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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c200f4d --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #55621 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/55621) diff --git a/old/55621-0.txt b/old/55621-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 076f703..0000000 --- a/old/55621-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1191 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Humors Looking Glasse, by Samuel Rowlands - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Humors Looking Glasse - -Author: Samuel Rowlands - -Release Date: September 24, 2017 [EBook #55621] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HUMORS LOOKING GLASSE *** - - - - -Produced by ellinora, Bryan Ness and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - -Transcriber’s Note: This text was originally printed in 1608, and uses -the spelling of that period. The only alterations made (for readability) -are to use s rather than long-s and j rather than i, and to standardise -u/v to modern convention. One or two punctuation errors have also been -corrected (poems should end with full stops). Any remaining apparent -errors in the text are as printed. - -Decorative illustrations are not marked in this plain text version. - - - - - Hunterian Club - - No. II.--1871-2. - - HUMORS - LOOKING GLASSE - - BY - SAMUEL ROWLANDS - - _REPRINTED FROM THE FIRST EDITION_ - 1608 - - PRINTED FOR THE HUNTERIAN CLUB - - 1872 - - - - - HUMORS - LOOKING - Glasse. - - _LONDON._ - Imprinted by _Ed. Allde_ for _William Fere-_ - brand and are to be sold at his Shop in - _the popes-head Pallace, right over a-_ - gainst the Taverne-dore. - 1608. - - - - -_To his verie Loving Friend Master_ George Lee. - - - _Esteemed friend, I pray thee take it kinde,_ - _That outward action beares an inward minde,_ - _What objects heere these papers do deliver,_ - _Bestow the viewing of them for the giver._ - _I make thee a partaker of strange sights,_ - _Drawne antique works of humours vaine delights._ - _A mirrour of the mad conceited shapes,_ - _Of this our ages giddy-headed apes,_ - _These fash’on mongers, selfe besotted men_ - _Of kindred to the fowle that wore my pen,_ - _Are at an howers warning to appeare,_ - _And muster in sixe sheetes of Paper heere._ - _And this is all at this time I bestow,_ - _To evidence a greater love I owe._ - - Yours SAMUEL ROWLAND_S_. - - - - -_Reader._ - - - As many antique faces passe, - From Barbers chaire unto his glasse, - There to beholde their kinde of trim, - And how they are reform’d by him, - Or at _Exchang_ where Marchants greete, - Confusion of the tongues do meete, - As _English_, _French_, _Italian_, _Dutch_, - _Spanish_, and _Scot’sh_, with divers such. - So from the Presse these papers come - To show the humorous shapes of some. - Heere are such faces good and bad, - As in a Barbers shop are had, - And heere are tongues of divers kindes, - According to the speakers mindes. - Beholde their fashions, heare their voice, - And let discretion make thy choice. - - SAMUELL ROWLANDS. - - - - -_Epigram._ - - - Some man that to contention is inclin’de; - With any thing he sees, a fault wil finde, - As, that is not so good, the same’s amisse, - I have no great affection unto this. - Now I protest I doe not like the same, - This must be mended, that deserveth blame, - It were farre better such a thing were out, - This is obscure, and that’s as full of doubt. - And much adoe, and many words are spent - In finding out the path that humours went, - And for direction to that Idle way - Onely a busie tongue bears all the sway. - The dish that _Aesope_ did commend for best; - Is now a daies in wonderfull request, - But if you finde fault on a certaine ground, - Weele fall to mending when the fault is found. - - - - -_Epigram._ - - - Pra’y by your leave, make moūsieur humors roome - That oft hath walk’d about Duke Humphries tombe - And sat amongst the Knights to see a play, - And gone in’s suite of Sattin ev’ry day, - And had his hat display a bushie plume, - And’s verie beard deliver forth perfume. - But when was this? aske Frier Bacons head - That answered _Time is past_, O time is fled! - Sattin and silke was pawned long agoe, - And now in canvase, no knight can him knowe. - His former state, in dark oblivion sleepes, - Onely Paules Gallarie, that walke he keepes. - - - - -_Epigram._ - - - Crosse not my humor, with an ill plac’d worde, - For if thou doest, behold my fatall sworde: - Do’st see my countenance begin looke red? - Let that fore-tell ther’s furie in my hed. - A little discontent will quickely heate it. - Touch not my stake, thou wert as good to eate it, - These damned dice how cursed they devoure: - I lost some halfe score pound in halfe an houre. - A bowle of wine, sirha: you villaine, fill: - Who drawes it Rascall? call me hether _Will_. - You Rogue, what ha’st to Supper for my dyet? - Tel’st me of Butchers meate? knave I defie it. - Ile have a banquet to envite an Earle, - A _Phœnix_ boyld in broth distil’d in Pearle. - Holde drie this leafe, a candle quickly bring, - Ile take one pipe to bed, none other thing. - Thus with _Tabacco_ he will sup to night: - Flesh-meate is heavie, and his purse is light. - - - - -_Epigram._ - - - Two Gentlemen of hot and fierie sprite, - Tooke boate, and went up Westward to goe fight - Imbarked both, for Wens-worth they set saile, - And there ariving with a happie gaile, - The Water-men discharged for their fare, - Then to be parted, thus their mindes declare. - Pray Ores (said they) stay heere and come not nie, - We goe to fight a little, but heere by. - The Water-men with staves did follow then, - And cryd, oh holde your hands good Gentlemen, - You know the danger of the law, forbeare: - So they put weapons up and fell to sweare. - - - - -_Epigram._ - - - One of these Cuccold-making Queanes - did graft her husbands head: - who arm’d with anger, steele and horne - would kill him stain’d his bed, - And challeng’d him unto the field, - Vowing to have his life, - Where being met, sirha (quoth he,) - I doe suspect my Wife - Is scarce so honest as she should, - You make of her some use: - Indeed said he I love her well, - Ile frame no false excuse. - O! d’ye confesse? by heavens (quoth he) - Had’st thou deni’de thy guilt, - This blade had gone into thy guts, - Even to the verie Hilt. - - - - -_Epigram._ - - - Occasion late was ministred for one to trie his friend, - Ten pounds he did intreat him yᵗ of all love he would lēd - His case was an accursed case, no comfort to be found, - Unles he friendly drew his purse, & blest him with tē poūd - He did protest he had it not, making a solemne vow, - He wāted means & money both, to do him pleasure now. - Thē sir (quoth he) you know I have a Gelding I love wel, - Necessitie it hath no law, I must my Gelding sell, - I have bin offered twelve for him, with ten ile be cōtent, - Well I will trie a friend (said he,) it was his chest he ment. - So fectch’d the money presently, tother sees Angels shine - Now God amercy horse (quoth he) thy credit’s more then mine. - - - - -_Epigram._ - - - Dice diving deepe into a Ruffians purse, - Leaving it nothing worth but strings and leather: - He presently did fall to sweare and curse, - That’s life and money he would loose together, - Tooke of his hat, and swore, let me but see - What Rogue dares say this same is blacke to me? - - Another lost, and he did money lacke, - And thus his furie in a heate revives: - Where is that Rogue denies his hat is blacke? - Ile fight with him, had he ten thousand lives. - Oh sir (quoth he) in troth you come too late, - Choller is past, my anger’s out of date. - - - - -_Epigram._ - - - A Kinde of _London_-walker in a boote, - (Not _George_ a Horse-backe, but a _Gerge_ a foote,) - On ev’ry day you meete him through the yeare, - For’s bootes and spurs, a horse-man doth appeare. - Was met with, by an odde conceited stranger, - Who friendly told him that he walk’d in danger. - For Sir (in kindenes no way to offend you) - There is a warrant foorth to apprehend you. - Th’offence they say, you riding through thee streete, - Have kil’d a Childe, under your Horses feete. - Sir I protest (quoth he) they doe me wrong, - I have not back’d a horse, God knows how long, - What slaves be these, they have me false bely’d? - Ile proove this twelve-month I did never ride. - - - - -_Epigram._ - - - What feather’d fowle is this that doth approach - As if it were an _Estredge_ in a Coach? - Three yards of feather round about her hat, - And in her hand a bable like to that: - As full of Birdes attire, as Owle, or Goose, - And like unto her gowne, her selfe seemes loose. - Cri’ye mercie Ladie, lewdnes are you there? - Light feather’d stuffe befits you best to weare. - - - - -_A deafe eare, in a just cause._ - - - A Poore man came unto a Judge & shew’d his wronged state, - Entreating