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diff --git a/44855-0.txt b/44855-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2474950 --- /dev/null +++ b/44855-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9025 @@ +*** 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 *** |