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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44855 ***
+
+Transcriber's note:
+
+In this text a superscript character is indicated with ^
+
+The macron is indicated with [=a] [=e]
+
+The many inconsistencies in this book are as in the original.
+
+Greek is rendered phoentically.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+  _Demy 16mo, 3s. 6d. each.
+  Bound in paper boards, with parchment back._
+
+  THE POCKET LIBRARY
+
+  OF
+
+  ENGLISH LITERATURE
+
+  EDITED BY GEORGE SAINTSBURY
+
+  A collection, in separate volumes, partly of extracts from
+  long books, partly of short pieces, by the same writer, on the
+  same subject, or of the same class.
+
+  Vol. I.--TALES OF MYSTERY.
+      II.--POLITICAL VERSE.
+     III.--DEFOE'S MINOR NOVELS.
+      IV.--POLITICAL PAMPHLETS.
+       V.--SEVENTEENTH CENTURY LYRICS.
+      VI.--ELIZABETHAN AND JACOBEAN PAMPHLETS.
+
+  LONDON: PERCIVAL & CO.
+
+
+
+
+  ELIZABETHAN & JACOBEAN
+  PAMPHLETS
+
+  EDITED BY
+  GEORGE SAINTSBURY
+
+  LONDON
+  PERCIVAL AND CO.
+  1892
+
+
+
+
+  CONTENTS
+
+
+                                                                  PAGE
+
+  INTRODUCTION                                                       vii
+
+  I. THOMAS LODGE.
+  Reply to Gosson                                                      1
+
+  II. JOHN LYLY (?)
+  Pap with a Hatchet                                                  43
+
+  III. NICHOLAS BRETON.
+  A Pretty and Witty Discourse                                        84
+
+  IV. ROBERT GREENE.
+  Groat's Worth of Wit                                               115
+
+  V. GABRIEL HARVEY.
+  Precursor to Pierce's Supererogation                               164
+
+  VI. THOMAS NASH.
+  Prognostication                                                    185
+
+  VII. THOMAS DEKKER.
+  The Gull's Hornbook                                                209
+
+  NOTES                                                              277
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+I can conceive some readers, not necessarily frivolous,
+anticipating little pleasure from a volume devoted
+to examples of Elizabethan and Jacobean
+pamphlets. It must be the business of the volume I
+have planned to convince them that they are wrong.
+But even before that volume is read, I think it not
+impossible to show cause for its right to exist. The
+originals of these pamphlets, except a few which have
+become familiar in consequence of their bearing on
+Shakespearian questions, were till recently almost
+unknown, except to a few scholars and antiquaries,
+and are still for the most part inaccessible except in
+the original editions, which are bought at large prices
+by collectors, or in limited and often privately issued
+modern reprints. Yet their interest is very great. The
+pamphlet of the late sixteenth and early seventeenth
+century corresponded much more nearly to the modern
+periodical than to anything else, unless, indeed, it be
+the modern newspaper. It included fiction, sketches of
+society, accounts of travel, literary criticism, personal
+controversy, theology,--the whole farrago, in short, of
+the non-political columns of our journals. It was in
+many cases written by men of much greater talent than
+the average journalist of the present day. In one
+remarkable case--that of the so-called Martin Marprelate
+controversy--it holds a position almost unique,
+or only shared by the not wholly dissimilar groups of
+literature which included and grew up round Pascal's
+_Provinciales_ and the _Tracts for the Times_. Above
+all, it has the advantage of a singular variety of subject,
+and of presenting the opportunity of making a great
+number of lively extracts, certainly faithful to the
+manners of the time, and showing those manners in a
+fashion not easy to surpass in freshness, contrast of
+colour, and incisive outline.
+
+The pamphlet was one of the most immediate and
+necessary creations of the printing press. Before that
+invention it was hardly possible, and a very considerable
+time had to elapse afterwards before the
+combination of education in the reader, command
+of mechanical means in the diffuser, and changed
+political conditions, enabled the newspaper to supplant
+it. The pamphlet, so far as production is
+concerned, when once private presses are accessible,
+gives few hostages to fortune or to the strong hand of
+authority. It may make but a single appearance, and
+then the type is broken up, the machinery removed,
+and the printed copies left to find their way and do
+their work. A newspaper must have more or less of
+a headquarters, definite managers, at the very least a
+regular place and time of appearance at which it can be
+waited for and snapped up. Of the advantages offered
+by the pamphlet there is a good example in the fact
+that under the active, intelligent, and almost despotic
+government of Elizabeth, though the Martin Marprelate
+tracts excited the intensest hatred not merely of
+the lay authorities but of a powerful and omnipresent
+ecclesiastical corporation, the presses were only once
+(at Newton Lane in Lancashire) discovered and seized.
+In less perilous matter the pamphlet, if it did not give
+so much protection, 'obliged' even less. Its cost was
+small; the author was in no way bound to follow it
+up with anything else. It took him but a little time to
+produce; its profit, if there was any, came in quickly;
+it could be sold out before pirates could get hold of
+it; it did not frighten the unlearned by bulk and
+pretensions. On the other hand, of course, it had its
+drawbacks. It was of its nature, and in more points
+than one of that nature, ephemeral. The chances
+were rather against than in favour of its being
+preserved; for even in these days when most people
+have a library or book-room of some kind, the very
+student himself acknowledges with gnashings of teeth
+the way things published in pamphlet form have of
+'going under,' of simply disappearing, he cannot
+tell how or whither. Hence the real and intrinsic
+interest of the pamphlet has had added to it the
+accidental and factitious interest of rarity. It is
+hardly a paradox to say that one of the best chances
+which such a thing had of surviving was the fact of
+its being proscribed and burnt by the hangman.
+There was then some reason for treasuring it instead
+of letting it go to clean boots, light fires, and wrap
+pounds of butter.
+
+The pamphlets of the Elizabethan age were almost
+as often in verse as in prose, the superior attraction
+of verse for early and uncultivated audiences not
+having died out. Indeed, far later than the period
+covered by this volume, things continued to be
+written in verse which were merely pamphlets, and
+gave us both matter of eternity, such as _Absalom and
+Achitophel_ or _Religio Laici_, and hard-bound doggerel
+like Defoe's _True-Born Englishman_ and _Jure Divino_.
+The Elizabethan verse pamphlet, which was largely
+written by Thomas Churchyard, Nicholas Breton,
+John Davies, Samuel Rowlands, and others, is a
+curiosity, but as a rule very little more; and I do not
+propose to give any examples of it here. Nor, the
+space at my command being all too limited, have I
+thought it necessary to draw in this present volume
+on the miscellaneous pamphlets of the times. The examples
+will be taken from what may be called the great
+single pamphleteers or pamphlet collections--that is
+to say, Lodge, Greene, Nash, Harvey, 'Martin Marprelate'
+and the anti-Martinists, Breton, and Dekker.
+Some particulars of each of the selected authors or
+groups may appropriately be given in this introduction.
+
+No minor Elizabethan author is better known than
+Robert Greene, partly from the fact that he touches
+Shakespeare, and partly from the other fact that his
+short and ill-spent life was that of the typical Bohemian,
+and so interests those who like gossip about men of
+letters. He was born in 1560 at Norwich, was
+educated at Clare Hall, Cambridge (being also subsequently
+incorporated at Oxford), travelled on the
+Continent, married, treated his wife very badly, may
+have been both a clerk in orders and a student of
+medicine, lived recklessly in London as a dramatist and
+pamphleteer, and died at the age of thirty-two either
+_propter_ or merely _post_ undue consumption of pickled
+herrings and Rhenish wine. His plays, though full
+of the ante-Shakespearian crudity and unskilled workmanship,
+have many graceful touches; the songs
+which he scattered about both his plays and his
+poems are frequently charming; his pamphlets, which,
+short as his life was, are very numerous, perhaps rank,
+on the whole, above those of any other Elizabethan
+writer for combined bulk, variety, and merit. They
+were produced in the space of about ten years
+(1583-92). Those certainly known to be his, or
+probably attributed to him, are nearly thirty in
+number, and almost defy classification. Some of
+them approach that strange type of novel consisting
+of a minimum of story, a maximum of moralising, and,
+if I may say so, a _plusquam_-maximum of conceited style,
+the example of which had been set in Lyly's _Euphues_.
+Not a few are personal reminiscences--how far deliberately
+imbued with an exaggerated profession of
+repentance in order to hit readers with both barrels
+it is very hard to say. A distinct and very
+interesting set deals with the ways of the Elizabethan
+'conny-catcher,' the 'Captain Rook' (though
+usually of lower grade) of the time. Others are
+pure book-making, as we should call it now,
+about subjects which for political or other reasons
+happened to be in the public eye at the moment.
+Greene is certainly one of the most typical of his
+fellowship.
+
+With him and close to him may be ranked Thomas
+Lodge, who was his contemporary, and for a time
+his comrade; but who, unlike Greene, settled down
+as a Roman Catholic physician, and outliving the
+hapless 'Roberto' more than thirty years, did not die
+till the last year of James. Lodge had perhaps higher
+powers than Greene, except in drama. One of his
+pamphlets, 'Rosalynde' or 'Euphues' Golden Legacy',
+gave Shakespeare, as most people now know, the
+subject of _As You Like It_, and has been more than
+once reprinted for that reason. He had also a faculty
+of which Greene shows no trace whatever--that of an
+accomplished literary critic; and twice, in answer to
+Gosson and Campion, took the right side against some
+of the literary heresies which animated that active and
+fruitful time. He was decidedly best in the euphuist
+romance, but he also practised the social satire
+pamphlet with no small success.
+
+Nash and Harvey shared with Greene the luck,
+good or other, of being earlier presented in their lives,
+and in at least some of their works, to modern writers
+than their fellows. Indeed, Greene's not wholly enviable
+fame is as much due to the quarrels of these two
+as to his own works. Gabriel Harvey, the elder but
+very much the less able of the two, was a Fellow of
+Pembroke College, Cambridge, a friend of Sidney
+and of Spenser (whose _Faërie Queene_ he unmercifully
+snubbed, preferring the curious fancy of classical
+metres which was long patronised by the 'Areopagus'
+or Sidneian clique), and a man of real scholarship. But
+his exemplification of the worst faults of the university
+prig, and the pitiless exposure of them in his controversy
+with Thomas Nash (a younger Cambridge man,
+and wielder of the sharpest and most unscrupulous
+pen of his time), have brought down such hard language
+on him from most literary historians that one or two
+charitable or paradoxical souls have been tempted
+to take up the cudgels on his side. To this length,
+I cannot go. Why Harvey and Nash quarrelled no
+one knows exactly; but the quarrel, the pamphlet
+results of which make up the greater part of Harvey's
+work, plays only a small part in that of Nash. The
+very quarrel itself had, or seems to have had, something
+to do with the strange Marprelate business to
+be noticed presently, and Nash is at least with great
+probability supposed author of some of the chief
+numbers of that controversy on the anti-Martinist side.
+But he wrote not a little other pamphlet-matter, never
+quite attempting the euphuist romance in which his
+friends Greene and Lodge delighted, but producing
+discourses of apparitions in anticipation of Defoe,
+pious tractates expressing, or professing to express,
+his repentance for evil living, puffs (though this is
+rather an unkind word), such as his _Lenten Stuff_,
+eulogistic of the herrings which were the staple
+commodity of his native coast, and a curious book
+called _The Unfortunate Traveller_, dealing with the
+grand tour, and containing among other things the
+well-known romance (for romance it would seem to be)
+of Surrey the poet and his Geraldine. Where Nash
+stands eminent among the writers of the time is in
+his faculty of boisterous and burlesque abuse, which,
+in his famous lampoon upon Harvey, _Have with you
+to Saffron Walden_ (Harvey's birthplace), displayed itself
+in a manner not easy to parallel elsewhere in
+English.
+
+It is very hard to give in very brief space an
+account of the Martin Marprelate matter, yet without
+some such account extracts from it must be hardly
+intelligible. It began about the year 1588, chiefly
+owing to the action of a certain Reverend Nicholas
+Udall, a puritan divine who struck into the controversy
+between the Episcopal and Presbyterian parties in the
+Church, and embittered it by the use of language
+so violent that he himself was imprisoned and his
+printer's press seized. This printer, Waldegrave, enraged
+thereat, lent his art to members of the puritan
+sect even more violent than Udall (their exact
+identity is matter of controversy), and a fire of
+pamphlets was opened by them, the earliest being
+called _The Epistle_ and _The Epitome_. In the first
+place, Dean Bridges of Salisbury and Bishop Cooper
+of Winchester, then other dignitaries, were assailed with
+real vigour and ability, but with the most unscrupulous
+partisanship, and in a dialect which for extravagance
+of abusive language had not been surpassed in the
+heat of the earlier Reformation controversies, and has
+scarcely been approached since. The partisans of
+the Church were fully equal to the occasion; and a
+counter fire of pamphlets, some of which are attributed
+with great probability to Nash, and others with
+hardly less to the Oxford dramatist and euphuist Lyly,
+was returned. The heat of the controversy lasted
+chiefly through three years--1588, 1589, and 1590;
+but it may be said in the widest sense to have endured
+for nearly seven--from 1586 to 1593, when Penry and
+Barrow, the supposed chiefs of the Martinists, were
+executed. Of the style of this singular controversy the
+extract will, I trust, give a sufficient idea. As to its
+matter, it is difficult to be more precise than this:
+that the object of the Martinist pamphleteers was to
+decry episcopacy by every possible description of personal
+abuse, applied to the holders and the defenders of
+the episcopal office, and that the object of their opponents
+of the same class (for men like Cooper and Bridges,
+still more like Whitgift and Hooker, stand in an
+entirely different category) was not so much to defend
+that office as to fling back in double measure the
+abuse upon 'Martin,' as the generic name went,
+and upon his known or supposed embodiments and
+partisans.
+
+There can be few greater contrasts than between
+this furious ribaldry, as it too often is, and the mild
+mediocrity of Nicholas Breton. His claim to a place
+here (even if his merit be rated much lower than
+some have rated it) is, that he is the chief writer
+of the kind who is both in verse and prose a pamphleteer
+pure and simple. You cannot (at least I
+cannot) call Breton a poet, but he wrote immense
+quantities of verse, and in prose he pamphleted with
+such copiousness and persistence for nearly half a
+century, that it is clear there must have been money
+to be made by the practice.
+
+The last of our chief single authors is Thomas
+Dekker, a very much greater man than Breton, though
+not so great in prose as in verse. He was somewhat
+later even in his beginning than the other writers I
+have noticed; and though his prose has not the formal
+merit or charm of his exquisite songs and his wonderful
+romantic character in drama, it is very interesting
+in matter. He paraphrases (_The Bachelor's Banquet_,
+_The Gull's Hornbook_) with remarkable freedom and
+skill; he chronicles plague years; he takes a hint from
+Greene, and extends and varies that author's satirical
+exposition of London tricks in a long and extremely
+vivid series of pamphlets, such as _The Bellman of London_,
+_The Seven Deadly Sins of London_, _Lanthorn and
+Candle Light_, _News from Hell_, and half a dozen others.
+In these, though of course a certain allowance must
+be made for the pressman's exaggeration in dealing
+with such subjects, there is a most singular and
+interesting picture of the lower and looser classes in
+England, at least in the English capital, at the time.
+
+In this little book, after one or two changes of plan,
+I have finally decided on giving only entire pamphlets--a
+specimen of literary criticism from Lodge, of autobiographic
+romance from Greene, of politico-religious
+controversy from the Martin Marprelate series, of
+mingled self-panegyric and lampoon from Harvey, of
+burlesque from Nash, of paraphrase of foreign matter
+adapted to English conditions from Dekker, and of
+what may be called hack-work for the press from
+Breton. The annotation is deliberately limited to the
+removal of some of the most obvious stumbling-blocks
+to current reading. A full commentary on _The Gull's
+Hornbook_ alone would fill another volume, and the
+object in these books is to give text not comment.
+
+
+
+
+I.--THOMAS LODGE
+
+(_Stephen Gosson's_ Schoole of Abuse _has acquired
+something like fame in virtue of one of the answers to it--Sidney's_
+Defence of Poetry. _That interesting little
+book has been frequently reprinted of late, and some
+knowledge of it, and of Gosson's attack which caused it,
+may be taken as common. Lodge's attempt, made as a
+very young man, to do what Sidney did is far less
+familiar even to students. It was reprinted in 1853,
+and again in the rare and costly private issue by
+the Hunterian Club of Lodge's whole works; but
+the author of the introductory essay to that issue, my
+friend Mr. Gosse, has been somewhat unkind (I cannot
+say unjust) to it. It is, indeed, no great thing;
+but as a very early example of literary criticism by
+pamphlet, which has lacked the modern reprinting
+accorded to Webbe, Puttenham, Daniel, and other critics
+of the same time, I thought it might find appropriate
+place here._)
+
+A REPLY TO STEPHEN GOSSON'S SCHOOLE OF ABUSE
+IN DEFENCE OF POETRY, MUSICK, AND STAGE
+PLAYS.
+
+_Protogenes_ can know _Apelles_ by his line though he
+se[e] him not, and wise men can consider by the
+Penn the aucthoritie of the writer, thoughe they know
+him not. The Rubie is discerned by his pale rednes,
+and who hath not h[e]ard that the Lyon is knowne by
+hys clawes. Though _Æsopes_ craftie crowe be never so
+deftlye decked, yet is his double dealing e[a]sely
+desiphered: and though men never so perfectly pollish
+there wrytings with others sentences, yet the simple
+truth wil discover the shadow of ther follies: and
+bestowing every fether in the bodye of the right M.
+tourne out the naked dissembler into his owen cote,
+as a spectacle of follye to all those which can rightlye
+judge what imperfections be.
+
+There came to my hands lately a litle (woulde
+God a wittye) pamphelet, baring a fayre face as though
+it were the sc[h]oole of abuse, but being by me
+advisedly wayed I fynd it the oftscome of imperfections,
+the writer fuller of wordes than judgement; the
+matter certainely as ridiculus as seri[o]us. Asuredly
+his mother witte wrought this wonder, the child to
+disprayse his father, the dogg to byte his mayster for
+his dainty morcell. But I se[e] (with _Seneca_) yt the
+wrong is to be suffered, since he disprayseth, who by
+costome hath left to speake well; bot I meane to be
+short: and teach the Maister what he knoweth not,
+partly that he may se his owne follie, and partly that
+I may discharge my promise, both binde me. Therefore
+I would with the good scholmayster to over looke
+his abuses againe with me, so shall he see an ocean
+of inormities which begin in his first prinsiple in the
+disprayse of poetry.
+
+And first let me familiarly consider with this find
+faulte what the learned have alwayes esteemed of
+poetrie. _Seneca_ thoughe a stoike would have a
+poeticall sonne, and amongst the auncientest _Homer_
+was no les accompted than _Humanus deus_. What
+made Alexander I pray you esteme of him so much?
+Why allotted he for his works so curious a closset?
+Was ther no fitter under prop for his pillow the[n] a
+simple pamphelet? In all _Darius_ cofers was there no
+Jewell so costly? Forso[o]th my thinks these two
+(the one the father of Philosophers, the other the
+cheftaine of chivalrie) were both deceived if all were
+as a _Gosson_ would wish them, yf poets paynt naughte
+but palterie toyes in vearse, their studies tended to
+folishnesse, and in all their inde[a]vors they did
+naught els but _agendo nihil agere_. Lord how Virgil's
+poore gnatt pricketh him, and how Ovid's fley byteth
+him, he can beare no bourde, he hath raysed up a
+new sect of seri[o]us stoikes, that can abide naught
+but their owen shadowe, and alow nothing worthye,
+but what they conceave. Did you never reade (my
+over wittie frend) that under the persons of beastes
+many abuses were dissiphered? Have you not reason
+to waye? that whatsoever e[i]ther Virgil did write of
+his gnatt, or Ovid of his fley, was all covertly to declare
+abuse? But you are (_homo literatus_) a man of the
+letter, little savoring of learning, your giddy brain
+made you leave your thrift, and your abuses in London
+some part of your honestie. You say that Poets
+are subtil, if so, you have learned that poynt of them,
+you can well glose on a trifleling text: but you have
+dronke perhaps of _Lethe_, your gram[m]er learning is
+out of your head, you forget your Accidence, you
+reme[m]ber not that under the person of _Æneas_ in
+Virgil, the practice of a dilligent captaine is discribed,
+under ye shadow of byrds, beastes, and trees, the
+follies of the world were disiphered, you know not
+that the creation is signified in the Image of _Prometheus_,
+the fall of pryde in the person of _Narcissus_,
+these are toyes because they savour of wisedom which
+you want. Marke what _Campanus_ sayth, _Mira fabularum
+vanitas sed quæ si introspiciantur videri possunt
+non vanæ_. The vanitie of tales is wonderful, yet if
+we advisedly looke into them they wil seme and
+prove wise. How wonderful are the pithie poems of
+_Cato_! the curious comidies of _Plautus_! how bravely
+discovereth _Terence_ our imperfectio[n] in his _Eunuch_!
+how neatly dissiphereth he _Dauus_! how pleasauntly
+paynteth he out _Gnatho_! whom if we should seeke in
+our dayes, I suppose he would not be farr from your
+parson. But I see you woulde seeme to be that
+which you are not, and as the proverb sayth _Nodum
+in Cirpo quærere_. Poets you say use coullors to
+cover their incoviences, and wittie sentences to burnish
+theyr bawdery, and you divinite to cover your knaverye.
+
+But tell mee truth _Gosson_, speakest thou as thou
+thinkest? What coelers findest thou in a Poete not
+to be admitted? Are his speaches unperfect? Savor
+they of inscience? I think if thou hast any shame
+thou canst not but like and approve the[m]. Are
+ther gods displesant unto thee? doth _Saturne_ in his
+majesty move thee? doth _Juno_ with her riches displease
+thee? doth _Minerva_ with her weapon discomfort
+thee? doth _Apollo_ with his harping harme thee?
+Thou mayst say nothing les then harme thee because
+they are not, and I thinke so to[o] because thou
+knowest them not. For wot thou that in the person
+of _Saturne_ our decaying yearss are signified, in the
+picture of angry _Juno_ our affections are dissiphered,
+in ye person of _Minerva_ is our understa[n]ding signified,
+both in respect of warre, as policie. When they
+faine that _Pallas_ was begotten of the braine of _Jupiter_
+their meaning is none other but that al wisdome (as
+the learned say) is from above, and commeth from
+the father of Lights: in the portrature of _Apollo_ all
+knowledge is denocated. So that, what so they wrot
+it was to this purpose, in the way of pleasure to draw
+men to wisedome: for se[e]ing the world in those daies
+was unperfect, yt was necessary that they like good
+Phisi[ci]ons should so frame their potions, that they
+might be appliable to the quesie stomaks of their
+werish patients. But our studientes by your meanes
+have made shipwrack of theyr labors, our schoole-maisters
+have so offended that by your judgement
+they shall _subire poenam capitis_ for teaching poetry,
+the universitie is litle beholding to you, al their practices
+in teaching are frivolus. Witt hath wrought that
+in you, that yeares and studie never set[t]led in the
+heads of our sagest doctors.
+
+No mervel though you disprayse poetrye, when you
+know not what it meanes. _Erasmus_ will make that the
+pathwaye to knowledge which you disprayse, and no
+meane fathers vouchsafe in their seriouse questions
+of divinitie, to inserte poeticall sensures.
+
+I think if we shal wel overloke ye Philosophers,
+we shal find their judgeme[n]ts not halfe perfect.
+Poetes you say fayle in their fables, Philosophers in
+the verye secrets of Nature. Though _Plato_ could
+wish the expulsion of Poetes from his well publiques,
+which he might doe with reason, yet the wisest had not
+all that same opinion, it had bene better for him to
+have se[a]rcht more narowly what the soule was, for
+his definition was verye frivolus, when he would make
+it naught els but _Substantiam intelectu predictam_. If
+you say that Poetes did labour about nothing, tell me (I
+besech you) what wonders wroughte those your dunce
+Doctors in ther reasons _de ente et non ente_, in theyr
+definition of no force and les witt? How sweate
+they power soules in makinge more things then
+co[u]ld be! That I may use your owne phrase, did
+not they spende one candle by seeking another?
+_Democritus Epicurus_ with ther scholler _Metrodorus_
+how labored they in finding out more worlds the[n]
+one? Your _Plato_ in midst of his presisnes wrought
+that absurdite that never may be redd in Poets, to
+make a yearthly creature to beare the person of the
+creator, and a corruptible substaunce an incomprehensible
+God: for determining of the principall
+causes of all thinges, a made them naughte els but
+an _Idea_ which if it be conferred wyth the truth, his
+sentence will savour of Inscience. But I speake for
+Poetes, I answeare your abuse, therefore I will disprove
+or disprayse naught, but wish you with the wise _Plato_,
+to disprayse that thing you offend not in.
+
+_Seneca_ sayth that the studdie of Poets is to make
+childre[n] ready to the understanding of wisedom, and
+yt our auncients did teache _artes Eleutherias. i. liberales_,
+because the instructed childre[n] by the instrume[n]t of
+knowledg in time became _homines liberi. i. Philosophye_.
+It may be that in reding of poetry, it happened to
+you as it is with the Oyster, for she in her swimming
+receiveth no ayre, and you in your reeding lesse
+instruction. It is reported that the shepe of Euboia
+want ther gale, and one the contrarye side that the
+beastes of _Naxus_ have _distentum fel_. Men hope that
+scollers should have witt brought upp in the Universite,
+but your sweet selfe with the cattell of Euboia, since
+you left your College have lost your learning. You
+disprayse _Maximinus Tirius_ pollicey, and that thinge
+that he wrott to manifest learned Poets meaning, you
+atribute to follye. O holy hedded man, why may
+not _Juno_ resemble the ayre? why not _Alexander_
+valour? why not _Ulisses_ pollice? Will you have all
+for you[r] owne tothe? Must men write that you
+maye know theyr meaning as though your wytt were
+to wrest all things? Alas simple _Irus_, begg at knowledge
+gate awhile, thou haste not wonne the mastery
+of learning. Weane thyself to wisedome, and use thy
+tallant in zeale not for envie, abuse not thy knowledge
+in dispraysing that which is pereles: I shold blush
+from a player, to become an enviouse preacher, if
+thou hadst zeale to preach, if for _Sions_ sake thou
+co[u]ldst not holde thy tongue, thy true dealing were
+prayse worthy, thy revolting woulde counsell me to
+reverence thee. Pittie weare it that poetrye should be
+displaced, full little could we want _Buchanan's_ workes,
+and _Boetius_ comfortes may not be banished. What
+made _Erasmus_ labor in _Euripides_ tragedies? Did
+he inde[a]vour by painting them out of Greeke into
+Latine to manifest sinne unto us, or to confirm us in
+goodnes? Labor (I pray thee) in Pamphelets more
+prayse worthy; thou haste not saved a Senator, therefore
+not worthye a Lawrell wre[a]th, thou hast not
+(in disproving poetry) reproved an abuse, and therfore
+not worthy commendation.
+
+_Seneca_ sayth that _Magna vitæ pars elabitur
+male agentibus, maxima nihill agentibus, tota aliud
+agentibus_, the most of our life (sayd he) is spent
+e[i]ther in doing evill, or nothing, or that wee should
+not, and I would wish you weare exempted from this
+sensure. Geve eare but a little more what may be
+said for poetrie, for I must be briefe. You have
+made so greate matter that I may not stay on one
+thing to[o] long, lest I leave another untouched.
+
+And first whereas you say, yt _Tullie_ in his yeres
+of more judgement despised Poetes, harke (I pray
+you) what he worketh for them in his oratio[n] _pro
+Archia poeta_. But before you heare him, least you
+fayle in the incounter, I would wysh you to follow
+the advise of the dasterdlye Ichneumon of _Ægipt_,
+who when shee beholdeth the Aspis her enemye to
+drawe nighe, calleth her fellowes together, bisme[a]ring
+herselfe with claye, against the byting and stroke
+of the serpent, arme yourselfe, cal your witts together:
+want not your wepons, lest your inperfect
+judgement be rewardede with Midas eares. You had
+neede play the night burd now, for yon day Owl hath
+misconned his parte, and for to-who now a dayes he
+cryes foole you: which hath brought such a sort of
+wondering birds about your eares, as I feare me will
+chatter you out of your Ivey bush. The worlde shames
+to see you, or els you are afrayde to shew yourselfe.
+
+You thought poetrye should want a patron (I
+think) when you fyrste published this invective, but
+yet you fynd al to[o] many eve[n] _preter expectation[=e]_,
+yea though it can speake for it self, yet her patron
+_Tullie_ now shall tell her tale, _Hæc studia_, (sayth he)
+_adolescentiam alunt, senectutem oblectant, secundas res
+ornant, adversis perfugium ac Solatium prebent, delectant
+domi, non impediunt foris, pernoctant nobiscum, peregri[n]antur
+rusticantur_. Then will you disprayse yt
+which all men commend? You looke only upon ye
+refuse of ye abuse, nether respecting the importance
+of ye matter nor the weighe of ye wryter.
+
+_Solon_ can fayne himself madde, to further the
+Athenians. _Chaucer_ in pleasant vain can rebuke sin
+uncontrold, and though he be lavish in the letter,
+his sence is serious. Who in Rome lame[n]ted not
+Roscius death? And ca[n]st thou suck no plesure
+out of thy _M. Claudians_ writings? Hark what
+_Cellarius_ a learned father attributed to it, _acuit memoriam_
+(saith he) it profiteth the memory. Yea, and
+_Tully_ attributeth it for prais to _Archias_ yt upon any
+theame he co[u]ld versify exte[m]pory. Who liketh
+not of the promptness of _Ovid_? Who not unworthely
+co[u]ld boast of himself thus _Quicquid conabar dicere
+versus erat_. Who then doothe not wonder at poetry?
+Who thinketh not yt it procedeth fro[m] above?
+What made ye Chians and Colophonians fal to such
+controversy? Why seke ye Smirnians to recover
+fro[m] ye Salaminians the prais of _Homer_? Al wold
+have him to be of ther city, I hope not for harme,
+but because of his knoledge. _Themistocles_ desireth
+to be acquainted with those w^c could best discipher
+his praises. Even _Marius_ himselfe, tho never so
+cruel, acco[m]pted of _Plotinus_ poems. What made
+_Aphricanus_ esteme _Ennius_? Why did Alexander
+give prais to _Achilles_ but for ye prayses which he
+found writte[n] of hym by _Homer_? Why estemed
+_Pompie_ so muche of _Theophanes Mitiletus_, or _Brutus_
+so greatlye the wrytinges of _Accius_? _Fuluius_ was so
+great a favorer of poetry, that after the Aetolian
+warres, he attributed to the Muses those spoiles that
+belonged to Mars. In all the Romaine conquest,
+h[e]ardest thou ever of a slayne Poete? nay rather
+the Emperours honored them, beautified them with
+benefites, and decked their sanctuaries which [with]
+sacrifice. _Pindarus_ colledg is not fit for spoil of
+_Alexander_ overcome, nether feareth poetry ye persecutors
+sword. What made _Austin_ so much affectate
+ye heavenly fury? not folly, for if I must needes
+speake, _illud non ausim affirmare_, his zeale was in
+setting up the house of God, not in affectate
+eloquence, he wrot not, he accompted not. He
+honnored not, so much that (famous poetry) whyche
+we prayse, without cause, for if it be true that
+_Horace_ reporteth in his booke _de arte poetica_, all the
+answeares of the Oracles weare in verse. Among the
+precise Jewes you shall find Poetes, and for more
+majestie _Sibilla_ will prophesie in verse. _Hiroaldus_
+can witnes with me, that _David_ was a poet, and
+that his vayne was in imitating (as S. Jerom witnesseth)
+_Horace_, _Flaccus_, and _Pindarus_, somtimes
+his verse runneth in an _Iambus_ foote, anone he hath
+recourse to a _Saphier_ vaine, and _aliquando, semipede
+ingreditur_. Ask _Josephus_, and he will tel you that
+Esay, Job and Salomon voutsafed poetical practises,
+for (if _Origen_ and he fault not) theyre verse was
+_Hexameter and pentameter_. Enquire of _Cassiodorus_,
+he will say that all the beginning of Poetrye proceeded
+from the Scripture. _Paulinus_ tho the byshop
+of _Nolanum_ yet voutsafe the name of a Poet, and
+_Ambrose_ tho he be a patriarke in _mediolan[=u]_ loveth
+versising. _Beda_ shameth not ye science that shamelesse
+_Gosson_ misliketh. Reade over _Lactantius_, his
+proofe is by poetry, and _Paul_ voutsafeth to overlooke
+_Epimenides_; let the Apostle preach at Athens he
+disdaineth not of Aratus authorite. It is a pretye
+sentence yet not so prety as pithy, _Poeta nascitur
+orator fit_, as who should say, Poetrye commeth from
+above from a heavenly seate of a glorious God unto
+an excellent creature man, an orator is but made by
+exercise. For if wee examine well what befell _Ennius_
+amonge the Romans, and Hesiodus among his
+co[u]ntrimen the Gretians, howe they came by theyr
+knowledge whence they receved their heavenly furye,
+the first will tell us that sleping upon the Mount of
+Parnassus he dreamed that he received the soule of
+_Homer_ into him, after the which he became a Poete,
+the next will assure you that it commeth not by
+labor, nether that night watchings bringeth it, but
+yt we must have it thence whence he fetched it
+w^c was (he saith) fro[m] a wel of ye Muses w^c
+_Cabelimus_ calleth _Por[=u]_, a draught whereof drewe
+him to his perfection, so of a shephard he becam an
+eloque[n]t poet.
+
+Wel the[n] you see yt it commeth not by exercise
+of play making, nether insertio[n] of gawds, but from
+nature and from above: and I hope yt _Aristotle_ hath
+sufficiently taught you that _Natura nihil fecit frustra_.
+
+_Perseus_ was made a poete _divino furore percitus_.
+And whereas the poets were sayde to call for the
+Muses helpe ther mening was no other as _Iodocus
+Badius_ reporteth, but to call for heavenly inspiration
+from above to direct theyr ende[a]vors. Nether were
+it good for you to sette light by the name of a poet
+since ye oftspring from whence he cometh is so
+heavenly. _Sibilla_ in hir answers to _Æneas_ against
+hir will as the poet telleth us was possessed with
+thys fury, ye wey consideratly but of the writing of
+poets, and you shal se[e] than whe[n] ther matter is
+most heavenly, their stile is most loftye, a strange
+token of the wonderfull efficacy of the same.
+
+I would make a long discourse unto you of _Platos_
+4. furies but I le[a]ve them. It pitieth me to bring
+a rodd of your owne making to beate you wythal.
+But mithinks while you heare thys I see you swallowe
+down your owne spittle for revenge, where (God wot)
+my wryting savoreth not of envye. In this case I
+coulde wyshe you fare farre otherwyse from your foe.
+If you please I wyll become your frende and see
+what a potion or receypt I can frame fytt for your
+diet. And herein I will prove myselfe a practiser,
+before I purdge you, you shall take a preparative to
+disburden your heavy hedde of those grose follis you
+have conceved: but the receipt is bitter, therefore I
+would wysh you first to casten your mouth with the
+Suger of persevera[n]ce: for ther is a cold collop yt
+must downe your throate yet suche a one as shall
+change your complection quit[e]. I wyll have you
+therfore to tast first of yt cold river _Phricus_ in
+Thratia, which as _Aristotle_ reporteth changeth blacke
+into white; or of Scamandar, which maketh gray
+yalow, yt is of an envious ma[n] a wel minded
+person, reprehending of zeale yt wherin he hath
+sinned by folly, and so being prepard, thy purgation
+wyll worke more easy, thy understandinge wyll be
+more perfit, thou shalt blush at thy abuse, and
+reclaime thy selfe by force of argument. So will
+thou prove of clene recovered patient, and I a perfecte
+practiser in framing so good a potion. This
+broughte to passe, I with the[e] wil seeke out some
+abuse in poetry, which I will seeke for to disprove
+by reason first pronounced by no smal birde even
+_Aristotle_ himself. _Poetae_ (sayth he) _multa mentiuntur_
+and to further his opinion seuer _Cato_ putteth in his
+cencure.
+
+_Admiranda canunt sed non credenda poetæ._ These
+were sore blemishes if objected rightly and heare you
+may say the streme runnes a wronge, but if it be so
+by you[r] leve I wyll bring him shortly in his right
+chanel. My answere shall not be my owne, but a
+learned father shall tell my tale, if you wil know his
+right name men call him _Lactantius_: who in hys
+book _de divinis institutionibus_ reesoneth thus. I
+suppose (sayth he) Poets are full of credit, and yet
+it is requesite for those that wil understand them to
+be admonished, that among them not onely the name
+but the matter beareth a show of that it is not: for
+if sayth he we examine the Scriptures litterallye
+nothing will seeme more falls, and if we way Poetes
+wordes and not ther meaning, our learning in them
+wilbe very mene. You see nowe your _Catoes_ judgement
+as of no force and that all your objections you
+make agaynst poetrye be of no valor, yet lest you
+should be altogether discouraged I wyll helpe you
+forwarde a little more, it pities me to consider the
+weaknes of your cause, I wyll therfore make your
+strongest reason more strong and after I have builded
+it up destroy it agayn. Poets you confesse are
+eloquent but you reprove them in their wantonnesse,
+they write of no wisedom, you may say their tales are
+frivolus, they prophane holy thinges, they seeke
+nothing to the perfection of our soules. Theyr practise
+is in other things of lesse force: to this objection
+I answer no otherwise then _Horace_ doeth in his booke
+_de arte poetica_ where he wryteth thus:
+
+  _Silvestres homines sacer interpresque deorum
+  Sedibus, et victu foedo deterruit orpheus.
+  Dictus ob hoc lenire Tigres rabidosque leones.
+  Dictus et Amphion Thebanæ condit[or] urbis
+  Saxa movere sono, testudinis et prece blanda
+  Ducere quo vellet. Fuit hoc sapientia quondam,
+  Publica privatis secernere sacra prophanis,
+  Concubitu prohibere vago, dare Iura maritis,
+  Oppida moliri, leges incidere ligno._
+
+  The holy spokesman of the Gods
+  With heave[n]ly Orpheus hight:
+  Did drive the savage men from wods,
+  And made them live aright.
+  And therefore is sayd the Tygers fierce,
+  And Lyons full of myght
+  To overcome: _Amphion_, he
+  Was sayd of Theabs the founder,
+  Who by his force of Lute dyd cause
+  The stones to part a sonder,
+  And by his speach did them derect
+  Where he would have them staye:
+  This wisedome this was it of olde
+  All strife for to allaye.
+  To give to every man his owne,
+  To make the Gods be knowne,
+  To drive each lecher from the bed
+  That never was his owne.
+  To teach the law of mariage,
+  The way to build a towne,
+  For to engrave these lawes in woods
+  This was these mens renowne.
+
+I cannot leave _Tirtheus_ pollicy untouched, who
+by force of his pen could incite men to the defence
+of theyr countrye. If you require of ye Oracle of
+_Apollo_ what successe you shal have: _respondet bellicoso
+numine_. Lo now you see your objections my answers,
+you behold or may perceive manifestlye that Poetes
+was the first raysors of cities, prescribers of good
+lawes, mayntayners of religion, disturbors of the wicked,
+advancers of the wel disposed, inve[n]tors of laws,
+and lastly the very fo[o]tpaths to knowledg and
+understa[n]ding. Ye if we sho[u]ld beleve Herome
+he will make _Platos_ exiles honest me[n] and his
+pestiferous poets good preachers: for he accounteth
+_Orpheus Museus and Linus, Christians_, therefore
+_Virgil_ (in his 6 boke of _Æneiados_ wher he lernedly
+describeth ye journey of _Æneas_ to _Elisum_) asserteneth
+us, yt among them yt were ther for the zeale they
+beare toward there country, ther wer found _Quinque
+pii vates et Phoebo digna loquti_ but I must answer al
+objectio[n]s, I must fil every nooke. I must arme
+myself now, for here is the greatest bob I can gather
+out of your booke forsoth _Ovids_ abuses, in descrybing
+whereof you labour very vehementlye termi[n]g him
+letcher, and in his person dispraise all poems, but
+shall on[e] mans follye destroye a universal comodity?
+What gift what perfit knowledg hath ther bin,
+emong ye professors of w^c ther hath not bin a bad
+on [?] the Angels have sinned in heave[n], _Ada[m] and
+Eve_ in earthly paradise, emo[n]g ye holy apostles
+ungratious Judas. I reson not yt al poets are holy
+but I affirme yt poetry is a heave[n]ly gift, a perfit
+gift then which I know not greater plesure. And
+surely if I may speak my mind I thi[n]k we shall find
+but few poets if it were exactly wayd what they oughte
+to be: your _Muscovian_ straungers, your _Scithian_
+monsters wonderful, by one _Eurus_ brought upon one
+stage in ships made of Sheepeskins, wyll not prove you
+a poet nether your life alow you to bee of that
+learning: if you had wisely wayed ye abuse of poetry,
+if you had reprehended ye foolish fantasies of our
+poets _nomine non re_ which they bring forth on stage,
+my self would have liked of you and allowed your
+labor. But I perceive nowe yt all red colloured
+stones are not Rubies, nether is every one _Alexandar_
+yt hath a stare in his cheeke, al lame men are not
+_Vulcans_, nor hooke nosed men _Ciceroes_, nether each
+professer a poet, I abhore those poets that savor of
+ribaldry, I will with the zealous admit the expullcion
+of suche enormities. Poetry is dispraised not for the
+folly that is in it, but for the abuse whiche manye ill
+Wryters couller by it. Beleeve me the magestrats
+may take advise (as I knowe wisely can) to roote out
+those odd rymes which runnes in every rascales
+mouth. Savoring of rybaldry, those foolishe ballets
+that are admitted make poets good and godly practises
+to be refused. I like not of a wicked _Nero_ that wyll
+expell _Lucan_, yet admit I of a zealous governour that
+wil seke to take away the abuse of poetry. I like not
+of an angrye _Augustus_ which wyll banishe _Ovid_ for
+envy. I love a wise Senator, which in wisedome wyll
+correct him and with advise burne his follyes: unhappy
+were we yf like poore _Scaurus_ we shoulde find
+_Tiberius_ that wyll put us to death for a tragedy
+making, but most blessed were we if we might find a
+judge that severely would amende the abuses of
+Tragedies. But I leave the reformation thereof to
+more wyser than my selfe, and retourne to Gosson
+whom I wyshe to be fully perswaded in this cause, and
+therefore I will tell hym a prety story, which _Justin_
+wryteth in the prayse of poetrye.
+
+The _Lacedemonians_ when they had loste many
+men in divers incountryes with theyr enemyes soughte
+to the Oracles of Apollo requiring how they myght
+recover theyr losses, it was answered that they mighte
+overcome if so be they could get an _Athenian_ governor,
+whereupon they sent Orators unto the _Athenians_
+humbly requesting them that they woulde appoynt
+them out one of theyr best captaynes: the _Athenians_
+owinge them old malice, sent them in steede of a
+_soldado vechio_ a scholar of the Muses: in steede of
+a worthy warrior a poore poet; for a couragious
+_Themistocles_ a silly _Tirthetus_, a man of great eloquence
+and singuler wytte, yet was he but a lame lymde
+captaine more fit for the co[u]che than the field.
+The _Lacedemonians_ trusting the Oracle, received the
+champion, and fearing the government of a stranger,
+made him ther Citizen. Which once done and he
+obteining the Dukdome, he assended the theater,
+and ther very learnedly, wyshing them to forget theyr
+folly, and to thinke on victory, they being acuate by
+his eloque[n]ce waging battail won the fielde. Lo
+now you see that the framing of common welthes,
+and defence thereof proceedeth from poets, how dare
+you therfore open your mouth against them? How
+can you disprayse the preserver of a countrye? You
+compare _Homer_ to _Methecus_, cookes to Poetes, you
+shame your selfe in your unreverent similitud[e]s,
+you may see your follyes _verbum sapienti sat_: whereas
+_Homar_ was an ancient poet you disalow him, and
+accompte of those of lesser judgement. _Strabo_ calleth
+poetry _primam sapientiam_. Cicero in his firste of
+his Tusculans attributeth ye invencion of philosophy
+to poets. God keepe us from a Plato that should
+expel such men. Pittie were it that the memory of
+these valiant victours should be hidden, which have
+dyed in the behalfe of ther countryes: miserable were
+our state yf we wanted those worthy volumes of
+poetry. Could the learned beare the losse of Homer?
+or our younglings the wrytings of the _Mantuan_? or
+you your volumes of historyes? beleve me yf you
+had wanted your Mysteries of nature, and your stately
+storyes, your booke would have scarce bene ledde
+wyth matter. If therefore you will deale in things of
+wisdome, correct the abuse, honor the science, renewe
+your schoole, crye out over Hierusalem wyth the
+prophet the woe that he pronounced, wish the teacher
+to reforme hys lyfe, that his weake scholler may prove
+the wyser, cry out against unsaciable desyre in rich
+men, tel the house of Jacob theyr iniquities, lament
+with the Apostle the want of laborers in the Lords
+vineyards, cry out on those dume doggs that will not
+barke, wyll the mightye that they overmayster not the
+poore, and put downe the beggers prowde heart by
+thy perswasions. Thunder oute with the Prophete
+_Micha_ the mesage of the LORD, and with hym desyre
+the Judges to heare thee, the Prynces of Jacob to
+hearken to thee, and those of the house of Israell to
+understande. Then tell them that they abhorre
+judgement, and prevent equitie, that they judge for
+rewardes, and that theyr priests teach for hyre, and
+the prophets thereof prophesie for money, and yet
+that they saye the Lorde is wyth them, and that no
+evil can befall them, breath[e] out the sweete promises
+to the good, the cursses to the badde, tell them that
+a peeace muste needes have a warre, and that God
+can raise up another Zenacherib, shew the[m] that
+Salomons kingdome was but for a season and that
+adversitie cometh ere we espye it. These be the
+songes of Sion, these be those rebukes which you
+oughte to add to abuses; recover the body for it is
+sore, the appedices thereof will easily be reformed, if
+that wear at a staye.
+
+But other matters call me and I must not staye
+upon this onely, there is an easier task in hand for
+me, and that which, if I may speak my conscience,
+fitteth my vain best, your second abuse Gosson, your
+second abuse; your disprayses of Musik, which you
+unadvisedly terme pyping: that is it will most byte you,
+what so is a overstay of life, is displesant to your
+person, musik may not stand in your presence, whereas
+all the learned Philosophers have alwayes had it in
+reverence. _Homar_ commendeth it highly, referring
+to the prayses of the Gods whiche Gosson accompteth
+folishnesse; looke uppon the harmonie of the
+Heavens; hang they not by Musik? Doe not the
+_Spheares_ move? The _primus_ motor governe[s], be not
+they _inferiora corpora_ affected _quadam sumpathia_ and
+agreement? Howe can we measure the debilitie of
+the patient but by the disordered motion of the pulse?
+Is not man worse accompted of when he is most out
+of tune? Is there any thinge that more affecteth
+the sense? Doth there any pleasure more acuat
+our understanding? Can the wonders yt hath
+wroughte and which you your selfe confesse no more
+move you? It fitteth well nowe that the learned
+have sayd, _musica requirit generosum animu[m]_ which
+since it is far from you, no marvel though you favor
+not that profession. It is reported of the _Camelion_
+that shee can chaunge her selfe unto all coollors save
+whyte, and you can accompte of all thinges save such
+as have honesty. _Plutarch_ your good Mayster may
+bare me witness that the ende whereto Musick was,
+will proove it prayes worthy. O Lord howe maketh
+it a man to remember heavenly things to wo[n]der at
+the works of the creator. _Eloquence_ can stay the
+souldiars sworde from slayinge an Orator, and shall
+not musike be magnified which not onely saveth the
+bodye but is a comfort to the soule? David rejoyseth
+singeth and prayeth the Lorde by the Harpe, and the
+Simbale is not removed from his sanctuary, the
+Aungels syng _gloria in excelsis_. Surely the imagination
+in this present instant calleth me to a deepe
+consideration of my God. Looke for wonders where
+musike worketh, and wher harmonie is ther followeth
+increcible delectation. The bowels of the earth
+y[i]eld where the instrument soundeth and _Pluto_
+cannot keepe _Proserpina_ if _Orpheus_ recorde. The
+Seas shall not swallowe _Arion_ whilst he singeth,
+nether shall hee perish while he harpeth, a doleful
+tuner yf a diing musition can move a Monster of ye
+sea to mourne. A Dolphin respectet a heavenly recorde.