him for Jesus sake to be compassionate, - The wrōgs were great he did sustaine, he had no help at al - The Judge sat stil as if the man had spoken to the wall. - With that came two rude fellows in, to have a matter tride - About an Asse, that one had let the other for to ride: - Which Asse the owner found in field, as he by chance past by, - And he that hired him a sleepe did in the shadow lye. - For which he would be satisfied, his beast was but to ride: - And for the shadow of his Asse, he would be paid beside. - Great raging words, and damned othes, these two asse-wrangles swore, - Whē presently the Judge start up, that seem’d a sleep before - And heard yᵉ follies willingly of these two sottish men, - But bad the poore man come againe, he had no leasure thē. - - - - -_Epigram._ - - - A Jolly fellow Essex borne and bred, - A Farmers Sonne, his Father being dead, - T’expell his griefe and melancholly passions, - Had vowd himselfe to travell and see fashions. - His great mindes object was no trifling toy, - But to put downe the wandring Prince of Troy. - Londons discoverie first he doth decide, - His man must be his Pilot and his guide. - Three miles he had not past, there he must sit: - He ask’t if he were not neere London yet? - His man replies good Sir your selfe besturre, - For we have yet to goe sixe times as farre. - Alas I had rather stay at home and digge, - I had not thought the worlde was halfe so bigge. - Thus this great worthie comes backe (thoewith strife) - He never was so farre in all his life. - None of the seaven worthies: on his behalfe, - Say, was not he a worthie Essex Calfe? - - - - -_The Humors that haunt a Wife._ - - - A Gentleman a verie friend of mine, - Hath a young wife and she is monstrous fine, - Shee’s of the new fantastique humor right, - In her attire an angell of the light. - Is she an Angell? I: it may be well, - Not of the light, she is a light Angell. - Forsooth his doore must suffer alteration, - To entertaine her mightie huge Bom-fashion, - A hood’s to base, a hat which she doth male, - With bravest feathers in the Estridge tayle. - She scornes to treade our former proud wives traces. - That put their glory in their on faire faces, - In her conceit it is not faire enough, - She must reforme it with her painters stuffe, - And she is never merry at the heart, - Till she be got into her leatherne Cart. - Some halfe amile the Coach-man guides the raynes, - Then home againe, birladie she takes paines. - My friend seeing what humours haunt a wife, - If he were loose would lead a single life. - - - - -_A poore Mans pollicy._ - - - Next I will tell you of a poore mans tricke, - Which he did practise with a polliticke, - This poore man had a Cow twas all his stocke, - Which on the Commons fed: where Catell flocke, - The other had a steere a wanton Beast, - Which he did turne to feede amongst the rest. - Which in processe although I know not how, - The rich mans Oxe did gore the poore mans Cow. - The poore man heereat vexed waxed sad, - For it is all the living that he had, - And he must loose his living for a song, - Alas he knew not how to right his wrong. - He knew his enemie had pointes of law, - To save his purse, fill his devouring mawe, - Yet thought the poore man how so it betide, - Ile make him give right sentence on my side. - Without delay unto the Man he goes, - And unto him this fayned tale doth gloze, - (Quoth he) my Cow which with your Oxe did feede, - Hath kild your Oxe and I make knowne the deede. - Why (quoth my Politique) thou shouldst have helpt it rather, - Thou shalt pay for him if thow wert my father. - The course of law in no wise must be stayde, - Least I an evill president be made. - O Sir (quoth he) I cry you mercy now, - I did mistake, your Oxe hath gorde my Cow: - Convict by reason he began to brawle, - But was content to let his action fall. - As why? (quoth he) thou lookst unto her well, - Could I prevent the mischiefe that befell? - I have more weightie causes now to trie, - Might orecomes right without a reason why. - - - - -_Epigram._ - - - One of the damned crew that lives by drinke, - And by Tobacco’s stillified stink, - Met with a Country man that dwelt at Hull: - Thought he this pesant’s fit to be my Gull. - His first salute like to the French-mans wipe, - Wordes of encounter, please you take a pipe? - The Countrie man amazed at this rabble, - Knewe not his minde yet would be conformable. - Well, in a petty Ale-house they ensconce - His Gull must learne to drinke Tobacco once. - Indeede his purpose was to make a jest, - How with Tobacco he the peasant drest. - Hee takes a whiffe, with arte into his head, - The other standeth still astonished. - Till all his sences he doth backe revoake, - Sees it ascend much like Saint Katherins smoake. - But this indeede made him the more admire, - He saw the smoke: thought he his head’s a fier, - And to increase his feare he thought poore soule, - His scarlet nose had been a firie cole. - Which circled round with smoak, seemed to him - Like to some rotten brand that burneth dim. - But to shew wisdome in a desperat case, - He threw a Can of beere into his face, - And like a man some furie did inspire, - Ran out of doores for helpe to quench the fire. - The Ruffin throwes away his Trinidado, - Out comes huge oathes and then his short poynado, - But then the Beere so troubled his eyes, - The countrieman was gone ere he could rise, - A fier to drie him, he doth now require, - Rather than water for to quench his fire. - - - - -_Epigram._ - - - Come my brave gallant come, uncase, uncase, - Nere shall oblivion your great actes deface. - He has been there where never man came yet, - An unknowne countrie, I, ile warrant it, - Whence he could Ballace a good ship in holde, - With Rubies, Saphiers, Diamonds and golde, - Great Orient Pearles esteem’d no more then moates, - Sould by the pecke as chandlers mesure oates, - I mervaile then we have no trade from thence: - O tis too farre it will not beare expence. - T’were far indeede, a good way from our mayne, - If charges eate up such excessive gaine, - Well he can shew you some of Lybian gravell, - O that there were another world to travell, - I heard him sweare that hee (twas in his mirth) - Had been in all the corners of the earth. - Let all his wonders be together stitcht, - He threw the barre that great _Alcides_ pitcht: - But he that saw the Oceans farthest strands, - You pose him if you aske where Dover stands. - He has been under ground and hell did see, - _Aeneas_ nere durst goe so farre as hee. - For he has gone through _Plutœs_ Regiment, - Saw how the Fiendes doe Lyers there torment. - And how they did in helles damnation frye, - But who would thinke the Traveller would lye? - To dine with _Pluto_ he was made to tarrie, - As kindly us’d as at his Ordinarie. - Hogsheades of wine drawne out into a Tub, - Where he did drinke hand-smooth with _Belzebub_, - And _Proserpine_ gave him a goulden bow, - Tis in his chest he cannot shew it now. - - - - -_Of one that cousned the Cut-purse._ - - - One toulde a Drover that beleev’d it not, - What booties at the playes the Cut-purse got, - But if t’were so my Drovers wit was quicke, - He vow’d to serve the Cut-purse a new tricke. - Next day unto the play, pollicy hy’d, - A bag of fortie shillings by his side, - Which houlding fast he taketh up his stand, - If stringes be cut his purse is in his hand. - A fine conceited Cut-purse spying this, - Lookt for no more, the for shillings his, - Whilst my fine Politique gazed about, - The Cut-purse feately tooke the bottom out. - And cuts the strings, good foole goe make a jest, - This Dismall day thy purse was fairely blest. - Houlde fast good Noddy tis good to dreade the worse, - Your monie’s gone, I pray you keepe your purse. - The play is done and foorth the foole doth goe, - Being glad that he cousned the Cut-purse soe. - He thought to jybe how he the Cut-purse drest, - And memorize it for a famous jest. - But putting in his hand it ran quite throw - Dash’t the conceite, heele never speake on’t now, - You that to playes have such delight to goe, - The Cut-purse cares not, still deceive him so. - - - - -_A drunken fray._ - - - _Dicke_ met with _Tom_ in faith it was their lot, - Two honest Drunkars must goe drinke a pot, - Twas but a pot, or say a little more, - Or say a pot that’s filled eight times ore. - But being drunke, and met well with the leese, - They drinke to healthes devoutly on their knees, - _Dicke_ drinks to _Hall_, to pledge him _Tom_ rejects, - And scornes to doe it for some odde respects - Wilt thou not pledge him thar’t a gill, a Scab, - Wert with my man-hood thou deservest a stab, - But tis no matter drinke another bout, - Weele intot’h field and there weele trie it out. - Lets goe (saies Tom) no longer by this hand, - Nay stay (quoth Dicke) lets see if we can stand. - Then forth they goe after the drunken pace, - Which