OJorncU IniuecattH Etbcarg BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF HENRY W. SAGE 1891 Cornell University Library PR 1209.F2 1874 v.1-2 Facetiae. Musarum deliciaeior, The muses 3 1924 012 980 664 Cornell University Library The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924012980664 THE MUSES RECREATION, WIT RESTOR'D, AND WITS RECREATIONS. ^ Musarum Delicise : The Muses Recreation. conteining severall pieces of poetique wit. By S'. J. M. and Ja: S. 1636. Wit Restor'd, in severall select poems, not formerly publish'!. 1658. Wits Recreations, selected from the finest fancies of modeme muses, with a thousand out-landish proverbs. 1640. The whole diligently compared with the Originals; with all the Wood Engravings, Plates, Memcnrs, and Notes. New Edition. With additional Notes, Indexes, and a portrait of Sir John Mennis, K'.-. In two Volumes. Vol. I. London : JOHN CAMDEN HOTTEN, PICCADILLY. ADVERTISEMENT. OF the poets of the Restoration there are none whose wotks are more rare than those of Sir John Mennis, and Dr. James Smith. The small volume entitled " Musarum Delicim or ike Muses Recreations," which contains the productions of these two friends, was not accessible to Mr. Freeman when he compiled his " Kentish Poets;" and has since become so rare that it is now only to he found in the cabinets of the curious.* A reprint (limited to 150 copies) of the "Musarum Delicice,'' together with several kindred pieces of the same period, appeared in 18 17, forming two volumes of Facetice, edited by Mr. E. Dubois,- author of " The Wreath^' &c., and these volumes have in turn become exceedingly scarce, t The publisher has therefore ventured to put forth the present New Edition, in which it will be found that, while nothing has been omitted, great pains have been taken to render it more complete and elegant than any that has yet appeared. The type, plates, and woodcuts of the originals have been accurately followed, and the notes of the editor 6f 181 7 considerably augmented. Indexes have also been added, together with a portrait of Sir John Mennis from a painting by Vandyke in Lord Clarendon's collection. * This small volume, a l2mo of 101 pages, realized £,1 13s. at the sale of the Rev. T. Corser's library by Messrs. Sotheby and Co. in 1870, and has since fetched ;f3 los. + A copy was recently catalogued at £^ 5s, PREFACE THE EDITION OF 1817. THESE Faceti^, ox drolleries, having been committed to the care of the present editor by the pubHshers, who were desirous of a limited reprint of them for the con- venience and satisfaction of the curious in such rarities of " th' olden time," it now becomes his duty more minutely to explain the nature of the undertaking. It is here proposed to form two volumes of three distinct publications ; Musarum Delicti ; Wit Restor'd ; and Wit's Recreations. The first and second are given entire, as they appear in editions 1656 and 1658. The third. Wit's Recreations, is reprinted after the collation of four editions, 1640-41-54 and 63, for the purpose of bringing together in one body all the various articles spread throughout, and not to be found in any one edition. For instance, there are many pieces in ed. 1640 that are not in 1641, many in 1641 not in 1640, and many in 1640 and 1641 not in 1654, and vice versA. The edit. 1663* is a reprint of 1654, with a * There are, as the editor reads in the Censura Literaria, two later editions, one of 1667 and the other of 1683, but he has been unable to b2 viii Preface. small addition towards the end, from " On a patched up Madam," to " The farewell to love and to his mistresse," inclusive. The first edition, 1640, contains neither the plates,* nor the Fancies and Fantasticks, nor the lines " ad Lector em." The titles to these books are replete with delightful promise. Musarum Delicice is potently attractive ; Wits meet with them. A MS. note remarks that the frontispiece in edit. 1667 is retouched, and MarihaWs name erased. It is to be observed that the date at the end of ed. 1654 is 1667. * This statement was made on the authority of several copies of the date 1640, when the editor accidentally met Mr. P. Bliss, of St. John's, Oxford, to whom he is obliged for the information, that the copy 1640, in the Bodleian, has a frontispiece, which differs from the one here engraved in the following particulars. The two compartments on the right (as it is viewed) of the plate 1640, represent, the one above, a bee- hive and a swarm, with the words "«»» nobis" inscribed on it; and the lower one, "windy musick," such as a bag-pipe, flute, trumpet, &c. On the opposite page is an explanation in twelve verses, where, instead of the couplet : " 'Vcasfoole, that knave, stands here to th' view of others, " To shew that in the book th'ave many brothers," are introduced, or rather there stood originally, these four lines explanatory : " These painefull Bees, presented to thy view, " Shewes th' Author works not for kimselfe, but you. " The windy musick, that salutes thine eye, • ' Bespeakes thine eare, thy judgement standing by." The title on the table in the middle runs thus : "Witts Recreations, selected from the finest fancies of modernt Muses, mth a Thousand out-Landish Proverbs." These Proverbs, a copy in the valuable collection of Mr. James Perry has, with his kind permission, supplied. Preface. ix ■.Recreations exceedingly fascinating : and Wit Restor'd is enough to make one jump for joy. The reader really " stupet in TiTULis." Yet is it to be feared that what was said of SulpicicHs, often but too truly describes our author's " DELICIAS, FACETIASQUE. " Cujus Carmina qui bene (EstimarU, " Nitllam dixerit esse nequiorem." It is confessed that there are pieces, which display some very poetical and harmonious numbers, and it may also be affirmed that there is no want of wit and pleasantry,. but the lack of grace and bienstance is superabundant ; for which it may be doubted whether by any, except the black-letter tribe. Sir William Padys excuse will be received : " 1 dare assure 'em, " Though't be contra modestiam, 'tis not contra naturem." Mus. Del. p. 69. No apology is necessary to those for whom this pubUca- tion is almost exclusively intended, as the editor has frequently remarked that very grave collectors can smile with infinite complacency on impurities in an old book, no particle of which would for an instant be endured by them in a new one. This love and reverence for the antique mother is not however peculiar to them, as it is not rarely seen in classical old gentlemen of much piety and worth, who, though they would frown the utterer of an English double entendre into dust, will chuckle at and enjoy a quotation from Juvenal, or Horace, or certain Latin epigrams, which, if translated and delivered in societies, by X Preface. no means puritanical, would speedily send the speaker on his travels by the nearest outlet, door or window. The wits of other days were remarkably facetious and happy in the formation of title-pages; like signs at a fair, they are often the best part of the exhibition ; and there you may stop if you please — ^'Lemmata si qutsris cur sint adscripta, docebo : " Ut, si malueris, lemmata sola legos." To the title and frontispiece of a copy of " Witts Recrea- tions, 1641," is suffixed this couplet in MS. " Take my advice, no fitrther look, " This only page is worth thi book," which seems to have been borrowed from some other title- page, probably more worthy of it. But as these titles are such important matters, it will be just not to defraud the reader of the variety of the editions of Wits Recreations. Edit. 1 641. " Wits Recreations. Containing 630 Epigrams. 160 Epitaphs. Fancies Variety of ■ and . Fantasticks Good for melancholly humours. Mart. Non. cuique datur habere nasum. London, Printed by Thomas Cotes, for Humphry Blunden at the Castle in Corn-hill. 1641." Of Preface^ xi Edit. 1634. "Recreation for ingenious HSad-peeces. Or. a pLEASAiJT Grove for their Wits to walk in. Epigrams 700, Epita,phs 20a Fancies, a number. .Fantasticks, abundance "With their addition, multiplication, and division. Mart. Non cuique datur habere nasum. London, Printed by Mi Siintnohs, in Aldersgate-Street, At the end we have tlie date " 1667*" Edit. 1663 differs from the last in nothing but the datCj aiid " S." for M. Simmons. The date 1663 is repeated after Wit's Recreations bektg a mass oijeiix d'esprit, written and collected at various periods, it would be idle to attempt to speak df the authors ; but tiie editor has given sotne account of Sir John Mennis and Dr. James Smith, which, as their names respect the MusamM Etdicim; and Wit Re- stor'd, will, it is hoped, at this hour of the day, be found reasonably satisfactory. Notes might be written, a« they have: been in better cases,, to a surfeit, supplying a gloss to obsolete terms, explaining allusions, and pointing out borrowers, who have exercised all the freedom of Englishmen, perfectly uncontaminated with their honesty.