+
+Call your selfe home therefore and reclayme thys
+follye, it is to[o] foule to bee admitted, you may not
+mayntaine it. I hadd well hoped you woulde in all
+these thynges have wiselye admytted the thyng, and
+disalowe naughte but the abus, but I see your mynde
+in youre wrytinge was to penn somewhat you knowe
+not what, and to confyrme it I wot not howe, so that
+yourselfe hath hatched us an Egge yet so that it hath
+blest us wyth a monsterus chickin, both wythoute
+hedde, and also tayle, lyke the Father, full of imperfection
+and lesse zeale. Well marke yet a lyttle
+more, beare with me though I be bytter, my love is
+never the lesse for that I have learned of _Tullye_, that
+_Nulla remedia tam faciunt dolorem quam quæ sunt
+salutaria_, the sharper medycine the better it cures, the
+more you see your follye, the sooner may you amend
+it. Are not the straines in Musike to tickle and
+delyght the eare? are not our warlike instruments to
+move men to valor? you confesse they moove us,
+but yet they delight not our eares? I pray you whence
+grew that poynt of Phylosophy? It is more then
+ever my Mayster taught mee, that a thynge of sounde
+shoulde not delyghte the eare. Belyke yee suppose
+that men are monsters, withoute eares, or else I thynke
+you wyll saye they heare with theire heeles, it may bee
+so; for indeede when wee are delighted with Musike,
+it maketh our heart to scypp for joye, and it maye
+bee perhaps by assending from the heele to the hygher
+partes, it may move us, good policie in sooth, this
+was of your owne coyning, your mother never taught
+it you, but I wyll not deale by reason of philosophye
+wyth you for that confound your senses, but I can
+asure you this one thinge, that this principle will
+make the wiser to mislike your invention, it had bene
+a fitter jest for your howlet in your playe, then an
+orname[n]t in your booke. But since you wrote of
+abuses, we may licence you to lye a little, so ye abuse
+will be more manifest. Lord with how goodly a cote
+have you clothed your conceiptes, you abound in
+storyes but impertinent, they bewray your reeding
+but not your wisedom, would God they had bin well
+aplyed. But now I must play the musitian right
+nolesse buggs now come in place but pavions and
+mesures, dumps and fancies, and here growes a great
+question what musick _Homer_ used in curing ye
+diseased gretians, it was no dump you say, and so
+think I, for yt is not apliable to sick men, for it
+favoreth Malancholie. I am sure it was no mesure,
+for in those days they were not such good da[n]sers,
+for so[o]th the[n] what was it? If you require me, if
+you name me the instrume[n]t, I wyl tel you what was
+ye musik. Meanwhile a gods name let us both dout
+yt is no part of our salvation to know what it was nor
+how it went. When I speak with _Homer_ next you
+shall knowe his answere.
+
+But you can not be content to erre but you must
+maintain it to[o]. _Pithagoras_ you say alowes not
+that musik is decerned by eares, but hee wisheth us
+to assend unto the sky and marke that harmony.
+Surely this is but one doctors opinion (yet I dislike not
+of it) but to speake my conscience my thinkes musike
+best pleaseth me when I heare it, for otherwise the
+catter walling of Cats, were it not for harmonie, should
+more delight mine eies then the tunable voyces of
+men. But these things are not the chiefest poynts
+you shote at, thers somewhat els sticketh in your
+stomak God graunt it hurt you not, from the daunce
+you runn to the pype from 7. to 3. which if I shoulde
+add I beleeve I could wrest out halfe a score
+inco[n]veniences more out of your booke. Our
+pleasant consortes do discomfort you much, and
+because you lyke not thereof they arr discomendable,
+I have heard it is good to take sure fotinge when we
+travel unknowen countryes, for when we wade above
+our shoe latchet _Appelles_ wyll reprehende us for
+coblers, if you had bene a father in musick and coulde
+have decerned of tunes I would perhaps have likt
+your opinion sumwhat where now I abhor it, if you
+wear a professor of that practise I would quickly
+perswade you, that the adding of strings to our
+instrument make the sound more hermonious, and
+that the mixture of Musike maketh a better concent.
+But to preach to unskillfull is to perswad ye brut
+beastes, I wyl not stand long in thys point although
+the dignitye thereof require a volume, but howe
+learned men have esteemed this heavenly gift, if you
+please to read you shall see. _Socrates_ in hys old age
+will not disdain to learn ye science of Music amo[n]g
+children, he can abide their correctio[n]s to[o], so
+much accou[n]ted he that wt you contemn, so
+profitable thought he yt, wt you mislik. _Solon_ wil
+esteme so much of ye knowledg of singing, yt he wil
+soner forget to dye the[n] to sing. _Pithagoras_ liks it
+so wel yt he wil place it in _Greace_, and _Aristoxenus_
+will saye yt the soule is musik. _Plato_ (in his booke
+_de legibus_) will affirme that it can not be handled
+without all sciences, the _Lacedemonians and Cretensis_
+wer sturred to warre by Anapæstus foote, and
+_Timotheus_ with the same incensed kinge _Alexander_
+to batel, ye yf _Boetyus_ fitten not, on _Tauromitanus_
+(by this _Phrigian_ sound) hastened to burn a house
+wher a stru[m]pet was hidden.
+
+So little abideth this heave[n]ly harmony our
+humane filthines yt it worketh wonders as you may
+perceve most manifestly by the history of _Agamemnon_
+who going to ye Trojan war, left at home a musitian
+yt playde the _Dorian_ tune, who wt the foote
+_Spondeus_ preserved his wife _Clitemnestra_ in chastity
+and honesty, wherfore she co[u]ld not be deflowred by
+_Ægistus_, before he had wickedly slain the musitian.
+So yt as the magnetes draweth Iorne, and the
+Theamides (w^c groweth in _Ægipt_) driveth it away:
+so musik calleth to it selfe al honest plesures, and dispelleth
+fro[m] it all vaine misdemanors. Yt matter is
+so ple[n]tiful that I cannot find wher to end, as for
+beginnings they be infinite, but these shall suffice.
+I like not to[o] long circu[m]stances wher les doe serve:
+only I wish you to accompt wel of this heave[n]ly
+concent, w^c is ful of perfettio[n], preceding fro[m]
+above, drawing his original fro[m] the motion of ye
+stars, fro[m] the agrement of the planets, fro[m] the
+whisteling winds, and fro[m] al those celestial circles
+where is e[i]ther perfit agreeme[n]t or any _Sumphonia_.
+But as I like musik so admit I not of thos that
+deprave the same: your pipers are as odius to mee
+as yourselfe; nether alowe I your harpinge merye
+beggers: although I knewe you my selfe a professed
+play maker, and a paltry actor. Since which ye
+windmil of your wit hath bin tornd so long wyth the
+wynde of folly, that I fear me we shall see the dogg
+returne to his vomit, and the clensed sow to her myre,
+and the reformed scholemayster to hys old teaching
+of follye. Beware it be not so, let not your booke be
+a blemish to your own profession. Correct not musik
+therfore whe[n] it is praiesworthy, least your worthlesse
+misliking bewray your madnes. Way the abuse
+and that is matter sufficient to serve a magistrates
+animadversion. Heere may you advise well, and if
+you have any stale rethorik florish upon thys text, the
+abuse is, when that is applyed to wantonnesse, which
+was created to shewe Gods worthinesse. When ye
+shamefull resorts of shameles curtezanes in sinful
+sonnets shall prophane vertue, these are no light
+sinnes, these make many good men lament, this causeth
+parents hate there right borne children, if this were
+reformed by your policie I should esteme of you as
+you wysh. I feare me it fareth far otherwyse, _latet
+anguis in herba_, under your fare show of conscience
+take heede you cloake not your abuse, it were pittie
+the learned should be overseene in your simplenesse,
+I feare me you will be politick wyth _Machavel_ not
+zealous as a prophet. Well I will not stay long upon
+the abuse, for that I see it is to[o] manifest, the
+remembraunce thereof is discommendable among the
+godly, and I my self am very loth to bring it in
+memory. To the wise advised reader these mai
+suffice, to flee the _Crocodel_ before he commeth, lest
+we be bitten, and to avoyde the abuse of musik, since
+we se[e] it, lest our misery be more when we fall into
+folly. _Ictus piscator sapit_, you heare open confession,
+these abuses are disclaimed by our Gosson, he is sory
+that hee hath so leudlye lived, and spent the oyle of
+his perfection in unsavery Lampes. He hath _Argus_
+eyes to watch him now, I wold wish him beware of
+his Islington, and such lyke resorts, if now he retourne
+from his repented lyfe to his old folly, Lord how
+foule will be his fall. Men know more then they
+speak if they be wise, I feare me some will blush that
+readeth this, if he be bitten, wold God Gosson at
+that instant might have a watchman. But I see it
+were needelesse, perhaps he hath _Os durum_, and then
+what avayleth their presence.
+
+Well, I leave this poynt til I know further of your
+mynde, mean while I must talke a little wyth you
+about ye thyrd abuse, for the cater cosens of pypers,
+theyr names (as you terme them) be players, and
+I think as you doe, for your experience is sufficient
+to enforme me. But here I must loke about me,
+_quacunque tetigeris ulcus est_, here is a task that
+requireth a long treatis, and what my opinion is of
+players ye now shall plainly perceve. I must now
+serch my wits, I see this shall passe throughe many
+severe sensors handling, I must advise me what I
+write, and write that I would wysh. I way wel the
+seriousnes of the cause, and regarde very much the
+Judges of my endevor, whom if I could I would
+perswade that I woulde not nourish abuse, nether
+mayntaine that which should be an universall discomoditye.
+I hope they wil not judge before they
+read, nether condemne without occasion. The wisest
+wil alwais carry to eares, in yt they are to diserne
+two indifferent causes. I meane not to hold you in
+suspe[n]c[e] (severe Judges) if you gredely expect my
+verdit brefely this it is.
+
+_Demostines_ thoughte not that _Phillip_ shoulde overcome
+when he reproved hym, nether feared _Cicero
+Anthonies_ force when in the Senatt hee rebuked hym.
+To the ignorant e[a]ch thinge that is unknowne semes
+unprofitable, but a wise man can foresee and prayse
+by proofe. _Pythagoras_ could spy oute in womens
+eyes two kind of teares, the one of grefe the other
+of disceit: and those of judgement can from the
+same flower suck honey with the bee, from whence
+the Spyder (I mean the ignorant) take their poison.
+Men yt have knowledge what comedies and tragedis
+be, wil comend the[m], but it is sufferable in the
+folish to reprove that they know not, becaus ther
+mouthes wil hardly be stopped. Firste therfore, if
+it be not tedious to Gosson to harken to the lerned,
+the reder shall perceive the antiquity of playmaking,
+the inventors of comedies, and therewithall the use
+and comoditaye of the[m]. So that in ye end I hope
+my labor shall be liked, and the learned wil soner
+conceve his folly.
+
+For tragedies and comedies _Donate_ the gramarian
+sayth, they wer invented by lerned fathers of the old
+time to no other purpose, but to yeelde prayse unto
+God for a happy harvest, or plentifull yeere, and that
+thys is trewe the name of Tragedye doeth importe,
+for if you consider whence it came, you shall perceive
+(as _Iodocus Badius_ reporteth) that it drewe his original
+of _Tragos, Hircus_, and _Ode, Cantus_ (so called), for
+that the actors thereof had in rewarde for theyr
+labour, a Gotes skynne fylled wyth wyne. You see
+then that the fyrste matter of tragedies was to give
+thankes and prayses to GOD, and a gratefull prayer of
+the countrymen for a happye harvest, and this I hope
+was not discommendable. I knowe you will judge
+[th]is farthest from abuse. But to wade farther, thys
+fourme of invention being found out, as the dayes
+wherein it was used did decay, and the world grew
+to more perfection, so yt witt of the younger sorte
+became more riper, for they leaving this fourme,
+invented an other, in the which they altered the nature
+but not ye name: for sounets in prayse of ye gods,
+they did set forth the sower fortune of many exiles,
+the miserable fal of haples princes, the reuinous decay
+of many cou[n]tryes, yet not content with this, they
+presented the lives of _Satyers_, so that they might
+wiselye, under the abuse of that name, discover the
+follies of many theyr folish fellow-citesens: and
+those monsters were then, as our parasites are now
+adayes: suche as with pleasure reprehended abuse.
+As for commedies because they bear a more plesanter
+vain, I wil leave the other to speake of them. _Tully_
+defines them thus. _Comedia_ (sayth he) is _Imitatio
+vitæ, speculum consuetudinis, et imago veritatis_, and it
+is sayde to be termed of _Comai_ (emongste the Greekes)
+whiche signifieth _Pagos_, and _Ode, Cantus_: for that
+they were exercised in the fielde. They had they
+beginning wyth tragedies, but their matter was more
+plessaunt, for they were suche as did reprehend, yet
+_quodam lepore_. These first very rudely were invented
+by _Susarion Bullus_, and _Magnes_ t[w]o auncient poets,
+yet so that they were mervelous profitable to the
+reclamynge of abuse: whereupon _Eupolis_ with _Cratinus_,
+and _Aristophanes_ began to write, and with ther
+eloquenter vaine and perfection of stil[e], dyd more
+severely speak agaynst the abuses the[n] they: which
+_Horace_ himselfe witnesseth. For sayth he ther was no
+abuse but these men reprehended it. A thefe was
+loth to be seene on there spectacle. A coward was
+never present at theyr assemblies. A backbiter
+abhord that company, and I my self could not have
+blamed your (Gosson) for exempting yourselfe from
+this theater, of troth I should have lykt your pollicy.
+These therefore, these wer they that kept men in awe,
+these restrayned the unbridled cominaltie, whereupon
+_Horace_ wisely sayeth,
+
+  _Oderunt peccare boni, virtutis amore,
+  Oderunt peccare mali, formidine penæ._
+
+  The good did hate al sinne for vertues love,
+  The bad for feare of shame did sin remove.
+
+Yea would God our realme could light uppon a
+_Lucillius_, then should the wicked bee poynted out
+from the good, a harlot woulde seeke no harbor at
+stage plais, lest she shold here her owne name growe
+in question: and the discourse of her honesty cause
+her to bee hated of the godly. As for you I am sure
+of this one thing, he would paint you in your players
+orname[n]ts, for they best becam you. But as these
+sharpe corrections were disanulde in Rome when
+they grewe to more licenciousnes: so I fear me if we
+shold practise it in our dayes, the same intertainmente
+would followe. But in illreformed Rome what
+comedies now? A poets wit can correct, yet not
+offend. _Philemon_ will mitigate the corrections of
+sinne, by reproving them covertly in shadowes. _Menandar_
+dare not offend ye Senate openly, yet wants he
+not a parasite to touch them prively. _Terence_ wyl
+not report the abuse of harlots under there proper
+stile, but he can finely girde the[m] under the person
+of _Thais_. Hee dare not openly tell the Rich of theyr
+covetousnesse and severity towards their children, but
+he can controle them under the person of _Durus
+Demeas_. He must not shew the abuse of noble yong
+gentilmen under theyr owne title, but he wyll warne
+them in the person of _Pamphilus_. Wil you learne to
+know a parasite? Looke upon his _Dauus_. Wyl
+you seke the abuse of courtly flatterers? Behold
+_Gnato_: and if we had some Satericall Poetes nowe a
+dayes to penn our commedies, that might be admitted
+of zeale to discypher the abuses of the worlde in the
+person of notorious offenders. I know we should
+wisely ryd our assemblyes of many of your brotherhod,
+but because you may have a full scope to
+reprehende, I will ryp up a rableme[n]t of playmakers,
+whose wrightinges I would wishe you overlooke, and
+seeke out theyr abuses. Can you mislike of _Cecillius_?
+or dispise _Plinius_? or amend _Neuius_? or find fault
+with _Licinius_? Wherein offended _Actilius_? I am
+sure you can not but wonder at _Terrence_? Wil it
+please you to like of _Turpelius_? or alow of _Trabea_?
+You muste needs make much of _Ennius_ for overloke
+al thes, and you shal find ther volums ful of wit if
+you examine the[m]: so yt if you had no other
+masters, you might deserve to be a doctor, wher now
+you are but a folishe scholemaister. But I wyll deale
+wyth you verye freendlye, I wil resolve everi doubt
+that you find. Those instrumentes which you mislike
+in playes grow of auncient custome, for when _Rossius_
+was an Actor, be sure that as with his tears he moved
+affections, so the Musitian in the Theater before the
+entrance, did mornefully record it in melody (as
+Servius reporteth). The actors in Rome had also
+gay clothing and every ma[n]s aparel was apliable to
+his part and person. The old men in white, ye rich
+men in purple, the parasite disguisedly, the yong men
+in gorgeous coulours, ther wanted no devise nor good
+judgeme[n]t of ye comedy, whe[n]c[e] I suppose our
+players both drew ther plaies and fourme of garments.
+As for the appointed dayes wherin comedies wer
+showen, I reede that the Romaynes appoynted them
+on the festival dayes, in such reputation were they
+had at that time. Also _Iodocus Badius_ will assertain
+you that the actors for shewing pleasure receved
+some profite. But let me apply those dayes to ours,
+their actors to our players, their autors to ours.
+
+Surely we want not a _Rossius_, nether ar ther great
+scarsity of _Terrences_ professio[n], but yet our men dare
+not nowe a dayes presume so much as the old Poets
+might, and therfore they apply ther writing to the
+peoples vain, wheras if in the beginning they had
+ruled, we should now adaies have found smal spectacles
+of folly. But (of truth) I must confes with
+_Aristotle_, that men are greatly delighted with imitation,
+and that it were good to bring those things on stage,
+that were altogether tending to vertue: all this I
+admit, and hartely wysh, but you say unlesse the
+thinge be taken away the vice will continue, nay I
+say if the style were changed the practise would profit.
+And sure I thinke our theaters fit, that _Ennius_ seeing
+our wa[n]ton _Glicerium_ may rebuke her, if our poetes
+will nowe become severe, and for prophane things write
+of vertue: you I hope shoulde see a reformed state
+in those thinges, which I feare me yf they were not,
+the idle hedded commones would worke more mischiefe.
+I wish as zealously as the best that all abuse
+of playinge were abolished, but for the thing, the
+antiquitie causeth me to allow it, so it be used as it
+should be. I cannot allow the prophaning of the
+Sabaoth, I praise your reprehension in that, you did
+well in discommending the abuse, and surely I wysh
+that that folly wer disclaymed, it is not to be admitted,
+it maks those sinne, which perhaps if it were not,
+would have binne present at a good sermon. It is in
+the Magistrate to take away that order, and appoynt
+it otherwyse. But sure it were pittie to abolish yt
+which hath so great vertue in it, because it is abused.
+The Germanes when the use of preaching was forbidden
+them, what helpe had they I pray you? Forsoth
+the learned were fayne covertly in comodies to
+declare abuses, and by playing to incite the people to
+vertues, whe[n] they might heare no preaching. Those
+were lamentable dayes you will say, and so thinke I,
+but was not this I pray you a good help in reforming
+the decaying Gospel? You see then how comedies
+(my severe judges) are requesit both for ther antiquity,
+and for ther commoditye: for the dignity of
+the wrighters, and the pleasure of the hearers. But
+after your discrediting of playmaking, you salve uppon
+the sore somewhat, and among many wise workes
+there be some that fitte your vaine: the practise of
+parasites is one, which I mervel it likes you so well
+since it bites you so sore. But sure in that I like
+your judgement, and for the rest to[o], I approve
+your wit, but for the pigg of your own sow (as you
+terme it) assuredly I must discommend your verdit.
+Tell me Gosson was all your owne you wrote there:
+did you borow nothing of your neyghbours? but of
+what booke patched you out _Ciceros_ oration? Whence
+fet you _Catulins_ invective? Thys is one thing, _alienam
+olet lucernâ non tuam_. So that your helper may wisely
+reply upon you with _Virgil_,
+
+_Hos ego versiculos feci tulit alter honores_,
+
+I made these verses other bear the name. Beleve me
+I should preferr Wilsons, shorte and sweete if I were
+judge, a peece surely worthy prayse, the practise of a
+good scholler, would the wiser would overlooke that,
+they may perhaps cull some wisedome out of a players
+toye. Well, as it is wisedome to commend where
+the cause requireth, so it is a poynt of folly to praise
+without deserte. You dislike players very much,
+theyr dealings be not for your commodity, whom if I
+myghte advise they should learne thys of _Juvenal_:
+
+    _Vivendum est recte
+  Cum propter plurima, tum his
+    Præcipue causis: ut linguas mancipiorum
+  Cont[=e]nas. N[=a] lingua mali pars pessima servi._
+
+  We ought to leade our lives aright,
+  For many causes move.
+  Especially for this same cause,
+  Wisedome doth us behove.
+
+  That we may set at nough[t] those blames,
+  Which servants to us lay,
+  For why, the tongue of evel slave,
+  Is worst as wise men ever say.
+
+Methinks I heare some of them verifiing these
+verses upon you, if it so be that I hear them, I wil
+concele it, as for the statute of apparrell and the
+abuses thereof, I see it manifestly broken, and if I
+should seeke for example, you cannot but offend my
+eyes. For if you examine the statuts exactly, a
+simple cote should be fitted to your backe. We
+should bereve you of your braverye, and examine
+your au[n]cestry, and by profession in respect of ye
+statute, we should find you catercosens with a (but
+hush), you know my meaning, I must for pitie favor
+your credit in that you weare once a scholler. You
+runne farther to Carders, dicers, fencers, bowlers,
+dauncers, and tomblers, whose abuses I wold
+rebuke with you, had not your self moved other
+matters. But to eche I say thus, for dicing I wyshe
+those that know it not to leave to learn it, and let
+the fall of others make them wiser. Yf they had an
+_Alexander_ to govern they shold be punished, and I
+could wish them not to abuse the lenitie of their
+prince. _Cicero_ for a great blemish reputeth that
+which our gentilmen use for bravery, but _sufficit ista
+leniter attigisse_, a word against fencers, and so an
+end. Whom I wish to beware with _Demonax_ lest
+admitting theyr fencing delightes, they destroy (with
+the _Athenians_) the alters of peace; by raysing quarrellous
+causes, they worke uprores: but you and I
+reprove the[m] in abuse, yet I (for my part) cannot
+but allow the practise so it be well used. As for the
+filling of our gracious princes cofers with peace, as
+it pertaineth not to me, because I am none of her
+receivors, so men think unlesse it hath bine lately
+you have not bene of her majesties counsel. But
+now here as you begin folishly, so surely you end
+unlernedly. Prefer you warre before peace? the
+sword before the Goune? the rule of a Tyrant before
+ye happy days of our gracious Queen? You know
+the philosophers are against you, yet dare you stand
+in handy grips wyth _Cicero_: you know that force is
+but an instrume[n]t when counsell fayleth, and if
+wisedome win not, farwel warre. Aske _Alphonsus_
+what counsellors he lyketh of? hee will say his
+bookes: and hath not I pray you pollicy alwais over-mastered
+force? Who subdued _Hannibal_ in his
+great royalty? he yt durst knock at Rome gates to
+have the[m] opened is nowe become a pray to a sylly
+senator. _Appius Claudius et senex et coecus_, a father full
+of wisedome can releve the state of decaying Rome.
+And was it force that subdued _Marius_? or armes
+that discovered _Catulins_ conspiracies? Was it rash
+reuendg in punishing _Cethegus_? or want of witt in
+the discoverye of treason? _Cato_ can correct himselfe
+for traveling by Sea, when the land profereth
+passage, or to be fole hardy in over mutch hazard.
+_Aristotle_ accompteth counsell holye, and _Socrates_ can
+terme it the key of certentye. What shall we count
+of war but wrath, of battel but hastines, and if I did
+rule (with _Augustus Cæsar_) I woulde refuse these
+counselers. What made ye oracle I praye you
+accompt of _Calchas_ so much? was it not for his
+wisedome? who doth not like of the governer that
+had rather meete with _Unum Nestorem_ than _decem
+Aiaces_? You cannot tame a Lyon but in tyme,
+neither a Tigres in few dayes. Counsell in _Regulus_
+will preferring the liberty of his country before his
+lyfe, not remit the delivery of _Carthaginian_ captives.
+_Hannibal_ shall flesh himselfe on an olde mans carkas,
+whose wisedom preserved his citye. _Adrian_ with
+letters can governe hys legions, and rule peasablye
+his provinces by policye. Aske _Silvius Italicus_ what
+peace is and he will say:
+
+  _Pax optima rerum quas homini novisse
+              datum est, pax una triumphis
+  Innumeris potior, pax custodire salutem.
+              Et cives æquare potens._
+
+  No better thing to man did nature
+  Ever give then peace,
+  Then which to know no greater joy
+  Can come to our encrease.
+  To foster peace is stay of health,
+  And keepes the land in ease.
+
+Take cou[n]sell of Ovid what sayth he?
+
+_Candida pax homines, trux decet atra feras._
+
+  To men doth heavenly peace pertaine
+  And currish anger fitteth brutish vaine.
+
+Well as I wish it to have continuance, so I praye
+God wyth the Prophet it be not abused. And
+because I think my selfe to have sufficiently answered
+that I supposed, I conclude with this. God preserve
+our peacable princes[s], and confound her enemies.
+God enlarge her wisdome, that like _Saba_ she may
+seeke after a _Salomon_: God confounde the imaginations
+of her enemies, and perfit His graces in her,
+that the daies of her rule may be continued in the
+bonds of peace, that the house of the chosen
+Isralites may be maynteyned in happinesse: lastly I
+frendly bid Gosson farwell, wyshinge him to temper
+his penn with more discretion.
+
+
+
+
+II.--JOHN LYLY (?)
+
+(_The author of_ Euphues _is the most probable claimant
+for the authorship also of the following, which is
+perhaps the ablest and not the least characteristic of all
+the set, Martinist or anti-Martinist. The introduction
+and the notes will supply all absolutely necessary information
+for understanding it._)
+
+
+  _Pappe with an hatchet._
+
+  Alias,
+
+  _A figge for my God sonne._
+
+  Or
+
+  _Cracke me this nut._
+
+  Or
+
+  _A Countrie cuffe, that is, a sound boxe of the_
+  eare, for the idiot _Martin_ to hold his peace,
+  seeing the patch will take no
+  warning.
+
+  _Written by one that dares call a dog, a dog_,
+  and made to preuent _Martins_ dog daies.
+
+
+  Imprinted by _Iohn Anoke_, and _Iohn Astile_, for the
+  Bayliue of Withernam, _cum priuilegio perennitatis_,
+  and are to bee sold at the signe of the
+  crab tree cudgell in thwackcoate
+  lane.
+
+  _A sentence._
+
+  _Martin_ hangs fit for my mowing.
+
+
+To the Father and the two Sonnes,
+Huffe, Ruffe, and Snuffe,
+the three tame ruffians of the Church, which take pepper
+in the nose, because they can not
+marre Prelates:
+grating.
+
+
+Roome for a royster; so thats well sayd, itch a little
+further for a good fellowe. Now haue at you all my
+gaffers of the rayling religion, tis I that must take you
+a peg lower. I am sure you looke for more worke,
+you shall haue wood enough to cleaue, make your
+tongue the wedge, and your head the beetle, Ile make
+such a splinter runne into your wits, as shal make th[=e]
+ranckle till you become fooles. Nay, if you shoot
+bookes like fooles bolts, Ile be so bold as to make
+your iudgements quiuer with my thunderbolts. If
+you meane to gather clowdes in the Commonwealth,
+to threaten tempests, for your flakes of snowe weele
+pay you with stones of hayle; if with an Easterlie
+winde you bring Catterpillers into the Church, with
+a Northerne wind weele driue barrennes into your
+wits.
+
+We care not for a Scottish mist, though it wet vs
+to the skin, you shal be sure your cockscombs shall not
+be mist, but pearst to the skuls. I professe rayling,
+and think it as good a cudgell for a Martin, as a
+stone for a dogge, or a whippe for an Ape, or poyson
+for a rat.
+
+Yet find fault with no broad termes, for I haue
+mesured yours with mine, and I find yours broader
+iust by the list. Say not my speaches are light, for
+I haue weighed yours and mine, and I finde yours
+lighter by twentie graines than the allowance. For
+number you exceede, for you haue thirtie ribauld
+words for my one, and yet you beare a good spirit.
+I was loath so to write as I haue done, but that I
+learnde, that he that drinkes with cutters, must not
+be without his ale dagger; nor hee that buckles with
+Martin, without his lauish termes.
+
+Who would currie an Asse with an Iuorie combe?
+giue the beast thistles for prouender. I doo but yet
+angle with a silken flye, to see whether Martins will
+nibble; and if I see that, why then I haue wormes
+for the nonce, and will giue them line enough like a
+trowte, till they swallow both hooke and line, and
+then Martin beware your gilles, for Ile make you
+daunce at the poles end.
+
+I knowe Martin will with a trice bestride my
+shoulders. Well, if he ride me, let the foole sit fast,
+for my wit is verie kickish; which if he spurre with
+his copper replie, when it bleedes, it will all to besmeare
+their consciences.
+
+If a Martin can play at chestes, as well as his
+nephewe the ape, he shall knowe what it is for a
+scaddle pawne to crosse a Bishop in his owne walke.
+Such dydoppers must be taken vp, els theile not stick
+to check the king. Rip vp my life, discipher my
+name, fill thy answer as full of lies as of lines, swell
+like a toade, hisse like an adder, bite like a dog, and
+chatter like a monkey, my pen is prepared and my
+minde; and if yee chaunce to finde any worse
+words than you brought, let them be put in your dads
+dictionarie. And so farewell, and be hangd, and I
+pray God ye fare no worse.
+
+  Yours at an houres warning
+  Double V.
+
+
+TO THE INDIFFERENT READER.
+
+It is high time to search in what corner of the Church
+the fire is kindled, being crept so far, as that with the
+verie smoke the consciences of diuers are smothered.
+It is found that certaine Martins, if no miscreants in
+religion (which wee may suspect) yet without doubt
+malec[=o]tents (which wee ought to feare) haue throwen
+fire, not into the Church porch, but into the Chauncell,
+and though not able by learning and iudgement to
+displace a Sexton, yet seeke to remooue Bishops.
+They haue scattered diuers libels, all so taunting and
+slanderous, as it is hard to iudge, whether their lyes
+exceed their bitternesse, or their bitternesse their
+fables.
+
+If they be answered by the grauitie of learned
+Prelates, they presentlie reply with railings; which
+argueth their intent to be as farre fr[=o] the truth of
+deuotion, as their writings from mildnes of spirit.
+It is said that camels neuer drinke, till they haue
+troubled the water with their feete, and it seemes
+these Martins cannot carouse the sapp of the Church,
+till by faction they make tumults in religion. Seeing
+th[=e] either they expect no graue replie, or that they
+are settled with railing to replie; I thought it more
+conuenient, to giue them a whisk with their owne
+wand, than to haue them spurd with deeper learning.
+
+The Scithian slaues, though they bee vp in armes,
+must bee tamde with whippes, not swords, and these
+mutiners in Church matters, must haue their mouthes
+bungd with iests, not arguments.
+
+I seldome vse to write, and yet neuer writ anie
+thing, that in speech might seeme vndecent, or in
+sense vnhonest; if here I haue vsed bad tearmes, it is
+because they are not to bee answered with good
+tearmes: for whatsoeuer shall seeme lauish in this
+Pamphlet, let it be thought borrowed of Martins
+language. These Martins were hatcht of addle
+egges, els could they not haue such idle heads.
+They measure conscience by their owne yard, and
+like the theeues, that had an yron bed, in which all
+that were too long they would cut euen, all that were
+too short they would stretch out, and none escapte
+vnrackt or vnsawed, that were not iust of their beds
+length: so all that are not Martins, that is, of their
+peeuish mind, must be measured by them. If he
+come short of their religion, why he is but a colde
+Protestant, hee must bee pluckt out to the length of a
+Puritane. If any be more deuout than they are, as
+to giue almes, fast, and pray, then they cut him off
+close by the workes, and say he is a Papist. If one
+be not cast in Martins mould, his religion must needes
+mould. He saith he is a Courtier, I thinke no
+Courtier so peruerse, that seeing the streight rule of the
+Church, would goe about to bend it. It may be he
+is some Iester about the Court, and of that I meruaile,
+because I know all the fooles there, and yet cannot
+gesse at him. What euer he be, if his conscience be
+pind to his cognizance, I will account him more
+politicke than religious, and more dangerous for
+ciuill broyles, than the Spaniard for an open warre.
+I am ignorant of Martin and his maintainer, but my
+conscience is my warrant, to care for neither. For I
+knowe there is none of honour so carelesse, nor any
+in zeale so peeuish, nor of nature any so barbarous,
+that wil succour those that be suckers of the Church,
+a thing against God and policie; against God, in subuerting
+religion; against policie, in altering gouernment,
+making in the Church the feast of the Lapithees,
+where all shall bee throwne on anothers head, because
+euerie one would be the head. And these it is
+high time to tread vnder foote: for who would not
+make a threshold of those, that go about to make the
+Church a barne to thresh in. _Itaque sic disputo._
+
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+PAPPE WITH AN HATCHET
+
+Good morrow, goodman Martin, good morrow: will
+ye anie musique this morning? What, fast a sleepe?
+Nay faith, Ile cramp thee till I wake thee. _O whose
+tat?_ Nay gesse olde knaue and odd knaue: for Ile
+neuer leaue pulling, till I haue thee out of thy bed
+into the streete; and then all shall see who thou art,
+and thou know what I am.
+
+Your Knaueship brake you fast on the Bishops,
+by breaking your iests on them: but take heed you
+breake not your owne necke. Bastard Iunior dinde
+vpon them, and cramde his maw as full of mallice, as
+his head was of malapertnesse. Bastard Senior was
+with them at supper, and I thinke tooke a surfet of
+colde and raw quipps. O what queasie girds were
+they towards the fall of the leafe. Old Martin, neuer
+entaile thy wit to the eldest, for hee'le spend all he
+hath in a quire of paper.
+
+ [Sidenote: _Hee sweares by his mazer, that he will make their wits
+ wetshod, if the ale haue his swift current._]
+
+Now sirs, knowing your bellies full of Bishops
+bobbs, I am sure your bones would be at rest: but
+wee'le set vp all our rests, to make you all restie. I
+was once determined to write a proper newe Ballet,
+entituled _Martin and his Maukin_, to no tune, because
+Martin was out of all tune. Elderton swore
+hee had rimes lying a steepe in ale, which
+should marre all your reasons: there is an
+olde hacker that shall take order for to print
+them. O how hee'le cut it, when his ballets
+come out of the lungs of the licour. They
+shall be better than those of Bonner, or the ierkes
+for a Iesuit. The first begins, Come tit me come
+tat me, come throw a halter at me.
+
+Then I thought to touch Martin with Logick, but
+there was a little wag in Cambridge, that swore by
+Saint Seaton, he would so swinge him with Sillogismes,
+that all Martins answeres should ake. The
+vile boy hath manie bobbes, and a whole fardle of
+fallacies. He begins,
+
+  _Linquo coax ranis, cros coruis, vanaque vanis.
+  Ad Logicam pergo, quæ Mart'ins non timet ergo._
+
+And saies, he will ergo Martin into an ague. I haue
+read but one of his arguments.
+
+  _Tiburne stands in the cold,
+  But Martins are a warme furre;
+  Therefore Tiburne must be furd with Martins._
+
+O (quoth I) boy thou wilt be shamed; tis neither
+in moode nor figure: all the better, for I am in a
+moode to cast a figure, that shall bring them to the
+conclusion. I laught at the boye, and left him
+drawing all the lines of Martin into sillogismes,
+euerie conclusion beeing this, Ergo Martin is to bee
+hangd.
+
+Nay, if rime and reason bee both forestalde, Ile
+raile, if Martin haue not barrelde vp all rakehell
+words: if he haue, what care I to knock him on the
+head with his owne hatchet. He hath taken vp all
+the words for his obscenitie: obscentie? Nay, now
+I am too nice; squirrilitie were a better word: well,
+let me alone to squirrell them.
+
+Martin, thinkst thou, thou hast so good a wit, as
+none can outwrangle thee? Yes Martin, wee will
+play three a vies wits: art thou so backt that none
+dare blade it with thee? Yes Martin, wee will drop
+vie stabbes. Martin sweares I am some gamester.
+Why, is not gaming lawful? I know where there is
+more play in the compasse of an Hospitall, than in
+the circuite of Westchester. One hath been an old
+stabber at passage: the One that I meane, thrust a
+knife into ones thigh at Cambridge, the quarrel was
+about cater-tray, and euer since he hath quarrelled
+about cater-caps.
+
+I thought that hee which thrust at the bodie in
+game, would one daie cast a foyne at the soule in
+earnest. But hee workes closelie and sees all, hee
+learnd that of old Vydgin the cobler, who wrought ten
+yeares with spectacles, and yet swore he could see
+through a dicker of leather. He hath a wanton
+spleene, but wee will haue it stroakt with a spurne,
+because his eies are bleard, he thinkes to bleare
+all ours; but let him take this for a warning, or else
+looke for such a warming, as shall make all his
+deuices as like wood, as his spittle is like woodsere.
+Take away the Sacke, and giue him some Cinamom
+water, his conscience hath a colde stomacke. Cold?
+Thou art deceiued, twil digest a Cathedral Church as
+easilie as an Estritch a two penie naile.
+
+But softe Martins, did your Father die at the
+Groyne? It was well groapt at, for I knewe him
+sicke of a paine in the groyne. A pockes of that
+religion (quoth Iulian Grimes to her Father) when al
+his haires fell off on the sodaine. Well let the olde
+knaue be dead. Whie are not the spawnes of such
+a dog-fish hangd? Hang a spawne? drowne it; alls
+one, damne it.
+
+Ye like not a Bishops rochet, when all your fathers
+hankerchers were made of his sweete harts smocke.
+That made you bastards, and your dad a cuckold,
+whose head is swolne so big, that he had neede sende
+to the cooper to make him a biggin: and now you
+talke of a cooper, Ile tell you a tale of a tubb.
+
+ [Sidenote: _They are not so many, thei are all Centimani, an hundred
+ hands a peece: so that in all they are but one thousand._]
+
+At Sudburie, where the Martin-m[=o]gers swarmd to
+a lecture, like beares to a honnie pot: a good honest
+strippling, of the age of fiftie yeares or thereabout,
+that could haue done a worse act if companie had
+not been neere, askt his sweete sister, whether
+lecherie in her conscience were a sinne? In faith
+(quoth she) I thinke it the superficies of sinne, and
+no harme if the tearmes be not abusde, for you must
+say, vertuously done, not lustily done. Fie, this is
+filthie ribaldry. O sir, ther is no mirth without
+ribaldrie, nor ribaldrie without Martin, ask mine
+hostesse of the iuie bush in Wye for the one, and
+my old hostesse of the Swanne in Warwicke for the
+other. She is dead: the diuell she is. You are too
+broad with Martins brood: for hee hath a hundred
+thousand that will set their handes to his Articles,
+and shewe the Queene. Sweeter and
+sweeter: for wee haue twentie hundred
+thousand handes to withstand them. I
+would it were come to the grasp, we would
+show them an Irish tricke, that when they
+thinke to winne the game with one man,
+wee'le make holde out till wee haue but two
+left to carrie them to the gallowes: well
+followed in faith, for thou saidst thou wert a gamester.
+All this is but bad English, when wilt thou come to a
+stile? Martin hath manie good words. Manie? Now
+you put me in minde of the matter, there is a booke
+c[=o]ming out of a hundred merrie tales, and the petigree
+of Martin, fetchte from the burning of Sodome, his
+armes shal be set on his hearse, for we are prouiding
+his funerall, and for the winter nights the tales shall
+be told _secundum vsum Sarum_: the Deane of
+Salisburie can tell twentie. If this will not make
+Martin mad, malicious and melancholie (ô braue letter
+followed with a full crie) then will we be desperate, and
+hire one that shall so translate you out of French into
+English, that you will blush and lie by it. And one
+will we coniure vp, that writing a familiar Epistle about
+the naturall causes of an Earthquake, fell into the
+bowells of libelling, which made his eares quake for
+feare of clipping, he shall tickle you with taunts; all
+his works bound close, are at least sixe sheetes in
+quarto, and he calls them the first tome of his familiar
+Epistle: he is full of latin endes, and worth tenne of
+those that crie in London, _haie ye anie gold ends to
+sell_. If he giue you a bob, though he drawe no
+bloud, yet are you sure of a rap with a bable. If he
+ioyne with vs, _perijsti_ Martin, thy wit wil be massacred:
+if the toy take him to close with thee, then
+haue I my wish, for this tenne yeres haue I lookt to
+lambacke him. Nay he is a mad lad, and such a
+one as cares as little for writing without wit, as
+Martin doth for writing without honestie; a notable
+coach companion for Martin, to drawe Diuinitie from
+the Colledges of Oxford and Cambridge, to Shoomakers
+hall in Sainct Martins. But we neither feare
+Martin, nor the foot-cloth, nor the beast that wears
+it, be he horse or asse; nor whose sonne he is, be
+he Martins sonne, Iohns sonne, or Richards sonne;
+nor of what occupation he be, be a ship-wright, cart-wright,
+or tiburn-wright. If they bring seuen hundred
+men, they shall be boxt with fourteen hundred
+boyes. Nay we are growing to a secret bargaine.
+O, but I forgate a riddle; _the more it is spied, the lesse
+it is seene_. Thats the Sunne: the lesse it is spied of
+vs, the more it is seene of those vnder vs. The
+Sunne? thou art an asse, it is the Father, for the old
+knaue, thinking by his bastardie to couer his owne
+heade, putteth it like a stagge ouer the pale. Pale?
+nay I will make him blush as red as ones nose, that
+was alwaies washt in well water.
+
+What newes from the Heraldes? Tush, thats
+time enough to know to morrow, for the sermon is
+not yet cast. The sermon foole? why they neuer
+studie, but cleaue to Christ his _dabitur in illa hora_.
+They venter to catch soules, as they were soles;
+Doctors are but dunces, none sowes true stitches in
+a pulpet, but a shoomaker.
+
+ [Sidenote: _Martin Iunior saies, hee found his fathers papers vnder a
+ bush, the knaue was started from his Fourme._]
+
+Faith, thou wilt bee caught by the stile.
+What care I to be found by a stile, when
+so many Martins haue been taken vnder
+an hedge? If they cannot leuell, they will
+roue at thee, and anatomize thy life from
+the cradle to the graue, and thy bodie from
+the corne on thy toe, to the crochet on thy
+head. They bee as cunning in cutting vp an honest
+mans credit, as Bull in quartering a knaues bodie.
+Tush (what care I) is my posie; if hee meddle with
+mee, Ile make his braines so hot that they shall
+crumble, and rattle in his warpt scull, like pepper in
+a dride bladder.
+
+I haue a catalogue of al the sheepe, and it shall
+go hard, but I will crosse the bel-weather. Why
+shuld I feare him that walkes on his neats-feete.
+Neither court, nor countrie that shal be free, I am
+like death, Ile spare none. There shall not misse a
+name of anie, that had a Godfather; if anie bee
+vnchristened, Ile nicke him with a name.
+
+But whist; beware an action of the case. Then
+put this for the case, whether it bee not as lawfull to
+set downe the facts of knaues, as for a knaue to
+slander honest men. Alls as it is taken; marie the
+diuell take al, if truth find not as many soft cushions
+to leane on as trecherie.
+
+Theres one with a lame wit, which will not weare
+a foure cornerd cap, then let him put on Tiburne,
+that hath but three corners; and yet the knaue himselfe
+hath a pretie wench in euerie corner.
+
+ [Sidenote: _He calls none but the heavens to witnesse._]
+
+I could tickle Martin with a true tale of one of
+his sonnes, that hauing the companie of one
+of his sisters in the open fieldes, saide, hee
+would not smoother vp sinne, and deale in
+hugger mugger against his Conscience. In the hundred
+merrie tales, the places, the times, the witnesses and
+all, shall be put downe to the proofe, where I warrant
+you, the Martinists haue consciences of proofe. Doost
+think Martin, thou canst not be discouered? What
+foole would not thinke him discouered that is balde?
+Put on your night cap, and your holie day English, and
+the best wit you haue for high daies, all wil be little
+enough to keep you from a knaues penance, though
+as yet you bee in a fooles paradice. If you coyen
+words, as _Cankerburie_, _Canterburines_, etc. whie, I
+know a foole that shall so inkhornize you with
+straunge phrases, that you shall blush at your owne
+bodges. For Similes, theres another shal liken thee
+to anie thing, besides he can raile too. If Martin
+muzzle not his mouth, and manacle his hands, Ile
+blabb all, and not sticke to tell, that pewes and stewes
+are rime in their religion.
+
+Scratch not thy head Martin, for be thou Martin
+the bird, or Martin the beast; a bird with the longest
+bill, or a beast with the longest eares, theres a net
+spread for your necke. Martin, Ile tell thee a tale
+woorth twelue pence, if thy witt bee woorth a pennie.
+
+There came to a Duke in Italie, a large lubber
+and a beggerlie, saying hee had the Philosophers
+Stone, and that hee could make golde faster than
+the Duke could spend it. The Duke askt him why
+hee made none to mainteine himself? Because,
+quoth he, I could neuer get a secret place to worke
+in; for once I endeuoured, and the Popes holinesse
+sent for me, whom if he had caught, I should haue
+been a prentice to mainteine his pride. The Duke
+minding to make triall of his cunning, and eager of
+golde, set him to worke closely in a vault, where it
+was not knowen to his neerest seruants. This
+Alcumist, in short time consumed two thousande
+pound of the Dukes gold, and brought him halfe a
+ducket: whie (quoth the Duke) is this all? All,
+quoth he, my Lord, that I could make by Art. Wel
+said the Duke then shalt thou see my cunning: for
+I will boile thee, straine thee, and then drie thee, so
+that of a lubber, that weighed three hundred weight,
+I will at last make a dram of knaues powder. The
+Duke did it.
+
+ [Sidenote: _Martin and his mainteiner are both sawers of timber, but
+ Martin stands in the pit, all the dust must fall in his eies, but he
+ shal neuer walke on the boards._]
+
+Martin, if thou to cousen haue crept into the
+bosome of some great m[=e], saying thou hast the
+churches discipline, and that thou canst by thy
+faction and pollicie pull down Bishops and set vp
+Elders, bring the lands of the Clergy into the cofers
+of the Temporaltie, and repaire Religion, by impairing
+their liuings, it may bee, thou shalt bee hearkened
+too, stroakt on the head, greasd in the hand,
+fed daintelie, kept secretlie, and countenaunst
+mightelie. But when they perceiue that all thy
+deuices bee but Chymeraes, monsters of thine owne
+imaginations, so farre from pulling downe a Cathedrall
+Church, that they cannot remooue a corner of a square
+cap, th[=e] will they deale with thee as the
+Duke did with the Alcumist, giue thee as
+many bobs on the eare as thou hast eaten
+morsels of their meate, and make thee an
+example of sedition to be pointed at, that
+art now so mewde vp that none can point
+where thou art. All this tale, with the application,
+was not of my penning, but found
+among loose papers; marie he that did it,
+dares stand to it. Now, because I haue nothing to
+doo betweene this and supper, Ile tell you another
+tale, and so begin Winter by time.
+
+There was a libeller, who was also a coniurer, so
+that whatsoeuer casting of figures there was, he deceiued
+them; at the last, one as cunning as himself,
+shewed, wher he sate writing in a fooles coate, and so
+he was caught and whipt. Martin, there are figures
+a flinging, and ten to one thou wilt be found sitting
+in a Knaues skinne, and so be hangd.