God he knowes was with a reeling grace, - _Tom_ made his bargaine, thus with bonnie Dicke - If it should chance my foote or so should slip, - How wouldst thou use me or after what Size, - Wouldst bare me shorter or wouldst let me rise. - Nay God forbid our quarrells not so great, - To kill thee on advantage in my heat. - Tush we’le not fight for any hate or soe, - But for meere love that each to other owe. - And for thy learning loe Ile shew a tricke, - No sooner spoke the worde but downe comes Dicke, - Well now (quoth Tom) thy life hangs on my sworde, - If I were downe how wouldst thou keepe thy worde? - Why with these hilts I’de braine thee at a blow, - Faith in my humor cut thy throate, or soe, - But Tom he scorne to kill his conquered foe, - Lets Dicke arise, and too’t againe they goe. - Dicke throwes downe Tom, or rather Tom did fall, - My hilts (quoth Dicke) shall braine thee like a maull, - Is’t so (quoth Tom) good faith what remedie, - The Tower of Babell’s fallen and so am I. - But Dicke proceedes to give the fatall wound, - It mist his throate, but run into the ground. - But he supposing that the man was slaine, - Straight fled his contrie, ship himselfe for Spaine, - Whilst valiant Thomas dyed dronken deepe, - Forgot his danger and fell fast a sleepe. - - - - -_Epigram._ - - - What’s he that stares as if he were afright? - The fellowe sure hath seene some dreadfull spright - Masse rightly guest, why sure I did divine, - Hee’s haunted with a Spirit feminine. - In plaine termes thus, the Spirit that I meane, - His martiall wife that notable curst queane, - No other weapons but her nailes or fist, - Poore patient Idiot he dares not resist, - His neighbor once would borrow but his knife, - Good neighbor stay (quoth he) ile aske my wife: - Once came he home inspired in the head, - He found his neighbor and his wife a bed, - Yet durst not sturre, but hide him in a hole, - He feared to displease his wife poore soule. - But why should he so dreade and feare her hate, - Since she had given him armor for his pate? - Next day forsooth he doth his neighbor meete, - Whome with sterne rage thus furiously doth greete, - Villaine ile slit thy nose, out comes his knife, - Sirra (quoth he) goe to Ile tell your wife. - Apaled at which terror, meekely faide - Retire good knife my furie is allaide. - - - - -_Proteus._ - - - Time serving humour thou wrie-faced Ape, - That canst transforme thy selfe to any shape: - Come good _Proteus_ come away a pace, - We long to see thy mumping Antique face. - This is the fellow that lives by his wit, - A cogging knave and fawning Parrasit, - He has behaviour for the greatest porte, - And hee has humors for the rascall sorte, - He has beene great with Lordes and high estates, - They could not live without his rare conceites, - He was associat for the bravest spirits, - His galland carriage such favour merrits. - Yet to a Ruffiin humor for the stewes, - A right graund Captaine of the damned crewes, - With whome his humor alwayes is unstable - Mad, melancholly, drunke and variable. - Hat without band like cutting Dicke he goe’s, - Renowned for his new invented oathes. - Sometimes like a Civilian, tis strange - At twelve a clocke he must unto the Change, - Where being thought a Marchant to the eye, - He tels strange newes his humor is to lie. - Some Damaske coate the effect thereof must heare, - Invites him home and there he gets good cheare. - But how is’t now such brave renowned wits, - Weare ragged robes with such huge gastly slits, - Faith thus a ragged humour he hath got - Whole garments for the Summer are too hot. - Thus you may censure gently if you please, - He weares such garments onely for his ease. - Or thus his credit will no longer wave. - For all men know him for a prating knave. - - - - -_Epigram._ - - - A Scholer newly entred marriage life - Following his studdie did offend his wife, - Because when she his company expected, - By bookish busines she was still neglected: - Comming unto his studdy, Lord (quoth she) - Can papers cause you love them more than mee: - I would I were transform’d into a Booke - That your affection might upon me looke, - But in my wish, withall be it decreed, - I would be such a Booke you love to reede, - Husband (quoth she) which books form should I take, - Marry (said hee) t’were best an Almanacke, - The reason wherefore I doe wish thee so, - Is, every yeare wee have a new you knowe. - - - - -_Epigram._ - - - Sira, come hether boy, take view of mee, - My Lady I am purpos’d to goe see: - What doth my feather flourish with a grace, - And this same dooble sette become my face, - How descent doth this doublets forme appeare - (I would I had my sute in houns-ditch heere) - Do not my spurs pronounce a silver sounde? - Do’s not my hose circumference profounde? - Sir these are well, but there is one thing ill, - Your Tailour with a sheete of paper bill, - Vowes heel’e be paid, and Serjeants he had feed, - Which wayte your comming forth to do thy deede: - Boy god-amercy let my Lady stay, - Ile see no counter for her sake to day. - - - - -_Much a doe about chusing a wife._ - - - A Widdower would have a wife were old, - Past charge of children to prevent expence - Her chests and bagges cram’d till they crake with gold, - And she unto her grave post quickly hence, - But if all this were fitting to his minde, - Where is his lease of life to stay behinde? - - A Batcheler would have wife were wise, - Faire, Rich and Younge, a maiden for his bed, - Not proude, nor churlish but of fautles size, - A country housewife, in the Citty bred. - But hees a foole and longe in vaine hath staide, - He shoulde bespeake her, there’s none ready made. - - - - -_The taming of a wilde Youth._ - - - Of late a deare and loving friend of mine, - That all his time a Gallant youth had bene, - From mirth to melancholy did decline, - Looking exeeding pale, leane, poore, and thin, - I ask’d the cause he brought me through the streete, - Unto his house, and there hee let me see, - A woman proper, faire, wise and discreete - And said behould, heer’s that hath tamed mee, - Hath this (quoth I,) can such a wife do so? - Lord how is he tam’d then, that hath a shrow. - - - - -_A straunge sighted Traveller._ - - - An honest Country foole being gentle bred, - Was by an odde conceited humor led, - To travell and some English fashions see, - With such strange sights as heere at London be. - Stuffing his purse with a good golden some, - This wandring knight did to the Cittie come, - And there a servingman he entertaines, - An honester in Newgate not remaines. - He shew’d his Maister sights to him most strange, - Great tall Pauls Steeple and the royall-Exchange: - The Bosse at _Billings-gate_ and _London-stone_ - And at _White-Hall_ the monstrous great Whales bone, - Brought him to the banck-side where Beares do dwell - And unto _Shor-ditch_ where the whores keepe hell, - Shew’d him the Lyons, Gyants in Guild-Hall, - King _Lud_ at _Lud-gate_, the _Babounes_ and all, - At length his man, on all he had did pray, - Shew’d him a theevish trick and ran away, - The Traveller turnd home exceeding civill, - And swore in London he had seene the Devill. - - - - -_Three kinde of Couckoldes_, - -One, And None. - - - First there’s a Cuckolde called One and None, - Which foole, from fortune hath receiv’d such favour - He hath a wife for beutie stands alone, - Grac’d with good carriage, and most sweete behaviour - Nature so bounteous hath her gifts extended. - From head to foote ther’s nothing to be mended. - - Besides, she is as perfect chast, as faire, - But being married to a jealous asse, - He vowes she hornes him, for he feeles a paire - Have bin a growing ever since last grasse, - No contrary perswasions hee’l indure, - But’s wife is faire and hee’s a Cuckolde sure. - - - - -_The second._ - -None, and One. - - - The second hath a wife that loves the game, - And playes the secret cunnig whore at plaisure. - But in her husbands sight shees wondrous tame, - Which makes him vow, he hath _Ulisses_ treasure. - Sheele wish al whores were hang’d, with weeping teares - Yet she her selfe a whores cloathes dayly weares. - - Her husbāds friends report how’s wife doth gull him - With false deceitfull and dissembling showe - And that by both his hornes a man may pull him, - To such a goodly length they daylie growe, - He sayes they wrong her, and he sweares they lye, - His wife is chaste, and in that minde hee’le dye. - - - - -_The Third_, - -One, and One. - - - The third is he that knowes women are weake, - And therefore they are dayly apt to fall, - Words of unkindnesse their kind hearts may breake, - They are but flesh and therefore sinners all, - His wife is not the first hath trod a wry, - Amongst his neighbours he as bad can spye. - - What can he helpe it if his wife do ill, - But take it as his crosse and be content, - For quietnesse he lets her have her will, - When shee is old perhaps she will repent, - Let every one amend their one bad life, - Th’are knaves and queans that medle with his wife. - - -FINIS. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Humors Looking Glasse, by Samuel Rowlands - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HUMORS LOOKING GLASSE *** - -***** This file should be named 55621-0.txt or 55621-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/6/2/55621/ - -Produced by ellinora, Bryan Ness and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Humors Looking Glasse - -Author: Samuel Rowlands - -Release Date: September 24, 2017 [EBook #55621] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HUMORS LOOKING GLASSE *** - - - - -Produced by ellinora, Bryan Ness and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<p class="transnote">Transcriber’s Note: This text was originally printed in 1608, and uses -the spelling of that period. The only alterations made (for readability) -are to use s rather than long-s and j rather than i, and to standardise -u/v to modern convention. One or two punctuation errors have also been -corrected (poems should end with full stops). Any remaining apparent -errors in the text are as printed.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="center larger gothic">Hunterian Club</p> - -<div class="bordered"> - -<p class="center">No. II.—1871-2.</p> - -</div> - -<p class="titlepage larger">HUMORS<br /> -<br /> -LOOKING GLASSE</p> - -<p class="titlepage"><span class="smaller">BY</span><br /> -SAMUEL ROWLANDS</p> - -<p class="titlepage"><i>REPRINTED FROM THE FIRST EDITION</i><br /> -1608</p> - -<p class="titlepage">PRINTED FOR THE HUNTERIAN CLUB<br /> -1872</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco1.jpg" width="500" height="165" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<h1>HUMORS<br /> -LOOKING<br /> -Glasse.</h1> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> -<img src="images/deco2.jpg" width="300" height="130" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<p class="center"><i>LONDON.</i><br /> -Imprinted by <i>Ed. Allde</i> for <i>William Fere-</i><br /> -brand and are to be sold at his Shop in<br /> -<i>the popes-head Pallace, right over a-</i><br /> -gainst the Taverne-dore.<br /> -1608.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco3.jpg" width="500" height="150" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco4.jpg" width="500" height="100" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<h2><i>To his verie Loving Friend Master</i><br /> -George Lee.</h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><i>Esteemed friend, I pray thee take it kinde,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>That outward action beares an inward minde,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>What objects heere these papers do deliver,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Bestow the viewing of them for the giver.</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>I make thee a partaker of strange sights,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Drawne antique works of humours vaine delights.</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>A mirrour of the mad conceited shapes,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Of this our ages giddy-headed apes,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>These fash’on mongers, selfe besotted men</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Of kindred to the fowle that wore my pen,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Are at an howers warning to appeare,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>And muster in sixe sheetes of Paper heere.</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>And this is all at this time I bestow,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>To evidence a greater love I owe.</i></div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse right">Yours <span class="smcap">Samuel rowland<i>s</i></span>.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 325px;"> -<img src="images/deco5.jpg" width="325" height="100" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<h2><i>Reader.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">As many antique faces passe,</div> -<div class="verse">From Barbers chaire unto his glasse,</div> -<div class="verse">There to beholde their kinde of trim,</div> -<div class="verse">And how they are reform’d by him,</div> -<div class="verse">Or at <em>Exchang</em> where Marchants greete,</div> -<div class="verse">Confusion of the tongues do meete,</div> -<div class="verse">As <em>English</em>, <em>French</em>, <em>Italian</em>, <em>Dutch</em>,</div> -<div class="verse"><em>Spanish</em>, and <em>Scot’sh</em>, with divers such.</div> -<div class="verse">So from the Presse these papers come</div> -<div class="verse">To show the humorous shapes of some.</div> -<div class="verse">Heere are such faces good and bad,</div> -<div class="verse">As in a Barbers shop are had,</div> -<div class="verse">And heere are tongues of divers kindes,</div> -<div class="verse">According to the speakers mindes.</div> -<div class="verse">Beholde their fashions, heare their voice,</div> -<div class="verse">And let discretion make thy choice.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse right"><span class="smcap">Samuell rowlands.</span></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> - -<h2><i>Epigram.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Some man that to contention is inclin’de;</div> -<div class="verse">With any thing he sees, a fault wil finde,</div> -<div class="verse">As, that is not so good, the same’s amisse,</div> -<div class="verse">I have no great affection unto this.</div> -<div class="verse">Now I protest I doe not like the same,</div> -<div class="verse">This must be mended, that deserveth blame,</div> -<div class="verse">It were farre better such a thing were out,</div> -<div class="verse">This is obscure, and that’s as full of doubt.</div> -<div class="verse">And much adoe, and many words are spent</div> -<div class="verse">In finding out the path that humours went,</div> -<div class="verse">And for direction to that Idle way</div> -<div class="verse">Onely a busie tongue bears all the sway.</div> -<div class="verse">The dish that <em>Aesope</em> did commend for best;</div> -<div class="verse">Is now a daies in wonderfull request,</div> -<div class="verse">But if you finde fault on a certaine ground,</div> -<div class="verse">Weele fall to mending when the fault is found.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p> - -<h2><i>Epigram.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Pra’y by your leave, make moūsieur humors roome</div> -<div class="verse">That oft hath walk’d about Duke Humphries tombe</div> -<div class="verse">And sat amongst the Knights to see a play,</div> -<div class="verse">And gone in’s suite of Sattin ev’ry day,</div> -<div class="verse">And had his hat display a bushie plume,</div> -<div class="verse">And’s verie beard deliver forth perfume.</div> -<div class="verse">But when was this? aske Frier Bacons head</div> -<div class="verse">That answered <em>Time is past</em>, O time is fled!</div> -<div class="verse">Sattin and silke was pawned long agoe,</div> -<div class="verse">And now in canvase, no knight can him knowe.</div> -<div class="verse">His former state, in dark oblivion sleepes,</div> -<div class="verse">Onely Paules Gallarie, that walke he keepes.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<h2><i>Epigram.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Crosse not my humor, with an ill plac’d worde,</div> -<div class="verse">For if thou doest, behold my fatall sworde:</div> -<div class="verse">Do’st see my countenance begin looke red?</div> -<div class="verse">Let that fore-tell ther’s furie in my hed.</div> -<div class="verse">A little discontent will quickely heate it.</div> -<div class="verse">Touch not my stake, thou wert as good to eate it,</div> -<div class="verse">These damned dice how cursed they devoure:</div> -<div class="verse">I lost some halfe score pound in halfe an houre.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> -<div class="verse">A bowle of wine, sirha: you villaine, fill:</div> -<div class="verse">Who drawes it Rascall? call me hether <em>Will</em>.</div> -<div class="verse">You Rogue, what ha’st to Supper for my dyet?</div> -<div class="verse">Tel’st me of Butchers meate? knave I defie it.</div> -<div class="verse">Ile have a banquet to envite an Earle,</div> -<div class="verse">A <em>Phœnix</em> boyld in broth distil’d in Pearle.</div> -<div class="verse">Holde drie this leafe, a candle quickly bring,</div> -<div class="verse">Ile take one pipe to bed, none other thing.</div> -<div class="verse">Thus with <em>Tabacco</em> he will sup to night:</div> -<div class="verse">Flesh-meate is heavie, and his purse is light.