* This would here however be " in tmui * Itos literaiy freebooting has always obtained, but it undoubtedly appears in a very uncommon point of view, when we find sorrte of xii Preface. labor;' and very small the glory. Still, as a specimen, which may be agreeable to those, who make researches into such trifles, for there are yet some, who praise - a note " More than the verse, on which the Critic wrote,"* a few illustrative comments shall be. offered. Remembering the fatal consequence of scouring ; the Connoisseur's Roman Vase, the editor has not presumed to brush off any of the sacred dust from these volumes. Here is the ancient metal with all its precious osrugo — ^the spelling and what not being carefully preserved, and sent forth, according to the edition printed from, with rarely a single imperfection removed to warrant the gentlest sigh of doting lamentation. " Carmine. The very mutilatioTis of this piece are worth all the most perfect performances of modern artists.. Baron de Groningen. Upon my honour, 'tis a very fine bust ; but where is de nose ? our most approved Irish Balls in the osreio of Hierocles, the phtcmic philosopher I Take, for a sample, the first in his collectitMi, which shall be given in his own words, as it can have no claim to novelty in any other shape. 2x<'Xo<''"f OS KoKviiP(}v pov\o/ievos rapa lUKpov eirviyri. Q/io3l pieces of poetic wit. Lo^d. 1655. pet. 2d. edi(t. J1656. Jahes SjHXH, whom I have iaention,ed iwdejr the year j6(57, b^d so gre^t a liafld ip .that book that he is esteemed tlie a.uthpr aJropst qf Jwlf of it Sir Jf^n ]!i£enms hath ajsp written ; "Epsom Wells, » poem, printed in qa. and divers other poems, scattered in other men's >vorks. He hath sJsp extant ^ ipock poe» BP ^ir Will. Davetf/int s»d hi? Gonfiiiert; and did assist, as I h^ve heen credibly informed. Sir John Suckling in the composition of some of his * t66i, Nov, 2nd. — " At the office aU the wtwwng ; whene Sir Jolm Miinnes, our new Comptipller, w*s fetdnad by Sir Wjji. Pen and wys^ from Sir Wm. B^ttea's, & led to bis place i^i .the office. The first tiipse that he had come thither, and lie spents is a good fair .concJitioB, /awJ one that I amgla4 hath the office." — Pepys' Djaiy. ■+ Not Dover but Walmer, "Captain ai Waimer C»stle. Jflto Mennes, appoi»,ted Npy. 10. l^'^ "-^Hasted, Kfnt.. Ajig. U, J-SS?"^ "Petition of Sir John iMenuss, govemor of Wsimsr Ca<«l«."---Cal»»<3v of State Papers. Sir yohn Mennis. 5 poetry ; on whom, and his fine troOp of horSe {hat I'afi away, when they Wet-e to engage with the enemy, he wrote a scoffing ballad. At length, he having lived beyond the age of man, concluded his last day in the NaVy Office, in Seething Lake, <<'ithin the city of London, on Saturday, the l8th of February, 1670 : Whereupon his body was buried at the Upper end 6f the chaHcel of the church ctf S. Oleics, in Hart Street, oft the 27th day of the same month. Soon after was a neat monument erected over his grave, with an inscription thereon, much becoming the person fot Ivhoftl it was set up. His eldest brother, which his father had by his first wife Elizabeth War/iam*, was named Mattheu/^i who was created Knight of the Bath at the coronation of K. Charles 1. The second was named Thorh-as, who was buried in the church of S. Peter, in Sand-wich) in Jan. I631." — Athen. Oxon. vol. ii. p. 482. We have, out of respect for Anthony Wood, transcribed all that he has said on this headi, and more might be added from other sources, but we refrain from giving any further taste of the family tree. After a diligent search through all the histories of the civil wars, and the state papers,, we can gather nothing to our purpose prior to the Restoration, except from Lord Clarendon. Of the revolt of the fleet in the reign of Charles I. his lordship observes : "The rear-admiral, Sir John MervtieS, who was of unquestionable integrity, and Captain Burly, were the only two who refused to submit to the Earl of Warwick, the Parliament high-admiral. They were quickly discharged, and set on shore, and the rest, without any scruple or hesitation, obliged themselves to obey the Earl of Warwick in the * No doubt related to Archbishop Warham. — Ed. + Sir Matthew Mennis is, in Anstis Garter's Observations introductory to an Historical Essay upon the Knighthood of the Bath, erroneously called Sir Matthew Monins. The Mennis family bore gules, a chevron vairy azure and or, betw. three leopards' faces of the last ; and were mentioned in a visitation of Kent by the heralds in 1619. Hasted, the Kentish historian, had the MS. but it was burnt. — Ed. 6 Memoirs of service of the parliament : so that the storm was now over, and the parliament fully and entirely possessed of the royal navy and militia by sea, for they quickly disposed of two other honest captains, Kettleby and Stradlin, whom they could not corrupt, who guarded the Irish seas, and got those ships likewise in their service. And thus his majesty was without one ship of his ovra in his three kingdoms, at his devo- tion." This noble fidelity is