+
+Hollow there, giue me the beard I wore yesterday.
+O beware of a gray beard, and a balde head: for if
+such a one doo but nod, it is right dudgin and deepe
+discretion. But soft, I must now make a graue
+speach.
+
+There is small difference between Swallowes and
+Martins, either in shape or nature, saue onely, that the
+Martins haue a more beetle head, they both breed
+in Churches, and hauing fledgde their young ones,
+leaue nothing behind them but durt. Vnworthie to
+come into the Church porch, or to be nourished
+vnder anie good mans eues, that gnawe the bowels,
+in which they were bred, and defile the place, in
+which they were ingendred.
+
+They studie to pull downe Bishopps, and set vp
+Superintendents, which is nothing else but to raze
+out good Greeke, and enterline bad Latin. A fine
+period; but I cannot continue this stile, let me fal
+into my olde vaine. O doost remember, howe that
+Bastard Iunior complaines of brothells, and talkes of
+long Megg of Westminster. A craftie iacke, you
+thoght because you twitted Mar-martin, that none
+would suspect you; yes faith Martin, you shall bee
+thresht with your owne flaile.
+
+ [Sidenote: _Hee thought Lais had still lien at Corinth as wel as
+ Paul._]
+
+It was one of your neast, that writt this for a loue
+letter, to as honest a wom[=a] as euer burnt malt.
+'Grace, mercie, and peace to thee (O widow)
+with feruent motions of the spirit, that it
+may worke in thee both to will and to doo.
+Thou knowest my loue to thee is, as Paules
+was to the Corinthians; that is, the loue of copulation.'
+
+How now holie Martin, is this good wooing? If
+you prophane the Scriptures, it is a pretie wit; if we
+but alledge Doctors to expound them, wee are wicked.
+If Martin oppresse his neighbor, why, hee saith, it is
+his conscience; if anie else doo right, it is extremitie.
+Martin may better goe into a brothell house, then
+anie other go by it; he slides into a bad place like
+the Sunne, all others stick in it like pitch. If Martin
+speake broad bawdrie, why all the crue saies, your
+worship is passing merrie. Martin will not sweare,
+but with indeede, in sooth, and in truth, hee'le cogge
+the die of deceipt, and cutte at the bumme carde of
+his conscience. O sweetelie brought in, at least
+three figures in that line, besides the wit ant.
+
+One there was, and such a one as Martin would
+make the eldest of his Elders, that hauing fortie
+angels sent him for a beneuolence, refusde to giue
+the poore fellowe a quittance for the receipt, saying,
+Christ had giuen his master a quittance, the same
+howre he told it out: and this was at his table, where
+he sate with no less than fortie good dishes of the
+greatest dainties, in more pompe than a Pope, right
+like a superintendent.
+
+Now to the two bastards, what, were you twins?
+It shuld seeme so, for ther w[=e]t but a paire of sheeres
+betweene your knaueries. When the old henne hatcht
+such eggs, the diuell was in the cocks comb. Your
+father thrusts you forward, remember pettie Martins
+Aesops crab, the mother going backward, exhorted
+her sonnes to goe forward; doo you so first mother,
+quoth they, and we will follow. Now the old cuckold
+hath puld in his hornes, he would make you creepe
+cleane out of the shell, and so both loose your
+houses and shewe your nakednesse. You go about
+impossibilities, wele no such ch[=a]ge, and if ye had it,
+ye would be wearie of it.
+
+There was a man like Martin that had a goose,
+which euerie daie laid him a golden egge, he, not
+content with the blessing, kild his goose, thinking to
+haue a myne of golde in her bellie, and finding
+nothing but dung, the g[=a]der wisht his goose aliue.
+Martinists that liue well by the Church, and receiue
+great benefites of it, thinke if all Churches were
+downe they should be much better, but when they
+shall see c[=o]fusion instead of discipline, and atheisme
+to be found in place of doctrine, will they not with
+sighs wish the Churches and Bishops in their wonted
+gouernm[=e]t? Thou art well seen in tales, and
+preachest Aesops fables. Tush, Ile bring in _Pueriles_,
+and _Stans puer ad mensam_, for such vnmannerlie
+knaues as Martin must bee set againe to their A.B.C.
+and learn to spell Our Father in a Horne books.
+Martin Iunior giues warning that none write against
+reuerent Martin: yes, there are _a tribus ad centum_,
+from three to an h[=u]dred, that haue vowed to write
+him out of his right wittes, and we are all _Aptots_,
+in all cases alike, till we haue brought Martin to the
+ablatiue case, that is, to bee taken away with Bulls
+voyder.
+
+O here were a notable full point, to leaue Martin
+in the hangmans apron. Nay, he would be glad to
+scape with hanging, weele first haue him lashte
+through the Realme with cordes, that when hee
+comes to the gallowes he may be bleeding new.
+
+The babie comes in with _Nunka_, _Næme_, and
+_Dad_ (Pappe with an hatchet for such a puppie), giue
+the infant a bibbe, he all to beslauers his mother
+tongue, if he driuell so at the mouth and nose, weele
+haue him wipte with a hempen wispe. _Hui?_ How
+often hast thou talkt of haltring? Whie it runnes
+still in my minde that they must be hangd. Hangde
+is the Que, and it comes iust to my purpose.
+
+There was one endited at a Iaile deliuerie of felonie,
+for taking vp an halter by the high way. The Iurie
+gaue verdit and said guiltie. The Iudge an honest
+man, said it was hard to find one guiltie for taking
+vp a penie halter, and bad them consider, what it
+was to cast awaie a man. Quoth the foreman, we
+haue enquired throughly, and found there was a
+horse tied to the halter. I, marie (quoth the Iudge),
+then let him be tied to the halter, and let the horse
+goe home. Martin, a Monarch in his owne moyst
+conceit, and drie counsell, saies he is enuied onelie
+because he leuelleth at Bishops; and we say as the
+Iudge saith, that if there were nothing else it were
+hard to persecute them to death; but when we finde
+that to the rule of the Church, the whole state of the
+Realme is linckt, and that they filching away
+Bishop by Bishop, seeke to fish for the Crown, and
+glew to their newe Church their owne conclusions,
+we must then say, let Bishops stand, and they hang;
+that is, goe home. Looke howe manie tales are in
+this booke, so manie must you abate of an hundred
+in the next booke, reckon this for one.
+
+There came by of late a good honest Minister,
+with a cloake hauing sleeues: ah (quoth a Martinist,
+sitting on a bulke in Cheapside) he is a knaue I
+warrant you, a claspe would become one of his coate
+to claspe his cloak vnder his chinne. Where tis to
+be noted, that they come in with a sleeueless
+conscience, and thinke it no good doctrine which is
+not preached with the cloak cast ouer each shoulder
+like a rippier.
+
+Twas a mad knaue and a Martinist that diuided
+his sermon into 34 parts for memorie sake, and
+would handle but foure for memorie sake, and they
+were, why Christ came, wherefore Christ came, for
+what cause Christ came, and to what end Christ
+came; this was all for memorie sake. If that Martin
+could thatch vp his Church, this mans scabship should
+bee an Elder, and Elders they may bee, which being
+fullest of spungie pith, proue euer the driest kixes.
+For in time you shall see that it is but a bladder of
+worldlie winde which swells in their hearts, being
+once prickt, the humour will quicklie be remoued,
+O what a braue state of the Church it would be for
+all Ecclesiasticall causes to come before Weauers and
+Wierdawers, to see one in a motlie Ierkin and an
+apron to reade the first lesson. The poore Church
+should play at vnequal game, for it should loose al by
+the _Elder_ hand. Nay Mas Martin, weele make you
+deale, shuffle as well as you can, we meane to cut it.
+
+If you had the foddring of the sheep you would
+make the Church like Primero, foure religions in it,
+and nere one like another. I cannot out of his gaming
+humour. Why? Is it not as good as Martins
+dogged humour, who without reuerence, regard, or
+exception, vseth such vnfitting tearmes, as were hee
+the greatest subiect in England hee could not iustifie
+them.
+
+Shut the doores (sirs) or giue me my skimmer,
+Martins mouth had sod vnskimde these twelue
+months, and now it runnes ouer; yet let him alone,
+he makes but porredge for the diuell.
+
+His Elderberines though it be naught worth, yet
+is it like an elderberrie, which being at the ripenes of
+a perfect black, yet brused staines ones hands like
+bloud. They pretending grauitie in the rottennes of
+their zeale, bee they once wrung, you shall finde them
+lighter than feathers. Thats a simile for the slaues.
+Nay, Ile touch them deeper, and make them crie, O
+my heart, there is a false knaue among vs.
+
+Take away this beard, and giue me a pickede
+vaunt, Martin sweares by his ten bones: nay, I will
+make him mumpe, mow, and chatter, like old Iohn
+of Paris garden before I leaue him.
+
+If Martin will fight Citie fight, wee challenge him
+at all weapons, from the taylors bodkin to the watchmans
+browne bil. If a field may be pitcht we are
+readie: if they scratch, wee will bring cattes: if
+scolde, we will bring women: if multiplie words, we
+will bring fooles: if they floute, we will bring
+quippes: if dispute the matter, we will bring
+schollers: if they buffet, we will bring fists. _Deus
+bone_, what a number of we will brings be here?
+Nay, we will bring Bull to hang them. A good note
+and signe of good lucke, three times motion of Bull.
+Motion of Bull? Why, next olde Rosses motion of
+Bridewell, Buls motion fits them best. _Tria sequuntur
+tria_, in reckoning Bull thrise, methinkes it should
+presage hanging. O bad application; Bad? I doo
+not thinke there can be a better, than to applie a
+knaues necke to an halter. Martin cannot start, I
+am his shadowe, one parte of the day before him,
+another behinde him; I can chalke a knaue on his
+backe thrice a weeke, Ile let him bloud in the combe.
+
+Take heed, he will pistle thee. Pistle me? Then
+haue I a pestle so to stampe his pistles, that Ile beate
+all his wit to powder. What will the powder of
+Martins wit be good for? Marie, blowe vp a dram
+of it into the nostrels of a good Protestant, it will
+make him giddie; but if you minister it like Tobacco
+to a Puritane, it will make him as mad as a Martin.
+
+Goe to, a hatch before the doore, Martin smels
+thee, and wil not feare thee; thou knowest how he
+deales with the Archbishop and a Counseller, hee
+will name thee and that broadlie. Name me?
+Mary he and his shall bee namefied, that's it I
+thirst after, that name to name, and knowing one
+another, wee may in the streetes grapple; wee except
+none: wee come with a verse in our mouthes,
+courage in our hearts, and weapons in our hands, and
+crie
+
+_Discite iustitiam moniti, et non temnere diuos._
+
+Martins conscience hath a periwig; therefore to
+good men he is more sower than wig: a Lemman
+will make his conscience curd like a Posset. Now
+comes a biting speach, let mee stroake my beard thrice
+like a Germain, before I speak a wise word.
+
+Martin, wee are now following after thee with hue
+and crie, and are hard at thy heeles; if thou turne
+backe to blade it, wee doubt not but three honest
+men shall bee able to beate six theeues. Weele
+teach thee to commit sacriledge, and to robbe the
+Church of xxiiij. Bishops at a blowe. Doost thinke
+that wee are not men Martin, and haue great men to
+defend vs which write? Yes, although with thy
+seditious cloase, thou would'st perswade her Maiestie
+that most of the Gentlemen of account and men
+of honour, were by vs thought Puritanes. No, it is
+your poore Iohns, that with your painted consciences
+haue coloured the religion of diuers, spreading
+through the veynes of the Commonwealth like
+poyson, the doggednes of your deuotions; which
+entring in like the smoothnes of oyle into the flesh,
+fretteth in time like quicksiluer into the bones.
+
+When children play with their meate, tis a signe
+their bellies are full, and it must be taken from them;
+but if they tread it vnder their feete, they ought to
+be ierkt. The Gospell hath made vs wantons, wee
+dallie with Ceremonies, dispute of circumstances,
+not remembring that the Papists haue been making
+roddes for vs this thirtie yeares; wee shall bee
+swing'd by them, or worse by Martin, if Martins be
+worse. Neuer if it, for they bee worse with a witnesse,
+and let the dieull be witnesse. Wee are so
+nice, that the Cap is a beame in our Church, the
+booke of Common Praier a milstone, the _Pater
+noster_ is not well pend by Christ. Well, either religion
+is but policie, or policie scarce religious.
+
+If a Gentleman riding by the way with twentie
+men, a number of theeues should by deuise or force
+binde all his seruants; the good Iustice of Peace
+would thinke he should be robd. When Martinists,
+rancke robbers of the Church, shall binde the legges
+and armes of the Church, me thinkes the supreme
+head of the Church should looke pale.
+
+They that pull downe the bells of a steeple, and
+say it is conscience, will blow vp the chauncell to
+make it the quintessence of conscience. Bir Ladie,
+this is a good settled speech, a Diuine might haue
+seemed to haue said so much. O sir, I am nor al
+tales, and riddles, and rimes, and iestes, thats but my
+Liripoope, if Martin knock the bone he shall find
+marrow, and if he looke for none, we'le knock the
+bone on his pate, and bring him on his marie bones.
+
+I haue yet but giuen them a fillip on the conceipt,
+Ile fell it to the ground hereafter. Nay, if they make
+their consciences stretch like chiuerell in the raine,
+Ile make them crumple like parchment in the fire.
+
+I haue an excellent balme to cure anie that is
+bitten with _Martin mad-dog_.
+
+I am worth twentie Pistle-penners; let them but
+chafe my penne, and it shal sweat out a whole realme
+of paper, or make th[=e] odious to the whole Realme.
+
+O but be not partial, giue them their due though
+they were diuels, so will I, and excuse them for taking
+anie money at interest.
+
+There is a good Ladie that lent one of these
+Martinists fortie pounds, and when at the daie shee
+required her money, Martin began to storme, and
+said, he thought her not the child of God, for they
+must lend, looking for nothing againe, and so to
+acquite himselfe of the blot of vsurie he kepte the
+principall.
+
+These Martins make the Scriptures a Scriueners
+shop to drawe conueyances, and the common pleas
+of Westminster to take forfeitures. Theyle not sticke
+to outlaw a mans soule, and serue it presently with an
+execution of damnation, if one denie them to lie
+with his neighbours wife. If they bee drunke, they
+say, they haue Timothie his weake stomacke, which
+Saint Paule willeth to warme with wine.
+
+They haue sifted the holie Bible, and left vs
+nothing as they say, but branne; they haue boulted
+it ouer againe and againe, and got themselues the
+fine meale; tis meale indeede, for with their wresting
+and shuffling holie Writ, they find all themselues
+good meales, and stand at liuerie, as it were, at other
+mens tables.
+
+_Sed heus tu, dic sodes_, will they not bee discouraged
+for the common players? Would those Comedies
+might be allowed to be plaid that are pend, and then
+I am sure he would be decyphered, and so perhaps
+discouraged.
+
+He shall not bee brought in as whilom he was,
+and yet verie well, with a cocks combe, an apes face,
+a wolfs bellie, cats clawes, etc. but in a cap'de cloake,
+and all the best apparell he ware the highest day in
+the yeare, thats neither on Christmas daie, Good
+fridaie, Easter daie, Ascension, nor Trinitie sundaie
+(for that were popish), but on some rainie weeke-daie,
+when the brothers and sisters had appointed a match
+for particular praiers, a thing as bad at the least as
+Auricular confession.
+
+ [Sidenote: _If it be shewed at Paules, it will cost you foure pence:
+ at the Theater two pence: at Sainct Thomas a Watrings nothing._]
+
+A stage plaier, though he bee but a cobler by
+occupation, yet his chance may bee to play the Kings
+part. Martin, of what calling so euer he be, can
+play nothing but the knaues part, _qui tantum constans
+in knauitate sua est_. Would it not bee
+a fine Tragedie, when _Mardocheus_ shall play
+a Bishoppe in a Play, and Martin _Hamman_,
+and that he that seekes to pull downe
+those that are set in authoritie aboue him,
+should be hoysted vpon a tree aboue all
+other.
+
+ [Sidenote: _Reade Martin Seniors Libell, and you shall perceiue that
+ he is able to teach Gracchus to speake seditiouslie_.]
+
+Though he play least in sight now, yet
+we hope to see him stride from Aldgate to Ludgate,
+and looke ouer all the Citie at London Bridge. Soft
+swift, he is no traytor. Yes, if it bee treason
+to encourage the Commons against the chiefe
+of the Clergie, to make a generall reuolt
+from the gouernment so wel established, so
+wisely maintained, and so long prospering.
+
+Because they say, _Aue Cæsar_, therefore
+they meane nothing against Cæsar. There
+may bee hidden vnder their long gownes
+short daggers, and so in blearing Cæsars eyes, conspire
+Cæsars death. God saue the Queene; why it
+is the Que which they take from the mouthes of all
+traytors, who though they bee throughly conuinced,
+both by proofe and their owne confessions, yet at
+the last gaspe they crie, God saue the Queene. GOD
+saue the Queene (say I) out of their hands, in
+whose hearts (long may the Queene thus gouerne) is
+not engrauen.
+
+Her sacred Maiestie hath this thirtie yeares, with
+a setled and princelie temper swayed the Scepter of
+this Realme, with no lesse content of her subiects,
+than wonder of the world. GOD hath blessed her
+gouernment, more by miracle th[=a] by counsaile, and
+yet by counsaile as much as can come from policie.
+Of a State taking such deepe roote, as to be fastened
+by the prouidence of God, the vertue of the
+Prince, the wisedome of Counsellers, the obedience of
+subiects, and the length of time; who would goe
+about to shake the lowest bough, that feeles in his
+conscience but the least blessing. Heere is a fit
+roome to squese them with an Apothegme.
+
+There was an aged man that liued in a well
+ordered Common-wealth by the space of threescore
+yeares, and finding at the length that by the heate of
+some mens braines, and the warmnes of other mens
+bloud, that newe alterations were in hammering, and
+that it grewe to such an height, that all the desperate
+and discontented persons were readie to runne their
+heads against their head; comming into the midst of
+these mutiners, cried as loude as his yeares would
+allow; Springalls and vnripened youthes, whose
+wisedomes are yet in the blade, when this snowe
+shall be melted (laying his hand on his siluer haires)
+then shal you find store of durt, and rather wish for
+the continuance of a long frost, than the comming of
+an vntimely thaw. Ile moralize this.
+
+Ile warrant the good old man meant, that when
+the ancient gouernment of the state should be altered
+by faction, or newe lawes brought in that were deuised
+by nice heads, that there should followe a foule and
+slipperie managing; where if happelie most did not
+fall, yet all would bee tired. A settled raigne is not
+like glasse mettal, to be blowne in bignesse, lenght
+or fashion of euerie mans breath, and breaking to be
+melted againe, and so blowne afresh; but it is compared
+to the fastning of the Cedar, that knitteth it
+selfe with such wreaths into the earth that it cannot
+be remooued by any violent force of the aire.
+
+Martin, I haue taken an inuentorie of al thy
+vnciuill and rakehell tearmes, and could sute them in
+no place but in Bedlam and Bridewell, so mad they
+are, and so bad they are, and yet all proceedes of the
+spirit. I thinke thou art possest with the spirites of
+Iacke Straw and the Black-smith, who, so they might
+rent in peeces the gouernment, they would drawe
+cuts for religion.
+
+If all be conscience, let conscience bee the foundation
+of your building, not the glasse, shew effects of
+conscience, mildnesse in spirit, obedience to Magistrates,
+loue to thy brethren. Stitch charitie to thy
+faith, or rip faith from thy works.
+
+If thou wilt deale soberlie without scoffes, thou
+shalt be answered grauely without iests, yea and of
+those, whom thou canst not controll for learning,
+nor accuse for ill life, nor shouldst contemne for
+authori[ti]e. But if like a restie Iade thou wilt take
+the bitt in thy mouth, and then runne ouer hedge
+and ditch, thou shalt be brok[=e] as Prosper broke his
+horses, with a muzroule, portmouth, and a martingall,
+and so haue thy head runne against a stone wall.
+
+If thou refuse learning, and sticke to libelling; if
+nothing come out of those lauish lips, but taunts not
+without bitternesse, yet without wit; rayling not without
+spite, yet without cause, then giue me thy hand,
+thou and I will trie it out at the cuckingstoole. Ile
+make thee to forget Bishops English, and weep Irish;
+next hanging, there is no better reuenge on Martin
+than to make him crie for anger; for there is no
+more sullen beast than a he drab. Ile make him
+pull his powting croscloath ouer his beetle browes for
+melancholie, and then my next booke shall be Martin
+in his mubble fubbles.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Here I was writing _Finis_ and _Funis_, and determined
+to lay it by, till I might see more knauerie filde
+in: within a while appeared olde Martin with a wit worn
+into the socket, twinkling and pinking like the snuffe
+of a candle; _quantum mutatus ab illo_, how vnlike the
+knaue hee was before, not for malice but for sharpnesse.
+
+The hogshead was euen come to the hauncing,
+and nothing could be drawne from him but dregs:
+yet the emptie caske sounds lowder than when it was
+ful; and protests more in his waining, than he could
+performe in his waxing. I drew neere the sillie soule,
+whom I found quiuering in two sheetes of protestation
+paper. O how meager and leane hee lookt, so creast
+falne, that his combe hung downe to his bill, and
+had I not been sure it was the picture of enuie, I
+shoulde haue sworne it had been the image of death,
+so like the verie Anatomie of mischiefe, that one
+might see through all the ribbes of his conscience, I
+began to crosse my selfe, and was readie to say the
+_Pater noster_, but that I knewe he carde not for it,
+and so vsed no other wordes, but _abi in malam
+crucem_, because I knewe, that lookt for him. I came
+so neere, that I could feele a substantiall knaue from
+a sprites shadowe.
+
+I sawe through his paper coffen, that it was but a
+cosening corse, and one that had learnde of the holie
+maid of Kent, to lie in a trance, before he had
+brought foorth his lie; drawing his mouth awrie,
+that could neuer speake right; goggling with his eyes
+that watred with strong wine; licking his lips, and
+gaping, as though he should loose his childes nose,
+if he had not his longing to swallowe Churches; and
+swelling in the paunch, as though he had been in
+labour of a little babie, no bigger than rebellion; but
+truth was at the Bishoppes trauaile: so that Martin
+was deliuered by sedition, which pulls the monster
+with yron from the beastes bowells. When I perceiued
+that he masked in his rayling robes, I was so
+bolde as to pull off his shrowding sheete, that all the
+worlde might see the olde foole daunce naked.
+
+Tis not a peniworth of protestation that can buy
+thy pardon, nor al worth a penie that thou proclaimest.
+Martin comes in with bloud, bloud, as though hee
+should bee a martir. Martins are mad martirs, some
+of them burnt seauen yeares agoe, and yet aliue.
+One of them lately at Yorke, pulling out his napkin
+to wipe his mouth after a lie, let drop a surgeans
+caliuer at his foote where he stood; these fellowes
+can abide no pompe, and yet you see they cannot be
+without a little squirting plate: rub no more, the
+curtall wrinches.
+
+They call the Bishops butchers, I like the
+Metaphore wel, such calues must be knockt on the
+head, and who fitter than the Fathers of the Church
+to cut the throates of heresies in the Church. Nay,
+wh[=e] they haue no propertie of sheepe but bea, their
+fleece for flockes, not cloath, their rotten flesh for
+no dish, but ditches; I thinke them woorth neither
+the tarring nor the telling, but for their scabbednes
+to bee thrust from the pinfolde to the scaffold, and
+with an _Habeas corpus_ to remooue them from the
+Shepheards tarre-boxe to the hangmans budget.
+
+I but he hath sillogismes in pike sauce, and arguments
+that haue been these twentie yeres in pickle.
+I, picke hell, you shall not finde such reasons, they
+bee all in _celarent_, and dare not shewe their heads,
+for wee will answere them in _ferio_ and cut their
+combes. So say they, their bloud is sought. Their
+bloud? What should wee doo with it, when it will
+make a dogge haue the toothach to eat the puddings.
+
+Martin tunes his pipe to the lamentable note of
+_Ora whine meg_. O tis his best daunce next shaking
+of the sheetes; but hee good man meant no harme
+by it. No more did one of his minions, that thinking
+to rap out an oath and sweare by his conscience,
+mistooke the word and swore by his concupiscence;
+not vnlike the theefe, that in stead of God speede,
+sayd stand, and so tooke a purse for God morowe.
+
+Yet dooth Martin hope that all her Maiesties
+best subiects will become Martinists; a blister of
+that tongue as bigge as a drummes head; for if the
+Queenes Maiestie haue such abiects for her best
+subiects, let all true subiects be accompted abiects.
+
+They that teare the boughs, will hew at the tree,
+and hauing once wet their feete in factions, will not
+care how deep they wade in treason.
+
+After Martin had racked ouer his protestation with
+a Iades pace, hee runnes ouer his fooleries with a
+knaues gallop, ripping vp the souterlie seames of his
+Epistle, botching in such frize iestes vppon fustion
+earnest, that one seeing all sortes of his shreddes,
+would thinke he had robd a taylors shop boord; and
+then hee concludes all doggedlie, with Doctor _Bullens_
+dogge _Spring_, not remembring that there is not a
+better Spanniell in England to spring a couie of
+queanes than Martin.
+
+Hee sliues one, has a fling at another, a long tale
+of his talboothe, of a vulnerall sermon, and of a fooles
+head in souce. This is the Epistle which he woonders
+at himselfe, and like an olde Ape, hugges the Vrchin
+so in his conceipt, as though it should shew vs some
+new tricks ouer the chaine, neuer wish it published
+Martin, we pittie it before it comes out. Trusse vp
+thy packet of flim flams and roage to some countrey
+Faire, or read it among boyes in the belfrie, neuer
+trouble the church with chattering; but if like dawes,
+you will be cawing about Churches, build your nests
+in the steeple, defile not the quier.
+
+Martin writes merely, because (hee saies) people
+are carried away sooner with iest than earnest. I,
+but Martin neuer put Religion into a fooles coate;
+there is great oddes betweene a Gospeller and a
+Libeller.
+
+If thy vaine bee so pleasaunt, and thy witt so
+nimble, that all consists in glicks and girds; pen
+some play for the Theater, write some ballads for
+blind _Dauid_ and his boy, deuise some iests, and
+become another _Scogen_, so shalt thou haue v[=e]t inough
+for all thy vanities, thy Printer shall purchase, and all
+other iesters beg.
+
+For to giue thee thy due, thou art the best died
+foole in graine that euer was, and all other fooles
+lacke manie graines, to make them so heauie.
+
+There is not such a mad foole in Bedlam, nor
+such a baudie foole in Bridewell, nor such a dronken
+foole in the stockes, nor such a scolding foole on the
+cucking-stoole, nor such a cosening foole on the
+pillerie, nor such a roaging foole in the houses of
+correction, nor such a simple foole kept of alms, nor
+such a lame foole lying in the spittle, nor in all the
+world, such a foole, all. Nay for fooles set down in
+the scriptures, none such as Martin.
+
+What atheist more foole, that saies in his heart,
+_There is no God_? What foole more proud, that
+stands in his own c[=o]ceit? What foole more couetous
+than he that seekes to tedd abroad the Churches
+goods with a forke, and scratch it to himselfe with a
+rake.
+
+Thou seest Martin with a little helpe, to the foure
+and twentie orders of knaues, thou maist solder the
+foure and twentie orders of fooles, and so because
+thou saist thou art vnmarried, thou maist commit
+matrimonie, from the heires of whose incest, wee will
+say that which you cannot abide, _Good Lord deliuer
+vs_.
+
+If this veyne bleede but sixe ounces more I shall
+proue a pretie railer, and so in time may growe to
+bee a proper Martinist. Tush, I doo but licke ouer
+my pamphlet, like a Beares whelpe, to bring it in
+some forme; by that time he replies, it will haue
+clawes and teeth, and then let him looke to bee
+scratcht and bitten too.
+
+Thou seest Martin Moldwarpe, that hetherto I
+haue named none, but markt them readie for the
+next market: if thou proceed in naming, be as sure
+as thy shirt to thy knaues skinne, that Ile name such,
+as though thou canst not blush, because thou art past
+shame, yet they shall bee sorie, because they are not
+all without grace.
+
+Pasquil is coming out with the liues of the Saints.
+Beware my Comment, tis odds the margent shall be as
+full as the text. I haue manie sequences of Saints,
+if naming be the aduantage, and ripping vp of liues
+make sport; haue with thee knuckle deepe, it shall
+neuer bee said that I dare not venter mine eares
+where Martin hazards his necke.
+
+Now me thinkes Martin begins to stretch himselfe
+like an old fencer, with a great conscience for buckler
+and a long tongue for a sword. Lie close, you old
+cutter at the locke, _Nam mihi sunt vires, et mea tela
+nocent_. Tis ods but that I shal thrust thee through
+the buckler into the brain, that is through the conscience
+into the wit.
+
+If thou sue me for a double maime, I care not
+though the Iurie allow thee treble damages, it cannot
+amount to much, because thy c[=o]science is without
+wit, and thy wit without conscience, and therefore
+both not worth a penie.
+
+Therefore take this for the first venew, of a yonger
+brother, that meanes to drie beate those of the _Elder_
+house. Martin, this is my last straine for this fleech
+of mirth. I began with God morrowe, and bid you
+God night. I must tune my fiddle, and fetch some
+more rozen, that it maie squeake out Martins
+Matachine.
+
+
+
+
+III.--NICHOLAS BRETON
+
+(Wit and Will _has been already more frequently reprinted
+than most things of Breton's, but these reprints
+have been in very small numbers, and not generally
+accessible. It is given here as being equally characteristic
+of the author and of the time, both in matter and
+in form, in the mixture of verse and prose, in the plays
+on words, in the allegory, in the morality, and in the
+style._)
+
+
+THE WIL OF WIT, WIT'S WILL, OR WIL'S
+WIT, chuse you whether. Containing five discourses,
+the effects whereof follow. READE AND
+JUDGE. Compiled by NICHOLAS BRETON, gentleman.
+_Non hà, che non sà._ Vires sit Vulnere
+Veritas. London: Printed by THOMAS CREEDE,
+1599.
+
+
+TO GENTLEMEN SCHOLLERS AND
+STUDENTS WHATSOEUER
+
+Gentlemen, or others, who imploy your time in the
+studies of such Arts as are the ornaments of Gentilitie,
+to your courtesies I commend the vnlearned discourse
+of my little wit, which as I wil not intreate you to commend,
+deseruing the contrarie: so I hope you will not
+disdain, though it deserue discommendation, but so by
+your pardons excuse my small discretion by great desire,
+that hereafter, with less hast, I may take as great care
+as pains to publish a peece of worke somewhat more
+worth the perusing. Till when, wishing you all the
+fauor of God, with good fortune of the world, I rest in
+honour of learning to you and all students.
+
+A LOUING FRIEND, N.B., GENTLEMAN.
+
+
+THE EPISTLE TO THE GENTLE READER
+
+A new booke says one; true, it came forth but tother
+day; good stuffe, says another. Read, then iudge. I
+confesse it may seeme to a number a bold attempt to
+set out a forme of wit, considering the witty discourses
+of such fine wits as haue deserued such comendation, as
+may driue this meane peece of woorke of mine into
+vtter disgrace, were it not that perfect courtesie dooth
+bear with imperfect knowledge, regarding more the good
+minde in the writer then the matter written: and therefore
+the best will giue good words whatsoeuer they
+thinke, to encourage a forward wil to doo better, when
+indeed it were a fantasticall heade that could doo worse.
+Well when Wit is a wool-gathering, and Will wandring
+the world without guide, what a case that manne is in
+that is in such a taking; I referre you to mad folks of
+whom you may see examples suficient, and so I being
+in a certain melancholie moode past all Gods forbod,
+tooke my pen and Inke and Paper and somewhat I
+would go doo whatsoeuer it were to put out one conceit
+and bring in another. At last and at first of a suddaine
+warres and at adventures, by God's good helpe and
+good fortune the little wit that I had meeting with good
+Will, I knew not how, fell to worke (at first) I know not
+what, but hauing written a while, I made somewhat of
+it which, though little to any great purpose, yet if it
+please the Readers, I am contented, and if any man
+thinke it well done then Wit shall think Will a good boy,
+and Will shall think hee tooke Wit in a good vaine, and
+Will and Wit shall haue the more heart hereafter to fall
+to further woorke; but if I haue bin more wilful than
+wise to trouble your wittes with a witlesse peece of work
+pardon me for this once, ye shall see I will please you
+better hereafter; in the meane time desiring your
+courtesies to commend what you think worthie and not
+to disdain without desert, I rest wishing your content in
+what you wish well as I pray you wish me as I do you,
+
+YOUR FRIEND NICHOLAS BRETON, GENTLEMAN.
+
+
+AD LECTOREM, DE AUTHORE
+
+  What thing is Will, without good Wit?
+    Or what is Wit, without good Will?
+  The one the other doth so fit:
+    As each one can be but ill.
+  But when they once be well agreed,
+  Their worke is likely well to speed.
+
+  For proofe, behold good _Bretons_ will,
+    By helpe of Wit, what it hath writ:
+  A worke not of the meanest skill,
+    Nor such as shewes a simple Wit.
+  But such a _wit_ and such a _will_,
+  As hath done well, and hateth ill.
+
+  I need not to commend the man,
+    Whom none can justly discommend:
+  But do the best, the best that can,
+    Yet some will spite, and so I end.
+  What I have said, I say so still,
+  I must commend this Wit and Will.
+
+FINIS
+
+
+AD LECTOREM, DE AUTHORE
+
+  What shall I say of Gold, more then tis Gold:
+    Or call the Diamond, more then precious:
+  Or praise the man, with praises manifold
+    When of himselfe, himselfe is vertuous?
+  _Wit_ is but _Wit_, yet such his _Wit_ and _Will_,
+  As proues ill good, or makes good to be ill.
+
+  Why? what his _Wit_? proceed and aske his _Will_,
+    Why? what his _Will_? reade on, and learne of _Wit_:
+  Both good I gesse, yet each a seuerall ill,
+    This may seeme strange, to those that heare of it.
+  Nay, nere a whit, for vertue many waies,
+  Is made a vice, yet Vertue hath her praise.
+
+  Wherefore, O _Breton_, worthie is thy worke,
+    Of commendations worthie to the worth:
+  Sith captious wittes, in euerie corner lurke,
+    A bold attempt, it is to set them forth
+  A forme of Wit, and that in such a sort,
+  As none offends, for all is said in sport.
+
+  And such a sport, as serues for other kinds,
+    Both young and old, for learning, armes, and love:
+  For Ladies humors, mirth with mone he findes,
+    With some extreames, their patient mindes to proue.
+  Well, _Breton_, write in hand, thou hast the thing,
+  That when it comes, loue, wealth, and fame will bring.
+
+  W. S.
+
+
+A PRETIE AND WITTIE DISCOURSE
+BETWIXT WIT AND WILL
+
+Long have I travelled, much ground have I gone,
+many wayes have I trode, mickle mony have I spent,
+more labour have I lost, in seeking an olde friend of
+mine: whose companie so courteous, his counsaile
+commodious, his presence so pleasant, and his absence
+so greevous, that when I thinke of him, and misse
+him, I find such a misse of him, as all things are out
+of frame with me. And out of frame, can come to
+no good fashion. Oh, what shall I do? It is long
+since I lost him: long have I sought him. And too
+long (I fear) it wil be ere I find him. But wot you
+who it is? Oh, my Wit, I am from my Wit, and
+have bin long. Alas the day, I have bin almost mad
+with marching through the world without my good
+guide, my friend, and my companion, my brother,
+yea, my selfe. Alas, where is he? When shall I see
+him? How shall I seeke him, and whither shall I
+walke? I was too soone wearie of him, and am now
+wearie of my selfe without him. Well, I will go
+where I may, I may hap to find him: but hap is
+unhappie. Therefore hap good, or hap ill, I will
+walke on still: if I find him, happie man. If I do
+not, what then? Content my selfe even as I can,
+patience where is no remedie.
+
+
+_Wit._
+
+Long have I lookt, far have I sought, oft have I
+wisht, and sore have I longed for my merrie mate,
+my quicke sprite, my dearling, and my dearest byrd:
+Whose courtesie so contentive, whose helpe so necessary,
+whose necessitie so great, whose presence so
+pleased me, and absence so angers mee, that when I
+would have him, and see I am without him, I am not
+in order, and being out of order, can take no good
+course. Alas, what shall betide me? I have lost
+my love, or my love hath lost me. Would God wee
+might meete againe, and be merry togither: which I
+cannot bee without him? Oh, what have I lost?
+my Will, whither is he gone? when will he returne?
+who hath led him away? or will bring him backe
+againe? what company is he falne into? or how doth
+he leade his life? Well, time yet may turne him.
+Till when I wish for him, hoping to meete him, but
+hope is uncertaine;
+
+      Yet hope well, and have well,
+      Thus alone I cannot dwell;
+      If I find him so it is:
+      If not, then I wis,
+      I must be content with this.
+  Patience is a vertue.
+      But whom doo I behold so neare?
+      It is my Will, with heavie cheere:
+      Well, I am sorie for this geare,
+      Yet will I to him out of hand,
+      And know, how so the case doth stand.
+  What? Will? _Will._ Who? Wit?
+
+  _Wit._  Whither away?
+
+  _Will._ Where I may.
+
+  _Wit._  Whereunto?
+
+  _Will._ Oh, to do.
+
+  _Wit._  What?
+
+  _Will._ Teach thou me that.
+
+  _Wit._  Why, sigh not, boy?
+
+  _Will._ Oh, all my joy.
+
+  _Wit._  Where is it, Will?
+
+  _Will._ Among the ill.
+
+  _Wit._  What, is it lost?
+
+  _Will._ That greeves me most.
+
+  _Wit._  And not to be recoverèd?
+
+  _Will._ Oh, my heart is almost dead.
+
+  _Wit._  What, Will, hold up head,
+        I will be thy friend to death.
+
+  _Will_. Then give me leave to fetch my breath,
+        And welcome: twise and thrice well met:
+        Where my hearts joy is set.
+        Many a walk have I fet,
+        But no comfort could I get,
+        Till now by thee mine onely friend,
+        With whom I meane my life to end.
+        If thou wilt give me leave, good Wit.
+
+  _Wit._ Yes, good sweete Will, and glad of it.
+
+  _Will._ Then harke, good Wit, unto my tale:
+        Not of amidde my blisse in bale,
+        Nor any such like stuffe so stale.
+        I studie not to talke in verse,
+        But I will unto thee rehearse
+        A plaine discourse, in homely prose,
+        Wherein I will at large disclose:
+        How I have lived, with whom, and where:
+        How I was tossèd, here and there:
+        How I did chaunce to travaile hither,
+        And so we will be merrie togither.
+
+  _Wit._ Contented. Verse is good sometime,
+        But sometime prose, and sometime rime.
+        But be it either prose or verse,
+        What so thou wilt, good Will, rehearse:
+        I meane to heare it to the end,
+        And quit thee quickly as a friend.
+        But since thou likest prose so well,
+        Begin in prose thy tale to tell.
+
+
+_Willes Tale._
+
+Oh, good Wit (if thou doost remember), I lost
+thee in travaile to the Well of Wisedome. Since
+when, I have wandred through a wildernesse of woe,
+which in the Mappe of that Countrey (I find) is called
+the Desart of Desire. Wherein I saw so many wayes,
+as now in this, and then in that. At last I came to
+the hill of Hard Happe, which ledde mee downe into
+a Vale of Vanitie. There did I live in the Lake of
+Miseries, with the lost people, that having followed
+Fancie, found Penitence, the reward of running heads.
+But Lord what a life it is? I lothe to thinke on it.
+Beleeve mee, sweete Wit, there is such falling out
+with Fancie, who shifts all upon Folly. Such exclamation
+upon Folly, who brings them to Fortune: such
+cursing and banning of Fortune, for her froward
+dealing: in gentle helping them uppe uppon her
+wheele, and then suddaine dinging them downe
+(almost to their destruction), that if their bee a Hell
+in this world, there is the place. God keepe all good
+mindes from such a filthy corner. _Wit._ Amen. But
+tell me how camst thou thence? _Will._ I will tell
+you anon: but first I will tell you more. There is
+of all States. Princes crie out of cares: Lordes, of
+lacke of living: Ladyes, of false love: souldiers, of
+want of pay: Lawyers, of quiet: Poore men, of Lawe:
+Merchants, of shipwracke: Mariners, of fowle weather:
+Usurers, of sermons, and Divines, of usurie: Players,
+of Preachers, and Preachers, of Players: Dicers, of
+loosing, and losers, of dicing: Cryples, of fighting,
+and fighters, of hurts: the Rich, of sicknesse: the
+Poore, of want: the Sicke, of paine: the healthfull, of
+ill happe: the unhappie, of the time that ever they
+were borne. Oh, it is a pittious crie: I would not
+be there againe, to heare it as I have done, for the
+gaine of Europe.
+
+_Wit._ Beleeve me, I cannot blame thee: but tell
+me, how camst thou thence? _Will._ Oh, brother, I
+will tell you how: you know, sometime travellers must
+needes have rest, which they must come by as they
+may: Now, I having walked (as I told you) through
+this unpleasant place, weary at last, I laide mee
+downe in the ditch of Distresse: where, finding many
+dead sculles, and other boanes, I there thought to
+begin a sleepe, or sleepe my last: now lying there in
+such sort as I tell you, mee thought in my sleepe I
+sighed, in which sorrow a good motion of minde set
+my heart to prayer; which tended to this effect, that
+it would please the mightie and mercifull Majestie of
+the Most Highest, to send me some meane, to lead
+me out of this miserie; beeing as it were from my
+Wit, and altogither comfortlesse. Now, suddenly
+there appeared unto me an olde aged man, who tooke
+me by the hand, with these words: Arise, thou
+sluggish wanton, walke no longer out of thy way,
+turne thee backe from this straie pathe, experience
+doth teach thee: What is Will without Wit? Prayer
+hath procured thee pardon, the high and onely God
+hath given thee Grace; by Grace goe seeke that is
+worth the finding; look where Wit is; too him, and
+make much of him. With joy of that word, I awaked,
+and with shame of my folly in leaving thee, I hung
+the head; with sorrow whereof I was almost of life
+deprived; but now by thy sweete welcome wholy
+revived; now awake (I should say), I saw none but
+thee; and now, while I live, I will follow thee.
+
+_Wit._ Why, was it heere you slept, or have you
+come farre since you waked? _Will._ No, no, heere
+did I sleepe, heere is the place of paine so unpleasant:
+but now I see thee, I have received comfort, for that
+I know thou canst leade me to Wisdome, who will
+soone shew me the way to paradise. _Wit._ Why then,
+Will, well hast thou slept, better hast thou dreamed,
+but best hast thou waked, to hit on mee so happily,
+who intend to bring thee to that good beginning, that
+shall leade thee to endlesse blisse. But to quit thy
+tale, I will tell thee a little of my travaile, and so we
+will away togither.
+
+
+_Wits Tale._
+
+Will, thou knowest when I left thee, in the lane of
+Learning, I went on straight to the schoole of Vertue,
+and with her Testimoniall, to the Well of Wisdome,
+which stands within the pallace of Patience; where I
+found the fountaine kept with foure ladies, whose
+names were Wisdome, Temperance, Fortitude, and
+Justice. Now, when I came thither, with sufficient
+warning from Vertue, yet (for order sake) they thus
+used me; Wisedome, which stood with a snake in
+her hand (over whose head was written), _I see the
+holes that subtill serpents make_, thus used her warie
+speech unto me. Sirra (quoth she), how presume
+you into this place? from whence came you, and how
+and whither will you? Lady (quoth I), from Fancies
+forte I came, and am now travailing to the forte of
+Fame. I came now directly from the schoole of
+Vertue; brought thither by Learning had by Reason,
+servant to Instruction; and heere behold Patience,
+who hath lead me, who is further to plead for me.
+Welcome (quoth shee), but art thou not wearie?
+No (quoth I), nor would be, if the walke had beene
+longer, to have my will. _Will._ Why didst thou thinke
+me there abouts? Oh, lord, I was far wide. _Wit._
+Peace, Will, a while: when I denide wearinesse; Yea
+(quoth Fortitude), an other of the Dames (over whose
+head was written, _I yield to good, but overthrow the ill_),
+I will see if you be wearie or not, I must trie a fall
+with you. At first I made no account of her, but
+when I begun, I found her of great force. Yet in
+the ende, shee was content to give me over, and let
+me come neare the Well. Now, upon the well brinkes
+stoode Justice, over whose head was written, _my hand
+hits right, death is my stroke, my ballance will not lye_.
+Then was my words written down by Memorie, and
+weyed with Truth; which being even in judgment,
+shee bad me welcome, and so was content to let me
+lay my lips to the sweet lycquor of Sapience. Oh it
+is a delicate water!
+
+Now, as I stoode, I heard a trumpet sound; which
+done, I heard a voyce which said: What trumpe can
+sound the true report of Fame? Now desirous to
+see the place, whence I heard this sound, I craved
+the ladies pasport to the said place, who gave me no
+other pasport than the commandement of Patience,
+warning me in any wise to take hold of Time, when
+I met him, and turne him to my use: with these two,
+I should come to the forte afore me. I, right glad
+of my good hap, tooke leave, and forth I went; anon
+I met Master Time, with his sithe in his hand, singing,
+_Save vertue, al things I cut downe, that stand within
+my way_. But as he came working, I watcht him
+neare, and as he strooke aside, I suddenly stept to
+him, tooke him by the noddle, and turned him to my
+work. What wouldest thou (quoth he)? I must not
+stand idle. No (quoth I), thou shalt walke, and
+leade me to the fort of Fame. Come, then (quoth
+he). Goe away softly (quoth Patience). Content
+(quoth I). And so togither we go to this stately
+Court; where, being first entertained by Courtly, we
+were brought to Favour, and so led up to Fame.
+Now, being on knee before her highnesse, she first
+gave me her hand to kisse, and willed the lords to
+bid me welcome. See here (quoth she) the perfection
+of affection, what a travaile he hath undertaken onely
+for our favour, which he shall be sure of. The Nobles
+used me honourably, the Gentlemen courteously, the
+Servants reverently, and Favour freendly. Now, as
+I stood, I heard such sweete musick, such heavenly
+songs, it made my heart leape to heare them. The
+prince did sing in praise of peace, the lords of plentie,
+the ladies of true love, the lawiers of quiet, the servaunts
+of lawe, the merchaunts of sayling, and saylers
+of faire weather, the rich of health, the poore of
+charitie, the healthfull of good happe, and the happie
+of Gods blessing: there was no usurers, dicers, players,
+nor fighters heard of. Oh, there was a place of
+pleasure; if in the world there be a paradice, that
+was it. Oh that thou haddest beene with mee!
+
+_Will._ So would I, but tell me, how came you
+againe? _Wit._ I will tell thee. When I had beene
+within, and without, and heard such sweete harmony,
+of such singular musicke; at last, I came downe into
+the base court, led by Favour, to a lodging which was
+called the counting house; there sate Memorie, to
+take the names of such as had bin entertained, and
+meant to seeke favour, at the hands of happie Fame.
+But as I was going through the court, I met one of
+the maides of honour attendaunt upon the princesse,
+whose name (Favour told me) was Belezza, accompanied
+with Gentilezza, another of the maides. Now,
+as I was walking, I stared so earnestly on them, that
+(not looking to my feete) I stumbled against a stone,
+and with the fall I awaked: now awake, I thought of
+my good Will; and see how soone it was my happe
+to meete with thee; but no sooner then I wished for
+thee, nor then I am heartily glad of thee. _Will._
+Gramercy, Wit. But yet I beshrow thee. _Wit._ Why
+so? _Will._ For loosing mee. _Wit._ Thou mightest
+have followed. _Will._ You might have held me. _Wit._
+When? _Will._ When I was neere you. _Wit._ Where
+was that?