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<h2><i>Epigram.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Two Gentlemen of hot and fierie sprite,</div> -<div class="verse">Tooke boate, and went up Westward to goe fight</div> -<div class="verse">Imbarked both, for Wens-worth they set saile,</div> -<div class="verse">And there ariving with a happie gaile,</div> -<div class="verse">The Water-men discharged for their fare,</div> -<div class="verse">Then to be parted, thus their mindes declare.</div> -<div class="verse">Pray Ores (said they) stay heere and come not nie,</div> -<div class="verse">We goe to fight a little, but heere by.</div> -<div class="verse">The Water-men with staves did follow then,</div> -<div class="verse">And cryd, oh holde your hands good Gentlemen,</div> -<div class="verse">You know the danger of the law, forbeare:</div> -<div class="verse">So they put weapons up and fell to sweare.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> - -<h2><i>Epigram.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">One of these Cuccold-making Queanes</div> -<div class="verse">did graft her husbands head:</div> -<div class="verse">who arm’d with anger, steele and horne</div> -<div class="verse">would kill him stain’d his bed,</div> -<div class="verse">And challeng’d him unto the field,</div> -<div class="verse">Vowing to have his life,</div> -<div class="verse">Where being met, sirha (quoth he,)</div> -<div class="verse">I doe suspect my Wife</div> -<div class="verse">Is scarce so honest as she should,</div> -<div class="verse">You make of her some use:</div> -<div class="verse">Indeed said he I love her well,</div> -<div class="verse">Ile frame no false excuse.</div> -<div class="verse">O! d’ye confesse? by heavens (quoth he)</div> -<div class="verse">Had’st thou deni’de thy guilt,</div> -<div class="verse">This blade had gone into thy guts,</div> -<div class="verse">Even to the verie Hilt.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p> - -<h2><i>Epigram.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Occasion late was ministred for one to trie his friend,</div> -<div class="verse">Ten pounds he did intreat him yᵗ of all love he would lēd</div> -<div class="verse">His case was an accursed case, no comfort to be found,</div> -<div class="verse">Unles he friendly drew his purse, & blest him with tē poūd</div> -<div class="verse">He did protest he had it not, making a solemne vow,</div> -<div class="verse">He wāted means & money both, to do him pleasure now.</div> -<div class="verse">Thē sir (quoth he) you know I have a Gelding I love wel,</div> -<div class="verse">Necessitie it hath no law, I must my Gelding sell,</div> -<div class="verse">I have bin offered twelve for him, with ten ile be cōtent,</div> -<div class="verse">Well I will trie a friend (said he,) it was his chest he ment.</div> -<div class="verse">So fectch’d the money presently, tother sees Angels shine</div> -<div class="verse">Now God amercy horse (quoth he) thy credit’s more then mine.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> - -<h2><i>Epigram.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Dice diving deepe into a Ruffians purse,</div> -<div class="verse">Leaving it nothing worth but strings and leather:</div> -<div class="verse">He presently did fall to sweare and curse,</div> -<div class="verse">That’s life and money he would loose together,</div> -<div class="verse">Tooke of his hat, and swore, let me but see</div> -<div class="verse">What Rogue dares say this same is blacke to me?</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Another lost, and he did money lacke,</div> -<div class="verse">And thus his furie in a heate revives:</div> -<div class="verse">Where is that Rogue denies his hat is blacke?</div> -<div class="verse">Ile fight with him, had he ten thousand lives.</div> -<div class="verse">Oh sir (quoth he) in troth you come too late,</div> -<div class="verse">Choller is past, my anger’s out of date.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<h2><i>Epigram.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">A Kinde of <em>London</em>-walker in a boote,</div> -<div class="verse">(Not <em>George</em> a Horse-backe, but a <em>Gerge</em> a foote,)</div> -<div class="verse">On ev’ry day you meete him through the yeare,</div> -<div class="verse">For’s bootes and spurs, a horse-man doth appeare.</div> -<div class="verse">Was met with, by an odde conceited stranger,</div> -<div class="verse">Who friendly told him that he walk’d in danger.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> -<div class="verse">For Sir (in kindenes no way to offend you)</div> -<div class="verse">There is a warrant foorth to apprehend you.</div> -<div class="verse">Th’offence they say, you riding through thee streete,</div> -<div class="verse">Have kil’d a Childe, under your Horses feete.</div> -<div class="verse">Sir I protest (quoth he) they doe me wrong,</div> -<div class="verse">I have not back’d a horse, God knows how long,</div> -<div class="verse">What slaves be these, they have me false bely’d?</div> -<div class="verse">Ile proove this twelve-month I did never ride.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<h2><i>Epigram.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">What feather’d fowle is this that doth approach</div> -<div class="verse">As if it were an <em>Estredge</em> in a Coach?</div> -<div class="verse">Three yards of feather round about her hat,</div> -<div class="verse">And in her hand a bable like to that:</div> -<div class="verse">As full of Birdes attire, as Owle, or Goose,</div> -<div class="verse">And like unto her gowne, her selfe seemes loose.</div> -<div class="verse">Cri’ye mercie Ladie, lewdnes are you there?</div> -<div class="verse">Light feather’d stuffe befits you best to weare.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco4.jpg" width="500" height="100" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p> - -<h2><i>A deafe eare, in a just cause.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">A Poore man came unto a Judge & shew’d his wronged state,</div> -<div class="verse">Entreating him for Jesus sake to be compassionate,</div> -<div class="verse">The wrōgs were great he did sustaine, he had no help at al</div> -<div class="verse">The Judge sat stil as if the man had spoken to the wall.</div> -<div class="verse">With that came two rude fellows in, to have a matter tride</div> -<div class="verse">About an Asse, that one had let the other for to ride:</div> -<div class="verse">Which Asse the owner found in field, as he by chance past by,</div> -<div class="verse">And he that hired him a sleepe did in the shadow lye.</div> -<div class="verse">For which he would be satisfied, his beast was but to ride:</div> -<div class="verse">And for the shadow of his Asse, he would be paid beside.</div> -<div class="verse">Great raging words, and damned othes, these two asse-wrangles swore,</div> -<div class="verse">Whē presently the Judge start up, that seem’d a sleep before</div> -<div class="verse">And heard yᵉ follies willingly of these two sottish men,</div> -<div class="verse">But bad the poore man come againe, he had no leasure thē.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;"> -<img src="images/deco7.jpg" width="250" height="100" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p> - -<h2><i>Epigram.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">A Jolly fellow Essex borne and bred,</div> -<div class="verse">A Farmers Sonne, his Father being dead,</div> -<div class="verse">T’expell his griefe and melancholly passions,</div> -<div class="verse">Had vowd himselfe to travell and see fashions.</div> -<div class="verse">His great mindes object was no trifling toy,</div> -<div class="verse">But to put downe the wandring Prince of Troy.</div> -<div class="verse">Londons discoverie first he doth decide,</div> -<div class="verse">His man must be his Pilot and his guide.</div> -<div class="verse">Three miles he had not past, there he must sit:</div> -<div class="verse">He ask’t if he were not neere London yet?</div> -<div class="verse">His man replies good Sir your selfe besturre,</div> -<div class="verse">For we have yet to goe sixe times as farre.</div> -<div class="verse">Alas I had rather stay at home and digge,</div> -<div class="verse">I had not thought the worlde was halfe so bigge.</div> -<div class="verse">Thus this great worthie comes backe (thoewith strife)</div> -<div class="verse">He never was so farre in all his life.</div> -<div class="verse">None of the seaven worthies: on his behalfe,</div> -<div class="verse">Say, was not he a worthie Essex Calfe?</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p> - -<h2><i>The Humors that haunt a Wife.