a lasting honour to Sir John and the three brave captains, who durst remain loyal and true in a time of universal treason. When Prince Rupert undertook the care of the little but faithful fleet, which he had col- - lected together, he appointed Sir J. Mennis commander of the Swallow, a ship of which he had many years before been captain. This squadron sailed to Helvoetsluys, but the prevailing party defeated the great object of the expe- dition. Sir John afterwards appears to have been appointed to co-operate with the loyal Colonel Penruddock, in the revolt against Cromwell, but the cause was weakly supported, and terminated in the ruin of several on land — happily Sir John was safe. He continued with his sovereign till the Restoration, when his merit was well remembered. The gaiety of his spirits, and his mental abilities, greatly assisted his interest. Nautical men are generally sent to sea with very little learning; but he, being both a scholar and a gentleman, was probably the most accomplished seaman in the fleet, with the exception of the Earl of Sandwich, who was able to distinguish himself by his pen and his pencil, as well as by his sword, as his MSS. abuntantly testify. By these MSS. it is evident that his lordship highly valued Sir John Minns, as he writes the name. In 1661-2 he was with that nobleman at Tangier, when a mole was to be formed Sir yohn Mennis. 7 there. In 1662 we find him with Lord Sandwich at Lisbon, to whose court he went to receive Catherine, the infanta, the consort of Charles II. We here see him employed in taking and valuing the jewels, which composed a part of the queen's fortune. At this period he was vice-admiral of the fleet, and without doubt received some valuable presents, as well from the court of Portugal, as from his own. Whatever his gallantry, however, it must have been put exceedingly to the test by the Portuguese maids of honour, who accompanied her majesty to England, for they seem to have been care- fully and most skilfully selected for their extreme ugliness. We hear little of him after this time, when indeed his age and services required retirement. He had outlived the wits of his youthful days, and England was more strange to him than the continent, where he had spent so large a portion of his life. Were it worth the enquiry, many notices of him and Dr. Smith might perhaps be found in the writings of their contemporaries*. Neither Sir John, nor any of his family, sat in parliament after the return of Charles II. The monument referred to by Anthony Wood is fixed to * In Sir John Denhanis poems is an epistle "To Sir yohn Mennis, being invited from Calais to Bologne to eat a pig." It begins thus : ' ' All on a weeping Monday With a fat Bulgarian sloven, Little Admiral John To Bologne is gone, " &c. And in Rich. Fleckno's Diarium, 1656, are these lines : "our English Dr. Smith, Whose muse so bonny is and blithe ; Or, in fine, of Sir John Mennis, For excellence yieldeth not to anys.'' 8 Memoirs iif the south arigle of th6 chaileel wall in the ichtirch of St. Oldve, Hart Sttee^ a6d bears this inscriptioti : Hfeic situS est D. Johannes Mennesius Eq Aurat. Sandovisi Cantiinus . Andrafe Mennes Ar (Matthaeii filii) fiUus -Ex jBna Johahnis Blehdiendeii Af Filla Vir probus, Fortis; Benignus, Pius Rei, Medico, Chymic*, Poetic£e,_ Ghanis Oiiiniuin quibus notes deliciae Vix adultus orbis omnes fere oras appulit Sites Kegiminis comercii, morum explorator Terra marique et peduelles Jacobo, Carolo primo & secundo Regibus Hyppircailis', Strategus, Hypo-Thalarsiarchi Rei Classiarise Inspector summus ; Variifeet ardtiis coiifectus ; Glarae prqsapise decus nominis ultimns ^Natus I Martii 1598 18'* Febr 1670 DenaSiis The Censura Literaria, vol. iv. p. 398-9, quotes a curious tract, entitled " A Relation of this Insurrection^" 1650, lamo. by Matthew Carter, which relates to the Kentish insurrection, 1648, in favour of the king, in which Sir John was implicated; and also gives, from Topogr, iii. p. 154, this epitaph on a mural tablet at Nonington, Kent, to the memory of his wife : Hie sunt depositee Jan« reliquiae Ab antiqua generosorum Liddellomm familia oriundse Ex eastgllo de feavens^vorth in agrd Dunelm'eiisi Johamiis Mennes Equitis anrati Anglo-Cantiani conjugis, maris Anglicani Vice-Admiralli. Ilia, absentfe Sub velis klarlto Regiis Reginarh eX Gallii Mariam fe^eheiitibus Apud Fredville JohanniS Boys annigeri Dccumbens Hospitali istius humauitate Hie inhumater In sactam dilectissimse consortis itaeffiL^am Mariti pietate hoc marmor erigiter, Nata anno circiter 1602, Julii 23, 1662, Denata. Arms, Mennes, impaling irg-. frdtt^^lBsdn a Chief of the second, three leopards' heads for Liddle. Sir yohn Mennis. 