+
+_Will._ Where you lost me. But tell me one thing,
+where was it you slept, and awaked so sodainely?
+What? was it heere abouts? _Wit._ Yea, heere Will,
+heere, heere is the Forte of Fame, as thou shalt finde,
+when thou hast beene with me a while; there is no
+house, but hath a sinke; no field so fayre, but hath
+foule ditch; no place so pleasant, but hath a corner
+of anoyance; he that runnes retchlesly, falles headlong;
+and hee that is in a hole, he knowes not how,
+must come out he knowes not when. Care is to be
+had in all things, at all times, and in all places; well,
+thou hast knowne some sorrowe; learne to leave selfe
+judgement; follow friend, go with me. _Will._ Why?
+I would never have lost thee, but-- _Wit._ But that
+thou wert wearie of me. _Will._ Why? I was not
+wearie, but-- _Wit._ No, but that you were a wanton.
+_Will._ Why? I was not a wanton, but-- _Wit._ No, but
+that you were wilfull. _Will._ Why? I was not wilfull,
+but-- _Wit._ No, but that you thought better of your
+selfe than any else. _Will._ Why? but I did not
+thinke so, but-- _Wit._ Nay, you may say you would
+not have thought so, but--
+
+_Will._ But what? or why? _Wit._ But because
+you did not see your selfe. _Will._ Yes, indeede, but
+I did; I did see my selfe and you too. _Wit._ Indeede,
+but you did not; for if you had seene me,
+you would not so have lost mee. _Will._ Yes, but I
+did see you, but when I had looked on you a while,
+I looked on my selfe so long, till you were out of
+sight, and then I looked after you and could not see
+you. _Wit._ Well, but then you sawe mee not, and
+so you lost mee; but since you now have found me,
+follow me neere, stay but a buts length behinde mee,
+least I suddainly steppe a flights shotte before you,
+and then a furlong further, you never overtake me.
+_Will._ But soft, runnes Wit so fast, Will is weerie.
+_Wit._ Goe too, throw off your clogge of care, trust to
+me, so you do as I bid you, all shall be well. _Will._
+Yes, but-- _Wit._ But what? _Will._ But a little of
+your helpe. _Wit._ Yes, but-- _Will._ But? What? _Wit._
+But that you must of your selfe labour. _Will._ So I
+will, but-- _Wit._ But not too much: well, contented,
+I will worke. Wilt thou help? _Will._ Yea, willingly.
+_Wit._ How long? _Will._ Till death. _Wit._
+Why, wilt thou dye? _Will._ Not with working: yet
+will I worke sore. _Wit._ Whereto? _Will._ To winne
+my wish.
+
+_Wit._ What is that? _Will._ You can tell. _Wit._
+But tell me. _Will._ What? _Wit._ Is it favour?
+_Will._ That is one parte of it. _Wit._ Wealth? _Will._
+An other parte. _Wit._ Honour? _Will._ The greatest
+next. _Wit._ Content. _Will._ All in all. _Wit._ Where?
+_Will._ In heart. _Wit._ How? _Will._ By happe. _Wit._
+How is that? _Will._ By hope. _Wit._ Oh, hope is
+vaine. _Will._ Oh, do not discomfort mee. _Wit._
+Doubt the worst. _Will._ Wherefore? _Wit._ Because
+I bid thee. _Will._ Why doo you bid mee? _Wit._ For
+this reason: the best will helpe it selfe. _Will._ What
+is the worst? _Wit._ Envie. _Will._ What will hee
+doo? _Wit._ Mischiefe. _Will._ To whome? _Wit._
+To good mindes. _Will._ How shall I doo, then?
+_Wit._ Let patience use prayer, God will preserve His
+servants.
+
+_Will._ That I shall: then it is not impossible.
+_Wit._ What? _Will._ To get content? _Wit._ It is hard.
+
+_Will._ What then? _Wit._ Doo our best. _Will._
+Content. _Wit._ But harke, Will: shall I tell thee a
+little more of the fort of Fame, what I sawe and
+heard before I came away? Over the gate at the
+entrie, I sawe written pretie posies, some in Latine,
+some in Italian, some French, and some English. In
+Latine I remember these: _Quid tam difficile quod non
+solertia vincit?_ By that was written, _Labore vertus_:
+and by that, _Vertute fama_: and over that, _Fama
+immortalis_: and that was written in many places
+about the house. In Italian was written, _Gioventù
+vecchezza_: by that, _Vecchezza Morte, et Morte Tempo,
+et Tempo Fama_: but over all, _Sopra tutti, triumpha
+Iddio_. In French, _Le fol Fortune, il prudent Fame.
+Fame est divine, diuinitie est pretieuse, Dieu est nostre
+guarde._ In English was written. Patience is a
+vertue. Vertue is famous. Fame is divine. Divinitie
+is gratious. Grace is the gift of God: and God is
+the onely giver of grace. Which by patience seekes
+the vertue that is famous, to the divine pleasure of
+the Giver of all good gifts: blessed be His name, this
+shall he find, that enters the fort of Fame.
+
+_Will._ Oh, sweete speeches. _Wit._ Then wil I tell
+thee further: as I walked up and down with Favour,
+I heard Courtesie and Content (a couple of courtiers)
+discoursing of thee and mee. Of the vertues of Wit,
+and the vanities of Will.
+
+Wit, they sayde, was desirous of knowledge, but
+Will could take no paine: Wit would have patience,
+but Will would be wood with anger: Wit would worke,
+when Will would stand ydle: Wit would be walking,
+when Will would bee slouthfull: Wit woulde call for
+Willes helpe, when Will cared not for Wits counsaile:
+Wit woulde bee wise, and Will would be wanton:
+Wit would be vertuous, and Will vaine: Wit would
+be famous, and Will foolish: Wit would be sober, and
+Will frantick: Wit would be carefull, and Will carelesse:
+Wit studying, and Wil playing: Wit at good
+exercise, and Wil idle, and worse occupied: Wit
+mourning for Will, Will making no mone for Wit:
+Wit in his dumps, and Will in delights: Wit would
+doo well, and have Will doo no worse, if he would
+follow him. But Will would loose Wit, and Wit
+must worke without Wil and against Wit: and yet
+this is straunge, they were sworne brethren, one could
+not be without the other. Yet Wit could make better
+shift alone: Wit could finde Will, when he had lost
+himselfe, and Will (yet) would please Wit well, when
+he would be a good boy: which he would never be
+till he were beaten, and that with the smart of his owne
+rod: then he would come home to Wit, follow Wit as
+his best freend, and never leave him to the last houre.
+
+Now when I heard this discourse I remembred
+thee, and beeing able to tarie no longer the hearing
+of such matter against him whom I love, I entreated
+Favour to bring me forth into the court, towardes the
+counting house: whither walking, I stumbled by the
+way, and fell as I told you: wherewith I awoke.
+Now, good Will, since I have found thee, and now
+thou seest the miseries of the world, come, followe
+me, let me bring thee to a better course: let not mee
+mourne for thee, nor other thus talke of thee: I will
+make much of thee, if thou wilt love mee: I will
+make thee give them cause to say: See what a
+chaunge! Will is come home, Will is content to be
+ruled by Wit: hee workes with Wit, he walkes with
+Wit: he mournes and is merie with Wit: he is
+travailing to Vertue with Wit, he will finde Fame by
+Wit: why he, Will? He is as welcome as Wit, as
+worthie as Wit, now he hath learned of Wit how to
+direct his course: beleeve me, Will, I love thee.
+
+_Will._ Gramercie, good Wit, and I thee. But tell
+me one thing, mee thinks all this was but a dreame,
+for in the ende you did awake with the fall. _Wit._
+True, Will, I was in a dreame, and so wert thou.
+_Will._ Oh, then, you did heare men talke so much of
+me in your sleepe: awake, I warrant you, you shall
+never heare so much amisse of me. _Wit._ I hope so
+too: now I have met with thee, I will shewe thee a
+way, whereby thou shalt deserve no such discredit.
+_Will._ Gramercie. But shall I now tell thee a little
+that I had forgotten, that I sawe and hearde in the
+Lake of Miserie? _Wit._ Contented, good Will, and
+gramercie too.
+
+_Wil._ Then, Wit, thou shalt understand, I heard
+these speeches past among penitent people: when
+Wit is wayward, Wil is nobody: wofull Wit, blames
+wanton Wil: wanton Wit, chides worthy Wil: unhappie
+Wit, hasty Wil: fantastical Wit, forward Will.
+Over that, Wit thinks scorne of Will, but yet he cannot
+bee without him: Wit hath lost Will, but yet he
+is glad to seeke him: Wit mournes for Will, but Wit
+sees it not: Will travailes for the stone, that Wit
+must whet himselfe uppon: Will is painefull, but
+Wit unthankful: Will is courteous, but Wit curst:
+Will soone content, Wit too curious: Will would be
+ruled, but Wit had no reason: Will would have beene
+famous, had Wit beene vertuous: Will had beene
+good, had not Wit beene bad: Will had not lost Wit,
+had Wit lookt unto him: Will would doo well, if Wit
+would doo better: Will would learne, if Wit would teach
+him: but Will must worke without Wit, and against
+Wit: and yet it was woonderful that sworne brethren
+should so disagree, yet one so necessarie for the other
+in all actions, as nothing could hit well, when they
+were asunder. Will could meete Wit in a maze, and
+comfort him with his company: Will could bring Wit
+into a good order, when he was quite out of course.
+Wit would be glad of Will: but when? When he
+found the want of his freend, which he would never
+doo, till he were wearie of working alone: and then
+he would embrace Will, make much of Will, and
+never leave Will for any worlds good. Now when I
+heard so much of my good Wit, I could not tarie
+any longer in the company, but from them I go, and
+by my selfe sate downe, where I slept, and awakt, as
+I told you.
+
+_Wit._ Gramarcie, good Will; why then I perceive
+we were both asleepe, we lost one another in travaile,
+and travailed in sleepe, to seeke one another; which
+walking we have found: happy be this day of our
+meeting, and twise happy houre of this our freendly
+greeting. Hee runs farre, that never turnes; hee
+turnes well, that stayes in time; and hee stayes well,
+that stands fast; he stands fast, that never falles;
+hee falles lowe, that never riseth; he riseth well,
+that stands alone when he is up. Good Will, well
+met, let us now bee merrie, shake hands, sweare company,
+and never part. _Will._ Content, heere is my
+hand, my heart is thine. But ere we goe any further,
+let us be a little merry. _Wit._ What shall we doo?
+_Will._ Let us sing. _Wit._ Content. But what?
+_Will._ What you will; begin, and I will answere you.
+
+
+  _A Song betweene Wit and Will_
+
+  _Wit._  What art thou, Will?
+
+  _Will._ A babe of natures brood.
+
+  _Wit._  Who was thy syre?
+
+  _Will._ Sweet lust, as lovers say.
+
+  _Wit._  Thy mother who?
+
+  _Will._ Wild lustie wanton blood.
+
+  _Wit._  When wert thou borne?
+
+  _Will._ In merrie moneth of May.
+
+  _Wit._  And where brought up?
+
+  _Will._ In schoole of little skill.
+
+  _Wit._  What learndst thou there?
+
+  _Will._ Love is my Lesson still.
+
+         *       *       *       *       *
+
+  _Wit._  Where readst thou that?
+
+  _Will._ In lines of sweete delight.
+
+  _Wit._  The author who?
+
+  _Will._ Desire did draw the booke.
+
+  _Wit._  Who teacheth? _Will._ Time.
+
+  _Wit._  What order? _Will._ Lovers right.
+
+  _Wit._  What's that? _Will._
+               To catch Content, by hooke or crooke.
+
+  _Wit._  Where keepes he schoole?
+
+  _Will._ In wildernesse of wo.
+
+  _Wit._  Why lives he there?
+
+  _Will._ The fates appoint it so.
+
+  _Wit._  Why did they so?
+
+  _Will._ It was their secret will.
+
+  _Wit._  What was their will?
+
+  _Will._ To worke fond lovers wo.
+
+  _Wit._  What was their woe?
+
+  _Will._ By spite their sport to spill.
+
+  _Wit._  What was their sport?
+
+  _Will._ Dame Nature best doth know.
+
+  _Wit._  How grows their spite?
+
+  _Will._ By want of wish.
+
+  _Wit._  What's that?
+
+  _Will._ Wit knowes right well,
+               Will may not tell thee what.
+
+         *       *       *       *       *
+
+  _Wit._  Then, Will, adue.
+
+  _Will._ Yet stand me in some steed.
+
+  _Wit._  Wherewith, sweete Will?
+
+  _Will._ Alas, by thine advise.
+
+  _Wit._  Whereto, good Will?
+
+  _Will._ To win my wish with speed.
+
+  _Wit._  I know not how.
+
+  _Will._ Oh Lord, that Will were wise.
+
+  _Wit._  Wouldst thou be wise?
+
+  _Will._ Ful fain, then come from schoole.
+
+  _Wit._  Take this of Wit:
+               Love learns to play the foole.
+
+_Will._ Content, I wil come from Schoole, I wil
+give over _Artem Amandi_, and I will with thee to some
+more worthie study, which may be as well to my
+commoditie, comfort, as content. _Wit._ Well said,
+Will, now I like thee well; and, therefore, now I will
+do my best to worke thy delight. But for that now
+I have a peece of worke in hand, which none must
+be privie too, till it be finished; we will heere leave
+off talke, and fall to our worke togither, so I shall the
+sooner and the better dispatch it.
+
+_Will._ Content, You shall have my helpe in it, or
+any other thing, wherein I may stand you in steed.
+And since you are so glad of my company, we will
+live and die togither. _Wit._ Gramercie, good Will;
+and meane time let us pray God to prosper our worke;
+let us have care how we worke; what, when, and
+where we worke, that we may find it commodious,
+not contrarie to Gods will, contentive to the best,
+offensive to fewe or none; let the matter be vertuous,
+so shall he prove famous. _Will._ Good Wit, I thanke
+thee for thy good counsaile; God give us His grace
+to doo so. I am glad to see thee so well bent; now
+I must needs love thee; thou wert never wont to be
+so well minded. _Wit._ Better late than never; it is
+good to be honest, though a man had forsworne it;
+there is no time too late to thrive. _Will._ True; and
+I promise thee now, I hope I shall doo well by the
+comfortable counsaile of so good a friend. God be
+thanked, the old vaine is gone. _Stet pro ratione
+voluntas, Sum Juvenis fruar hoc mundo, Senex colam
+pietatem. Omnia vincit amor._ Faint heart never
+woon faire lady. Let us be merrie while we are here;
+when we are gone, all the world goes with us; let
+them take care that come after. A man is a man, if
+he have but a hose on his head. _Oh che bella donna?
+favor della Signora, oh dolce amore, La Sennora et
+spada, senza estos nada, Perle Amor de dieu: Beau
+damoiselle; oh brave huom; Che gallante cheval? il
+faut avoire come?_ That makes no matter; then
+sweetes had no sower; but now Wit, oh Will, dost
+thou remember all this? I pray thee forget all, and
+think no more of such things. I am sorie that ever
+they were in my heart, but now thou shall see we will
+do well inough: we will take another way, to both
+our comforts. We will to Care, and intreate him to
+lend us his helpe, for without him, indeed we shall
+make an ilfavoured ende, of what we begin untowardly.
+I promise thee, I heard the pretiest song betwixt him
+and Miserie that I heard a good while: if thou wilt
+set it downe in writing, I will recite it unto thee.
+_Wit._ Contented, right willingly, and thank thee too.
+_Will._ Then loe thus it was.
+
+
+  _The Song betweene Miserie and Care._
+
+  _M._ What art thou, Care?
+
+  _C._ A secret skil unseene.
+
+  _M._ Who was thy syre?
+
+  _C._ Sound Wisdome. _M._ Mother who?
+
+  _C._ Devise. _M._ And who thy nurse?
+
+  _C._ Delight I weene.
+
+  _M._ When wert thou borne?
+
+  _C._ In harvest. _M._ What to do?
+
+  _C._ To worke? _M._ With whom?
+
+  _C._ With Wit and honest Will.
+
+  _M._ What worke? _C._ In graine,
+      To gleane the good from ill.
+
+         *       *       *       *       *
+
+  _M._ What good?  _C._ The best.
+
+  _M._ And how? _C._ By warie eye.
+
+  _M._ Whose eye is that?
+
+  _C._ The eye of perfect sight.
+
+  _M._ Who beares that eye?
+
+  _C._ The head that hath me nie.
+
+  _M._ Whose head is that?
+
+  _C._ Each one that loves delight.
+
+  _M._ But what delight?
+
+  _C._ That longest doth endure.
+
+  _M._ Oh, Care. _C._ I come,
+      Thy comfort to procure.
+
+         *       *       *       *       *
+
+  _M._ Whence dost thou come?
+
+  _C._ I come from loftie skie.
+
+  _M._ When camst thou thence?
+
+  _C._ Even now. _M._ Who sent thee so?
+
+  _C._ The gods. _M._ Whereto?
+
+  _C._ To comfort Miserie.
+
+  _M._ But how?  _C._ By Wit.
+      To worke his ease of wo.
+
+  _M._ What wo?  _C._ The worst.
+
+  _M._ Whats that?  _C._ The griefe of mind.
+
+  _M._ Oh.  _C._ Feare not, Care
+      Will quickly comfort find.
+
+_Wit._ Beleeve me, I like it well: but is Care so comfortable:
+yea, indeed is it. Care is both a corsi[v]e
+and a comfort, all is in the use of it. Care is such a
+thing, as hath a great a doo in all things: why Care
+is a king in his kind. Did you never heare my discourse
+of Care in verse?
+
+_Will._ No, that I remember: if it be not long, I
+pray you rehearse it. And for my better remembrance,
+henceforth, I will write it. _Wit._ Then give eare,
+thus it was.
+
+
+THE SONG OF CARE
+
+Come, all the world, submit your selves to Care,
+  And him acknowledge for your chiefest king:
+With whom no King or Keisar may compare,
+  Who beares so great a sway in every thing.
+At home, abroad, in peace, and eke in warre,
+Care chiefly stands to either make or marre.
+
+The court he keepes is in a wise conceit,
+  His house a head, where reason rules the wit:
+His seate the heart that hateth all deceit,
+  His bed, the braine, that feels no frantick fit,
+His diet is the cates of sweet content:
+Thus is his life in heavenly pleasure spent.
+
+His kingdome is the whole world round about,
+  Sorrow his sword, to such as do rebell:
+His counsaile, wisedome, that decides each doubt,
+  His skill, foresight: of things to come, to tell.
+His chiefe delight is studies of devise,
+To keepe his subjects out of miseries.
+
+Oh courteous king, oh high and mightie Care,
+  What shall I write in honour of thy name?
+But to the world, by due desert declare
+  Thy royall state, and thy immortall fame.
+Then so I end, as I at first begun,
+Care is the king of kings, when all is done.
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+_Will._ Surely I never heard so much of Care
+before: but Reason hath shewed me, all is true that
+you have spoken of him. And therefore, let us
+humbly crave his helpe in this our worke which we
+are to take in hand, I dare warrant his favour. _Wit._
+Sayest thou so, Wil
+away, we have talked long: mountains never meete,
+but friends often: good happe comes oft unlookt for,
+but never unwelcome. I thought not to have found
+thee heere, but we see Fortune doth much, but Fates
+more, to bring friends togither: and friendship doth
+much, where faith is fixed: and faith is a jewell, and
+jewells are precious, and precious is for princes.
+
+Oh God, trust me, Wil, we must be warie to work,
+so with advise of Care, that as we are friends one to
+another, so we may prove in all actions to shew our
+cheefest jewell, our faithfull heart to God and her
+Majestie: to whom might we once be so happie as
+to presente a peece of worke worthy the receit: oh
+how glad shuld then our hearts be, which with faithful
+dutie would adventure death for her most excellent
+favour: which till by desert we find, and alwaies
+let us love and honour our singular good lord, that
+hath vouchsafed us his undeserved favour: and let
+us heartily pray for the preservation of her most
+excellent majestie, with long and prosperous raigne
+over us: as for the advancement of his honours
+estate, who by his vertues deserves, and by deserts
+hath found favour of her highness, love of her peeres,
+honour of us, and a number our betters. And so let
+us away into my closset of Conceit, where from company
+we will thinke upon such matters as here wee
+will not talke on. _Will._ Content. We will go
+togither, studie thou, and I will make my pen, readie
+at thine, or his honors commandement. And thus
+till we have dispatcht our worke in hand, let us take
+our leave humbly of our good lord, and courteously
+of all our friends: Wishing them to employ their
+studies to the pleasure of God, content of the best
+sort, profit of themselves, and good example to others:
+and so _Bacciando le mani del Signore_, let us bid them
+all adiu. From our heart, this 8. of June, 1599.
+
+
+INGENIJ VOLUNTAS.
+
+
+
+
+IV.--ROBERT GREENE
+
+
+(_One passage (that of the 'Shake-scene') in Greene's
+Groat's Worth of Wit has been hacked almost to death
+by the citations and discussions of Shakespearian commentators.
+But the rest has been but little referred
+to in comparison; and though it has been reprinted, it
+is not, to my knowledge, anywhere accessible as a whole,
+and is very generally unknown. It has, however, high
+interest, both external and internal, with the additional
+claim to preference over Greene's earlier euphuist
+romances and 'conny-catching' pamphlets that it is
+much shorter than the best of the former, and that
+nothing stands in the same relation to it as Dekker's
+<f>Hornbook</f> does to the latter. It wants little more
+introduction save the reminder that its autobiographic
+quality is evidently considerable in fact, if not so
+great as in intention, and that it was not printed till
+after the author's death._)
+
+
+GREENS,
+
+  Groats-worth of Wit,
+
+  bought with a Million of
+  _Repentaunce_.
+
+  Describing the follie of youth, the falshoode of makeshift
+  flatterers, the miserie of the negligent, and mischiefes
+  of deceiuing Courtezans.
+
+  _Written before his death, and published at his
+  dying request._
+
+  _Fælicem fuisse infaustum._
+
+  _Virescit vulnere veritas._
+
+  LONDON,
+  Printed by Thomas Creede, for Richard Oliue
+  dwelling in long Lane, and are there
+  to be solde. 1596.
+
+
+THE PRINTER TO THE GENTLE READERS
+
+I haue published heere Gentlemen for your mirth and
+benefit, _Greenes_ groatesworth of wit. With sundry of
+his pleasant discourses, ye haue beene before delighted:
+But now hath death giuen a period to his pen: onely
+this happened into my hands, which I haue published
+for your pleasures: Accept it fauorably because it was
+his last birth, and not least worth, in my poore opinion.
+But I will cease to praise that which is aboue my conceit,
+and leaue it selfe to speake for it selfe: and so abide
+your learned censuring.
+
+Yours, W. W./
+
+
+TO THE GENTLEMEN READERS
+
+GENTLEMEN. The Swan sings melodiously before death,
+that in all his life time vseth but a iarring sound. _Greene_
+though able inough to write, yet deeplyer searched with
+sickenesse than euer heretofore, sends you his Swanne-like
+song, for that he feares he shal neuer againe carroll
+to you woonted loue layes, neuer againe discouer to you
+youths pleasures. How euer yet sickenesse, riot, incontinence,
+haue at once shown their extremitie, yet if I
+recouer, you shall all see more fresh springs, than euer
+sprang from me, directing you how to liue, yet not diswading
+you from loue. This is the last I haue writ,
+and I feare me the last I shall write. And how euer I
+haue beene censured for some of my former bookes, yet
+Gentlemen / I protest they were as I had speciall information.
+But passing them, I commend this to your
+fauorable censures, and like an Embrion without shape,
+I feare me will bee thrust into the world. If I liue to
+ende it, it shall be otherwise: if not, yet will I commend
+it to your courtesies, that you may as wel be acquainted
+with my repentant death, as you haue lamented my
+carelesse course of life. But as _Nemo ante obitum felix,
+so Acta Exitus probat_: Beseeching therefore to bee
+deemed hereof as I deserue, I leaue the worke to your
+likings, and leaue you to your delights./
+
+
+A GROAT'S WORTH OF WIT
+
+In an Iland bound with the Ocean, there was sometime
+a Citie situated, made rich by Marchandize and
+populous by long space: the name is not mentioned
+in the Antiquary, or else worne out by times Antiquitie:
+what it was it greatly skilles not: but therein
+thus it happened. An old new made Gentleman
+herein dwelt, of no small credit, exceeding wealth,
+and large conscience: he had gathered from many to
+bestowe vpon one, for though he had two sonnes, he
+esteemed but one, that being as himselfe, brought
+vp to be goldes bondman, was therefore held heire
+apparent of his ill gathered goods.
+
+The other was a Scholler, and maried to a proper
+Gentlewoman, and therefore least regarded, for tis
+an olde said saw: To learning and law, ther's no
+greater foe, then they that nothing know: yet was
+not the father altogether vnlettered, for he had good
+experience in a _Nouerint_, and by the vniuersall
+tearmes therein contained, had driuen many gentlewomen
+to seeke vnknowen countries: wise he was,
+for he boare office in his / parish, and sate as formally
+in his fox-furd gowne, as if he had beene a very
+vpright dealing Burges: he was religious too, neuer
+without a booke at his belt, and a bolt in his mouth,
+ready to shoote through his sinfull neighbor.
+
+And Latin he had some where learned, which
+though it were but little, yet was it profitable, for
+he had this Philosophie written in a ring, _Tu tibi
+cura_, which precept he curiously obserued, being in
+selfeloue so religious, as he held it no point of charitie
+to part with any thing, of which he liuing might make
+vse.
+
+But as all mortall things are momentarie, and no
+certaintie can bee founde in this vncertaine world, so
+_Gorinius_ (for that shall be this Usurers name) after
+many a goutie pang that had pincht his exterior
+parts, many a curse of the people that mounted into
+heauens presence, was at last with his last summons,
+by a deadly disease arrested, where-against when hee
+had long contended, and was by Phisitions giuen
+ouer, hee cald his two sonnes before him: and willing
+to performe the olde prouerbe, _Qualis vita finis
+Ita_, hee thus prepared himselfe, and admonished
+them. My sonnes (for so your mother said ye were)
+and so I assure my selfe one of you is, and of the
+other I wil make no doubt.
+
+You see the time is come, which I thought would
+neuer haue approached, and we must now be seperated,
+I feare neuer to meete againe. This sixteene
+yeares daily haue I liued vexed with disease: and
+might I liue sixteene more, how euer miserably, I
+should thinke it happie. But death is relentlesse,
+and will not be intreated: witlesse, and knowes not
+what good my gold might do him: senseless, & hath
+no pleasure in the delightfull places / I would offer
+him. In breefe, I thinke he hath with this foole my
+eldest sonne beene brought vp in the vniuersitie, and
+therefore accounts that in riches is no vertue. But
+you my sonne (laying then his hand on the yongers
+head) haue thou another spirit: for without wealth
+life is a death: what is gentry if wealth be wanting,
+but base seruile beggerie? Some comfort yet it
+is vnto me, to see how many gallants sprung of noble
+parents haue croucht to _Gorinius_ to haue sight of
+his gold: O gold, desired golde, admired golde! and
+haue lost their patrimonies to _Gorinius_, because they
+haue not returned by their day that adored creature!
+How many schollers haue written rimes in _Gorinius_
+praise, and receiued (after long capping and reuerence)
+a sixpeny reward in signe of my superficiall
+liberalitie. Breefely my yong _Lucanio_, how I haue
+bin reuerenst thou seest, when honester men I confesse,
+haue beene set farre off: for to be rich is to
+be any thing, wise, honest, worshipfull, or what not?
+I tell thee my sonne: when I came first to this
+Cittie, my whole wardrop was onely a sute of white
+sheepe skins, my wealth an olde Groate, my wooning,
+the wide world. At this instant (O griefe to part
+with it) I haue in readie coyne threescore thousand
+pound, in plate and Jewels, xv. thousand, in bonds
+and specialties as much, in land nine hundred pound
+by the yeere: all which, _Lucanio_ I bequeath to thee,
+onely I reserue for _Roberto_ thy well red brother, an
+olde Groate (being the stocke I first began with)
+wherewith I wish him to buy a groatsworth of wit:
+for he in my life hath reprooued my maner of life,
+and therefore at my death, shall not be contaminated
+with corrupt gaine. Heere by the way Gentlemen
+must I disgresse to shew the reason of _Gorinius_
+present speech: _Roberto_ being / come from the
+Academie, to visit his father, there was a great feast
+prouided: where for table talke, _Roberto_ knowing his
+father and most of the companie to be execrable
+vsurers, inuayed mightily against that abhorred vice,
+insomuch that he vrged teares from diuers of their
+eyes, and compunction in some of their hearts.
+Dinner being past, hee comes to his father, requesting
+him to take no offence at his liberall speech,
+seeing what he had vttered was truth. Angrie, sonne
+(saide he) no by my honesty (& that is somwhat
+I may say to you), but vse it still, and if thou canst
+perswade any of my neighbours from lending vppon
+vsurie, I should haue the more customers: to which
+when _Roberto_ would haue replied, he shut himselfe
+into his studie, and fell to telling ouer his money.
+
+This was _Robertos_ offence: nowe returne we to
+seeke _Gorinius_, who after he had thus vnequally
+distributed his goods and possessions, began to aske
+his sons how they liked his bequestes: either seemed
+agreed, and _Roberto_ vrged him with nothing more,
+then repentance of his sin: Loke to thine owne, said
+he, fond boy, and come my _Lucanio_, let me giue
+thee good counsel before my death: as for you sir,
+your bookes are your counsellors, and therefore to
+them I bequeath you. Ah _Lucanio_, my onely comfort,
+because I hope thou wilt as thy father be a
+gatherer, let me blesse thee before I die. Multiply
+in wealth my sonne by anie meanes thou maist, onely
+flie Alchymie, for therein are more deceites then her
+beggerly Artistes haue wordes; and yet are the
+wretches more talkatiue then women. But my
+meaning is, thou shouldest not stand on conscience
+in causes of profite, but heape treasure vpon treasure,
+for the time of neede: yet seeme / to be deuout,
+else shalt thou be held vile: frequent holy exercises,
+graue companie, and aboue all, vse the conuersation
+of yong Gentlemen, who are so wedded to prodigalitie,
+that once in a quarter necessity knocks at
+their chamber doores: profer them kindnesse to
+relieue their wants, but be sure of good assurance:
+giue faire words till dayes of payment come, and
+then vse my course, spare none: what though they
+tell of conscience (as a number will talke) looke but
+into the dealings of the world, & thou shalt see it
+is but idle words. Seest thou not many perish in
+the streetes, and fall to theft for neede: whom small
+succor would releeue. Then where is conscience, and
+why art thou bound to vse it more then other men?
+Seest thou not daily forgeries, periuries, oppressions,
+rackings of the poore, raysing of rents, inhauncing of
+duties, euen by them that shuld be all conscience,
+if they meant as they speake: but _Lucanio_ if thou
+reade well this booke, (and with that hee reacht him
+Machiauels works at large) thou shalt see what it is
+to be foole-holy, as to make scruple of conscience,
+where profit presents it selfe.
+
+Besides, thou hast an instance by thy threed-bare
+brother heere, who willing to do no wrong, hath lost
+his childs right: for who would wish any thing to
+him, that knowes not how to vse it?
+
+So much _Lucanio_ for conscience: and yet I
+knowe not whats the reason, but somewhat stings mee
+inwardly when I speake of it. I, father, said _Roberto_,
+it is the worme of conscience, that vrges you at the
+last houre to remember your life, that eternall life
+may follow your repentance. Out foole (said this
+miserable father) I feele it now, it was onely a stitch.
+I will forward with my exhortation to _Lucanio_. As I
+saide my / sonne, make spoyle of yong gallants by
+insinuating thy selfe amongst them, and be not
+mooued to think their Auncestors were famous, but
+consider thine were obscure, and that thy father was
+the first Gentleman of the name: _Lucanio_ thou art
+yet a Bachelor, and so keepe thee, till thou meete
+with one that is thy equall, I meane in wealth:
+regard not beautie, it is but a baite to entice thine
+neighbors eie: and the most faire are commonly
+most fond: vse not too many familiars, for few
+prooue friends, and as easie it is to weigh the wind,
+as to diue into the thoughts of worldly glosers. I
+tell thee _Lucanio_, I haue seene foure score winters
+besides the odde seauen, yet saw I neuer him that I
+esteemed as my friend but gold, that desired creature,
+whom I haue deerely loued, and found so firme a
+friend, as nothing, to me hauing it, hath beene wanting.
+No man but may thinke deerely of a true
+friend, and so doe I of it, laying it vnder sure locks,
+and lodging my heart therwith.
+
+But now (Ah my _Lucanio_) now must I leaue it,
+and to thee I leaue it with this lesson, loue none but
+thy selfe, if thou wilt liue esteemed. So turning
+him to his study, where his chiefe treasure lay, he
+loud cried out in the wise mans words, _O mors quam
+amara_, O death how bitter is thy memorie to him
+that hath al pleasures in this life, and so with two or
+three lamentable groanes he left his life: and to
+make short worke, was by _Lucanio_ his sonne enterd,
+as the custome is with some solemnitie: But leauing
+him that hath left the world to him y^t censureth of
+euery worldly man, passe we to his sons: and see
+how his long laied vp store is by _Lucanio_ looked
+into. The youth was of c[=o]dition simple, shamefast,
+and flexible to any counsaile, which _Roberto_ perceiuing,
+and pondering how little was left to him,
+grew into an inward contempt of his fathers vnequall
+legacie, and determinate resolution to worke _Lucanio_
+al possible iniurie: here vpon thus conuerting the
+sweetnesse of his studie to the sharpe thirst of
+reuenge, he (as Enuie is seldome idle) sought out
+fit companions to effect his unbrotherly resolution.
+Neither in such a case is ill companie farre to seeke,
+for the Sea hath scarce so ioperdies, as populous
+Citties haue deceiuing Syrens, whose eies are Adamants,
+whose wares are witchcrafts, whose doores
+leade downe to death. With one of these female
+Serpents _Roberto_ consorts, and they conclude, what
+euer they compassed, equally to share to their
+contentes. This match made, _Lucanio_ was by his
+brother brought to the bush, where he had scarce
+pruned his wings but hee was fast limed, and _Roberto_
+had what he expected. But that we may keepe
+forme, you shall heare how it fortuned.
+
+_Lucanio_ being on a time very pensiue, his brother
+brake with him in these tearmes. I wonder _Lucanio_
+why you are so disconsolate, that want not any thing
+in the world that may worke your content. If
+wealth may delight a man, you are with that sufficiently
+furnisht: if credit may procure a man any
+comfort, your word I knowe well, is as well accepted
+as any mans obligation: in this Citie are faire buildings
+and pleasant gardens, and cause of solace: of
+them I am assured you haue your choyse. Consider
+brother you are yong, then plod not altogether in
+meditating on our fathers precepts: which howsoeuer
+they sauoured of profit, were most vnsauerly to one
+of your yeeres applied. You must not thinke but
+certaine Marchants of this Citie expect your company,
+sundry Gentlemen desire your / familiarity,
+and by conuersing with such, you will be accounted
+a Gentleman: otherwise a pesant, if ye liue thus
+obscurely. Besides, which I had almost forgot, and
+then had all the rest beene nothing, you are a man
+by nature furnished with all exquisite proportion,
+worthy the loue of any courtly Ladie, be she neuer
+so amorous: you haue wealth to maintaine her, of
+women not little longed for: wordes to court her you
+shall not want, for my selfe will be your secretary.
+Brieflie, why stande I to distinguish abilitie in perticularities,
+when in one word it may be sayde, which
+no man can gainsay, _Lucanio_ lacketh nothing to
+delight a wife, nor any thing but a wife to delight
+him? My young maister beeing thus clawde, and
+puft vp with his owne prayse, made no longer delay,
+but hauing on his holyday hose, he tricked himselfe
+vp, and like a fellowe that meant good sooth, hee
+clapped his Brother on the Shoulder, and sayde.
+Faith Brother _Roberto_, and yee say the worde, lets
+go seeke a wife while it is hote, both of vs togither.
+Ile pay well, and I dare turne you loose to say as
+well as anye of them all: well Ile doe my best, said
+_Roberto_, and since ye are so forward, lets goe nowe
+and trie our good fortune.
+
+With this foorth they walke, and _Roberto_ went
+directlie towarde the house where _Lamilia_ (for so
+wee call the Curtezan) kept her Hospital, which was
+in the Suburbes of the Cittie, pleasauntly seated,
+and made more delectable by a pleasaunt Garden,
+wherein it was scituate. No sooner come they
+within ken, but Mistresse _Lamilia_ like a cunning
+angler made readie her chaunge of baytes, that shee
+might effect _Lucanios_ bane: and to begin, shee discouered
+from her window her beauteous inticing
+face, and taking a lute in her h[=a]d that / she might
+the rather allure, she sung this Sonnet with a delicious
+voice.
+
+_Lamilias Song._
+
+        Fie fie on blind fancie,
+        It hinders youths ioy:
+        Faire virgins learne by me,
+        To count loue a toy.
+
+When Loue learned first the A B C of delight,
+And knew no figures, nor conceited phrase:
+He simplie gaue to due desert her right,
+He led not louers in darke winding wayes:
+  He plainly wild to loue, or flatly answered no,
+  But now who lists to proue, shall find it nothing so:
+      Fie fie then on fancie,
+      It hinders youths ioy,
+      Faire virgins learne by me,
+      To count loue a toy.
+For since he learnd to vse the Poets pen,
+He learnd likewise with smoothing words to faine,
+Witching chast eares with trothlesse toungs of men,
+And wrayed faith with falshood and disdaine.
+  He giues a promise now, anon he sweareth no,
+  Who lifteth for to proue, shall find his changings so:
+      Fie fie then on fancie
+      It hinders youth[s] ioy,
+      Faire virgins learn by me,
+      To count loue a toy.
+
+While this painted sepulchre was shadowing her
+corrupting guilt, Hiena-like alluring to destruction,
+_Roberto_ and _Lucanio_ vnder the windowe, kept euen
+pace with / euery stop of her instrument, but especially
+my yong Ruffler (that before time like a bird
+in a cage, had beene prentise for three liues or one
+and twentie yeeres at least, to esteame Auarice his deceased
+father). O twas a world to see how he sometime
+simperd it, striuing to set a countenance on his
+turnd face, that it might seeme of wainscot proofe,
+to beholde her face without blushing: anone he
+would stroake his bow-bent-leg, as though he went
+to shoote loue arrows from his shins: then wipte his
+chin (for his beard was not yet grown) with a gold
+wrought handkercher, whence of purpose he let fall
+a handfull of angels. This golden showre was no
+sooner rained, but _Lamil[i]a_, ceast her song, and
+_Roberto_ (assuring himselfe the foole was caught)
+came to _Lucanio_ (that stoode now as one that had
+starde _Medusa_ in the face) and awaked him from his
+amazement with these words: What, in a traunce
+brother? whence springs these dumps? are yee
+amazed at this obiect? or long ye to become loues
+subiect? Is there not difference betweene this
+delectable life and the imprisonment you haue all
+your life hitherto endured? If the sight and hearing
+of this harmonious beautie work in you effects of
+wonder, what will the possession of so diuine an
+essence, wherein beautie and Art dwell in their
+perfect excellencie. Brother said _Lucanio_, lets vse
+few words, and she be no more then a woman, I
+trust youle helpe mee to her? and if you doe, well,
+I say no more, but I am yours till death vs depart,
+and what is mine shal ye yours, world without end,
+Amen.
+
+_Roberto_ smiling at his simplenesse, helpt him to
+gather vp his dropt golde, and without any more
+circumstance led him to _Lamilias_ house: for of such
+places it may be said as of hell. /
+
+Noctes atque dies patet atri ianua ditis.
+
+So their doores are euer open to entice youth
+to destruction. They were no sooner entred, but
+_Lamilia_ her selfe, like a second _Helen_, court-like
+begins to salute _Roberto_, yet did her wandring eie
+glance often at _Lucanio_: the effect of her entertainment
+consisted in these tearmes, that to her simple
+house Signor _Roberto_ was welcome, and his brother
+the better welcome for your sake: albeit his good
+report confirmed by his present demeaner, were of
+it selfe enough to giue him deserued entertainement,
+in any place how honourable soeuer: mutuall thanks
+returned, they lead this prodigal childe into a Parlor,
+garnished with goodly portratures of amiable personages:
+neere which, an excellent consert of musicke
+began at their entrance to play. _Lamilia_ seeing
+_Lucanio_ shamefast, tooke him by the hand, and
+tenderly wringing him, vsed these words: Beleeue
+me Gentlemen, I am verie sorie that our rude enter[tain]ment
+is such, as no way may worke your
+content: for this I haue noted since your first entering,
+that your countenance hath beene heauie, and
+the face being the glasse of the heart, assures me the
+same is not quiet: would ye wish any thing heere
+that might content you, say but the word, and assure
+ye of present deliuerance to effect your full delight.
+_Lucanio_ being so farre in loue, as he perswaded
+himselfe without her grant hee could not liue, had a
+good meaning to vtter his minde, but wanting fit
+wordes, hee stoode like a trewant that lackt a
+prompter, or a plaier that being out of his part at
+his first entrance is faine to haue the booke to
+speake what he should performe. Which _Roberto_
+perceiuing replied thus in his behalfe: Madame, the
+Sunnes brightnesse daisleth the beholders eies, the
+maiestie of Gods, / amazed humane men. _Tullie_
+Prince of Orators, once fainted though his cause
+were good, and he that tamed monsters, stoode
+amated at beauties ornaments: Then blame not this
+yoong man though hee replied not, for he is blinded
+with the beautie of your sunne-darkening eies, made
+mute with the celestiall organe of your voyce, and
+feare of that rich ambush of amber colored darts,
+whose pointes are leuelde against his heart. Well
+Signor _Roberto_ saide shee, how euer you interpret
+their sharpe leuell, be sure they are not bent to doe
+him hurt, and but that modestie blindes vs poore
+Maidens from vttering the inwarde sorrowe of our
+mindes, perchaunce the cause of greefe is ours, how
+euer men do colour, for as I am a virgin I protest
+(and therewithall shee tainted her cheekes with a
+vermilion blush) I neuer sawe Gentleman in my life
+in my eie so gratious as is _Lucanio_, onely that is my
+greefe, that either I am despised for that he scornes
+to speake, or else (which is my greater sorrow) I
+feare he cannot speake. Not speake Gentlewoman
+quoth _Lucanio?_ that were a ieast indeede: yes, I
+thanke God I am sounde of winde and lim, onely
+my heart is not as it was woont: but and you be as
+good as your word, that will soone be well, and so
+crauing ye of more acquaintance, in token of my
+plaine meaning receiue this diamond, which my olde
+father loued deerely: and with that deliuered her a
+Ring, wherein was apointed a Diamond of wonderfull
+worth. Which shee accepting with a lowe conge,
+returned him a silke Riband for a fauour, tyed with
+a truelouers knot, which he fastened vnder a faire
+Jewell on his Beuer felt.
+
+After this _Diomedis & Glauci permutatio_, my
+young master / waxed cranke, and the musicke continuing,
+was very forward in dauncing, to shew his
+cunning: and so desiring them to play on a hornepipe,
+laid on the pauement lustily with his leaden
+heeles, coruetting like a steede of _Signor Roccoes_
+teaching, and wanted nothing but bels, to bee a
+hobbyhorse in a morrice. Yet was he soothed in
+his folly, and what euer he did, _Lamilia_ counted
+excellent: her praise made him proude, insomuch
+that if he had not beene intreated, hee would rather
+haue died in his daunce, then left off to shew his
+mistresse delight. At last reasonably perswaded,
+seeing the table furnished, he was contented to cease,
+and settle himselfe to his victuals, on which (hauing
+before labored) he fed lustily, especially of a Woodcocke
+pie, wherewith _Lamilia_ his caruer, plentifully
+plied him. Full dishes hauing furnisht emptie
+stomaches, and _Lucanio_ thereby got leisure to talke,
+falles to discourse of his wealth, his lands, his bonds,
+his abilitie, and how himselfe with all he had, was at
+Madame _Lamilias_ disposing: desiring her afore his
+brother, to tell him simply what shee meant. _Lamilia_
+replied: My sweet _Lucanio_, how I esteeme of thee
+mine eies doe witnesse, that like handmaides, haue
+attended thy beautious face, euer since I first beheld
+thee: yet seeing loue that lasteth gathereth by
+degrees his liking, let this for that suffice: if I finde
+thee firme, _Lamilia_ will be faithful: if fleeting, she
+must of necessitie be infortunate that hauing neuer
+seene any whome before shee could affect, shee
+shoulde bee of him iniuriously forsaken. Nay saide
+_Lucanio_, I dare say my brother here will giue his
+word. For that I accept your own said _Lamilia_, for
+with me your credit is better then your brothers.
+_Roberto_ brake off their amorous prattle with these
+speeches. Sith / either of you are of other so fond
+at the first sight, I doubt not but time will make
+your loue more firme. Yet madame _Lamilia_ although
+my brother and you be thus forward, some
+crosse chaunce may come: for _Multa cadunt inter
+calicem supremaq. labra_. And for a warning to teach
+you both wit, Ile tell you an olde wiues tale.
+
+Before ye go on with your tale (quoth mistresse
+_Lamilia_) let me giue ye a caueat by the way, which
+shall be figured in a Fable.
+
+
+_Lamiliaes Tale._
+
+The Foxe on a time came to visite the Gray,
+partly for kindered, cheefely for craft: and finding
+the hole emptie of all other companie, sauing onely
+one Badger; enquiring the cause of his solitarinesse,
+he described the sodaine death of his dam and sire,
+with the rest of his consorts. The Foxe made a
+Friday face, counterfeiting sorrow: but concluding
+that deaths shake was vneuitable, perswaded him
+to seeke some fit mate wherwith to match. The
+Badger soone agreed: so forth they went, and in
+their way met with a wanton ewe straggling from the
+fold: the Foxe bad the Badger play the tall stripling,
+and strout on his tiptoes: for (quoth he) this ewe is
+lady of al these lands, and her brother cheefe bel-weather
+of sundrie flocks. To be short, by the
+Foxes permission there would be a perpetuall league
+betweene her harmelesse kindred and al other deuouring
+beasts, for that the Badger was to them all
+allied: seduced, shee yeelded: and the Foxe conducted
+them to the Badgers / habitation, where drawing
+her aside vnder color of exhortation, [he] pulde
+out her throate to satisfie his greedie thurst. Here
+I should note, a yoong whelpe that viewed their
+walke, infourmed the shepheard of what hapned.
+They followed, and trained the Foxe and Badger to
+the hole: the Foxe afore had craftily conuaied himself
+away: the shepheard found the Badger rauing
+for the ewes murther: his lamentation being helde
+for counterfet, was by the shepheards dog wearied.
+The Foxe escaped: the ewe was spoiled: and euer
+since, betweene the Badgers and the dogges, hath
+continued a mortall enmitie: And now be aduised
+_Roberto_ (quoth she), goe forward with your tale, seeke
+not by slie insinuation to turne our mirth to sorrow.
+Go too _Lamilia_ (quoth hee), you feare what I meane
+not, but how euer ye take it, Ile forward with my tale.
+
+
+_Robertoes Tale._
+
+In the North parts there dwelt an old Squier, that
+had a yong daughter his heire; who had (as I know
+Madame _Lamilia_ you haue had) many youthfull
+Gentlemen that long time sued to obtaine her loue.