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">A Gentleman a verie friend of mine,</div> -<div class="verse">Hath a young wife and she is monstrous fine,</div> -<div class="verse">Shee’s of the new fantastique humor right,</div> -<div class="verse">In her attire an angell of the light.</div> -<div class="verse">Is she an Angell? I: it may be well,</div> -<div class="verse">Not of the light, she is a light Angell.</div> -<div class="verse">Forsooth his doore must suffer alteration,</div> -<div class="verse">To entertaine her mightie huge Bom-fashion,</div> -<div class="verse">A hood’s to base, a hat which she doth male,</div> -<div class="verse">With bravest feathers in the Estridge tayle.</div> -<div class="verse">She scornes to treade our former proud wives traces.</div> -<div class="verse">That put their glory in their on faire faces,</div> -<div class="verse">In her conceit it is not faire enough,</div> -<div class="verse">She must reforme it with her painters stuffe,</div> -<div class="verse">And she is never merry at the heart,</div> -<div class="verse">Till she be got into her leatherne Cart.</div> -<div class="verse">Some halfe amile the Coach-man guides the raynes,</div> -<div class="verse">Then home againe, birladie she takes paines.</div> -<div class="verse">My friend seeing what humours haunt a wife,</div> -<div class="verse">If he were loose would lead a single life.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p> - -<h2><i>A poore Mans pollicy.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Next I will tell you of a poore mans tricke,</div> -<div class="verse">Which he did practise with a polliticke,</div> -<div class="verse">This poore man had a Cow twas all his stocke,</div> -<div class="verse">Which on the Commons fed: where Catell flocke,</div> -<div class="verse">The other had a steere a wanton Beast,</div> -<div class="verse">Which he did turne to feede amongst the rest.</div> -<div class="verse">Which in processe although I know not how,</div> -<div class="verse">The rich mans Oxe did gore the poore mans Cow.</div> -<div class="verse">The poore man heereat vexed waxed sad,</div> -<div class="verse">For it is all the living that he had,</div> -<div class="verse">And he must loose his living for a song,</div> -<div class="verse">Alas he knew not how to right his wrong.</div> -<div class="verse">He knew his enemie had pointes of law,</div> -<div class="verse">To save his purse, fill his devouring mawe,</div> -<div class="verse">Yet thought the poore man how so it betide,</div> -<div class="verse">Ile make him give right sentence on my side.</div> -<div class="verse">Without delay unto the Man he goes,</div> -<div class="verse">And unto him this fayned tale doth gloze,</div> -<div class="verse">(Quoth he) my Cow which with your Oxe did feede,</div> -<div class="verse">Hath kild your Oxe and I make knowne the deede.</div> -<div class="verse">Why (quoth my Politique) thou shouldst have helpt it rather,</div> -<div class="verse">Thou shalt pay for him if thow wert my father.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> -<div class="verse">The course of law in no wise must be stayde,</div> -<div class="verse">Least I an evill president be made.</div> -<div class="verse">O Sir (quoth he) I cry you mercy now,</div> -<div class="verse">I did mistake, your Oxe hath gorde my Cow:</div> -<div class="verse">Convict by reason he began to brawle,</div> -<div class="verse">But was content to let his action fall.</div> -<div class="verse">As why? (quoth he) thou lookst unto her well,</div> -<div class="verse">Could I prevent the mischiefe that befell?</div> -<div class="verse">I have more weightie causes now to trie,</div> -<div class="verse">Might orecomes right without a reason why.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<h2><i>Epigram.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">One of the damned crew that lives by drinke,</div> -<div class="verse">And by Tobacco’s stillified stink,</div> -<div class="verse">Met with a Country man that dwelt at Hull:</div> -<div class="verse">Thought he this pesant’s fit to be my Gull.</div> -<div class="verse">His first salute like to the French-mans wipe,</div> -<div class="verse">Wordes of encounter, please you take a pipe?</div> -<div class="verse">The Countrie man amazed at this rabble,</div> -<div class="verse">Knewe not his minde yet would be conformable.</div> -<div class="verse">Well, in a petty Ale-house they ensconce</div> -<div class="verse">His Gull must learne to drinke Tobacco once.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> -<div class="verse">Indeede his purpose was to make a jest,</div> -<div class="verse">How with Tobacco he the peasant drest.</div> -<div class="verse">Hee takes a whiffe, with arte into his head,</div> -<div class="verse">The other standeth still astonished.</div> -<div class="verse">Till all his sences he doth backe revoake,</div> -<div class="verse">Sees it ascend much like Saint Katherins smoake.</div> -<div class="verse">But this indeede made him the more admire,</div> -<div class="verse">He saw the smoke: thought he his head’s a fier,</div> -<div class="verse">And to increase his feare he thought poore soule,</div> -<div class="verse">His scarlet nose had been a firie cole.</div> -<div class="verse">Which circled round with smoak, seemed to him</div> -<div class="verse">Like to some rotten brand that burneth dim.</div> -<div class="verse">But to shew wisdome in a desperat case,</div> -<div class="verse">He threw a Can of beere into his face,</div> -<div class="verse">And like a man some furie did inspire,</div> -<div class="verse">Ran out of doores for helpe to quench the fire.</div> -<div class="verse">The Ruffin throwes away his Trinidado,</div> -<div class="verse">Out comes huge oathes and then his short poynado,</div> -<div class="verse">But then the Beere so troubled his eyes,</div> -<div class="verse">The countrieman was gone ere he could rise,</div> -<div class="verse">A fier to drie him, he doth now require,</div> -<div class="verse">Rather than water for to quench his fire.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p> - -<h2><i>Epigram.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Come my brave gallant come, uncase, uncase,</div> -<div class="verse">Nere shall oblivion your great actes deface.</div> -<div class="verse">He has been there where never man came yet,</div> -<div class="verse">An unknowne countrie, I, ile warrant it,</div> -<div class="verse">Whence he could Ballace a good ship in holde,</div> -<div class="verse">With Rubies, Saphiers, Diamonds and golde,</div> -<div class="verse">Great Orient Pearles esteem’d no more then moates,</div> -<div class="verse">Sould by the pecke as chandlers mesure oates,</div> -<div class="verse">I mervaile then we have no trade from thence:</div> -<div class="verse">O tis too farre it will not beare expence.</div> -<div class="verse">T’were far indeede, a good way from our mayne,</div> -<div class="verse">If charges eate up such excessive gaine,</div> -<div class="verse">Well he can shew you some of Lybian gravell,</div> -<div class="verse">O that there were another world to travell,</div> -<div class="verse">I heard him sweare that hee (twas in his mirth)</div> -<div class="verse">Had been in all the corners of the earth.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> -<div class="verse">Let all his wonders be together stitcht,</div> -<div class="verse">He threw the barre that great <em>Alcides</em> pitcht:</div> -<div class="verse">But he that saw the Oceans farthest strands,</div> -<div class="verse">You pose him if you aske where Dover stands.</div> -<div class="verse">He has been under ground and hell did see,</div> -<div class="verse"><em>Aeneas</em> nere durst goe so farre as hee.</div> -<div class="verse">For he has gone through <em>Plutœs</em> Regiment,</div> -<div class="verse">Saw how the Fiendes doe Lyers there torment.</div> -<div class="verse">And how they did in helles damnation frye,</div> -<div class="verse">But who would thinke the Traveller would lye?</div> -<div class="verse">To dine with <em>Pluto</em> he was made to tarrie,</div> -<div class="verse">As kindly us’d as at his Ordinarie.</div> -<div class="verse">Hogsheades of wine drawne out into a Tub,</div> -<div class="verse">Where he did drinke hand-smooth with <em>Belzebub</em>,</div> -<div class="verse">And <em>Proserpine</em> gave him a goulden bow,</div> -<div class="verse">Tis in his chest he cannot shew it now.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p> - -<h2><i>Of one that cousned the Cut-purse.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">One toulde a Drover that beleev’d it not,</div> -<div class="verse">What booties at the playes the Cut-purse got,</div> -<div class="verse">But if t’were so my Drovers wit was quicke,</div> -<div class="verse">He vow’d to serve the Cut-purse a new tricke.