remaines to this houre.
Yet not close prisoner, but at large in the Tower.
88 Musarum DelicicB : Or,
The Farts Epitaph.
REader, I was borne and cryed,
Crackt so, smelt so, and so dyed.
Like to Csesars was my death.
He in Senat lost his breath ;
And alike inter' d doth lye.
Thy famous Romulus and I.
And, at last, like Yktra. /aire,
T left the Common wealth mine Aire.
Will Bagnalls Ballet.
A Ballet, a Ballet, let every Poet,
A Ballet make with speed.
And he that hath wit, now let him shew it,
For never was greater need.
And I that never made Ballet before,
Will make one now, though I never make more.
O Women, monstrous women.
What doe you meane to doe i
It is their pride and strange attire
That bindes me to this taske,
Which King and Court did much admire,
At the last Christmas Maske :
The Muses Recreation. 89
But by your entertainment then,
You should have smalt cause to come there agen.
O Women, &c.
You cannot be contented to goe,
As did the Women of old,
But you are all for pride and shew,
As they were for weather and cold.
O women, women, Fie, Fie, Fie,
I wonder you are not ashamed, I.
O Women, &c.
Where is the decency become
That your fore-mothers had ?
In Gowns of Cloth, and Caps of Thrum,
They went full meanly clad ;
But you must jet it in silks and Gold,
Your pride in Winter is never acold.
O Women, &c.
Your Faces trickt and painted be,
Your Breasts all open bare,
So farre, that a man may almost see
Unto your Lady ware.
And in the Church to tell you true,
Men cannot serve God for looking on you.
O Women, &c.
But many there are of those that goe,
Attir'd from head to heel,
That them from men you cannot know,
Unlesse you doe them feel.
90 Musaruin VelicicB : Or,
But oh for shame, though you have none,
'Tis better to believe, and let them alone.
O Women, &c.
Both round and short, they cut their haire.
Whose length should Women grace,
Loose like themselves, their hats they wear ;
And when they come in place
Where Courtship and complements must be.
They doe it like Men, with Cap and Knee.
O Women, &c.
They at their sides, against our Lawes,
With little Ponyards goe ;
Which surely is, I thinke, because
They love Mens weapons so :
Or else it is, they'le stab all Men
That doe refuse to stab them agen.
O Women, &c.
Doublets like to Men they weare.
As if they meant to flout us.
Wast round, like Points and Ribbons too,
But I pray let's look about us.
For since the Doublet doth so well fit 'um.
They will have the Breeches and if they can get 'um.
O Women, &c.
And when the Maske was at the Court
Before the King to be showne.
They got upon seats to see the sport,
But soone they were puU'd downe :
The Muses Recreation. 9 1
And many were thrust out of dores,
Their coats well-cudgeld, and they call'd whores.
Oh King, Religious King,
God save thy Majesty.
And women all whom this concernes,
Though you offended be,
And now in foule and ratling tearms
Doe swagger and sweare at me :
He tell you, if you mend not your wayes,
The Devill will fetch you all one of these dayes.
O Women, monstrous women.
What doe you meane to doei
Dr. Smiths Ballet.
Will Womens vanities never have end.
Alack what is the matter ?
Shall Poets all their spirits spend,
And Women yet never the better ?
Will Bagnalls Ballet hath done no good
To the head that is hid in the Taffety hood.
Which makes the vertuous chew the Cud,
And I till now their Debter.
I once resolved to be blinde,
And never set pen to sheet,
Though all the race of Women kinde
Were mad I would not see't.
92 Musarum Delicice : Or,
> But now my heart is so big, it struts,
And hold I cannot for my guts ;
With as much ease as men crack Nuts
My rimes and numbers meet.
And first I will begin to touch
Upon their daubing paint ;
Their pride that way it is so much.
It makes my muse grow faint.
And when they are got into a new Suit,
They look as though they would straight go to't.
The Devill's in't, and's dam to boot,
'T would anger any Saint.
Their soaring thoughts to book advance,
'Tis odds it may undoe um,
For ever since Dame £ves mischance.
That villanous itch sticks to um ;
And when they have got but a little smack,
They talke as if nothing they did lack,
Of Wither Draiton or Balzack,
'T would weary a Man to woe um.
Their Faces are besmear'd and pierc'd.
With severall sorts of Patches,
As if some Cats their skins had flead
With Scarres, half Moons and Notches.
Prodigious signes there keep their stations.
And meteors of most dreadfull fashions.
Booker hath no such Prognostications :
Now out upon them wretches !
The Muses Recreation. 93
With these they are disguised so,
They look as untoward as elves,
Their Husbands scarce their Wives can know,
Nor they sometimes themselves.
And every morn they feed their chaps,
With Caudles, Broths, and Honey-sops :
And lap it up as thick as hops,
Nere thinke on him that Delves.
Sometimes I thinke them quite subdu'd.
They let me use such freedome.
And by and by they call'd me rude.
And such a word makes me dum.
They are so fickle and shy God save um
That a Man can never tell where to have um.
I would we were all resolved to leave um,
While we hereafter need um.
Their kinde behaviour is a trap
For Men wherein to catch um.
With Sugered words they lye at snap.
But I'le be sure to watch um ;
And when with every quaint devise.
They get us into fooles Paradise,
They laugh and leave us in a trise.
The Fiend will one day fetch um.
Sometimes they in the water lurk
Like fish with Silver finns ;
And then I wish I were the Turke,
And these my Concubines.
94 Musarum Delicice : Or,
But to tell you the truth without any erring,
They are neither Fish, Flesh, nor good red Herring:
And when so e're you find them stirring,
They will put you in minde of your sins.
A Syren once had got a drone,
And she began to chatter.
Quoth she, sweet heart I am thine owne,
But I Faith it was no such matter.
But when he thought her as sure as a gun.
She set up her taile and away she run.
As if she did mean to out-strip the Sun,
The Devill could never have set her.
Or if some Women mean good sooth.
And purpose lawfuU marriage ;
'Tis ten to one they have never a tooth,
And then poor man must forrage.
Who so is sped, is matcht with a Woman,
He may weep without the help of an Onyon.
He's an Oxe and an Asse, and a slubberdeguUion,
That wooes and does not bar Age.
Your zealous Lecturers often preach.
And Homilies eke expound.
But Women as if they were out of their reach,
Persevere and stand their ground.
They may preach as well to the Walls or roof,
There's not one amongst ten that are Sermon proofs
Their hearts are as hard as a Horses hoofe,
And as hollow, but not so sound.
The Muses Recreation. 95
And when doe you thinke this yeare may mend,
And come to a better passe ?
In truth, I thinke, it will never have end.
What never ? then out, Alas !
They hold such wicked Counsells between um,
We can doe little else but make Ballads against um.
Ten thousand furies I think are in um,
Is not this a pittifuU case ?
I thinke it were not much amisse,
To bring them into a Play,
There's matter enough and enough I wisse.
And I'le have the second day ;
Where some shall be attir'd like Pages,
The rest shall be as they are Bagages ;
He that sets them awork, will pay them their wages.
Troth that's the onely way.
And now we have brought them upon the stage.
All sorts of people among ;
I'le there expose them like Birds in a Cage,
To be gap'd on in midst of the throng.
Nay, now I have got them within my Clutches,
I'le neither favour Lady nor Dutches,
Although they may think this over-much is.
They are no more to me, then those that goe on
crutches.
/ made this staffe too long.
Now Lord preserve our gracious Queen,
That gives her cautions ample,
96 Musarum Delicia : Or,
Yet they as if it never had been,
On all good precepts trample.
But heres the spite, it would anger a stone.
That a Woman should goe to Heaven alone :
But it will never be by hope that's bred in the bone,
They'l never mend by example.
Upon Sir John Sucklings most warlike
preparations for the Scotish Warre.
Sir John got him on an Ambling Nag,
To Scotland for to ride a,
With a hundred horse more, all his own he swore
To guard him on every side a.
No Errant Knight ever went to fight
With halfe so gay a Bravado,
Had you seen but his look, you'ld have sworn on a book
Hee'ld have conquer'd a whole Armado.
The Ladyes ran all to the windowes to see
So gallant and warlike a sight a,
And as he pass'd by, they began to cry.
Sir yohn, why will you go fight a ?
But he like a cruel Knight, spurr'd on,
His heart did not relent a,
For, till he came there, he shewed no fear,
Till then, why should he repent a ?
The Muses Recreation. 97
The King (God bless him) had singular hopes
Of him and all his Troop a.
The Borderers they, as they met him on the way
For joy did hollow and whoop a.
None lik'd him so well as his own Colonel,
Who toke him for yohn de Weart a.
But when there were shows of gunning and blows
My gallant was nothing so peart a.
For when the Scots Army came within sight
And all men prepar'd to fight a,
He ran to his Tent, they ask'd what he meant,
He swore he must needs go shite a.
The Colonel sent for him back agen
To quarter him in the Van a.
But Sir J^ohn did swear he came not there
To be kill'd the very first man a.
To cure his fear he was sent to the Rere,
Some Ten miles back, and more a,
Where he did play at Tre trip for Hay
And nere saw the enemy more a.
But now there is peace, he's return'd to increse
His money, which lately Ijie spepit a.
But his lost bpnour must still ly ii) the dust,
At Barwick g.way it wept a.
^
VOL. I. H
gS Musarum Delicice : Or,
<^u» na/* ^a^ 'yy 'Niv* 's^/* •^iv* 'na^ "w* '^JV '^Jy* '^fl^ '^fl^ *^4^ '^5^ *^
7)5^ C/flf Cloaks reply to the Poets Farewell.
Win you be guilty (Master) of this wrong,
As thus to sell your Servant for a Song,
And now when I am fitter for your wear?
A Poets habit ever is thred bare.
(Master) if still you love the good old way,
Then why not me ? why not old Cloaks I pray ?
Let Revels rant in silkes . this ragged dresse.
Sets forth a loyall Subjects comelinesse.
Oft have I seen boyes point when you came neer,
And say, There goes an honest Cavaliere.
But when some Gold-bedawb'd favourite.
Ruffling in Silkes hath glister'd in their sight.
Then have I seen the boyes to stamp and rave,
And cry Pox on him, there's a round-head knave.
It is some comfort (Master) then I see,
A good name you shall gaine by wearing me.
Then hang good cloaths, it is the worst of crimes
To weare good garments in such wicked times.
A newer Cloak you might have long since got,
But (pardon me) a fitter you could not
You are agriev'd, 'cause I am thin and light.
And truly (Master) you your self are slight :
How can't be otherwise, when as you see.
Your best friends sleight you ? All your friends but me.
The Muses Recreation. 99
I have stuck to you in all sorts of weather,
Though (I confesse) I can scarce hold together.
I did not thrust my selfe upon you 'tis confest,
I first was drawn, and afterwards was prest ;
Then bound, then hang'd, and now I may speak true,
I'le first be hang'd ere I do part from you.
The most in me that you can reprehend.
Is, that I have been onely your back friend.
And is not this that now all good men lack ?
I have conceal'd your shame behinde your back.
And when some foule reports liave broken out,
'Twas I that kept them from being blown about.
I patiently have suffer'd much distast.
Rather then have your worship be disgrac't.
I have endur'd with you all times, all weather,
And shall we part now ? No, wee'l hang together.
Partus Chauceri Posthumus
Gulielmi Nelson.
Listen you Lordlings to a noble game.
Which I shall tell you, by thilk Lord S. Javie;
Of a lewd Clerk, and of his behaviour bold.
He was I trow, some threescore winters old.
Of Cambridge was this Clerk, not Oxenford,
Well known at Stilton., Stewkey, and Stamford.
He haunted fenney Staunton, and Saint Ives,
And fair could gloze among the Country Wives.
H 2
loo Musarum Delidtz : Or,
A lusty Runnyon ware he in his hose,
Lowd could he speak, and crackle in the Nose.
For Schollarship him car'd him light or nought,
To serve his turn, he English Postills bought.
He us'd no colour, nor no Rhetorick,
But yet he couth some termes of art Logick,
He was full rude and hot in disputation^
And wondrous frequent in his predication.
Full gravely couth he spit, fore he gan speak
And in his mouth some Sugar-Candy break.
But yet his preaching wa« to small efifect,
Though lowd he roar'd, in th'Northem Dialect.
He ware a Cassock deep, but of small cost,
His state was spent in Nutmeg, Ale and Toast.
A gauld back'd spittle Jade for travelling
He kept in summer, but the wintering
Too costly was, rode he early or later.
Nought was his provender but grass and water.
Well liquour'd were his boots, & wondrous wide,
Ne Sword ne Rapyer ware he by his side,
A long vast Cloak-bag was his Caryage
Ther nis the like from Hull unto Carthage.
But, sooth to say, he was for ay formall.
And ware a thred-bare Cloak Canonicall.
He had a Deanship and a Parsonage,
Yet was in debt and danger all his age,
His greater summe he payes by borrowing,
And lesser scores, by often punishing.
If that a Problem, or a common place
Come to his share, he is in jolly case j
The Muses Recreation. loi
Then to a Nape of Ling he would invite
Some Rascall Tapster, hardly worth a Mite.
Well was he known in every Village Town,
The good Wives clep'd him Gossip up & down ;
Oft was he Maudlin-drunk, then would he weep,
Not for his sinnes, of them he took small keep :
It was the humour fell down from his eyn,
Distill'd from Ale, he drank but little wine ;
And being asked why those teares did fall,
Soothly he preached at a Funerall.
And when with drinking he was some deal mellow.
His motto was, Faith Lad, Ps halfe good fellow.
Thus preach'd he often on an Ale-house Bench,
And, when the Spirit mov'd, cough'd for his Wench,
And Bastards got, which, if God send them grace.
They may succeed him in his Seniors place.
He was an ide Senior for the nonce,
Foul may befall his body, and his bones.
Upon the same.
Twice twenty Sermons, & tsrice five, I ween,
(And yet not one of them in print is seen)
He preach'd, God and St. Mary's witnesseth.
Where loud he roar'd, yet had but little pith.
I02 Musarum D elides : Or,
Imitatio Chauceri altera.
In eundem..
LEave, Jeffrey Chaucer, to describen a Man
In thine old phrason, so well as I can.
I ken no glozing, for my wit is rude,
Nath'lesse I'le limb out his similitude.
Fierce was his look, 'twas danger him to meet.
He passed like a Tempest through the street.
Narrow his eyn, his Nose was Chamised,
Sawfleum his Face, forked his Beard and head.
Pardie I wot not what men doe him call,
Dan Thomas, ne Dan Richard, n'of what Hall
He is, ne CoUedge j but by th'holy Mattin,
He was a frequent guest at lohn Port Lattin;
And eke at all other dayes festivall.
He had a liquorous tooth over all ;
Ne was there any Wight in all this Town,
That tasted better a Pasty of Venisoun,
Ybaked with Gravy Gods plenty,
It relished better then Austin's works or Gregory.
Yet politick he was, and worldly wise,
And purchac'd hath, a double Benefice.
Small was his Wage, and little was his hire.
He let his sheep accumber in the mire ;
And solac'd at St. Johns, or at St. Fauls,
That was a Sanctuary for his Soules.
The Muses Recreation. \ o^
Sir lohn of them, must alwaies taken keep,
A shitten Sheepherd cannot make clean sheep.
Ne God Mercurius, ne Melpomene,
E're look'd upon him at's Nativity :
Or if they look'd, they looked all ascaunce.
So was he made a Priest by foule mischance.
Pardie he was of the worst clay /maked,
That e're Dame Nature in her Furnace baked.
For in his youth he was a Serving-man,
And busily on his Masters errand ran ;
And fairly fore a Cloak-bag couth he ride,
Algates a rusty whinyard by his side ;
And he that whilom could not change a groat.
Hath changed, for a Cassock, his blew Coat.
One cannot see the Body, nor the Bulke,
That whilom did attend on aged Fulk ;
A larger Gown hath all y'covered.
And a square Cap doth pent-house his swjrnes head.
Yet notes he got, when his Master disputed.
And when the learned Papists he confuted.
The Borel men sayn, he preach well ynough,
But others known, that he stoln all his stufife.
LustfuU he was, at Forty needs must wed.
Old January will have May in bed,
And live in glee, for, as wise men have sayn,
Old Fish, and young Flesh, would I have fayn.
And thus he swinketh ; but, to end my story,
Men sayn, he needs no other Purgatory.
104 Musarum D elicit : Or,
The Nightingale.
MY Limbs were weary, and my head opprest
With drowsiness, and yet I could not rest.
My Bed was such, as Down nor Feather can
Make one more soft, though love againe turn Swan ;
No fear-distracted thoughts, my slumbers broke,
I heard no Screech Owl shreek, nor Raven croak ;
Sleep's foe, the Flea, that proud insulting Elfe,
Is now at truce, and is asleep it selfe.
But 'twas nights darling, and the worlds chief Jewell,
The Nightingale, that was so sweetly cruelL
It woo'd my eares to rob my eyes of sleep.
That whilst she sung of Terms, they might weep ;
And yet rejoyce the Tyrant did her wrong,
Her cause of woe, was burthen of her song.
Which while I listened to, and strove to heare,
'Twas such, I could have wish'd my seUe all eare.
'Tis false th^t Poets feign of Orpheus, he
Could neither move a beast, a stone, or tree
To follow him, but wheresoe're she flyes.
The Grovy Satyr, and the Faery hyes
Afore her Perch, to dance their Roundelayes,
For she sings Distichs to them, whfle Pan playes.
Yet she sung better now, as if in me
She meant with sleep to try the Mastery.
But while she chaunted thus, the Cock for spight,
Dayes hoarser Herald, chid away the night ;
Thus rob'd of sleep, my eye-lids nightly guest,
Methought I lay content, though not at rest
The: Muses Recreation. 105
Epitaph on Mistrisse Mary Prideaux.
HAppy Grave thou dost enshrine
That which makes thee a rich Myne,
Yet remember, 'tis but loane,
And we look for back our owne.
The very same, marke me, the same,
Thou shalt not cheat us with a Lame
Deformed Carcasse ; this was faire,
Fresh as morning, soft as Ayre j
Purer then other flesh as faire
As other Soules their bodies are :
And that thou maist the better see
To finde her out, two starres there be
Eclipsed now ; uncloud but those,
And they will point thee to the Rose
That dy'd each Cheek, now pale and wan,
But will be, when she wakes againe
Fresher then ever ;. and how ere
Her long sleep may alter her.
Her Soul will know her Body streight,
'Twas made so fit for't, no deceipt
Can suit another to it, none
Cloath it so neatly as its owne.
io6 ■ Musarum Delicice : Or,
"^flf "W* *w* 'ytv* '^iv• '^iv '^^v* ^iv ^i** '^fi'' '^V 'N'V "^fi^* *^^* '^^T 'V^'*
cxs2Xs2Xs<i3CrcjXE<rXb(ixj
6^<7;« Drinking in the Crown of a Hat.
WEll fare those three, that when there was a Dearth
Of Cups to drink in, yet could finde out mirth.
And spight of Fortune, make their want their store.
And nought to drink in, caused drinking more.
No brittle glasse we used, nor did we thinke
'Twould help the taste, t'have windows to our drinke.
We scom'd base Clay, w* tortur'd in the wheel,
Martyr'd at last, the force of fire doth feel.
Both these doe faile, we drink not morally,
In such like Emblems of mortality.
The Cups that Brewers use, and long use may,
But us'd by women the contrary way,
Polluted not our Pallats ; nor the horn.
Due to the forehead, by our lips was worne.
We did abhor these hell-bred, bloud-bought Mettals,
Silver and gold ; nor should that which makes Kettles
Serve us for cups ; nor that which is the Newter
Betwixt these five, and is ycleped Pewter ;
But twas as rare a thing, as often tryed,
As best of these, though seven times purifyed
A seven times scoured Felt, but turned never,
And pity tis, I cannot call it Bever.
The circumlated Crown, somewhat deprest,
And by degrees, toward the one side thrust.
The Muses Recreation. 107
That to our lips it might the better stoop,
Varyed a little th'figure of a Hoop ;
From a just-Circle drawing out an Angle,
And that we might not for our measure wrangle.
The Butlers self, whose Hat it was and Band,
Fill'd each his measure with an even hand.
Thus did we round it, and did never shrink.
Till we that wanted Cups, now wanted drinkj
An Epitaph upon Doctor Prideaux'^y Son.
HEre lyes his Parents hopes and fears,
Once all their joyes, now all their tears.
He's now past sence, past fear of paine,
'Twere sin to wish him here againe.
Had it liv'd to have been a Man,
This Inch had grown but to a span ;
And now he takes up the lesse room,
Rock'd from his Cradle to his Tomb.
'Tis better dye a child, at four.
Then live and dye so at fourscore.
View but the way by which we come,
Thou'lt say, he's best, that's first at home.
■io8 Musarum Delicice : Or,
On his Mistrisse having the Green-sicknesse.
WHite Innocence, that now lyes spread
Forsaken on thy widdow'd Bed,
Cold and alone ; for fear, love, hate.
Or shame, recall thy crimson mate
From his dark Mazes, to reside
With thee, his chast and Maiden-bride :
And lest he backward thence should flow,
Congeale him Ln thy Virgin-snow.
But if his owne heat, with thy paire
Of Neighbouring Suns, and flaming haire,
Thaw him into a new Divorce,
Lest to the heart he take his course :
O lodge me there where I'le defeat
A future hope of his retreat ;
And force the fugitive to seek
A constant station in thy cheek.
So each shall have his proper place,
I in your heart, he in your face.
The Muses Recreation. 109
Upon the naked Bedlams, and spotted Blasts,
we see in Covent Garden.
WHen Besse / she ne're was halfe so vainly dad,
Besse ne'er was halfe so naked, halfe so mad.
Again, this raves with Lust, for Love Besse ranted.
Then Besses skin was tan'd, but this is painted :
No, this is Madam Spots, 'tis she, I know her,
Her face is powdred Ermin, I'le speak to her ;
How does your most enammel'd Ladyship ?
Nay pardon me, I dare not touch your Lip.
What kisse a Leopard ! he that Lips will close.
With such a Beast as you, may lose his Nose.
Why in such hast ? before we part 'tis meet.
You should doe penance Madam in a Sheet :
'Tis time v/hen Schism and Error so lowd cries.
To punish such notorious Sectaries.
I publickly appeare halfe Adamite,
In private practice you are one outoight.
But Dapl'd Ladyes, if you needs must show
Your nakednesse, yet pray why spotted so ?
Has beauty think you lustre from these spots ?
Is Paper fairer when 'tis stain'd with blots ?
What have you cut your Mask out into sippets,
Like wanton Girles, to make you Spots and Tippets;
no Musarum DelicicB : Or,
As I have seen a Cook, that over-neat,
To garnish out a dish hath spoil'd good meat ?
Pride is a Plague, why sure these are the scares,
I will write (Lord have mercy) on your doors.
Devills are black who doubt it, but some write
That there are likewise Devills that are white :
Well, I have found a third sort that are neither,
They are P/de Devils, black and white together.
Come, tell me true, for what these Spots are set,
Are they Decoyes to draw fools to your net ?
Are they like Ribons in the Mane and Tayle,
Of an old wincing Mare that's set to sale ?
You that use publick trade must hang out Signes,
Bushes you think will vent your naughty Wines.
I'le tell you (Ladyes) never give me trust,
If these baites move not more to scorn than Lust
Perhaps they may a stomach tempt, that loves
A Gammon of Bacon that's stuft with Cloves ;
Or White-broath with Pruines, but never hope,
That Love or Lust, to this patch't Lure should stoop,
Unlesse of such rude Ruffians, as nere blush.
To enter wheresoe're they see a bush.
Whose Breeches and whose Shirts make plain report,
That they as ready are as you for sport.
Take my advice to be secure from jeers.
Wash off your stinking Spots with bitter teares.
O you sweet Rurall beauties who were never
Infected with this ugly spotted Feaver,
Whose face is smoother then the ivory plaine.
Need neither spots from France, nor paint from Spaine.
The Muses Recreation. in
Whose snowie Mountaines never saw the light,
And yet the Sun never saw Snow so white ;
Whose dresse the Emblem is of Modesty,
Whose looks secure you from attempts ; whose Eye
Has made lobs Vow, and kept it, and whose whole
Behaviour chast is, as your Virgin-soule :
Which to adorn, take up your choicest thoughts,
Not to get Pendants, Paintings, Ribonds, Spots :
Trust me (sweet Ladies) I that never thought
To love againe, do now extreamly dote ;
Men that have Wit, Religion or Estates,
Will be ambitious to make you their Mates :
Whilst all those naked Bedlams, painted Babies,
Spottified Faces, and Frenchified Ladies,
With all their proud phantasticall disguises,
Will prove at last, but fooles and beggars prizes.
Dear Coz : the want of thy sweet company.
Puts me upon this idle Poetry :
May you returne with Olive in your hand.
Bring thy deare self to me, peace to the Land.
112 Musarum Detichs : Or,
To Sir John Mennis, on a rich prize which
he took on the Seas.
WAlking last Friday morning in my Garden,
Where stands a house that I have grunted hard in :
And finding there sweet William by my Bower,
It made me thinke of lohn for halfe an houre.
Thou art (1 heare) where thou dost play Camoggin
Thou broughtest from Wales, 'gainst flute of Hogan Mogan.
And where thou richly dost abound in Ghelt,
And ropes of Pearl now strip't off from thy Belt ;
But now kid up in safety on the shelfe,
Pearl that's more orient, then the East it self;
A Bag of piapionds too : and I Divine,
That long ere this, all the Hauns Townes are thine -
After thine own thou needst not call these Lands,
For they are ready Christned to thy hands,
Whiles thus in thy Seraglio thou dost brisde,
Poore Lady at New-castle may go whistle,
Or gnaw the sheets for anguish, no lohn comes,
He weares out all he hath in forraine bums,
Hee's not at all concem'd in us (poor souls)
His friends may hang and who's will carry coles.
Nay never tosse your nose ; I knew thee man
When thou wer't little better then poor lohn :
The worlds well mended since the warre began,
Thou'rt now become the great Leviathan :
The Muses Recreation, 113
And as that monster when he hath got a prize
Now eats, then farts out Pilchards as he hes.
So thou devour'st at Sea, making no bones
Of smaller vessells, and their precious Stones.
We have no booties brought us in from Sea,
To furnish us for rates or monthly pay.
No Jewels, nor rich prizes, no such matter,
When Troopers come, we run & pawn a Platter,
Than we can spare, for we have little meat,
If this world hold, we shall forget to eate.
We shall be free-born people then {Oh Hector)
When we have nothing left but a
Hard-hearted Knight, how canst thou heare this tale
And not bepisse thy self with grief or Ale ?
Hast thou no moisture, no relenting left ?
Wilt thou sit alwayes brooding ore thy theft.
And part with never a penny to the Muses,
Nor to thy friends, nor yet to pious uses ?
Wee'le draw thy picture (Churle) and thy shape both
Standing like Dives in the painted cloth.
One that nere thought upon his friends till then,
When he was in the Devills frying pan.
Then when it is too late thou wilt confesse.
Thou hast more sinn'd in Friendship then
VOL. I.
X 1 4 Musarum Delicice : Or,
A Defiance to K. A. and his round Table.
Incipit J. A.
AS it befell on a Pentecost day,
King Arthur at Catnelot, kept his Court royall
With his faire Queen dame Guinever the gay,
And many Princes and Lords in Hall.
Heralds with Hukes, hearing full hie
Cryed largesse, largesse, Chevaliers tres hardy.
A doubty Dwarfe to the uppermost Deske,
Boldly gan wick kneeling on knee ;
Cry'd, King Arthur God thee save and see.
Sir Rhines of Northgales greeteth well thee,
And bids that thy Beard anon thou him send.
Or else from thy jawes he will it oi5F rend.
For his Roabe of State is a rich Scarlet Mantle,
With eleven Kings Beards bordered about.
And there is room left in a Cantell,
For thine to make it out.
This must be done, be thou never so stout,
This must be done, I tell thee no Fable,
Maugre the teeth of all thy round Table.
When this doubty dwarfe his dismall message had said,
The King fum'd, Queen screek'd, Ladyes were agast,
Princes puff 'd, Barons bluster'd. Lords began to lowre.
Knights and Squires storm'd, like Steeds in a flowre,
The Muses Recreation. 115
Yeomen and Pages yelld out in hall,
With that came in Sir Guy the Seneschall.
Silence my Soveraigne, quoth this Courteous Knight,
And therewithal! the stowre began to still.
The Dwarfes dinner was full dearly deight.
Of Wine and Wassell he had his will.
And when he had eaten and drunken his fill,
A hundred pieces of fine Coined Gold,
Was given the Dwarfe for his Message so bold.
But say to Sir Rhines thou Dwarfe quoth the King,
That for his bold Message, I him defie.
For shortly I meane with Basons him to ring
Out of Northgales where he and I
With Swords, and no Razors shall quickly try,
Which of us two is the best Barber.
And then withall he shook his good Sword.
Excutitur
Sic ExpUcit, I. A.
FINIS.
I 2
WIT
RESTOR'D
In feverall Select
POEMS
Not formerly publifli't.
LONDON,
Printed for R. Pollard, N. Brooks, and T. Dring,
and are to be sold at the Old Exchange,
and in Fleetstreet. 1658.
,£ 1
— I i u; ij!
Wit R
ESTOR'D.
Mr. Smith, to Captain Mennis
then commanding a Troop of Horse in the North,
against the Scots.
WHy what (a good year) means my John i
So staunch a Muse as thine ner'e won
The Grecian prize ; how did she eame ?
The bayes she brought from Epsom Feame ?
There teem'd she freely as the hipps,
The Hermit kist with trembling lipps.
And can she be thus costive now
While things are carried (heaven knowes how)
While Church and State with fury parch,
Or zeal as mad as hare in March ?
While birds of Amsterdam do flutter
And stick as close as bread and butter :
As straw to Jett, or burre to squall,
Or something else unto a wall.
Can such a dreadfuU tempest be,
And yet not shake the North and thee ?
I20 Wit Res tor' d.
Where is thy sense, of publike feares ?
Wil't sit unmov'd as Roman Peeres,
Till some bold Gaule pluck thee by th' beard,
Thou and thy Muse (I think) are sear'd,
As I have heard Divines to tell
The conscience is that's mark't for hell.
Ah Noble friend, this rough, harsh way
May pinch where I intended play.
But blame me not, the present times
So serious are, that even my Rymes
In the same hurry rapt, are so,
Indeed whether I will or no.
And otherwise my Numbers flie
Than meant, in spight of Drollerie :
Tis good to end when words do nipp
And thus out of their hamesse slipp.
Besides, the thing which men mispend
Call'd Time, as precious is as friend,
Tak't not unkindly, I professe
None loves you better then I. S.
From London where the snow hath bin
As white as milke, and high as shin
From Viscount Conwaies house in street
Of woman Royall, where we meet :
The day too cold for wine and Burrage
The fourth precedent to Plum-porrage
December moneth, and yeare of grace
Sixteene hundred and forty to an Ace.
To friend of mine, Captaine jFohn Mmnis
At town of York that now and then is.
Wit Res tor' d. 121
Or if you misse him there, go look
In company oi Hunkes Sir Fook;
They two perhaps may have a pull
At Selbie, Beverley, or Hull,
Or else you'l finde him at his quarter,
Send it, and let him
Pay the Porter.
"^ ^a^ "Na" '■or •sar "w* •\ar "W" 'iflr "w* "w* -w "yj/" "vn^ "^a/" Vk"
Z)^^ j(2OT^, Zb //^^ same.
MY doubtie Squire of Kentissh crew
that ha'st read stories old and new
prick up thine eares unto a tale
that will un-nerve and make thee stale :
When thou shalt heare how manie pears,
The parliament hath had by th' eares.
Comming as close as shirt of Nessus,
To privie Councellors (god blesse us)
The Judges they are deep in bond.
And fart for fear they shall bee Connd,
The Ren of Elie, and the prelate
Of Bath and Wells have had a pellat
And they have plac't (his grace's) cod
Under the lash of Maxwell's rod.
But I am told the Finch is warie
And fled after the Secretarie,
122 Wit Restored.
And all this is, that men may see
Others can runne as well as wee.
I hitherto have told, dear Captain,
Of prisons that our peeres are clapt in :
And all I wrote was like a groane
Sadd as the melanchoUie droane.