+But she knowing her owne perfection (as women are
+by nature proude) woulde not to any of them
+vouchsafe fauour: insomuch that they perceiuing
+her relentlesse, shewed themselues not altogether
+witlesse, but left her to her fortune, when they founde
+her frowardnesse. At last it fortuned among other
+strangers, a Farmers sonne visited her fathers house:
+on whom at the first sight shee was enamored, he
+likewise on hir. Tokens of loue past betweene
+them, either acquainted others parents of their choise,
+and they kindly gaue their consent. Short tale to
+make, married they were, and great solemnitie was
+at the wedding feast. A yong Gentleman, that had
+beene long a suter to her, vexing that the sonne of
+a farmer should be so preferred, cast in his minde by
+what meanes (to marre their merriment) he might
+steale away the Bride. Hereupon he confers with
+an old beldam, called mother _Gunby_, dwelling thereby,
+whose counsell hauing taken, he fell to his practise,
+and proceeded thus. In the after noone, when
+dauncers were very busie, he takes the Bride by the
+hand, and after a turne or two, tels her in her eare,
+he had a secret to impart vnto her, appointing her
+in any wise, in the euening to find a time to confer
+with him: she promised she would and so they
+parted. Then goes he to the bridegroome, and with
+protestations of entire affect, protests that the great
+sorrow hee takes at that which he must vtter, whereon
+depended his especial credit, if it were knowne the
+matter by him should be discouered. After the
+bridegroomes promise of secrecie, the gentleman tels
+him, that a friend of his receiued that morning from
+y^e bride a letter, wherein she willed him with some
+sixteene horse to awaite her comming at a Parke
+side, for that she detested him in her heart as a
+base country hinde, with whom her father compelled
+her to marrie. The bridegroome almost out of his
+wits, began to bite his lippe. Nay, saith the Gentleman,
+if you will by me be aduised, you shall saue
+her credit, win her by kindnes, and yet preuent her
+wanton complot. As how, said the Bridegroome?
+Mary, thus, said the gentleman: In the euening (for
+till the guests be gone she intends not to gad) get
+you / on horsebacke, and seeme to be of the companie
+that attends her comming: I am appointed to
+bring her from the house to the Parke, and from
+thence fetch a winding compasse of a mile about,
+but to turne vnto olde mother _Gunbyes_ house, where
+her louer my friend abides: when she alights, I wil
+conduct her to a chamber far from his lodging, but
+when the lights are out, and she expects her adulterous
+copesmate, your selfe (as reason is) shall proue her
+bedfellow, where priuately you may reprooue her,
+and in the morning earely returne home without
+trouble. As for the gentleman my frend, I will
+excuse her absence to him, by saying, shee mockt
+thee with her maide in stead of her selfe, whom when
+I knew at her lighting, I disdained to bring her vnto
+his presence. The Bridegroome gaue his hand it
+should be so.
+
+Now by the way we must vnderstand this mother
+_Gunby_ had a daughter, who all that day sate heauily
+at home with a willow garland, for that the bridegroome
+(if he had dealt faithfully) should haue
+wedded her before any other. But men (_Lamilia_)
+are vnconstant, mony now a daies makes the match,
+or else the match is marde.
+
+But to the matter: the bride groome and the
+Gentleman thus agreed: he tooke his time, conferred
+with the bride, perswaded her that her husband
+(notwithstanding his faire shew at the marriage) had
+sworne to his old sweete heart, their neighbour
+_Gunbyes_ daughter, to be that night her bedfellow:
+and if she would bring her father, his father, and
+other friends to the house at midnight, they should
+finde it so.
+
+At this the yong gentlewoman inwardly vext to
+be by a peasant so abused, promised if she sawe
+likelyhood of / his slipping away, that then she would
+doe according as he directed.
+
+All this thus sorting, the old womans daughter
+was trickly attired, ready to furnish this pageant, for
+her old mother promised all things necessarie.
+
+Well, Supper past, dauncing ended, all the guests
+would home, and the Bridgroome pretending to
+bring some friend of his home, got his horse, and to
+the Parke side he rode, and stayed with the horsemen
+that attended the Gentleman.
+
+Anone came _Marian_ like mistris Bride, and
+mounted behind the gentleman, away they post,
+fetch their compasse, & at last alight at an olde wiues
+house, where sodenly she is conuaied to her chamber,
+& the bridegroome sent to keepe her company:
+where he had scarce deuised how to begin his exhortation,
+but the father of his bride knockt at the
+chamber doore. At which being somewhat amazed,
+yet thinking to turne it to a ieast, sith his wife (as he
+thought) was in bed with him, hee opened the doore,
+saying: Father, you are heartily welcome, I wonder
+how you found vs out heere; this deuise to remooue
+our selues, was with my wiues consent, that we might
+rest quietly without the Maids and Batchelers disturbing
+vs. But where is your wife said y^e gentleman?
+why heere in bed said he. I thought (quoth
+the other) my daughter had beene your wife, for sure
+I am to-day shee was giuen you in marriage. You
+are merrily disposed said the Bridegroome, what,
+thinke you I haue another wife? I thinke but as
+you speake, quoth the gentleman, for my daughter is
+below, & you say your wife is in the bed. Below
+(said he) you are a merie man, and with that casting
+on a night-gowne, he went downe, where when he
+saw his wife, the gentleman his father, and a number
+/ of his friends assembled, he was so confounded,
+that how to behaue himselfe he knew not; onely hee
+cried out that he was deceiued. At this the olde
+woman arises, and making her selfe ignorant of al
+the whole matter, enquires the cause of that sodaine
+tumult. When she was tolde the new bridegroome was
+found in bed with her daughter, she exclaimed against
+so great an iniurie. _Marian_ was called in quorum:
+she iustified it was by his allurement: he being condemned
+by al their consents, was iudged vnworthy
+to haue the gentlewoman vnto his wife, & compelled
+(for escaping of punishment) to marrie _Marian_: and
+the yong Gentleman (for his care in discouering the
+farmers sonnes leudnes) was recompenst with the
+Gentlewomans euer during loue.
+
+Quoth _Lamilia_, and what of this? Nay nothing
+saide _Roberto_, but that I haue told you the effects
+of sodaine loue: yet the best is, my brother is a
+maidenly batcheler, and for your selfe, you haue
+beene troubled with many suters. The fewer the
+better, said _Lucanio_. But brother, I con you little
+thanke for this tale: hereafter I pray you vse other
+table talke. Lets then end talk, quoth _Lamilia_, and
+you (signor _Lucanio_) and I will goe to the Chesse.
+To Chesse, said he, what meane you by that? It is
+a game, said she, that the first danger is but a checke,
+the worst, the giuing of a mate. Wel, said _Roberto_,
+that game ye haue beene at alreadie then, for you
+checkt him first with your beauty, & gaue your self
+for mate to him by your bountie. That is wel taken
+brother, said _Lucanio_, so haue we past our game at
+Chesse. Wil ye play at tables then, said she? I
+cannot, quoth he, for I can goe no furder with my
+game, if I be once taken. Will ye play then at cards?
+I, said he, if it be at one and thirtie. That fooles
+game, said she? Weele all to hazard, said _Roberto_,
+and / brother you shall make one for an houre or
+two: contented quoth he. So to dice they went,
+and fortune so fauoured _Lucanio_, that while they
+continued square play, he was no looser. Anone
+cosonage came about, and his Angels being double
+winged flew cleane from before him. _Lamilia_ being
+the winner, prepared a banquet; which finished,
+_Roberto_ aduised his brother to depart home, and to
+furnish himselfe with more crowns, least he were
+outcrakt with new commers.
+
+_Lucanio_ loath to be outcountenanst, followed his
+aduise, desiring to attend his returne, which he before
+had determined vnrequested: for as soone as his
+brothers backe was turned, _Roberto_ begins to reckon
+with _Lamilia_, to bee a sharer as well in the mony
+deceitfully woone, as in the Diamond so wilfully
+giuen. But she, _secundum mores meretricis_, iested
+thus with the scholler. Why _Roberto_, are you so
+well read, and yet shew your selfe so shallow witted,
+to deeme women so weake of conceit, that they
+see not into mens demerites? Suppose (to make
+you my stale to catch the woodcocke, your brother)
+that my tongue ouerrunning mine intent, I spake
+of liberal rewarde; but what I promised, there is
+the point; at least what I part with, I will be well
+aduised. It may be you wil thus reason: Had not
+_Roberto_ trained _Lucanio_ with _Lamilias_ lure, _Lucanio_
+had not now beene _Lamilias_ prey: therfore sith by
+_Roberto_ she possesseth her prize, _Roberto_ merites an
+equall part. Monstrous absurd if so you reason; as
+wel you may reason thus: _Lamilias_ dog hath kilde
+her a deere, therefore his mistris must make him a
+pastie. No poore pennilesse Poet, thou art beguilde
+in me, and yet I wonder how thou couldest, thou
+hast beene so often beguilde. But it fareth with
+licentious men, as with the chased bore in the /
+streame, who being greatly refreshed with swimming,
+neuer feeleth any smart vntill he perish recurelesly
+wounded with his owne weapons. Reasonlesse
+_Roberto_, that hauing but a brokers place, asked a
+lenders rewarde. Faithlesse _Roberto_, that hast attempted
+to betray thy brother, irreligiously forsaken
+thy wife, deseruedly beene in thy fathers eie an
+abiect: thinkest thou _Lamilia_ so loose, to consort
+with one so lewd? No hypocrite, the sweete Gentleman
+thy brother, I will till death loue, and thee
+while I liue loath. This share _Lamilia_ giues thee,
+other gettest thou none.
+
+As _Roberto_ would haue replied, _Lucanio_ approached:
+to whom _Lamilia_ discourst the whole
+deceit of his brother, & neuer rested intimating
+malitious arguments, till _Lucanio_ vtterly refused
+_Roberto_ for his brother, and for euer forbad him of
+his house. And when he wold haue yeelded reasons,
+and formed excuse, _Lucanios_ impatience (vrged by
+her importunate malice) forbad all reasoning with
+them that was reasonlesse, and so giuing him Jacke
+Drums entertainment, shut him out of doores: whom
+we will follow, and leaue _Lucanio_ to the mercie of
+_Lamilia_. _Roberto_ in an extreame extasie rent his
+haire, curst his destinie, blamed his trecherie, but
+most of all exclaimed against _Lamilia_: and in her
+against all enticing Curtizans in these tearmes.
+
+    What meant the Poets to inuectiue verse,
+    To sing Medeas shame, and Scillas pride,
+    Calipsoes charmes, by which so many dide?
+    Onely for this, their vices they rehearse,
+    That curious wits which in this world conuerse,
+    May shun the dangers and enticing shoes,
+    Of such false Syrens, those home-breeding foes,
+    That from their eies their venim do disperse. /
+    So soone kils not the Basiliske with sight,
+    The Vipers tooth is not so venomous,
+    The Adders tung not halfe so dangerous,
+    As they that beare the shadow of delight,
+  Who chaine blinde youths in tramels of their haire,
+  Till wast bring woe, and sorrow hast despaire.
+
+With this he laide his head on his hand, and leant
+his elbow on the ground sighing out sadly,
+
+Heu patior telis vulnera facta meis.
+
+On the other side of the hedge sate one that
+heard his sorrow, who getting ouer, came towardes
+him, and brake off his passion. When he approached,
+he saluted _Roberto_ in this sort.
+
+Gentleman, quoth hee (for so you seeme), I haue
+by chaunce heard you discourse some part of your
+greefe; which appeareth to be more then you will
+discouer, or I can conceipt. But if you vouchsafe
+such simple comfort as my abilitie will yeeld, assure
+your selfe that I will endeuour to doe the best, that
+either may procure your profit, or bring you pleasure:
+the rather, for that I suppose you are a scholler, and
+pittie it is men of learning should liue in lacke.
+
+_Roberto_ wondring to heare such good words, for
+that this iron age affoordes few that esteeme of
+vertue, returned him thankfull gratulations, and
+(vrged by necessitie) vttered his present griefe, beseeching
+his aduise how he might be imployed. Why,
+easily, quoth hee, and greatly to your benefit: for
+men of my profession get by schollers their whole
+liuing. What is your profession, sayd _Roberto_?
+Truely, sir, said he, I am a player. A Player, quoth
+_Roberto_, I tooke you rather for a gentleman of great
+liuing, for if by outward habit men shuld be censured,
+I tell you you would be taken for a substantiall
+/ man. So am I, where I dwell (quoth the player),
+reputed able at my proper cost to build a Windmill.
+What though the worlde once went hard with mee,
+when I was faine to carrie my playing Fardle a
+footebacke; _Tempora mutantur_, I know you know
+the meaning of it better then I, but I thus conster
+it; it is otherwise now; for my very share in playing
+apparrell will not be solde for two hundred pounds.
+Truely (said _Roberto_) it is strange, that you should
+so prosper in that vaine practise, for that it seemes to
+me your voyce is nothing gracious. Nay then, said
+the player, I mislike your iudgement: why, I am as
+famous for Delphrigus, and the king of Fairies, as
+euer was any of my time. The twelue labors of
+_Hercules_ haue I terribly thundred on the stage, and
+placed three scenes of the deuill on the highway to
+heauen. Haue ye so (said _Roberto_)? then I pray
+you pardon me. Nay, more (quoth the player), I can
+serue to make a prettie speech, for I was a countrie
+Author; passing at a morall, for it was I that pende
+the Moral of mans wit, the Dialogue of Diues, and
+for seauen yeeres space was absolute interpreter of the
+puppets. But now my Almanacke is out of date.
+
+  The people make no estimation,
+  Of Morrals teaching education.
+
+Was not this prettie for a plaine rime extempore?
+if ye will ye shall haue more. Nay it is enough,
+said _Roberto_, but how meane you to vse mee? Why
+sir, in making playes, said the other, for which you
+shall be well paied, if you will take the paines.
+
+_Roberto_ perceiuing no remedie, thought best to
+respect of his present necessity, to trie his wit, &
+went with him willingly: who lodged him at the
+townes end in a house of retaile, where what happened
+our Poet you shall / heereafter heare. There,
+by conuersing with bad company, he grew _A malo in
+peius_, falling from one vice to another, and so hauing
+found a vaine to finger crownes he grew cranker
+then _Lucanio_, who by this time began to droope,
+being thus dealt withall by _Lamilia_. She hauing bewitched
+him with her enticing wiles, caused him to
+consume, in lesse then two yeares, that infinite
+treasure gathered by his father with so many a poore
+mans curse. His lands sold, his iewels pawnd, his
+money wasted, he was casseerd by _Lamilia_ that had
+coosened him of all. Then walked he like one of
+duke _Humfreys_ Squires, in a threedbare cloake, his
+hose drawne out with his heeles, his shooes vnseamed,
+lest his feete should sweate with heate: now (as
+witlesse as he was) hee remembred his fathers words,
+his kindnes to his brother, his carelesnesse of himselfe.
+In this sorrow hee sate downe on pennilesse
+bench; where, when _Opus_ and _Vsus_ told him by the
+chimes in his stomacke it was time to fall vnto
+meate, he was faine with the _Camelion_ to feed vpon
+the aire, & make patience his best repast.
+
+While he was at his feast, _Lamilia_ came flaunting
+by, garnished with the iewels whereof she beguiled
+him: which sight serued to close his stomacke after
+his cold cheere. _Roberto_ hearing of his brothers
+beggerie, albeit he had little remorse of his miserable
+state, yet did he seeke him out, to vse him as a propertie,
+whereby _Lucanio_ was somewhat prouided for.
+But being of simple nature, hee serued but for a
+blocke to whet _Robertoes_ wit on; which the poore
+foole perceiuing, he forsooke all other hopes of life,
+and fell to be a notorious Pandar: in which detested
+course hee continued till death. But _Roberto_, now
+famozed for an Arch-plaimaking-poet, his purse like
+the sea somtime sweld, anon like the same sea /
+fell to a low ebbe; yet seldom he wanted, his labors
+were so well esteemed. Marry this rule he kept,
+what euer he fingerd aforehand was the certaine
+meanes to vnbinde a bargaine, and being asked why
+he so sleightly dealt with them that did him good?
+It becomes me, sa[i]th hee, to be contrarie to the
+worlde, for commonly when vulgar men receiue
+earnest, they doe performe, when I am paid any thing
+aforehand I breake my promise. He had shift of
+lodgings, where in euery place his Hostesse writ vp
+the wofull remembrance of him, his laundresse, and
+his boy; for they were euer his in houshold, beside
+retainers in sundry other places. His companie were
+lightly the lewdest persons in the land, apt for pilferie,
+periurie, forgerie, or any villanie. Of these hee knew
+the casts to cog at Cards, coosin at Dice: by these
+he learned the legerdemaines of nips, foysters, conni-catchers,
+crosbyters, lifts, high Lawyers, and all the
+rabble of that vncleane generation of vipers: and pithily
+could he paint out their whole courses of craft: So
+cunning he was in all crafts, as nothing rested in him
+almost but craftinesse. How often the Gentlewoman
+his wife laboured vainely to recall him, is lamentable
+to note: but as one giuen ouer to all lewdnes,
+he communicated her sorrowful lines among his loose
+truls, that iested at her bootelesse laments. If he could
+any way get credite on scores, he would then brag
+his creditors carried stones, comparing euerie round
+circle to a groning O, procured by a painful burden.
+The shamefull ende of sundry his consorts, deseruedly
+punished for their amisse, wrought no compunction
+in his heart: of which one, brother to a Brothell
+he kept, was trust vnder a tree as round as a Ball.
+
+To some of his swearing companions thus it happened /:
+A crue of them sitting in a Tauerne carowsing,
+it fortuned an honest Gentleman, and his friend,
+to enter their roome: some of them being acquainted
+with him, in their domineering drunken vaine, would
+haue no nay, but downe he must needes sitte with
+them; beeing placed, no remedie there was, but he
+must needes keep euen compasse with their vnseemely
+carrowsing. Which he refusing, they fell from high
+wordes to sound strokes, so that with much adoe the
+Gentleman saued his owne, and shifted from their
+company. Being gone, one of these tiplers forsooth
+lackt a gold Ring, the other sware they see the
+Gentleman take it from his hande. Upon this
+the Gentleman was indited before a Judge: these
+honest men are deposed: whose wisedome weighing
+the time of the braule, gaue light to the Iury what
+power wine-washing poyson had: they, according
+vnto conscience, found the Gentleman not guiltie,
+and God released by that verdict the innocent.
+
+With his accusers thus it fared: one of them for
+murther was worthily executed: the other neuer since
+prospered: the third, sitting not long after upon a
+lustie horse, the beast suddenly died vnder him: God
+amend the man.
+
+_Roberto_ euery day acquainted with these examples,
+was notwithstanding nothing bettered, but rather
+hardened in wickednesse. At last was that place
+iustified, God warneth men by dreams and visions in
+the night, and by knowne examples in the day, but if
+he returne not, hee comes vpon him with iudgement
+that shall bee felt. For now when the number of
+deceites caused _Roberto_ bee hatefull almost to all
+men, his immeasurable drinking had made him the
+perfect Image of the dropsie, and the loathsome
+scourge of Lust, tyrannized in his loues: / liuing in
+extreame pouerty, and hauing nothing to pay but
+chalke, which now his Host accepted not for currant,
+this miserable man lay comfortlessely languishing,
+hauing but one groat left (the iust proporti[=o] of his
+fathers Legacie) which looking on, he cried: O now
+it is too late, too late to buy witte with thee: and
+therefore will I see if I can sell to carelesse youth
+what I negligently forgot to buy.
+
+Heere (Gentlemen) breake I off _Robertos_ speech;
+whose life in most parts agreeing with mine, found
+one selfe punishment as I haue doone. Heereafter
+suppose me the said _Roberto_, and I will goe on with
+that hee promised: _Greene_ will send you now his
+groatsworth of wit, that neuer shewed a mitesworth in
+his life: and though no man now be by to doe me
+good, yet, ere I die, I will by my repentance indeuor
+to doe all men good.
+
+  Deceiuing world, that with alluring toyes,
+  Hast made my life the subiect of thy scorne:
+  And scornest now to lend thy fading ioyes,
+  To lengthen my life, whom friends haue left forlorne.
+  How well are they that die ere they be borne,
+    And neuer see thy sleights, which few men shun,
+    Till vnawares they helplesse are vndon.
+
+  Oft haue I sung of loue, and of his fire,
+  But now I finde that Poet was aduizde;
+  Which made full feasts increasers of desire,
+  And prooues weake loue was with the poore despizde.
+  For when the life with foode is not suffizde,
+    What thoughts of loue, what motion of delight;
+    What pleasance can proceede from such a wight?
+
+  Witnesse my want the murderer of my wit,
+  My rauisht sense of woonted furie reft;
+  Wants such conceit, as should in Poims sit,
+  Set downe the sorrow wherein I am left:
+  But therefore haue high heauens their gifts bereft:
+    Because so long they lent them me to vse,
+    And I so long their bountie did abuse.
+
+  O that a yeare were graunted me to liue,
+  And for that yeare my former wits restorde:
+  What rules of life, what counsell would I giue?
+  How should my sinne with sorrow then deplore?
+  But I must die of euery man abhorde.
+    Time loosely spent will not againe be woonne,
+    My time is loosely spent, and I vndone.
+
+_O horrenda fames_, how terrible are thy assaultes?
+but _Vermis conscientiæ_, more wounding are thy stings.
+Ah Gentlemen, that liue to reade my broken and
+confused lines, looke not I should (as I was woont)
+delight you with vain fantasies, but gather my follies
+altogether, and as you would deale with so many
+parricides, cast them into the fire: call them _Telegones_,
+for now they kill their father, and euerie lewd
+line in them written is a deep piercing wound to my
+heart; euery idle houre spent by any in reading
+them, brings a million of sorrowes to my soule. O
+that the teares of a miserable man (for neuer any
+man was yet more miserable) might wash their
+memorie out with my death; and that those works
+with me together might be interd. But sith they
+cannot, let this my last worke witnes against them
+with me, how I detest them. Blacke is the remembrance
+of my blacke works, blacker then night, blacker
+/ then death, blacker then hell.
+
+Learne wit by my repentance (Gentlemen), and
+let these fewe rules following be regarded in your
+liues.
+
+1. First in all your actions set God before your
+eies; for the feare of the Lord is the beginning of
+wisedome: Let his word be a lanterne to your feete,
+and a light vnto your paths, then shall you stande as
+firme rocks, and not be mocked.
+
+2. Beware of looking backe: for God will not be
+mocked; of him that hath receiued much, much shall
+be demanded.
+
+3. If thou be single, and canst abstaine, turne
+thy eies from vanitie, for there is a kinde of women
+bearing the faces of Angels, but the hearts of Deuils,
+able to intrap the elect if it were possible.
+
+If thou be m[a]rried, forsake not the wife of thy
+youth, to follow strange flesh; for whoremongers
+and adulterers the Lord will iudge. The doore of a
+Harlot leadeth downe to death, and in her lips there
+dwels destruction; her face is decked with odors,
+but shee bringeth a man to a morsell of bread and
+nakednesse: of which myselfe am instance.
+
+5. If thou be left rich, remember those that want,
+and so deale, that by thy wilfulnes thy self want not:
+Let not Tauerners and Victuallers be thy Executors;
+for they will bring thee to a dishonorable graue.
+
+6. Oppresse no man, for the crie of the wronged
+ascendeth to the eares of the Lord; neither delight
+to encrease by Usurie, lest thou loose thy habitation
+in the euerlasting Tabernacle.
+
+7. Beware of building thy house to thy neighbours
+hurt; for the stones will crie to the timber,
+We were laide together in bloud: and those that so
+erect houses, calling / them by their names, shall lie
+in the graue like sheepe, and death shall gnaw vpon
+their soules.
+
+8. If thou be poore, be also patient, and striue
+not to grow rich by indirect meanes; for goods so
+gotten shall vanish away like smoke.
+
+9. If thou be a father, maister, or teacher, ioyne
+good examples with good counsaile; else little auaile
+precepts, where life is different.
+
+10. If thou be a sonne or seruant, despise not
+reproofe; for though correction be bitter at the first,
+it bringeth pleasure in the end.
+
+Had I regarded the first of these rules, or beene
+obedient at the last: I had not now, at my last ende,
+beene left thus desolate. But now, though to my
+selfe I giue _Consilium post facta_; yet to others they
+may serue for timely precepts. And therefore (while
+life giues leaue) will send warning to my olde consorts,
+which haue liued as loosely as myselfe, albeit
+weakenesse will scarce suffer me to write, yet to my
+fellowe Schollers about this Cittie, will I direct these
+few insuing lines.
+
+_To those Gentlemen his Quondam acquaintance,
+that spend their wits in making Plaies, R. G.
+wisheth a better exercise, and wisdome
+to preuent his extremities._
+
+If wofull experience may mooue you (Gentlemen)
+to beware, or vnheard of wretchednes intreate you
+to take heed, I doubt not but you will looke
+backe with sorrow on your time past, and endeuour
+with repentance to spend that which is to come.
+Wonder not (for with thee wil I first begin), thou
+famous gracer of Tragedians, that _Greene_, who hath
+said with thee like the foole / in his heart, There is
+no God, should now giue glorie vnto his greatnesse:
+for penitrating is his power, his hand lies heauie
+vpon me, he hath spoken vnto me with a voice of
+thunder, and I haue felt he is a God that can punish
+enimies. Why should thy excellent wit, his gift, be
+so blinded, that thou shouldst giue no glory to the
+giuer? Is it pestilent Machiuilian pollicie that thou
+hast studied? O punish follie! What are his rules
+but meere confused mockeries, able to extirpate in
+small time the generation of mankinde. For if _Sic
+volo, sic iubeo_, hold in those that are able to command:
+and if it be lawfull _Fas & nefas_ to doe any
+thing that is beneficiall, onely Tyrants should possesse
+the earth, and they striuing to exceede in tyranny,
+should each to other bee a slaughter man; till the
+mightiest outliuing all, one stroke were left for Death,
+that in one age man's life should ende. The brother
+of this Diabolicall Atheisme is dead, and in his life
+had neuer the felicitie he aimed at: but as he began
+in craft, liued in feare and ended in despaire.
+_Quam inscrutabilia sunt Dei iudicia?_ This murderer
+of many brethren had his conscience seared like
+_Caine_: this betrayer of him that gaue his life for
+him, inherited the portion of _Iudas_: this Apostata
+perished as ill as _Iulian_: and wilt thou my friend
+be his Disciple? Looke vnto me, by him perswaded
+to that libertie, and thou shalt finde it an infernall
+bondage. I knowe the least of my demerits merit
+this miserable death, but wilfull striuing against
+knowne truth, exceedeth al the terrors of my soule.
+Defer not (with me) till this last point of extremitie;
+for little knowest thou how in the end thou shalt be
+visited.
+
+With thee I ioyne young _Iuuenall_, that byting
+Satyrist, that lastlie with mee together writ a
+Comedie. Sweete / boy, might I aduise thee, be
+aduised, and get not many enemies by bitter words:
+inueigh against vaine men, for thou canst do it, no
+man better, no man so wel: thou hast a libertie to
+reprooue all, and none more; for one being spoken
+to, all are offended, none being blamed no man is
+iniured. Stop shallow water still running, it will
+rage, tread on a worme and it will turne: then blame
+not schollers vexed with sharpe lines, if they reproue
+thy too much libertie of reproofe.
+
+And thou no lesse deseruing then the other two,
+in some things rarer, in nothing inferiour; driuen
+(as my selfe) to extreame shifts, a little haue I to say
+to thee: and were it not an idolatrous oth, I would
+sweare by sweet _S. George_, thou art vnworthie better
+hap, sith thou dependest on so meane a stay. Base
+minded men al three of you, if by my miserie ye be
+not warned: for vnto none of you (like me) sought
+those burres to cleaue: those Puppits (I meane)
+that speake from our mouths, those Anticks garnisht
+in our colours. Is it not strange that I, to whom
+they al haue beene beholding: is it not like that
+you, to whome they all haue beene beholding, shall
+(were ye in that case that I am now) be both at
+once of them forsaken? Yes, trust them not: for
+there is an vpstart Crow, beautified with our feathers,
+that with his _Tygers heart wrapt in a Players hide_,
+supposes he is as well able to bumbast out a blanke
+verse as the best of you: and being an absolute
+_Iohannes fac totum_, is in his owne conceit the onely
+Shake-scene in a countrie. O that I might intreate
+your rare wits to be imployed in more profitable
+courses: & let those Apes imitate your past excellence,
+and neuer more acquaint them with your
+admired inuentions. I know the best husband of
+you all will neuer proue an Usurer, and the kindest
+of them / all will neuer prooue a kinde nurse: yet
+whilst you may, seeke you better Maisters; for it is
+pittie men of such rare wits, should be subiect to the
+pleasures of such rude groomes.
+
+In this I might insert two more, that both haue
+writ against these buckram Gentlemen: but let
+their owne works serue to witnesse against their owne
+wickednesse, if they perseuer to mainteine any more
+such peasants. For other new commers, I leaue
+them to the mercie of these painted monsters, who
+(I doubt not) will driue the best minded to despise
+them: for the rest, it skils not though they make a
+ieast at them.
+
+But now returne I againe to you [t]hree, knowing
+my miserie is to you no news: and let me heartily
+intreate you to bee warned by my harmes. Delight
+not (as I haue done) in irreligious oaths; for from
+the blasphemers house a curse shall not depart.
+Despise drunkennes, which wasteth the wit, and
+maketh men all equal vnto beasts. Flie lust, as the
+deathsman of the soule, and defile not the Temple
+of the holy ghost. Abhorre those Epicures, whose
+loose life hath made religion lothsome to your eares:
+and when they sooth you with tearmes of Mastership,
+remember _Robert Greene_, whome they haue so often
+flattered, perishes now for want of comfort. Remember
+gentlemen, your liues are like so many
+lighted Tapers, that are with care deliuered to all of
+you to maintaine: these with wind-puft wrath may
+be extinguisht, which drunkennes put out, which
+negligence let fall: for mans time of itselfe is not so
+short, but it is more shortened by sin. The fire of
+my light is now at the last snuffe, and the want of
+wherwith to sustaine it, there is no substance left
+for life to feede on. Trust not then (I beseech yee)
+to such weake staies: for they / are as changeable in
+minde, as in many attires. Well, my hand is tired,
+and I am forst to leaue where I would begin; for a
+whole booke cannot containe these wrongs, which I
+am forst to knit vp in some few lines of words.
+
+  _Desirous that you should liue, though
+  himselfe be dying,
+  Robert Greene._
+
+Now to all men I bid farewell in this sort, with
+this conceited Fable of the olde Comedian _Æsope_.
+
+An Ant and a Grashopper walking together on a
+greene, the one carelessely skipping, the other carefully
+prying what winters prouision was scattered in
+the way: the Grashopper scorning (as wantons wil)
+this needelesse thrift (as he tearmed it) reprooued him
+thus:
+
+  The greedie miser thirsteth still for gaine;
+  His thrift is theft, his weale works others woe:
+  That foole is fond which will in caues remaine,
+  When mongst faire sweetes he may at pleasure goe.
+
+To this the Ant perceiuing the Grashoppers
+meaning, quickly replied:
+
+  The thriftie husband spares what vnthrifts spends,
+  His thrift no theft, for dangers to prouide:
+  Trust to thy selfe, small hope in want yeeld friendes,
+  A caue is better than the desarts wide.
+
+In short time these two parted, the one to his
+pleasure / the other to his labour. Anon Haruest
+grewe on, and reft from the Grashopper his woonted
+moysture. Then weakely skips he to the medows
+brinks: where till fell winter he abode. But stormes
+continually powring, hee went for succour to the Ant
+his olde acquaintance, to whome he had scarce discouered
+his estate, but the little worme made this
+replie.
+
+  Pack hence (quoth he) thou idle lazie worme,
+  My house doth harbour no vnthriftie mates:
+  Thou scornedst to toile, and now thou feelst the storme,
+  And starust for foode while I am fed with cates.
+   Vse no intreats, I will relentlesse rest,
+   For toyling labour hates an idle guest.
+
+The Grashopper, foodlesse, helpelesse, and
+strengthlesse, got into the next brooke, and in the
+yeelding sand digde himselfe a pit: by which likewise
+he ingraued this Epitaph.
+
+  When Springs greene prime arrayd me with delight,
+  And euery power with youthfull vigor fild,
+  Gaue strength to worke what euer fancie wild:
+  I neuer feard the force of winters spight.
+
+  When first I saw the sunne the day begin,
+  And drie the mornings teares from hearbs and grasse;
+  I little thought his chearefull light would passe,
+  Till vgly night with darknes enterd in.
+        And then day lost I mournd, spring past I waild,
+        But neither teares for this or that auaild.
+
+  Then too too late I praisd the Emmets paine, /
+  That sought in spring a harbour gainst the heate:
+  And in the haruest gathered winters meate,
+  Perceiuing famine, frosts, and stormie raine.
+
+  My wretched end may warne Greene springing youth,
+  To vse delights as toyes that will deceiue,
+  And scorne the world before the world them leaue:
+  For all worlds trust, is ruine without ruth.
+        Then blest are they that like the toyling Ant,
+        Prouide in time gainst winters wofull want.
+
+With this the grashopper yeelding to the weathers
+extremit[ie], died comfortlesse without remedie. Like
+him myselfe: like me, shall al that trust to friends or
+times inconstancie. Now faint of my last infirmitie,
+beseeching them that shal burie my bodie, to publish
+this last farewell, written with my wretched hand.
+
+Fælicem fuisse infaustum.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+_A letter written to his wife, found with this
+booke after his death._
+
+The remembrance of many wrongs offered thee,
+and thy vnreprooued virtues, adde greater sorrow
+to my miserable state then I can vtter or thou
+conceiue. Neither is it lessened by consideration
+of thy absence (though shame would let me hardly
+beholde thy face) but exceedingly aggrauated, for
+that I cannot (as I ought) to thy owne selfe reconcile
+my selfe, that thou mightest witnesse my inward woe
+at this instant, that haue made thee a wofull wife for
+so long a time. But equal heauen hath denied that
+comfort, giuing at my last neede / like succour as I
+haue sought all my life: being in this extremitie as
+voide of helpe as thou hast beene of hope. Reason
+would, that after so long waste, I should not send
+thee a childe to bring thee greater charge; but
+consider he is the fruit of thy wombe, in whose face
+regard not the fathers faults so much as thy owne
+perfections. He is yet Greene, and may grow
+straight, if he be carefully tended: otherwise apt
+enough (I feare me) to follow his fathers folly. That
+I haue offended thee highly I knowe; that thou canst
+forget my iniuries I hardly beleeue: yet perswade I
+my selfe if thou saw my wretched state thou couldest
+not but lament it: nay, certainely I knowe thou
+wouldest. Al my wrongs muster themselues about
+me, euery euill at once plagues me. For my contempt
+of God, I am contemned of men: for my
+swearing and forswearing, no man will beleeue me:
+for my gluttony, I suffer hunger: for my drunkennesse,
+thirst: for my adulterie, vlcerous sores. Thus
+God hath cast me downe, that I might be humbled:
+and punished me for example of others sinne: and
+although he suffers me in this world to perish without
+succour, yet trust I in the world to come to finde
+mercie, by the merits of my Sauiour, to whome I
+commend this, and commit my soule.
+
+_Thy repentant husband for his disloyaltie._
+
+_Robert Greene._
+
+
+_Fælicem fuisse infaustum._
+
+
+FINIS
+
+
+
+
+V., VI.--GABRIEL HARVEY AND THOMAS NASH
+
+
+(_Characters of Gabriel Harvey and accounts of his
+quarrel with the Marlowe group, and Nash in particular,
+will be found in all histories of Elizabethan
+literature, and also elsewhere. The war of pamphlets
+between Harvey and Nash was a very furious word-battle,
+and its two chief monuments_, Pierce's Supererogation
+_and_ Have with you to Saffron Walden, _are as
+choice examples of scurrility as can easily be found.
+But both are very long, and as I have set my heart
+on giving whole pamphlets, I have preferred Harvey's_
+Precursor _and Nash's_ Prognostication. _The former is
+a sort of pilot engine to_ Pierce's Supererogation, _published
+first before and then with the longer piece, and
+for all its brevity intensely characteristic of Harvey--the
+incarnation of the donnishness of his time, and
+also of a certain side of the Elizabethan man of letters
+generally. The latter, though evidently composed in
+direct imitation of Rabelais, of whom Nash was certainly
+a reader, was indirectly an attack on the Harveys,
+one of whom, Gabriel's brother Richard, was a great
+astrologer._)
+
+
+
+
+Pierces Supererogation
+
+OR
+
+A NEW PRAYSE OF THE
+
+OLD ASSE.
+
+
+_A Preparatiue to certaine larger Discourses, intituled_
+
+NASHES S. FAME.
+
+                                 Gabriell Haruey.
+
+
+_Il vostro Malignare Non Giova Nvlla._
+
+
+LONDON
+
+Imprinted by Iohn Wolfe.
+
+1593
+
+
+
+
+
+_To my very gentle and liberall frendes, M. Barnabe
+Barnes, M. Iohn Thorius, M. Antony Chewt, and
+euery fauorable Reader._
+
+
+Louing M. Barnabe, M. Iohn, and M. Antony (for
+the rest of my partiall C[=o]menders must pardon me,
+till the Print be better acquainted with their names),
+I haue lately receiued your thrise-curteous Letters,
+with the Ouerplus of your thrise-sweet Sonets annexed:
+the liberallest giftes, I beleeue, that euer you bestowed
+vpon so slight occasion, and the very prodigallest
+fruites of your floorishing wittes. Whose onely default
+is, not your, but my default, that the matter is nothing
+correspondent to the manner; and miselfe must either
+grosely forget miselfe, or franckly acknowledge mi
+simple selfe an vnworthy subiect of so worthy commendations.
+Which I cannot read without blushing,
+repeate without shame, or remember without griefe,
+that I come so exceeding-short in so excessiue great
+accountes; the summes of your rich largesse, not of
+my poore desert; and percase deuised to aduertise me
+what I should be, or to signifie what you wish [me]
+to be; not to declare what I am, or to insinuate what
+I may be. Eloquence, and Curtesie were euer bountifull
+in the amplifying veine: and it hath bene reputed
+a frendly Pollicy, to encourage their louing acquaintance
+to labour the attainement of those perfections,
+which they blason in them, as already atcheiued.
+Either some such intention you haue, by / way of
+Stratageme, to awaken my negligence, or enkindle
+my confidence; or you are disposed by way of Ciuility,
+to make me vnreasonably beholding vnto you for your
+extreme affection. Which I must either leaue vnrequited;
+or recompense affection with affection, &
+recommende me vnto you with your owne Stratageme,
+fitter to animate fresher spirites, or to whet finer edges.
+Little other vse can I, or the world reape of those
+great-great commendations, wherewith you, and diuers
+other Orient wittes haue newly surcharged me, by
+tendring so many kinde Apologies in my behalfe, and
+presenting so many sharpe inuectiues against my
+aduersaries: vnlesse also you purposed to make me
+notably ashamed of my c[=o]fessed insufficiency, guilty
+of so manifold imperfecti[=o]s, in respect of the least
+semblance of those imputed singularities. Whatsoeuer
+your intendment in an ouerflowing affection was, I
+am none of those, that greedily surfet of selfe-conceit,
+or sottishly hugge their owne babyes. _Narcissus_ was
+a fayre boy, but a boy: _Suffenus_ a noble braggard,
+but a braggard: _Nestor_ a sweet-tongued old-man, but
+an Old-man: and _Tully_ (whom I honour in his
+vertues, and excuse in his ouersightes) an eloquent
+Selfe-loouer, but a Selfe-loouer. He that thought to
+make himselfe famous with his ouerweening and
+brauing _Il'e, Il'e, Il'e_, might perhaps nourrish an
+aspiring imagination to imitate his _Ego, Ego, Ego_, so
+gloriously reiterated in his gallant Orations. Some
+smirking minions are fine fellowes in their owne
+heades, and some cranke Princockes iolly men in
+their owne humours: as desperate in resolution, as
+the dowtiest ranke of Errant knightes; and as coye
+in phantasie, as the nicest sort of simpring damosels,
+that in their owne glasses find no creature so bewtifull,
+or amiable, as their delitious selues. I haue beheld,
+/ & who hath not seene some lofty conceites, towring
+very high, & coying themselues sweetly on their owne
+amounting winges, young feathers of old Icarus?
+The gay Peacocke is woondrously inamored vpon
+the glittering fanne of his owne gorgious taile, and
+weeneth himselfe worthy to be crowned the Prince of
+byrdes, and to be enthronished in the chaire of
+supreme excellency. Would Christ, the greene Popiniay,
+with his newfangled iestes, as new as Newgate,
+were not asmuch to say, as his owne Idol. Queint
+wittes must haue a Priuiledge to prank-vp their dainty
+limmes, & to fawne vpon their owne tricksie deuises.
+But they that vnpartially know themselues, seuerely
+examine their owne abilities; vprightly counterpoise
+defectes with sufficiencies; frankly confesse the
+greatest part of their knowledge to be the least part
+of their ignorance; aduisedly weigh the difficulties of
+the painfull and toylesome way, the hard maintenance
+of credit easely gotten, the impossible satisfaction of
+vnsatisfiable expectation, the vncertaine ficklenesse
+of priuate Phantasie, & the certaine brittlenesse of
+publique Fame; are not lightly bewitched with a
+fonde doting vpon their owne plumes. And they
+that deepely consider vpon the weakenesse of inward
+frailty, the casualtie of outward fortune, the detraction
+of Enuie, the virulency of Malice, the counter-pollicy
+of Ambition, and a hundred-hundred empeachments
+of growing reputation: that aswell diuinely, as philosophically
+haue learned to looue the gentlenesse of
+Humanity, to embrace the mildnesse of Modestie, to
+kisse the meekenesse of Humilitie, to loath the odiousnesse
+of Pride, to assuage the egreness of Spite, to
+preuent the vengeance of Hatred, to reape the sweet
+fruites of Temperance, to tread the smooth Path of
+Securitie, to take the firme course of Assuraunce, / and
+to enioy the felicitie of Contentment: that iudiciously
+haue framed themselues to carry Mindes, like their
+Bodies, and Fortunes, as apperteineth vnto them, that
+would be loth to ouerreach in presumptuous conceit:
+they I say, and all they that would rather vnderly the
+reproche of obscuritie, then ouercharge their mediocritie
+with an illusiue opinion of extraordinary furniture,
+and I wott not what imaginarie complementes:
+are readier, and a thousand times readier, to returne
+the greatest Prayses, where they are debt, then to
+accept the meanest, where they are almes. And I
+could nominate some, that in effect make the same
+reckoning of Letters, Sonets, Orations, or other
+writinges commendatory, that they do of meate without
+nourishment, of hearbes without vertue, of plants
+without fruite; of a lampe without oyle, a linke without
+light, or a fier without heate. Onely some of vs
+are not so deuoide of good manner, but we conceiue
+what belongeth to ciuill duty, and will euer be prest
+to interteine Curtesie with curtesie, & to requite any
+frendship with frendship: vnfainedly desirous, rather
+to recompense in deedes, then to glose, or paint in
+wordes. You may easely persuade me to publish,
+that was long sithence finished in writing, and is now
+almost dispatched in Print: (the amendes must be
+addressed in some other more materiall Treatise, or
+more formal Discourse: and haply _Nashes S. Fame_
+may supply some defectes of Pierces Supererogation:)
+but to suffer your thrise-affectionate Letters and Sonets,
+or rather your thrise lauish beneuolences to be published,
+which so farre surmount not onely the mediocrity
+of my present endeuour, but euen the possibility of
+any my future emproouement; I could not be persuaded
+by any eloquence, or importunacy in the
+world, were I not as monstrously / reuiled by some
+other without reason, as I am excessively extolled by
+you without cause. In which case he may seeme to
+a discreet enemy excusable, to an indifferent frend
+iustifiable, that is not transported with his owne
+passion, but relyeth on the iudgement of the learnedest,
+and referreth himselfe to the Practise of the wisest.
+In the one, esteeming _Plutarch_ or _Homer_ as an hundred
+Autors: in the other, valuing _Cato_, or _Scipio_, as
+a thousand Examples. I neuer read, or heard of any
+respectiue, or considerate person, vnder the degree of
+those that might reuenge at pleasure, contemne with
+autority, assecure themselues from common obloquy, or
+commande publique reputation (mighty men may finde
+it a Pollicy, to take a singular, or extraordinary course),
+so carelesse of his owne credit, so recklesse of the
+present time, so senselesse of the posterity, so negligent
+in occurents of consequence, so dissolute in his proceedings,
+so prodigall of his name, so deuoide of all
+regarde, so bereft of common sense, so vilely base, or
+so hugely hawtie of minde; that in case of infamous
+imputation, or vnworthy reproch, notoriously scattered-abroad,
+thought it not requisite, or rather necessary,
+to stand vpon his owne defence according to Equity,
+and euen to labour his owne commendation according
+to the presented occasion. Discourses yeeld plenty
+of Reasons: and Histories affourde store of Examples.
+It is no vain-glory to permit with consideration, that
+abused Modesty hath affected with discretion. It is
+vanity to controwle, that true honour hath practised:
+and folly to condemne, that right wisedome hath
+allowed. If any dislike Immodesty indeede, despise
+vanity indeede, reprooue Arrogancy indeede, or loath
+Vainglory indeede; I am as forward with Tongue and
+Hart as the foremost of the forwardest: and were / my
+pen answerable, perhaps at occasion it should not greatly
+lagge behinde. To accomplish, or aduaunce any vertuous
+purpose (sith it is now enforced to be sturring), it
+might easely be entreated, euen to the vttermost extent
+of that little-little Possibility, wherewith it hath pleased
+the Greatest to endowe it. Howbeit Curtesie is as
+ready to ouerloade with prayse as Malice eger to ouerthrow
+with reproch. Both ouershoote, as the manner
+is; but malice is the Diuell. For my poore part, I
+hope the One shall do me as little harme as fayre
+weather in my iorney: I am suer, the other hath done
+me more good, then was intended, and shall neuer
+puddle or annoy the course of the cleere running
+water. Albeit I haue studied much, and learned
+little: yet I haue learned to gleane some handfulls of
+corne out-of the rankest cockle: to make choice of
+the most fragrant flowers of _Humanitie_, the most
+vertuous hearbes of _Philosophie_, the most soueraine
+fruites of _Gouernment_, and the most heauenly manna
+of _Diuinitie_: to be acquainted with the fayrest, prouided
+for the fowlest, delighted with the temperatest,
+pleased with the meanest, and contented with all
+_weather_. Greater men may professe, and can atchieue
+greater matters: I thanke God I know the l[=e]gth, that
+is, the shortnes of mine owne foote. If it be any mans
+pleasure to extenuate my suffici[=e]cy in other knowledge,
+or practise, to empeach my ability in wordes, or
+deedes, to debase my fortune, to abridge my commendations,
+or to annihilate my fame, he shall finde
+a cold aduersary of him that hath layed hoat passions
+awatering, and might easely be induced to be the
+Inuectiue of his owne Non-proficiency. Onely he
+craueth leaue to estimate his credit, and to value his
+honesty, as behooueth euery man, that regardeth any
+good: and if withall it be his / vnfained request, that
+Order should repeale disorder; moderation restraine
+licentiousnesse; discretion abandon vanity; mildnesse
+assuage choller; meeknesse alay arrogancy; consideration
+reclaime rashnesse; indifferency attemper passion;
+Curtesie mitigate, Charity appease, & Vnity attone
+debate: pardon him. Or, in case nothing will preuaile
+with fury but fury, and nothing can winne desired
+amity but pretended hostility, that must driue-out
+one naile with another, & beat-away one wedge with
+another, according to the Latin Prouerbe: Pardon
+him also, that in the resolution of a good minde, will
+commaund, what he cannot entreat; and extort, what
+he cannot persuade. That little may be done with
+no great adoo: and, seeing it may as surely, as easely
+be done, I am humbly to beseech established Wisedome,
+to winke at one experiment of aduenturous
+Folly; neuer before embarked in any such acti[=o], and
+euer to eschewe the like with a chary regard, where
+any other mediation may purchase redresse. I will
+not vrge what conniuence hath been noted in as disfauorable
+cases: it is sufficient for me to pleade mine
+own acquittall. Other prayse he affecteth not, that
+in a deepe insight into his innermost partes findeth
+not the highest pitch of his Hope equiualent to the
+lowest pit of your commendation. And if by a gentle
+construction, or a fauorous encouragement, he seemeth
+any thing in others opinion, that is nothing in his
+owne Censure, the lesser his merite, the greater their
+mercy; and the barrainer his desert, the frutefuller
+your liberality. Whose vnmeasurable prayses I am
+to interpret, not as they may seeme in some bounteous
+conceit, but as they are in mine owne knowledge;
+good wordes, but vnfitly applied; frendly beneuolences,
+but wastfully bestowed; gallant amplifications,
+but slenderly deser/ued: what but termes of Ciuility,
+or fauours of Curtesie, or hyperboles of Looue: whose
+franke allowance I shall not be able to earne with the
+study of twenty yeares more: in briefe, nothing but
+partiall witnesses, preiudicate iudgements, idle preambles,
+and in effect meere wordes. And euen so as
+I found them, I leaue them. Yet let me not dismisse
+so extensiue curtesie with an empty hand. Whatsoeuer
+I am (that am the least little of my thoughtes,
+and the greatest contempt of mine owne hart), _Parthenophill_
+and _Parthenophe_ embellished, the _Spanish
+Counsellour_ Inglished, and _Shores Wife_ eternised;
+shall euerlastingly testifie what you are: go forward
+in maturity, as ye haue begun in pregnancy, and
+behold _Parthenopoeus_ the sonne of the braue Meleager,
+_Homer_ himselfe, and of the swift Atalanta _Calliope_
+herselfe: be thou, Barnabe, the gallant Poet, like
+Spencer, or the valiant souldiour, like Baskeruile;
+and euer remember thy _French seruice_ vnder the braue
+Earl of Essex. Be thou, Iohn, the many-tongued
+Linguist, like Andrewes, or the curious Intelligencer,
+like Bodley; and neuer forget _thy Netherlandish traine_
+vnder Him, that taught the Prince of Nauarre, now
+the valorous king of Fraunce. Be thou Antony, the
+flowing Oratour, like Dooue, or the skilfull Heralde,
+like Clarentius; and euer remember _thy Portugall
+voyage_ vnder Don Antonio. The beginning of vertuous
+Proceedings is the one halfe of honorable actions.