</div> -<div class="verse">Next day unto the play, pollicy hy’d,</div> -<div class="verse">A bag of fortie shillings by his side,</div> -<div class="verse">Which houlding fast he taketh up his stand,</div> -<div class="verse">If stringes be cut his purse is in his hand.</div> -<div class="verse">A fine conceited Cut-purse spying this,</div> -<div class="verse">Lookt for no more, the for shillings his,</div> -<div class="verse">Whilst my fine Politique gazed about,</div> -<div class="verse">The Cut-purse feately tooke the bottom out.</div> -<div class="verse">And cuts the strings, good foole goe make a jest,</div> -<div class="verse">This Dismall day thy purse was fairely blest.</div> -<div class="verse">Houlde fast good Noddy tis good to dreade the worse,</div> -<div class="verse">Your monie’s gone, I pray you keepe your purse.</div> -<div class="verse">The play is done and foorth the foole doth goe,</div> -<div class="verse">Being glad that he cousned the Cut-purse soe.</div> -<div class="verse">He thought to jybe how he the Cut-purse drest,</div> -<div class="verse">And memorize it for a famous jest.</div> -<div class="verse">But putting in his hand it ran quite throw</div> -<div class="verse">Dash’t the conceite, heele never speake on’t now,</div> -<div class="verse">You that to playes have such delight to goe,</div> -<div class="verse">The Cut-purse cares not, still deceive him so.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> - -<h2><i>A drunken fray.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><em>Dicke</em> met with <em>Tom</em> in faith it was their lot,</div> -<div class="verse">Two honest Drunkars must goe drinke a pot,</div> -<div class="verse">Twas but a pot, or say a little more,</div> -<div class="verse">Or say a pot that’s filled eight times ore.</div> -<div class="verse">But being drunke, and met well with the leese,</div> -<div class="verse">They drinke to healthes devoutly on their knees,</div> -<div class="verse"><em>Dicke</em> drinks to <em>Hall</em>, to pledge him <em>Tom</em> rejects,</div> -<div class="verse">And scornes to doe it for some odde respects</div> -<div class="verse">Wilt thou not pledge him thar’t a gill, a Scab,</div> -<div class="verse">Wert with my man-hood thou deservest a stab,</div> -<div class="verse">But tis no matter drinke another bout,</div> -<div class="verse">Weele intot’h field and there weele trie it out.</div> -<div class="verse">Lets goe (saies Tom) no longer by this hand,</div> -<div class="verse">Nay stay (quoth Dicke) lets see if we can stand.</div> -<div class="verse">Then forth they goe after the drunken pace,</div> -<div class="verse">Which God he knowes was with a reeling grace,</div> -<div class="verse"><em>Tom</em> made his bargaine, thus with bonnie Dicke</div> -<div class="verse">If it should chance my foote or so should slip,</div> -<div class="verse">How wouldst thou use me or after what Size,</div> -<div class="verse">Wouldst bare me shorter or wouldst let me rise.</div> -<div class="verse">Nay God forbid our quarrells not so great,</div> -<div class="verse">To kill thee on advantage in my heat.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> -<div class="verse">Tush we’le not fight for any hate or soe,</div> -<div class="verse">But for meere love that each to other owe.</div> -<div class="verse">And for thy learning loe Ile shew a tricke,</div> -<div class="verse">No sooner spoke the worde but downe comes Dicke,</div> -<div class="verse">Well now (quoth Tom) thy life hangs on my sworde,</div> -<div class="verse">If I were downe how wouldst thou keepe thy worde?</div> -<div class="verse">Why with these hilts I’de braine thee at a blow,</div> -<div class="verse">Faith in my humor cut thy throate, or soe,</div> -<div class="verse">But Tom he scorne to kill his conquered foe,</div> -<div class="verse">Lets Dicke arise, and too’t againe they goe.</div> -<div class="verse">Dicke throwes downe Tom, or rather Tom did fall,</div> -<div class="verse">My hilts (quoth Dicke) shall braine thee like a maull,</div> -<div class="verse">Is’t so (quoth Tom) good faith what remedie,</div> -<div class="verse">The Tower of Babell’s fallen and so am I.</div> -<div class="verse">But Dicke proceedes to give the fatall wound,</div> -<div class="verse">It mist his throate, but run into the ground.</div> -<div class="verse">But he supposing that the man was slaine,</div> -<div class="verse">Straight fled his contrie, ship himselfe for Spaine,</div> -<div class="verse">Whilst valiant Thomas dyed dronken deepe,</div> -<div class="verse">Forgot his danger and fell fast a sleepe.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> - -<h2><i>Epigram.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">What’s he that stares as if he were afright?</div> -<div class="verse">The fellowe sure hath seene some dreadfull spright</div> -<div class="verse">Masse rightly guest, why sure I did divine,</div> -<div class="verse">Hee’s haunted with a Spirit feminine.</div> -<div class="verse">In plaine termes thus, the Spirit that I meane,</div> -<div class="verse">His martiall wife that notable curst queane,</div> -<div class="verse">No other weapons but her nailes or fist,</div> -<div class="verse">Poore patient Idiot he dares not resist,</div> -<div class="verse">His neighbor once would borrow but his knife,</div> -<div class="verse">Good neighbor stay (quoth he) ile aske my wife:</div> -<div class="verse">Once came he home inspired in the head,</div> -<div class="verse">He found his neighbor and his wife a bed,</div> -<div class="verse">Yet durst not sturre, but hide him in a hole,</div> -<div class="verse">He feared to displease his wife poore soule.</div> -<div class="verse">But why should he so dreade and feare her hate,</div> -<div class="verse">Since she had given him armor for his pate?</div> -<div class="verse">Next day forsooth he doth his neighbor meete,</div> -<div class="verse">Whome with sterne rage thus furiously doth greete,</div> -<div class="verse">Villaine ile slit thy nose, out comes his knife,</div> -<div class="verse">Sirra (quoth he) goe to Ile tell your wife.</div> -<div class="verse">Apaled at which terror, meekely faide</div> -<div class="verse">Retire good knife my furie is allaide.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p> - -<h2><i>Proteus.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Time serving humour thou wrie-faced Ape,</div> -<div class="verse">That canst transforme thy selfe to any shape:</div> -<div class="verse">Come good <em>Proteus</em> come away a pace,</div> -<div class="verse">We long to see thy mumping Antique face.</div> -<div class="verse">This is the fellow that lives by his wit,</div> -<div class="verse">A cogging knave and fawning Parrasit,</div> -<div class="verse">He has behaviour for the greatest porte,</div> -<div class="verse">And hee has humors for the rascall sorte,</div> -<div class="verse">He has beene great with Lordes and high estates,</div> -<div class="verse">They could not live without his rare conceites,</div> -<div class="verse">He was associat for the bravest spirits,</div> -<div class="verse">His galland carriage such favour merrits.</div> -<div class="verse">Yet to a Ruffiin humor for the stewes,</div> -<div class="verse">A right graund Captaine of the damned crewes,</div> -<div class="verse">With whome his humor alwayes is unstable</div> -<div class="verse">Mad, melancholly, drunke and variable.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> -<div class="verse">Hat without band like cutting Dicke he goe’s,</div> -<div class="verse">Renowned for his new invented oathes.</div> -<div class="verse">Sometimes like a Civilian, tis strange</div> -<div class="verse">At twelve a clocke he must unto the Change,</div> -<div class="verse">Where being thought a Marchant to the eye,</div> -<div class="verse">He tels strange newes his humor is to lie.</div> -<div class="verse">Some Damaske coate the effect thereof must heare,</div> -<div class="verse">Invites him home and there he gets good cheare.</div> -<div class="verse">But how is’t now such brave renowned wits,</div> -<div class="verse">Weare ragged robes with such huge gastly slits,</div> -<div class="verse">Faith thus a ragged humour he hath got</div> -<div class="verse">Whole garments for the Summer are too hot.</div> -<div class="verse">Thus you may censure gently if you please,</div> -<div class="verse">He weares such garments onely for his ease.</div> -<div class="verse">Or thus his credit will no longer wave.</div> -<div class="verse">For all men know him for a prating knave.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<h2><i>Epigram.