Of Countrie baggpipe, now I sing
Matter as chearfuU as the spring,
Of wine (deare freind) will make us wanton
Better nere drunck by lohn of Gatint, one
That at third glasse did mount his Launce
And got a boy whose sonne got Fraunce :
Besides, the reckoning will bee more
(Humble I meane) then heretofore ;
For now the Alderman hight Abell
Has given his parchment up with labell,
To no more purpose is his pattent
Then that the fool had shitt and sate in't :
Now may wee freely laugh, and drink,
And overcharg'd goe pisse i'th sinck
Then too't again, beginne a health
Of twelve goe-downes to th'Com-monwealth
Then mount a stall, and sleep, and when
Wee rise againe bee nere th' worse men :
This fitt's my freindshipp, but not mee,
I must bee sober as the Bee
That often sippes, yet doth not stray
But to his owne hive findes the way,
Soe shalt thou not blush to acknowledge
Him that was once of Zincolne-Colledge,
'Wii Restored. 123
But now of Bromely Hall neere Bow
Look, and you'l find his name below.
J. Smith.
From spatious lodgings of Lord mine
In street of female majesty, past nine;
The day whereon wee whett our knives
As men to eat even for their lives.
He that ha's none tis time to borrow.
For Christmas day is ee'ne to morrow.
The same, to the same.
MY note which cost thee pennies Sixe
(It seeme's) still in thy stomack stick's
had'st thou but beheld how willing
1 was for thine to pay a shilling
(For footeman forth the money layd
Which must with int'rest bee defrayd)
Hereafter thou wouldst not bee nice
For everie note to part with sice.
Thy journey to the foe with Coyne
Would madded have a saint or twayne.
So sillie Bee with wearie thighes
Home to her master's storehouse hie's ;
Whence (her rich fraught unladed) shea
Againe returne's an emptie Bee.
124 Wii Restored.
I joy to heare thou raign'st in place
Of the defunct Arch bishop's grace,
For thou (I doubt not) wilt bee grea'st :
By freind for prebendry i th' fist :
Mee thinkes I fancie prester J^ames
In Cope envellop't without seames.
With silke and golde embroydred ore,
And brestplat like a belt before :
As Pedler ha's to bear his pack,,
Or Creeple with a chUde at's back.
Else when my Bettie dropp's away
(That fourteen yeares hath been my Toy)
Some one Il'e marrie that's thy Neece
And Livings have with Bellie-peece,
This some call Symonie oth'smock,
Or Codpeece, that's against the Nock.
The health you meant mee in the Quart
I have, and partly thanke you: for't,
But yet I muse (as well I may)
At pot so funish't, without pay.
For at, that time wee were told here
You all were sixe weeks in arreare ;
Ha'st thou made merchandise, of Crop ?
Or solde some landes, left out oth' mapp ?
Or ha'st thou nimm'd from saddle bow
A pistol! tlirough diy troope, or so?
Leaveing halfe-naked horses Crest
Like Amazon with but one brest ;
Well, lett it goe : I thinke this geare
Fitt to bee scann'd, but not too neare.
Wii Restored. 125
However, sure I should finde lohn
Thriftie, but yet an honest man,
Yet tak heed in these pinching times
And age so catching after crimes,
It bee not given out how you quaf t
Sugar, and eggs, in morning's draught ;
I grudge thee not ; for if I met
Vulponis potion, or could get
Nectar, or else dissolv'd to dew
Th'Elixir, which the gods n'ere knew :
'Twere thine, yea I would save the dropps
For thee that fell besides thy chopps ;
But yet the needy state (Ifeare)'
May think much of thy Costly cheare ;
The best is, if they' barre thy maw '
From sodden drink, thou't have it raw :
And reason good, the hea'vens defend;
Th9,t thou should'st -want, and I thy friend.
■ I.S.
From house of Viscount Conway, where
Kendme hath food, and Down's Count Lare,
Deceniber moneth, day of St. ^ohn
That 'mongst th' Evangelists made one,
Forty, (besides the sixteen hundred)
We count yeares past since Kend was fbundred.
And this Bissextile, that, sans pumps.
Frisk's, and is call'd the yeare that Jum'ps.
126 Wii Restored.
The same, to the same.
I Must call from between thy thighs
Thy urine back into thine eyes,
And make thee when my tale thou hear'st
Channell thy cheekes with Launt rever'st ;
Thy Landladie that made thee broth
When drugge made orifice to froath,
That every fortnight shifted sheet
To keep thy nest, and bodie sweet ;
That heard thee knock at peepe of day
When boy snor'de that on pallat lay ;
Rose in her smock, and gave thee counsell
To lift thy foot for feare of groundsell,
That often wamd thee of the quart
And praid (in vain) to turn thy heart,
This Landladie in grave is pent
Now shedd thy moysture, man of Kent :
Two rings shee left, for thee tone, to' ther
For Andrew that does call thee brother.
This dries thy teares that were a brewing ;
Now li'st to newes of State ensuing,
ludge Littleton is made Lord Keeper.
And feeds on chick and pigeon peeper,
The kings Attourney Sr John Bancks
Succeds him, but may spare his thankes.
Wit Restored. 127
Herbert is thought the meetest man
To fill the place of Bancks Sr lohn,
London-Recorder thence doth jogge,
In Herberts roome to trudge, and fogg :
And St y^ohns one that's sharp and wittie
Is made winde-instrument o'th'Citty.
Thus tis in towne, but in the Camp
There's one preferrd will make thee stamp,
For Sr John Berkly's Sergeant Maior
To Willmott, let it not bread Jarre,
Nor can the Viscount whom lohn putts
In trust, prevent it for his gutts
More shalt thou know when tis more fitt.
When thou and I in Tavern sitt ;
Till when, and ever, heaven thee send
The wishes of thy constant freind,
I.S.
In street of Coleman from swanne Ally
Where while I stay in towne, I shall lye
In house of Mistresse Street, relict
Of Robert, whom for mate shee pickt :
And where, with eeles, and flounders fiyde,
And tongve of Neat that never lyed
I fiUd my paunch, but when I belsh,
It utter's language worse than welsh.
yanus the moneth that holdes us tack,
One, with a face be hinde his back :
Full sixteene hundred yeares wee score
And fiftie, (bateing six, and fowr)
128 Wit Restored.
And this leape-yeare wee count to bee,
A yeare that come's but once in three.
The same, to the same.
THy wants wherewith thou long hast tugfd,
And been as sad as Bear that's lug'd,
Thou'lt laugh at, when thou hear'st how odly
Thy fellowes shift in Town ungodly.
Commodities we took on trust.
And promis'd Tradesmen payment just,
To be retum'd from Northern part.
When treasure hence arriv'd in Cart.
And, but till now of late, they crep
From stair to stair, with trembling step ;
So modest, that they blush'd to name.
For what they to our Chambers came.
Impatient now, both young and old,
Assault my fort with knuckle bold.
And as in bed perplex'd I he,
I hear one say. The Cart's gone by.
With that they all attempt my dore.
With pulse more daring then before ;
And of their parcells make a dinne
Louder, then when they drew me in.
Rouz'd with this rudenesse, first, I chop
Upon some foreman of the shop ;
Wii Res tor' d. 129
Take him by'th'hand aside, and there
I tell him wonders in his ear.
So by degrees I send them jogging,
Suppled with Ale, and language cogging.
But newes of this makes Scrivener wary,
And eight i'th hundred Don look awiy
That we do stoop to sums as Small,
As children venture at Cock-all.
And lives we lead, (I cry heaven mercy)
Worse then a Troop that has the Farsie,
While man that keeps the Ordinary,
Will not believe, nor Landlord tarry.
O happy Captain, that may'st houze
In Quarter free, and uncheckt brouze
On teeming hedge, when purse is light,
Or on the wholsom Sallat bite :
While we have nought, when mony fails,
To bite upon, but our own nails ;
And they so short with often tewing.
There's not much left to hold us chewing ;
Or if there were,, 'twould onely whet
Stomack, for what it could not get,
And make more keen the appetite,
Like tyring-bitt for Faulkner's Kyte.
To mend my commons, dad in jerkin,
On Friday last I rode to Berkin,
Where lowring heavens with welcom saucst us
As when the Fiends were sent for Faustus;
Such claps of thunder, and such rain.
That Poets will not stick to feign,
VOL. I. K
I30 Wit Restor'd:
The gods with too much Nectar sped,
Their truckles drew, and piss'd a bed.
And that they belsh'd from stomack musty
Vapour, that made the weather gusty.
Well, 'tis a sad condition, where
A man must fast, or feed in fear.
I lately thee from North did call,
Now stay, or else bring wherewithall,
Unlesse thy credit here prove better,
Than does thy friend's, that wrote this Letter.
I.S.
Day tenth thrice told, the morning fair.
The month still with a face to spare.
The same, to the same.
NO sooner I from supper rose.
But Letter came, though not in prose,
Which tells of fight, and Duell famous,
Perform'd between a man and a mouse.
An English Captain, and a Scot,
The one disarm'd, the other not.
It speaks moreover of some stirring,
To make a Cov'nant new as Herring.
Carr, and Mountrosse, and eke Argile :
Well was that Nation term'd a Boyl,
In breach of England, that doth stick,
And vex the body Politick.
Wit Restor'd. 131
But (whatsoe're be the pretence)
Doubtlesse they strive about the pence ;
While English Trooper, like a Gull,
Serves but to hold the Cow to th'Bull.
Pray tell me, yohn, did it not nettle
Thee, and thy Myrmidons of Mettle,
To see the boy with country-lash.
Drive on the jades that drew the cash?
And by thy needy quarters go,
Asking the way to Camp of fo ?
So Tantalus with hungry maw,
And thirsty gullet, daily saw
'Water and fruit swim by his chaps.
While he in vain at either snaps.
Or else as Phcebus, when full fraught.
And tipled with his mornings draught.
Reels like a drunken Jackanapes,
With bladder tight, o're soyl that gapes?
And afterwards in corner odd,
Perhaps lesse thirsty, empties codd.
So fares it with my friends, (god wot)
Whom treasure skips t'enrich the Scot.
Leave then that wretched Climate, where
Thy wants have rid thee like the Mare ;
And haste to Town, where thou shalt find
Thy friend, that now hath newly din'd.
I.S.
Day twenty sixt, and when yohn saies.
Faces about, the Month obays.
K 2
132 WiiResior'd.
The same, to the same.
WHy how now friend, why com'st not hither?
Hast thou not leave as Ught as feather ?
Here have I mark't a Butt of Sack
Whose maiden-head shall welcome Jack,
'Against which when drawer advanc'd gimlet,
I suffer'd him not, but did him let.
And yet thou comm'st not ; Why dost pause,
And there continue, keeping Dawes ?
Does Hostesse stay thy steed perforce,
For that which was not fault of Horse ?
Thou haste command of more then one,
For I have seen at tail of jFokn,
Full Palfreys sixt)' in array,
(I mean upon the Muster-day)
Or art thou entertain'd to give
Physick to one, that else might live,
Some aged Sir, whose wife is bent
To change him for a Cock of Kent.
Well, be it what it will, I'le swear.
There's something in't, that thou stay'st there.
Howe're, let businesse, wine, or friendship,
Draw thee from out that Northern endship.
If none of those provoke thy straddle.
Take pitty on my riming noddle,
Wit Resior'd. ly-
That restlesse runs with numbers fierce,
And's troubled with a flux of verse.
On that condition I'le relate,
Once more to Captain, ftewes of State :
Judge Bartlet sitting on his stall,
In Westminster, with's back to the wall.
Was there surpriz'd, and grip'd by th'wrist
By Maxwell, with his clouter fist ;
Who truss'd the Judge, and bore him hot,
To the SherifiPs house, but ptlum'd him not ;
For there he set him down i'th Hall,
And left him to them, robes and all.
As when a pack of eager Hounds,
Hunting full cry along the grounds.
Take o're some common moor, that's fraught
With old cast Jades, and good for nought :
Who, conscious of their fates, do hale up
Their thin short tails, and try to gallop,
Get out o'th way for life and limme,
Each fearing they are come for him.
So far'd the Judges, such fears wrung 'em.
When Maxwell spent his mouth among 'em.
Then come away, man, places stoop.
Yet thou remainst in fortune's poop.
If thou wert set to ride the Circuit,
In Bartlefs room, how thou wouldst firk it.
The art is, to forget acquaintance,
And break a jest in giving Sentence,
Which thou wilt learn, and then be quick
With Sherifs, and thou hast the trick.
134 Wit Restored.
These lessons con, and keep in store,
From ,5 that hath an ^ before.
From Bromely, where I ghuess by th* Mill-Dike
That tis the Moneth sirnamed Fill-Dike
Which govem's now, and I beleeve
The day is Tom of Staffords Eve,
Full sixteen hundred yeares (I hold)
And fifty (bating five twice told)
Expired are since yeare of grace
I'th Almanack first ghew'd his face :
Or (which is nearer to our trade)
Twelve score and two, since Guns were made.
%B^ '\f^ *JV* '^|^ "^A^ f^i^ «^/» *\^y* »^^ »\f^ f^^ *^^ 'yV* %(V* •^u* t^j^
The Gallants of the Times.
Supposed to be made by Mr. William Murrey of
His Majesties Bed-chamber.
COme hither the maddest of all the Land,
The Bear at the Bridge-foot this day must be baited
Gallants flock thither on every hand
Waggs wantonly minded, & merry conceited
Ther's Wentworth, and Willmoit, and Weston and Cave,
If these are not mad boys, who the devill, would you
have.
To drink to Will Murray, they all doe agree
And every one crys, To mee, boys, to mee I
, Wit Restored. 135
A great Burgandine for Will Murray's sake
George Symonds, he vows the first course to take :
When Stradling a Graecian dogg let fly,
Who took the Bear by the nose immediatly ;
To see them so forward Hugh Pollard did smile
Who had an old Curr of Canary Oyl,
And held up his head that George Goring might see,
Who then cryed aloud, To mee, boys to ma 1
Tis pleasure to drink among these men
For they have witt and valour good store,
They all can handle a sword and a pen
Can court a lady and tickle a whore,
And in the middle of all their wine,
Discourse of Flato, and Arretine.
And when the health corns fall-down on their knees,
And hee that wants, cry, to me boys to mee
Cornwallais was set in an upper room
With halfe a duzzen smal witts of his size '.
He sent twice or thrice to have him come down,
But they would admitt him in no manner wise
Though, in a full bowle of Rhenish he swear,
Hee'd never tell more, when woemen were there,
But they all cry'd alou'd his tongue is too firee
He is not company for such as wee.
136 Wit Restor'd.
The Answer,
By Mr. Peter Apsley.
T Though Murray be, undoubtedlie.
His countrey's cheifest wit ;
And none but those converse with him
Are held companions fitt :
Yett I do know som Holland blades
Shall vie witth him for it, hey downe, ho downe
Hay downe downe deny dery downe !
Thinke not all praises due,
For some that buff do weare
Can whore and rore and sweare
And drink and talke and fight as well as youu
Your Weniwarth and your Weston
Your Stradling and your Tred,
I know they are as joviall boys
As evCT Taveme bred
And can somtimes like souldiers live
A weeke without a bedd, hey doune &c.
George General! of Guenifrieds
He is a joviall Lad ;
Though his Heart and Fortunes disagree
Oft times to make him sad :
Yet give him but a flout or two
And strait you'l swear hees mad : Hey downe, &c.
Wit Restored. 1 37
There's Sydenham Crofts and Kelligrew
Must not be left behind
And that old snjooth-fac'd Epicure
They call him Harry Wind
For if you do discourse with him
Such company you'l finde : hey downe, &c.
There's little Geofrey Peeters,
As good as any of those
If hee'd leave his preventing way
Of abusing his great nose
Hee's witt and Poett good enough
That hee can pawne his cloathes : hey downe, &c.
There is a jovial! Parson
Who to these men doth preach :
On the week days he does learn of them,
And on Sundays does them teach.
Of books and of good company
Hee takes his share of each, hey down ho down.
Hey down down dery dery down !
Thinke not all prayses due
For if he did not weare
A gowne hee'd roare ajid sweare
And drink and talke and fight as well as you.
138 WitRestord.
^JV* ^fl^ ^JV* ^JV ^iV ^i^ ^1^ ^fl^ '\d^ '\£^ ^JB^ ^JV '^J^^ '\fl^ %C^ '^C^'
7)^^ Bursse of Reformation.
WE wil go no more to the old Exchang,
Theres no good ware at all ;
Their bodkins and their thimbles too
Went long since to Guild-hall.
But we will to the new Exchange
Where all things are in fashion
And we will have it hence forth call'd
The Burse of reformation.
Come lads and lasses, what do you lack
Here is weare of all prizes
Here's long & short j heres wide & straight ;
Here are things of all sizes.
Madam, you may fitt your selfe
With all sorts of good pinns.
Sirs, here is jett and here is hayre.
Gold and cornelian rings,
Here is an enghsh conny furr,
Rushia hath no such stuff.
Which for to keep your fingers warme,
Excells your sables muffe.
come ladds, &c.
Wit Restored. 139
Pray you Madam sitt, ile shew good ware
For crowding nere fear that,
Against a stall or on a stool
Youl nere hurt a crevatt.
Hears childrens bawbles and mens too,
To play with for delight.
Heer's round-heads when turn'd every way
At length will stand upright.
Come ladds, &c.
Heer's dice, and boxes if you please
To play at in and inn,
Heers homes for brows, & browes for homes.
Which never will be seen.
Heer is a sett of kettle pinns
With bowle at them to rowle :
And if you Uke such trundling sport
Here is my ladyes hole.
Come ladds, &c.
Heer's shaddow ribbon'd of all sorts.
As various as your mind,
And heer's a Wind-mill like your selfe
Will tume with every wind.
And heer's a church of the same stuff
Cutt out in the new fashion.
Hard by's a priest stands twice a day
Will serve your congregation.
Come ladds, &c.
I40 Wit Restord.
Heer are som presbyterian things,
Falne lately out of fashion,
Because we hear that Prester John
Doth circumcize his nation.
And heer are independant knacks,
Rais'd with his spirits humor.
And heer's cheap ware was sequestred.
For a malignant tumor. Come ladds, &c.
Heer patches are of every cut,
For pimples and for scarrs,
Here's all the wandring planett signes.
And som oth' fixed Starrs,
Already gum'd to make them stick,
They need no other sky,
Nor Starrs for Lilly for to vew
To tell your fortunes by,
Come ladds, &c.
To eject Powder in your hayre.
Here is a pritty puff ;
Would for cUster case serve too;
Were it fil'd with such stuffe.
Madam, here are Pistachie nutts.
Strengthening Oringo roots ;
And heea's a preserv'd Apricock
With the stones pendant too't
Com Lads, &c.
Wit Restored. 141
Here are Perriwiggs will fit all Hayres,
False beards for adisguise ;
I can help lasses which are bare
In all parts, as their thighs.
If you'l engage well, here you may
Take up fine Holland Smocks.
We have all things that women want
Except Italian Locks,
Come Ladds, &c.
Here are hot Boyes have backs like bulls,
At first sight can leap lasses ;
And bearded Ladds hold out like goats :
And here are some like Asses.
Here are Gallants can out-do
Your Usher or your Page ;
You need not go to Ludgate more
Till threescore yeares of age.
Come Ladds, &c.
Madam, here is a Politicus
Was Pragmaticus of late.
And here is an Elentichus
That Fallacies doth prate :
Here is the Intelligencer too,
See how 'bout him they throng !
Whilst MelanchoUicus a lone
Walks here to make this song.
Com Ladds, &c.
142 Wit Restord.
Then lett's no more to the Old Exchange
There's no good ware at all,
Their Bodkins, and their Thimbles too,
Went long since to Guild-Hall.
But we will to the New Exchange
Where all things are in Fashion,
And we will have it henceforth call'd.
The Burse of Reformation.
Come Ladds, and Lasses, what do you lack ?
Here is ware of all prizes ;
Here's long and short, here's wide and straight,
here are things of all sizes.
The Answer.
WE will go no more to the new Exchange
Their Credit's like to fall,
Their Money and their Loyalty
Is gone to Goldsmith's Hall.
But we will keep our Old Exchange,
Where wealth is still in Fashion,
Gold Chaines and Ruffes shalt beare the Bell,
For all your Reformation.
Look on our Walls and Pillars too
You'l find us much the sounder :
Sir Thomas Gresham stands upright
But Crook-back was your founder.
Wit Restored. 143
There you have poynts and pinns and rings,
With such hke toyes as those,
There Patches Gloves and Ribons gay,
And O our money goes.
But when a Fammily is sunck,
And Titles are a fading,
Some Merchant's daughter setts you up,
Thus great ones lives by trading.
Look, &c.
Marke the Nobility throughout,
Moderne and Antient too,
You'l see what power the Citty had
And how much it could do.
Not many houses you'l observe
Of honour true or seeming,
But have received from the Burse
Creation or redeeming.
Look, &c.
Our wonted meetings are at twelve,
Which all the world approves,
But you keep off till candle-time.
To make your secret Loves.
Then you come flocking in a maine
Like birds of the same feather,
Or beasts repayring to the Arke
Uncleane and cleane together.
Look, &c,
144 ^''■i Kestor'd.
Wee strike a bargaine on the Exchange,
But make it good else where,
And your procedings are alike
Though not so good I fear.
For your commodities are naught,
How ever you may prize them.
Then comers and dark holes are sought,
The better to disguize them,
Locke, &c.
We walke ore cellars richly fill'd,
With spices of each kind,
You have a Taveme underneath.
And so you'r undermin'd.
If such a building long endure
All sober men may wonder.
When giddy and light heads prevaile,
Both above ground and under.
Look, &c.
Wee have an Office, to ensure
Our shipps and goods at sea :
No tempest, rock, or pyrat, can
Deprive us of that plea.
But if your Ladies spring a leake
Or boarded be and taken ;
Who shall secure your CapitoU
And save your heads from aking !
Look, &c.
Wii Redff/d. 145
Then wee'l go no more to the new Eexchange
Their credit's like to fall,
Their money and their loyalty,
Is gone to Gold-smiths halL
But wee will keep our old eicchunge,
Where wealth is still in fashion,.
Gold chaines and ruffs shall bear the bell,
For all your reformation.
Look on our walls and pillars too,
You'l jfinde us much the sounder :
Sir Thomas Gresham stands upright,
But Crook-back was your founder.
On S. W. S. and t. P.
Shee that admires her servant*^s' i&ce,
His stature, limbs, or haire,
Does not conceive the modeme waies
Of Ladies, wise and faire.
Hee's but short,
Care not for't,
There be tall ones enough.
Though his head
Bee all redd.
Let his coyne bee so too.
What though his nose turn© in and out
With passage wide and large,
Not much unlike a rainy spout.
His humors to discharge,
VOL. I. L
146' Wii Restord.
Though his back,
Weare a pack
Tis a toy among friends,
So by hook.
Or by crook,
We may compasse our ends.
'Tis not your witt nor language charme,
That takes a femall eare
A paire of pendants worth a farme
Are held more welcom there.
You abuse
Your poor muse.
When you write us fine fancies ;
For no love
Can improve
" Without suppers or daunces.
God dam-mee is a good conceit,
If they who sweare present us ;
For that's your only taking baite
Words nere can circumvent us.
There belongs
More then songs
To a necklace or gown,
When your plays
And essays
May be had for a crown.
Wit Restor'd. 147
f^A^ ^B^ ^fl^ "W* 'X^' ^T^' '^JV "^C^^ ^1^^ *yv* *\(V* ^ilV* ^iV ^iV 'yv* "vv*
The Tytre-Tues, or A Mock-Songe
to the tune «/■ Chive-Chase.
By Mr George Chambers.
TWo madcaps were committed late,
For treason, as some say ;
It was the wisdom of the State,
Admire it all you may.
Brave Andrew Windsor was the prince
George Chambers favorite.
These two bred this unknowne offence
I wo'd they had bine be
They call themselves the Tytere-tues
And wore a blew Rib bin.
And when a drie, would not refuse.
To drink ^O fearefull sinn !
The Councell, which is thought most wise.
Did sett so long upon't,
That they grew wearie, and did rise,
And could make nothing on't.
But still, the common people cri'd.
This must not be forgot ;
Some had for smaller matters di'd
They'd don wee know not what :
L 2
148 WitRestord.
Hang'd, drawne, and quarter'd, must they be,
So Law doth sett it downe,
It's punishment for papistrie
That are of high renowne.
My Lord of Canterburies grace
This treason brought to light
El's had it bin a pitious case
But that his power and might
Had queld their pride which swell'd to high j
For which the child ungot
May with him live e'ne till hee die
As silie sheepe that rott.
Let Papist frowne what need wee care •
Hee lives above their reach :
And will his silver Mitre weare
Though now forgot to preach.
If hee were but behind mee now,
And should this ballad heare ;
Sure he'd revenge with bended bow
And I die like, a Deere-
1"^Here dwelt a man, in faire Westmerlmd
lonne Armestrong men did him call,
He had nither lands nor rents coming in,,
Yet he kept eight score men in his hall.
JVm Restoi^d. 149
He had Horse and Harness for them all,
Goodly Steeds were all milke white,
the golden bands an about their necks ;
And their weapons they were all alike.
Newes then was brought unto the King,
That there was sicke a won as hee.
That lived syke a bold out-Law
And robbed all the north countiy.
The King he writt an a letter then
A letter which was large and long.
He signed it with his owne hand,
And he promised to doe him, no wrong ;
When this letter cam6 lonne untill.
His heart it was as blyth as birds on the tree,
Never was I sent for before any King
My father, my Grandfa,ther, nor none but mee.
And if wee goe the King before,
1 would we went most orderly.
Every man of you shall have his scarlet cloak
Laced with silver laces three.
Every won of you shall have his velvett coat
Laced with sillver lace so white,
O the golden bands an about your neck's
Black hatts, white feathers, all alyke.
1 50 Wit Restored.
By the morrow mominge at ten of the clock
Towards Edenburough gon was hee
And with him all his eight score men,
Good lord it was a goodly sight for to see.
When lonne came befower the King
He fell downe on his knee,
O pardon my Soveraine Leige, he said
O pardon my eight score men and mee.
Thou shalt have no pardon, thou traytor strong
For thy eight score men nor thee
For to morrow morning by ten of the clock.
Both thou and them shall hang on the gallow tree.
But lonne looke'd over his left shoulder
Good Lord what a grevious look looked hee ;
Saying asking grace of a graceles face,
Why there is none for you nor me.
But lonne had a bright sword by his side,
And it was made of the mettle so Free,
That had not the king stept his foot aside
He had smitten his head from his faire bodde.
Saying, fight on my merry men all.
And see that none of you be taine,
For rather then men shall say we were hange'd
Let them report how we were slaine.
Wit Restord. 151
Then god wott faire Eddenburrough ros6
And so besett poore lonne rounde
That fowerscore and tenn of lonnes best men
Lay gasping all upon the ground.
Then like a mad man lonne laide about,
And like a mad man then fought hee,
Untill a fake Scot came lonne behinde,
And runn him through the faire boddee,
Saying, Fight on my merry men all,
And see that none of you be taine,
For I will stand by and bleed but a while,
And then will I come and fight againe.
Newes then was brought to young lonne Armestrcng.
As he stood by his nurses knee.
Who vowed if er'e he live'd for to be a man,
0th' the treacherous Scots reveng'd hee'd be.
By Mr. Richard Barnslay.
FAme told mee. Lady, your fayr hands would make
A willow garland for me ; O forsake
That dismall office, it do's not agree
With those sweet looks, that fair aspect in thee.
Fayrest of women, canst thou bee my friend ?
And with thine owne hand hasten on my end?
1 52 Wii Restord.
If I must loose thee, let mee loose thee so
As not to bee my utter overthrow.
Time lessons sorrow, we endure our crosses,
And happier fortunes may redeem our losses,
But if I wear one branch of that sad tree,
I shall remember it eternally.
What prize I lost ; and then in some sad grove
Of discontent, where fearfuU ghosts doe rove
Of the forsaken lovers, there I'le bee
And only they shall keep mee company.
Untill these eyes, in some unpoUish'd cave
Running like fountaines, weare mee forth a grave.
And then I'le dye, yet first I will curse thee
Damned, unlucky, fruitlesse willow-tree
Still mayest thou withered stand, mayst neVr bee seen
Clad in sweet summers pride, may'st nev'r growgreene;
May every bryer, and every bramble bee,
Like a full Cedar, or huge Oake to thee :
And when some cankerd axe shall hewe thee down,
Come never neerer citty, house or towne.
But bee thou bumd, yet never mayst thou bee
A Christmas block for joviall company.
But bee thou placed neare some ugly ditch
To bume some murderer, or damned witch.
Cast away Willow, Lady, then, and choose.
Dog-tree, or hemlock, or the mornfull yewes
Torne from some church-yard side, the cursed thome
Or else the weed, which still before it's borne
Nine times the devill sees ; if you command
He weare them all, compos'd by your fayre hand
Wit Restored. 153
So that you'l grant mee, that I may goe free
From the sad branches of the willowe tree.
Ad Johannuelem Leporem,
Lepidissimum, Carmen Heroicum.
I Sing the furious battails of the Sphseres
Acted in eight and twenty fathom deep,
And from that {a) time, reckon so many yeares
You'l find {S) Endimion fell fast asleep.
(a) There began the Vtopian accompt of years, Mor: Lib. i. circa
Unern.
(d) Endimion ■v!2is a handsome young Welshman, whom one Luce
Moone lov'd for his sweet breath ; and would never hang off his lips :
but he not caring for her, eat a bundance of toasted cheese, purposely
to make his breath unsavory ; upon which, she left him presently,
and ever since 'tis proverbially spoken [as inconstant as Luce Moone.'\
The Vatican coppy of Hesiod, reades her name, Mohan, but contract-
edly it is Moone. Hesiod. lib. 4. torn. 3'.
And now assist me O ye {c) Musiques nine
That tell the Orbs in order as they fight,
And thou dread {d) Atlas with thine eyes so fine,
Smile on me now that first begin to write.
(c) For all the Orbes make Musick in their motion, Berosus de
spJuera. lib. 3.
(d) Atlas was a Porter in Mauritania, and because by reason of his
strength, he bore burthens of stupendious weight, the Poets fain'd,
that he carried the Heavens on his shoulders. Cicero, de nat. Deorum.
lib. 7.
154 WitRestord.
{e) Pompey that once was Tapster of New-Inne,
And fought with (/) Ccesar on th' {g) ^mathian plaines,
First with his dreadfull (§) Myrmidons came in
And let them blood in the Hepatick veines.
(e) There were two others of these names, Aldermen of Rome. Tit'.
Liu. hist. lib. 28.
(/) jSmathia, is a very faire Common in Northamptonshire, Straho.
lib. 321.
(g) These Myrmidons were Cornish-men, and sent by Bladud, some-
times King of this Realme, to ayd Pompey. Casar de bello. civili.
lib. 14.
But then an Antelope in Sable blew,
Clad like the {fi) Prince of Aurange in his Cloke,
Studded with Satyres, on his Army drew,
And presently [i) Pheanders Army broke.
(K) It seemes not to be meant by Count Henry, but his brother
Maurice, by comparing his picture to the thing here spoken of. yansen.
de prad. lib. 22.
(/) Pheander was so modest, that he was called the Maiden Knight ;
and yet so valiant, that a French Cavaleer wrote his life, and called his
Book, Pheander ihe. Maiden Knight. Hon. d'Vrfee. Tom. 45.
(k) Philip, for hardiness sirnamed Chub,
In Beauty equall to fork-bearing (/) Bacchus,
(k) This seemes not to be that King, that was Son of Amintas, and
King of Macedon ; but one who it seems was very lascivious : for I
suspect there is some obscsene conceit in that word Club in the third
verse following ; besides, marke his violence.
(/) Bacchus, was a drunken yeoman of the Guard to Queen Elizabeth,
5.nd a great Archer ; so that it seemes the Authour mistooke his halbert,
for a forke.
. Wit Res tor' d. 155
Made such a thrust at {m) Fhcebe, with his Club,
That made the («) Parthians cry, she' will becack us.
(»z) This was Long-Megg of Westminster, who after this conflict
with Phillip, followed liim in all his warres. yustinian. lib. 35.
(«) These were Lancashire-men, and sent by King Gorbadug (for
this war seemes to have been in the time of the Heptarchy in England)
to the aide of C(Esar. Ccesar. lib. citat. propefinem.
Which heard, the Ddphick Oracle drew nigh,
To wipe faire Phabe, if ought were amiss.
But (p) Heliotrope, a little crafty spye,
Cry'd clouts were needless, for she did but piss
{0) And therefore, the herb into which he was turned, was called
Turnsole. Ovid, Metam. lib. 25.