+Be yourselues in hope, and what yourselues desire in
+effect: and I haue attained some portion of my
+request. For you cannot wish so exceeding-well vnto
+me, but I am as ready with tongue, and minde, to
+wish a great-deale better vnto you, and to reacquite
+you with a large vsury of most-affectionate prayers,
+recommending you to the diuine giftes and gratious
+blessings of Heauen.
+
+May / it please the fauorable Reader, to voutsafe
+me the Curtesie of his Patience, vntill he hath
+thoroughly perused the whole Discourse at his howers
+of leysure (for such scriblings are hardly worth the
+vacantest howers): I am not to importune him any
+farther; but would be glad he might finde the
+Whole lesse tedious in the end, then some Parts in
+the beginning, or midst; or, at-least, that one peece
+might helpe to furnish-out amendes for an other.
+And so taking my leaue with the kindest Farewell of
+a most thankfull minde, I desist from wearying him
+with a tedious Preface, whom I am likely to tire with
+so many superfluous Discourses. Howbeit might it
+happely please the sweetest Intercessour to ensweeten
+the bitterest gall of Spite, and to encalme the roughest
+tempest of Rage, I could cordially wish that _Nashes
+S. Fame_ might be the Period of my Inuectiues: and
+_the excellent Gentlewoman_, my patronesse, or rather
+Championesse in this quarrel, is meeter by nature,
+and fitter by nurture, to be an enchaunting Angell,
+with her white quill, then a tormenting Fury with her
+blacke inke. It remaineth at the election of one,
+whom God indue with more discretion.
+
+At London: this 16. of July, 1593. The inuiolable
+frend of his entire frendes, Gabriell Haruey. /
+
+
+  _Her owne Prologue, or Demurr._
+
+  O Muses, may a wooman poore, and blinde,
+  A Lyon-draggon, or a Bull-beare binde?
+  Ist possible for puling wench to tame
+  _The furibundall Champion of Fame?_
+  He brandisheth the whurlewinde in his mouth,
+  And thunderbolteth so-confounding shott:
+  Where such a Bombard-goblin, North, or South,
+  With drad Pen-powder, and the conquerous pott?
+  Silly it is, that I can sing, or say:
+  And shall I venture such a blustrous fray?
+  Hazard not, panting quill, thy aspen selfe:
+  Hel'e murther thy conceit, and braine thy braine.
+  Spare me, ô super domineering Elfe,
+  And most, _railipotent_ for euer raine,
+      _Si Tibi vis ipsi parcere, parce Mihi._
+
+
+  _Her Counter-sonnet, or Correction of her owne Preamble._
+
+  _Scorne_ frump the meacock Verse that dares not sing,
+  Drouping, so like a flagging flowre in raine:
+  Where doth the _Vrany_ or _Fury_ ring,
+  That shall enfraight my stomacke with disdaine?
+  Shall Frend put-vp such braggardous affrontes?
+  Are milksop Muses such whiteliuer'd Trontes?
+  Shall Boy the gibbet be of Writers all,
+  And none hang-vp the gibbet on the wall?
+  If / dreery hobbling Ryme hart-broken be,
+  And quake for dread of Danters scarecrow Presse:
+  Shrew Prose, thy pluckcrow implements addresse,
+  And pay the hangman pen his double fee.
+  Be Spite a Sprite, a Termagant, a Bugg:
+  Truth feares no ruth, and can the Great Diu'll tugg.
+      ----_Ultrix accincta flagello._
+
+
+  _Her old Comedy, newly intituled._
+
+  My Prose is resolute, as Beuis sworde:
+  _March rampant beast in formidable hide:_
+  _Supererogation Squire on cockhorse ride:_
+  Zeale shapes an aunswer to the blouddiest worde.
+  If nothing can _the booted Souldiour_ tame,
+  Nor Ryme, nor Prose, nor Honesty, nor Shame,
+  But _Swash_ will still his trompery aduaunce,
+  Il'e leade the _gagtooth'd fopp_ a new-founde daunce.
+  Deare howers were euer cheape to pidling me:
+  I knew a glorious, and brauing Knight,
+  That would be deem'd a truculentall wight:
+  Of him I scrauld a dowty Comedy.
+  _Sir Bombarduccio_ was his cruell name:
+  But _Gnasharduccio_ the sole brute of _Fame_.
+
+
+  _L'Enuoy._
+
+  See, how He brayes, and fumes at me poore lasse,
+  That must immortalise the killcowe _Asse_. /
+
+
+_To the Right Worshipfvll, his especiall deare frend,
+M. Gabriell Haruey, Doctour of Lawe._
+
+Sweet M. Doctour Haruey (for I cannot intitule
+you with an Epithite of lesse value then that which
+the Grecian and Roman Oratours ascribed to Theophrastus,
+in respect of so many your excellent labours,
+garnished with the garland of matchlesse Oratory):
+if at any time either the most earnest persuasion of
+a deare frend, and vnusually most deare, and constant,
+adiured therevnto by the singular vertue of your most
+prayse-worthy, and vnmatchable wit: or the woonderful
+admiration of your peerlesse conceit, embraued with
+so many gorgeous ornamentes of diuine Rhetorique:
+or the doubtlesse successive benefit thereof, deuoted
+to the glory of our English Eloquence, and our vulgar
+Tuscanisme (if I may so terme it); may worke any
+plausible or respectiue motions with you to bewtifie,
+and enrich our age, with those most praise-moouing
+workes, full of gallantest discourse, and reason, which
+I vnderstand by some assured intelligence be now
+glowing vpon the anvile, ready to receiue the right
+artificiall forme of diuinest workem[=a]ship: th[=e] let I
+beseech you, nay, by all our mutuall frendships I
+coniure you (loue and admiration of them arming me
+with the placarde of farther confidence) those, and
+other your incomparable writings, speedily, or rather
+pre/sently, shew th[=e]selues in the shining light of the
+Sunne. That, by this Publication of so rare, & rich
+Discourses, our English Rauens, the spitefull enemyes
+to all birdes of more bewtifull wing, and more harmonious
+note then themselues, may shroude themselues
+in their nests of basest obscurity, & keepe
+hospitality with battes, and owles, fit consorts for
+such vile carions. Good Sir, arise, and confound
+those Viperous Cryticall monsters, and those prophane
+Atheistes of our Commonwealth; which endeuour with
+their mutinous and Serpentine hissing, like geese, not
+to arme the Senatours and Oratours of Rome, but to
+daunt, astonish, and, if it were possible, to ouerthrow
+them. And sithence the very thunder-lightning of
+your admirable Eloquence is suffici[=e]tly auailable to
+strike them with a lame Palsie of tongue (if they be
+not already smitten with a sencelesse Apoplexy in
+head, which may easely ensewe such contagious
+Catharres and Reumes, as I am priuy some of them
+haue been grieuously disseased withall), misse not,
+but hitt them seurly home, as they deserue with
+Supererogation. You haue bene reputed euermore,
+since first I heard of you in Oxford and elsewhere,
+to haue bene as much giuen to fauour, commende,
+and frequent such as were approoued, or toward in
+learning, witt, kinde behauiour, or any good quality,
+as may be required in any man of your demerit: an
+vndoubted signe, how much you loath Inuectiues or
+any needeles cont[=e]tions. I would (as many your
+affectionate fr[=e]ds would) it had bene your fortune to
+haue encountred some other Paranymphes, then such
+as you are now to discipline: most vnwillingly, I
+perceiue, but most necessarily, & not without especiall
+consideration, being so manifestly vrged, and grosely
+prouoked to defend yourselfe. But you haue ere now
+bene acquainted / with patience perforce: and I hope
+the most desperate swasher of them will one day
+learne to shew himself honester or wiser. And thus
+recommending your sweete endeuours, with your
+grauer studies, to the highest treasury of heauenly
+Muses; I right hartely take my leaue with a Sonnet
+of that Muse, that honoreth the Vrany of du Bartas,
+and yourselfe: of du Bartas elsewhere; here of him,
+whose excellent Pages of the French King, the Scottish
+King, the braue Monsieur de la Nöe, the aforesayd
+Lord du Bartas, Sir Philip Sidney, and sundry
+other worthy personages, deserue immortall commendation.
+I thanke him very hartely that imparted vnto
+me those fewe sheetes: and if all be like them, truly
+all is passing notable, and right singular.
+
+
+SONNET.
+
+  Those learned _Oratours_, Roomes auncient sages,
+    Persuasions Pith, directours of affection,
+    The mindes chief counsail, rhetoriques perfection,
+    The pleasaunt baulms of peace, warres fierce outrages:
+  Sweet Grecian _Prophets_, whose smooth Muse assuages
+    The Furies powerfull wrath, poisons infection:
+    _Philosophers_ (by Causes due connexion,
+    Match't with th' Effects of Nature) future ages
+  Embrauing with rich documents of Art: /
+    The wisest _States-men_ of calme Commonweales:
+    The learned _Generall Councels_, which impart
+    Diuinest laws, whose wholesome Physique Heales
+      Both Church, and Layety: All in _one_ beholde
+      Ennobled Arts, as Precious stones in golde.
+
+From my lodging in Holborne: this of June.
+1593. Your most affectionate,
+
+_Barnabé Barnes._
+
+Hauing perused my former Sonet, if it may please
+you, Sir, to do asmuch for your deare frends _Parthenophill_,
+and _Parthenophe_, they shall haue the desired
+fruite of their short exercise, and will rest beholding
+to your curteous acceptance: which they would be
+glad to reacquite in the loouingest manner they may.
+And so most affectionatly recommend themselues
+vnto your good self: whose vnblemished fame they
+will euermore maintaine with the best bloud of their
+hartes, tongues, and Pennes. We will not say, how
+much we long to see the whole Prayses of your two
+notorious enemyes, the _Asse_ and the _Foxe_.
+
+
+SONET.
+
+Nash, _or the confuting Gentleman_.
+
+  The Muses scorne; the Courtiers laughing-stock;
+    The Countreys Coxecombe; Printers proper new;
+    The Citties Leprosie; the Pandars stew;
+    Vertues disdayne; honesties aduerse rock;
+  Enuies vile champion; slaunders stumblingblock.
+    Graund / Oratour of Cunny-catchers crew;
+    Base broaching tapster of reports vntrue;
+    Our moderne Viper, and our Countryes mock;
+  True Valors Cancer-worme, sweet Learnings rust.
+    Where shall I finde meete colours, and fit wordes,
+    For such a counterfaict, and worthlesse matter?
+  Him, whom thou raylest on at thine owne lust,
+    Sith _Bodine_ and sweet _Sidney_ did not flatter,
+    His Inuectiue thee too much grace affordes.
+
+  _Parthenophil._
+
+
+SONET.
+
+  Haruey, _or the sweet Doctour_.
+
+  _Sidney_, sweet Cignet, pride of Thamesis;
+     Apollos laurell; Mars-his proud prowesse:
+  _Bodine_, register of Realmes happinesse,
+     Which Italyes, and Fraunces wonder is:
+  _Hatcher_, with silence whom I may not misse:
+     Nor _Lewen_, Rhetoriques richest noblesse:
+  Nor _Wilson_, whose discretion did redresse
+     Our English Barbarisme: adioyne to this
+  Diuinest morall _Spencer_: let these speake
+     By their sweet Letters, which do best vnfould
+  _Harueys_ deserued praise: since my Muse weake
+     Cannot relate somuch as hath bene tould
+  By these _Fornam'd_: then, vaine as it were to bring
+     New feather to his Fames swift-feathered wing.
+
+  _Parthenophe._
+
+
+_The Printers Aduertissement to the Gentleman Reader_.
+
+CURTEOUS Gentlemen, it seemed good to M. Doctour
+Haruey, for breuity-sake, and because he liked
+not ouer-long Preambles, or Postambles, to short discourses,
+to omit the commendatorie Letters, and
+Sonnets of M. Thorius, M. Chewt, and diuers other
+his affectionate frendes of London, and both the
+Vniuersities. Which neuerthelesse, are reserued to
+be prefixed, inserted, or annexed, either in his _defensiue
+Letters_, enlarged with certaine new Epistles of more
+speciall note; or in his _Discourses of Nashes S. Fame_,
+already finished, & presently to be published, as these
+shall like their interteinement: of whose fauorable &
+plausible Welcome, diuers learned and fine wittes
+haue presumed the best. Howbeit finally it was
+thought not amisse, vpon conference with some his
+aduised acquaintance, to make choice of some two or
+three of the reasonablest, and temperatest Sonnets
+(but for variety, & to auoyde tediousnesse in the
+entrance, rather to be annexed in the end, then prefixed
+in the beginning of the present Discourses):
+one of the foresayd M. Thorius, an other of M.
+Chewt, and the third of a learned French gentleman,
+Monsieur Fregeuill Gautius, who hath published some
+weighty Treatises, aswell Politique as Religious, both
+in Latin and French; and hath acquainted M. Doctour
+Haruey with certaine most profitable Mathematicall
+deuises of his own inuention. The residue is not
+added by me, but annexed by the Autor himselfe:
+whom I humbly recommende to your curteous Censure,
+and so rest from ouertroubling you with my
+unpolished lines.
+
+
+
+  A Wonderfull
+
+  _strange and miraculous, Astro-_
+  logicall Prognostication for
+  this yeer of our Lord God.
+  1591.
+
+  Discouering such wonders to
+  _happen this yeere, as neuer chaunced_
+  since Noes floud.
+
+  _Wherein if there be found one lye_,
+  the Author will loose his credit
+  for euer.
+
+  By Adam Fouleweather, Student
+  in Asse-tronomy.
+
+  Imprinted at London by _Thomas_
+  Scarlet.
+
+  (1591.)
+
+
+_To the Readers health._
+
+SITTING Gentlemen vpon Douer cliffes, to quaint
+my selfe with the art of Navigation, and knowe the
+course of the Tides, as the Danske Crowes gather on
+the Sandes against a storme: so there appeared on
+the downs such a flock of knaues, that, by Astrological
+coniectures, I began to gather that this yeere
+would proue intemperate by an extreme heat in
+S[=o]mer, insomuch that the stones in Cheap side
+should be so hot, that diuers persons should feare to
+goe from Poules to the Counter in the Poultrye:
+whereupon I betook me to my Ephimerides, and
+erecting a figure, haue found such strange accidents
+to fall out this yeere, Mercury being Lord and predominate
+in the house of Fortune, that many fooles
+shall haue full cofers, and wise men walke vp and
+downe with empty pursses: that if Iupiter were not
+ioyned with him in a fauourable aspect, the Butchers /
+of East-cheape should doo little or nothing all Lent
+but make prickes: seeing therefore the wonders that
+are like to fall out this present yeere, I haue for the
+benefit of my Countrymen taken in hand to make
+this Prognostication, discoursing breefelye of the
+Eclipses both of Sunne and Moone, with their
+dangerous effectes like to followe, which if God
+preuent not, many poore men are like to fast on
+Sondaies for want of food, and such as haue no
+shooes to goe barefoot, if certaine deuout Coblers
+proue not the more curteous: but yet Astrologie is
+not so certaine but it may fayle: and therfore diuers
+Hostesses shall chaulke more this yeere then their
+Guests wil wipe out: So that I conclude, whatsoeuer
+is saide by art. _Sapiens dominabitur astris._
+
+Your freend and Student in Asse-trologie.
+
+_Adam Fouleweather._ /
+
+
+_Of the Eclipses that shall happen this present yeere, to
+the great and fearfull terrifying of the beholders._
+
+IF _we may credit_ the authenticall censures of
+Albumazan and Ptolomey, about the motions of
+celestiall bodies, whose influence dooth exitat and
+procure continuall mutability in the lower region: we
+shal finde y^t the Moon this yeere shall be eclipsed,
+which shall happen in one of y^e 12 moneths, & some
+of the foure / quarters of the yeere, whose pointes
+as they shall be totallye darkened, so the effectes shall
+be wondrous and strange. For Cancer being the
+sole house of the Moone, dooth presage that this
+yeere fruits shall be greatly eaten with Catterpillers:
+as Brokers, Farmers, and Flatterers, which feeding
+on the sweate of other mens browes, shall greatlye
+hinder the beautye of the spring, and disparage the
+growth of all hottest hearbes, vnlesse some northerly
+winde of Gods veng[=a]ce cleere the trees of such
+Catterpillers, with a hotte plague and the pestilence:
+but Cancer being a watrie signe and cheefe gouernour
+of flouds and streams, it foresheweth that Fishmongers
+if they be not well lookt to, shall goe downe
+as farre as Graues end in Wherries and forestall the
+market, to the great preiudice of the poore, that all
+Lent ground their fare on the benefit of Salte fishe
+and red herring: besides it signifieth that Brewers
+shal make hauocke of Theames water, and put more
+liquour then they were accustomed amongst their
+Maulte: to the ouerthrowe of certain crased Ale
+knights, whose morning draughtes of strong Beere is
+a great staye to their stomacks: a lamentable case if
+it be not lookt into and preuented by some speedye
+supplication to the woorshipfull order of ale cunners. /
+But in this we haue great hope that because the
+effects cannot surprise the cause, diuers Tapsters
+shall trust out more then they can get in: and
+although they fill their Pots but halfe full, yet for
+want of true dealing die in the Brewers debt.
+
+Thus much for the watry signe of Cancer, and
+because this Eclipse is little visible in our horison, I
+passe it ouer with this prouiso to all seafaring men,
+to cary more shirts then one with them a ship boord,
+lest to their great labor they spend many houres in
+murthering their vermin on the hatches.
+
+
+_The Eclipse of the Sunne._
+
+THE Eclipse of the Sun according to Proclus
+opinion is like to produce many hot and pestilent
+infirmities, especiallie amongst Sumners and Petti-foggers,
+whose faces being combust with many fiery
+inflamatiues shall shew y^e dearth, that by their deuout
+drinking is like to ensue of Barly, if violent death
+take not away such c[=o]suming mault worms: diuers
+are like to be troubled with such hotte rewmes in
+their heads, that their haire shall fall off: and such
+hot agues shall raigne this yeere, with strange feuers
+and calamaties, that / if the Sunne were not placed in
+a colde signe, Renish wine would rise to ten pence a
+quarte before the latter end of August: but diuers
+good Planets being retrog[r]ade, foretelleth that
+Lemmans this yeere shalbe plenty, insomuch that
+many shall vse them to bedward, for the quallifying
+of their hot and inflamed stomackes. And Mars
+being placed neere vnto the Sunne sheweth that there
+shalbe a great death among people: olde women that
+can liue no longer shall dye for age: and yong men
+that haue Vsurers to their father, shal this yeer haue
+great cause to laugh, for the Deuill hath made a
+decree, that after they are once in hell, they shall
+neuer rise againe to trouble their executors: Beside
+that by all coniecturall argumentes the influence of
+Mars shall be so violent, that diuers souldiers in
+partes beyond the seas, shall fall out for want of their
+paye, and heere in our meridionall clyme, great
+quarrelles shall be raised between man and man,
+especially in cases of Law: gentry shall goe check-mate
+with Iustice, and coyne out countenance oft-times
+equitie: the poore sitting on pennylesse benche,
+shall sell their Coates to striue for a strawe, and
+Lawyers laugh such fooles to scorne as cannot keep
+their crownes in their pursses.
+
+Further, there is like to be great falling out
+amongst / Church men and certaine fond sects of
+religion like to trouble the commons: selfe conceipters
+and ouer holy counterfeites that delight in singularitie,
+shall rise vp and despise authoritie, presuming euen
+to abuse the higher powers, if Saturne with a frowning
+influence, did not threaten them with Tibornes
+consequence. But whereas the Sun is darkned but
+by digits, and that vpon y^e south points, it presageth
+great miseries to Spain and those Southerly
+Countries: Friers and Monks shal heat them so this
+yeer with confessing of Harlots, that their crownes
+shall wax balde of the one accord, to the great
+impouerishing of the Spanish Barbers: Surgeons in
+Spain shall wax rich, and their Hospitals poore:
+such a pestilent mortallitie is like to fall amongst
+those hipocriticall massemongers. The Dukes,
+Marquesses & Counties shall haue their dublets
+closed with such Spanish buttons, that they shal
+neuer proue good quiresters, for the hotte and inflamed
+rewmes fallen down into their throats: It is
+further to be feared, that because the Eclipse hapneth
+in Iulye, there will through the extrem heat grow
+such abund[=a]ce of Fleas, that women shall not goe
+to bed before twelue a clocke at night, for the great
+murthers and stratagems they are like to commit
+vpon those little animalls.
+
+And whereas this Eclipse falleth out at three of
+the clocke in the afternoone, it foresheweth that
+manye shall goe soberer into Tauernes then they
+shall come out: and that he which drinkes hard
+and lyes cold, shal neuer dye of the sweate, although
+Gemini combust and retrog[r]ade, sheweth that some
+shall haue so sore a sweating, that they may sell their
+haire by the pound to stuffe Tennice balles: but if
+the Beadelles of Bridewell be carefull this Summer,
+it may be hoped that Peticote lane may be lesse
+pestered with ill aires then it was woont: and the
+houses there so cleere clensed, that honest women
+may dwell there without any dread of the whip and
+the carte: and I finde that the altitude of that place
+and of Shordich are all one eleuated, and 2 degrees,
+and vnder the zenith or verticall point of Venus,
+which presageth that sundry sorts of men and women
+shall be there resident: some shalbe so short heeld
+& so quesie stomackt that they shal ly in their
+beds while noon, by which means they shal grow so
+ful of grosse humors, that they shalbe troubled with
+strange timpanies & swellings in their bellies, vncurable
+for fortye weekes vntill they be helped by the
+aduice of some skilfull Midwife.
+
+Besides, other of the same sex and faction, / shall
+learn to cosin young nouices, and fetch in young
+Gentlemen, to the great ouerthrow of youth, if some
+sharpe and speedye redresse be not fetcht from the
+woorshipfull Colledge of the Phisitians in the parrish
+of S. Brides. But heere by the waye gentle Reader,
+note that this Eclipse sheweth, that this yeer shall
+be some strange birthes of Children produced in
+some monstrous forme, to the greefe of the Parentes,
+and fearefull spectackle of the beholders: but because
+the Eclipse chaunseth Southerlye, it is little to be
+feared that the effectes shall fail in England: yet
+somewhat it is to bee doubted, that diuers Children
+shall be borne, that when they come to age shall not
+knowe their owne Fathers: others shall haue their
+fingers of [t]he nature of Lyme twigges, to get most
+parte of their liuing with fiue and a reache: some
+shall be born with feet like vnto Hares, that they
+shal run so swift, that they shall neuer tarry with
+maister, but trudge from poste to piller, till they take
+vp beggars bush for their lodging: Others shall haue
+Noses like Swine, that there shall not be a feast
+within a myle, but they shall smell it out: But
+especiallye it is to be doubted, that diuers women
+this yeere shall bee borne with two tungs, to the
+terrible greefe of such as shall marry them, vttering /
+in their furye such rough cast eloquence, that knaue
+and slaue shalbe but holyday woords to their
+husbands. And whereas this fearefull Eclipse dooth
+continue but an houre and a halfe, it signifieth that
+this yeere womens loue to their husbands shall be
+very shorte, some so momentarye, that it shall scarce
+continue from the Church doore to the wedding
+house: and that Hennes, Capons, Geese, and other
+pullin shall little haunt poore mens tables, but flye
+awaye with spittes in their bellies to fatte Churlles
+houses, that pamper themselues vp with delicates
+and dainties: although very fewe other effectes are to
+be prognosticated, yet let me giue this caueat to my
+Countrymen, as a clause to this wonderfull Eclipse.
+Let such as haue clothes enow, keep themselues
+warme from taking of colde: and I would wishe rich
+men all this winter to sit by a good fire, and hardlye
+to goe to bed without a Cuppe of Sack, and that so
+qualified with Suger, that they proue not rewmatick:
+let them feede daintilye and take ease enough, and
+no doubt according to the iudgement of Albumazar,
+they are like to liue as long as they can, and not to
+dye one hower before their time.
+
+Thus much for this strange Eclipse of the Sunne.
+
+
+_Of / the second Eclipse of the Moone, which is like to
+fall out when it chaunseth either before the_ 31. _of
+December or els not at all, this present yeere._ 1591.
+
+The second Eclipse of the Moon shalbe but little
+seene in England, wherevpon the effectes shall be
+nothing preiuditiall to our clyme: yet as the bodye
+of the Moone is neuer obscure in part or in whole,
+but some dangerous euents doo followe: so I meane
+to set downe breefely what is to be lookte for in these
+westerne partes of the worlde.
+
+First therefore it is to bee feared, that the Danes
+shall this yeere bee greatly giuen to drincke, insomuch
+that English Beere shall there be woorth fiue
+pence a stoape, that their Hoffes and tappe houses
+shall be more frequented then the Parishe Churches,
+and many shall haue more Spruce Beere in their
+bellies, then wit in their heads: wherevpon shall /
+growe Apoplexies and colde palsies in their legges,
+that they shall diuers times not bee able to stand on
+their feete. Vpon this shall growe great commoditye
+to the Potters and Glasse makers, for it is like there
+shall be a great ouerthrowe of them, if there bee
+not some act made for drinking in blacke Jackes.
+But if the weather prooue seasonable, and the
+Haruest great, and the Barnes full of Corne: Rye is
+like to be cheap in Denmarke, and bread to be of
+a reasonable size, for the releeuing of the poore.
+Mar[r]y, Fraunce is like to haue a great dearth of honest
+men, if the king preuaile not against these mutenous
+Rebelles of the League, and Papists in diuers places
+to be plentye, if God or the King rout them not out
+with a sharpe ouerthrow: But this hope we haue
+against that rascall rabble of those shauelings, that
+there was found in an olde booke this Prophecie
+spoken about Jerusalem long since by a Jew: The
+tree that God hath not planted shall be pulled vp by
+the roots: some curious Astronomers of late dayes
+that are more Propheticall than Juditiall, affirme that
+Martin the kill-hog for his deuout drincking (by the
+Pope canonized a Saint) shall rise againe in the
+apparell of a Minister, and tickle some of the baser
+sorte with such lusty humors in their braines, that /
+diuers selfe conceited fooles shal become his disciples,
+and grounding their witlesse opinion on an heriticall
+foundation, shall seeke to ruinate authoritie, and peruert
+all good orders established in the Church, to the
+great preiudice of vnity and religion, tituling th[=e]selues
+by the names of Martinistes, as the Donatists grew
+from Donates: were it not that the Moone being in
+Taurus, which gouernes the neck and throat, shewes
+that the Squinancie shall raigne amongst them, and
+diuers for want of breath dye of the strangling. Now
+for that Capricornus is a signe wherein Luna is
+often resident, it prognosticateth a great death
+amongst hornde beasts. The Butchers shall commit
+wilfull murther vpon Sheepe and Oxen, and diuers
+Keepers kill store of Buckes, and reserue no other
+fees to their selues but the hornes, insomuche that
+if the Person of Horne-Church in Essex take not
+heede, there maye hap to prooue this yeere some
+Cuckoldes in his Parrish.
+
+But there is like to bee concluded by an act set
+downe in Grauesende Barge, that hee that wypes his
+Nose and hath it not, shall forfeite his whole face,
+and that all such as are iealous ouer their wiues
+without cause, are worthie to bee punisht with / the
+horne plague for their labour. And whereas this
+Eclipse is farre from the signe Pisces, it shewes that
+there shall bee much stinking fish this yere at Billings
+gate, and that Quinborowe oyster boates shall ofte
+times carrie knaues as wel as honest men: but let
+the Fish-wiues take heed, for if most of them proue
+not scoldes, yet because Pisces is a signe that
+gouernes the feete, they shall weare out more shooes
+in Lent then in anie two months beside through the
+whole yeere, and get their liuing by walking and crying,
+because they slaundered Ram alley with such a
+tragical infamie. The rest I conceale as friuolous, and
+little necessarie to be touched in this Prognostication.
+
+
+_A declaration of the generall disposition of sundrie
+conceited qualities incident vnto mens mindes &
+natures throughout these foure quarters of the
+yere, by the merrie influence of the Planets, with
+some other tragicall euents and obseruations worthie
+the noting, contayned vnder each seperated reuolution._
+
+_And first of the inclination of the Winter quarter._
+
+Winter / the first Astronomicall quarter of the yeare,
+according to my vsuall account, whatsoever Ptolomie
+says, beginneth sooner with poore men than with
+rich, graunted so by the malignant influence of
+Saturne, whose constellation is that suche as haue no
+money nor credit, shall want coles & woode, and
+be faine to stand and starue for colde, while olde
+pennifathers sit and wast them selues by the fire.
+The winter beginning at that instant when the Sunne
+makes his entraunce into the first degree of Capricornus,
+that Hiemall solstitiall signe shewes that by
+naturall inclination this quarter is generally fleugmatike,
+and that all shall be of suche great authoritie,
+that the Bakers Basket shall giue the wall vnto the
+Brewers Barrell, and a halfe pennye drie doe homage
+vnto a halfe pennye wet. The weather and season
+being so colde that diuerse for feare of the frost shall
+sit all daye at Tables and Cardes, while their poore
+wiues and families fast at home for their follies.
+And in respect that I finde three of the seauen
+Planetes to be in waterie signes as Juppiter, Mars,
+and the Moone, it signifieth that diuerse persons,
+both men and women, for want of wine or strong
+drinke shall goe to bedde sober against their willes.
+That Sea-faring men shall haue ill lucke if / either
+their shippes hit agaynst rockes or sticke in the
+sandes, that there shall bee such great hoarie frostes,
+that men and women shall creepe to bedde together,
+and some of them lie so long till they bee fetchte out
+with a Bason. Heere Saturne retrograde in Gemini,
+shewes that there shall this Winter fall such great
+fogs and mists, that diuerse riche men shall loose
+their purses by the high waie side, and poore men be
+so weather beaten by the crafte of vsurers, that they
+shall begge their bread by the extremitie of such
+extortion: but Mercurie and Venus beeing congregated
+in Sagitarie, prognosticateth that for want of
+faire weather, such as haue but one shirt shall go
+woolward till that be a washing, and that water-men
+that want fares shall sit and blowe their fingers till
+theyr fellowes row betwixte the Old Swanne and
+Westminister. And by reason that Mars that malignant
+Planet, hath nothing to doe in that Hiemall
+reuolution, souldiers this Winter for the most parte,
+shall lie still in garrisons, and shall not be troubled
+with more monie than is necessarie. Beeing also
+greatly to bee feared, that through the extreame colde
+diuerse poore men shall die at riche mennes doores:
+pittie shall bee exiled, good woorkes trust ouer the sea
+with Jacke / a lent and Hospitalitie banisht as a signe
+of popish religion: and were it not that some moist
+shoures shal moderate the hardnes of the frost,
+Charitie should for want of house roome lie and
+freeze to death in the streets: diuerse great stormes
+are this yere to be feared, especially in houses where
+the wiues weare the breeches, with such lowde windes,
+that the women shall scolde their husbandes quight
+out of doores, wherevpon is like to fall great haile-stones
+as bigge as ioynd stooles, that some shall haue
+their heads broken: and all through the froward
+disposition of Venus. But Mars comes in and playes
+the man, who beeing placed in Gemini, that gouerns
+armes and shoulders, presageth that sundrie tall
+fellowes shall take heart at grasse, who armed with
+good cudgels, shall so lambeake these stubborne
+huswiues, that the wind shall turne into another
+quarter, and so the weather waxe more calme and
+quiet. Such greate floudes are like to insue,
+through this Hiemall distemperature, that diuerse
+men shall be drowned on drie hilles, and fishe if they
+could not swimme, were vtterly like to perish.
+Eeles are like to bee deere if there bee few or none
+taken, and plentie of poutes to bee had in all places,
+especiallie in those coastes and Countries where
+weomen haue / not their owne willes. Nowe Gentle
+Reader in respect of diuerse particular circumstances,
+drawne from the daily motions, progressions, stations,
+retrogradations, aspects, and other appointmentes of
+fixed and wandring stars, I am induced to set downe
+that such as haue no fire, shall feele most cold, and that
+wierdrawers, if they plye not their worke, shall feele no
+great heate, that they in Russia shall suffer more preiudice
+by the sharpenesse of Winter than the Spaniards:
+and yet one thing is to bee hoped for at the handes
+of Mercurie, that this winter mony shall haue a fall, for
+Philip and Mary shillings that heretofore went for 12d.
+shall now passe from man to man for 6d. a peece.
+
+The distemperance of this quarter, is like to
+breede many sicknesses and sundrie diseases as well
+in young as in old, proceeding either of corrupt
+and vicious bloud or of superabundance of crude
+and raw fleugmatike humors. As Cephala[l]gies or
+paines in the head, which shall make men dizzy
+that some shal stagger & stumble vp & downe the
+streetes till they haue stolne a nappe to quiet their
+braines. Ach in the shoulders shal raine amongest
+diuerse women that haue shrewes to their husbands,
+and diuerse drunken men shall be pestured with
+surfets. Maidens this winter shall haue strange
+stitches & gripings / of the collicke, which diseases
+proceed by too much lying vpright: and men shall
+be troubled with such paine in the eies, that they
+shall not know their owne wiues from other women,
+with coughs, rumes, and itchings, which I omit.
+
+
+_Of the Spring time._
+
+Winter being finished with the last grade of the
+watry signe Pisces, at the Suns ioyful progresse into
+the first degree of Aries. The second quarter of our
+vsuall yere commonly called the spring c[=o]meth next,
+which beginneth when grasse begins to sproute, &
+trees to bud. But to treat of this present season,
+forasmuch as I find the planets to be contradictorily
+disposed, in signs & mansi[=o]s of diuerse & repugnant
+qualities, I gather that this spring will be
+very il for schollers, for they shal studie much and
+gain litle, they shal haue more wit in their heads
+then money in their purses, dunces shal proue more
+welthie then diuers doctors, insomuch that sundrie
+vnlettered fooles should creep into the ministerie, if
+the prouident care of good Bishops did not preuent
+th[=e]. And by the opinion of Proclus, women are like
+to grow wilful, & so variable, that they shall laugh
+& weepe, and all with a winde: Butchers shal sell /
+their meate as deare as they can, and if they be not
+carefull, horne beastes shall bee hurtfull vnto them,
+and some shall bee so wedded to swines flesh, that
+they shall neuer be without a sowe in their house as
+long as they liue. This spring, or vernall resolution
+being naturally hot and moist, is like to be verie
+forwarde for sprouting fieldes and blooming trees,
+and because Saturne is in his proper mansion, olde
+men are like to bee froward, and craftie knaues shall
+neede no Brokers, vsurie shalbe called good husbandrie,
+and men shalbe counted honest by their
+wealth, not by their vertues. And because Aquarius
+has somthing to do wt this quarter, it is to be
+doubted that diuers springs of water will rise vp in
+vintners sellers, to the great weakning of their Gascon
+wine, & the vtter ruine of the ancient order of the
+redde noses. March Beere shalbe more esteemed
+than small Ale.
+
+Out of the old stocke of heresie, this spring it is
+to be feared, will bloome new scismaticall opinions
+and strange sects, as Brownists, Barowists, & such
+balductum deuises, to the great hinderance of the
+vnitie of the Church, & confusion of the true faith,
+if the learned doctor sir T. Tiburne be not taskte to
+confute such vpstart companions, with his plain &
+dunstable philosophie. Cancer is bu/sie in this
+springtide, and therefore it is like that florishing
+bloomes of yong gentlemens youth, shalbe greatly
+anoide with caterpillers, who shall intangle them in
+such statutes & recognances, that they shall crie
+out against brokers, as Jeremy did against false
+prophets. Besides, thogh this last winter nipt vp
+diuers masterles men & cut purses, yet this spring
+is like to afford one euery tearme this ten yere in
+Westminster hall: Barbers if they haue no worke
+are like to grow poore, and for that Mercury is
+c[=o]bust and many quarelles like to growe amongst
+men, lawiers shall proue rich & weare side gowns
+and large consciences, hauing theyr mouths open
+to call for fees, and theyr purses shut when they
+shoulde bestowe almes. But take heed O you generation
+of wicked Ostlers, that steale haie in the
+night from gentlemens horses, and rub their teth
+with tallow, that they may eate little when they stand
+at liuery, this I prognosticate against you, that this
+spring, which so euer of you dies, shall leaue a
+knaues carcasse in the graue behind him, and that
+they which liue shall hop a harlot in his clothes all
+the yere after. But aboue all let me not hide this
+secret from my countrymen, that Jupiter being in
+aspect with Luna, discouereth that diuers men shal
+drinke more th[=e] they bleed, & / Tailers shall steale
+nothing but what is brought vnto them, that poulters
+shall bee pestered with rotten egs, & Butchers dogs
+make libels against Lent, that affoordes no foode but
+herring cobs for their diet.
+
+Diseases incident to this quarter, as by Astrologicall
+& philosophicall coniectures I can gather,
+are these following: Prentises that haue ben fore
+beaten, shall be troubled with ach in their armes,
+and it shall be ill for such as haue fore eies, to looke
+against the Sun. The plague shall raigne mortally
+amongst poore men, that diuerse of them shal not
+be able to change a man a groate. Olde women
+that haue taken great colde, may perhaps be trobled
+with the cough, and such as haue paine in their teeth,
+shall bee grieuouslie troubled with the tooth ach. Beside,
+sicke folke shall haue worse stomackes then they
+which be whole, and men that cannot sleepe, shall
+take verie little rest: with other accidentall infirmities,
+which I doe ouerpasse.
+
+
+_A declaration of the disposition and inclination
+of the Summer quarter_.
+
+When the Sunne hath made his course through
+the vernal signs, Aries, Taurus & Gemini at his
+passage vnto the solsticiall estiuall signe Cancer.
+The third parte of an English yeere called Summer,
+taketh his beginning this yere: as Ptolomie sayth,
+the twelfth of Iune, but as my skill doth coniecture,
+it beginneth when the wether waxeth so hot that
+beggers scorne barnes and lie in the field for heate,
+and the wormes of Saint Pancredge Church build
+their bowers vnder the shadow of Colman hedge.
+The predominant qualities of this quarter is heate
+and drynesse, whereby I doe gather, that through the
+influence of Cancer, bottle Ale shall be in great
+authoritie, and wheat shall doe knightes seruice vnto
+malte. Tapsters this quarter shall be in greater
+credite than Coblers, and many shall drinke more
+then they can yearne. And yet because Mercurie is
+a signe that is nowe predominant, women shall be
+more troubled with fleas then men, and such as want
+meate shall goe supperlesse to bedde. Besides,
+this quarter great hurlie burlies are like to bee feared,
+and greate stratagems like to bee performed, thorough
+the opposition of Mars and Saturne: for Butchers
+are like to make great hauocke amongest flies, and
+beggers on Sunne shine dayes to commit great
+murthers vpon their rebellious vermine, and the
+knights of Coppersmiths hap to / doo great deedes of
+armes vpon Cuppes, Cannes, pots, glasses, and black
+iacks: not ceasing the skirmish til they are able to
+stand on their legges.
+
+Further it is to bee doubted, that because Venus
+is in the house of Loue, that Millers, Weauers, and
+Taylors shall be counted as theeuishe as they are
+knauishe: and Maides this quarter shall make
+sillyebubbes for their Louers, till some of them
+Calue with the Cowe for companye. But Iupiter in
+his exaltation presageth that diuers young Gentlemen
+shall creepe further into the Mercers Booke in a
+Moneth then they can get out in a yere: and that
+sundry fellowes in their silkes shall be appointed to
+keep Duke Humfrye company in Poules, because
+they know not wher to get their dinner abroad: if
+there be great plenty of Cherries this Summer, they
+are like to come to a penny the pound, and Costard-mongers
+this Summer shall be licenst by the Wardens
+of their hall, to weare and carry baskets of Apples on
+their heads to keepe them from the heat of the Sun.
+But Libra adust and retrograde, foretelleth that there
+is like to be a league between diuers bakers & the
+pillorye, for making their bread so light, and the Sun
+shall be so hotte, that it shall melt awaye the consciences
+of diuers couetous men, and that / by the
+meanes of Venus which is in the house of Scorpion,
+women shall bee so loue sicke, that Sumners and
+ciuil lawiers shall haue great fees thorough the aboundance
+of such sinfull clients, and diuerse spirites in
+white sheetes shall stand in Poules and other
+Churches, to make their confessions. But this by
+the waie learne of me, shomakers shall proue so
+proud that they shall refuse the name of souters,
+and the Tailer and the louse are like to fall at
+martiall variance, were it not the worshipfull company
+of the Botchers haue set downe this order, that
+he that lies in his bed while his clothes be mending,
+neede not haue a man to keepe his wardroppe. But
+amongst all, the Smithes haue put vp a supplication
+to the Alecunners, that he which goes dronke to bed,
+and as soone as hee wakes dares not carouse a hartie
+draught the next morning, shall drinke two daies
+together small Ale for his penance.
+
+This variable season is like to bring variable
+accidents, for diuerse diseases which will much
+molest the people, namely the plurisies which shall
+grieue many, that they shall haue farre more knauerie
+than they haue honestie, diuerse fluxes, and especiallie
+in poore mens purses, for they shall bee so laxatiue,
+that money shall runne out faster than / they can get
+it. The small pockes among children and great
+amongst men, infirmities in the tong, some shall doe
+nothing but lie with others, which I let pas.
+
+
+_A declaration of the inclination and disposition of
+the Autumnall or haruest quarter._
+
+Haruest and the last quarter of this yeere beginneth,
+as I coniecture, when corne is ripe. But
+for the nature of this autumnall reuolution, because
+it beginneth in Libra, I gather there shall be more
+holes open this quarter then in all the yeere beside,
+and strange euents shall chance, for knaues shall
+weare smockes, and women shall haue holes in their
+heartes, that as fast as loue creepes in at one, it shall
+runne out at another. Yet Leo being a firie signe,
+foresheweth that diuerse men shall haue their teeth
+longer then their beards, and some shal be so Sun
+burnt with sitting in the Alehouse, that their noses
+shall bee able to light a candle. Others shall for
+want of money paune their clokes, and march
+mannerly in theyr doublet and their hose. And
+some shall this yere haue barnes and yet want corn
+to put in them. Rie this yeere shall bee common
+in / England, and knaues shall be licenst to sel it by
+the pound, and he that wil not this quarter spend
+a pennie with his friende, by the counsayle of
+Albumazar, shall bee thrust quite out of all good
+companie for his labour.
+
+It may be doubted that some straunge sicknesse
+and vnknowen diseases wil happen, as hollownesse of
+the heart, that a man shall not know a knaue from
+an honest man, and vncouth consumptions of the
+lyuer, that diuerse men of good wealth shall by their
+kinde hearts spend all and die banquerouts: some
+shal be troubled with diseases in the throate, which
+cannot bee helpte without Bull the hang man plaie
+the skilfull Chyrurgion. Amongest the rest, many
+that haue faire wiues shalbe troubled with greate
+swelling in the browes, a disease as incurable as the
+goute. Some shall bee troubled with the stone, and
+seeke to cunning women to cure them of that disease,
+an infirmitie easilie amended, and the doctors
+of Bridewell did not punish such women Phisitians
+by a Statute. But the greatest disease that is to bee
+feared, is the Cataphalusie, that is to saie, good
+fellowes this yeere for want of money shall oft times
+be contented to part companie.
+
+And / thus (gentle reader) thou hast my prognostication,
+gathered by arte, and confirmed by experience,
+and therefore take it in good worth, for _Quod gratis
+grate_, and so farewell.
+
+
+
+
+VII.--THOMAS DEKKER
+
+
+(The Gull's Hornbook _is an almost famous work,
+and has, I believe, been cheaply reprinted in separate
+form of late years. It cannot, however, be too well
+known, for it is excellent in itself, and though undoubtedly
+paraphrased from the_ Grobianus _of Dedekind,
+is so adjusted to English contemporary manners as to
+be practically original_.)
+
+
+  THE GVLS
+
+  Horne-booke:
+
+  _Stultorum plena sunt omnia._
+
+  Al Sauio meza parola,
+  Basta.
+
+
+  By T. Deckar.
+
+
+  _Labore et Constantia._
+
+
+  Imprinted at London for R. S. 1609.
+
+
+_To all Guls in generall, wealth and Liberty._
+
+
+WHOM can I choose (my most worthie _Mecæn-asses_) to
+be Patrons to this labour of mine fitter th[=e] yourselues?
+Your hands are euer open, your purses neuer shut. So
+that you stand not in the _Common_ Rancke of _Dry-fisted
+Patrons_, (who giue nothing) for you giue all. Schollers,
+therefore, are as much beholden to you, as Vintners,
+Players, and Puncks are. Those three trades gaine by
+you more then Vsurers do by thirty in the hundred:
+You spend the wines of the one, you make suppers for
+the other, and change your Gold into White money with
+the third. Who is more liberall then you? who (but
+only Cittizens) are more free? Blame me not therefore,
+if I pick you out from the bunch of _Booke-takers_, to
+consecrate these fruits of my braine (which shall neuer
+die) onely to you. I know that most of you (O admirable
+_Guls_!) can neither write nor reade. A _Horne-booke_
+haue I inuented, because I would haue you well
+schooled. _Powles_ is your _Walke_; but this your Guid:
+if it lead you right, thanke me: if astray, men will
+beare with your errors, because you are _Guls_. _Farewell._
+
+T. D.
+
+
+To the Reader.
+
+_GENTLE Reader, I could willingly be content that thou
+shouldest neither be at cost to buy this booke, nor at the
+labour to reade it. It is not my ambition to bee a man
+in Print, thus euery Tearm_; Ad prælum, tanquàm ad
+prælium; _Wee should come to the Presse as we come to
+the Field (seldome). This Tree of_ Guls _was planted
+long since, but not taking roote, could neuer beare till
+now. It hath a relish of_ Grobianisme, _and tastes very
+strongly of it in the beginning: the reason thereof is,
+that, hauing translated many Bookes of that into English
+Verse, and not greatly liking the Subiect, I altred the
+Shape, and of a Dutchman fashioned a meere Englishman.
+It is a Table wherein are drawne sundry Pictures:
+the cullors are fresh; if they be well laid on, I think my
+workmanship well bestowed: if ill, so much the better,
+because I draw the pictures onely of_ Guls.