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">A Scholer newly entred marriage life</div> -<div class="verse">Following his studdie did offend his wife,</div> -<div class="verse">Because when she his company expected,</div> -<div class="verse">By bookish busines she was still neglected:</div> -<div class="verse">Comming unto his studdy, Lord (quoth she)</div> -<div class="verse">Can papers cause you love them more than mee:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> -<div class="verse">I would I were transform’d into a Booke</div> -<div class="verse">That your affection might upon me looke,</div> -<div class="verse">But in my wish, withall be it decreed,</div> -<div class="verse">I would be such a Booke you love to reede,</div> -<div class="verse">Husband (quoth she) which books form should I take,</div> -<div class="verse">Marry (said hee) t’were best an Almanacke,</div> -<div class="verse">The reason wherefore I doe wish thee so,</div> -<div class="verse">Is, every yeare wee have a new you knowe.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<h2><i>Epigram.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Sira, come hether boy, take view of mee,</div> -<div class="verse">My Lady I am purpos’d to goe see:</div> -<div class="verse">What doth my feather flourish with a grace,</div> -<div class="verse">And this same dooble sette become my face,</div> -<div class="verse">How descent doth this doublets forme appeare</div> -<div class="verse">(I would I had my sute in houns-ditch heere)</div> -<div class="verse">Do not my spurs pronounce a silver sounde?</div> -<div class="verse">Do’s not my hose circumference profounde?</div> -<div class="verse">Sir these are well, but there is one thing ill,</div> -<div class="verse">Your Tailour with a sheete of paper bill,</div> -<div class="verse">Vowes heel’e be paid, and Serjeants he had feed,</div> -<div class="verse">Which wayte your comming forth to do thy deede:</div> -<div class="verse">Boy god-amercy let my Lady stay,</div> -<div class="verse">Ile see no counter for her sake to day.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p> - -<h2><i>Much a doe about chusing a wife.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">A Widdower would have a wife were old,</div> -<div class="verse">Past charge of children to prevent expence</div> -<div class="verse">Her chests and bagges cram’d till they crake with gold,</div> -<div class="verse">And she unto her grave post quickly hence,</div> -<div class="verse">But if all this were fitting to his minde,</div> -<div class="verse">Where is his lease of life to stay behinde?</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">A Batcheler would have wife were wise,</div> -<div class="verse">Faire, Rich and Younge, a maiden for his bed,</div> -<div class="verse">Not proude, nor churlish but of fautles size,</div> -<div class="verse">A country housewife, in the Citty bred.</div> -<div class="verse">But hees a foole and longe in vaine hath staide,</div> -<div class="verse">He shoulde bespeake her, there’s none ready made.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p> - -<h2><i>The taming of a wilde Youth.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Of late a deare and loving friend of mine,</div> -<div class="verse">That all his time a Gallant youth had bene,</div> -<div class="verse">From mirth to melancholy did decline,</div> -<div class="verse">Looking exeeding pale, leane, poore, and thin,</div> -<div class="verse">I ask’d the cause he brought me through the streete,</div> -<div class="verse">Unto his house, and there hee let me see,</div> -<div class="verse">A woman proper, faire, wise and discreete</div> -<div class="verse">And said behould, heer’s that hath tamed mee,</div> -<div class="verse">Hath this (quoth I,) can such a wife do so?</div> -<div class="verse">Lord how is he tam’d then, that hath a shrow.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p> - -<h2><i>A straunge sighted Traveller.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">An honest Country foole being gentle bred,</div> -<div class="verse">Was by an odde conceited humor led,</div> -<div class="verse">To travell and some English fashions see,</div> -<div class="verse">With such strange sights as heere at London be.</div> -<div class="verse">Stuffing his purse with a good golden some,</div> -<div class="verse">This wandring knight did to the Cittie come,</div> -<div class="verse">And there a servingman he entertaines,</div> -<div class="verse">An honester in Newgate not remaines.</div> -<div class="verse">He shew’d his Maister sights to him most strange,</div> -<div class="verse">Great tall Pauls Steeple and the royall-Exchange:</div> -<div class="verse">The Bosse at <em>Billings-gate</em> and <em>London-stone</em></div> -<div class="verse">And at <em>White-Hall</em> the monstrous great Whales bone,</div> -<div class="verse">Brought him to the banck-side where Beares do dwell</div> -<div class="verse">And unto <em>Shor-ditch</em> where the whores keepe hell,</div> -<div class="verse">Shew’d him the Lyons, Gyants in Guild-Hall,</div> -<div class="verse">King <em>Lud</em> at <em>Lud-gate</em>, the <em>Babounes</em> and all,</div> -<div class="verse">At length his man, on all he had did pray,</div> -<div class="verse">Shew’d him a theevish trick and ran away,</div> -<div class="verse">The Traveller turnd home exceeding civill,</div> -<div class="verse">And swore in London he had seene the Devill.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> - -<h2><i>Three kinde of Couckoldes</i>,<br /> -One, And None.</h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">First there’s a Cuckolde called One and None,</div> -<div class="verse">Which foole, from fortune hath receiv’d such favour</div> -<div class="verse">He hath a wife for beutie stands alone,</div> -<div class="verse">Grac’d with good carriage, and most sweete behaviour</div> -<div class="verse">Nature so bounteous hath her gifts extended.</div> -<div class="verse">From head to foote ther’s nothing to be mended.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Besides, she is as perfect chast, as faire,</div> -<div class="verse">But being married to a jealous asse,</div> -<div class="verse">He vowes she hornes him, for he feeles a paire</div> -<div class="verse">Have bin a growing ever since last grasse,</div> -<div class="verse">No contrary perswasions hee’l indure,</div> -<div class="verse">But’s wife is faire and hee’s a Cuckolde sure.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> - -<h2><i>The second.</i><br /> -None, and One.</h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">The second hath a wife that loves the game,</div> -<div class="verse">And playes the secret cunnig whore at plaisure.</div> -<div class="verse">But in her husbands sight shees wondrous tame,</div> -<div class="verse">Which makes him vow, he hath <em>Ulisses</em> treasure.</div> -<div class="verse">Sheele wish al whores were hang’d, with weeping teares</div> -<div class="verse">Yet she her selfe a whores cloathes dayly weares.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Her husbāds friends report how’s wife doth gull him</div> -<div class="verse">With false deceitfull and dissembling showe</div> -<div class="verse">And that by both his hornes a man may pull him,</div> -<div class="verse">To such a goodly length they daylie growe,</div> -<div class="verse">He sayes they wrong her, and he sweares they lye,</div> -<div class="verse">His wife is chaste, and in that minde hee’le dye.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p> - -<h2><i>The Third</i>,<br /> -One, and One.</h2> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">The third is he that knowes women are weake,</div> -<div class="verse">And therefore they are dayly apt to fall,</div> -<div class="verse">Words of unkindnesse their kind hearts may breake,</div> -<div class="verse">They are but flesh and therefore sinners all,</div> -<div class="verse">His wife is not the first hath trod a wry,</div> -<div class="verse">Amongst his neighbours he as bad can spye.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">What can he helpe it if his wife do ill,</div> -<div class="verse">But take it as his crosse and be content,</div> -<div class="verse">For quietnesse he lets her have her will,</div> -<div class="verse">When shee is old perhaps she will repent,</div> -<div class="verse">Let every one amend their one bad life,</div> -<div class="verse">Th’are knaves and queans that medle with his wife.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="center">FINIS.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/deco6.jpg" width="500" height="50" alt="Decorative image" /> -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Humors Looking Glasse, by Samuel Rowlands - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HUMORS LOOKING GLASSE *** - -***** This file should be named 55621-h.htm or 55621-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/6/2/55621/ - -Produced by ellinora, Bryan Ness and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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