A subtle Gloworme lying in a hedge
And heard the story of sweet cheek't (/) Appollo,
Snatch'd from bright (g) Styropes his Antick sledge
And to the butter'd Flownders cry'd out, (r) Holla.
(p) Appollo, was Casars Page, and a Monomatapan by birth, whose
name by inversion was Ollopa : which in the old language of that
Country, signifies as much as faire youth : but, Euphoniis Gratia,
called Apollo, Gor. Bee. lib. 46.
(q) Styropes, was a lame Smiths-man dwelling in S. Johns-street ;
but how he was called Bright, I know not, except it were by reason of
the Luster of his eyes.
(r) Holla, mistaken for Apollo.
Holla you pamper'd Jades, quoth he, look here,
And mounting straight upon a Lobsters thigh
156 WitRestord.
An English man inflam'd with (s) double Beere,
Swore nev'r to {t) drink to Man, a Woman by.
\s) Cervisia (apud Medicos, vinum hordeaceum) potus est Anglis longi
charissimus ; Jmientum Ferrarij Londinen^is, Cui nomen Smuggo.
Polydor. Virgil, de Invent, rerum. lib. 2.
(t) Impp, Germanice, afCtiquitus soUbant, statis temporibus, adire Bo-
singstochium ; ubi, de more, yusjurandum solenne prastabant, de non
viro propinando, prcesente muliere : Hie Mos, jamdudum apud Anglos,
pene vim legis obtinuit ; quippe gens ilia, longe humanissima morem
isium, in hodiernum usque diem, magna Curiositate, pari Comitate
conjuncta, usurpant. Pancirol — utriusque imperij. lib. 6. cap. 5,
By this time grew the conflict to be («) hot,
Boots against boots 'gainst (x) Sandals, Sandals, fly.
Many poor thirsty men went to the pot,
Feathers lopt off, spurrs every where did lie.
Catera desiderantur.
(«) It seemes this was a great battail, both by the furie of it, & the
aydes of each side; but hereof read more, in Cornel. Tacit, lib. de
moribus German.
{x) This is an imitation oi Lucan
Signis Signa, &= pHa &'c.
Pharsalia. lib. 1. in pirincipio.
Wit Restord. 157
BagnalVs Ballet, supplied of what was. left
out in Musariim Deliciae..
A Ballet, a ballet 1 let every Poet,
A ballett make with speed :
And he that has wit, now let. him. shew it ;_-
For never was greater need.:..
And I that never made ballett before ;
Will make one now, though. I nev,er make; more.
Oh Women, monstrous womeny
What do you meane ta dof /
It is their pride and, Strang^' attire.
Which binds me toi this, taske;
Which King,, and, Courtj did much, afhair^^
At the last Christmas maske,
But by your entertainment then,.
You should have smal cause to come there agen.
Oh Women, &•€.,
You cannot bee contiented togo^
As did the women of old j.
But you are all for pride and show,
As they were for weather and cold,,
Women, women I fie, fie, fie,.
1 wonder you are not ashamed*.
O Women, ^c.
158 Wit Restored.
Where is the decency becom,
Which your fore-mothers had ?
With Gowns of Cloth, and Capps of Thrum,
They went full meanly cladd.
But you must jett it in silkes and gold ;
Your pride, though in winter, is never a cold.
O Women, &=€.
Your faces trick'd and painted bee,
Your breasts all open bare :
So farr that a man may almost see
Unto your Lady ware :
And in the church, to tell you true,
Men cannot serve God for looking on you.
O Women, &=€.
And at the Devills shopps you buy,
A dresse of powdered hayre.
On which your feathers flaunt and fly,
But i'de wish you have a care,
Lest Lucifer's selfe who is not prouder
Do one day dresse up your haire with a powder.
O Women, &=€.
And many there are of those that go
Attyr'd from head to heele,
That them from men you cannot know
Unlesse you do them feele,
But oh for shame though they have none,
Tis better believe, and let them alone,
O Women, &c.
Wit Restord. 159
Both round and short they cut their hayre
Whose length should women grace,
Loose like themselves, their hatts they weare.
And when they come in place,
Where courtshipp and complements must bee,
They do it Uke men with cappe and knee.
O Women, &c.
They at their sides against our laws,
With little punyards go.
Which surely is, (I thinke) because.
They love mens weapons so ;
Or else it is they'le stobb all men.
That do refuse to stabb them agen.
O Women, &c.
Doublets like to men they weare.
As if they ment to flout us.
Trust round with poynts and ribbons fayre,
But I pray letts look about us ;
For since the doublett so well doth fitt 'um.
They will have the breeches ; and if they can get 'um.
O Women, &c.
Nor do they care what a wise man saith.
Or preachers in their defame.
But jeer and hold him an asse ; but I faith
They'd blush if they had any shame :
For citty and countrey do both deride 'um
And our King, God blesse him, cannot abide 'um.
Women, &c.
i6o Wit Restored.
And when the mask was at the court,
Before the King to be showne,
They got upon seats to see the sport,
But soon they were puU'd down ;
And many were thrust out of dores,
Their coats well cudgel'd, & they cal'd whores.
O King, Relligious King,
God save thy Majestie.
And so with prayers to God on high,
To grant his highnesse peaces
Wee hope we shall finde remedie
To make this mischiefe. cease :
Since he in Court, has tane so good order,.
The citty leave to the Maior and Recorder,
O King, Relligious King,
God blesse My majestie.
And women all whom this concerns,.
Though you offended bee ;
And now in foule and ra-yling tearms
Do swagger and scold at mee ;
I tell you, if you mend not your waies
The devil will fetch you all, one of these days,
Oh Women monstrous Women t
What do you mean to do ?
Wit Res tor' d. 1 6 1
Mr. Smith, to Sir John Mennis,
upon the surrender of Conway Castle by the
Ar, B Y.
ANd how ? and how ? hast thou cry'd quittance
With Mountaine, Bishop, and his Brittaines
Who after all his changes, had
Yet one trick more, to make John mad ?
Hadst thou, for this, charge of the Keyes
Old as the Castle ? and the payes
Of Men unbome ? that never took
A name, but from thy Muster-Book ?
Hast thou been honour'd with the knee
Of the Time-aged-Porter ? Hee
Who after reverence, humbly sate
Below the Salt, and munch'd his Sprat,
And after all this to be vex't
Past sufferance, by a Man o'th 'Text !
Well ! now thou'rt come in sight of Pauls,
Hast thou compounded for thy Coales
And swallowed glib in hope to thrive,
The Covenant, and Oath Negative
With hand lift up, like those that are
Indicted for less crimes at Barre ?
Beleeve me, friend, it is a Burden
Worse then a close-stoole with a Turd in.
Yet if from Brittish rocks th' hast brought
A heard of Goats, or Runts, or ought
VOL. I. M
1 62 Wii Restored.
That Country yeilds ; Flannel, Camoggins,
Store of Metheglin in thy Waggons ;
Less needst thou dwindle to appeare Man
At Goldsmiths-HaHhtloT^ the Chaire-man :
Or if th'ast plundered Pedlars-pack
And tniss'd it on thy knightly back,
Rich in Box-whistles, combs in cases,
Tape white and blue, points, inkle, laces,
'T may satisfye those hungry Kings ; _ ;
They'l hang thee else in thine own strings.
And now I call to mind the tale,
How mounted in thy nights of ale
Thou rod'st home duely to thy Den
On back ,of resty Cittizen,
Still pressing as the cattle grew
Weary, at every stage, a new :
Some thorough-pac'd,. and sure of foot
Some tripping, with string-halt to boot,
Now 'tis their time, and thou art ore-
Ridden by them, thou roadst before.
So have I seen the flyes in Summer,
Yellow as was the neighbouring scummer.
With shambling thighs, each other back
By turns, and traverse o're the rack.
Ah ! worthy friend, it makes me mad
To count the dayes, that we have had ;
When we might freely meet and drink
And each man speak what he did think.
Now every step we doubt, and word
As men to passe some unknown fgr'd.
Wit Restored. 163
As Patridges devide their way
When stoop'd at by the Birds of prey,
And dare not from their coverts peep
Till night's come on, and all's asleep,
Then from their severaljjljr^kes they hast,
And call together to repast.
So frighted by these buzzards, flye
Our scattered friends, and sculking lye
Till cover'd in the night, they chant
And call each other to the hant,
Some trusty TavemC) where- in bowles
They drown their feares, & chirp poore souls,
What sad plight are we in ? what pickles ?
That we must drink- in conventicles,? -
Search all the Centuries; there's none
Like this fell Persecution ;
But when Time sorts, do but but command.
At noon I'le meet thee, here^s my hand.
I.S.
Dated,
Prom house of Knight> in NymptonrRe^,: \
Where one drinks, and another pledges,j ,,
I meane at meales, the day is Jack,
The 15 of the month that's black, . :
Forty eight yeareSj and sixteen hundred
Since that of Grace, away are squandred,
And since Parliatnent begon
(I hope you'l not forget HasXjohn)
Nothing remaines, but that I say,
Good morrow ; that's the time o'th day.
M 2
1 64 Wif Restored.
An answer to a Letter from Sr. John
Mennis, wherein he jeeres him for
falling so quickly ta the use of the
Directory.
FRiend, thou dost lash me with a story,
A long one too, of Directory ;
When thou alone deserves the Birch
That broughtst the bondage on the Church.
Didst thou not treat for Bristow Citty
And yeld it up ? the more's the pitty.
And s^-v/st thou not, how right or wrong
The common prayer-book went along ?
Didst thou not scourse, as if inchanted,
For Articles Sir Thopias granted,
And barter, as an Author saith.
The Articles o'th' Christian faith ?
And now the Diirectory' jostles
Christ out o'th' Church, and his Apostles ;
And tears down the commnion-rayles
That Men may take it on their tayles.
Imagine freind, Bochus the King,
Engraven on Sylla's Signet ring.
Delivering up into his hands
Fugurth, and with him all his Lands,
Whom Sylla tooke and sent to Rome
There to abide the Senate's doome,
Wit Restored. 165
In the same posture, I suppose,
lohn standing in's doublet and hose,
DeUvering up, amidst the throng,
The common-prayer and wisedom's song
To hands of Fairfax to be sent
A sacrifice to the Parliament :
Thou litle thoughtst what geare began
Wrap't in that Treaty, Busie lohn,
There lurk'd the fire, that turn'd to cinder
The Church ; her ornaments to tinder.
There bound up in that Treaty lyes
The fate of all our Christmas pyes,
Our holy-dayes there went to wrack
Our Wakes were layd upon their back ;
Our Gossips spoones away were lurch'd
Our feasts and fees for woemen church'd.
All this and more ascribe we might
To thee at Brktow, wretched knight.
Yet thou upbraidst, and raylst in rime
On me, for that, which was thy crime,
So froward Children in the Sun,
Amid' their sports some shrewd tume donne
The faulty youth begins to prate.
And layes it on his harmlesse mate,
Dated
From Nympton where the Cyder smiles
And lames has horse as lame as Gyles
The fourth of May; and dost thou heare,.
'Tis as I. take it, .the eighth yeare
1 66 . Wit Restored.
Since PorttigaU by Duke Braganza
Was cut from ^««w without a hand-saw.
I.S.
itff 'ttTTfr ^fe^fe^jic '^Tf ^yr '^to*iitr *tHr 'dir tjIt 'tilfr ijir itiltp ife* ife* 't|¥' Tft; i^r tinup
HB3BSSSSS2SBS8SB3SSBaB9eSBSBaBSeaBSSSB3BSBaB^
Mr. Stnith's takirig a Purge.
IN mome whfen Phmbus peep't through crevis,
Bold as our Brittish Guy or Bevis
I powder took, arid by his beams
Befreinded,-toade a dtaughtfory«?»zia.
Long had it tiOt in stomack been
But from each part, came powdling in
Of uncouth gear such pregnant store
That gutt ""gan grumble, nock runne ore.
Have yee beheld with eager haste
The trewant Citts when scene is past,
(As if they meant their ribs to burst
"While each beares up to get out first)
Cloy up the doore, till passage small
Into one body rammes 'em all,
And then in steed of men and witt
Delivers up a lumpe of citt
With no lesse fiuie in a throng
Away these tachie humors flung,
And downwards in a rage they drew
To ramble, and bid nock adieu :
But when they came to portall nastie
Bumme was so straite,' and they so hastie.
Wit Res toy' d. 167
That many a worthy pellett must
Into one Booming shott bee thrust,
At rumbling noyse the mastive growles
The frighted mice forsake their holes,
And Souldiers to my window come
Invited thither by my dram,
Tire'd with this hideous coyle behinde
Nocke layd a bout him hard for winde,
Hee chaf d, and fom'd, as buck embo'st.
And painted like a toad that's tost.
At length he gaind a litle tyme,
And cleard his Organ from the slime ;
Pale was his look, (for to be blunt),
Arse could not sett a good face on't.
But yet hee strove with visage wan
To vent himselfe ; and thus began.
Oh dismall Dose ! oh cursed geere !
WiU all thy body runne out here ?
Will vaynes, and sinnews, flesh, and bone
Be gadding, and leave nock alone ?
Is it decreed, oh crewell fates !
So Mindus at her citty gates
As was suspected there about
Some time or other might runne out,
A Divell sure bak't, and stale
Was grated in my posset-ale,
Or else ,'twas powder of the bones
Of some foote souldier dead for the nonce,
For all the way he travailes North
Through stomack, belly, and so forth.
1 68 Wit Restord.
Some what he seizes in each towne.
And take's it with him as his owne ;
Well, what so ere thou wer't, be sure
Thy vengeance 'ile no more indure,
Nor shall the head or stomack put
More then is fitting into gutt.
Why could not nostrells, eyes, or eare,
By milde expences vent you there ?
Or vomitt, by a neerer way.
Discharge what in the stomak lay ?
Or i'st not justice they that pas'd
The pleasure, should the bitter taste ?
Can you accuse mee ? ever came
Ought in by me did body blame ?
Unlesse your keeping ope my doore
Drew wind, to make the fabrick roare ;
I was contented once a day
While you were temperate, to obay.
But he is cur'st that's forc't to stand
All the day long with hose in hand.
Nor was the spincter muscle put
At every tume to ope and shut,
But there to stand, and notice take
Who pass'd, and when, and for whose sake.
Therefore bee warn'd keepe better dyet
That all of us may live at quiett.
Or ile stopp up the abuse'd course
And send up fumes will make you worse
And you (as Mayerne doth) they say
Divert the vent another way,
, Wit Restored. 169
Then spight of physick, in a word,
I'le make your palate tast a tpurd,
And when you belch I'le turne the sent
To perfect smell of fundament.
f^« %f^ <\p^ f^g^ rjy* (^jv* *^y '^jy* •^A^ ')jQ/* ')£/* "w ^c^* ^fl^ 'w '^l(v
Tke Miller and the King's Daughter,
By Mr. Smith.
THere were two Sisters they went a playing,
With a hie downe, downe, a downe-a-.
To see their fathers ships come sayling in
With a hy downe, downe, a downe-o-
And when they came unto the sea-brym,
With, d^c,
The elder did push the younger in ;
With, 6f-c.
O Sister, O Sister, take me by the gowne^
With, 6^c,
And drawe me up upon the dry ground,
With, 6-<r.
O Sister, O Sister, that may not bee,
With, (S^iT.
Till salt and gatmeale grow both of a tree ;
With, 6^^.
1 70 Wit Restored.
Somtymes she sanke, Somtymes she swam,
With, <Snc.
XJntill she came unto the mil-dam ;
With, &-C.
The miller ruime hastily downe the cliflfe,
With dfc, '
And up he betook her withouten her life,
With, &-C.
What did he doe with her brest bone ?
With,&'c. '
He made him a viall to play thereupon,
With, ^'c.
What did he doe witji her fingers so small ?
With, &'c.
He made him peggs to his Violl withall ;
With, &'c.
What did he doe with her nose-ridge ?
With, 6-<r.
Unto his Violl he made him a bridge,
With, &'c.
What did he do with her Veynes so blewe ?
with, &•€.
He made him strings to his Viole thereto j
with, &'/:.
, Wit Restored. 171
What (}id he doe with, her eyes so bright?
■with, S^c.
Upon his Violl he playd at first sight ;
with, dr'c.
What did he doe with her tongue soe rough ?
with, &•(.
Unto the vibll it spake enough ;
with, di^c.
What did he doe with her two shinnes ?
with, d^f.'
Uhto the violl they danc't MdH Syms;
with, &c.
Then bespake the treble string,
with, &c.
b yonder is my father the King ;
with, &c.
Then bespake the second string,
with &c
O yonder sitts my mother the Queen :
with, &c.
And then bespake the stringes all three ;
with. Sec.
O yonder is my sister that drowned mee
with, &c.
172 Wit Restored.
■ Now pay the miller for his payne,
with, &c.
And let him bee gone in the divels name.
with, &c.
Mr. Smith, to Tom Pollard, and
Mr. Mering..
MY hearty commendations first remembred
To Tom, &. RobUn tall men, and well timberd
Hoping of both your welfares, and your blisse
Such as my selfe enjoy'd when I wrote this ;
These are to let you understand and know,
That love will creepe there where it cannot go
And that each morning I doe drink your healths
After our Generalls, & the Commonwealths ;
For nothing is more fatall then disorder
Especially now Leslfs on the Border ;
That done we gather into Rankes and files.
That a farre off we look like greeat wood piles ;
And then we practise over all our knacks
With as much ease as men make Almanacks,
Size all our buUetts to a dram, we hate
To kill a foe with waste unto the State,
And, for our carriage heere, it hath been such
Declar't I cannot, but He give a touch :
Here is noe outrage done, not one that Robbs
Perhaps you think it strange Tom, so does Nobbs
Wit Res tor' d. i ']'iy
But tis as true as Steele, for on niy word ;
Their worst is drinking Ale, browne as their sword.
But harke Xhtjiendes are come close to Carlile,
Lidsdale is cope't with Rebell-Scotts the while
To us they send for helpe, the postboy skudds ;
And secures his pallfrie in his propper Sudds,
More I could write deare friends, but bad's the weather
And time's as precious as you both to gether.
But take not this unkindely ; I professe
There's no man more your servant then / S.
Newcastle where the drouth has been
That makes grasse short, and gelding thin :
luly the fifth I wrote this letter
One thousand six hunderd, & somewhat better.
*\^u* *\^ %n^ 9^^ 9^R^ *yj^ rtj^ *^y f\jy *\^' '\JV* %n»'" *ycw •>A(* 'yV •^A'•
Vpon lohn Fel ton's hanging in Chaines at
Ports-mouth, for killing the
Duke of Buckingham.
HEre uninterd suspends (though not to save
Surviving friends the expences of a grave
Felton's dead earth, which to the world must bee
His own sad monument, his Elegye
As large as fame, but whither bad or good
I say not, by himself 'twas writ in blood
For with his body thus entomb'd in ayre
Arch't o're with Heaven, set with thousand faire
1 74 Wit Resto^d.
And glorious Diamond-starrs ; a Sepulcher
Which time can never ruinate, and where
Th'impartiall worme (which is not brib'd to spare
Princes when wrapt in Marble) cannot share
His flesh (which oft the charitable skyes
Embalme with teares doing those obsequies
Belong to men) shall last till pittying foul
Contend to reach his body to his Soule.
To Feltofl in the Tower.
ENjoy thy bondage, make thy prison know,
Thou hast a liberty thou canst not owe
To such base, punishment ; keep't intire, since
Nothing but guilt shackles they conscience.
I dare not tempt thy valiant blood to whey
In feebling it with pitty, nor dare pray ■ •
Thine act may mercy finde, lest thy great story
Lose something of its miracle and glory.
I wish thy merit studied cruelty,
Short vengance befreinds thy memory
For I would have posterity to heare
He that can bravely die can bravely beare.-
Torture seemes great unto a cowkrds eye
'Tis no great thing to suffer, less to dye.
Should all .the clowds fall out, & in that strife
Lightning and thunder send to take my life,
Wi^ Restored. 1 75
I should applaud the wisedome of my fate
That knew to value me at such a rate
As at my fall to trouble all the skie,
Emptying it self upon me Jovesfull Armory ;
Thy soul before was straightned, thank thy doome
To show her vertue she hath larger Roome,
Yet sure if every artery were broke
Thou wouldst finde strength for such another stroke.
And now I leave thee unto death and fame
Which lives to shake arnbition at thy name,
And (if it were no sin) the Court by, it ^, ,
Should hourely sweare before a favorite.
Farwell, for thy beame sake we shall not send
Henceforth Commanders that wil foes defend
Nor will it ever our just Monarch please
To keep an Admirall to loose the Seas.
Farwell, undaunted stand, and joy to be
Of publique sorrow the Epitome,;
Let the Duke's name suifer, and crowne thy thrall
All we in him did suffer j thou for all.
And I dare boldly write, as thou darst dye.
Stout Felton, Englands ransome, here doth lye.
To the Duke of Buckingham.
THe king loves you, you him ; both love the same,
You love the King, he you, both Buck-in-game
Of sport the King loves game, of game the Buck
Of all men you, why you ? Why see your luck.
1 76 Wit Restored.
To the Same.
SOme say, the Duke was vertuous, gratious, good,
And Felton basely did, to spill his bloud.
If it be so, what did he then amiss.
In sending him the sooner to his bliss ?
All deaths seem pleasant to a good-man's Eye
And bad men onely are afraid to dye ;
Chang'd he this Kingdome to possess a better,
Then is the Duke become lohn Felton's debter.
%D^ *^V* *^i/* '^jy* i^jy* f\jy* f^^y ^jy* f^jy *ijy* *^jy* *\jV* '^i* 'vDf "^^^ '^y
The Lawyer.
LAwyers themselves up hold the Common weak,
They punish such as do offend and steale ;
They free with subtill art the innocent.
From any danger, losse, or punishment,
They can, but will not, keep the world in awe
By mis-expounded and distorted lawe ;
Alwayes they have great store of charity,
And love they want, not keeping amitye.
Wit Restored. 177
The Clients Transcription of the same Copy,
having experienced the contrary.
LAwyers themselves uphold the Common-weale
They punish such as do offend and steale.
They free with subtill art the innocent,
From any danger, losse, or punishment ;
They can, but will not keep, the world in awe
By mis-expounded and distorted lawe
Allwayes they have, great store of charity
And love they want, not keeping amitye.
The reverend Canvase,
SO lowd a lye on Sunday rung,
- So thicke a troupe, so grave a thrung.
Assembled in a Church, to laugh.
At nothing ? pardon heavens ; when halfe
Had Gods marke on them ? none so good
To satisfie the hungry croud ;
With holsome doctrine ; none so hardy
With an howers talke to quitt the tardy ?
All silent brethren, and yet none
Can speake by inspiration ?
VOL. I. N
m
178 yvic j:s.esiora.
Dares none so conscious of his merit.
Or presuming on the spent,
With an edifying greeting
Gratulate this zealous meeting ? '
Is this a day or place (O sin !)
For such to have a canvse in ?
Lord ! how we sat like Queene Candae^s
Eunuch, reading each other faces !
Expecting when some Philips heire
Would come to ascend the sacred chaire.
Whilst cousning Miles the bell still knockt
T' increase the number of the mockt ?
But; in conclusion all the cittie
Was bidden to a nunc dimitte, ■
And yet found no man to supply
The office of dumbe Zacharie
In our dismission, till wee tiring
The bell and puUpit both conspiring,
Deprived of- sound, and vesture told us
The tenor onely preacht that calld us ;
Wii Restord. 1 79
A non sequitur, by Dr. Corbett.
MArke how the Lanterns clowd mine eyes
See where a moone drake ginnes to rise
Saturne craules ftiiich like' an Iron Catt,
To see the naked moone in a shppshott hatt,
Thunder thumping toad stooles crock the pots
To see the.Merem'aids tumble
Leather catt-a-mountaines shake their heeles
To heare the gosh-hawke grumble
The rustie ithreed,
Begins to bleed,
And cobwebs-elbows itches
The putrid skyes
Eat mulsacke pies
Backed up in ilogicke brecehes
Munday trenchers make good hay •
The Lobster weares no daggier
Meale-Mouth'd sheet-peacockes powle the starres
And make the lowbell stagger*
Blew Crocodiles foame in the toe
Blind meal-bagges do. follow the^doe
A ribb of apple braine spice-
Will follow the Lancasheire dice •
Harke how the chime oi Plutoes pispot <a-acks,
To see the rainbowes wheele ganne, made of flax.
N 2
i8o Wii Restor'd.
On Oxford Schollers going to Woodstock
to heare Dr. Corh&t preach before the King.
THe King, and the Court
Desirous of sport,
At Woodstock six dayes did lye
Thither came the Doctors
With their velvet sleev'd Proctors,
And the rest of the learned frie.
Some faces did shine
More with ale then with wine ;
So that each man there was thought
And judged by theire hue
(As it was then true).
They were better fed then taught.
A number beside
With their wenches did ride
(For Schollers you know are kind) .
And riding before
Leand back evermore
To kisse their wenches behind.
A number on foot
Without cloak, or boot
And yet to the Court they wou'd
Which was for to show
How farr they wou'd go
To doe his Majesty good.
Wit Restored. i8i
The reverend Deane
With his ruff, starched clean
Did preach before the King
A Ring there was spide
In his band-string tyde
Was not this a pritty thing ?
The Ring without doubt
Was the thing put him out :
So oft hee forgot what was next
That all that were there
Did thinke, and dare sweare,
Hee handled it more then his Text.
•^» '\Af^ '^^ f^Af *\^ *\sy* *\iu* "^^ f^jy f^jy ''^A/* '^jy* *\£u^ *)jv* f^Af* tw*
Horat. 34. Carm. od. 10. ad. Ligurinm.
TIs true (proud boy) thy beauty may presume
Thank Venus for't but when thy cheekes shall plume,
When manly downe shall shade thy Childish pride
And when thy locks (which dangle on each side
Of thy white shoulders) shall no more remain ;
When thy vermilion cheeks (which do disdain,
The glorious colour of the purple rose)
Begin to fade, and Ligarinas loose
His lovely face, being rudely stuck with haires
(Hard hearted boy) then wilt thou say with teares
(When looking for thy faire self in a glass
Thou findest another there) Ah me ! alas !
1 82 WitRestord.
What do I now perceive ? why had not I ?
These thoughts when I was lovely smooth ? or why ?
To these my thoughts which I now entertaine
Doe not my Cheeks grow slik & young again ?
liEr '^iT* '<3kr tiXr iKr liSr Tjtr iSr tiXr liCr iXr iXr iSr iXr iJKr tiiGr ttr iKr tiSr tSr i3r iSr iSr
Z'tf ^«!y Mistris.
I'le tell you whence the rose did first grow red
And whence the lillie whitenesse borrowed
You blnsh't and then the rose with red was dight.
The lillie kist your hands and so came white
Before that time the rose was but a staine
The lillie nought but palenesse did containe
You have the native colour ; these they die
And onely flourish in your Hvery.
Upon a Cobler.
COme hither, read (my gentle freind)
And here behold a Coblers End,
Long in length his life had gone
But that he had no Last so long.
O mighty death whose darts can kill.
The man that made him soules at will.
Wit Restored. 183
On the death of the Lord Treasurer.
IMmodest death, that would, not once confer
Dispose or part with our Lord Treasurer !
Had he beene thee, or of thy fatall tribe,
He would have spar'd thy life, and tane a bribe,
He that so often had with gold and wit,
Perverted law and allmost conjur'd it.
He that could lengthen causes, and was able
To starve a suitor at the councill-table
At last not having Evidence to show
Was faine (perforce) to take a deadly blow.
The lover's Melancholy.
HEnce, hence, all you vaine delights
As short as are the nights
Wherin you spend your folly !
Ther's nought in this life sweet,
ilf men were wise to see't
But only melanchoUy.
Wellcome folded armes, and fixed eyes,
:A sight that pearcing mortifies,
A look that's fastened to the ground,
A tongue chain'd up without a sound,
Fountaines-heades and pathless groves
Places which pale passion loves. »
1 84 WitRestord.
Moone-light walkes when all the fowles
Are warmely hous'd, save Bats and owls ;
A midnight knell, a parting groane,
These are the sounds wee feed upon ;
Then stretch our bones in a still gloomy valley
Ther's nothing truly sweet, but melancholly ;
The answer, by Dr. Stroad.
REtume my joyes and hither bring
A tounge not made to speake, but sing ;
A joUye splene, an inward feast,
A causelesse laugh without a jest ;
A face which gladnesse doth annoint,
An arme for joy flung out of joynt ;
A spritefull gate that leaves no print,
And make a feather of a flint :
A heart that's lighter then the ayre
An eye still dancing in its sphere.
Strong which mirth nothing shall controul
A body nimbler then a soul :
Free wandring thoughts not tied to muse
Which thinking all things, nothing chuse ;
Which ere wee see them come, are gone.
These, life it selfe doth feed upon.
Then take no care but only to be jolly,
To be more wretched then we must, is foil"".
Wit Restored. 185
A Blush.
STay hasty blood ! where canst thou seek
So blest a place as in her cheek ?
How can'st thou from the place retire
Where beauty doth command desire ?
But if thou canst not stay, then show ;
Downe to her painting papps below
Flow like a deluge from her breast
Where Venus Swannes have built their nest,
And so take glory to disteine
The azure of each swelling vaine ;
Thence run thou boyling through each part
Till thou hast warm'd her frozen heart ;
But if from love she would retire
Then martyr her with gentle fire
And having search't each secret place
Fly back againe into her face ;
Where blessed live in changing those
White lillyes to a Ruddy rose :
1 86 Wit Restored.
To his Mistris.
Iast when I saw thee, thou didst sweetly play
-^ The gentle theife, and stolst my heart away,
Render't again or else give me thine owne
In change, for two for thee (when I have none)
Too many are, else I must say. Thou art
A sweet facd creature with a double heart.
^M* *sAf* ')A/* *^jy *^jy* •^jy» f^jy* "jy* *jy* ^^J)/* f^y fjy *^u* r)jy fM* »yy»
On Christ-church windowe, and
Magdalen Colledge wall.
YEe men of Galilee why gaze yee so
On Maudlins necessary print, as though
T'had bin enough for that pure virgin's sonne
That was incarnate, dyed, & rose, to have done
Those heavenly acts, that ransom'd al from hell
And yet no visible effigies tell
The eye, the manner how. Ye misconceive
Who think these sacred mysteryes must leave
Impression onely in the soul ; how then
Shall those that bear more shape than mind of men,
(Unlesse their outward sense informe them) know
What accidents their Saviour long ago
Wit Restored. 187
Sustain'd ? each wise man sees 'tis not the- fate
Of every ideot to be literate.
And who can then forbid (ye Lay) to look
And read those things without or line or book.
Besides, (if modestye may judge) what ist
But a supply to each Evangelist?
Long may the leamed; study, peace and scratch
Before the forme of th' mainger or the cratch
Wherein Babe Christ was layd, be understood.
Each bungling joynernow may ken what wood
Tlie stall was made of where the long eared steed
And his associate Qxe did stand and feed.
Each practis'd oastler knowes their meat, can say
There is their provender, this is their hay.
Yee now may leame the naked shepherds hewt
The stripling boy, and him it'h cap of blew,
As perfectly as it had scene the clownes
Each day a sunning on the Jewish downes ;
'Tis strange the dogg's not there, perhapps the Curr
Was left behind, for feare of noise or stirre :
But veiw the venerable face' whereon
The home and candle cast reflection,
Observe it well if ere you chance to meet
In paradise, you'le know't as soon as see't,
Tis reverent Josephs portraiture, see how
The very image seemes to cringe and bow,
Marke well his beard, his eyes, his nose, if ought
Be mist, tis yours, and not the painters fault.
Then lead your eyes unto the beauteous one
Who nere knew man, yet mother to a sonne.
188 Wit Restor'd.
Doth not her face more fully speake her heart
And joy, than text or comment can impart ?
But oh how little like her selfe when shee
Whose upcast, downe cast lookes, behold the tree ?
That fatall tree whereon the Lord of breath
Expos'd himselfe to th' tyranny of death ;
Was ever sorow so set forth ? and yet
To make the quire of heavinesse compleat.
The lov'd disciple bears his part, and so
Doth that brave lasse that clips the Crosse below.
Consult allauthors, English Greek & Lattin,
You nere saw truer greife or finer sattin.