+
+T. D. /
+
+
+
+
+THE GULS HORN-BOOKE:
+
+OR
+
+_Fashions to please all sorts of Guls._
+
+
+_Prooemium_.
+
+I sing (like the cuckooe in June) to bee laught at:
+if therefore I make a scuruy noise, and that my tunes
+sound vnmusically (the Ditty being altogether lame
+in respect of the bad feete, and vnhansome in
+regard of the worme-eaten fashion) you that haue
+authority vnder the broad seale of mouldy custom, to
+be called the _gentle Audience_, set your goodly great
+hands to my pardon: or else, because I scorne to be
+vpbraided that I professe to instruct others in an Art,
+whereof I my selfe am ignorant, Doe your worst: chuse
+whether you will let my notes haue you by the eares,
+or no: hisse or giue plaudities, I care not a nut-shell
+which of either: you can neither shake our _Comick
+Theater_ with your stinking breath of hisses, nor raise
+it with the thunder-claps of your hands: vp it goes,
+_in dispetto del fato_. Ye motley is bought, and a
+coat with foure elbowes (for any one that will weare
+it) is put to making, in defiance of the seuen wise
+maisters: for I haue smelt out of the musty sheetes
+of an olde Almanacke, that (at one time or other)
+euen he that iets vpon the neatest and sprucest
+leather, euen he that talkes all _Adage_ and _Apothegme_,
+euen he that will not haue a wrinckle in his new
+Sattein suit, though his mind be vglier then his face,
+and his face so illfauouredly made, that he lookes at
+all times as if a tooth-drawer were fumbling about
+his gommes with a / thousand lame _Heteroclites_ more,
+that cozen the world with a guilt spur and a ruffled
+boote; will be all glad to fit themselues in _Will
+Sommer_ his wardrob, and be driuen (like a Flemish
+Hoy in foule weather) to slip into our Schoole, and
+take out a lesson. Tush, _Coelum petimus stultitiâ_, all
+that are chosen Constables for their wit go not to
+heauen.
+
+A fig therefore for the new-found Colledge of
+_Criticks_. You Courtiers, that do nothing but sing
+the _gamuth-a-re_ of complemental courtesie, and at the
+rusticall behauiour of our Countrie Muse, will screw
+forth worse faces then those which God and the
+Painter has bestowed vpon you, I defie your perfumd
+scorne: and vow to poyson your Muske cats,
+if their ciuet excrement doe but once play with my
+nose. You _ordinary Gulles_, that through a poore
+and silly ambition to be thought you inherit the
+reuenues of extraordinary wit, will spend your shallow
+censure vpon the most elaborate Poeme so lauishly,
+that all the painted table-men about you, take you
+to be heires apparent to rich _Midasse_, that had
+more skill in _alchimy_ then _Kelly_ with the Phylosophers
+stone; (for all that he could lay his fingers
+on, turned into beaten gold) dry Tobacco with my
+leaues (you good dry brained _polipragmonists_) till
+your pipe offices smoake with your pittifully stinking
+girds shot out against me. I coniure you (as you
+come of the right _goose-caps_) staine not your house;
+but when at a new play you take vp the twelue-penny
+roome next the stage; (because the Lords and you
+may seeme to be haile fellow wel-met) there draw
+forth this booke, read alowd, laugh alowd, and play
+the _Antickes_, that all the garlike mouthd stinkards
+may cry out, _Away with the fool_. As for thee, Zoylus,
+goe hang thy selfe: and for thee _Momus_, chew
+nothing but hemlock, and spit nothing but the sirrup
+of _Aloes_ vpon my papers, till thy very rotten lungs
+come forth for anger. I am Snake-proofe: and,
+though, with _Hanniball_, you bring whole hogs-heads
+of vinegar-railings, it is impossible for you to quench
+or come ouer my _Alpine-resolution_: I will faile boldly
+and desperately alongst the shore of ye Ile of _Guls_;
+and in defiance of those terrible blockhouses, their
+loggerheads, make a true discouery of their wild (yet
+habitable) Country.
+
+Sound an Allarum therefore (O thou my couragious
+Muse) and, like a Dutch cryer, make proclamation
+with thy Drum: the effect of thine O-_yes_ being,
+That if any man, woman or child, be he Lord, be he
+Lowne, be he Courtier, be he Carter of ye Innes of
+Court, or Innes of Citty, that, hating from the
+bottome of his heart, all good manners and generous
+education, is really in loue, or rather doates on that
+excellent country lady, _Innocent Simplicity_, being the
+first, fairest, and chiefest Chamber-maide that our
+great _grandame Eue_ entertained into seruice: Or if
+any person aforesaid, longing to make a voyage in
+the Ship of Fooles, would venture all the wit that his
+mother left him, to liue in the country of _Guls_,
+_cockneyes_, and _coxcombs_; to the intent that, ha[=u]ting
+_theaters_, he may sit there, like a popiniay, onely to
+learne play-speeches, which afterward may furnish
+ye necessity of his bare knowledge, to maintaine
+table talke, or else, beating _tauernes_, desires to take
+the _Bacchanalian_ degrees, and to write himselfe _in
+arte bibendi magister_; that at ordinaries would sit
+like Biasse, and in the streets walk like a braggart,
+that on foote longs to goe like a French Lacque, and
+on horsebacke rides like an English Tailor, or that
+from seuen yeares and vpward, till his dying day,
+has a monethes mind to haue ye _Guls Hornebooke_
+by hearte; by which in time he may be promoted to
+serue any Lord in _Europe_, as his crafty foole, or his
+bawdy Jester, yea and to be so deere to his Lordship,
+as for the excellency of his fooling, to be admitted
+both to ride in Coach with him, and to lie at his
+very feete on a truckle-bed. Let all such (and I
+hope the world has not left her olde fashions, but
+there are ten thousand such) repaire hither. Neuer
+knocke (you that striue to be Ninny-hammer), but
+with your feete spurne open the doore, and enter
+into our Schoole: you shall not neede to buy
+bookes, no, scorne to distinguish a B from a battle
+doore; onely looke that your eares be long enough
+to reach our _Rudiments_, and you are made for euer.
+It is by heart that I would haue you con my lessons,
+and therefore be sure to haue most deuouring
+stomaches. Nor be you terrified with an opinion,
+that our _rules_ be hard and indigestible, or that you
+shall neuer be good _Graduates_ in these rare sciences
+of _Barbarisme_, and Idiotisme. Oh fie, vppon any
+man that carries that vngodly minde! Tush, tush;
+_Tarleton_, _Kemp_, nor _Singer_, nor all the litter of Fooles
+that now come drawling behinde them, neuer played
+the clownes more naturally then the arrantest Sot of
+you all shall if hee will but boyle my Instructions in
+his braine-pan.
+
+And lest I my selfe, like some _pedantical Vicar_
+stammering out a most false and crackt latine oration
+to maister _Maior_ of the towne and his brethren,
+should cough and hem in my deliueries; by which
+meanes you (my Auditors) should be in danger to
+depart more like woodcockes then when you came
+to me: O thou venerable father of antient (and
+therefore hoary) customes, _Syluanus_, I inuoke thy
+assistance; thou that first taughtest Carters to weare
+hob-nailes, and Lobs to play Christmas gambols, and
+to shew the most beastly horse-trickes: O do thou,
+or (if thou art not at leasure) let thy Mountibancke,
+goat-footed _Fauni_, inspire me with the knowledge of
+all those silly and ridiculous fashions, which the old
+dunsticall world woare euen out at elbowes; draw
+for me the pictures of the most simple fellowes then
+liuing, that by their patterns I may paint the like.
+Awake thou noblest drunkerd _Bacchus_, thou must
+likewise stand to me (if at least thou canst for reeling),
+teach me (you soueraigne skinker) how to take
+the _Germanies vpsy freeze_, the Danish _Rowsa_, the
+Switzers stoap of _Rhenish_, the _Italians Parmizant_,
+the Englishmans healthes, his hoopes, cans, halfecans,
+Gloues, Frolicks, and flapdragons, together with the
+most notorious qualities of the truest tospots, as
+when to cast, when to quarrell, when to fight, and
+where to sleepe: hide not a drop of thy moist
+mystery from me (thou plumpest swil-bowle), but
+(like an honest red-nosed wine-bibber) lay open all
+thy secrets, and ye mystical _Hieroglyphick_ of _Rashers_
+a' th' coales, _Modicums_ and _shooing-hornes,_ and why
+they were inuented, for what occupations, and when
+to be vsed. Thirdly (because I will haue more then
+two strings to my bow) _Comus_, thou Clarke of
+_Gluttonies_ kitchen, doe thou also bid me proface,
+and let me not rise from table, till I am perfect in
+all the generall rules of _Epicures_ and _Cormorants_.
+Fatten thou my braines, that I may feede others,
+and teach them both how to squat downe to their
+meat, and how to munch so like Loobies, that the
+wisest _Solon_ in the world, shall not be able to take
+them for any other. If there be any strength in
+thee, thou beggerly Monarche of _Indians_, and setter-vp
+of rotten-lungd chimneysweepers (_Tobacco_), I beg
+it at thy smoaky hands: make me thine adopted
+heire, that, inheriting the vertues of thy whiffes, I
+may / distribute them amongst all nations, and make
+the phantastick _Englishmen_ (aboue the rest) more
+cunning in the distinction of thy _Rowle Trinidado_,
+_Leafe_, and _Pudding_, then the whitest toothd Blackamoore
+in all _Asia_. After thy pipe, shal ten thousands
+be taught to daunce, if thou wilt but discouer to me
+the sweetnesse of thy snuffes, with the manner of
+spawling, slauering, spetting and driueling in all
+places, and before all persons. Oh what songs will
+I charme out, in praise of those valiantly-strong-stinking
+breaths, which are easily purchased at thy
+hands, if I can but get thee to trauell through my nose.
+All the foh's in the fairest Ladies mouth, that euer
+kist Lord, shall not fright me from thy browne presence:
+for thou art humble, and from the Courts of
+Princes hast vouchsafed to be acquainted with penny
+galleries, and (like a good-fellow) to be drunke for
+company, with Water-men, Carmen, and Colliers;
+whereas before, and so still, Knights and wise Gentlemen
+were, & are thy companions. Last of all,
+thou Lady of Clownes and Carters, Schoolmistres of
+fooles and wiseacres, thou homely (but harmelesse)
+_Rusticity_, Oh breath thy dull and dunsticall spirit
+into our ganders quill; crowne me thy Poet, not with
+a garland of Bayes (Oh no! the number of those
+that steale _lawret_ is too monstrous already) but
+swaddle thou my browes with those unhansome
+boughes, which, (like _Autums_ rotten haire), hang
+dangling ouer thy dusty eye-lids. Helpe me (thou
+midwife of vnmannerlinesse) to be deliuered of this
+_Embryon_ that lies tumbling in my braine: direct me
+in this hard and dangerous voyage, that being safely
+arriued on the desired shore, I may build up Altars
+to thy _Vnmatcheable Rudeness_; the excellency whereof
+I know will be so great, that _Grout-nowles_ and
+_Moames_ will in swarmes fly buzzing about thee. So
+_Herculean_ a labour is this, that I vndertake, that I
+am enforced to ball out for all your succours, to the
+intent I may aptly furnish this feast of _Fooles_, vnto
+which I solemnely inuite all the world; for at it shall
+sit not only those whom _Fortune_ fauours, but euen
+those whose wits are naturally their owne. Yet
+because your artificiall fooles beare away the bell, all
+our best workmanship (at this time) shall be spent to
+fashion such a Creature.
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+The old world, & the new weighed together: the Tailors of
+those times, and these compared: the apparell, and dyet of
+our first fathers.
+
+Good cloathes are the embrodred trappings of pride,
+and good cheere the very _eringo-roote_ of gluttony: so
+that fine backes, and fat bellyes are Coach-horses to
+two of the seuen deadly sins: In the bootes of which
+Coach, _Lechery_ and _Sloth_ sit like the waiting-maide.
+In a most desperate state therefore doe Taylors, and
+Cookes stand, by meanes of their offices: for both
+those trades are Apple-squires to that couple of
+sinnes. The one inuents more phantasticke fashions,
+then Fraunce hath worne since her first stone was
+laid; the other more lickerish _epycurean_ dishes, then
+were euer serud vp to _Gallonius_ table. Did man
+(thinke you) come wrangling into the world, about no
+better matters, then all his lifetime to make priuy
+searches in Burchin lane for Whalebone doublets, or
+for pies of _Nightingale_ tongues in _Heliogabalus_ his
+kitchin? No, no, the first suit of apparell, that euer
+mortall man put on, came neither from the Mercers
+shop nor the Merchants warehouse: _Adams_ bill
+would haue beene taken then, sooner then a Knights
+bond now; yet was hee great in no bodies bookes
+for satten and veluets: the silkwormes had something
+else to do in those dayes, then to set vp loomes,
+and be free of the weauers: his breeches were not so
+much worth as K. _Stephens_, that cost but a poore
+noble: for _Adams_ holyday hose and doublet were of
+no better stuffe then plaine fig-leaues, and _Eues_ best
+gowne of the same peece: there went but a paire of
+sheeres betweene them. An _Antiquary_ in this towne,
+has yet some of the powder of those leaues dryed to
+shew. Taylors then were none of the twelue Companies:
+their Hall, that now is larger then some
+Dorpes among the _Netherlands_, was then no bigger
+then a Dutch Butchers shop: they durst not strike
+downe their customers with large billes: _Adam_ cared
+not an apple-paring for all their lousy hems. There
+was then neither the _Spanish_ slop, nor the Skippers
+galligaskin: the _Switzers_ blistred Cod-piece, nor the
+_Danish_ sleeue sagging / down like a Welch wallet, the
+_Italians_ close strosser, nor the French standing
+coller: your trebble-quadruple _Dædalian_ ruffes, nor
+your stiffenecked _rebatoes_ (that haue more arches for
+pride to row vnder, then can stand vnder fiue London
+Bridges) durst not then set themselues out in print:
+for the patent for starch could by no meanes be
+signd. Fashions then was counted a disease, and
+horses dyed of it: But now (thankes to folly) it is
+held the onely rare phisicke, and the purest golden
+Asses liue vpon it.
+
+As for the dyet of that _Saturnian_ age, it was like
+their attire, homely: A sallad, and a messe of leeke
+porridge, was a dinner for a farre greater man then
+euer the _Turke_ was: Potato-pies, and Custards,
+stood like the sinfull suburbs of Cookery, and had
+not a wall (so much as a handfull hie) built rownd
+about them. There were no daggers then, nor no
+Chayres. _Crookes_ his ordinary, in those parsimonious
+dayes, had not a Capons-leg to throw at a dog.
+Oh golden world, the suspicious _Venecian_ carued not
+his meate with a siluer pitch-forke, neither did the
+sweet-toothd Englishman shift a dozen of trenchers
+at one meale. Peirs ploughman layd the cloth, and
+Simplicity brought in the voyder. How wonderfully
+is the world altered? and no maruell, for it has lyein
+sicke almost fiue thousand yeares: So that it is no
+more like the old _Theater du munde_, than old _Paris_
+garden is like the Kings garden at _Paris_.
+
+What an excellent workeman therefore were he
+that could cast the Globe of it into a new mould:
+And not to make it look like _Mullineux_ his Globe,
+with a round face sleekt and washt ouer with whites
+of egges; but to haue it _in Plano_, as it was at first,
+with all the ancient circles, lines, paralels, and figures,
+representing indeede, all the wrinckles, crackes,
+creuises and flawes that (like the Mole on _Hattens_
+cheek, being _os amoris_,) stuck vpon it at the first
+creation, and made it looke most louely; but now
+those furrowes are filled vp with Ceruse, and Vermilion;
+yet all will not doe, it appeares more vgly.
+Come, come, it would be but a bald world, but that
+it weares a periwig. The body of it is fowle (like a
+birding-peece) by being too much heated: the breath
+of it stinks like the mouthes of Chambermaides by
+feeding on so many sweat meats. And, though to
+purge it wil be a sorer labour then the clensing / of
+_Augeaes_ stable, or the scowring of Mooreditch: yet,
+_Ille ego, qui quondam_; I am the _Pasquille madcap_,
+that will doot.
+
+Draw neere therefore, all you that loue to walke
+vpon single and simple soules, and that wish to keepe
+company with none but Innocents, and the sonnes of
+ciuill Citizens, out with your tables, and naile your
+eares (as it were to the pillary) to the _musique_ of our
+instructions: nor let ye title _Gullery_, fright you fr[=o]
+schoole: for marke what an excellent ladder you are
+to clime by. How many worthy, and men of famous
+memory (for their learning of all offices, from the
+scauenger and so vpward) haue flourished in London
+of ye ancient familie of ye _Wiseacres_, being now
+no better esteemd then fooles and yonger brothers?
+This geare must be lookt into, lest in time (O lamentable
+time, when that houre-glasse is turned vp) a rich
+mans sonne shall no sooner peepe out of the shell of
+his minority but he shall straightwaies be begd for a
+concealement, or set vpon (as it were, by free-booters)
+and tane in his owne purse-nets by fencers and cony-catchers.
+To driue which pestilent infection from
+the heart, heeres a medicine more potent, and more
+precious, than was euer that mingle-mangle of drugs
+which _Mithrydates_ boyld together. Feare not to tast
+it: a cawdle will not goe downe halfe so smoothly as
+this will: you neede not call the honest name of it in
+question, for Antiquity puts off his cap, and makes a
+bare oration in praise of the vertues of it: the _Receipt_
+hath beene subscribed vnto, by all those that haue
+had to doe with _Simples_, with this moth-eaten _Motto,
+Probatum est_: your _Diacatholicon aureum_, that with
+gun-powder brings threaten[ing]s to blow vp all diseases
+that come in his way, and smels worse then
+_Assafætida_ in respect of this. You therefore whose
+bodyes, either ouerflowing with the corrupt humours
+of this ages phantasticknesse, or else being burnt
+vp with the infl[=a]mation of vpstart fashions, would
+faine be purgd: and to shew that you truly loath this
+polluted and mangy-fisted world, turne Timonists,
+not caring either for men or their maners. Doe
+you pledge me, spare not to take a deepe draught of
+our homely councel. The cup is full, and so large,
+that I boldly drinke a health vnto all commers. /
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+How a young Gallant shall not onely keepe his clothes (which
+many of them can hardly doe for Brokers) but also saue the
+charges of taking physicke; with other rules for the morning,
+the praise of Sleepe, and of going naked.
+
+You haue heard all this while nothing but the _Prologue_,
+and seene no more but a dumbe shew: Our
+_vetus Comædia_ steps out now. The fittest stage vpon
+which you (that study to be an Actor there) are first
+to present your selfe is (in my approued judgement)
+the softest and largest Downe-bed: from whence (if
+you will but take sound councell of your pillow) you
+shall neuer rise, till you heare it ring noone at least.
+Sleep, in the name of _Morpheus_, your bellyfull, or
+(rather) sleepe till you heare your belly grombles and
+waxeth empty. Care not for those coorse painted
+cloath rimes, made by ye Uniuersity of _Salerne_, that
+come ouer you, with
+
+_Sit breuis, aut nullus, tibi somnus meridianus._
+
+Short let thy sleepe at noone be,
+Or rather let it none be.
+
+Sweete candied councell, but theres rats-bane
+vnder it: trust neuer a Bachiler of Art of them all,
+for he speakes your health faire, but to steale away
+the maidenhead of it: _Salerne_ stands in the luxurious
+country of _Naples_, and who knowes not that the
+_Neapolitan_, will (like _Derick_ the hangman) embrace
+you with one arme, and rip your guts with the other?
+theres not a haire in his mustachoo, but if he kisse
+you, will stabbe you through the cheekes like a
+ponyard: the slaue, to be auenged on his enemy,
+will drink off a pint of poison himselfe so that he
+may be sure to haue the other pledge him but halfe
+so much. And it may be, that vpon some secret
+grudge to worke the generall destruction of all mankinde,
+those verses were composed. _Phisisians_, I
+know (and none else) tooke vp the bucklers in their
+defence, railing bitterly vpon that venerable and
+princely custom of _long-lying-abed_: Yet, now I remember
+me, I cannot blame them; for / they which
+want sleepe (which is mans naturall rest) become
+either mere _Naturals_, or else fall into the Doctors
+hands, and so consequently into the Lords: whereas
+he that snorts profoundly scornes to let _Hippocrates_
+himselfe stand tooting on his Urinall, and thereby
+saues that charges of a groates worth of Physicke: And
+happy is that man that saues it; for phisick is _Non
+minus venefica, quam benefica_, it hath an ounce of gall
+in it, for euery dram of hony. Ten _Tyburnes_ cannot
+turne men ouer ye perch so fast as one of these
+brewers of purgations: the very nerues of their practise
+being nothing but _Ars Homicidiorum_, an Art to
+make poore soules kicke vp their heeles. In so much,
+that euen their sicke grunting patients stand in more
+danger of M. Doctor and his drugs, then of all the
+Cannon shots which the desperate disease it selfe
+can discharge against them. Send them packing
+therefore, to walke like _Italian Mountebankes_, beate
+not your braines to vnderstand their parcell-greeke,
+parcell-latine gibrish: let not all their sophisticall
+buzzing into your eares, nor their _Satyricall_ canuassing
+of feather-beds and tossing men out of their
+warme blanckets, awake you till the houre that heere
+is prescribed.
+
+For doe but consider what an excellent thing
+sleepe is: It is so inestimable a Jewel, that, if a
+Tyrant would giue his crowne for an houres slumber,
+it cannot be bought: of so beautifull a shape is it, that
+though a man lye with an Empresse, his heart cannot
+be at quiet, till he leaues her embracements to be at
+rest with the other: yea, so greatly indebted are we
+to this kinseman of death, that we owe the better
+tributary, halfe of our life to him: and thers good
+cause why we should do so: for sleepe is that golden
+chaine that ties health and our bodies together.
+Who complains of want? of woundes? of cares? of
+great mens oppressions, of captiuity? whilest he
+sleepeth? Beggers in their beds take as much pleasure
+as Kings: can we therefore surfet on this delicate
+_Ambrosia_? can we drink too much of that whereof
+to tast too little tumbles vs into a church-yard, and to
+vse it but indifferently, throwes vs into Bedlam? No,
+no, looke vppon _Endymion_, the Moones Minion, who
+slept threescore and fifteene yeares, and was not a
+haire the worse for it. Can lying abedde till noone
+then (being not the threescore and fifteenth thousand
+part of his nap) be hurtfull?
+
+Besides, by the opinion of all Phylosophers and
+Physitians, it is not good to trust the aire with our
+bodies / till the Sun with his flame-coloured wings,
+hath fand away the mistie smoake of the morning,
+and refind that thicke tobacco-breath which the
+rheumaticke night throwes abroad of purpose to put
+out the eye of the Element: which worke questionlesse
+cannot be perfectly finished, till the sunnes
+Car-horses stand prancing on the very top of highest
+noon: so that then (and not till then) is the most
+healthfull houre to be stirring. Do you require
+examples to perswade you? At what time do Lords
+and Ladies vse to rise, but then? your simpring
+Merchants wiues are the fairest lyers in the world:
+and is not eleuen a clocke their common houre?
+they finde (no doubt) vnspeakable sweetnesse in such
+lying, else they would not day by day put it so in
+practise. In a word, midday slumbers are golden;
+they make the body fat, the skin faire, the flesh
+plump, delicate and tender; they set a russet colour
+on the cheekes of young women, and make lusty
+courage to rise vp in men; they make vs thrifty, both
+in sparing victuals (for breakefasts thereby are savd
+from the hell-mouth of the belly) and in preseruing
+apparell; for while wee warm us in our beds, our
+clothes are not worne.
+
+The casements of thine eyes being then at this
+commendable time of the day, newly set open, choose
+rather to haue thy wind-pipe cut in peeces then to
+salute any man. Bid not good-morrow so much as
+to thy father, tho he be an Emperour. An idle
+ceremony it is, and can doe him little good; to
+thy selfe it may bring much harme: for if he be a
+wise man that knowes how to hold his peace, of
+necessity must he be counted a foole that cannot
+keep his tongue.
+
+Amongst all the wild men that runne vp and
+downe in this wide forest of fooles (the world) none
+are more superstitious then those notable _Ebritians_,
+the Jewes: yet a Jewe neuer weares his cap threed-bare
+with putting it off: neuer bends i' th' hammes
+with casting away a leg: neuer cries _God saue you_,
+tho he sees the Diuell at your elbow. Play the Jewes
+therefore in this, and saue thy lips that labour, onely
+remember, that so soone as thy eyelids be vnglewd,
+thy first exercise must be (either sitting vpright on
+thy pillow, or rarely loling at thy bodies whole length)
+to yawne, to stretch,--and to gape wider then any oyster-wife:
+for thereby thou doest not onely send out the
+liuely spirits (like vaunt-currers) to fortifie and make
+good the vttermost borders of the body; but also (as
+a cunning painter) thy goodly lineaments are drawne
+out in their fairest proportion.
+
+This lesson being playd, turne ouer a new leafe,
+and (vnlesse that Freezeland Curre, cold winter, offer
+to bite thee) walke awhile vp and downe thy chamber,
+either in thy thin shirt onely, or else (which, at a bare
+word, is both more decent and more delectable) strip
+thy selfe stark naked. Are we not borne so? and
+shall a foolish custome make vs to breake the lawes
+of our Creation? our first parents, so long as they
+went naked, were suffered to dwell in paradice, but,
+after they got coates to their backes, they were turnd
+out of doores. Put on therefore either no apparel
+at all, or put it on carelessly: for looke how much
+more delicate libertie is then bondage, so much is
+the loosenesse in wearing of our attire aboue the
+imprisonment of being neatly and Tailor-like drest vp
+in it. To be ready in our clothes, is to be ready
+for nothing else. A man lookes as if hee be hung
+in chaines; or like a scarcrow: and as those excellent
+birds (whom _Pliny_ could neuer haue the wit to
+catch in all his sprindges) commonly called woodcocks
+(whereof there is great store in England) hauing
+all their feathers pluckt from their backes, and being
+turnd out as naked as _Platoes_ cocke was before all
+_Diogenes_ his Schollers: or as the Cuckooe in Christmas,
+are more fit to come to any Knights board, and
+are indeede more seruiceable then when they are
+lapt in their warme liueries: euen so stands the case
+with man. Truth (because the bald-pate her father
+_Time_ has no haire to couer his head) goes (when she
+goes best) starke naked; But falshood has euer a
+cloake for the raine. You see likewise, that the Lyon,
+being the king of beasts, the horse, being the lustiest
+creature, the Vnicorne, whose horne is worth halfe a
+City; all these go with no more clothes on their
+backes, then what nature hath bestowed vpon them:
+But your babiownes, and you[r] Jackanapes (being
+the scum and rascality of all the hedge-creepers) they
+go in ierkins and mandilions: marry how? They are
+put into their rags onely in mockery.
+
+Oh beware therefore both what you weare, and
+how you weare / it, and let this heauenly reason moue
+you neuer to be hansome, for, when the sunne is
+arising out of his bed, does not the element seeme
+more glorious, then (being onely in gray) then at
+noone, when hees in all his brauery? it were madnesse
+to deny it. What man would not gladly see a
+beautifull woman naked, or at least with nothing but
+a lawne, or some loose thing ouer her; and euen
+highly lift her vp for being so? Shall wee then abhorre
+that in our selues which we admire and hold to be
+so excellent in others?   _Absit._
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+How a yong Gallant should warme himself by the fire; how
+attire himself: The description of a mans head: the praise
+of long haire.
+
+But if (as it often happens vnlesse the yeare catch
+the sweating sicknesse) the morning, like charity waxing
+cold, thrust his frosty fingers into thy bosome,
+pinching thee black and blew (with her nailes made
+of yce) like an inuisible goblin, so that thy teeth (as
+if thou wert singing prick-song) stand coldly quauering
+in thy head, and leap vp and downe like the
+nimble Iackes of a paire of Virginals: be then as
+swift as a whirle-winde, and as boystrous in tossing
+all thy cloathes in a rude heape together: With which
+bundle filling thine armes, steppe brauely forth,
+crying: _Room, what a coyle keepe you about the fire?_
+The more are set round about it, the more is thy
+commendation, if thou either bluntly ridest ouer their
+shoulders, or tumblest aside their stooles to creepe
+into the chimney-corner: there toast thy body, till
+thy scorched skinne be speckled all ouer, being staind
+with more motley colours then are to be scene on the
+right side of the rainebow.
+
+Neither shall it be fit for the state of thy health,
+to put on thy Apparell, till by sitting in that hothouse
+of the chimney, thou feelest the fat dew of thy
+body (like basting) run trickling down thy sides: for
+by that meanes thou maist lawfully boast that thou
+liuest by the sweat of thy browes.
+
+As / for thy stockings and shoos, so weare them,
+that all men may point at thee, and make thee
+famous by that glorious name of a _Male-content_. Or,
+if thy quicksiluer can runne so farre on thy errant, as
+to fetch thee bootes out of S. Martens, let it be thy
+prudence to haue the tops of them wide as ye mouth
+of a wallet, and those with fringed boote-hose ouer
+them to hang downe to thy ankles. Doues are
+accounted innocent, and louing creatures: thou, in
+obseruing this fashion, shalt seeme to be a rough-footed
+doue, and be held as innocent. Besides, the
+strawling, which of necessity so much lether between
+thy legs must put thee into, will be thought not to grow
+from thy disease, but from that gentleman-like habit.
+
+Hauing thus apparelled thee from top to toe,
+according to that simple fashion, which the best
+_Goose-caps_ in _Europe_ striue to imitate, it is now high
+time for me to haue a blow at thy head, which I will
+not cut off with sharp documents, but rather set it on
+faster, bestowing vpon it such excellent caruing, that,
+if all the wise men of _Gottam_ should lay their heades
+together, their Jobbernowles should not bee able to
+compare with thine.
+
+To maintaine therefore that sconce of thine,
+strongly guarded, and in good reparation, neuer
+suffer combe to fasten his teeth there: let thy haire
+grow thick and bushy like a forrest, or some wildernesse;
+lest those sixe-footed creatures that breede in
+it, and are Tenants to that crowne-land of thine, bee
+hunted to death by euery base barbarous _Barber_;
+and so that delicate, and tickling pleasure of scratching,
+be vtterly taken from thee: For the _Head_ is a
+house built for _Reason_ to dwell in; and thus is the
+tenement framed. The two Eyes are the glasse
+windowes, at which light disperses itself into euery
+roome, hauing goodly penthouses of haire to ouershadow
+them: As for the nose, tho some (most
+iniuriously and improperly) make it serue for an
+_Indian_ chimney, yet surely it is rightly a bridge with
+two arches, vnder which are neat passages to conuey
+as well perfumes to aire and sweeten euery chamber,
+as to carry away all noisome filth that is swept out of
+vncleane corners: the cherry lippes open, like the
+new-painted gates of a Lord Mayor's house, to take
+in prouision. The tongue is a bell, hanging iust
+vnder the middle of the roofe; and / lest it should be
+rung out too deepe (as sometimes it is when women
+haue a peale) whereas it was cast by the first founder,
+but onely to tole softly, there are two euen rowes of
+Iuory pegs (like pales) set to keep it in. The eares
+are two Musique roomes, into which as well good
+sounds as bad, descend downe two narrow paire of
+staires, that for all the world haue crooked windings
+like those that lead to the top of Powles steeple;
+and, because when the tunes are once gotten in, they
+should not too quickly slip out, all the walles of both
+places are plaistered with yellow wax round about
+them. Now, as the fairest lodging, tho it be furnisht
+with walles, chimnies, chambers, and all other parts
+of Architecture, yet, if the seeleing be wanting, it
+stands subiect to raine, and so consequently to ruine.
+So would this goodly palace, which wee haue moddeld
+out vnto you, be but a cold and bald habitation,
+were not the top of it rarely couered. Nature therfore
+has plaid the Tyler, and giuen it a most curious
+couering, or (to speake more properly) she has thatcht
+it all ouer, and that _Thatching_ is haire. If then thou
+desirest to reserue that Fee-simple of wit (thy head)
+for thee and the lawfull heires of thy body, play
+neither the scuruy part of the Frenchman, that pluckes
+vp all by ye rootes, nor that of the spending Englishman,
+who, to maintaine a paltry warren of vnprofitable
+Conies, disimparkes the stately swift-footed wild
+Deere: But let thine receiue his full growth, that
+thou maiest safely and wisely brag 'tis thine owne
+_Bush-Naturall_.
+
+And with all consider that, as those trees of
+cobweblawne (wouen by Spinners the fresh May-mornings)
+doe dresse the curled heads of the mountaines,
+and adorne the swelling bosomes of the
+valleyes: Or, as those snowy fleeces, which the naked
+bryer steales from the innocent nibbling sheep, to
+make himselfe a warm winter liuery, are to either of
+them both an excellent ornament: So make thou
+account, that to haue fethers sticking heere and there
+on thy head, will embellish, and set thy crowne out
+rarely. None dare vpbraid thee, that like a begger
+thou hast lyen on straw, or like a trauelling Pedler
+vpon musty flockes: for those feathers will rise vp as
+witnesses to choake him that sayes so, and to proue
+that thy bed was of the softest downe.
+
+When / your noblest Gallants consecrate their houres
+to their Mistresses and to Reuelling, they weare
+fethers then chiefly in their hattes, being one of the
+fairest ensignes of their brauery: But thou, a Reueller
+and a Mistris-seruer all the yeare, by wearing fethers
+in thy haire, whose length before the rigorous edge of
+any puritanicall paire of scizzers should shorten the
+breadth of a finger, let the three huswifely spinsters
+of Destiny rather curtall the thread of thy life. O no,
+long hair is the onely nette that women spread
+abroad to entrappe men in; and why should not men
+be as far aboue women in that commodity, as they
+go beyond men in others? The merry _Greekes_ were
+called [Greek: Karêchomoôntes] long-haired: loose not thou
+(being an honest _Troian_) that honour, sithence it will
+more fairely become thee. Grasse is the haire of the
+earth, which, so long as it is suffred to grow, it
+becomes the wearer, and carries a most pleasing
+colour, but when the Sunne-burnt clowne makes his
+mowes at it, and (like a Barber) shaues it off to the
+stumps, then it withers and is good for nothing but
+to be trust vp and thrown amongst Jades. How
+vgly is a bald pate? it lookes like a face wanting a
+nose; or, like ground eaten bare with the arrowes of
+Archers, whereas a head al hid in haire giues euen
+to a most wicked face a sweet proportion, and lookes
+like a meddow newly marryed to the _Spring_: which
+beauty in men the Turkes enuying, they no sooner
+lay hold on a Christian, but the first marke they set
+vpon him, to make him know hees a slaue, is to shaue
+off all his haire close to the scull. A _Mahumetan_
+cruelty therefore is it, to stuffe breeches and tennis-balles
+with that, which, when tis once lost, all the
+hare-hunters in the world may sweat their hearts out,
+and yet hardly catch it againe.
+
+You then, to whom chastity has giuen an heire
+apparant, take order that it may be apparant, and to
+that purpose, let it play openly with the lascivious
+wind, eu[=e] on the top of your shoulders. Experience
+cries out in euery Citty, that those self-same Criticall
+_Saturnists_, whose haire is shorter than their eye-brows,
+take a pride to haue their hoary beards hang
+slauering like a dozen of Foxetailes downe so low as
+their middle. But (alas) why should the chinnes and
+lippes of old men lick vp that excrement, which they
+vyolently clip away from the heads of yong men? Is
+it / because those long beesomes (their beards) with
+sweeping the soft bosomes of their beautiful yong
+wiues, may tickle their tender breasts, and make some
+amends for their maisters' vnrecoverable dulnesse?
+No, no, there hangs more at the ends of those long
+gray haires then all the world can come to the knowledge
+of. Certaine I am, that when none but the
+golden age went currant vpon earth, it was higher
+treason to clip haire, then to clip money: the combe
+and scizers were condemned to the currying of
+hackneyes: he was disfranchised for euer, that did
+but put on a Barbers apron. Man, woman, and child
+woare then haire longer then a law-suit; euery head,
+when it stood bare or uncouered, lookt like a butter-boxes
+nowle, hauing his thrumbd cap on. It was free
+for all Nations to haue shaggy pates, as it is now
+onely for the Irishman. But since this polling and
+shauing world crept vp, locks were lockt up, and
+haire fell to decay. Reuiue thou therefore the old,
+buryed fashion, and (in scorne of periwigs and sheep-shearing)
+keep thou that quilted head-peece on continually.
+Long haire will make thee looke dreadfully
+to thine enemies, and manly to thy friends. It is, in
+peace, an ornament; in warre, a strong helmet. It
+blunts the edge of a sword, and deads the leaden
+thump of a bullet. In winter, it is a warme night-cap,
+in sommer, a cooling fanne of fethers.
+
+
+CHAPTER IIII
+
+How a Gallant should behaue himselfe in Powles walkes.
+
+BEING weary with sayling vp and downe alongst these
+shores of _Barbaria_, heere let vs cast our anchors, and
+nimbly leape to land in our coasts, whose fresh aire
+shall be so much the more pleasing to vs, if the _Ninny
+hammer_ (whose perfection we labour to set forth)
+haue so much foolish wit left him as to choose the
+place where to sucke in: for that true humorous
+Gallant that desires to powre himselfe into all fashions
+(if his ambition be such to excell euen Complement
+itselfe) must as well practise to diminish his walkes,
+as to bee various in his sallets, curious in his Tobacco,
+or ingenious in the trussing vp of a new Scotch-hose:
+/ All which vertues are excellent and able to maintaine
+him, especially if the old worme-eaten Farmer (his
+father) bee dead, and left him fiue hundred a yeare,
+onely to keepe an Irish hobby, an Irish horse-boy, and
+himselfe (like a gentleman). Hee therefore that
+would striue to fashion his leggs to his silke stockins,
+and his proud gate to his broad garters, let him whiffe
+downe these obseruations; for, if he once get to
+walke by the booke (and I see no reason but he may,
+as well as fight by the booke) Powles may be proud
+of him, _Will Clarke_ shall ring forth _Encomiums_ in
+his honour, Iohn in Powles _Church-yard_, shall fit his
+head for an excellent blocke, whilest all the Innes of
+Court reioyce to behold his most hansome calfe.
+
+Your Mediterranean Ile, is then the onely gallery,
+wherein the pictures of all your true fashionate and
+complementall _Guls_ are, and ought to be hung vp:
+into that gallery carry your neat body, but take heede
+you pick out such an hour when the maine Shoale
+of Ilanders are swimming vp and downe. And first
+obserue your doores of entrance, and your _Exit_, not
+much vnlike the plaiers at the Theaters, keeping your
+_Decorums_, euen in phantasticality. As for example:
+if you proue to be a _Northerne_ Gentleman, I would
+wish you to passe through the North doore, more
+often (especially) then any of the other: and so,
+according to your countries, take note of your
+entrances.
+
+Now for your venturing into the Walke, be circumspect
+and wary what piller you come in at, and take
+heede in any case (as you loue the reputation of your
+honour) that you auoide the _Seruing-mans_ logg, and
+approch not within fiue fadom of that Piller; but
+bend your course directly in the middle line, that the
+whole body of the Church may appeare to be yours;
+where, in view of all, you may publish your suit in
+what manner you affect most, either with the slide of
+your cloake from the one shoulder, and then you
+must (as twere in anger) suddenly snatch at the
+middle of the inside (if it be taffata at the least) and
+so by that meanes your costly lining is betrayd, or
+else by the pretty aduantage of Complement. But
+one note by the way do I especially wooe you to, the
+neglect of which makes many of our Gallants cheape
+and ordinary, that by no meanes you be seene aboue
+foure turnes; but in the fift make your selfe away,
+either in some of the / Sempsters' shops, the new
+Tobacco-office, or amongst the Booke-sellers, where,
+if you cannot reade, exercise your smoake, and inquire
+who has writ against this diuine weede, &c.
+For this withdrawing your selfe a little, will much
+benefite your suit, which else, by too long walking,
+would be stale to the whole spectators: but howsoeuer
+if Powles Jacks bee once vp with their
+elbowes, and quarrelling to strike eleuen, as soone as
+euer the clock has parted them, and ended the fray
+with his hammer, let not the Dukes gallery conteyne
+you any longer, but passe away apace in open view.
+In which departure, if by chance you either encounter,
+or aloofe off throw your inquisitiue eye vpon any
+knight or Squire, being your familiar, salute him not
+by his name of Sir such a one, or so, but call him
+_Ned_, or _Jack_, &c. This will set off your estimation
+with great men: and if (tho there be a dozen companies
+betweene you, tis the better) hee call aloud to
+you (for thats most gentile), to know where he shall
+find you at two a clock, tell him at such an Ordinary,
+or such, and bee sure to name those that are deerest:
+and whither none but your Gallants resort. After
+dinner you may appeare againe, hauing translated
+yourselfe out of your English cloth cloak, into a light
+Turky-grogram (if you haue that happinesse of shifting)
+and then be seene (for a turne or two) to correct
+your teeth with some quill or siluer instrument, and
+to cleanse your gummes with a wrought handkercher:
+It skilles not whether you dinde or no (thats best
+knowne to your stomach) or in what place you dinde,
+though it were with cheese (of your owne mother's
+making) in your chamber or study.
+
+Now if you chance to be a Gallant not much crost
+among Citizens, that is, a Gallant in the Mercers
+bookes, exalted for Sattens and veluets, if you be not
+so much blest to bee crost as I hold it the greatest
+blessing in the world, to bee great in no mans
+bookes) your Powles walke is your onely refuge: the
+Dukes Tomb is a Sanctuary, and will keepe you aliue
+from wormes and land-rattes, that long to be feeding
+on your carkas: there you may spend your legs in
+winter a whole after-noone: conuerse, plot, laugh,
+and talke any thing, iest at your Creditor, euen to
+his face, and in the euening, euen by lamp-light,
+steale out, and so cozen a whole couy of abhominable
+catch-pols. Neuer / be seene to mount the steppes
+into the quire, but vpon a high Festiuall day, to
+preferre the fashion of your doublet, and especially
+if the singing-boyes seeme to take note of you: for
+they are able to buzze your praises aboue their
+_Anthems_, if their voyces haue not lost their maiden-heads:
+but be sure your siluer spurres dog your
+heeles, and then the Boyes will swarme about you
+like so many white butter-flyes, when you in the open
+Quire shall drawe forth a perfumed embrodred purse
+(the glorious sight of which will entice many Countrymen
+from their deuotion to wondering) and quoyt
+siluer into the Boyes handes, that it may be heard
+aboue the first lesson, although it be reade in a voyce
+as big as one of the great Organs.
+
+This noble and notable Act being performed, you
+are to vanish presently out of the Quire, and to
+appeare againe in the walk: But in any wise be not
+obserued to tread there long alone: for feare you be
+suspected to be a Gallant casheerd from the society
+of _Captens_ and _Fighters_.
+
+Sucke this humour vp especially. Put off to
+none, vnlesse his hatband be of a newer fashion then
+yours, and three degrees quainter: but for him that
+weares a trebled cipers about his hatte (though he
+were an Aldermans sonne) neuer moue to him: for
+hees suspected to be worse then a _Gull_, and not
+worth the putting off to, that cannot obserue the
+time of his hatband, nor know what fashioned block
+is most kin to his head: for, in my opinion, ye
+braine that cannot choose his Felt well (being the
+head ornament) must needes powre folly into all the
+rest of the members, and be an absolute confirmed
+Foole in _Summâ Totali_.
+
+All the diseased horses in a tedious siege cannot
+shew so many fashions, as are to be seene for nothing,
+euery day, in Duke _Humfryes walke_. If therefore
+you determine to enter into a new suit, warne your
+Tailor to attend you in Powles, who, with his hat in
+his hand, shall like a spy discouer the stuffe, colour,
+and fashion of any doublet, or hose that dare be seene
+there, and stepping behind a piller to fill his table-bookes
+with those notes, will presently send you into
+the world an accomplisht man: by which meanes you
+shall weare your clothes in print with the first edition.
+But / if Fortune fauour you so much as to make you
+no more then a meere country gentleman, or but
+some three degrees remoud from him (for which I
+should be very sorie, because your London-experience
+wil cost you deere before you shall haue ye wit to
+know what you are) then take this lesson along with
+you: The first time that you venture into Powles,
+passe through the body of the Church like a Porter,
+yet presume not to fetch so much as one whole turne
+in the middle Ile, no nor to cast an eye to _Si quis_
+doore (pasted and plaistered vp with Seruing-mens
+_supplications_) before you haue paid tribute to the top
+of Powles _steeple_ with a single penny: And when you
+are mounted there, take heede how you looke downe
+into the yard; for the railes are as rotten as your
+great-Grandfather; and thereupon it will not be
+amisse if you enquire how _Kit Woodroffe_ durst vault
+ouer, and what reason he had for it, to put his necke
+in hazard of reparations. From hence you may
+descend, to talke about the horse that went vp, and
+striue, if you can, to know his keeper: take the day
+of the Moneth, and the number of the steppes, and
+suffer yourselfe to belieue verily that it was not a
+horse, but something else in the likenesse of one:
+which wonders you may publish, when you returne
+into the country, to the great amazement of all
+Farmers Daughters, that will almost swound at the
+report, and neuer recouer till their banes bee asked
+twice in the Church.
+
+But I haue not left you yet. Before you come
+downe againe, I would desire you to draw your knife,
+and graue your name (or, for want of a name, the
+marke, which you clap on your sheep) in great
+Characters vpon the leades, by a number of your
+brethren (both Citizens and country Gentlemen), and
+so you shall be sure to haue your name lye in a
+coffin of lead, when yourselfe shall be wrapt in a
+winding-sheete: and indeed the top of Powles conteins
+more names then _Stowes_ Chronicle. These
+lofty tricks being plaid, and you (thanks to your
+feete) being safely ariued at the staires foote againe,
+your next worthy worke is, to repaire to my lord
+_Chancellors Tomb_ (and, if you can but reasonably
+bestow some time vpon ye reading of Sir
+_Phillip Sydneyes_ briefe Epitaph; in the compasse of
+an houre you may make shift to stumble it out. The
+great dyal is, your last monument: there bestow /
+some halfe of the threescore minutes, to obserue the
+sawciness of the Jaikes that are aboue the man in
+the moone there; the strangenesse of the motion will
+quit your labour. Besides, you may heere haue fit
+occasion to discouer your watch, by taking it forth,
+and setting the wheeles to the time of Powles, which,
+I assure you, goes truer by fiue notes then S. _Sepulchers_
+Chimes. The benefit that wil arise from hence is
+this, that you publish your charge in maintaining a
+gilded clocke; and withall the world shall know that
+you are a time-pleaser. By this I imagine you haue
+walkt your belly ful, and thereupon being weary, or
+(which rather I beleeue) being most Gentlemanlike
+hungry, it is fit that I brought you into the Duke; so
+(because he followes the fashion of great men, in
+keeping no house, and that therefore you must go
+seeke your dinner) suffer me to take you by the hand,
+and lead you into an Ordinary.
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+How a yong Gallant should behaue himselfe in an Ordinary.
+
+FIRST, hauing diligently enquired out an Ordinary of
+the largest reckoning, whither most of your Courtly
+Gallants do resort, let it be your vse to repaire thither
+some halfe houre after eleuen; for then you shàll
+find most of your fashionmongers planted in the
+roome waiting for meate. Ride thither vpon your
+galloway-nag, or your Spanish Jennet, a swift ambling
+pace, in your hose, and doublet (gilt rapier and
+poniard bestowd in their places), and your French
+Lackey carrying your cloake, and running before
+you; or rather in a coach, for that will both hide
+you from the basiliske-eyes of your creditors, and
+outrun a whole kennell of bitter-mouthed Sergeants.
