Skip to main content

Full text of "Facetiae. Musarum deliciæ: or, The muses recreation. conteining severall pieces of poetique wit"




OJorncU IniuecattH Etbcarg 



BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE 

SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND 

THE GIFT OF 

HENRY W. SAGE 

1891 



Cornell University Library 
PR 1209.F2 1874 
v.1-2 
Facetiae. Musarum deliciaeior, The muses 



3 1924 012 980 664 




Cornell University 
Library 



The original of tiiis book is in 
tine Cornell University Library. 

There are no known copyright restrictions in 
the United States on the use of the text. 



http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924012980664 



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." 



LONDON : 
SAVILL, EDWARDS AND CO., PKINTERS, CHANDOS STREET, 
COVENT GARDEN. 



w 







:*mSi