Foule fall the bird whose undiscerning mute
Presumes to turpifye so rich a suite ;
T'was very strange they durst so boldly greeve
When those untutor'd hacksters of the Shreeve
Close by sat armed Cap-a-pee with speares.
And swords, and glittering helmets, or'e their eares
Bestriding fiery steeds so markt so made
Bucephalus himselfe was but a jade
Compar d to these, why ? who would be but vext
To see such palfryes here, and none it'h text ?
Next let your eyes and thoughts be fixt upon
The sad-sad story of the passion ;
See how from side, from feet, from hands as yet
The crimson blood trills down, you'l sweare twere wet ;
Were Thomas here himselfe, he would not linger
But sooner trust his eyes then erst his finger.
Mark how death's sable cloud doth over-spread
His lips his cheeks, his eyes, his sacred head.
Wit Restated, 189
Behold death drawn to th'life, as if that hee
Thus wrackt and stretch't upon th' accursed tree,
Had been of purpose nayld to th' crosse to try
The Painters cunning hand, more than to dye.
He left him dead, but twas not in the power
Of grave, or hell to keep him, there one houre
Beyond his own determination.
Three dayes are past, and Jonah's type is done
He walkes, and in full glory leaps from tombe :
As Lazarus from th' earths insatiate wombe.
But not to dye againe : meane while the guard
Who vigilantly slept, soon as they heard
Deaths prisoner, and their's so strangely rise
Start up with frighted hearts and gastly eyes.
They stare and muse, and sweare, the heardsmen talke
Strange things, but nere till now saW dead men walke :
Do but take notice how the rascalls look
As if some prodigie had thunderstrook
The villaines hearts, or some strange power had showne
Medusae's head, and tumd them all to stone.
Sure small perswasion would have made the Elves
For feare of further paines to hang themselves :
And blame them not, the Lord was now calcin'd
Bright as the Sun, his body so refin'd
That not the sawcinesse of mortall eye
Could stare upon such lustre and not dye.
His glorifi'd humanity can stay
No more on earth, heaven calls, he must awayj
Yet ere he part hee'le take his leave, th' eleven,
Attend, and see him ravisht iijto.heaven.
I go Wit Restord.
Their eyes (untill an interposing cloud
Did interdict accesse of sight, and shrowd
His godlike countenance from mortall ken)
Still waite upon th'ascending Lord ; but when
Distance had snatcht him from their view, they lift
Their hands to th' skie, as if they made some shift
To draw him down againe, such was their love
Theile scarse assent to his ascent above.
Where once more, note, the text supplyed which tells
Th' Apostles were spectators and none else
But count byth' pole you'l find th' eleven increast
Their troops amount to five orsixe at least.
Were Luke alive, hee'd thank the painters wit,
Who saw his oversight and mended it.
Let's yeeld to reason then, let him that lists
Dispute the number of th' Evangelists ;
If Judgement ever please this -thing to lift.
Or Greenbury or none must be the fift
I 've done, but first He pray, hayle holy cloth
And live in spight of rottennesse or moth.
Nor time nor vermine^ ere shall dare to be
Corruptors of so much Divinitie ;
But men of Galilee' why do ye gaze,
On that which may delight, but not amaze?
That's left for us ; let any wise man h«id
His eyes towards-our orientall end
Hee'le blesse himselfe indeed, grow wise .; withall ^
Approaching take the window for a wall
And then conclude that Wadehams perspective
Nor Lincolnes stately types can long survivec-j
Wz^ Restored. 1 9 1
They'le break for envie (spight of wise) to find
Us to transcend themselves so farre behind ;
But lie not prayse our own, 'tis far more fit
To leave the taJke to some fine Maud'lin wit,
Who may enroule in some well languish't staine
As we their walls, so they our lights againe
Only I feare they will, (least we surpasse)
Pull down their hall to build up Eastern glassj
An Elegie.
WHy faire vow-breakerj ,have thy sinnes thought fit
That I be.Qurst example of thy wit 1
As well as scomes? (bad wornn) have not!
Deserv'd as much as quiet misery ?
Be wise and trouble not, my suffering; fit :
For every sin I have repentance yet,'
Except for loving thee,;, do not thou presse;
My easie madnesse to a wickednesses
As high as that, least,-! be driyen.so
As far from heaven as thou art, which I know
Is not thy ayme,.for thou hast-sin'dto be
In place, as in aflFection, farre from me.
Am I thy freind or kinsmaa ?. have I ought
That is familiar with thee bettring thought .:
A dreame and some. fe^. liters too, yet lye.
Neglected records of my injury.
192 Wii Restored.
I know no itch my silent sorrowes moves ;
To begg a bridall kisse or paire of gloves
These are the lighter dutyes which they seek
Whose sleepe is sound & constant as the week
Is in her nights, who never met the chaunce
Of love amisse, but in a dreameing traunce
And wak't to gladnesse ; t'is not so with me
My night and day are twins in misery.
These spend-thrift eyes have beene prepar'd with feares
To keep a solemne revelling in teares ;
Hadst thou beene silent I had known the shame
Of that dayes union by my greife, not fame.
Priva'te as sorrowes lodging had I dwelt
Follow'd with my dispaire and never felt
Anger except for livinge hadst thou bin
Content with my undoinge 'Tis a sinn
My love cannot forgive there to upbraid
A wretchednesse which thou thy selfe hast made
Heaven knowes I sufFerd, and I sufiferd so
That by me twas as infallible to know
How passive man is, fate knew not a curse
Except thy new contempt to make mee worse
And that thou gav'st when I so low was brought
I knew not if I liv'd but yet I thought.
And counted sighs and teares, as if to scann
The aire and water would make up a man.
Hadst thou not broake the peace of my decay
Ere this I thinke I'de wept some sinns away.
Being diseas'd, diseag'd past mine own cure
Thou wouldst needs kill which made mee to indure.
Wit Restor'd. 193
My patience : why (loyes murdresse) wouldst thou
prove
Whether that bee as passive as my love ?
Had woman such a way as shee can give
To man deniall, as of love to live ?
Why then th' abhored reason meets me ; why
Successless lovers doe so quickly dye,
So be it with mee, but if any curse
First can be fastned on thee which is worse
Then thy unwept for vow-breach may it come
As my greife heavye ; may the tedious summe
Of thy great sinns stand sentinell to keep
Repentance from thy thoughts reach. May thy
Sleep Be broken as my hopes, 'bove all may he
Thou choosest husband ripe to jealousye.
And find it true, to tell thee ; may the theames
On which thy sleepe doth paraphrase in dreames
Bee my sad wrongs : and when some other shall
{Whom chance hath made with mee apocryphall
In loveing storyes) search an instance forth
To curse his Mistris for her little worth,
May thy name meet him, under whom must be
The Common place of womans perjury.
May heaven make all this : and if thou pray
May heaven esteeme as that thou didst that day
Of thy last promises, I've said, be free
This pennance done, then my dayes destinye
By thee is antedated. But three sighs
Must first pay my admission to the skyes.
VOL. I. o
194 Wit Res for' d.
One for my madness, loving woman so
That I could think her true ; the next ile throw
For 'woiindefd lovers, that i'le' breath a new ;
The third shall pray my curses may prove true.
In imitation of Sir Philip Sydriies
Encomium of Mopsa.
Assist mee Love, and' LoV's, great Queen oi Pdphos
Inspire my muse with straines more rich then kaphas!
Approabh' you Heliconian lasses, even
Chaste Erato, 'Thiilie arid th' other seaven.
Direct my qiiill' whilst' I her praises caroU out
Whose paralle's not found in all the world about
In loveliaesse sh' excells' (arid 'tis no wonder)
Those brave D«7/a«, forgers of Joves thunder,
For'chastity Irii'esure her equal! none is
Not Venus selfe'thkt lov'd the faire Adonis.
Medea's not more mild; who as the talk is
Made '^aw«'Steale the golden fleece from Ckokhos.
For modest silence,' I dare say shee'l fit ye
Wherein shee'Snbt an ace behind ZanHppe,
But Oh ! the comely graces of her feature
Great Plutoes Cour affords not such a creature.
Her golden tresses far surpasse Megeera's
In compassing'her Idfty forehead, whereas
No frown nor wrinckle ere appearea to fright ye
But still more calme than smooth fac'd Ampkirite.
Wit Restord. ,195
Beneath those vauhed cells are fixt those torches
From whence proceeds that flame so fiercely siorches.
Between both which her precious nose is placed,
With fairest peas'les and rubies rich encased.
Next comes her heavenly mouth whose sweet composure
Falls not within expressions, limmits, no sure.
This even unto her precious eares doth guide us,
Which makes her full as faire as great King My das.
She's smooth as Pan,'\\s,x skin (which you'le admire) is
Like purest gold, more glorious far then Iris,
And to close up this Magazin of pleasures
She most exactly treads god- Vulcans measures
This is my Mistris Character, and if in
These lines her name you misse, 'tis faire Bess Griffin.
rjy* f^jy* *^jy' %n^ '•jy* ')jy '^jy "jy* '^V* '^&• '\A* '^/iT 'W* ^ft" "^c^* *UV
A Scholl^r thai sold his . Cussion.
TOm I commend thy care of all I know.
That souldst this Cushion- for a pipe of To-
Now art thou like though not to studdy more
Yet ten times harder then thou didst before.
2
196 Wit Restof'd.
On the death of Cut. Cobler.
DEath and an honest Cobler fell at bate
And finding him wome out, would needs translate ;
He was a trusty so'le, and time had bin
He would well liquord go through thick and thin.
Death put a trick upon him, and what was't ?
The Cobler call'd for All, death brought his last ;
'Twas not uprightly done to cut his thread,
That mended more and more till he was dead :
But since hee's gone, 'tis all that can be said,
Honest Cut-CoMer here is underlayd.
'V^* '^/y '^A/* *^jy» 'V^ 'WV* «>A* •^A/' *^jV' %^* f^fi/* "^A* 'yv» 'yv» *\An *uy»
A Letter to Ben. Johnson.
Die jfohnson, crosse not our Religion so
As to be thought immortall ; let us know
Thou art no God ; thy works make us mistake
Thy person, and thy great creations make
Us Idoll thee, and cause we see thee do
Eternall things, think thee eternall too.
Restore us to our faith and dye, diy doorae
Will do as much good as the fall of Rome :
'Twill crush an heresie, we ne're must hope
For truth till thou be gon, thou and the Pope.
Wit Restored. 197
And though we may be certaine in thy fall
To lose both wit and judgement, braines and all,
Thou Sack; nor Love, nor Time recover us
Better be fooles then superstitious.
Dye ! to what end should we thee now adore
There is not SchoUership to live to more,
Our language is refin'd : professors doubt
Their Greek and Hebrew both shall be put out
And we that Latin studied have so long
Shall now dispute & write in 'j^ohnsons tongue.
Nay, courtiers yeeld, & every beautious wench
Had rather speak thy English then her French.
But for thy matter fancy stands agast
Wondering to see her strength thus best at last.
Invention stops her course and bids the world
Look for no more ; she hath already hurld
Her treasure all on one, thou hast out-done
So much our wit and expectation.
That were it not for thee, we scarse had known
Nature her selfe could ere so farre have gon.
Dye ! seemes it not enough thy verse's date
Is endlesse ; but thine own prolonged fate
Must equall it ; for shame engross not age
But now (the iith act ended) leave the stage.
And let us clap, we know the Stars that do
Give others one life, give a laureat two.
But thou, if thus thy body long survives,
Hast two eternities, and not two lives.
Die for thine own sake, seest thou not thy praise
Is shortned onely by this length of dales.
198 Wit Restor'd.
Men may talk this, and that, to part the strife.
My tenet is, thou hast no fault but life.
Old Authors do speed best, me-thinks thy warm breath
Casts a thick mist betwixt thy worth, which death
Would quickly dissipate. If thou wouldst have
Thy Bayes to flourish, pknt them on thy grave.
Gold now is drosse, and Oracles are stuffe
With us, for why ? Thou art not low enough.
We still look under thee. Stoop, and submit
Thy glory to the meanest of our wit.
The Rhodian Colossus, ere it fell.
Could not be scan'd and measured, half so well.
Lie levell to our view, so shall we see,
Our third and richest University.
Art's length, Art's heighth, Art's depth, can ne're be found.
Till thou art prostrate, stretch'd upon the ground.
Learning no farther then thy life extends,
With thee began all Arts, with thee it ends.
On a young Lady, and her Knight.
AVertuous Lady sitting in a muse,
(As fair and vertuous. Ladies often use,)
With elbow leant upon one knee so hard,
The other distant from it half a yard.
Her Knight, to quip her by a secret token.
Said, Wife, arise, your Cabinet stands open.
She rising, blush'd, and smilingly did say,
Lock it then, if you please, you keep the key.
Wit Restord, , 199
On a Welch^mainks devotion.
THe way to make. a. Welch-man thirst, for blisse,
And daily, say his, prayers on his knees,
Is, to perswade him, that most certain, 'tis, ^
The Moon is made of nothing hut .green, cheese :
Then he'l desire nought else, nor greater, boon.
Then plac'd in heayen,,to,feed. upon, the Moon.
On a' Maid's. Legge^
FAir Betty us'd to tuck her coats up high,
That men her foot and leg might soon. espy.
Thou hast a pretty legg, (saith one) fair Duck.
Yea, two, (saith she) or else I have ill luck.
They're two indeed^ they'Te twins, I think-, quoth he;
They are, and yet they are not, Sir, said she ;
They're birth was both at. once, I dare be sworn
And yet between them both a man was bom.
200 Wit Restored.
To his Sister.
LOving sister, every line
Of your last Letter, was so fine,
With the best mettall, that the grain.
Of Scriveners pin-dust had been vain.
The touch of gold did sure instill
Some vertue, more than did your quill.
And since you write no cleanly hand,
Your tokens make me understand.
Mine eyes have here a remedy,
Whereby to read more easily.
I do but jest ; Your love alone.
Is my interpretation.
My words I will recall, and swear,
I know your hand is wondrous fair.
t^^ f^^ *^j^ t>^ju* t\ju* t\jy »\jy* %V "^A* f^y* "jy* •\Df '^jy* *^y »^»
On the death of Hobson, the
Cambridge-Ca;rr?'i?r.
HEre Hobson lies, amongst his many betters,
A man not learned, yet of many Letters ;
The Schollers well can justifie as much,
Who have receiv'd them from his pregnant pouch.
Wit Restord. 201
His carriage is well known, oft hath he gone
An Embassie, 'twixt father and the son.
In Cambridge few (in good time be it spoken)
But will remember him by some good token.
From thence to London rode he day by day,
Till death benighting him, he lost his way.
Nor wonder is it, that he thus is gone.
Since most men know, he long was drawing on.
His Team was of the best, nor could he have
Them mir'd in any ground, but in the grave ;
And there he sticks indeed, still like to stand,
Untill some Angell lend his helping hand.
So rests in peace the ever toihng Swain,
And supream Waggoner, next Charts his wain.
Another on the same.
HEre lieth one, who did most truely prove.
That he could never die, whilst he could move.
So hung his destiny, never to rot.
Whilst he could but jogg on, and keep his trot.
Made of Sphear mettall, never to decay,
Untill his resolution made of stay.
Time numbers motion, yet without a crime,
'Gainst old truth, motion numbered out his time.
And like some Engine mov'd, with wheeles and weight,
His principles once ceas'd, he ended streight.
202 Wit Restor'dl
Rest, that gives all men life, gave, him his death,
And too much breathing put him out of breath.
For had his doings lasted as they) were
He had-been an immortall Carrier.
Another.
HEre lies old Hobson 1 Death hath his desire,
And here (alasse) hath left him in the mire ;
Or else the waies being foul, twenty to one,
■ He's here stuck in a slough, and overthrown.
'Twas Such a shifter, that if truth were known,-
Death was half glad that he had got him down.
For he hath any time this ten years full,
Dog'dd him 'twixt Cambridge and the London-Bull.
And surely death could never have prevail'd,
Had not his weekly course of carriage fail'd.
But lately finding him so long at home,
And thinking now his journey's end was come ;
And that he had tane up his latest Inne,
Death in the likenesse of a Chamberlin,
Shewed him his room, where he must lodge that night,
PuU'd off his boots, and took away the light.
If any ask for him, it shall be sed,
Hobson has supt, and newly gon to bed.
Wit Residrd: 203
Fr. Clark, Porter of St. Johns,
To the President.
HElp Silvanus, help god Pan,
To shew my. love to this kinde man,
Who out ofs love and nature good,
Hath well encreas'd my store of wood.
And whilest he the same peruses,
Wood-Nymphs help instead of Muses.
Oh thou that sitst at St. Johns helm,
I humbly thank thee for my Elme ;
Or if it chance an Oak to prove.
With heart of Oak I thank your love.
This Tree (to leave all Owi/'s fables)
Shall be the Tree of Predicables.
Or if you like not that opinion,
The kindred Tree oi ^tz-t Justinian.
Thus finer Wits may run upon't,
But I do mean to make fire on't :
By which I'le sit and sing, in spight of wealth.
And drink in Lambs-wool to your Worship's'health.
An Epitaph.
HEre underneath this stone doth' lie.
That worthy Knight, brave Q\r John Drie;
At whose funerall there was no weeping.
He d/d before Christmas, to save house-keeping.
204 Wit Res tor' d.
A Wife.
A Lusty young wife, that of late was sped,
With all the pleasures of a marriage-bed.
Oft a grave Doctor ask'd, whether's more right
For Venus sports, the morning or the night.
The good old man repl/d, as he thought meet,
The mom's more wholsom, but the night more sweet.
Nay then (said she) since we have time and leasure,
We'l to't each morn for health, each night for pleasure.
The constant man.
HE that with frownes is not dejected,
Nor with soothing smiles erected ;
Nor at the baits of pleasure biteth.
He whom no thoughts nor crosse affrighteth
But, center to himself, controleth,
Change and fortune when she rouleth.
Who when the silent night begins,
Makes even reckoning with his sinns :
Who not deferreth till to morrow,
To wipe out his black scores of sorrow.
Who sets hell-pains at six and seven.
And feareth not the fall of heaven.
Wii Restored. 205
But's full resolv'd without denyall,
To yield his life to any tryall ;
Making his death his meditation,
And longing for his transmigration.
This is the constant man, who never
From himself, nor God doth sever.
To his Mistris.
COme let's hug and kisse each other,
Sacrificing to Love's mother :
These are duties which she loves.
More then thousand milky Doves
Fresh bleeding on her altars. We
Will not use our piety
In such slaughters. Cruelty
Is no devotion, nor can I
Believe, that she can pleasure take
In blood, unlesse for Mars his sake.
No : Let us to Cytkera's Queen,
Bum for sacrifice our green,
And tender youth, with those divine
Flames, which thine eyes begot of mine.
And lest the while our zeal catch cold,
In warm embraces we'l enfold
Each other, to produce a heat.
Thus pleasing her, we pleasure get.
Then let's kisse and hugg each other,
Sacrificing to LoVs mother.
2o6 Wit Restor'd.
Swearing.
IN elder times, an antient custom was,
In weighty matters to swear by the Masse.
And when the Mass was dgwn, as all. men note,
Then swore they by the crosse of the grey Groat.
And when the crosse was, likewise, held in scorn,
Then faith and troth was all the oath was sworn.
But when they had out-worn both faith and troth.
Then, Dam my soul, became a common oath.
So custom kept decorum in gradation :
Mass, cross, faith, troth out-sworn, then came damnation.
On a gopd Legg and Foot.
IF Hercules tall stature might be guess'd
But by his thumb, the Index of the rest.
In due proportion, the best rule that I
Would chuse, to measure Venus beauty by,
Should be her leg and foot : Why gaze we so
On th'upper parts, as proud to look below,
(In chusing Wives) when 'tis top often known.
The colours of their face are not their own.
As for their legs,. whether they mince or stride.
Those native compasses are seldom wide
Wit-Hestof'd. 207
■ Of telling truth. The round and slender.foot,
Is a prov'd token of a secret note,
Of hidden, parts, and- well this way may Jead,
Unto the closet of .a mayden-head.
Here emblems of our youth, we Roses tie ;
And here, the Garter, love's, dear mystery.
For want of beauty, here,^ the Peacock^'s pride,
Let's fall iier. train, and fearing, to be spy'd,
Shuts up her painted witnesses, to let
Those eyes from, view,' which are. but counterfeit.
Who looks, not if, this part be good or evill,
May meet .with cloven feet, arid match the devill.
For this did make the. difference between
The more unhallowed creatures,! and the. clean.
Well may youi judge, iter,- other parts? are Jight,
Her thoughts aje , wry, that .doth; not tread aright.
But then ,ther's, true perfebtion, when we.- see.
Those, parts, more iabsQ.lute:.which.,hidden be.
Nature; ne'rclent a fair foundatiop,
For an unworthy frame to rest .thereon.
Let others view the top, and limbs throughout,
The deeper knowledge is to know the, root
In viewing of the face, ,the,w.eakest know
What beauty is, the learned look more low :
And in the feet the other parts descry.
As in a pool the Moon we use to spy.
Pardon, sweet-heart, the pride of my desire,
If but to kisse your toe it should aspire.
2o8 Wit Restored.
^ft* ^i^ ^j^* ^j^* %c^ ^i^ *^JV ^0^^ '\Af* 'sL/* *\ii/* *jy ^\£/* '^^ ^^^ ^^*
py>on the view of his Mistresse face
in a Glasse.
A
H cruel Glasse ! didst thou not see,
Chloris alone too hard for me ?
Perceiv'dst thou not her charming sight,
Did ravish mine in cruell fight ?
But then another she must frame,
Whose single forces well might tame
A lovers heart ; no humane one.
Is proof against her force alone.
Yet did I venture, though struck mute.
The beauteous vision to salute.
But that like aire in figur'd charms,
Deceiv'd the ambush of my arms.
'Twas some wise Angel her shape took.
That so he might more heavenly look.
I her old captive, now do yield
Her shaddowed self another field :
By such odds overcome, to die.
Is no dishonoured victory.
H
On Bond the Userer.
Ere lyes a Bond under this tombe,
Seald and deliver'd to, god knows whom.
Wii Restored. 209
To the Duke of Buckingham.
WHen I can pay my Parents, or my King,
For life, or peace, or any dearer thing.
Then, dearest Lord, expect my debt to you
Shall be as truly paid, as it is due.
But as no other price or recompence
Serves them, but love, and my obedience.
So nothing payes my Lord, but whats above
The reach of hands, his vertue, and my love.
For when as goodness doth so overflowe,
The conscience binds not to restore but owe,
Requitall were presumption, and you may,
Call mee ungratefull, when I strive to pay.
Nor with this morall lesson do I shift
Like one that meant to save a better guift.
Like very poor or connterfeit poor men,
Who to preserve their Turky or their hen
Do offer up themselves. No, I have sent
(A kind of guift, will last by being spent]^
Thanks-starling, farr above the bullion rate
Of horses, hangings, Jewells, coyne, or plate.
Oh you that should in choosing of your owne.
Know a true Diamond from a Bristow stone,
You that do know they are not allwayes best
In their intent, that lowdest do portest
VOL. I. P
2IO Wit Restored.
But that a prayer from the Convocation,
Is better than the Commons protestation,
Trust them that at your feet their lives will lay
And know no arts but to performe and pray
Whilstthey that buy perferment -vvithout praying
Begin with bribes, and finish with betraying.
The: Gentlemans verses before he Killed
hdmselfe.
HAst Night unto thy Center, are thy winges'
Rul'd by the course of dull clockt plummetings?
If so, mount on my thoughts, & wee'le exceed
All time that's past t'gain midnight with our speed
The day more favourable hasted on
And by its death sent mee instruction
To make thy darknesse totnbe my life, let theli
Thy wonted houres seize on the eyes of men
Make them imagine by their sleepe, what I
Must truly act, let each Starr veyle his Eye
With masques of mourninge clowdes : methinkes the owles
Prodigious summons strike me, and she houles
My Epicedium, with whose tragick quill
He pencill in this map my haplesse ill.
Caus'd first by her, whose fowle apostacy
In love for ever brand her ; and when I
Wii Res tor' d. 2 1 1
Am dead, deare paper (my minds heire) convey
This epitaph unto her veiwe, and pray
Her to inscribe it on my tombe.
ITere lyes
One murthered by a womans perjuryes
Who from the time, she scorn' d him, scorn' d to live
No rivall shall him of his death derive.
A Song in commendation of
Musicke.
WHen whispering straines doe softly steale
With creeping passion through the heart
And when at every touch wee feel
Our pulses beat and beare a part
When threads can make
A hart string quake
Philosophy
Can scarce denye
The soule consists of harmony.
When unto heavenly joyes we feigne
What ere the soul affecteth most
Which only thus we can explaine
By musick of the winged host.
p 2
2 1 2 Wii Restor'd.
Whose layes wee thinke
Make Starrs to winke
Philosophy
Cannot deny
Our soule consists of harmony.
O lull mee, lull mee, charminge ayr
My senses rockt with wonder sweet
Like snow on wooll, thy fallings are
Soft, like a spirit, are thy feet
Greife who need feare
That hath an eare
Downe let him lye
And slumbring dye
And change his soule for harmony.
A Dialogue betwixt Cupid and
a Country-Swaine.
AS Cupid tooke his bow and bolt
Some birding-sport to find ;
He lightt upon a shepheards swaine
That was some good mans hinde.
Swa. Well met faire Boy, what sport abroad
It is a goodly day :
The birds will sitt this frosty morne
You cannot choose but slay.
Wit Restord. 213
Gods-ouches look, your eyes are out
You will not bird I trow :
Alas gee home or else I thinke
The birds will laugh at you.
Cup. Why man thou dost "deceave thy selfe
Or else my mother lyes
Who sayd that though that I were blind
My arrowes yet had eyes.
Swa. Why then thy mother is a voole
And thou art but an elfe,
To let thy arrowes to have eyes
And goe with out thy selfe,
Cup. Not, so Sir Swaine, but hold thy prate.
If I do take a shaft
He make thee know what I can do
(At this the yoling Swain laught :)
Then angry Cupid drew his bow
Swa. For Gods sake kill mee not.
Cup. He make thy lither liver ake
Swa. Nay Ide be loth of that.
The singing arrow hit the marke
And pierc'd his silly soule
You might see by his hollow eyes
Where love had made a hole.
And so. the Swain went bleeding home,
To stay it was no boot :
And found that he could see to hit,
That could not see to shoot.
2 14 Wii Restoy'd.
Si^h
es.
OTell mee, tell, thou god of winde
In all thy cavemes canst thou find
A vapor, flame, a gale or blast
Like to a sigh which love doth cast ?
Can any whirle-wind in thy vault
Plough up Earths breath with like assault.
Goe Wind and blow then where thou please
Yea breathlesse leave mee to my ease.
If thou bee'st wind, O then refrain
From wracking me whilst I complain ;
If thou bee'st wind, then leight thou art
And yet how heavy is my heart ?
If thou bee'st wind, then purge thy way
Let care, that cloggs thy force, obey,
Goe wind and blowe, Gt'C.
These blasts of sighing raised are
By th'influence of my bright starre ;
The ^olus from whence they came
Is love that straines to blow the same :
The angry Sway of whose behest
Makes hearth and bellowes of one brest
Go wind and blo^ve, &'C.
Wii Mestord. 215
Know t'is a wind that longs to blow
Upon my Saint where ere she goe,
And stealing through her fanne it beares
Soft errands to her lipps and eares,
And then perhaps a passage makes
Down>e to the heart when breath sbsc- tafces.
Go£ wind and blow, ^c.
Yea gentle gale, try it againe,
Oh do not passe from me in vaine ;
Go mingle with her soul divine
Engendring spirits like to mine :
Yea take my soul along with thee
To work a stronger Sympathy.
Goe wind and Mow, d^•f,
My soul before the grosser part.
Thus to her heaven should depart,
And when my body cannot lie
On wings of wind, she soone shall flye ;
Though not one soul our bodies joyne.
Our bodies shall our soules combine,
Goe, wind and Uow thou where thoupease^
Ym bnathlessc leave me to. my, ease.
its Wit Restord.
Weomen.
WEomen are borne in Wilsheire,
Brought up in Cumberland.
Lead their lives in Bedfordsheire
Bring their husbands to Buckingame
And dye in Shrewsbury.
On a dissembler.
COuld any show where Flmies Tpeo]^ie dwell
Whose head stand in their brests, who cannot tell,
A smoothinge lye, because their open heart
And lipps are jojmed so neere. I would depart
As quicke as thought, and there forget the wrongs
Which I have sufferd by deceitfull tongues.
I would depart, where soules departed bee
WTiich being freed from clowdy flesh, can see
Each other so immediately, so cleare, , .
That none need tongues to speak nor eares to heare :
Were tongues intended to expresse the soul
And can wee better do with none at all ?
Where words first made our meanings to reveale ?
And as they us'd our meaning to conceale ;
WitRestord. 21 f
The ayre by which we breathe, will that tume fogg ?
Or breath turne mist ; will that become a Clogg
Which should unload the mind ? fall wee upon
Another Babells Sub-confusion ?
And in the selfe same language must wee find,
A diverse faction of the wordes and mind ?
Dull as I am, that hug such empty aire,
And never markt the deeds, (a phrase more faire
More trusty and univocall) Joyne well,
Three or foure actions wee may quickly spell
A hollow heart ; if these no sight will lend.
Read the whole sentence and observe the end.
I wil not waite so long : the guilty man
(On whom I ground my speech) no longer can
Delude my sense, nor can the gracefuU art
Of kind dissembling, button up his heart.
His well-spoke wrongs, are such as hurtfuU words
Writ in a comely hand, or bloody swords,
Sheathd up in velvet, if he draw on mee
My armour proof is incredulity.
To a Freind.
Like as the hand which hath bin usd to play
One lesson long, still runs the usuall way :
And waites not what the hearers bid it strike,
But doth presunie by custome this will like.
2i8 Wit Rester'd.
So run my thoughts which are so perfect grown,
So well acquainted w4th my passion ;
That now they- do prevent mee with their haste
And ere I think to sigh, my sigh is past ;
Is past and flown to you, for you atene
Are all the object that I think upon j
And did not you supply my soul with thought
For want of action it to none -were brought.
What though our absent armes may not enfold
Reall embraces ; yet wee firmly hold
Each other in possession ; thus wee see
The Lord enjoyes Ms Lands where 6*16 he be.
If Knights possest no more then where they sate
What were they greater then a meaner state ?
This makes mee firndy yours, you firmly myne
That something more than bodies us combine.
A Poeticall Poem, by Mr. Stephen Locket
to Mistrisse Bess Sarney.
TO my Bess Sarney, quintessence of beauty,
I Steven Locket do present my duty.
In rythem daigne goddes? to ^ceept my verses,
I wis with worse wise men have wip't their A
O thou which able art to take to taske all
(Pox ! what will rythme to that ?) oh, I'me a raskall,
But I'me turnd poet late, and for thy credit.
Have pend this poem, prethee tak't and read it.
TVii Restored. 2 19
Thou needs not be asham'd oft, for it raises
Trophyes as high as maypoles to thy prayses.
But first in order it thy head doth handle
That's more orbicular than a quadrangle.
On top of which doth grow a Turff of tresses
Winter her selfe, rayd in her hoary dresses
Of frosit, lookes not more lovely ; thy browes troly
Have larger furrowes, than a feild ploughed newly.
Thy eyes, ha eyes (Zounds I'am so full of clinches)
Are not sunck in thy head above sixe inches ;
From which distraining gently, there doth streame
Rivers of whey, mixed with curdled creame.
Straight as a Rams home is thy nose, more marrow
Lyes in thy nostrills, than would fill a barrow.
And at your lip to mak't more ornamental!,
Hangs down a Jewell of S — Orientall.
The bright gold & thy face are of one colour,
But if compar'd with thine, that is the duller.
Thy lips are white as tallow, never man did
Buss sweeter things, (sure they are sugar-candid.)
Thy teeth more comely than two dirty rakes are,
Thy breath is stronger jthan a dgu^en jakes are.
A fart for all perfumes, a turd for roses
Smell men but thee, they wish them selves all noses.
Thy voyce g.s sweet, as musipall, as fin.e is.
As any phlegmy Hagg's, that ninty nine is.
And when thou speakst, (as if th'had bin the wonder
Of women kind) thy tongu's as still as thunder.
But oh thy shoulders large ; 'tis six to seven.
Should Atla's faile, but thou wouldst beare up heaven.
2 2 o Wit Res tor d.
Thou dost excell, I warrant thee for a button,
Hercules and Cams too, that stole mutton.