+
+Being arriued in the roome, salute not any but
+those of your acquaintance: walke up and downe by
+the rest as scornfully and as carelesly as a Gentleman-Usher:
+Select some friend (hauing first throwne off
+your cloake) to walke vp and downe the room with
+you, let him be suited if you can, worse by farre then
+your selfe, he will be a foyle to you: and this will be
+a meanes to publish your clothes better than Powles,
+a Tennis-court, or a Playhouse: discourse as lowd as
+you can, no matter to what purpose if you but make
+a noise, and laugh in fashion, and haue a good sower
+face to promise quarrelling, you shall bee much
+obserued.
+
+If you be a souldier, talke how often you haue
+beene in action: as the _Portingale_ voyage, Cales
+voiage, the _Iland_ voiage, besides some eight or nine
+imploiments in Ireland, and the low Countries: then
+you may discourse how honourably your _Graue_ vsed
+you; obserue that you cal your _Graue Maurice_, your
+_Graue_: How often you haue drunk with Count such
+a one, and such a Count, on your knees to your
+_Graues_ health: and let it bee your vertue to giue
+place neither to _S. Kynock_, nor to any _Dutchman_
+whatsoeuer in the seuenteene _prouinces_, for that
+Souldiers complement of drinking. And if you perceiue
+that the vntrauelld company about you take
+this downe well, ply them with more such stuffe, as
+how you haue interpreted betweene the French King
+and a great Lord of Barbary, when they haue been
+drinking healthes together, and that will be an excellent
+occasion to publish your languages, if you haue
+them: if not, get some fragments of French, or smal
+parcels of Italian, to fling about the table: but beware
+how you speake any Latine there: your Ordinary
+most commonly hath no more to do with Latine then
+a desperate towne of Garison hath.
+
+If you be a Courtier, discourse of the obtaining
+of Suits: of your mistresses fauours, etc. Make
+inquiry, if any gentleman at boord haue any suit, to
+get which he would vse ye good means of a great
+mans Interest with the King: and withall (if you
+haue not so much grace left in you as to blush) that
+you are (thankes to your starres) in mightie credit,
+though in your owne conscience you know, and are
+guilty to your selfe, that you dare not (but onely
+vpon the priuiledges of hansome clothes) presume to
+peepe into the presence. Demand if there be any
+Gentleman (whom any there is acquainted with) that
+is troubled with two offices; or any Vicar with two
+Church-liuings; which will politickly insinuate, that
+your inquiry after them is because you haue good
+means to obtaine them; yea and rather then your
+tongue should not be heard in the roome, but that
+you should sit (like / an Asse) with your finger in your
+mouth, and speake nothing: discourse how often this
+Lady hath sent her Coach for you; and how often
+you have sweat in the Tennis-court with that great
+Lord: for indeede the sweting together in _Fraunce_
+(I mean the society of Tennis) is a great argument
+of most deere affection, euen between noblemen and
+Pesants.
+
+If you be a Poet, and come into the Ordinary
+(though it can be no great glory to be an ordinary
+Poet) order yourselfe thus. Obserue no man, doff
+not cap to that Gentleman to day at dinner, to
+whom, not two nights since, you were beholden for
+a supper; but, after a turne or two in the roome,
+take occasion (pulling out your gloues) to haue some
+_Epigram_, or _Satyre_, or _Sonnet_ fastned in one of them,
+that may (as it were vomittingly to you) offer it selfe
+to the Gentlemen: they will presently desire it: but,
+without much coniuration from them, and a pretty
+kind of counterfet loathnes in yourselfe, do not read
+it; and though it be none of your owne, sweare you
+made it. Mary, if you chaunce to get into your
+hands any witty thing of another mans, that is somewhat
+better, I would councell you then, if demand
+bee made who composed it, you may say: faith, a
+learned Gentleman, a very worthy friend. And this
+seeming to lay it on another man will be counted
+either modestie in you, or a signe that you are not
+ambitious of praise, or else that you dare not take it
+vpon you, for feare of the sharpnesse it carries with
+it. Besides, it will adde much to your fame to let
+your tongue walke faster then your teeth, though you
+be neuer so hungry, and, rather then you should sit
+like a dumb Coxcomb, to repeat by heart either some
+verses of your owne, or of any other mans, stretching
+euen very good lines vpon the rack of the censure:
+though it be against all law, honestie, or conscience,
+it may chaunce saue you the price of your Ordinary,
+and beget you other _Suppliments_. Mary, I would
+further intreat our Poet to be in league with the
+Mistresse of the Ordinary, because from her (vpon
+condition that he will but ryme knights and yong
+gentlemen to her house, and maintaine the table in
+good fooling) he may easily make vp his mouth at
+her cost, _Gratis_.
+
+Thus much for particular men. But in generall
+let all that are in _Ordinary_-pay, march after the
+sound of these directions. Before / the meate come
+smoaking to the board, our Gallant must draw out
+his Tobacco-box, the ladell for the cold snuffe into
+the nosthrill, the tongs and prining-Iron: All which
+artillery may be of gold or siluer (if he can reach to
+the price of it), it will bee a reasonable vseful pawne
+at all times, when the current of his money falles out
+to run low. And heere you must obserue to know
+in what state Tobacco is in towne, better then the
+Merchants, and to discourse of the Apottecaries
+where it is to be sold and to be able to speake of
+their wines, as readily as the Apottecary himselfe
+reading the barbarous hand of a Doctor: then let
+him shew his seuerall tricks in taking it, As the _Whiffe_,
+the _Ring_, etc. For these are complements that gaine
+Gentlemen no mean respect and for which indeede
+they are more worthily noted, I ensure you, then for
+any skill that they haue in learning.
+
+When you are set downe to dinner, you must eate
+as impudently as can be (for thats most Gentlemanlike)
+when your Knight is vpon his stewed mutton,
+be presently, though you be but a capten, in the
+bosome of your goose: and when your Justice of
+peace is knuckle-deep in goose, you may, without
+disparagement to your bloud, though you haue a
+Lady to your mother, fall very manfully to your
+woodcocks.
+
+You may rise in dinner-time to aske for a close-stoole,
+protesting to all the gentlemen that it costs you
+a hundred pounds a yeare in physicke, besides the
+Annual pension which your wife allowes her Doctor:
+and (if you please) you may (as your great French
+Lord doth) inuite some speciall friend of yours, from
+the table, to hold discourse with you as you sit in
+that withdrawing-chamber: from whence being returned
+againe to the board, you shall sharpen the
+wits of all the eating Gallants about you, and doe them
+great pleasure, to aske what Pamphlets or poems a
+man might think fittest to wipe his taile with (mary,
+this talke will be somewhat fowle if you carry not a
+strong perfume about you) and, in propounding this
+question, you may abuse the workes of any man;
+depraue his writings that you cannot equall, and purchase
+to your selfe in time the terrible name of a
+seuere _Criticke_; nay, and be one of the Colledge, if
+youle be liberall inough: and (when your turne comes)
+pay for their suppers.
+
+After / dinner, euery man as his busines leades him:
+some to dice, some to drabs, some to playes, some to
+take vp friends in the Court, some to take vp money
+in the Citty, some to lende testers in Powles, others
+to borrow crownes vpon the Exchange: and thus, as
+the people is sayd to bee a beast of many heads (yet
+all those heads like _Hydraes_) euer growing, as various
+in their hornes as wondrous in their budding and
+branching, so, in an Ordinary, you shall find the
+variety of a whole kingdome in a few Apes of the
+kingdome.
+
+You must not sweare in your dicing: for that
+Argues a violent impatience to depart from your
+money, and in time will betray a mans neede. Take
+heede of it. No! whether you be at _Primero_, or
+_Hazard_, you shall sit as patiently (though you lose a
+whole halfe-yeares exhibition) as a disarmd Gentleman
+does when hees in the vnmerciful fingers of
+Serieants. Mary, I will allow you to sweat priuatly,
+and teare six or seuen score paire of cards, be the
+damnation of some dozen or twenty baile of dice,
+and forsweare play a thousand times in an houre, but
+not sweare. Dice your selfe into your shirt: and, if
+you haue a beard that your friend wil lend but an
+angell vpon, shaue it off, and pawne that, rather then
+to goe home blinde to your lodging. Further, it is
+to be remembred, He that is a great Gamester may
+be trusted for a quarters board at all times, and
+apparell prouided, if neede be.
+
+At your tweluepenny Ordinary, you may giue any
+Iustice of peace, or yong Knight (if he sit but one
+degree towards the Equinoctiall of the Saltseller)
+leaue to pay for the wine: and hee shall not refuse
+it, though it be a weeke before the receiuing of his
+quarters rent, which is a time albeit of good hope,
+yet of present necessity.
+
+There is another Ordinary, to which your London
+Vsurer, your stale Batchilor, and your thrifty Atturney
+do resort: the price three pence: the roomes as full
+of company as a Iaile, and indeed diuided into
+seuerall wards, like the beds of an Hospital. The
+complement betweene these is not much, their words
+few: for the belly hath no eares: euery mans eie
+heere is vpon the other mans trencher, to note
+whether his fellow lurch him, or no: if they chaunce
+to discourse, it is of nothing but of _Statutes_, _Bonds_,
+/ _Recognizances_, _Fines_, _Recoueries_, _Audits_, _Rents_, _Subsidies_,
+_Surties_, _Inclosures_, Liueries, _Inditements_, _Outlaries_,
+_Feoffments_, _Iudgments_, _Commissions_, _Bankerouts_,
+_Amercements_, and of such horrible matter, that when
+a Lifetenant dines with his punck in the next roome,
+he thinkes verily the men are coniuring. I can find
+nothing at this Ordinary worthy the sitting downe
+for: therefore the cloth shall be taken away, and
+those that are thought good enough to be guests
+heere, shall be too base to bee waiters at your Grand
+Ordinary; at which your Gallant tastes these commodities.
+He shall fare wel, enioy good company,
+receiue all the newes ere the post can deliuer his
+packet, be perfect where the best bawdy-houses stand,
+proclaime his good clothes, know this man to drinke
+well, that to feed grosly, the other to swaggar roughly:
+he shall, if hee be minded to trauell, put out money
+vpon his returne, and haue hands enough to receiue
+it vpon any termes of repaiment: And no question,
+if he be poore, he shall now and then light vpon
+some _Gull_ or other, whom he may skelder (after the
+gentile fashion) of mony: By this time the parings of
+Fruit and Cheese are in the voyder, Cards and dice
+lie stinking in the fire, the guests are all vp, the guilt
+rapiers ready to be hangd, the French Lackquey,
+and Irish Footeboy, shrugging at the doores, with
+their masters hobby-horses, to ride to the new play:
+thats the _Randeuous_; thither they are gallopt in post.
+Let vs take a paire of Oares, and now lustily after
+them.
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+How a Gallant should behaue himself in a Play-house.
+
+THE theater is your Poets Royal Exchange, vpon
+which their Muses (that are now turnd to Merchants)
+meeting, barter away that light commodity of words
+for a lighter ware then words, _Plaudites_, and the
+_breath_ of the great _Beast_; which (like the threatnings
+of two Cowards) vanish all into air. _Plaiers_ and
+their _Factors_, who put away the stuffe, and make the
+best of it they possibly can (as indeed tis their parts
+so to doe), your / Gallant, your Courtier, and your
+Capten, had wont to be the soundest paymaisters;
+and I thinke are still the surest chapmen: and these,
+by meanes that their heades are well stockt, deale
+vp[=o] this comical freight by the grosse: when your
+_Groundling_, and _gallery-Commoner_ buyes his sport
+by the penny, and, like a _Hagler_, is glad to vtter it
+againe by retailing.
+
+Sithence then the place is so free in entertainment,
+allowing a stoole as well to the Farmers sonne as to
+your Templer: that your Stinkard has the selfe-same
+libertie to be there in his Tobacco-Fumes, which
+your sweet Courtier hath: and that your Car-man
+and Tinker claime as strong a voice in their suffrage,
+and sit to giue iudgement on the plaies life and
+death, as well as the prowdest _Momus_ among the
+tribe[s] of _Critick_: It is fit that hee, whom the most
+tailors bils do make roome for, when he comes,
+should not be basely (like a vyoll) casd vp in a
+corner.
+
+Whether therefore the gatherers of the publique
+or priuate Play-house stand to receiue the afternoones
+rent, let our Gallant (hauing paid it) presently
+aduance himselfe vp to the Throne of the Stage.
+I meane not into the Lords roome (which is now
+but the Stages Suburbs): No, those boxes, by the
+iniquity of custome, conspiracy of waiting-women and
+Gentlemen-Ushers, that there sweat together, and the
+couetousnes of Sharers, are contemptibly thrust into
+the reare, and much new Satten is there dambd, by
+being smothred to death in darknesse. But on the
+very Rushes where the Commedy is to daunce, yea,
+and vnder the state of _Cambises_ himselfe must our
+fethered _Estridge_, like a piece of Ordnance, be
+planted, valiantly (because impudently) beating downe
+the mewes and hisses of the opposed rascality.
+
+For do but cast vp a reckoning, what large
+cummings-in are pursd vp by sitting on the Stage.
+First a conspicuous _Eminence_ is gotten; by which
+meanes, the best and most essenciall parts of a
+Gallant (good cloathes, a proportionable legge, white
+hand, the Persian lock, and a tollerable beard) are
+perfectly reuealed.
+
+By sitting on the stage, you haue a signd patent
+to engrosse the whole commodity of Censure; may
+lawfully presume to be a Girder; and stand at the
+helme to steere the passage of _scoenes_; yet / no man
+shall once offer to hinder you from obtaining the
+title of an insolent, ouer-weening Coxcombe.
+
+By sitting on the stage, you may (without trauelling
+for it) at the very next doore aske whose play it
+is: and, by that _Quest_ of _Inquiry_, the law warrants
+you to auoid much mistaking: if you know not ye
+author, you may raile against him: and peraduenture
+so behaue your selfe, that you may enforce the Author
+to know you.
+
+By sitting on the stage, if you be a Knight, you
+may happily get you a Mistresse: if a mere _Fleet-street_
+Gentleman, a wife: but assure yourselfe, by
+continuall residence, you are the first and principall
+man in election to begin the number of _We three_.
+
+By spreading your body on the stage, and by
+being a Iustice in examining of plaies, you shall put
+your selfe into such true _scoenical_ authority, that some
+Poet shall not dare to present his Muse rudely vpon
+your eyes, without hauing first vnmaskt her, rifled
+her, and discouered all her bare and most mysticall
+parts before you at a tauerne, when you most knightly
+shal, for his paines, pay for both their suppers.
+
+By sitting on the stage, you may (with small cost)
+purchase the deere acquaintance of the boyes: haue
+a good stoole for sixpence: at any time know what
+particular part any of the infants present: get your
+match lighted, examine the play-suits lace, and perhaps
+win wagers vpon laying tis copper, &c. And
+to conclude, whether you be a foole or a Justice of
+peace, a Cuckold, or a Capten, a Lord-Maiors sonne,
+or a dawcocke, a knaue, or an vnder Sheriffe; of
+what stamp soeuer you be, currant, or counterfet, the
+Stage, like time, will bring you to most perfect light
+and lay you open: neither are you to be hunted
+from thence, though the Scarcrows in the yard hoot
+at you, hisse at you, spit at you, yea, throw durt euen
+in your teeth: tis most Gentlemanlike patience to
+endure all this, and to laugh at the silly Animals:
+but if the _Rabble_, with a full throat, crie, away with
+the foole, you were worse then a madman to tarry by
+it: for the Gentleman and the foole should neuer sit
+on the Stage together.
+
+Mary, let this obseruation go hand in hand with
+the rest: or rather, like a country-seruing-man, some
+fiue yards before them. Present / not your selfe on
+the Stage (especially at a new play) vntill the quaking
+prologue hath (by rubbing) got culor into his cheekes,
+and is ready to giue the trumpets their Cue, that hees
+vpon point to enter: for then it is time, as though
+you were one of the _properties_, or that you dropt out
+of ye _Hangings_, to creepe from behind the Arras,
+with your _Tripos_ or three-footed stoole in one hand,
+and a teston mounted betweene a forefinger and a
+thumbe in the other: for if you should bestow your
+person vpon the vulgar, when the belly of the house
+is but halfe full, your apparell is quite eaten vp, the
+fashion lost, and the proportion of your body in more
+danger to be deuoured then if it were serued vp in
+the Counter amongst the Powltry: auoid that as you
+would the Bastome. It shall crowne you with rich commendation
+to laugh alowd in the middest of the most
+serious and saddest scene of the terriblest Tragedy:
+and to let that clapper (your tongue) be tost so high,
+that all the house may ring of it: your Lords vse it;
+your Knights are Apes to the Lords, and do so too:
+your Inne-a-court-man is Zany to the Knights, and
+(mary very scuruily) comes likewise limping after it:
+bee thou a beagle to them all, and neuer lin snuffing,
+till you haue scented them: for by talking and laughing
+(like a Plough-man in a Morris) you heap _Pelion_
+vpon _Ossa_, glory vpon glory: As first, all the eyes in
+the galleries will leaue walking after the Players, and
+onely follow you: the simplest dolt in the house
+snatches vp your name, and when he meetes you in
+the streetes, or that you fall into his hands in the
+middle of a Watch, his word shall be taken for you:
+heele cry _Hees such a gallant_, and you passe.
+Secondly, you publish your temperance to the world,
+in that you seeme not to resort thither to taste vaine
+pleasures with a hungrie appetite: but onely as a
+Gentleman to spend a foolish houre or two, because
+yoe can doe nothing else: Thirdly, you mightily
+disrelish the Audience, and disgrace the Author:
+marry, you take vp (though it be at the worst hand)
+a strong opinion of your owne iudgement, and inforce
+the Poet to take pity of your weakenesse, and, by
+some dedicated sonnet, to bring you into a better
+paradice, onely to stop your mouth.
+
+If you can (either for loue or money) prouide
+your selfe a lodging by the water-side: for, aboue
+the conuenience it brings to / shun Shoulder-clapping,
+and to ship away your Cockatrice betimes in the
+morning, it addes a kind of state vnto you, to be
+carried from thence to the staires of your Playhouse:
+hate a Sculler (remember that) worse then to be
+acquainted with one o' th' Scullery. No, your Oares
+are your onely Sea-crabs, boord them, and take heed
+you neuer go twice together with one paire: often
+shifting is a great credit to Gentlemen; and that
+diuiding of your fare wil make the poore watersnaks
+be ready to pul you in peeces to enioy your custome:
+No matter whether vpon landing, you haue money or
+no: you may swim in twentie of their boates ouer
+the riuer upon _Ticket_: mary, when siluer comes in,
+remember to pay trebble their fare, and it will make
+your Flounder-catchers to send more thankes after
+you, when you doe not draw, then when you doe;
+for they know, It will be their owne another daie.
+
+Before the Play begins, fall to cardes: you may
+win or loose (as _Fencers_ doe in a prize) and beate
+one another by confederacie, yet share the money
+when you meete at supper: notwithstanding, to gul
+the _Ragga-muffins_ that stand aloofe gaping at you,
+throw the cards (hauing first torne foure or fiue of
+them) round about the Stage, iust vpon the third
+sound, as though you had lost: it skils not if the
+foure knaues ly on their backs, and outface the
+Audience; theres none such fooles as dare take
+exceptions at them, because, ere the play go off,
+better knaues than they will fall into the company.
+
+Now sir, if the writer be a fellow that hath either
+epigrammd you, or hath had a flirt at your mistris, or
+hath brought either your feather, or your red beard,
+or your little legs, &c. on the stage, you shall disgrace
+him worse then by tossing him in a blancket, or
+giuing him the bastinado in a Tauerne, if, in the
+middle of his play (bee it Pastoral or Comedy,
+Morall or Tragedie), you rise with a screwd and discontented
+face from your stoole to be gone: no
+matter whether the Scenes be good or no; the better
+they are the worse do you distast them: and, beeing
+on your feet, sneake not away like a coward, but
+salute all your gentle acquaintance, that are spred
+either on the rushes, or on stooles about you, and
+draw what troope you can from the stage after you:
+the _Mimicks_ are beholden to you, for allowing them /
+elbow roome: their Poet cries, perhaps, a pox go with
+you, but care not for that, theres no musick without
+frets.
+
+Mary, if either the company, or indisposition of
+the weather binde you to sit it out, my counsell is
+then that you turne plain Ape, take vp a rush, and
+tickle the earnest eares of your fellow gallants, to
+make other fooles fall a laughing: mewe at passionate
+speeches, blare at merrie, finde fault with the
+musicke, whew at the childrens Action, whistle at the
+songs: and aboue all, curse the sharers, that whereas
+the same day you had bestowed forty shillings on an
+embrodered Felt and Feather (scotch-fashion) for
+your mistres in the Court, or your punck in the city,
+within two houres after, you encounter with the very
+same block on the stage, when the haberdasher
+swore to you the impression was extant but that
+morning.
+
+To conclude, hoard vp the finest play-scraps you
+can get, vpon which your leane wit may most sauourly
+feede, for want of other stuffe, when the _Arcadian_
+and _Euphuizd_ gentlewomen haue their tongues
+sharpened to set vpon you: that qualitie (next to
+your shittlecocke) is the onely furniture to a Courtier
+thats but a new beginner, and is but in his A B C of
+complement. The next places that are fild, after
+the Playhouses bee emptied, are (or ought to be)
+Tauernes: into a Tauerne then let vs next march,
+where the braines of one Hogshead must be beaten
+out to make vp another.
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+How a Gallant should behaue himself in a Tauerne.
+
+WHOSOEUER desires to bee a man of good reckoning
+in the Cittie, and (like your French Lord) to haue
+as many tables furnisht as Lackies (who, when they
+keepe least, keepe none), whether he be a yong _Quat_
+of the first yeeres reuennew, or some austere and
+sullen-facd steward, who (in despight of a great beard,
+a satten suite, and a chaine of gold wrapt in cipers)
+proclaimes himselfe to any (but to those to whom
+his Lord owes money) for a ranck coxcombe, or
+whether he be a country gentleman, that brings his /
+wife vp to learne the fashion, see the Tombs at Westminster,
+the Lyons in the Tower, or to take physicke;
+or else is some yong Farmer, who many times makes
+his wife (in the country) beleeue he hath suits in law,
+because he will come vp to his letchery: be he of
+what stamp he will that hath money in his purse, and
+a good conscience to spend it, my councell is that
+hee take his continuall diet at a Tauerne, which (out
+of question) is the onely _Rende-vous_ of boone company;
+and the Drawers the most nimble, the most
+bold, and most sudden proclaimers of your largest
+bounty.
+
+Hauing therefore thrust your selfe into a case
+most in fashion (how coarse soeuer the stuffe be, tis
+no matter so it hold fashion), your office is (if you
+meane to do your iudgment right) to enquire out
+those Tauernes which are best customd, whose
+maisters are oftenest drunk (for that confirmes their
+taste, and that they choose wholesome wines), and
+such as stand furthest from ye counters; where,
+landing yourself and your followers, your first complement
+shall be to grow most inwardly acquainted
+with the drawers, to learne their names, as _Iack_, and
+_Will_, and _Tom_, to diue into their inclinations, as
+whether this fellow vseth to the Fencing Schoole, this
+to the Dauncing Schoole; whether that yong coniurer
+(in Hogsheads) at midnight keepes a Gelding
+now and then to visit his Cockatrice, or whether he
+loue dogs, or be addicted to any other eminent and
+Citizen-like quality: and protest your selfe to be
+extreamely in loue, and that you spend much money
+in a yeare, vpon any one of those exercises which
+you perceiue is followed by them. The vse which
+you shall make of this familiarity is this: If you want
+money fiue or six daies together, you may still pay
+the reckoning with this most Gentlemanlike language,
+_Boy, fetch me money from the barre_, and keepe yourself
+most prouidently from a hungry melancholy in
+your chamber. Besides, you shal be sure (if there be
+but one fawcet that can betray neate wine to the
+barre) to haue that arraignd before you, sooner then
+a better and worthier person.
+
+The first question you are to make (after the discharging
+of your pocket of Tobacco and pipes, and
+the houshold stuffe thereto belonging) shall be for an
+inuentorie of the Kitchen: for it were / more then
+most Tailor-like, and to be suspected you were in
+league with some Kitchen-wench, to descend your
+selfe, to offend your stomach with the sight of the
+Larder, and happily to grease your Accoustrements.
+Hauing therefore receiued this bill, you shall (like a
+capten putting vp deere paies) haue many Sallads
+stand on your table, as it were for blankes to the
+other more seruiceable dishes: and according to the
+time of the yeare, vary your fare, as Capon is a stirring
+meate sometime, Oysters are a swelling meate
+sometimes, Trowt a tickling meate sometimes, greene
+Goose, and Woodcock, a delicate meate sometimes,
+especially in a Tauerne, where you shall sit in as
+great state as a Church-warden amongst his poore
+Parishioners, at _Pentecost_ or _Christmas_.
+
+For your drinke, let not your Physitian confine
+you to any one particular liquor: for as it is requisite
+that a Gentleman should not alwaies be plodding in
+one Art, but rather bee a generall Scholler (that is, to
+haue a licke at all sorts of learning, and away) so tis
+not fitting a man should trouble his head with sucking
+at one Grape, but that he may be able (now there is
+a generall peace) to drink any stranger drunke in
+his owne element of drinke, or more properly in his
+owne mist language.
+
+Your discourse at the table must be such as that
+which you vtter at your Ordinary: your behauiour
+the same, but somewhat more carelesse: for where
+your expence is great, let your modesty be lesse:
+and, though you should be mad in a Tauerne, the
+largenesse of the _Items_ will beare with your inciuility:
+you may, without prick to your conscience, set the
+want of your wit against the superfluity and saucines
+of their reckonings.
+
+If you desire not to be haunted with _Fidlers_ (who
+by the statute haue as much libertie as _Roagues_ to
+trauell into any place, hauing the pasport of the
+house about them) bring then no women along with
+you: but if you loue the company of all the drawers,
+neuer sup without your Cockatrice: for, hauing her
+there, you shall be sure of most officious attendance.
+Enquire what Gallants sup in the next roome, and if
+they be any of your acquaintance, do not you (after
+the City fashion) send them in a pottle of wine, and
+your name, sweetned in two pittiful papers of Suger,
+with some filthy Apology cramd into the mouth of / a
+drawer; but rather keepe a boy in fee, who vnderhand
+shall proclaime you in euery roome, what a
+gallant fellow you are, how much you spend yearely
+in Tauernes, what a great gamester, what custome
+you bring to the house, in what witty discourse you
+maintaine a table, what Gentlewomen or Cittizens
+wiues you can with a wet finger haue at any time to
+sup with you, and such like. By which _Encomiasticks_
+of his, they that know you shall admire you,
+and thinke themselues to bee brought into a paradice
+but to be meanely in your acquaintance; and
+if any of your endeered friends be in the house, and
+beate the same Iuybush that your selfe does, you
+may ioyne companies, and bee drunke together most
+publikly.
+
+But in such a deluge of drinke, take heede that
+no man counterfeit him selfe drunck, to free his
+purse from the danger of the shot: tis a usuall thing
+now amongst gentlemen; it had wont bee the quality
+of Cocknies: I would aduise you to leaue so much
+braines in your head as to preuent this. When the
+terrible Reckoning (like an inditement) bids you hold
+vp your hand, and that you must answere it at the
+barre, you must not abate one penny in any particular,
+no, though they reckon cheese to you, when
+you haue neither eaten any, nor could euer abide it,
+raw or toasted: but cast your eie onely vpon the
+_Totalis_, and no further; for to trauerse the bill would
+betray you to be acquainted with the rates of the
+market, nay more, it would make the Vintners beleeue
+you were _Pater familias_, and kept a house; which, I
+assure you, is not now in fashion.
+
+If you fall to dice after Supper, let the drawers
+be as familiar with you as your Barber, and venture
+their siluer amongst you; no matter where they had
+it: you are to cherish the vnthriftinesse of such yong
+tame pigions, if you be a right gentleman: for when
+two are yoakt together by the purse strings, and draw
+the _Chariot_ of Madam _Prodigalitie_, when one faints
+in the way and slips his hornes, let the other reioice
+and laugh at him.
+
+At your departure forth the house, to kiss mine
+Hostis ouer the barre, or to accept of the courtesie
+of the Celler when tis offered you by the drawers,
+and you must know that kindnes neuer creepes vpon
+them, but when they see you almost cleft to the
+shoulders, or to bid any of the Vintners good night,
+is as commendable, as for a Barber after trimming to
+laue your face with sweete water.
+
+To conclude, count it an honour, either to inuite
+or be inuited to any Rifling: for commonly, though
+you finde much satten there, yet you shall likewise
+finde many cittizens sonnes, and heirs, and yonger
+brothers there, who smell out such feasts more
+greedily then taylors h[=u]t upon sundaies after weddings.
+And let any hooke draw you either to a
+Fencers supper, or to a Players that acts such a
+part for a wager; for by this meanes you shall get
+experience, by beeing guilty to their abhominable
+shauing.
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+How a Gallant is to behaue himselfe passing through the
+Cittie, at all houres of the night, and how to passe by any
+watch.
+
+AFTER the sound of pottle-pots is out of your eares,
+and that the spirit of Wine and Tobacco walkes in
+your braine, the Tauerne door being shut vppon
+your backe, cast about to passe through the widest
+and goodliest streetes in the Cittie. And if your
+meanes cannot reach to the keeping of a boy, hire
+one of the drawers, to be as a lanthorne vnto your
+feete, and to light you home: and, still as you
+approch neere any night-walker that is vp as late as
+yourselfe curse and swear (like one that speaks hie
+dutch) in a lofty voice, because your men haue vsd
+you so like a rascoll in not waiting vpon you, and
+vow the next morning to pull their blew cases ouer
+their eares, though, if your chamber were well searcht,
+you giue onely six pence a weeke to some old woman
+to make your bed, and that she is all the seruing-creatures
+you giue wages to. If you smell a watch
+(and that you may easily doe, for commonly they
+eate onions to keep them in sleeping, which they
+account a medicine against cold) or, if you come
+within danger of their browne bils, let him that is
+your candlestick, and holds vp your torch from dropping
+(for to march after a linck is shoomaker-like),
+let _Ignis Fatuus_, I say, being within the reach of the
+Constables staffe, aske aloud, _Sir Giles_, or _Sir
+Abram_, will you turne this way, or downe that
+streete? It skils not, though there be none dubd
+in your Bunch; the watch will winke at you, onely
+for the loue they beare to armes and knighthood:
+mary, if the Centinell and his court of Guard stand
+strictly vpon his martiall Law and cry stand, c[=o]manding
+you to giue the word, and to shew reason why
+your Ghost walkes so late, doe it in some Jest (for
+that will shew you haue a desperate wit, and perhaps
+make him and his halberdiers afraid to lay fowle
+hands vpon you) or, if you read a mittimus in the
+Constables booke, counterfeit to be a Frenchman, a
+Dutchman, or any other nation whose country is in
+peace with your owne; and you may passe the pikes:
+for beeing not able to vnderstand you, they cannot
+by the customes of the Citie take your examination,
+and so by consequence they haue nothing to say to
+you.
+
+If the night be old, and that your lodging be
+some place into which no Artillery of words can
+make a breach, retire, and rather assault the dores of
+your punck, or (not to speak broken English) your
+sweete mistris, vpon whose white bosome you may
+languishingly consume the rest of darknesse that is
+left, in rauishing (though not restoratiue) pleasures,
+without expenses, onely by vertue of foure or fiue
+oathes (when the siege breakes vp, and at your
+marching away with bag and baggage) that the last
+night you were at dice, and lost so much in gold, so
+much in siluer; and seeme to vex most that two
+such _Elizabeth_ twenty-shilling peeces, or foure such
+spur-ryals (sent you with a cheese and a bakt meate
+from your mother) rid away amongst the rest. By
+which tragicall yet pollitick speech, you may not only
+haue your nighte worke done _Gratis_, but also you
+may take dyet there the next day, and depart with
+credit, onely upon the bare word of a Gentleman to
+make her restitution.
+
+All the way as you passe (especially being approcht
+neere some of the Gates) talk of none but Lords, and
+such Ladies with whom you haue plaid at _Primero_,
+or daunced in the Presence the very same day. It
+is a chaunce to lock vp the lippes of an inquisitiue
+Bel-man: and being arriued at your lodging doore,
+which I would councell you to choose in some rich
+Cittizens house, salute at parting no man but by the
+name of Sir (as though you had supt with Knights)
+albeit you had none in your company but your
+_Perinado_, or your _Inghle_.
+
+Happily it will be blowne abroad, that you and
+your Shoale of Gallants swum through such an Ocean
+of wine, that you danced so much money out at
+heeles, and that in wild-foule there flew away thus
+much: and I assure you, to haue the bill of your
+reckoning lost of purpose, so that it may be publisht,
+will make you to be held in deere estimation: onely
+the danger is, if you owe money, and that your reuealing
+gets your Creditors by the eares; for then looke to
+haue a peal of ordinance thundring at your chamber
+doore the next morning. But if either your Tailor,
+Mercer, Haberdasher, Silkeman, Cutter, Linen Draper,
+or Sempster, stand like a guard of _Switzers_ about
+your lodging, watching your vprising, or, if they misse
+of that, your down lying in one of the Counters, you
+haue no meanes to auoid the galling of their small-shot,
+then by sending out a light-horseman to call
+your Apotecary to your aide, who, encountring this
+desperate band of your Creditors, onely with two or
+three glasses in his hand, as though that day you
+purgd, is able to driue them all to their holes like
+so many Foxes: for the name of taking physicke is
+a sufficient _Quietus est_ to any endangered Gentleman,
+and giues an acquittance (for the time) to them all,
+though the twelue Companies stand with their hoods
+to attend your comming forth and their Officers with
+them.
+
+I could now fetch you about noone (the houre
+which I prescribed you before to rise at) out of your
+chamber, and carry you with mee into _Paules Church-yard_;
+where planting your selfe in a Stationers shop,
+many instructions are to bee giuen you, what bookes
+to call for, how to censure of new bookes, how to
+mew at the old, how to looke in your tables and
+inquire for such and such _Greeke_, _French_, _Italian_, or
+_Spanish_ Authors, whose names you haue there, but
+whom your mother for pitty would not giue you so
+much wit as to vnderstand. From thence you should
+blow your selfe into the Tobacco-Ordinary, where
+you are likewise to spend your iudgment (like a
+_Quack-saluer_) vpon that mysticall wonder, to bee able
+to discourse whether your _Cane_ or your Pudding be
+sweetest, and which pipe has the best boare, and
+which burnes black, which breakes in the burning,
+&c. Or, if you itch to step into the Barbers, a
+whole _Dictionary_ cannot afford more words to set
+downe notes what _Dialogues_ you are to maintaine
+whilest you are Doctor of the Chaire there. After
+your shauing, I could breath you in a _Fence-schoole_,
+and out of that cudgell you into a _Dauncing schoole_,
+in both which I could weary you, by shewing you
+more tricks then are in fiue galleries, or fifteen prizes.
+And, to close vp the stomach of this feast, I could
+make Cockneies, whose fathers haue left them well,
+acknowledge themselues infinitely beholden to me,
+for teaching them by familiar demonstration how to
+spend their patrimony and to get themselues names,
+when their fathers are dead and rotten. But lest
+too many dishes should cast into a surfet, I will now
+take away; yet so that, if I perceiue you relish this
+well, the rest shall be (in time) prepared for you.
+_Fare-well._
+
+
+
+
+NOTES
+
+
+P. 2.
+
+_The Rubie._--This is the famous and characteristic note of
+Euphuism--the accumulation of similes from natural history,
+or what was taken for natural history. It can hardly be necessary
+to take note of each of these; still less of the abundant
+classical allusions which any one acquainted with the classics
+will understand at once, and which could only be explained to
+others by loading these notes with lumps of Lemprière. Nor
+will any one find much difficulty in the language if he remembers
+that 'then' and 'than,' 'there' and 'their,' 'wayed' and
+'weighed,' were written, or at least printed, in those days
+according to the liberal standard of the taste and fancy of the
+speller. In case of any difficulty, reading the word aloud
+will generally solve it. In a few instances, however, it may be
+well to gloss a little more specially.
+
+_M._--I am not sure what this abbreviates. 'Master,' for
+which it is the commonest sign, would do.
+
+_Oftscome_ = 'off-scum,' 'off-scouring.'
+
+
+P. 3.
+
+_Find faulte_ is rather a loss: it is better than 'fault-finder.'
+
+_Closset._--This refers to the famous copy of Homer called
+[Greek: ê ek tou narthêkos], which Alexander carried about with him in a
+sumptuous _narthex_--a portable medicine-case.
+
+_Bourde_ = 'jest.'
+
+
+P. 5.
+
+_Parson_ and 'person,' interchangeably.
+
+_Cirpo_, rather _scirpo_.
+
+
+P. 6.
+
+_Denocated._--A mistake for either 'denotated' or 'devocated,'
+both possible and easily intelligible words.
+
+_Werish_ = 'wersh,' 'weak,' 'sickly.'
+
+
+P. 7.
+
+_Predictam_ of course should be _praeditam_.
+
+_Presisnes_, for 'preciseness,' is a good example of the quaint
+tricks played by phonetics.
+
+
+P. 8.
+
+_Gale_ = gall = (in next line) _fel_.
+
+_Player._--Before his 'conversion' Gosson had himself had
+much to do with the theatre.
+
+
+P. 11.
+
+_Plotinus._--Either Lodge or his printer has made nonsense
+of this. For 'Plotinus' read 'Plautus.'
+
+
+P. 12.
+
+_Saphier._--Evident misprint for 'Sapphic.'
+
+
+P. 16.
+
+The quotation has been set right in some obvious matters,
+though not materially altered. In the second line of the English
+version 'with' should no doubt be 'which,' 'wh.' being
+the abbreviation for both.
+
+
+P. 17.
+
+Tyrtæus may perhaps be hid to some under his disguise of
+_Tirtheus_, which on p. 20 becomes _Tirthetus_.
+
+
+P. 18.
+
+_Quinque_ for _quique_ is very funny.
+
+
+P. 19.
+
+_Stare_ = 'star,' 'mole.'
+
+
+P. 20.
+
+_Acuate_ = 'sharpened,' 'spurred on.'
+
+
+P. 22.
+
+It is noteworthy that Lodge is much more eloquent and
+much more urgent in defence of music than of poetry, and
+indeed the _melomania_ of the Elizabethans is well known.
+
+
+P. 25.
+
+_Buggs_ = 'bugbears.'
+
+_Pavions_ = 'pavone' or 'pavine,' the well-known stately
+'peacock-dance' of the time.
+
+_Dump._--Not merely as now used, 'a fit of melancholy,' but
+'a melancholy tune,' and even a dance.
+
+
+P. 33.
+
+_Your (Gosson) for exempting._--'Your' may be mere carelessness
+for 'you,' or Lodge may have at one time meant to
+write, 'your exempting yourself.'
+
+
+P. 38.
+
+Last line of quotation of course _contemnas_ and _nam_.
+
+
+P. 41.
+
+Probably the printer gave _Silius Italicus_ his _v_.
+
+
+P. 44.
+
+_Pappe with an hatchet_ has been much discussed. The sense,
+which is not unlike 'giving him his gruel,' is clear enough, and
+any number of explanations of the form occur.
+
+_Patch._ Cf. Shylock's 'The _patch_ is kindly.'
+
+
+P. 45.
+
+_Huffe, Ruffe, and Snuffe._--Characters in Preston's _Cambyses_.
+It cannot be necessary to annotate each of the plays on words
+of which "grating" for "greeting" is the first, and which
+occur throughout.
+
+
+P. 46.
+
+_Ale dagger_, may refer to the custom of drinking with swords
+on the table.
+
+
+P. 47.
+
+_Scaddle_ is unannotated by Mr. Maskell, and does not appear
+in other dictionaries, even in that of Professor Skeat. But that
+excellent scholar, with his usual kindness, has given me a note
+on it. It is the A.S. _scadol_ from 'scathe,' and means 'mischievous,'
+with a secondary sense of 'thievish,' and a tertiary
+one of 'timid' or 'skulking.' It is here probably used in a
+combination of all these.
+
+_Dydoppers_ = 'didappers,' 'dabchicks.'
+
+
+P. 51.
+
+_Bastard_ senior and junior are polite references to _Martin_
+senior and _Martin_ junior, two of the pseudonyms set to the
+Marprelate pamphlets.
+
+
+P. 52.
+
+_Elderton._--A theatrical manager.
+
+
+P. 53.
+
+_Three a vies._--A 'vie' is a single stake or game at cards,
+or anything else. 'Three a vies' therefore equals our 'best of
+three.' 'Passage,' a game with dice. 'Stabbing' was a form
+of cogging. 'Cater-tray,' four and three. 'Cater-caps,'
+trencher-caps.
+
+
+P. 54.
+
+_Dicker of leather._--A bundle of ten skins.
+
+_Woodsere._--Probably, as Mr. Maskell suggests, the sap that
+sputters from green faggots.
+
+
+P. 56.
+
+_Lambacke_ = 'thrash.'
+
+
+P. 58.
+
+_Bull._--Perhaps the hangman.
+
+
+P. 64.
+
+_Aptots_ = 'Indeclinables.'
+
+
+P. 65.
+
+_Næme_, also 'eme' or 'eame' = 'uncle.'
+
+
+P. 66.
+
+_Kixes_ or kexes.--Dry stalks of hemlock.
+
+
+P. 68.
+
+_Pistle._--The common shortened form for 'epistle' much
+used by the Martinists.
+
+
+P. 71.
+
+_Liripoope._--The _liripipium_, or long academic hood.
+
+_Chiuerell_ = 'doe-leather.'
+
+
+P. 72.
+
+_Comedies._--Anti-Martinist plays are known to have existed,
+but are quite lost.
+
+
+P. 76.
+
+_Muzroule_ or musroule.--A nose-band.
+
+_Port mouth._--I presume a kind of twitch.
+
+_Mubble fubbles_ = 'dumps,' 'blues.'
+
+
+P. 77.
+
+_Hauncing_ = 'tipping.'
+
+
+P. 79.
+
+_Celarent_ and _ferio_.--This play on the _memoria technica_ of
+logical mood and figure is ingenious.
+
+_Ora whine meg._--Sometimes given as 'Over a whinny meg.'
+Name of a tune.
+
+
+P. 80.
+
+_Bullen._--A vigorous pamphleteer of the preceding age.
+
+
+P. 84.
+
+Title. _Wit and Will_ is the first of the 'five discourses.'
+Below, in the second motto, 'Vir_e_s' should of course be 'vir_u_s,'
+being no doubt a mere misprint.
+
+
+P. 86.
+
+_Gods forbod._--Dr. Grosart 'forbobod,' which appears a
+_vox nihili_. 'Past all gods forbod' seems to be pretty much = our
+'past all praying for.'
+
+
+P. 88.
+
+_Then_ (as constantly and not to be noticed hereafter) = 'than.'
+
+
+P. 90.
+
+_Byrd._ Apparently not in the sense in which 'byrd' or 'burd'
+is used by the ballad poets, for that is always of a girl, and
+Will is 'he.'
+
+
+P. 100.
+
+
+_Buts length._--The ordinary distance between targets.
+
+_Flights shotte._--As far as the bow will carry.
+
+
+P. 102.
+
+_Wood_ = 'mad.'
+
+
+P. 109.
+
+Will's Latin here and elsewhere is a good deal better than
+his modern languages.
+
+
+P. 111.
+
+_Corsi[v]e_ = 'corrosive,' something that frets and worries.
+
+
+P. 116.
+
+_Vir esset_, for _virescit_ apparently.
+
+
+P. 134.
+
+_Labra_, copies _labe_; either a mere misprint or a blunder for
+_labea_ = _labia_, regardless of the verse. Latin is often very carelessly
+printed in these tracts.
+
+
+P. 135.
+
+_Gray_ = 'badger,' from its colour.
+
+
+P. 136.
+
+_Wearied._--'Weary' and 'worry' have no real connection,
+but the former is close in spelling and sound to 'wirian,' the
+O.E. form of the latter.
+
+
+P. 141.
+
+_Tables_ = 'backgammon.'
+
+
+P. 148.
+
+_Nips_, etc., cant names for different classes of sharpers and
+thieves.
+
+
+P. 149.
+
+_Ball._--Said to be a play on the proper name of Greene's
+mistress and her brother.
+
+
+P. 150.
+
+_Place_ = '_locus_,' text or citation.
+
+
+P. 155.
+
+The allotment and discussion of the parts in this tirade as
+belonging to Marlowe and others of the earlier contemporaries
+of Shakespeare have employed much ink, and need no more.
+
+
+P. 156.
+
+_Young Iuuenall_ is apparently Lodge: 'thou no lesse deseruing'
+Peele.
+
+
+P. 166.
+
+_Barnabe Barnes_, the author of _Parthenophil and Parthenophe_,
+was no despicable minor poet; the others were less known to
+fame, and a future page (175) tells most that is known about
+them.
+
+
+P. 175.
+
+_Clarentius_ = 'Clarencieux.'?
+
+
+P. 187.
+
+_Exitat_ = 'excitate,' incite.
+
+
+P. 188.
+
+_Ale cunners._--'Conners or kenners,' the official inspectors of
+Beer.
+
+
+P. 192.
+
+A _reache_ is an advantage. By 'fiue and a reache,' either
+card and dice sharping or pocket-picking must be meant.
+
+
+P. 193.
+
+_Pullin_ = 'poultry.'
+
+
+P. 194.
+
+_Hoffes_ = '_hof_,' house.
+
+
+P. 195.
+
+Here Nash takes his customary side in the Marprelate
+business.
+
+
+P. 196.
+
+_Ram Alley_, the great locality for cook-shops.
+
+
+P. 198.
+
+The _Old Swanne_, still known on the river as a pier and
+starting-place.
+
+
+P. 199.
+
+_Heart at grasse_ = 'heart of grace.'
+
+_Lambeake._ The simple verb 'lam,' surviving in 'lam into
+him,' had divers compounds--'lambaste,' 'lambeak,' (_v. ante_)
+and the like.
+
+
+P. 202.
+
+A return to the Martinists _dunstable_--as in 'Downright Dunstable.'
+
+
+P. 205.
+
+_Duke Humfrye_ habitually entertained his guests in St. Paul's.
+
+
+P. 208.
+
+_Cataphalusie_ is, I suppose, a coined word with no special
+meaning.
+
+
+P. 212.
+
+Full information about _Grobianisme_ may be found in Chapter
+VII. of Mr. Herford's excellent _Literary Relations of England
+and Germany in the 16th Century_. Cambridge: 1886.
+
+
+P. 215.
+
+_Kelly_ succeeded Dee as an alchemist.
+
+
+P. 216.
+
+For the _Ship of Fooles_, as Alexander Barclay Englished
+Sebastian Brant's _Narrenschiff_, see Mr. Herford _op. cit._
+
+_Like Biasse_ = 'crookedly'?
+
+
+P. 217.
+
+_Tarleton_, etc.,--actors.
+
+
+P. 221.
+
+_Bootes._--For the proper and original meaning of 'boot' see
+the opening chapter of _Old Mortality_.
+
+
+P. 223.
+
+_Voyder._--The tray for sweeping off crumbs, fragments, etc.,
+from the table.
+
+
+P. 230.
+
+_Vaunt-currers_ = 'avant-couriers.'
+
+
+P. 231.
+
+_Platoes cocke._--It was rather Diogenes's--his unfeeling jest
+on the 'unfeathered, two-legged animal' definition of Man.
+
+
+P. 232.
+
+_Babiownes_ = 'baboon.'
+
+_Mandilions._--A kind of monkey.
+
+
+P. 234.
+
+_Strawling_ = 'straddling.'
+
+
+P. 242.
+
+The _Duke_, of course Humfrye.
+
+
+P. 244.
+
+_Cipers_ = 'cyprus,' crape.
+
+
+P. 246.
+
+_Horse._--Banks's Morocco, frequent in Elizabethan mouths.
+
+
+P. 273.
+
+_Perinado_, guessed to = "parasite" "dinner-hunter." _Inghle_
+= "crony."
+
+
+END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Elizabethan and Jacobean Pamphlets, by Various
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44855 ***