9 The will of Sir John Mennis, of which an abstract is here given, is deposited in the Principal Registry of the Court of Probate, Doctors' Commons. Sir yohn Mennes, ^/., dated 15 May, 1669. "All my messuages, lands, tenements, &c., in Loughton or elsewhere in CO. Essex, holden of the manor there, to my nephew Francis Hamdioh, son of my IktS feisttfir, Maty Hammon, deceased, and to his heirs for ever ; also to said Francis Hammon my right, &c., in the moiety of the rectory of Woodnesborrow in Ken% on condition that he assign to my executrix his lease of the rectory and Grange of Walmer, in said co< Kent, my said executrix, her executors) &c, to hold same to use of my niece Mrs. Jane Moyk, wife of Anthony Moyle, Esq., for her life, remainder to use of her children living at her decease, my ©xecutrix to expend ;^ioo in placing out to some good ealling John Moyle, son of said Jane Moyle; to miy niece, the Lady Heath, my g3?eat 'Portugal jewel! containing 180 diaflionds set in gold \ tM* *\g^ fM^ i)£y» f^jy* "m^ f^jy* ')jy* *'jy* •\A/» "^n^f* *^n/» To a friend upon a journey to Epsam Well. SIR, though our flight deserves no care Of your enquiry, where we are ; Yet for to put you out of doubt, Read but these Lines, yxju'l smell us out We having at the Mazard din'd. Where Veal and Mutton open chin'd. Hang on the Shambles ; thence we pate To Putney s Ferry : Coomes old Chase We next pass'd o'le, then to the town Which name of King doth much renowne ; Where having supp'd we went to bed, Our selves and Cattell wearied. Next morning e're the sun appear'd. Our horses and our selves well chear'd ; 2 2 Musarum DelicicB : Or, To Epsam Well we asked the way, Of young and old, of poor and gay : Where, after five or six mistakes, We found the Spring, neer hid with brakes. These waters deer, two Hermits keep. Who alwaies either wake, or sleep ; And by alternate courses, wait On Man or Beast, if here you bait. 'Tis here the people farre and neer, Bring their diseases and go clear, Some drink of it, and in an houre. Their Stomach, Guts, and Kidneys scower : Others doe Bathe, and Ulcers cure. Dry Itch, and Leprosie impure ; And what in Lords you call the Gout, In poor the Pox, this drives all out. Close by the Well, you may discerne Small shrubs of Eglantin and Fern, Which shew the businesse of the place ; Por here old Ops her upper face Is yellow, not with heat of summer, But safroniz'd with mortall scumber. But then the pity to behold Those antient Authore, which of old Wrote down for us. Philosophy, Physick, Music, and Ifoetry, Now to no other purpose tend. But to defend the fingers end. Here lies Romes Naso torn and rent. Now reeking from the fundament ; The Muses Recreation. 23 Galens old rules could not suffice, Nor yet Hippocrates the wise. Not teaching, how to dense, can doe, Themselves must come and wipe it too. Here did lye Virgil, there lay Horace, Which newly had wip'd his, or her Arse. Anacreon reeled too and fro, Vex'd, that they us'd his papers so. And Tully with his Offices, Was forc'd to do such works as these. Here lies the Letter of a Lover, Which piece-meale did the thing discover. Sonnets halfe written would not stay. But must necessity obey. This made us for a while to think, The Muses here did seldome drink : But hap what would, we light from stirrup, And streight descend to drinke the syrrup. The good old Father takes a cup. When five times wash'd, he fills it up With this priz'd Liquor, then doth tell The strange effects of this new Well. Quoth he, my friends, though I be plaine, I have seen here many a goodly train Of Lords and Ladies, richly clad. With Aches more then ere I had : These having drunk a week, or so, Away with health most jocund go : Meanwhile the Father thus did prate, We still were drinking as we sat ; 24 Musarum Delicm : Or, Till Gut by rumbling, us beseeches, My boyes, beware, you'l wrong your Breeches. Ah, doth it worke ? the old man cryes, Yonder are brakes to hide your thighes. Where, though 'twere near we hardly came. Ere one of us had been to blame. Here no Olympick games they use. No wrestling here. Limbs to abuse, But he that gains the glory here Must scumber furthest, shite most clear. And, for to make us emulate. The good old Father doth relate The vigour of our Ancestors, Whose shiting far exceeded ours. Quoth be, doe you see that below ? I doe, quoth I, his head's now low. But here have 1 seen cA& John Jones, From this hill, shite to yonder stones. But him Heaven rest, the man is dead. This speech of his me netled ; With that my head I straightway put Between my knees, and mounting scut. At chiefest randome, forty five. With Lyon's face, dung