About the wast, there thou art three times fuller.
Then was the Wadham Garaganttian Stiller.
Thy buttock and thy fashion are so all one,
That I'de a swore thou hadst a Fardingall on
Thy leggs are Badger like, and goe as even,
As do lambick verses or f Steven,
And now I'm come unto thy feet, where I do
Prostrate my selfe, with reverence to thy shoo,
Which for antiquity ne're a jot behind is.
Tom Coriats, that travell'd both the Indies.
For thy sweet sake, I will go down to Pluto,
And in thy quarrel beat him black & blew too ;
And lest Sr Cerberus should be too lusty,
I have a loafe will hold him p'ay, 'tis crusty.
I'le bring the Dev'll back with me in a snaffle.
For in that kind I scome to take a baffle.
And so I take my leave ; prithee sweet Thumkin,
Hold up thy coats, that I may kisse thy bumkin.
Thanks for a welcome.
FOr your good looks, and for your Claret
For often bidding, Do not spare it ;
For tossing glasses to the top.
And after sucking of a drop.
Wii Restored. 221
When scarce a drop was left behind,
Or what doth nickname wine e'vn wind :
For healthfull mirth and lusty Sherry,
Such as made grave old Cato merry ;
Such are our thanks that you may have
In bloud the Claret that you gave.
And in your service shall be spent
The spirits which your Sack hath lent.
To Phillis,
FYe on this Courtly life, full of displeasure
Where neither frownes nor smiles keepe any measure,
But every passion governs in extremes.
True love and faith from hence falshod doth banish ;
And vowes of friendship here like vapours vanish,
Loyalty's counted but a dreame,
Inconstant favours like rivers gliding.
Truth is despis'd
Whilst flatterie's priz'd,
Poore vertue here hath no certaine abiding.
Then let's no longer stay, my fairest Phillis,
But let us fly from hence where so much ill is ;
Into some some desert place there to abide
True love shall go with us and faith unfained
Pure thoughts, embraces chaste, and vowes unstain'd.
Vertue her selfe shall ever be our guide,
2 22 Wit Restord.
In Cottage poore where neither frowning fortune,
Nor change of fate
Can once abate,
Our sweet content, or peace at all importune.
There will we drive our flocks from hills and rallies.
And whilst they feeding are, wee'l sit & dally ;
And thy sweet voyce to sing birds shall invite
Whilst I with roses, violets, and lillies
Will flowry garlands make to crown my Phillis.
Or ntiiribred verses to thy praise indite
And when the Sun is Westwardly declining.
Our flocksand we,
Will homewards flee
And rest our selves untill the Suns next shining.
Women.
ONce I must confesse I loved
And expected love againe,
But so often as I proved
My expectance was in vaine.
Women joy to be attempted.
And do glory when they see
Themselves from loves force exempted,
And that men captived bee.
Wit Restored. 223
If they love,, they can conceale it,
Arid dissemble when they please.
When as men will straight reveale it
And malse known their hearts disease.
Men must beg and crave their favour,
Making many an idle vow ;
Whilst they froward in behaviour,
Faine would yeild, but know not how.
Sweet stolrie-sport to theta is gratefuU,
And in heart they wish to have it ;
Yet they do account it hatefull
Upon any termes to crave it.
But would men not goe about it
But leave off at all to woe,
Ere they would be long without it,
They would beg and crave it too.
The World.
WHether men do laugh or weep,
Whether they doe wake or sleep,
Whether they feele heat or cold.
Whether they be young or old ;
There is underneath the Sun
Nothing in true earnest done.
2 24 Wit Restored.
All our pride is but a jest,
None are worst and none are best ;
Greife and joy, and hope and feare.
Play their pageants every where ;
Vaine opinion all doth sway
And the world is but a play.
Powers above in clouds doth sit,
Marking our poore apish wit.
That so lamely without state,
Their high glory imitate.
No ill can be felt but paine,
And that happy men disdaine.
On his absent Mistresse.
ABsence, heare thou my protestation
Against thy strength.
Distance and length ;
Do what thou canst for alteration :
For hearts where love's refin'd
Are absent joyn'd, by tyme combin'd.
Who loves but where the Graces be,
His mind hath found
Affectious ground
Beyond time place mortality.
That heart that cannot varie.
Absence is present tyme doth carry.
. Wit Restord. 225.
By absence this good meane I gaine'
That I can catch her,
Where none can watch her,
In some close corner of my brain.
There I embrace her, and there kisse Ijer
And so enjoy her, and so misse her.
I
The Constant Lover.
Know as well as you, shee is not faire,
Nor hath she sparkling eyes or curled haire ;
Nor can shee brag of vertue or of truth,
Or any thing about her save her youth.
Shee is woman too, and to no End
I know, I verses write and letters send :
And nought I doe can to compassion move her
Al this I know, yet cannot choose but love her.
Yet am not blind aS you and others bee ;
Who think and sweare they littile Cupid see
Play in their Mistris eyes, and that there dwell
Roses on cheekeSj and that her brest excell
The whitest snow, as if that love were built
On fading red and white' the bodies quilt.
And that I cannot love unless I tell
Wherein or on what part my love doth dwell.
Vaine Hereticks you bee, for I love more
Then ever any did that told wherefore :
VOL. I. Q
226 IVii Restof'd.
Then trouble mee no more, nor tell mee why,
Tis ! because shee is shee, and I am I :
The Irish Beggar.
I Pray you save poore Irish knave,
A hone a hone
Round about the towne throughout
Is poore Shone gone,
Master to find,
Loving and kinde
But Shone to his mind's
Neare the neere,
Poore Shone can find none heere
Which makes him cry for feare,
A hone a hone.
Shone being poore, his feet being sore,
For which heele no more
Trot about,
To find Master out,
He had radir go without
And cry a hone,
I was so curst that I was forc't
A Jione a hone.
. Wii Restord. 227
To goe bare foot and strips to bopt
And no shooes, none,
None English could I speake,
My mind for to breake,
And many laught to heare the moane I made,
I like a tyred jade,
That had no worke or trade,
Cryed, a hone a hone.
In stead of breakfast,
Was faine runn a pace
To gett more stomach to my hungry throate,
And when for freind I sought.
They calld me all to nought,
A hone a hone.
For Ladyes sake some pitty take ;
A hone a hone.
I serVd a lasse where was no masse
No faith none ;
Oft was I beat 'cause Ide not eat,
On frydayes,. beefe and meat,
Twice a day.
And when I went to pray,
Tooke holy bead away ;
A hone a hone.
Make Church to go
Whether will or no
He dye, or I doe -so,
Grace a Christ,
Q2
228 Wit Restored,
Poor Shone loves Popish Preist,
Good Catholick thou seest.
A hone a hone.
Answer.
I prithee Shone make no more mone
For thy Mr lost.
I doe intend something to spend,
On Catholicks thus Crost.
Take this small guift,
And with it make a shift ;
And bee not thou bereft of thy minde,
Although hee be unkind ;
To leave thee thus behind
To cry a hone.
Buy thee some beere,
And then some good cheere,
There's nought for thee too deare ;
Whait ere ensue
Be constant still and true,
Thy country do not rue
Nor, cry a Jione.
Wit Restored. 229
Shone
Good shentry men that do intend
To helpe poore Shone at's need
Mine patron heer hath given mee beere
And meat whereon to feed,
Yea and money too
And so I hope that yoii,
Will do as he did do for my reliefe,
To ease my paine and greife ;
He eat no powdred beefe ;
What ere ensue
He keep my fast
^ - As in times past,
, And all my prayers and vowes I will renew
Cause friends I find but few,
Poore Shone will still prove true.
And so adieu.
A Question.
Ig,ske thee whence those ashes were
Which shrine themselves in plaits of haire ?
Unknown to me, sure each morne dyes
A Phoenix for a sacrifice.
I aske whence are those aires that flye
From birds in sweetest harmony ?
Unknown to me, but sure the choice
Of accents ecchoed from her voice.
230 Wit Resior'd.
I aske thee whence those active fires
Take light which glide through bumisht aire ?
Unknown to me, unlesse there flyes
A flash of lightning from her eyes.
I aske thee whence those ruddy bloomes
Pierce on her cheekes on scarlet gownes ?
Unknowne to me ? Sure that which flyes
From fading roses, her cheek dyes.
He ask thee of the lilly, whence
It gaind that type of innocence ?
Unknowne to me, sure natures decke
Was ravish'd from her snowie necke.
The R^ly.
ASke me no more, whither do stray
The golden atomes of the day ;
For in pure love, heaven did prepare
Those powders, to enrich your haire.
Aske me no more whither doth haste
The nightingal when summer's past ;
For in your sweet devided throat
She winters, and keepes warme her noate.
Wit Restored. 231
Aske me no more where those starres light
Which downewards stoop in dead of night ;
For in your eyes they sett, and there
Fixed become, as in their spheare.
Aske me no more where J^ove bestowes,
When J^une is past, the fading rose ;
For in your beauties Orient deep.
All flowers as in their bedds do sleep.
Aske me no more if East or West,
The Phcenix builds her spiced nest ;
F6r unto you at last she flyes,
And in your fragrant bosonle dyes:
The Mdck-Song.
I Tell you true, whereon doth light
The dusky shade of banisht night,
For, in just vengeance heavens allow
It still should shine upon your brow.
I tell you true where men may, seek
The sound wliich once the owle did shreek,
For in your false deviding throat
It lyes,. and death, is in its noate.
232 Wit Resfoi^d.
I tell you true whither do passe
The smiling look out of a glasse ;
It leapes into your face, for there
A falser shadow doth appeare.
lie tell you true whither are blown e
The airy wheeles of Thistle down,
They fly into your mind, whose care
Is to be light as. thistles are.
I tell you true within what nest .
The stranger Cuckoe's eggs do rest, ,
It is your bosome which can keepe
Nor him, nor him, where one should sleepe.
The Moderatix.
I Le tell, you where another sun
That setts, as riseing it begun.
It is my selfe who keepes one spheaxe
And were the same if men so were.
What need I tell, that life and death,
May passe in sentence from one breath ;
So issue from my equall heart
Both love and scorn for mens desert
Wit Restored. 233
He tell you in what heavenly hell
An Angell and a friend may dwell :
It is myne eye whose glassy book
Sends back the gazers divers look.
He tell you in a divers scale
One weight can up and downewards hale :
You call me thistle, you a rose ;
I neither am, yet both of those.
He tell you where both frost and fire
In peace of common seat conspire ;
My frozen brest that flint is like.
Yet yeilds a fire if you will strike.
Then you that love, and you that loath.
With one aspect I answer both ;
For round about me glowes a fire.
Can melt and harden grosse desire.
•■^n^ •^A^ *M* f*^y* *y^ •^a^ »'yy» *>A^ ^\jy *^jy* *\jv* "jy ^^a/* ^\jy* f^^y* >^jy
TAe affirmative answer.
OH no, heaven saw mens fancyes stray
To idolize but dust and clay ;
That embleme gave that they might see,
Your beautye's date but dust must bee.
234 Wit Restor' d.
No Philomel when summers gon
Hasts to the wood her rape to moane ;
(Unwilling hers) a shamd to see
Your (unlike hers) unchastity.
Oh no, those Starrs flye but the sight
Of what you act in dead of night,
A shamd themselves should Pandars prove
In your unsatiate beastly love.
Oh no, that rose when 'yune is past
Lpokes pale as with a poysonous blast ;
And such your beauty, when as time
Like winter shall oretake your prime.
Oh no the Phxnix shuns the place.
And feares the lustfuU fires t' embrace,
Of your hot brest and barren wombe.
As death or some perpetuall tombe.
A discourse between a Poet and a Painter,
Poet. T) Ainter, I prithee pencill to the life
-L The woman thou wouldst willingly call wife,
Fashion her from the head unto the heel.
So perfect that but gazing thou mayst feel
Pigmaleons passion : colour her faire haire,
Like amber, or to something else more rare.
Temper a white shall passe Pyrenean snow,
To raise her temples, and on it bestow
Wit Restored. 235
Such artificiall azure, that the Eye,.
May make the heart beleeve the marble skye^
To perfect her had melted in soft raines,
Lending a blew to brauuch her swelling veines
Then Painter, to come lower, her sweet chin,.
I would have small and white, not much trench'd in ;
Nor alltogether plain, but such an one
The nicest thought may judge equall to none.
Her nose I would have comely, not too high.
Though men call it, in Physiognomy,
A type of honour ; nor too low, for then
They'l say sha's known (God knowes) how many men ;
Nor broad, nor flat, that's the hardfavour'd mould :
Nor thin, nor sharp, for then they'te call her scold.
Apparrell it in such a speaking, grace,
That men may read Majesty in her falce.
Her lipps a paire of blushing twinnes so red,,
Nice fancy may depart away full fed.
But, Painter, when thou com'st, unto her eye,
There let thy Pencill play ; there cunningly
Expresse thy selfe, for as at feasts,, so here
The dainties I keep last to crown the cheer.
Make her eye Love's sweet argument, a look
That may discourse, make it a well writ book.
Whereas in faire set characters of art,
Men there may read the story of her heart.
Whiter than white, if you would pourtray ought,
Display her neck pure as the purest tiiought.
To make her gratious give her a broad brest
Topt with two milkie mountains ; down her chest.
236 Wti Restored.
Between those hills let Loves sweet vally lye,
The pleasing thraldome of a Love-sick eye.
Still, Painter, to fall lower paint her waste
Straight as the Cedar, or the Norway Mast,
To take a modest step, let men but guesse
By her neat foot a hidden handsomnesse.
Thus, Painter, I would have her in each part,
Remaine unmatcht by nature or by art.
Canst thou doe this ?
Painter. Yes, Sir, He draw a feature.
You shall conclude that art hath out-done nature,
The Pencill Sir, shall force you to confesse,
It can more lively than your pen expresse.
Poet. That by this then let me find.
To this body draw a mind ;
O Painter, to your pencill fall,
And draw me something rationall :
Give her thoughts, serious, secure,
Holy, chaste, religious,' pur^.
From vertue never known to start.
Make her an understanding heart.
Seat the Graces in her mind,
A well taught truth, a faith refin'd
From doubts and jelousies ; and give
Unto her heart a hope may live
Longer then time, untill it be
Perfected by Eternity.
Give her an honest loving mind.
Neither too coy, nor yet too kind :
Wit Restored. 237
But let her equall thoughts so raise her,
Loose thoughts may feare, and the chast praise her.
Then, Painter, next observe this rule,
A principle in Apelles Schoole ;
Leave not too much space between
Her tongue and heart, 'tis seldome seen
That such tell truth ; but let there be,
Between them both a sympathy :
For she whose tongue and heart keep even
In every syllable, courts heaven ;
If otherwise, this maxim know.
False above's not true below.
Thus mind and body let her be all over,
A golden text bound in a golden cover.
Canst thou doe this ?
Painter. But Sir, Ts't your intent
I should draw her in both parts excellent ?
Poet. It is.
Paint. Then in plain words, not in dark sense to
lurk.
Find you the woman ; and Tie fall to work.
To B. R. for her Bracelets.
1~*Is not (Deare Love) that Amber twist
Which circles round thy captive wrist.
Can have the power to make me more
Your pris'ner then I was before.
238 Wit Restored.
Though I that bracelet dearer hold,
Than Misers would a chaine of gold.
Yet this but tyes my outward part,
Heart-strings alone can tye my heart.
'Tis not that soft and silken wreath,
Your hands did unto mine bequeath ;
Can bind with halfe so powerfull charmes,
As the Embraces of your armes ;
Although not iron bands (my faire)
Can bind more fiercely than your haire.
Yet that will chaine me most will be,
Your heart in True Love's-knot to me.
Tis not those beams, your haires, nor all
Your glorious out-side doth me thrall ;
Although your lookes have force enough
To make the stateliest Tyrants bow :
Nor any angell could deny,
Your person his idolatry.
Yet I do not so much adore
The temple, but the goddesse more.
If then my soul you would confine
To prison, tye your heart to mine ;
Your noble vertues, constant love.
The only powerfull chaines will prove ;
To bind me ever, such as those
The hands of death shall ne're unloose.
Untill I such a prisoner be
No liberty can make me free.
Wti Restored. 239
On Tom Holland and Nell Cotton.
A Light young man lay with a lighter woman,
And did request their things might bee in common ;
And gave her (when her good will he had gotten,
A yard of Holland for an ell of Cotton.
A Welch-man.
JEnkin a welchman having suites in law
Joumying to London chance to steal a Cow ;
For which (pox on her luck as ere man saw)
Was burnt with in the fist, her know not how.
Being ask'd how well the case did with him stand
Wee's have her now (quoth J^enkin) in her hand.
•w* •^/v* vf *w *^B^ '^^ "^^ "^v '^v 'vfl/' '^A'' ^ft'' '^v* *^jy* 'yy* "^y
A Woman that scratcht her Husband.
A Woman lately fiercely did assail
Her husband with sharp speech, but sharper nail ;
On that stood by and saw her, to her sed
Why do you use him so ? he is your head.
He is my head (quoth she) indeed tis true,
I do but scratch my head, and so may you.
240 Wit Restord.
>^^£
A Mistris.
HEr for a Mistris, -would I faine enjoy,
That hangs the lipp and pouts for every toy :
Speakes like a wag, is bold, dares boldly stand
And bid love welcome with a wanton hand.
Laughs lowd, and for one blow will give you three
And when shee's stabbd, will fall a kissing me.
If shee be modest wise and chast of life.
Hang her shee's good for nothing but a wife.
One fighting with his wife.
MEg and her husband Tom, not long agoe.
Were at it close, exchanging blow for blow.
Both being eager, both of a stout heart,
Endured many a bang ere they would part.
Peter lookt on & would not stint the strife,
He's curst (quoth he) that parteth man and wife.
Wii Restor'd. 241
*^y f^fu* 9>ju* *M* %^ *\^ *yy» '^jy* *jy 'yv» ^^^ •^jy* "(A/* **m/* *jy* 'yv*
THe whistling windes me-thinkes do witnesse this,
No greif so great as to have liv'd in blisse.
Then only this poore plain soug .will I sing.
I was not borne, nor shall I dy^ a iKing.
To leape at honour is a, daungerous. case,
See but the gudgeons they will bite a pace.
Untill the fatall hook be swallowed downe.
Wherewith ambition angles for a ci;owiIe ,:
Then be content an(i let the baitp, passe by.
He hath enough jthat liveis contentedly.
But if thou must advancement have, then see
This is the way thoumust advanced be.
True temporizing is the m^anes to climbe
There is no musick without keeping time.
U/fon a Gardiner.
COuld he fo^et his death X that every houre
■\Yas emblem'd to it by the fading flowre :
Should he, not mind his end? yes neqds he must,
That still w^s conyensant 'mongs^ bedds.of dust.
Then let no on. .yon in an handcberchei: ■
Tempt yourjsad eyes unto a needlesse feare ;
If he, that thinkes on, -death welj live.s & dyes,
The gardnei sure is.gon..to para,d.is|i,.
VOL. I. R
242 IV it Restord.
On his first Love.
MY first love whom all beautyes did adorn
Fireing my heart, supprest it with her scorn;
And since like tynder in my heart it lyes*
By every sparkle made a sacrifice.
Each wanton eye now kindleth my desire
And that is firee to all which was entire.
For now my wandring thoughts are not confin'd
Unto one woman, but to woman-kind.
This for her shape I love, that for her face,
This for her gesture, or som other grace :
And somtlmes when 1 none of these can find,
I chuse her by the kernell not the rinde.
And so do hope though my cheife hope is gone
To find in many what I lost in one.
And like to merchants which have some great losse
Trade by retayle which cannot do in grosse.
She is in fault, which caus'd me first to stray
Needs must he wander, who hath lost his way ;
Guiltlesse I am, she did the change provoke.
Which made that charcole which at first was oka
For as a looking glasse to the aspect,
Whilst it was whole doth but one face reflect ;
But cract or broak in peeces, there is showne
Many lesse faces, where was first but one.
Wit Restored. 243
So love unto my heart did first preferre
Her image, and there planted none but her :
But when twas crackt & martyrd by her scorne
Many lesse faces in her seat were borne,
Thus like to tinder I am prone to catch
Each falling sparkle, fit for any match.
To his Mistris.
I Will not doe sacrifice
To thy face, or to thy eyes
Nor unto thy lilly palme
Nor thy breath that wounding balme ;
But the part
To which my heart
In vowes is sealed,
Is that mine
Of blisse divine
Which is concealed.
Whats the golden fruit to me
So I may not shake the tree ?
What's that golden architecture
If I may not touch the nectar ?
Bare enjoying all the rest
Is but like a golden feast,
Which at need, '
Can never feed
R 2
,244 - Wit Jiestor'd.
Our loye sick-wishes
' Let me eate •
' • SubaUntiall meat,.
■ ' ' Not view the dishes.
^^C %0^ *^u* ^^^ \Dk* %0^ ^4^ %C^ ^d^ %Q^ %0^ %0^ %C^ ^^* %V* '^iV*
2^^ ^M /i?//^r.
FLy paper, kisse those hands
Whence I am bard of late :
She quickly will unloose thy' bands,
wish me thine estate.
Appeare unto her eyes
Though they do bume to fumes :
For happy is the sacrifice,
Which heaven-fire consumes.
Yet ev'n with this depart
With a soft dying breath,
Whisper the truths into her heart.
And take them on thy death.
Tell her thou canst not now
New oathes or give or take,
Or to repeat the fonpe? vow
Wee did each other make.
Wii^ Restored. 245
Say thou cam'st to complain
But not of love, nor her
But on my fortune being fame
Thus absent to conferre.
When thou hast offer'd this ■ ,
. I ' Porhaps then, for; thy payne, .
She will impart to thee a'kisse
And read the ore againe..
Perhaps' when form ihy sake, ■ ' -
HS^lipps have itiade ihee blest,
That'so embalmd thee, she will make
Thy grave within her brest
Oh never then desire
To rise from such a roome :
Who would not leave his life t'aspire
In death to such a tombe.
'And ini these joyes excesse, i, ,•/, ■, ,
Melt, languish,; faint, and dye ;
For might I have so good accesse
To her, ev'n so would I.
246 Wii Restord.
An Epitaph upon Hurry the Taylor.
Within this tombe is honest Hurry layd,
Who in good fashion Hv'd, good fashion dy'd.
T'is strange that death so soon cut off his thread
Som say his end not full done, he was dead.
But here the knot is, and I thus it scann
He took a yard, whose due was but a spann.
How ere hee's happy, and I know fiiU well
He's now in heaven since here he had his hell.
Scylla toothlesse.
SCylla is toouthlesse ; yet when she was young.
She had both tooth enough, and too much tongue :
What should I now of toothlesse Scylla say ?
But that her tongue hath wome her teeth away.
A Vicar.
AN honest Vicar riding by the way,
Not knowing better how to spend the day
Did sing unto himself Genevaes psalmes ;
A blind man hearing him straight askt an almes
Wit Restored. 247
To whom (quoth he) with coine I cannot part,
But god bless thee good man with all my heart,
O said the man the greater is my losse,
When such as you do blesse without a crosse.
"jy* *\jy '^jy* f^jy* ^\jy f^y* f^jy •yy» ^\jy "^jy ^\jy* '^^* "V^ *>£•• 'yv' '^jy*
On a Ribband.
THis silken wreath that circles-in my arms
Is but an emblem of your mystick charmes ;
Wherewith the magick of your beauty binds
My Captive soule, and round about it winds ;
Time may weare out these soft weak bands, but those :
Strong chaines of brasse fate shall not discompose
This holy relique may preserve my wrist,
But my whole frame by th'other doth subsist :
To that my prayers and sacrifice, to this
I only pay a superstitious kisse.
This but the idoU, that the deity ;
Religion there is due, here ceremony.
That I receive by faith, this but in trust ;
Here I may tender duty, there I must :
This other like a layman I may bear
But I become loves preist when that I weare ; '
This moves like a3T:e, that as the center stands.
That knot your vertue tyes, this but your hands.
That nature fram'd, but this is made by art
This makes my arme your prisoner, that my heart.
248 Wit Res ford.
7<? « Gentlewoman, desiritpg a copie of Verses.
FAire Madam, cast those Diamonds away,
What need their torchlight in so bright a day :
These show within your beauties glorious noon
No more than spangles fixed in the moon :
Such Jewells then the truest lustre beare
When they hang danglitig in an JE.thiofs eare
But placed neere a beauty, thats so bright
Like starres in day-time they are lost from sight
In this you do your sex a great abuse.
These are not pretious stemmes for womens use.
Nature to men hath better Jewells sent,
Which serve for active use not ornament
Then let us make exchange, since that those be
Fitter for you, and these more fit for me.
*^Ar« <yy» •\jD^ '^J^* *^i^' ^(^^ *wflt" ^jv* •^^* *^fl^ ^^^ '>a/* •^v* ^^» %^* ^^*
On Dr. Corbet fs Marriage.
COme all yee Muses and rejoyce,
At our Apolloes^ happy choice.
Phm'bus has conquer'd Cupids charme,
Fair Daphne flyes into his arme.
If Daphne be a tree, then marke,
Apollo is become the barke.
Wti Restored. 249
If Daphne be a branch of bay,
He weares her for a crowne to day :
O happy bridegrdme which dost wed
Thy selfe -unto a -virgins bed. ,
Let thy Ibve burne vidth hot desire,
Shelackes no Oyle, to feed the fire.
You know not poore Pigmaleons lot
Nor have you ameere idoll got.
You no Ixion, you' no' prGild
Juno makes ;imbrac^ a cloud.
Looke bow pure Z??a*f^/- skin
Appeares as itisshadO*'d in
A crystall streame ; or looke what grace,
Shines in^ fair Venus lovely ' face j
Whilst She Adonis, Courts and woes
Suchbeautyes^ yea and more than fhose,
Spalrkle in her ; see but 'her, soul,
And you will judge. those b^autyes' foul.
Her rarest beautye is -within,
She's fairest where she is 'not seen ;'
Now her perfection's character
You have approy'dand';chosen her. ■■ /
' Oh precious she 1 -at this weddiUgy i
The Jewell weares the marriage ring.
Her understanding's deep, like the
Venetian Z>uke yowvfedd the sea, • .
A sea deep, bottomelesse, profound,
And which none but your selfe may sound.
Blind Cupid shot not this love^dart.
Your reason chose, and not your heart ;
250 Wit Restord.
You knew her little, and when her
Apron was but a muckender,
When that same Corrall which doth deck
Her lippes, she wore about her neck :
You courted her, you woed her not
Out of a window ; shee was got,
And borne your wife ; it may be se'd,
Her cradle was her marriadge bed.
The ring too was layd up for it
Untill her finger was growne fit ;
You once gave her to play withall
A babie, and I hope you shall
This day your auncient guift renew,
So she will do the same for you :
In Virgin wax imprint upon
Her brest your owne impression,
You may (there is no treason in't,)
Coine sterling, now you have a mint. .
You now are stronger than before,
Your side hath in it on ribb more.
Before she was a kin to me
Only in soul and amity.
But now wee are, since shee your bride,
In soul and bodye both allyde.
T'is this hath made me lesse to doe.
And I in one can honour two.
This match a riddle may be styld,
Two mothers now have but on child ;
Yet need we not a Salomon
Each mother here enjoyes her owne.
Wit Restored. 251
Many there are I know have try'd,
To make her their owne lovely bride ;
But it is Alexanders lot,
To cut in twaine the Gordian knot :
Claudia to prove that she was chast,
Tyed but a girdle to her wast ;
And drew a ship to Rome by land
But now the world may understand ;
Here is a Claudia to faire bride,
Thy spotlesse innocence is tryed.
None but thy girdle could have led.
Our Corbet to a marriage bed.
Come all ye muses and rejoyce.
At this your nursling's happy choyce :
Come Flora straw the bridemayds bed
And with a garden crowne her head,
Or if thy flowers be to seek,
Come gather roses at her cheek.
Come Hymen light thy torches, let
Thy bed with tapers be beset.
And if there be no fire by,
Come light thy taper at her eye,
In that bright eye there dwells a starre.
And wisemen by it guided are.
In those delicious eyes there be.
Two little balls of ivory ;
How happy is he then-that may
With these two dainty balls goe play.
Let not a teare drop from that eye
Unlesse for very joy to cry.
252 Wit Res tor' d.
O let your joy continue ; may
A whole age be your w^dding'day.
O happy virgin, it is trae,
That your' deare spouse erabraceth you,
Then you from heaven are not farre,
But sure in Abrahams bosome are,
Come all ye muses ahd rejoyce
At our Apollo's happy choice.
Mart : Epigr. 59 lib: 5.
THoul't mend to morrow, thus thou still tell'st me,
Faine would I know but this, when that will be ?
Where might a man that bliss-full morning finde.
In vast Armenia, or in utmost Inde ?
This morning comes as slow as Platoes yeare,
What might this morning cost (for sure tis deare ?)
Thoul't mend to morrow : Now's too late ; I say
He's only wise that mended yesterday.
Wit Restored.
253
"ify* '\Af* %B^* %^* ^jc^ ^'jy* %o^ ^iv ^jE^ ^jv* ^iv* ^^* ^A/* ^^» ^A/* *\ji/»
/« Richdrdum quendam, Divitem, A varum.
DEvising on a time what name I might
Best give unto a dry illiberall chuife,
After long search on his owne name I light,
Nay then (said I) No more, I have enough ;
His name and nature do full well agree
For's name is Rich and hard; and so is he.
In Tkomam quendam- Catharum.
THomas the puritaii,. cannot abide
The name of Christmas, Candlemas, or. such
But . calls them ever Christide, . Candletide,
. At all to name the .masse (forsooth), to much :
Thomas by this your rule the sacred font
In Baptisni must be-wash your limmes againe.
And a new name you must receive upon't
For superstitious Thomas youl disdaiiie.
Then might I be your godsire, or his guide.
Instead of Thomas you shall have Tom-tyde.
2 54 Wit Restored.
^M* ^\A/* ^j^* ^£^* "st^ '"'lii/* "Ji/* ^>jy* ^'ijiy* ^^jy* ^'jy* '\^* *\cu' %o^ ^^* %^
Epilogus Incerti Authoris.
Like to the mowing tone of unspoke speeches,
Or like two lobsters clad in logick breeches ;
Or like the gray fleece of a crimson catt,
Or like a moone-calfe in a slippshoo hatt ;
Or like the shaddow when the sunne is gone,
Or like a thought, that nev'r was thought upon,
Even such is man who never was begotten,
UntiU his children were both dead and rotten.
Like to the fiery touch-hole of a cabbage,
Or like a crablowse with his bag and baggage.
Or like the guilt reflection of the winde.
Or like th' abortive issue borne behind.
Or like the four square circle of a ring.
Or like high downe a ding a ding a ding.
Even such is man who breathlesse without doubt
Spake to small purpose when his tongue was out.
Like the fresh colours of a withered Rose
Or like a running verse that's writ in prose.
Or like the unfibles of a tynder box:.
Or like a sound man, troubled with the pox.
Or like to hobbnayles coyn'd in single pence.
Lest they should lose their preterperfect-tence
Ev'n such is man who dyed, and yet did laugh.
To read these strong lines for his Epitaph.
THE
INNOVATION
OF
PENELOPE
AND
V LYSSES,
A Mock-Poem.
By 7. S.
LONDON;
Printed Anno Dom. 1658.
The Epistle Dedicatory
to the Reader^
{Oufteous Reader, I had not gone my full
time, when by a sudden flight occasioned
by the Beare and Wheel-barrow on the
Bank-side, I fell in travalle, and there-
fore cannot call this, a timely Issue, but a Mischance,
which I must put out to the world to nurse ; hoping it
will be fostered with the greater care, because of its
own innocency. The reasons why the Dedication is
so generall, is to avoid Carps in the Fishpond of this
world, for now no man may reade it, but must
patronize it.
And must protect what he would greet perchance,
If he were not the Patron with def-iance.
You see here I have much adoe to hold in my muse
from her jumping meeter : 'tis time to let slip. For
VOL. I. S
258 The Epistle to the Reader.
as the cunning statuarist did by Alcides foot guesse
at the proportion of his whole body, so doe I forbeare
the application of this Simile and rest,
Yours ever.
7. S.
To his Worthy Friend Mr. y. S.
upon his happy Innovation oi Penelope dind.
Vlysses.
IT was no idlefancie, I beheld
A reall obied, that, around did ^Id
The neighbouring vallies and the mou7itaine tops.