forth I drive. The ayre's divided, and it flies. Like Draco volans to the skies. Or who had seen a Conduit break. And at the hole with fury reak : Had he but hither took the paine To come, had seen it once againe. The Muses Recreation. Here Colon play'd his part indeed, And over-shit the stones a reed. Whereat the Father, all amaz'd, Limps to the place, where having gaz'd With heav'd up hands, and fixed eyes, Quoth he ; Dear, let me kisse those thighs, That prop the taile will carry hence Our glory and magnificence. His suit being granted, home he walkes, And to himselfe of wonders talkes ; From whence he brings a painted stake. High to be seen, above the Brake : And having ask'd my name, he writ In yellow letters, who 'twas shit. Which still stands as a Monument, Call'd LoTig-taile, from the man of Kent. This being all the first day did, We home retir'd, where we lay hid In Alehouse, till another day Shall prompt my Muse ; then more I'le say. Till when, take this, to make an end, I rest your servant, and your friend. 26 Musarum Delicia: Or, To a friend upon his Marriage. Since last I writ, I heare dear honey. Thou hast committed Matrimony ; And soberly both Morn and Even, Dost take up smock in fear of Heaven. Alas poor soul, thy marriage vow Is as the Rites, unhallowed now : Sleighted by Man, ordain'd by Bishop, Not one, whom zeal hath scar'd from his shop. The Ring prophane, and SurpUce foule. No better than a Friers Cowl, With Poesie vile, and at thy Table Fidlers, that were abhominable. Who sung, perhaps, a song oi Hymen, And not a Psalm to edifie men. It is th' opinion of this place. Thou canst not get a Babe of Grace. This story is sad ; to make amends, I'le tell thee news, to tell thy friends. You heard of late, what Chevaliers (Who durst not tarry for their eares) Prescribed were, for such a plot As might have ruin'd Heaven knows what : Suspected for the same's Will D'avenant, Whether he have been in't, or have not. The Mttses Recreation- He is committed, and, like Sloven, Lolls on his bed, in garden Coven ; He had been rack'd, as I am told. But that his body would not hold. Soon as in Kent they saw the Bard, (As to say truth, it is not hard, For Will has in his face, the flawes Of wounds receiv'd in Countreys cause :) They flew on him, like Lions passant. And tore his Nose, as much as was on't ; They call'd him Superstitious Groom, And Popish Dog, and Curre ai Rome; But this I'm sure, was the, first time. That Wills Religion was a crime. What ere he is in's outward part, He is sure a Poet in his heart. But 'tis enough, he is thy friend, And so am I, and there's an end. From London, where we sit and muse. And pay Debts when we cannot chuse ; The day that Bishops, Deans and Prebends, And all their friends, wear mourning Ribbands If this day smile, they'l ride in Coaches, And, if it frown, then Bonas Noches. 28 Musarum Delicia: Or, In answer to certaine Letters, which he received from London, whilst he was engaged to fol- low the Camp. WHat, Letters two, on New-years-day ? 'Tis signe, thy Muse hath leave to play, And swelling grape distills his Liquor, Which makes thy pulse and muse flow quicker. Alas poor Soules ! in Mud we travell. And each day vex'd with Martch and Gravel ; And when at night we come to quarter. Drink, what thou wouldst not give to Porter. From Northern soyl, I lately came. With Horses two of mine, one Lame ; But when I came to house of state. Where quondam fled his grace in plate ; Expecting after journey scurvey. Solace, I found all topsie turvy. New Orders bid me thence away, The people grumble, they want pay ; And now, like wandring Knights we wend Without a penny, or a friend : Our score grows great, from whence we goe, And every Alehouse turn'd a foe. These give their friends intelligence That we are coming, without pence ; And those we feare, will shut the door At wandring Prince, when known so poor. The Muses Recreation. 29 However, we march on to morrow, And here, and there, small summes we borrow. Judge, if thy Muse could soar so high, When pinion's clip'd, what Bird can fly ? No, no, good Wine and ease I'm bar'd of, Which makes my Muse to come so hard off; And hearing fellowes nine in London, Get cash, carouse, while I am undon : While not one Captaine here will tarry 'Sn.tjohn, with horse of Commissary ; And here he spends his time and pence, Without a hope of recompence. And scarce sees friends, but such as grutch him, If he have coyn, they none, they catch him With that old beaten trodden way, Jack, canst thou lend, till next pay-day ? Till now, at length my pocket's grown Like Nest defil'd, when Bird is flown. Judge, from such stories, if you can Expect a Muse from any man. Yet have I still respects from them. Who weekly think upon J. M. To noble Kenelm, say, I drink. And unto Lord of Downe, I thinke The day, vthtn Janus, with face double, . Looks on the pass'd and coming trouble. The first day ever rich or poor. Wrote forty yeares, and one before. The Hou.se, the Talbot, Comey host, My liquor now, but ale and tost. 30 Musarum Delicm : Or, The Answer. WHy seeks my friend so vain excuse, For .the long silence of his Muse ; As if her faculty were worse,. Because joyn'd with an empty purse? Lines may accrew, although the pence That use to purchase Influence From constellation of Carney, Be fewer, then will fee Attorney. Thou knowst that Vacuus cantabit, (Ther's Latin for thee, though but a bit) Sing then, and let's be free from blame, Thy Verse is fat, thov^h horse be lame. Seest thou not, Ovid, Homer, Virgil, With Muse more needy, _/tf^, then your Gill, Indite things high, and rest the Ivie, From wealthy Tacitus and Livie: From Cicero, (that wrote in Prose) So call'd, from Rouncival on's nose ? For, though 'twas hid, till now of late, Yet 'tis a truth, as firme as fate. That Poets, when their Money scants. Are oft inspired by their wants. Want makes them rage, and rage Poetick Makes Muse, and Muse makes work for Critick. The Muses Recreation. 31 As for thy pocket, which thou sayst, Is like to a defiled Nest, A Nest, that is of all bereft, Save what the Cat in Maulthouse left ; There is a Proverb to thy comfort, Known as the ready way to Rumford, That, when the pot ore fire you heat, A Lowse is better than no meat ; So, in your pocket by your favour, Something you know, will have some savour. But soft, the word is now come forth, We all must pack into the North ; When minde of Man was set to play. And riding Boot lay out o'th' way ; We were commanded in a Minute, To journey base, the Devil's in it ; For now I have no more minde to't, Then is an Apple like a Nut : Yet look I must for riding tackle. In comers of my Tabernacle ; And look, as men for slanders heark. Or one that gropes in privy darke, So must I search with fear of minde. And seek for what I would not finde. Had I two faces, like to Janus, (A month that now hath overtane us.) With one of them I'le smile in Town, While tother 'mong my foes did frown. But wishes help not, nor can with- Hold, from embracing thee, James Smith, Musarum Delicics : Or, Long Aker, from the Angel Tavern, Two hundred miles from head of Severn. Where, for my shillings twain, I dine. With Tongue of Neat, far worse then mine : The tenth of yanuary day durty, One thousand, hundreds six, and forty. •\Ar* *^u* '\&/* '^lu* 'w* •y^ '^ly* '^J^' v^* 'yv '^^* '^fl^ *^^ *^j/* 'w» ^jj^ Description of three Beauties. PHilodea and Pamela sweet. By chance in one great house did meet. And meeting did so joyne in heart, That t'one from t'other could not part And who, indeed, not made of Stones, Would separate such lovely ones ? The one is beautifull, and faire. As Lillies and white Roses are ; And sweet, as after gentle showers, The breath is of ten thousand flowers. From due proportion, a sweet aire Circles the other, not so faire ; Which so her Brown doth beautifie, That it inchants the wisest eye. Have you not seen, on some bright day, Two goodly Horses, ^Vhite, and Bay, Which were so beauteous in their pride. You knew not which to chuse, or ride ? The Muses Recreation. .33 Such are these two, you scarce can tell, Which is the daintier Bonny bell ? And they are such, as, by my troth, I had been dead in love with both. And might have sadly said, goodnight Discretion, and good fortune quite. But that God Cupid, my old Master, Presented me a Soveraigne plaister : Mopsa, even Mopsa, prety Mouse, Best piece of Wainscot in the House ; Whose Saffron Teeth, and Lips of Leeks, Whose Corall Nose, and Parchment Cheeks ; Whose Past-board forehead, .eyes of Ferret, Breast of brown Paper, Neck of Caret ; And other parts,; not^^evident, For which dame nature, should be sheiit. Are Spells and Charms of great renown. Concupiscence to conjure downe. How oft have I been reft of sence, By gazing on their excellence, Till meeting Mopsa in my way, And looking on her face- of Clay, I soon was cur'd and made as sound, As though I never had a wound. And, when, in Tables of my heart, Love with such. things as bred my smart ; My Mopsa, \n\h. her face of Clout, Would in an instant wipe them out : And when their faces made me sick, Mopsa would come with hers of Brick, VOL. I. D 34 Musarum Delicice : Or, A little heated by the fire, And break the neck of my desire. Now from their face I turne mine eyes, But (cruel Panthers) they surprize Me with their breath, that incense sweet. Which