That sided to Parnassus, with the drops
From her disheveld hay re. I sought the cause.
And loe, she had her dwelling in thejawes
Of pearly Helicon, assigned to bee
Guide ore the Comick straynes of poetry.
She lowr'd her flight, and soone assembled all,
That since old Chaucer had tane leave.to call.
Upon her name in print : But O the rabble
Of pamphleteers even from the court toth' stable,
Knights, and discarded Captaines, with the scribes-
Famous in water-works, besides the tribe
Of the true poets, they attended on
The birth of this great Convocation.
Sacred Thalia, in an angrie heat
That well became h^ zeale, rose from her seat;
And beckoning for silence, there disclaym'd.
Protection of the poets, and then nam'd
s 2
26o Wit Res ford.
The cause of her revoke, for that (quoth she)
So many panders 'long to poetry :
A crue of Scriblers that with brazen face
Prostitute art and niorke unto disgrace
My patronage, each calling out on mee
For midwife to his bastard progenie.
Thus standing as protectresse of that brood
My car is ill construed by the sister-hood.
With that she paused a while, and gland st her eye
Amongst the mingled pen-wrights, to descrie
One to distinguish by a different style,
Dull Latmus from Diviner Pindus soyle.
At length shefuxft on thee, and then anon
Proclaym'd the her selected champion.
Then was this worke presented to h^ eare.
_She smiled at it, and was pleas' d to heare
Dunces so well tradudd; and by this rule,
Discoverd all that nere were of the schoole
Of noble poesie, and them she threw
Farrefrom her care and her acquantance too ;
Thus were they found and lost, and this the test.
They writ in earnest whafs here meant in jest.
James Atkins.
Wit Restor'd. 261
To his Precious Friend y. S.
upon his choyse conceipt of Penelope and
Ulysses.
LOng-looKt for comes at last ; twas sayd of aide,
I'le use the proverb ; herein I am bold :
For if the ancient Poets don't belie us
Nihil jam dictum quod non dictum prius :
But let thai passe : the thing I would intend,
With my unpolist lines, is to commend
A worke that may to an ingenious eare
Be its owne orator ; for nothing here.
But gratis this stupid age, wherein each mate
That can but ryme, is poet laureat.
It is the scorne of time, and for my part
That at the best am but afreind to art ;
My senses ake to heare the cry advance
And dote upon the workes of ignorance;
Letfooles admire folly : while I thee
That into pastime tum'st their poetrie.
262 Wii Res tor' d.
To his Sonne, upon his Minerva.
THou art my son, in that my choyse is spoke ;
Thine with thy fathers muse strikes equcLll stroke,
It shewd more art in Virgil to relate.
And make it worth th' heareing, his Gnats fate;
Then to conceive what those great mindes must he
That sought and found out fruitfull Italie.
And such as read and do not apprehend
And with applause the purpose and the end
Of this neat Poem, in themselves confesse
A dull stupiditie and barrennesse.
Methinks I do behold in this rare birth
A temple built up to facetious mirth,
Pleasd Phoebus smiling on it; doubt not then.
But that the suffrage ofjuditious men
Will honour this Thalia; and for those
That praise Sr. Bevis, or whats worse in prose.
Let them dwell still in ignorance. To write
In a new strain, and from it raise delight
As thou in this hast done, doth not by chance
But merit, crowne thee with the laurell branch.
Phillip Massenger.
Wii Restored. 263
To his Deare Friend Mr. J. S.
upon his quaint Innovation of Penelope and
Ulysses,
FZy, Fly my muse, this is the tyme if ever
To try thy wings, now sore aloft or never;
Importune fame, for 'tis her hand must owe
A glory to this temple. Bid her blow.
Till her lungs crack, and call the world to see
A worke that else will i'-ts owne truMpetbe.
t would not have the squeamish Age tojeare
Or slight my muse for brining up the reare:
Mor let the garish rabble looke a squint,
As though I were one of their tribe in pHtit :
It is a Trust that fitly does become
My maichlesse freindship to have such a 2iome
For know no vulgar pen could ever glory
To be the Master of so choise a story.
Blush, Blush, for shame, yee wood-be-poets all.
Here see your faces, let this glasse recall
Your faults to your remembrance, numbers, ryfn
Your long parentheses, and verse that clime
Up to the elbow ; here you may descry
Such stuffe as weaker wits call poetry :
From henceforth let no pedlin^ riniers dare
Frophane Thalias alters with such wcCre.
For which great cure, this booke unto thy name
'Shallbe a trophy of immorfall fame,
y. M.
264 Wt^ Restored.
The Author to the Author.
To his worthy Friend J , S.
upon his happy Translation of Ulysses and
Penelope,
LEtjoy possesse the universall Globcy
The worke is donne, bright Sol is in his robe^
Let time and nature breathe, and let the arts,
Pause here a while, they have perform' d their parts:
And as a Man, that from the Alpes doth fall
Being in drinke,, and has no hurt at all :
When afterwards hee has considerd welly
And vievifd the Altitudeyfrom whence hee fell,.
When in his sober thoughts hee has the hint on'f
It frights him more then, ta endure the dint on't;
Even so our Author, when hte veiwes aright
What time and industry have brought to light.
May more be troubled both in Mind and Wit,
To thinke what's donne, then in the doing it.
If at the spring and Birth-day of Glendour,
Whom storyes treat of for a Man and more,
Wit RestoT'd. 265
Jfthen I say there was such notice taken,
That Wales and all her Mountaniers were shaken.
What Alta-ation must there needes be now,
To usher in thine Issue I who knowes how
To f adorn thought, or tye the star res in strings ?
Siich must his learning be that kens these things.
Me-thinks the spheares should falter, and the sage
Should from this time reckon another age.
Gossips shall make it famous. It shall bee
The common Meatpole to Posterity :
The time of Edmonds and of Gertrade's birth,
Was three y ear es after such a worke came forth,
Then wets the great eclipse, and that the time
When this Mans Granfather was in his prime;
Hackster the Back-sword-man then broke his Arme,
That year e old Honyman his Bees did swarme.
And if Iguesse aright, b^an that year e
The Hollanders Plantation in York-shire.
Thus shah all Accidents be brought about.
And this the onely time to find em out.
Men did of old count from the dayes of Adam,
And Eve the spinster (no newes then of Madam,)
Some from Diana's Temple, that rarepeece.
Some from the stealing of the Golden fleece;
From moderne Matters som their Reckoning make
From the great voyage of %c: Francis Drake,
Other's from 88, and some there are
TTiat count from britiging of the Brook from Ware.
But all these things shall be abolish' d quite.
And no Man now shall c^ehend delight,
266 WU Restoi^d.
To have a sonne a daughter or a neece,
Their age not dated with this master-peece.
More I would say, much more ; hut that I fear
My liberall commendations would appeare
Like to the Gates of Thebes, where all, and spme,
Fear' d lest thecifty should run out at 'urn,
S-uch may my error be, whilst here I sing.
Great Neptunes Anthems, to salute a spring.
But such a spring, as all that ere have scene it
Confesse theresnougkt but spirit of waters in it.
And here let me excuse that prity Elfe
Thy froward Muse that left thee to thy selfe;
Whom thou upbraidsffo'r that; which I. replye.
Was nought but Advantagious Policy ;
T'was agood Omen itrhen she backward went
That she would arme her selfe with double hint
And so shee did, they I say, that doe peruse ore
This seeming pamphlet which anon ensues your
Loving Friend.
■7-S.
Wit Restord.
267
The Author to himselfe.
High as the Alpes my towring muse dos wing it.
To snach the laurell from fames fane, &= fling it
Even at thy crowne, thy crowne; where may it sit,
Till time it selfe, being non-plu^d, wither it.
Each stroake that herein of thy pen made proof ,
Is like the stamp of Pegasus his hoof,
And does uncurtaine where does sit and sing,
The Heliconians, round about the spring.
I wish the world this pamphlet had not seene.
Or having veiw'd it, it had faulty been.
Then might I still have lov'd thee, cruellfate
Has made the now the object of my hate :
For envy f cedes on merit, but believe mee,
I love thy person, though thy worth does grieve me.
I. S.
Wti Restored. 269
The Preface to that most elaborate piece of Poetry, entituled
Penelope and Ulysses.
NO, I protest, not that I wish the gaines
To spoile the trade of mercenary braines,
I am indifferently bent, so, so.
Whether I ever sell my workes or no.
Nor was't my aime when I took pen in fingers,
To take imployment from the BaUad-singers j
Nor none of these : But on a gloomy day.
My genius stept to me, and thus gan say ;
Listen to me, I give you information,
This History deserves a grave translation ;
And if comparisons be free from slanders,
I say, as well as Hero and Leanders.
This said, I took my chaire, in colours wrought,
Which at an outcry, with two stooles I bought.
The stooles of Dornix, which that you may know well
Are certain stuffs. Upholsters use to sell.
Stuffs, said I ? No : some Linsey-Wolseymonger mixt them.
They were not Stuff nor Cloth sure, but betwixt them.
The Ward I bought them in, it was without
Hight Faringdon, and there a greasie lout
Bid for them shillings six, but I bid seven,
A summe that is accounted odd, not eeven :
The Cryer thereat seemed to be willing.
Quoth he, there's no man better then seven shilling.
He thought it was a reasonable price.
So struck upon the Table, once, twice, thrice,
270 'Wit Restored.
My Pen in one hand, Pen-knife in the other,
My Ink was good, my Paper was no other.
So sat me down, being with sadnesse moved,
To sing this new Song, sung of old by Ovid.
But would you think, as I was thus preparing.
All in a readinesse, here and there staring
To find my implements, that th' untoward Elfe,
My Muse, should steal away, andhidaher aelfe.
Just so it was, faith, neither worse nor better.
Away she run, er'e I had writ a Letter.
I after her a pace, and beat the Bushes,
Rank Grasse, Firrs, Ferne, and the tall Banks, of Rushes
At last I found my Muse, and wot you.what,,
I put her up, for lo she was at squat.
Thou slut quoth I, hadst.thou not run away,
I had made Verses all this live-long day..
But in good sooth, o're much I durst not chide her,
Lest she should run away, and hide her
But when my heat was o're I spake thus to her ;
Why did'st thou play the wag ? I'm very sure.
I have commended thee, above old Chaucer;
And in a Tavern once I had a Sawcer
Of White-wine Vinegar, dasht in my face, ,
For saying thou deservedst a better grace :.
Thou knowst that then I took a Sawsedge up.
Upon the knaves face it gave such a clap,
That he repented him that he had spoken
Against thy Fame, he struck by the same token.
I oft have sung thy Meeters, and sometimes,
I laught to set on others at thy, rimes,
When that my Muse considered had this geare.
She sigh'd so sore, it griev'd my heart to heare,
Wit Restored. 271
She said she had done ill, and was not blameless,
And Polyhytnney, (one that shal be namelesse, ,
Was present when she spoke it) and before her,
My Muses lamentation was the soarer.
And then to shew she was not quite unkinde,
She sounded out these strong lines of her minde.
THE
INNOVATION
OF
Vlysses and Penelope.
OAU ye (i) Clip tick Spirits of the Sphseres
That have ot (i) seilse to hear Ot (3) uSe of feares,
And you in number (4) twelve Caelestiall SigneS
That Poets have made use of in their lines,
And by which men doe know what Seasons good
To gueld their Bore-piggs, and let Horses blood ;
List to my doleful! glee, 6 (5) list I Say,
Unto the Complaint of Penelopay,
She w^s a Lover, I, and so was hee
As loving unto her, and he to (6) she ;
(l.) The harder the word is, the easier it is to be understood.
(2.) (3.) In varying the use of the senses, the Author shewes himselfe to
be in his wits.
(4.) There the Author shewes himselfe to be well versed in the
Almanack.
(5.) Being twice repeated, it argues an elegant fancy in the Poet.
(5) To make false English, argues as much knowledge as to make true
latin.
VOL. I. T
2/4 Wit Restot^d.
But mark how things were alter'd in a moment
Ulysses was a Grsecian bom, I so meant
To have inform'd you first, but since 't is or'e.
It is as (7) well, as had it been before :
He being as I said, a Greek there rose
A Quarrell 'twixt the Trojans and their (8) foes,
I mean the Grsecians, whereof he was (9) one.
But let that pass, he was Laertes Sonne.
Yet least some of the difference be ig-norant,
It was about a (i) Wench, you may hear more (2) on't
In Virgils JEneids, and in Horner too ;
How Farts lov'd her, and no more adoe
But goes and steales her from her Husband : wherefore
The Grsecians took their Tooles, and.fighted therefore.
And that you may perceive they were stout (3)
Signiors, .
The Combat lasted for the space often (4) years.
This Gallant bideing where full many a Mother
Is oft bereaVd of Child, Sister of Brothe,
His Lady greatly longing for his presence
(5) Writ him a Letter, whereof this the Sense.
(7.) Better once done then never.
(8.) For sometimes there may happen a quarrell amongst friends.
(g.) Till he was married, he could be but one,
(I.) There is no mischiefe, but a woman is at one end of it.
(2.) The more you heare on't, the worse you'l like it.
(3.) There was a Spanish regiment amongst them.
(4.) That may be done in an houre, which we may repent all our life
after.
(5.) Being up to the Elbowes in trouble, she expressed it in this
line.
Wit Restord. 275
" My pretty Duck, my Pigsnie, my Ulysses,
" Thy poor Peneldpe sends a (6) thousand Kisses
" As to her only Joy, a hearty 'g'reetingj
" Wishing thy Company, but not thy meeting
" With enemies, and'fiery Spirits in Armour,
" And which perck'ance may do thy bedy harme-or
" May take thee Pisoner, and clap ofi thee bolts
''^ And locks upon thy legges\ such as weare Colts.
" But send me word, and ^re that thou want ransome
" Being a man so comely, and so handsome,
" lie sell my 'Smocke both from my backe and (7) belly
'^ E'reyou want Money, Meat, or Cloathes, I tell yee.
When that Ulysses, all in grief enveloped,
Had markt how right this Letter was Peneloped.
Laid one hand on his heart, and said 't was guilty.
Resting the other on his Dagger-hilty,
Thus gan to speaker O thou that dost controule
All beauties else, thou hast so bang'd my soule
With this thy lamentation, that I sweare,
I love thee strangely, without wit or fear ;
I could have wish'd (quoth he,) my selfe the Paper
lake, Standish, Sandbox, or the burning Taper,
That were the Instruments of this thy writeing
Or else the Stool whereon thou safst inditing :
And so might have bin neer that lovely breech
That never yet was troubled with the (8) Itch.
'(6.) Even Reckoning, makes long friends.
(7.) As a pudding ha's two ends, so a smock ha's two sides.
(8.) As Love doth commonly break out into an iteh, yet with her it did
not so.
T 2
276 Wit Restord.
And with the thought of that, his Sorrow doubled
His heart with wo, was so CufiPd and Cornubled,
That he approv'd one of his Ladyes Verses,
(The which my Author in his booke rehearses)
'Tis true quoth he, (9) Loves troubles make me tamer.
Res est Soliciti plena timoris Amor.
This said, he blam'd liimselfe, and chid his folly
For being so ore-rul'd with melanchoUy,
He call'd himself. Fool, Coxecombe, Asse, and Fop,
And many a scurvy name he reckon'd up,
But to himself, this language was too rough,
For certainly the Man had wit enough :
For he resolves to leave his Trojan foes.
And go to see his Love in his best Cloaths.
But marke how he was cross'd in his intent,
His friends suspected him incontinent :
And some of them suppos'd he was in love.
Because his eyes all in his head did move.
Or more or less then used, I know not which
But I am sure they did not move so mich
As they were wont to doe : and then 'twas blasted.
Ulysses was in love, and whilst that lasted
No other newes within the Camp was spoke of.
And many did suppose the Match was broke ofif.
But he conceal'd himself, nor was o're hasty
To shift his Cloaths, though now grown somewhat nasty.
But having wash'd his hands in Pewter Bason,
Determines for to get a Girle or a Son,
{9.) There the Author translates out of Ovid, as Ben Johnson do's in
Sejanus out of Homer.
Wit Restord. 277
On fair Penelope, for he look'd trimmer
Then young Leander when he learn'd his (i) Primer,
To Grsece he wends apace, for all his hope
Was only now to see fair Paielope :
She kemb'd her head, and wash'd her face in Creame
And pinch'd her cheeks to make the (2) redde bloud
stream
She don'd new cloaths, and sent the old ones packing,
And had her shoes rub'd over with Lamp (3) blacking,
Her new rebato, and a falling band,
And Rings with severall poesies on her hand.
A stomacher upon her breast so bare.
For Strips and Gorgets was not then the weare.
She thus adorn'd to meet her youthful! Lover
Heard by a Post-boy, he was new come over :
She then prepares a banquet very neat
(4) Yet there was not a bit of Butchers meat
But Pyes, and Capons, Rabbits, Larkes, and Fruit ;
Orion on a Dolphin, with his (5) Harpe,
And in the midst- of all these dishes stood
A platter of Pease-porridg, wondrous good,
And next to that the god of Love was plac'd,
His Image being made out of Rye-paste,
(I.) By this you may perceive, that primers were first printed at
Abidos.
(2.) For distinction sake, because many mens noses bleed white
blood.
(3.) Black is the beauty of the shoe.
(4.) Because a Cow, was amongst the ancient Grecians called a Neat,
Gesner in his Etymolog. lib. 103. Tom 16.
(5.) Better falsifye the Rime, then the Story, &c.
278 WitRestor'd.
To make that good, which the old .Proverb speaks
[The one the Heart, 'tother the belly breaks.]
Ulysses seeing himself a welcome' Guest
Resolves to have some Fidlers at the Feast :
And 'mongst the various Consort choosing them
That in their sleeves the armes-of Agamefn-
Non, in the next verse, wore : Cr/d in a rage
Sing me some Song made in the Iron-Age.
The Iron-Age, quoth he that used to sing?
This to my mind the Black-Smith's Song doth bring
The Black-Smiths, quoth Uiisses ? and there hoUoweth,
Whoope ! is there such a Song ? Let's ha't. It foUoweth,
The Black-Smith.
As it was sung before Ulysses and Penelope at their Feast,
when he returned from their Trojan Warrs, collected out of
Homer, Virgill and Ovid, by some of the Modern Familie
of the Fancies.
OF all the trades that ever I see.
There's none with the Blacksmith compar'd may be,
With so many severall tooles workes hee
Which Nobody can deny.
The first that ever thunderbolt made.
Was a Cyclops of the BlacksmitJu trade.
As in a learned author is sayd,
Which Nobody, &^c.
Wii Restored. 279.
When Thunderjngly we l9.y about
The fire like lightening flasheth. out ;
Which suddainly >vith water wee .d'put
WMch No, &=€
The fayrest Godesse in the skyes
To marry with Vulcan did devise, -. 1 .. i'
Which was a Blacksmith giscvQ and. wise j ,;,/ ,-,
Which, Gfc.
Mulciber to do her all right
Did build her a Towne by day. and by night,
Which afterwards' he- Hammersmith hight
Which, dt'c.
And that no Enemy might wrong her
Hee gave her Fort she need no stronger, ,
Then is the lane of Ironmonger,
WMch, &'c.
Vulcan feirther did acqiiaint-,her.
That a pritty estate he would appoynt her,
And leave, her Seacoale-lan«i'for g^joyiiture.
Which, dfc.
Smithfeild he did &e$ from dirt,
And he had sure great reason for!t.
It stood very neare^to %enUs, court | ^^Jj"^"^^
But after in good time, and tide,
It was to the Blachsmiths rtcttfy:!^d, ,
And given'em' \iy.iE-dniotid:Ir.Qmid.e, _
Which, dfc.
Which, 6fc,
28o Wit Res tor' d.
At last * he made a Nett or traine, * Vulcan.
In which the God of warre was t'ane,
Which ever since was call'd Pauls-chaine
Which, &-C.
The common proverb, as it is read,
That we should hit the nayle o'the head :
Without the Blacksmith cannot be said,
Which. (Sr'c.
There is another must not be forgot
Which falls unto the Blacksmiths lot.
That we should strike while the I'rons hott,
Which, 6fc.
A third lyes in the Blacksmiths way
When things are safe as old-wives say,
They have 'em under lock and key,
Which, ^'c.
Another proverb makes me laugh
Because the Smith can challenge but halfe ;
When things are as Plaine as a Pike stafife,
Which, (Sfc.
But'tother halfe to him does belong ;
And therefore, do the Smith no wrong.
When one is held to it hard, buckle and thong.
Which, iSr'c.
Then there is a whole one proper and fit
And the Blacksmith's justice is seene in it.
When you give a man rostmeat and beat him with spitt,
Which, ^'C.
Wit Res lord. 281
A nother proverb does seldome fayle,
When you meet with naughty beere or ale,
You cry it is as dead as a dore nayle,
Which, &-€.
If you stick to one when fortunes wheele
Doth make him many losses feele
We say such a friend is as true as Steele.
Which &'C,
Ther's one that's in the Blacksmith's bookes,
And from him alone for remedy lookes.
And that is he that is offo'the hookes.
Which, di^c.
Ther's ner'a slutt, if filth over-smutch her
But owes to the Blacksmith for her leatcher :
For without a payre of tongs no man will touch her
Which, dfc.
There is a lawe in merry England
In which the Smith has some command
When any one is burnt in the hand ;
Banbury ale a halfe-yard-pott,
The Devill a Tinker dares stand to't ;
If once the tost be hizzing-hott.
Which, 6-f.
Which, &'c.
If any Taylor has the Itch,
Your Blacksmith's water, as black as pitch.
Will make his fingers goe thorow-stitch.
Which, dfc.
282 Wit Restor'd.
A Sullen-woman needs no leech,
Your Blacksmiths Bellowes restores her speech
And will fetch her againe with wind in her Breech.
Which, &"€.
Your snuffling Puritans do surmise,
That without the Blacksmith's mysteries,
St: Peter had never gotten his, keyes,
, . , Which every one can deny,
And further more there are of those
That without the Blacksmiths help do suppose
St: Du7istan had never tane the Divel by the nose
Which Nobody can deny.
And though they are so- rigid, andj nice , ,
And rayle against Drabs, and Drinke, and Dice
Yet they do allowe the Blacksmith,\ns vice
Which, &c.
Now when so many Haeresies fly about,
And every sect growes still more in doubt
The Blacksmith he is hanimering.it cut,
Which, &C.
Though Serjeants at law grow richer far,
And with long pleading a good cause can marr
Yet your Blacksmith takes more pains at the Barr,
Which, &c.
And though he has no Commander's look
Nor can brag of those he hath Slayn and took,
Yet he is as good as ever strooke.
Which, &c.
Wit Restored. 283
For though he- does lay on many a blow
It mines neither freind nor foe ;
Would our plundering-SQuldiers had don so,
J ... Which every one can deny.
Though Bankrupts lye lurking in their holes
And laugh at their Creditors,, ,an.d catchp<?les, :
Yet your Smith can fetch, ejn over the cpaj,es.
Which Nobody can deny.
Our lawes do punish severely still,
Such as counterfit;^deed, bond, or bill,
But your Smith may freely forge what he will
Which, &c.
To be a Jockey is' thought a fine feat.
As to trajrne up a horse, and prescribe him his meat
Yet your smith knowes best to give a heat.
Which, &c.
The Roreing-Boy who. every one.quayles_
And swaggers, & drinks, & sweares and rayles.
Could never yet make the Smith eat his nayls,
" Which, &c.
Then if to know him men did desire,
They would not scome him but ranck him higher
For what he gets is out of the fire.
Which. &c.
Though Ulysses himselfe has gon many miles
And in the warre has all the craft & the wiles,
Yet your Smith can sooner double his files.
Which, &c,
284 Wii Restor'd.
Sayst thou so, quoth Ulysses, and then he did call
For wine to drinke to the Black-Smiths all,
And he vowed it should go round as a Ball
Which Nobody should deny.
And cause he had such pleasure fane,
At this honest fidlers merry straine,
He gave him the Horse-Shoe in Drury-lane
Which Nobody can deny.
Where his posterity ever since
Are ready with wine, both Spanish and French,
For those that can bring in another Clench
Which Nobody can deny.
The song being don they drank the health, they rose
They wo'd in verse, and went to bed in prose.
''^jy* '^jy* *^jy* wi/* *\0/* **\jy* ^'jy* ^(^ 'jy* *jy ^"jy %^* '^jn/* ^^y* %D^ ^v^*
A Prologue to the Mayor of Quinborough.
LOe I the Maior of Quinborough Town by name,
With all my brethren saving one that's lame ;
Are come as fast as fyery mil-horse gallops.
To meet thy grace, thy Queene, & her fair Trollops,
For reason of our comming do no look.
It must be don, I finde it i'th Town-book :
And yet not I my selfe, I scome to read,
I keep a Clarck to do these jobbs at need.
Wii Restored. 285
And now respect a rare conceipt before Thong castle see
thee,
Reach me the thing, to give the King, that other too, I
prethee.
Now here they be, for Queene and thee, the guift's all
Steele, and leather.
But the conceit of mickle weight, and here they're com
together.
To shew two loves must joyne in one, our Towne presents
to thee.
This gilded scabberd to the Queene, this dagger unto Thee.
A Song,
HEe that a happy life will lead,
In these times of distraction,
Let him list'n to me and I will him read
A lecture without faction.
Let him want three things whence misery springs.
They all begin with a letter.
Let him bound his desires to what nature requires,
And with reason his humor fetter.
Let not his wealth prodigious grow,
For that breeds care and dangers ;
Makes him envi'd above, and hated below.
And a constant slave to strangers.
286 Wit Restord.
They're happiest of all whose estats are small
Though but enough to maintain 'um
They may do, they may say, having nothing to pay,
It will not quit cost to arraigne u'm.
Nor would I have him clogg'd with a. wife, ,
For hgusehould care and.cumlier,
Nor to one place confine a mans life :
Cause he cannot remove his lumber.
They are happier farr that unwedded are,
And forrage on all in common,
For all stormes they may flye, & if they should dye
They undo neither child nor woman.
Nor let his braines overflow with witt,
That savours on discretion ;
'Tis costly to get and hard to keep
And dangerous in the- possession.
They are happyest men that can scarce tell ten.
And beat not their braines about reason ;
They may say what will serve, themselves to preserve.
And their words are neare tak'n for treason.
Of fools there is none like to the Witt
For he takes paines to show it.
When his pride and his drinke brings him into his fit ;
Then straight he must be a poet
Now his jests he flings at States and at Kings
For applause of bayes and shaddowes ;
Thinkes a verse serves as well, as circle or spell
Till he rhimes himselfe to the Barbadoes.
Wit Restord. 287
He that within his bounds will keep,
May baffle all dysasters ;
To fortune and fate commands he may give
Which worldlings call their masters ;
He may dance, he may laugh, he may sing, he may quaffe.
May be mad, may be sad may be jolly,
He may walk without fear, and sleep witliout care.
And a fig for the world and its folly.
The drunken Lover. J. D. Delight.
I Dote I dote, but am a sott to show"!,
I was a very fool to let her know't ;
For now she doth so cuning grow.
She proves a freirid worse then a foe :
She will not hold me fast nor let me goe,
She tells me, I cannot forsake her ;
Then straight I endeavor to leave her,
But to make me stay throw's a kisse in my way,
Oh then I could tarry for ever.
Then I retire, salute, and sit down by her,
There do I frye in frost, and freeze in fire,
New Nectar from her lipps I sup.
And though I do not drink all up ;
Yet am I drunk with kissing of the cup :
2 88 Wit Restored.
For her lipps are two brimmers of Qarret,
Where first I begin to miscarry :
Her brests of delight, are two bottles of white,
And her eyes are two cups of Canary.
Drunk as I live, dead drunk beyond reprieve
For all my secrets dribble through a sive,
Her arme about my neck she laith.
Now all is Scripture that she saith
Which I lay hold on, with my fuddled faith,
I find a fond lover's a drunkard ;
And dangerous is when he flyes out.
With hipps and with lipps, with black eyes and white
thighes.
Blind Cupid sure tippled his eyes out.
She bids me, Arise, tells me I must be wise,
Like her, for she is not in love she cryes ;
Then do I fret and fling and throw,
Shall I be fettered to my foe ?
Then 1 begin to nm but cannot goe
I pray thee, sweet, use me more kindly.
You had better for to hold me fast,
If you once disengage your bird from his cage,
Beleeve me hee'le leave you at last.
Lik a sot I sit that fild the towne with witt.
But now confesse I have most need of it ;
I have been drunk with duck and deare,
Above a quarter of a yeare :
Beyond the cure of sleeping or small beere,
Wit Restored. ,289
think I can number the months to,
yuly^ August,, September, October ,
Thus goes my account a mischeife upon't
But sure I shall goe when I am sober.
My legs are lame, my courage is quite tam'de,
My heart and all my body is inflamde ;
Now by experience I cannproye.
And sweare by all the powers above ;
Tis better to be drunk with wine then love.
Good sack makes us merry and witty,
Our faces with jwells adorning ;
And though that we grope yet, there is some hope.
That a man may be sober next morning.
Then with command she throwes me from her hand,
She bids me goe yet knowes I cannot stand ;
I measure all the ground by tripps.
Was ever Sot so drunk in sipps.
Or ever man so over seene in lipps,
I pray, maddam fickle, be faithfuU,
And leave off your damnable dodging.
Pray do not deceive me, either love me or leave me,
And let me go home to my lodging.
I love too much but yet my folUe's such
I cannot leave, I must love to'ther touch.
Here's a Health unto the King, how now ?
I am drunk and speak treason I vow ;
Lovers and fooles say any thing you knew,
VOL. I. u
290 Wit'Restor'd.
I feare I have- tyred your patiieHce^ -
But I am sure, tis -I have the wrong on't,
My Wit is bereft' me; for all that I have left me
Will but just serve to make me a song on't, •
My mistris and I shall never comply,
And there is the short and the long on't
'\jv* '\A/* t\fu* f^jut ^M* *M* *j^ *jy *^yt <^yt «^« *>jy* ')jy *^jy* "^jy '^jy
To the Tune of The beginning of the World.
R. P. Delighti
O Mother, chave bin a batchelour,
This twelve and twanty yeare ;
And Fze have often beene a wowing,
, And yet, cham never the neare :;
fone Gwfnball chss'\'\i&' non's!mee, .
Ize look so like a lowt ;
But I yaith, cham as propper a man as zhe
Zhee needaot be zo stout,
She zaies jf ize, cond daunce aid zing,
As Tkomets MiHef con,.
Or cut a cauper, as litle lack Taylor :
how chee'd love mee thon.
But zoft and faire, chil none of that,
1 vaith cham not zo nimble ;
The Tailor hatli nought to trouble his thought
But his needel and his thimble, ^
Wii Resta/d. 291
O zon, th'art of a. lawful! age^
And a jolly tidy :boy, \
Ide have thee try hei once a gajne, .
She can; but say tihee nay-; •
Then O Gramarcy mother,
Chill zet a good va'ce b' thfe' matted, ' '
Chill dresse up iriy 2bh as fine as a dog
Auld chill have a fresh bbiit at her. ■'
And. first. chill put on my zunday parrell
That's lae't about- the -^tuarterS' j
With a paire of buckram slopps,
And a vlanting pajre of garters.- •
With my sword tide vast to my zide,
Arid my grandvathers diig'en and dagger
And a Peacocks veather in my capp
Then oh how I'ch ^hall swagger, '
Nay f^k thee a lockrum napkia son, >
To wipe thy snotty nose,
T's ttoe matt^ vor thatj-chitt snort it out,
And ylurt it athart my cloths :
Ods, bodikins nay fy away,
I prethee son do not so' :
Be mannerly son till thou canst tell, '
Whether sheelfe ha' th6e oir floe,
But ziriah; Mpther harke a while'
Whoes that that coines so near ?
Tig /one Grumballj hold thy peace, ■
For. feare tljiat she doe heare*
u 2
292 Wit Res ford.
Nay on't be she, chill dresse my words '
In zuch a scholards grace,
But virst of all chall take my honds,
And lay them athwart her vace.
Good morrow my honey my sugger-candy,
My litle pretty mouse,
Cha hopes thy vather and mother be well,
At home at thine own house.
I'ch am zhame vac't to show my mind,
Cham zure thou knowst my arrant :
Zum zen, Jug, that I mun a thee.
At leasure Sir I warrant.
You must (Sir Clowne) is for the King,
And not for such a mome.
You might have said, by leave faire maid,
And let your (must) alone.
Ich am noe more nor clowne thats vlat,
Cham in my zunday parrell,
I'ch came vor love and I pray so tak't,
Che hopes che will not quarrell.
O Rohbin dost thou love me so well ?
I vaith, abommination,
Why then you should have fram'd your words
Into a finer fashion.
Vine vashions and vine speeches too
As schoUards volks con utter,
Chad wratlier speak but twa words plaine
Thon haulfe a score and stutter.
Wit Restord. 293
Chave land, chave houss, chave twa vat beasts,
Thats better thon vine speeches ;
T's a signe that Fortune favours fooles
She lets them have such riches.
Hark how she comes upon mee now,
I'd wish it be a good zine.
He that will steale any wit from thee
Had need to rise betime.
An Old Song.
BAck and sides go bare go bare.
And feet and hands go cold,
But let my belly have Ale enough •
Whether it be new or old,
Whether it he new or old,
Boyis, •whether it be new or old:
But let my belly have alt enough,
Whether ii be new or old.
A beggar!s a thing as good as a King,'
If you aske me the reason why
For a King cannot swagger
And drink like a beggar
No King so happy as I :
Some call me knave and rascall slave,
But I know, how to collogue
394 Wit Restored.
Come upon Um-, and upon 'um; ' ■ ' '
Will your worships and honour um.
Then I am an honest rogue, then I
Come upon um, and upon 'umwill you worships s
If a fart flye away \?here he makes his st^y.
Can any man think or suppose ?
For a fart cannot teU, when^ its out where to dwfiD,
Unless'e it be in your nose, unlesse it be in your nose boyes,
Unlesse it be in your nose.
For a fart cannot tell, when its out where to dwell
Unlesse it be in your nose.
Tke Sowgel^ezs Song, in the. Beggers-Bush.
I Met with the Divell in the shape of a Ramme,
Over and over the Sow-gelder came,
I took him and haltred him fast by the home,
And pickt out his stones as you'd pick out your comes.
Oh quoth the Divell and with that he shrunk,
And left me a.carkase ,of mutton that stunk.
Walking alone but a mjle and a.halfe,
I saw where he lay in. the shape of a calfe;
1 took him and gelt him e're he thought any eviH,
And found him' to be but a sucking Divell.
Bla quoth the Divell and clapt down his tailej
And that was sold after, for excellent veale.
Wzi Restored. 295
I met with the Diyell in the shape of a^JPigge,
I look't at the rogue, and he look't soipeth^g bigge ;
E're a man cold- fart thrice, I had njade hiip a hpgge,
Oh quoth the Divell ajid tfe.en- gave a Jerke „, ;
That the Jew was eoaverted by eating ofporke.
In woman's attire I met him full fine,
I took him at least for an AngpU divine ;
But viewing his crabb-face I fell to my trade,
And I made hiffl forsweare ever acting a inaid.
quoth the Diveil, and so ranne away,
And hid him in a Fryers gray weeds, as they say.
For halfe a yeire aft^V it was'toy great chauce
To meet with a gray coate that lay in a Trance,
1 took him and I graspt him fast by the codds ;
Betwixt his tongue and his'taile I left little tidds.
Oh, quoth the Divelly'much harme hast thou dolie,
Thou art sure to betJursed of rMany a man.
My ram, calfe, my pprke, my punk and my fryar,
I have left them unfumish't of their best Lady ware ;
And now he runs roaring from alehouse to Taveme,
And sweares hee'le turn tutor to the swaggering gallant :
But if I catch him He serve him no worse
For He lib hina, and leave him not a peny in his purse.
A Sbng^.
Three merry ladds met at the Rose
To speak the praises of the Nose,
29& Wit Restor'd.
The nose which stands in middle place
Sets out the beauty of the face ;
The nose with which we have begunne,
WUl serve to make our verses runne.
Invention often barren growes;
But still their' s matter in the nose.
The nose is of so higfi a price,
That men prefer't before their eyes ;
And no man counts him for his fidend,^
That boldly takes his nose by the end-
The nose that like Euripus flows,
The sea that did the wiseman pose.
Invention, &'c^
The nose is. of as many kinds^
As mariners can reckon winds,
The long,, the short, the nose displayd-;
The great nose which did fright the maid ;'
The nose through which the brother-hood
Did parley for their sisters good.
Inventicm, ^'c.
The flat, the sharp, the roman snout,
The hawkes nose Circled round about :
The crooked nose that stands awry,
The ruby nose of Scarlet dye,
The Brazen-nose without a face
That doth the learned Colledge grace ;
Invention, &x.
JVU Res tor' d. 297
The long nose when the teeth appeare,
Shews what's a clock if the day be clear,
The broad nose stands in buckler place,
And takes the blowes from off the face ;
The nose being plaine without a ridge,
Will serve sometimes to make a bridge.
Invention, 6^c.
The short nose is the Lovers blisse.
Because it hinders not a kisse.
The toating nose is a monstrous thing,
That's he that did the bottle bring :
And he that brought the bottle hither,
Will drink ; oh monstrous ! out of measure.
Invention, &=€.
The fiery hose, in Lanthomes stead,
Will light its Master to his bed ;
And who so ere that treasure owes,
Growes poore in purse, though rich in nose.
The brazen nose that's o're the gate,
Maintaines full many a Latin-pate.
Invention, is'c.
If any nose take this in snuffe.
And think it more then is enough;
We answer them, we did not fear,
Nor think such noses had been here.
But if there be, we need not care ;
A nose of wax our Statutes are.
Invention now is barren growne ;
The matters out, the nose is blown.
298 WURestor'd.
Phillada JIomIs me.
Oh ! 'what a paifl is love,
How shall I bear it ?
Shee ,Tvill'iiicoiist£tot;.prDVE,.
I grgastiy^'fearcit
Shee so torments my mind,. . .
That my. strength feileth ;.
And: wavers with;thel wind,
As. a shippe that saileth. , ,
Please her the best I^may,
Shee looks another way.
A lack and well a day
Phillaila floutes me.
All thfe'fair yesterday,
She did passb by me ;
she look't another way,
And would not spye me.
I wQo'd her fpr to dine.
But could no.t^get li€rj,
VVill had l;ier to the wine,
Hee might intreat her.
With Danid she did dance.
On me she look't a sconce.
Oh. thrice unhappy chance,
Fhillada floutes me.
Wii JResiof'd. 299
Eaire ^Jaid^ be.npt sa eoy,
Doe not disdaine me :
I am my mothers joy . ;
Sweet, entertain me.
Shee'l give me when she dyes,
All th^it isvfittipg,
Her iPoultreyand her. Bees
And her Geese sitting.
A paire of mattrisse bedds,
And a bagge full of shredds.
And yet for all this goods,
FhUlada ^kiat^s. rat, f
She hath a cloute pf.^mine • •
Wrought TOtl; good Cavsntry,
Which she keeps for a. sign^
Of my fidelitie.
. But i'faith,, if she flinch,
She, shall not weare it.
To Tibb jtny totherr wench
I mean, to teare it.
And yet it grieves my heart,
So soon from .her- to part.
Death strikes me with his idart,
PhUloida floutes me. , , .
Thou shaJlt,eate.Cui;dp & Cream,
All the .ysear, b.sti|ng ;
And drink the, Christall stream,
Pleasant in-tasting ;
3oa l^it Restor'di
Wigge and whay whilst thou bursty
And ramble berry ;
Pye-lid and pasty crust,
Pears, Plums, and Cherrey.
/Thy raiment shalbe thin,
Made of a weavers skin.
Yet all's not worth a pinne,
Phillada floutes me.
Fair maidens, have a carey
And in time take me :
I can have those as fair.
If you forsake me.
Fof Z'i?// the dairy-maidey
iLaught on me lately.
And wanton VVinifrid
Favours me greatly.
One throws milk on my clothes^
T'other playes with my nose ;
What wanton signes are those ?
Phillada floutes me:
I cannot work and sleep
AH at a season ;
Love wounds my heart so deep,
Without all reason.
I' gin to pine a way.
With greife and sorrow,
Like to a fatted beast,
Pen'd in a meadow.
Wit Restored. 301
I shall be dead I fear,
With in this thousand yeare ;
And all for very feare.
Phillada flouts me.
*\M* *M* *\A/* f^jy "jy* '^^/* *'>jy '\jy* »^^» f\jj/» i\jy riM* *^^ *^jj» t\A/* r^*
TAe Milk-maids.
WAlkeing betimes close by a green wood side,
Hy tranonny, nonny with hy tranonny no ;
A payre of lovely milk maides there by chance I spide
With hy tranonny nonny no, with tranonny no, '
One of them was faire
As fair as fair might bee ;
The other she was browne.
With wanton rowling eye.
Syder to make sillibubbs.
They carryed in their pailes j
And suggar in their purses,
Hung dangling at their tailes.
Wast-coats of flannell,
And petty-coats of redd.
Before them milk white aporns,
And straw-hats on their heads,
Silke poynts, with silver taggs,
A bout their wrists were shown ;
And jett-Rings, with poesies
Yours more then his owne.
302 Wit Restor'd.
And to requite their lovers poynts and rings,
They gave their lovers bracelets,
And many pretty thingS;'
And there they did get gownes
All- on the grasse so~greeQ> •
But the taylor was not skilfiill,
For the stitches they were seen.
Thus having spent the Ipng summers day,.
They took their nut browne milk pailes,
And so they, came away.
Well fare )rau. merry milk maids ■
That dable in the dew
For you have kisses plenty,
When Ladyes have but few.
The old Ballei of shepkeard Tom.
AS I late wandred over a Plaine,
Upon a hill piping I spide a shephards swaine :
His slops were of green, h^s coat was of gray,
And on his head a wreath of willow & of bay.
He sigh'd and he pip t,
His eyes he often wip't,
He curst and ban'd thefeoy,':
That first brought his annoy!
Who with the fire of desire, so inflamyhis minde,
To doate upon a lasse ; so various Se unkinde.
Wit Restored. 303
Then howling, he threw his whistle a way^ ■
And beat his heeles agen the ground whereon he layj
He swore & he stajfd he ^ras-quite bereft of hope,;^
And out of his scrip he pullexi a rope j '
Quotl^ he, the man that wooes, .
With me prepare 'his n.oose;
For rather then I'le fry,
By hemp He choose to dy.
Then up he rose, & he goes straight unto : a tree^:,
Where he thus complaines of his lasses cruelty,. ,
A, pox .upon the divell, tha;^ ev^.itwas my dot,-
To set my love upon sowooddish atrot. ' ^ ' ^
Had nqt I been, better ;took lone of the mill,' ' i ■•
Kate of the creame house, or bony bouncing Nell:
A Proud word I Sspeafe a-* i ' '
I had them. .at .-my beck;: ,.' ' " - n- •'..
And they on holydayes
Would give me prick and praise.
Bnt FMlis she was to me dearer then myueyes, '
For whom I now indure these plaguy miseryes, ,
Oft have I woo'dsher with.mawya tears, '.
With ribband for her head tire, and laces from the fayre.
With bone-lace and with shoone, with bracelets and with pinns.
And many a toy besides : good god forgive my sinns.
And yet this plaguy flirt •'
Would ding them in the diirte '
And smile to see mee tear,
The locks from of my haire.
304 IVit Restored.
To scratch my chops, rend my slops, & at wakes to sit
Like to a sot bereft both of reason sense and witt.
Therefore from this bough Tom bids a dew-
To the shepherds of the valley, and all the joviall crew.
Farewell Thump, my ram, and Cut my bobtaild curre,
Behold your Mr, proves his owne murtherer.
Goe to my Philis, goe.
Tell her this tale of woe.
Tell her where she may finde
Me tottering in the winde.
Say on a tree she may see her Tom rid from all care,
Where she may take him napping as Mosse took his Mare.
His Philis by chance stood close in a bush,
And as the Clowne did sprawle, she streight to him did
rush.
She cut in two the rope and thus to him she said,
Dispairing Tom, my Tom, thou hast undone a maid.
Then as one amaz'd.
Upon her face he gaz'd j
And in this wofuU case.
She kist his pallid face,
He whoopt amaine, swore, no swaine ever more should be,
So happy in his love, nor halfe so sweet as she.
Wit Restored. 305
D'
iM^,4>^,4>^!«^fe4^^^i^:i^i^^s4^yi^
Obsequies.
1 Raw not so near
Unlesse you shed a tear
On the stone,
Where I grone,
And will weepe,
Untill etemall sleepe
Hath charm'd my weary eyes.
Mora lyes here,
Embalm'd with many a teare,
Which the swaines,
From the plaines.
Here have paid,
And many a vestall Maid
Hath mourn'd her obsequies :
Their snowy brests they tear.
And rend their golden ha}Te ;
Casting cryes.
To Celestiall deityes.
To retume
Her beauty from the ume,
To raigne
Unparallel on earth againe.
When strait a sound,
From the ground,
VOL. I. ^
306 Wii Restored.
Peircing the aire,
Cryes, shee's dead,
Her soule is fled.
Unto a place more rare.
You spirits that doe keep
The dust of those that sleep,
Under the ground,
Heare the sound
Of a swaine,
That folds his armes in vain.
Unto the ashes he adores.
For pity doe not fright
Him wandring in the night :
Whilst he laves
Virgins graves
With his eyes.
Unto their mempryes.
Contributing sad showers.
And when my name is read,
In the number of the dead,
Some one may.
In Charity repay
My sad soul,
The tribute which she gave.
And howle
Some requiem on my grave.
Then weep noe more
Greife willnot restore
Wit Restored. 307
Her freed from care.
Though she be dead,
Her, soule is fled
Unto a place more rare.
* *M* ^J^ »^» '^J^ %[y» •^^^ *\n/* i>jy «^jn^ f^A/» r)/y* *y^rt #\iyt »Kjyi «ji«
<?/"« Taylor and a Lowse.
ALowse without leave a Taylor did molest,
The Taylor was forc'd the lowse to arrest ;
The Taylor of curtesie the lowse did release,
But she bitt the harder and stil broke the peace.
In this doubtfiill matter, your counsel! I crave,
What law of the lowse the Taylor may have,
A jury of beggers debating the cause,
Decree'd in their verdict that lyce should have lawes.
And therefore they- say without further reciting
That lyce must be subject to the law of bacbiting.
Which law doth provide for the party so greived
The lowse so offending not to be repreived.
But straight to be taken and had to the jayle,
And after to suffer the crush of the nayle.
X «
3o8 :Wii Restor'd.
The old Ballad of Little Musgrave and the
Lady Barnard.
AS it fell one holy-day, hay downe,
As many be in the yeare.
When young men and maids
Together did goe,
Their Mattins and Masse to heare,
Little Musgrave came to the church dore,
The Preist was at private Masse
But he had more minde of the faire women ;
Then he had of our lady grace
The one of them was clad in green
Another was clad in pale,
And then came in my lord Bernards wife
The fairest amonst them all ;
She cast an eye on little Musgrave
As bright as the summer sun,
And then bethought this little Musgrave
This lady,s heart have I woonn.
Wit Restored. 309
Quoth she I have loved thee little Musgrave
Full long and many a day,
So have I loved you fair Lady,
Yet never word durst I say,
I have a bower at Buekelsfordbery
Full daintyly it is geiglit,
If thou wilt wed thither thou little Musgrave
Thou's lig in mine armes all night.
Quoth he, I thank yee faire lady
This kindnes thou showest to me,
But whether it be to my weal or woe
This night I will lig with thee.
With that he heard a little tyne page
By his ladyes coach as he ran,
All though I am my ladyes foot page
Yet I am lord Barnards man
My lord Barnard shall knowe of this
Whether I sink or sinn ;
And ever where the bridges were broake
He laid him downe to swimme.
A sleepe or wake thou Lord Barnard,
As thou art a man of life
For little Mvsgrave is at Bwklesfordbery :
A bed with thy own wedded wife.
3IO Wit Restm-'d.
If this , be true thou Ijttle tinny, Page,
This thing thou tellest to mee^.
Then all the land in BucMesfordbery ■
I freely will give to ^ee.
But if it be a ly, thlsu little tinny Page,
This thing thou tellest to me ; . .
On the hyest tree in Bucklesfordhery
Then hanged ^alt thou be.
He called up his merty men all '
Come sadle me my steed, ;
This night must I to Buckdlsfiyr'dbay,
For I never had greater need*. ;
And sonie of them whistl'd & some of them sung,
And some thes^ words did say ; -
And ever when my \otA.Bamar^ horn blew,
A way Musgrave a way.
Me-thinta I hear the;Thresel-cock, :
Me-thinks I hear the J.aye,
Me-thinkb I hear my Lord Barnard,
And I would I were away. - ,
I.ye still, lye still, thoto little Musgrave
And huggell me from the cold,
Tis nothing but a shephards boy,
A driving his shefep to the fold.
. Wit Restor'd. 311
Is not thy hawke upon a perch?
Thy steed eats oats and hay ;
And thou fair Lady in thine arfiaes,
And wouldst thou bee away ?
With that my lord Barnard came to the dore
And lita stone upon . ; ; , . .
He plucked out three silver keys; ,
And he open'd the dores each ojie.
He lifted up. the coverlett,
He lifted up the sheet,,..! w .;
How now, how now, tliou ^tteH. Musgrdve
Doest thou find my lady sweet? .■
I find her. sweet, quoth Hitle Musgrave
The more 'tis to my,paine, :
I would gladly give three hundred pounds
That I were on yonder plaine.
Arise arise thou littell Musgrave,
And put thy cloth-e& on, ■
It shal ne're be said in my country
I have killed a naked man.
I have two Swords in one scabberd,
Full dere they cost my purse ; -. • ,
And thou shalt have the best of them
And I will have .the worse. '.
312 Wit Res tor' d.
The first stroke that little Musgrave stroke,
He hurt Lord Barnard sore
The next stroke that Lord Barnard stroke
Little Musgrave ne're struck more.
With that bespake this faire lady,
In bed whereas she lay,
Although thou'rt dead thou little Musgrave,
Yet I for thee will pray,
And wish well to thy soule will I
So long as I have life,
So will I not for thee Barnard
Although I am thy wedded wife.
He cut her paps from off her brest,
Great pitty it was to see.
That some drops of this ladies heart's blood
Ran trickling downe her knee.
Woe worth you, woe worth, my mery men all,
You were ne're borne for my good :
Why did you not offer to stay my hand,
When you see me wax so wood.
For I have slaine the bravest Sir Knight
That ever rode on steed,
So have I done the fairest lady
That ever did womans deed.
Wit Restord. 313
A grave, a grave, Lord Barnard cryd
To put these lovers in :
But lay my lady on upper hand
For she came, of the better kin.
The Scots arrears.
FOwre hundred thousand pounds
A lusty bag indeed !
Was't ever knowne so vast a sum
Ere past the river Twede ?
Great pitty it is, I swear.
Whole carts was thither sent.
Where hardly two in fifty knew.
What forty shillings meant :
But 'twas to some perceived.
Three kingdomes were undone.
And those that sit heere thought it fitt.
To settle them one by one,
Now Ireland hath no haste.
So there theile not begin ;
The Scottish ayde must first be pai'd,
For y^ came freely in,
314 WitRestor'd.
And William Lilly, writes
Who writes the; truth you know ;
In frosty weather they marched hither.
Up to the chins in snow.
Free quarter at excesse,
They do not weigh a feather,
Those Crowns for coals brought in by shoals ;
Scarce kept their men together,
Of plunder they esteeme
As trifles of no worth,
Of force ye dote because recruite
Issued no faster forth.
If once this cash is paid
I hope the Scot be spedd',
He need not steale but fairly deal
Both to be cloth'd arid fedd.
Our sheep and oxen may
Safe in their pastures- stand,
What need they filch the cow
Thats milch to sojoume in: their land.
I wonder much the Scot
With this defiles his hands,
Because the summ's a price of Rome
Rays'd out of the Bishops lands,
But too too wel ye know
To what intent they in came
TWas not their paines produc'd this gaines
Twas sent to papke them home,
Wit Restored. 315
Mee thinks I heare them laugh
To See how matters proved,
And give ashout it so fell out,
Ye were more fear'd then lov^d.
If Jockey after this
Reiieaginge hath forgott
From antient sires hee much retires
And shows himselfe no Scott,
3i6 WitRestord.
Rebellis SCOTUS.
CUrcR Deo sumus, ista si cedant Scoto i
Variata spleniis Domina Psyche est suis.
Aut stellionat'&s rea. Y' arepov wpoTEpov,
Campanula omnes ; totus Ucalegon fuo,
Coriacece cut millies mille hydrice,
Suburbicanis pensiles parceciis
Non sint refrigerio. Poeticus furor,
Cometd non minils, vel orefiammeo
Commune despuente fatum siellulA,
Dirum ominatur. Ecquis, k Siod, suam
jFam temperet bilem ? pairia quando lue
Tarn Pymmian&, id est, pediculosA, perit ?
Bombamachidisq ; fit bolus myrmeciis i
Scotos nee ausim nominare, carminum
Nisi inter amulefa, nee meditarier
Nisi cerebello, qtiod capillitio rubens
( Quale autumo eoluberrimum Furiis caput)
Quot inde verba, tot venena prompserit.
Rhadamantheum, fac, guttur essef nunc mihi,
Sulpkurque, patibulumque copiosius
Ructans, Magus qucim cmnias bombycinas ;
Poteram ut Agyrta Circulator, pillulas
Vomicas loqui, aut fnroicoKwdi^eiv Styga :
Aut ut Geneva Stentores, Perilleis
Tartar a, &" equuleos boare pulpitis :
Wit Restov'd. 3 1 7
f|tn\fiif^ipfpipfpqt^f|ii|iipj|(j|(jj\jpq\ iff # f)\ Jp fl?r ip Jp fi w
7:4^ i?^/$^// SCOT.
HOw ! Providence 1 and yet a Scottish crew !
Then Madam Nature wears black patches too ?
What shall our Nation be in bondage thus
Unto a Land that truckles under us ?
Ring the bells backward, I am all on fire,
Not all the buckets in a Country Quire
Shall quencn my rage. A Poet should be fear'd,
When angry, like a Comet's flaming beard.
And Where's the Stoick, can his wrath appease
To see his Countrey sick of Pynis disease ?
By Scotch-invasion, to be made a prey
To such Pig-widgin Myrmidons as they ?
But that there's charm in verse, I would not quote
The name of Scot without an antidote ;
Unlesse my head were red, that I might brew
Invention there that might be poyson too.
Were I a drowsie Judge, whose dismal note
Disgorgeth halters as a Juglers throat
Doth ribbands : could I (in Sir Emp'rick tone)
Speak Pills in phrase, and quack destruction :
Or roar like Marshall, that Genevah Bull,
Hell and damnation a Pulpit full :
3i8 WitRestof'd.
At machinanti par forem nunquam Scoto,
Cunctis Sdopetis hisce gutturalibus.
Ut digna Dii duint, vorem par est priiis,
(Pmstigiator ut) sicas, &• acinaces.
Hiu, hue, lambe, gressibus faxo tuts
At hue, lambe, morsibus faxo magis.
Satyrceque tortriees, tot hue adducite
Flagella, quot prcesens meretur seculum
Seoti Venifieis pares ; audax stylutn
Horumeruore tinge, sic noeent minus.
Vt Martyres olim induebant belluis
(Quasi sister ent Rogis saeros kypoeritas)
En hos eodem Schemate {at retrb) Seotos,
Extrd. Seotos, iniusferas, d^• sine tropo.
Fallax lema viper(Z nihil foves
Seoto Colono i Non ego Britanniam.
Lupis carentem dixerim, vivo Scoto.
Quin Thamesinus pyrgopoliniees Scotus
Poterdt leones, iigrides, ursos, canes
Proprii inquilinos pectoris spectaeulo
Monstr&sse; pro obolis omnibtts quibus sold
Speetare monstra Gratis, &' Fori simtil
Pxne oereatum vulgus. Et patriafera
Seotos eremus indicat terrce plaga
Vel omniprcesentem negans Deum, nisi
Venisset inde Carolus, cohors nisi
Crafordiana, miles &= Montrosseus,
Feritatis eluens notam paganiem,
Hanc prcestitisset semivictimam Deo ;
Nee Seoticus est, totus Leopardus, Leo ;
Wit Restored. 3 10
Yet to expresse a Scot, to play that prize,
Not all those mouth-Granadoes can suffice.
Before a Scot can properly be curst,
I must (like Hocus) swallow daggers first.
Come, keen lambicks, with your badgers feet, ' •
And Badger-like, bite till your feet do meet
Help, ye tart Satyrists, to imp my rage.
With all the Scorpions that shpuld whip this age,
Scots are like Witches ; do but whet your pen ;
Scratch till the bloud come, they'l not hurt you then.
Now as the Martjnrs were inforc'd to take
The shapes of beasts, like hypocrites at stake ;
I'le bait my Scot so, yet not cheat your eyes,
A Scot, within a beast, is no disguise.
No more let Ireland brag, her harmlesse Nation
Fosters no Venom," since the &(?/'j- plantation ;
Nor can our feign'd antiquity maintain ;
Smce they came in, England hath Wolves again.
The Scot that kept the Tower, might have showne
(Within the grate of his own breast alone)
The Leopard and the Panther, and ingrost
What all those wild CoUegiats had cost :
The honest high-shooes, in their termly fees,
First to the salvage Lawyer, next to these.
Nature her selfe doth Scotch-men beasts confesse,
Making their countrey such a wildemesse,
A Land that brings in question and suspense
Gods omni-presence, but that Charles came thence,
But that Montrosse and Crawfords loyal band
Atton'd their sins, and chfist'ned half the Land ;
320 Wit Restor'd.
Habent &• Aram sicut Arcam fmderis
Velut taiellm bifidis pictm pHcis
Fert Angelas pars hcec, &* hmc Cacodamonas :
Cui somnianti tartarum suasit pavor
Sic pcenitere, viderat regnum velim
Nigrius Scoiorum setnel, &• esset innocens.
Regio, malignd, qucefacit votum prece,
Rdegetur ad Gyares breves nunguam incola !
Punisset ubi Cainum nee exilio Deus,
Sed, ut ille trechedipnum, magis Domicmnio.
Vt gens vagans recutita, vel contagium,
Aut Beelzebub, si des ubiquitarium.
Hinc errofit semper Scotus, certos locos,
Et kos &= illos quoslibet cith nauseans,
Vt frusta divisi orbis, &• Topographice
Mendicitatis offulas, cartas nimis.
Ipse universitatis hxeres integrce,
Et totus in toto, natio Epidemica,
Necgliscit ergd jargonare Gallici,
Exoticis aut Indicis modis, neque
Iberio nutu negare, nee studet
Callere quern de Belgicis Hoghen moghen
Venter tumens, aut barba canthari refert.
(Quce Coriatis una mens rwstratibus),
Pugna est in animo, atque animus in patin& Scoto.
Huic Struthioni suggeret cibum chalybs,
Et denti-ductor appetitus, baltheo,
Pro more, pendulos molares ivserit.
At interim nostras quid involant dapes f
Serpens Edenum, w« Edenburgum appetit.
Wit Restored. 321
Nor is it all the Nation hath these spots ;
There is a Church, as well as Kirk of Scots :
As in a picture, where the squinting paint
Shews fiend on this side, and on that side saint :
He that saw Hell in's melancholy dream
And in the twi-light of his fancy's theam,
Scar'd from his sins, repented in a fright,
Had he view'd Scotland, had turn'd Proselyte.
A Land, where one may pray with curst intent,
O may they never suffer banishment !
Had Cain been Scot, God would have chang'd his doom.
Nor forc't him wander, but confin'd him home.
Like Jews they spread, and as infection fly.
As if the devil had Ubiquity.
Hence 'tis they live at Rovers, and defie
This or that place, rags of Geography.
They're Citizens o'th' world ; they're all in all,
Scotland^ a Nation Epidemical.
And yet they ramble not, to learn the mode
How to be drest, or how to lisp abroad ;
To return knowing in the Spanish shrug.
Or which of the Dutch-States a double Jug
Resembles riiost, in belly, or in beard.
(The Card by which the Marriners are steer'd.)
No ; the Scots-Errant fight, and fight to eat ;
Their Estrich-stomacks make their swords their meat
Nature with Scots, as Tooth-drawers ha;th dealt,
Who use to hang their teeth upon their belt.
Yet wonder not at this their happy choice ;
The Serpent's fatal still to Paradise.
VOL. I. '^
322 Wit Resior'd.
Aut Angliie, mi jam malum eat Hemorrhds,
Hcematopotas hos posteris meatibus
Natura medica suppotuit hirudines
Cruore saiiandos lick nostra pritis,
Nostra sed &> cruore moribundos quoque.
Nee camputo credant priori, nos item
Novum addituros, servitutem pristincB
Aliam, gemellam miperx, fraterculos
, Palpare quando cceperant charos nimis,
(Suffragiorum scilicet poppy smata)
Et crustulum imperiire velut offam Cerbero
Subblandiens decrevetat Senatulus.
Nos ara loculis 2 arma visceribus pritis
Indemus usque &• usque vel capulo tenus.
Seri videmus quo Scotum trades modo.
Princeps rebelli mitior tergo quasi
Bellas equina detrahens aptat sua.
At jus rapinas hasce defendit vetus ?
Egyptus istaperdit, aufert Israel
An bibliorum nescis Jios satellites t
Prcetorianis quels cohortibus, (noz'ce
Hierusalem triariis) spes nititur
Sororcularum ? Carda, cardo vertitur
Cupediarum, primitives legis, &^c.
O bone Deus 1 quanti est carere linteis I
Orexis ut Borealis, &' fames, movet I
Viciuque, vestibusque cassi, hinc Kmxio
Sutore simul, &• Knoxio utuntur coqtio,
Pil quod algeant, quod esuriant pii.
Wt£ Restord. 323
Sure England hath the Hemeroids, and these
On the North-posture of the paitient seize,
Like Leeches, thus they physically thirst
After our bioud, but in the cure shall burst.
Let them not think to make us run o'th score,
To purchase villenage as once before,
When an Act pass'd to stroak them on the head,
Call them good Subjects, buy them Ginger-bread.
Nor Gold, nor Acts of grace, 'tis Steel must tame
The stubborn Scot : a Prince that would reclaim
Rebels by yeilding, doth like him, (or worse)
Who sadled his own back, to shame his horse.
Was it for this you left your leaner soil,
Thus to lard Israel with ^gypts spoyl ?
They are the Gospels Life-guard, but for them
(The Garrison oi -new Jerusalem)
What would the Brethren do ? the cause ! the cause !
Sack possets, and the fundamental Lawes !
Lord ! what a goodly thing is want of shirts !
How a Scotch-stomack, and no meat, converts !
They wanted fpod and rayment ; so they took
Religion for their Seamstresse, and their Cook.
Unmask them well ; their honours and estate
As well as conscience are sophisticate.
Shrive but their titles, and their money poize,
A Laird and twenty pounds pronounc'd with noise^
Y 2
324.. Wit Restored.
Larvas quin usque detrahas, &• nummuHs
Titulisque, (ut animabus) subest fallacia.
Libra, &' Baron es ( detumescant interim
Vocabulorum iympani) quanti valent I
Hie Cantianum pmne, pjcene villicum,
Solidosque totos ilia, sed gratis, duos.
Apagl superbx fraudulenticR, simul
ProsapiA picios, fide &= pictos procul :
Opprobrium poetico vel stigmati
Etiam cruci crux. Non aliter Hyperbolus
Hyperscelestics ostracismo fit pudor.
Americanus, ille, qui coelum horruit
Quod Hispanorum repat eh sed pars quota !
Viderat in Oreo si Scotos, (hut tot Scotos ! )
Roterodamus pependerat medioximus :
Sat musa / semissa fercularia
Medullitils vorans, diabolis invides
Propriam sibi suam Scoti paropsidem.
Vt Berniclis enim Scoti, sic Lucifer
Saturatur ipsis Berniclatioribus.
Nam lapsus d.furc& Scotus, mox df» Styge
Tinctus, suum novatur in Plaut-Anserem.
FINIS.
Wit Restord. 325
When constru'd, but for a plain Yeoman go,
Aiid a good sober Two-pence, and well so.
Hence then, you proud Impostors, get you gone,
You Picts in Gentry and devotion ;
You scandal to the stock of Verse, a race
Able to bring the Gibbet in disgrace.
Hyperbolus by suffering did traduce
The Ostracism, and sham'd it out of use.
The Indian, that heaven did forsweare.
Because he heard the Spaniards were there,
Had he but known what Scots in hell had been,
. He would Erasmus-X^ks. have hung between :
My Muse hath done. A Voider for the nonce ;
I wrong the devil, should I pick their bones.
That dish is his ; for when the Scots decease,
Hell, like their Nation, feeds on Barnacles,
A Scot, when from the Gallow-tree got loose,
Drops into Styx, and turns a Soland Goosfe.
The End,
,». J'.,.
MUSARUM DELIGI^.
NOTES.
Pope, in classing the English poets for his projected discourse on the
Rise and Progress of English poetry, has considered Sir J. Memiis and
Thos. Baynall as the original of Hudibras ; see Dr. Warton's Essays.
Some of these pieces certainly partake of the wit, raillery, and playful
versification of Butler, and this collection, it is to be remembered, made
its appearance eight years before the publication of Hudibras. Dr.
Farmer has traced much of Butler in Cleveland.
P. 4, 1.- I.— "Charles I." Read Charles II. The error has been '
copied from Anthony a Wood.
P. 7, 1. 6. — " Valuable presents." Among them probably "the
great Portugal jevpel," which he bequeaths in his will, p. g, to Lady
Heath.
P, vj. — '^ ff. H." Henry Herringhata was the Murray of his day.
He pablished the first complete edition of Davenant's woAs, in the
advertisement to which he speaks of the author as "my worthy friend."
We find Pepys, June 22, i668, "calling at Herringham's," and dis-
cussing Dryden's poetry.
P. 19, — "Parson Weeks." John Weeks, Prebend of Bristol, a face-
tious character and popular preacher mentioned by Anthony 4 Wood
(Fasti Oxonienses, f. 39), and probably the same to whom Herrict
dedicated' one of his poems -under the name of PoSthiimus.
P. 20, 1. 18.— " Viatico" 2nd, ed. reads " Vernaccio." "Vemage,
sweet, wine from Verona." — Bailees Diet.
P. 20, 1. 19. " Young Herric," «'.?., the author of the Hesperides.
" And now farewell, young Herrick, for young is the spirit of thy poetry,
as. thy wisdom is old ; and mayestthou flourish in immortal youth, thou
boon companion and most jocund ioagster."— Retrospective Revieie,
vol. v.
P. 20 1. 28.—" Coryat." The Eastern traveller ahd stflthor of the
Crudities, vide Wood's Athense Oxon., p. 422, ed. 1721. He is again
referred to, "Wit Restor'd," p. 220.
338
Mtisartcm Delicice.
p. 21, I. II. — " Epsam Well." Epsom in Surrey was the Brighton of
the days of Charles II. The spring was discovered in 1613, and the
water was at first used externally. Later it was esteemed for its purga-
tive powers.
P. 21, 1. 19. — "Putney's Ferry." The bridge which crosses the
Thames at Fulham takes the place of the ancient ferry. Cooniis
Chase, between Wimbledon and Maiden, whence the route lay through
Kingston.
P. 26, 1. 8. — " Sleighted by Man." 2nd ed. reads "Sealed by a
Priest."
P. 26, 1. 13. — " Abhominable." Abominable is generally referred to
the Latin abominor, and derived from ab and omen, as implying some-
thing that is to be deprecated as ominous; " but," says the Rev. J.
Boucher, in his supplement to Johnson's Dictionary, "lam not sure
that the ancient spelling 'ab/4ominable,' which I find in Hawkins' old
plays (see vol. i. , Lusty Juventus, in which one of the characters is
called ' Abhominable Liveing,' and vol. iii. p. 140, where Miniver says,
' Die thou wilt, I warrant, in thy abhominable sins') may not lead us
to a better etymology — viz. , ab and homo, as implying something that is
unworthy of a man, and therefore to be detested ; and if I mistake not
on this idea, a much , better reason may be given for Holo/ernes's
quarrelling with what he regarded as an illiterate innovation — viz.,
abominable, than that which Mr. Steevens has assigned ; see note to
Lovers Labour's Lost, act v. sc. i. It does not seem to be at all in cha-
racter for Holofernes, a schoolmaster and a pedant, to ridicule a ' mere
foppish manner of speaking, and an affected pronunciation,' but per-
fectly so to take offence at a pronunciation which discovered how
little the speaker knew of the origin of the words which he uttered so
glibly. In the same spirit the omission of the b in doubt and debt are
objected to, as losing sight of their Latin origin. All that can be
further said respecting this interpretation is, that by admitting it,
nothing is lost, and something may be gained."
P. 26, 1. 19. — " I'll tell thee news'' 2nd ed. reads, "Here's news for
Jack."
P. 7, 1. 27. — " Will has in his face the flawes." William D'Avenant,
created Poet Laureate in 1637. In May, 1641, being accused of seducing
the army against the Parliament, he was apprehended at Feversham ;
being bailed, in July following he fled into France. His loss in the
field of Love is here jeered at, as usual, " habet sua castra Oupido."
Davenant's personal defect in this particular has been observed by
Faithorne in the portrait prefixed to his works, and is alluded to by
Sir John Suckling in the " Session of the Poets,"
Will D'Avenant, ashamed of a foolish mischance.
That he got lately travelling into France,
Modestly hoped the handsomeness of his muse.
Might any deformity about him excuse.
Notes. 329
p. 28, 1. 12. — ^'' From Northern soyl." In 1639 Sir John Mennis
was captain of a troop of horse against the Scots. The poems pp. 44,
52, are also of this period.
P. 29, 1. 23. — " Kenelm." Sir Kenelm Digby.
P. 30, 1. II. — " Vacuus cantabit." " Vacuus cantat coram latrone
viator. " — Juvenal.
P. 30, 1. 19. — "Cicero." Cicer, chick-peas, a kind of pulse. " Roun-
teval" a pea so-called from the place whence it was imported. —
Richardson! s Diet.
P. 33, 1. 6. — " Shent" Abashed, put to shame.
' ' And every man upon him cride.
That was be shente on every side." — Corner.
P. 35, 1. 19. — "A yourney into France." Attributed to Dr. Corbet by
Mr. Dubois, who says : " This piece is found in Dryden's Miscellanies,
and is also printed in Bishop Corbet's Poems, 1672, and called Dr.
Corbet's Journey, but almost every stanza is altered and spoiled. The
copy in Mr. Gilchrist's 'Poems of Richard Corbet,' 1807, p. 94, labours
under the same imputation, which is surprising in a man of so much
accuracy and research, especially as it appears from p. xxii. that he had
this work before him at the time. " There can, however, be no doubt
that Sir John Mennis is the author, for although this piece is found in
the first and the last edition of Corbet's Poems, it is omitted in the
second, 1648, of which Mr. Gilchrist says : "It is the only impression
with any pretension to accuracy, which, from its internal evidence, I
suspect was published under the eye of the Bishop's family."
P. 36, 1. 2. — "John Dory." Of this popular song, which is, says
Mr. Gilchrist, reprinted from " Deuteromelia,'' 1609, in Hawkins'
History of Music, the following is the introductory stanza : —
■ " As it fell upon a holyday
And upon a holy-tide-a
John Dory brought him an ambling nag
To Paris for to ride-a."
See also O'Keefe's song.
P. 36, 1. 12. — " Pantofle," shoe or slipper.
P. 38, I. 4. — '' Saint Innocents." The burying-grotmd of the church
of the Innocents stood at the eastern end of the present Marche des
Innocents. Near this, at the east end of the Rue St. Honore, Henry
IV. was assassinated.
P. 38, 1. 22. — "Duke of Guise." Charles de Lorraine, 4th Duke.
In 1622 he comriianded the fleet and subdued Rochelle.
p, 39j 1. 3. — "Indian Ruck." The "roc" of the Arabian Nights.
330 Musarum Delicice, .
p. 39, 1. 14. — "Lewit the Just." "Lonis XIII., forno superior virtues
sumamed Le jfuste. I have seen it somewhere observed that he chose
his ministers for extraordinary reasons : Richelieu, because he could not
govern his kingdom without fiim ; De Noyes, for psalm-singing ; and the
Due de Luynes, for being an expert bird'catcher.—Crf/cAm/'j Poemi of
■Dr. (^rbet,
P. 39, 1. 19. — "Firk." Mr. Steevens truly says that this word is SO
variousily used by the old writers, that it is almost impossible to ascertain
its precise meaning. " A trick or quirk ; a freak." — Halliwell. Or, -as
a verb, "to beat or whip." — Bailey's Diet. To teaze, P. 49, 1. 1.5.
P. 40, 1. 10. — " His Queen." Anned'Autriche,daUghterof Philip III.
of Spain.
P. 41, L 5. — " Lepanto" where the Turks lost 30,000 men.
P. 41, 1. 10. — " Yewl," or Yule, is the North-Country term for
Christmas.
P. 42, 1. 21. — " Craifish river" i.e^ the Lea.
P. 43, 1. 13. — " Paul's." "At this time the interior of the Cathedral
church was a place for all kinds of bargains, meetings, and brawlings.
The middle aisle was a lounge for idlers, wits, and gallants; Th^
desecration of the exterior was more abominable. The Chapels were
used foi- stores and lumber ; parts of the vaults were occupied by a
carpenter, and as a wine cellar." — Tintbs' Curiosities cf London.
P. 43, 1. 18. — " Cheuri-illeson." Kyrie-eleison.
P. 44, 1. 19. — " Upon a lame tired horse." Cf. note, p. 28, 1. 12.
As has been said, p. 327, Pope has considered Sir John Mennis as the
original of Hudibras. Compare this description of hotse and man with
Hudibras, Canto I. : —
" The beast was sturdy, large, and tall, .
With mouth of meal, and eyes of walL
- * * * «
We shall not need to say what lack
Of leather was upon his back,
For that was hidden under pad.
His strutting ribs on both sides show'd
Like furrows he himself had plow'd.
Our knight did bear no less a pack
Of his own buttocks on his back.
Which now had almost got the upper
Hand of his head, for want of crupper,
To poise this equally he bore
A paunch of the same bulk before."
Notes. 331
p. 46, 1. 2.—" TTie George Tavern in Souikwark," as described by
Stow, and mentioned in 1554, was burnt in 1676. The present George
Inn seems to have been rebuilt upon the old plan. — Timbs' Curiosities
vf London.
P. 46, 1. 6. — " Cantabrian Calenture." " Spanish fever. A distemper
peculiar to sailors, wherein they imagine the sea to be green fields. —
Sailey's Diet. - , ,
P. 46, 1. n.~" Eighty Eight," 1588. The year of the Spanish
Armada.,
P. 46, 1. 17. — "Felt-makers,'' i.e., hat manufacturers.
P. 48, 1. T.—"Mandevil." Sir John Mandeville, the traveller,
P. 49, 1. 15. — " Ferk," see note to p. 39, 1. 19.
P. 49, 1. 18'.—" Breda." Talcen by the Spaniards under SpinolW ii
.1625.
P. 49, 1. 20.—" JCing Oberon's Apparell." This piece has much
fanciful and felictious appropriatferiess to his fiiry majesty, and is given
in Ellis's Specimens, voL ,iii. p. 378. Herrick has "Oberon's Feast"
and "Oberon's Palace."
P. 52, 1. 2. — " Cow-ladyes," i.e., lady-ljira.
P. 52, 1. J. — "His belt was made oj mirtle leaves.'' Xit Marlowe
imitatea. See Walton.
P. 52, 1. xt,.—" A Poet's farewell,"' &■<:. See p. 98 for reply, and
note, p. 28, 1. ,12. *
P. S3, 1. 22.— " Querpo." ":Cuerfo, a body, Span. To walk in
cuerpo — i.e., to go without a cloak, to show one's shape." — Bailey's
Diet.
P. 54,1. \o.—" Blackwell /&//" formerly stood in Guildhall Yard,
and was used as a weekly market for woollen cloths.
■y. 58, 1. 22. — " Corant." TheZenden Weekly Ci;»>-a«< first appeared
in 1622.
P. 59, 1. I. — "Dr. Budden." John Budden, of Merton College,
Oxford, and King's Professor of Civil Law. Anthony a Wood says of
him : " He was a person of great eloquence, an excellent rhetorician,
philosopher, and most noted civilian. "
P. 61, 1. 4. — "Like a Fortune, Hope?' 2nd edition reads, " Like a
forlorn hope."
P. 66, 1. 3. — " Madam Chevereuze.V Marie de Rohan, wife of Claude
de Lorraine, Due de Chevereuze, who was the King's proxy when
Charles I. espoused the Princess Henrietta, whom he attended to
England, and for which he was made Knight of the Garter. The
Duckess was in the first class of gay and' gallant ladies of France, and
the 'Compliment, p. 67, 1. J, seems to have teen wholly poetical.
2,2)'^ Musarum Delicia.
.According to Granger, she was by no nieans the icicle that hangs
on Diana's temple. He has given a particular account of her, and
pointed out this copy of verses on her svifipiming as not having been
recorded among her adventures in the menioirs of De Retz. — Granger^
vol. iii. 283, 5th ed.
P. 68, 1. I. — " Upon Aglaura in Folio." This is a satire on the
folio edition of Suckling's Aglaura, published in 1638. As this play
■was printed in folio, with wide margins and a narrow streamlet of type,
it is here ridiculed as ostentatious, and wittily resembled to a baby
lodged in the great bed at Ware, or to a small picture in a large frame*
See Langbaine^
P. 69, 1. 19. — " Upon lute-strings cat-eaten.'' A MS. note by an old
hand appended to this poem in the editor's copy, attributes this piece
to "the learned Mr. Masters, of New Coll., Oxon." Thomas Master,
of New College, is mentioned by Anthony a- Wood as a " noted poet."
P. 71, 1. 20. — " Engastrumeth." " Engastrimythos, one who emits
sounds like the voice of one speaking out of the belly, such as. is reported
of the Pythian prophetess. " — Bailey's Diet.
P. 75, 1. 12. — " The Spanish Curate." A comedy by Beaumont and
Fletcher. This song not having appeared in the Original edition of the
, Spanish Curate was removed frran the text by Mr.- Colman, but it has
been restored by later editors.
P. 75, 1. 17. — " Let the pig turn merrily, hey." Dibdin appears to
have founded the burden of a aong.in the Quaker oji this verse :—
" When the lads of the village shall merrily, ah !
Sound the taljors, I'll Hand thee aloiig,'
And I say unto thee that vferily, ah !
Thou and I will be first in the throng."
BeW s Songs of the Dramatists,
P. 82, 1. 7. — " The Fart censured in the Parliament House," Three
MS. copies of this satire, in the British Museum, ascribe it to Suckling,
and add to the title, " By a worshipful Jurie, each speaking in their
order." See Ayscough Cat., p. 827.
Mr. Gifford, in his edition of Ben JonsOn, r8l6, has the following
notes on this passage in the Alchemist : —
"Then my poets" (shall be)
" The same that vvrit so subtly of the fart,
Whom I will entertain still for that subject."
''Who the author alluded to should be, I cannot say. In the
collection of poems called Musarum Delicia, or the Muses' Recreation,
there is a poem called The Fart censured in Parliament House ; it was
occasioned by an escape of that kind in the House of Commons. I
have seen part of this poem ascribed to an author in the time of Queen
Notes. 333'-
Elizabeth, and possibly it maybe the thing referred to by Jonson. " —
IVhalley's Jonson,
"This escape, as Whalley calls it, took place in 1607, long after the
time of Elizabeth. The ballad is among the Harleian MSS., and is
also printed in the State Poems. It contains about forty stanzas of the
most wretched doggrel, conveying the opinion of as many members of
parliament on the subject, and as each of them is accompanied Tjy a brief
trait or description of the respective speakers, it might, notwithstanding
its meanness, have interested or amused the politicians of those days.
I subjoin a few of the characters as a specimen : —
" Quoth spruce Mr. James of the Isle of Wight.
Philip Gawdy stroak'd the old stubble of his face.
Then modest Sir John Hollis.
Sir Robert Cotton, well read in old stories.
T\\ss. precise Sir Antony Cope." — Vol. iv. p. 55.
The last line in the second edition runs thus : —
" Then precisely rose Sir Anthony Cope."
P. 88, 1. 10.—" Will Bagnall." In first edition " Tom.^' It is
probable that this person is William Bagwell, the hero of Gayton's
" Will Bagnall's Ghost," and author of "The Mystery of Astronomy,"
and "Wits Extraction." This piece will also be found at p. 157 of
" Wit Restor' d," with three additional stanzas.
P. 89, 1. 15.—" Jet it" to strut along.
"I see Parmenio come ^i^//«^like a lord." — Udal's Flowres, fol. 97.
P. 92, 1. 22. — "Patches" derived their origin from the Indians, and
■were called in the dialect of the vulgar, " beauty spots." They were
worn in the form of half moons, stars, and other extravagant designs.
See " Wit Restor'd," p. 140, 1. 9.
P. 92, 1. 27. — "Booker," the astrologer.
P. 96, 1. 5. — " Upon Sir John Sucklings most warlike preparations,''
dfc. Sir John Mennis seems to have had no regard for his fellow
poet, and here casts a stigma on his military character. On the 26th
of May, 1639, Charles's army arrived at Berwick, and came within
sight of the Scots at Dunse, where Sir John Suckling's troops, which he
had accoutred at a cost of 12,000/., retreated with the rest without
striking a blow. It has commonly been imagined that the lines —
" For he that fights and runs away,
May live to fight another day,"
attributed by Mr. Cunningham and Dr. Rimbault to Mennis, were to
be found in this poem, but they form no part of this volume. Vide
Notes and Queries, vols. i. ii. ix. x. This ballad is printed in Bishop
Percy's Reliques, and is there called " Sir John Suckling's Campaigne."
334 JViusarum JUeiuta.
p. 97, L (i.—"Johu de Weart." John de Wert was a German
general of great reputation, and the terror of the French in the reign of
Louis XIII. — Note to Percys Reliqws, Bohn's ed. 1845.
P. 98, I. I.—" The Old Cloaks reply.''' Vide p. 52.
P. 99, I. 17. — "Partus Ckauceri Postkumus." This piece is printed
in black-letter in the second edition.
P. 105, 1. i.—"Mary Prideaux." Daughter of Dr. John Prideaux,
King's Professor of Divinity at Oxford, 1615 ; Bishop of Worcester, 1641.
P. 107, 1. 9. — " Doctor PrideauK^s Son." r«(& supra.
P. 109, 1. I.—" Covent Garden.'' The morals of the locality about
this time were notorious :—
" Where holy friars told their beads,
And nuns confessed their evil deeds,
But oh, sad change ! oh shame to tell
How soon a prey to vice it fell !
How ? since its justest appellation,
Is Grand Seraglio to the nation." — Satire, 1736.
P. Ill, 1. 13:—
" naked Bedlams, painted Babies,
Spottified FaceSi and Frenchified Ladies."
Authority for the rhyme will be found in Shakspeare's Benedick.
"I can finde out no rime to ladie but babie, an innocent rime." — Much
Ado About Nothing, act v., ed. 1622.
At the time of the interregnum a pamphlet was published entitled
" The loathsomeness of long hair, with an appendix against painting,
spots, naked breasts, &c." A Bill against the vice of painting, wearing
black patches, and immodest dress of women was also read in the
House of Commons. See Granger, vol. iv. p. loi, ed. 1823.
P. 112, 1. I. — " To Sir John Mennis." When the King's cause
declined, Mennis adhered to Prince Rupert, while he roved on the
seas again'st the usurpers in England, taking Spanish ships by way of
reprisal for the respect they showed the Parliament. This poem pro-
bably belongs to this period, 1631-2.
P. 113, 1. 12. — "But a ." Protector, a fling at CromwelL
P. 114, 1. I. — "A Defiance to K. A," i.e., King Arthur.
P. 114, 1. II.— ".S^/4.," i.e.. King Arthur. " Sir Rhines of North-
gales," i.e.. King Ryons of North Wales, having overcome eleven kings,
they gave him their beards clean flayed off, wherewith he trimmed his
mantle, and there lacked one place wherefore he sent for. Arthur's
beard. Vide Sir Thos. Malory s Morte Arthur.
WIT RESTOR'D.
NOTES.
P. 119, 1. 1. — "Mr. Smith to Capt. Mennis," &'C. In 1639 Mennis
was captain of a troop of horse against the Scots. — Vide Mennis, p. 4,
and several poems in " Musarum DeUcise," pp. 28, 30, 44, 52, 98.
P. 119, 1. 4. — " Epsam Fearne." Vide Musarum Delicia, p. 21.
P. 120. I, 24. — "Street of woman Royall," Queen Street, Lincoln's-
inn-fields, where stood Conway House. — Pennant's London,
P. 121, 1. 10. — " That hast read stories," &'c. Pepys bears
frequent testimony to the accomplishments of Sir John Mennis : — 1662,
Oct. 30, he mentions "two passages" of his at dinner with my Lord
Mayor." 1663, Sept. 28, he is with Sir John at Whitehall, "looking
upon the pictures, in which he, hath some judgment." 1665, Sept. 22,
"discoursing concerning long life," Sir John Minnes saying that his,
great grandfather was alive in Edward Vjh's time. Numerous other
references will be found in his diary.
P. 121. 1. 19. — "Ren of Elie." Matthew Wren, Bishop of Ely,
1638-1667. William Piers or Pierce, was Bishop of Bath and Wells
at this time.
P. 121, 1. 22. — " MaxwoU." .Maxwell, Usher of the Black Rod.
P. 121, 1. 23. — "Finch." Sir' John Einch, appointed Lord Keeper,
Jan. 17, 1640 ; afterwards L,ord Finch.
P. 122, 1. 12. — "Got a boy," dfc. — ^viz., Henry IV., whose son,
Henry V., invaded France, gained Agincourt, and was made Vice-
regent, 1415.
P. 122, 1. i'i,^-"Alde>man hight ^&//." Abell, an Alderman of
London, who with one Kilvert was concerned in- a fraudulent latent
relating to the sale of wine. Vide Granger, iii, 249, ed."i823,
P. 124, 1. 10. — " Creeple." Cripple.
P. 125, 1. 21, — " Kenelme," &'c. The answer to this will be found
in Musarum Del., p. 28.
P. iz6, 1. 19. — " Andrev/' Mennis was own brother to the poet.
His eldest brother, born to his father by his first wife, EliiKibetA
336 Wit Res tor' d.
Warham, was named Matthew, and was knighted at the coronation of
Charles I. Her second son was named Thomas. Of the second wife,
Jane Blenchenden, were born yohii, Andrew, and Maria. — Visitation
of Kent, 1619. Harl. MS. 1106, f. 118.
P. 126, 1. 22.— '' Littleton." Edward Lord Lyttelton, made Lord
Keeper, Jan. 18, 1641.
P. 126, 1. 24. — " Sir John Bancks.^' Made Justice of Common Pleas,
Jan. 29, 1641.
P. 127, 1. 1.—" Herbert." Edward Herbert, created Attorney-
General, Jan. 29, 1641. — Foss's Judges.
P. 127, 1. 3. — "London Recorder." Thomas Gardiner, appointed
163s, was Recorder of London at this time. He was discharged for
long absence and succeeded by Peter Pheasant in 1643. Oliver St.
John, who was made Solicitor- General, Jan. 29, 1641, does not occur
in the list of Recorders of London, but may have acted for Gardiner
during his absence.
. P. 127, 1. 9. — "Sir lohn Berkly" valiantly defended himself at
Exeter. Willmott acted as Commissary-General under Lord Conway
at the battle of Newburne, Aug. 27, 1640.
P. 129, 1. 24. — " Tyring-bitt." Tire, to tear, rend to pieces ; the piece
of flesh or other matter used by falconers in training hawks.
P. 130. — " Carr," Sfc. William Ker, 3rd Earl of Lothian. Mount-
rosse, James Graham, 5th Earl of Montrose. Argile, Archibald
Campbell, 8th Earl of Argyle.
P. 134, 1. 6,.—" Fill-Dike."
" February fill dike, be it black or be it white,
But if it be white, its the better to like."
P. 134, 1. 14. — "William Murrey." Of the King's Bedchamber ; one
of those whom the Parliament wished to be removed from the King's
person. — Clarendon, Hist. Rebell., p. 157. Oxford ed. 1843.
P. 134, 1. 17.—" The Bear at the Bridge-foot," &=€. " Bull-bayting"
and "bear-baiting" were carried on at Bankside, near the foot of Old
London Bridge, but the bear-garden was removed to Clerkenwell about
1686.
P. 134, 1. 20. — " Wentworth," Sfic. Thomas, Lord Wentworth,
" Willmott" Henry, afterwards Lord, and subsequently Earl of
Rochester. " Weston," Sir Richard ; afterwards made Earl of Portland.
P. 135, 1. I. — " Burgandine." A Burgundy bear.
P. 135, 1. 3. — " Stradling." Sir Edward, taken prisoner by the'
Parliament forces at the battle of Edge-hill.
P. 135, 1. 5. — " Hugh Pollard" Sir Hugh Pollard, who accompanied
the Marquis of Hertford into the West. Vide Clarendon.
Notes. 337
P; '35) !• ?■ — " George'Jjoring." Afterwards General and Lord
Goring. Vide Clarendon.
P. 13s, 1. 17.—" Cornwallais." Probably Sir William Comwallis,
Knt. Vide Granger, iv. 159, ed. 1823.
P. 136, 1. \.~"Mr. Peter Apsley." Probably son of Sir Allen
Apsley. — Clarendon, p. 534.
P. 137.—" Crofts," &=€. William, afterwards Lord Crofts. "Kelli-
grew, " Thomas, King Charles's Jester.
P. 138, 1. I. — " The Bursse of Reformation." Gresham's Exchange
was founded in 1566, and opened by Queen Elizabeth in 1571, when
her herald named it the "Royal Exchange." The " ^Vra/ Exchange"
here alluded to was built in 1608. ' King James honoured the opening
with his presence, and named it ' ' Britain's Burse" It stood to the
North of Durham House in the Strand, and soon became a place of
fashionable resort, the rows of shops being filled with milliners, semp-
stresses, and the Kke. — Pennant's London.
P. 140, 1. 9. — " Here patches are," &=€. Vide note to p. 92 Mu-
sarum Del.
P. 157, 1. I. — " Bagnal's Ballet." Stanzas 6, 11, and 13 are
" supplied ;" otherwise this version agrees with that found in Musarum
Delicia, p. 88, which see, with the note thereon.
P. 164, 1. 4. — "Directory" The "Directory for the public worship
'of God" was drawn up at the instance of the Parliament in 1644. It
suppressed the book of Common Prayer, and enjoined the people to
make no response except Amen.
P. 164, 1. 9. — " Bristow City." Prince Rupert surrendered Bristol,
Sept. II, 164S, to Gen. Fairfax, almost without resistance, which cir-
cumstance was the ruin of King Charles's affairs in the West.
P. 16S, 1. 29. — " Mayerne." Sir Theodore Mayeme, a native of
Geneva, and physician to four kings — Henry IV. of France, James I.
of England, and the two Charleses. — Granger, iii. 116, ed. 1823.
P. 169, 1. 5. — " The Miller and the King's Daughter." A similar
ballad, entitled " The Barkshire Tragedy," and anoibei, " The Drowned
Lady," will be found in Mr. Thomas Hughes's " Scouring the White
Horse ;" both are combined in the one here given.
P. 173,1. 15. — " Felton, John.'' Assassinated the Duke of Bucking-
ham,. 1628.
P. 175, 1. 14. — "Commanders that wUl pes defend" Buckingham
was on the eve of departure for Rochelle to defend the Protestants, then
:losely besieged by Cardinal Richelieu.
P. 175, 1. 23. — " To the Duke of Buckingham" Another piece
addressed to him will be found at p. 209.
VOL. I. Z
338
Wit Restored.
p. 179. — "A non sequitur," &•€. This piece is inserted in Mr.
Gilchrist's collection of Dr. Corbet's Poems, but is not found in previous
editions.
P. 180, 1. I.—" On Oxford Schallers," &'c. When James I. paid a
second visit to Oxford in 1 62 1, Corbet, in his office of chaplain,
preached before thg King. Corbet was now Dean of Christchurch
and Vicar of Carrington, near Woodstock. This poem is also found
among Anthony a Wood's papers in the Ashmolean Museum.
P. 183, 1. I.—" Lord High Treasurer." Probably Sir John Bankes.
Obiit. 1644.
P. 184, 1. 7.—" Dr. Stroad." William Strood, Canon of Christchurch,
and public orator of Oxford Obiit. 1644. "An eminent poet," says
Ant. a Wood.
P. l86, 1. 8, — "On Christchurch windows," &'c. In 1630 the old
windows of the Cathedral, which contained the history of St. Frideswide,
were removed, and were replaced by new ones, the work of Abraham-
Van Luige, which in time were all marked for destruction by Henry
Wilkinson, whom the Parliament had appointed Visitor. The scriptural
subjects of these latter, containing the Nativity, Crucifixion, Resurrec-
tion, and Ascension,, are here admirably described.
P, i86, 1.9. — "Magdalen College Wall." Around the walls within
the cloister of Magdalen College, Oxford, are a series of hieroglyphical ■
sculptures, sacred and profane, r^ating to the import of which conjecture h
had frequently busied itself. About this time a solution of the subjects
was, made, and appeared in a Latin MS., entitled " CEdipus Magda-
lenensis"
P. igo, 1. 30. — " Lincolnes stately types." The author's own college*
There is some poetic licence or irony here, since Lincoln is described inK
the "Oxford Guide" as "so little attractive in its exterior." f
P. 200, 1. 16. — " On the death of Hobson!' He died in the time o'
the plague, 1630, in the 86th year of his age. The two last, " on tht
same," are slightly altered from Milton.
P. 209, 1. I. — " To the Duke of Buckingham" See p. 175 and note.
P. 230. 1. 12 " Tom Coriats." Vide MusarumDelicia, p. 20 and note.
P. 248, 1. 16. — " On Dr. Corbefs Marriage." He married, about
1625, Alice, the only daughter of Dr. Leonard Hutton, his fellow
collegian. Mr. Gilchrist, in his memoir, quotes this poem, and remarks':
" This union of wit and beauty was not looked upon with indifference,
nor was their epithalamium unsung, or the string touched by an unskilful
master." The offspring of this marriage were a daughter, Alice, and
a son, bom Nov. loth, 1627.
P. 260, 1. 23. — "jfames Atkins.'' "A Scotchman and Oxford scholar,
chaplain to James, Marquis of Hamilton. He died at Edinburgh, 1687,
set. 74 years." — Wood's Aihen. Oxun.
Notes. 339
p. 262, 1. 22. — " Philip Massinger." The dramatic poet ; 1584-1640.
P. 263, L 28 — " y. M." Sir John Mennis.
P. 275, 1. 22. — '■' Standish.'' " A standing ink-hom-glass." — Bailey's
Diet.
P. 277, 1. 10. — " Rebato." Part of a woman's ruff, so called because
put back towards the shoulders.
' ' Mong. Truth, I think your other rebato were nothing. "
Much Ado about Nothing, act iii. sc. 4.
P. 284, 1. 15. — " Quinborough." Queenborough, in Kent. A satire
upon some display of corporate wisdom by the mayor of that town upon
the occasion of a royal visit.
P. 291, 1. I'j.'—" Lockrum." " Lockram, a kind of cheap linen, worn
chiefly by the lower classes." — HalliwdVs Diet.
P. 293, 1. 8 — "^« old song." Mr. Bell, in his "Songs from the
Dramatists," gives a drinking song from " Gammer Gurton's Needle,"
by John Still, 1543-1607, of which the first stanza resembles this, but
all the others differ. Mr. Dyce, in his edition of Skelton's Works, gives
another ind earlier version of it from a MS. in his possession. Warton
quotes this song as the first chanson d. boire in our language.
P. 294, 1. 12. — "Beggers-Bush." A comedy by Beaumont and Fletcher.
This coarse composition is omitted in Mr. Bell's Collection of Songs
from the Dramatists.
P. 313. 1. 5. — " The Scots arrears." When Charles found his
situation hopeless, he took the fatal resolution of giving himself up to
the Scotch army. The English Parliament thereupon entered into a
treaty with the Scots about delivering up their prisoner upon payment
of 400,000/., which was cheerfully complied vnth. — Clarendon, i . 608.
P. 315, 1. 6. — " Reneaginge." Betraying, treachery.
P. 317, 1. I.—" The Rebell Scot." This bitter invective is by John
Cleveland, a most zealous Royalist. Aubrey informs us that he
went from Oxford to Newark, where, upon drawing up certain articles
for the King's followers, he would needs add this short conclusion :
' ' And we annex our lives as a label to our trust."
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