onely for the gods is meet ; And jointly from them doth respire Like both the Indies set on fire. Which so orecomes mans ravish'd sence, That Soules to follow it, fly hence. Nor such like smell you, as you range By th'Stocks, or Old, or New Exchange. Then stood I still as any Stock, Till Mopsa with her puddle Dock, Her Compound or Electuary, Made of old Ling, or Caviaiy, Bloat Herring, Cheese, or voided Physick, (Being sometimes troubled with the Tysick) Did Cough, and fetch a sigh so deep. As did her very bottom sweep ; Whereby to all she did impart, How Love lay rankling at her heart ; Which when I smelt, desire was slaine, And they breath forthe perfumes in vaine. Their Angels voice surpriz'd me now. But Mopsa's shrill ; To whit to whoo Descending through her hollow Nose, Did that distemper soon compose. And therefore, Oh thou vertuous Owle, The wise Minerva's onely fowle : The Muses Recreation., 3 5 What at thy shrine shall I devise To offer up for Sacrifice ? Hang jEsculapius, and Apollo, Hang Ovid with his precepts shallow : With patience who will now indure Your slow and most uncertaine cure, Seeing Mopsa's found, for Man and Beast, To be the %\a^ probatum est 1 Oh thou, Loves chiefest Medicine, True water to Dame Venus wine. Best Cordiall, soundest Antidote, To conquer Love, and cut his throat ; Be but my second, and stand by, And I their beauties both defie, And all else of those Faery races. That wear infection in their faces ; For I'le come safe out of the Field With this thy face, Medusa's shield. t^ju* *ju% i^E^ 1^*^ »yyi ryy* '^A/* '^A^ *^J^ *\Ar '\iy* 'W* "VW* 'My "J^ *vv* A journey into France. I Went from England into France, Neither to learn to sing, nor dance. To ride, nor yet to Fence : Nor did I goe like one of those That doe returne with halfe the nose They carried from hence. D 2 36 Musarum Delicics : Or, But I to Pa7-is rid along Much like yohn Dory in the song, Upon a holy Tide : I on an ambling Nag did get, I thinke he is not paid for yet, And spurr'd him on each side. And to S. Denis first we came, To see the sights at Nostredame, The man that shewes them snufBies ; Where who is apt for to believe. May see our Ladies right arme sleeve. And eke her old Pantofle. Her Breasts, her Milk, her very Gown, Which she did weare in Bethlem town, . When in the Inne she lay; Yet all the world knowes, that's a fable, For so good Cloaths ne'r lay in stable, Upon a lock of Hay. No Carpenter could by his Trade Gaine so much Coyn, as to have made A Gowne of so rich StufFe ; Yet they (poor fools) thinke for their credit, They must believe old Joseph did it, Cause she deserv'd enough. There is one of the Crosses Nailes, Which who so sees, his Bonnet vailes ; And, if he will, may kneel : The Muses Recreation. 3 7 Some say, 'tis false, 'twas never so, Yet, feeling it, thus milch I know, It is as true as Steel. There is a Lanthorne which iht Je;wes, When Judas led them forth did use ; It weighed my weight down right : But to believe it, you must think Thtjewes did put a Candle in't. And then 'twas wondrous light. There's one Saint that hath lost his Nose, Another's head, but not his Toes, His Elbow^ and his Thumb ; But when w'had seen the holy rags, We went to th'Inne, and took our Nags, And so away did come. We came to Farts, on the Seyn, 'Tis wondrous faire, but nothing clean, 'Tis Europes greatest town ; How strong it is, I need not tell it, For any man may easily smell it, That walkes it up and down. There many strange things you may see, The Palace, the great Gallery, Place royal, doth excell : The New Bridge, and the Statue's there. At Nostredame, Saint Christopher, The Steeple beares the Bell. 38 Musarum Delicice : Or, For Learning, th'University, And for old Clothes, the Frippery, The house the Queen did build. Saint Innocents, whose earth devoures Dead Corps, in foure and twenty houres, And there the * King was kill'd. ■ The Bastile and St. Denis street, The Chastelet, just like London Fleet, The Arsenal, no Toy ; But if you'l see the prettiest thing, Goe to the Court, and view the King, Oh 'tis a hopeful! Boy. Of all his Nobles, Dukes and Peers, ■ He's reverenc'd for his wit and years. Nor must you thinke it much ' For he with little switch can play. And can make fine Dirt-pies of Clay, Oh never King made such. A Bird that doth but kill a Flye, Or prates, doth please his Majesty, 'Tis known to every one ; The Duke of Guise gave him a Parret, And he had twenty Cannons for it, For his new Galleon. Ben. the Great, by Raviliac. The Muses Recreation. ' 39 Oh that I e're might have the hap To get the Bird, that, in the Map, Is calkd the Indian Ruck ; I'le give it him, and hope to be As great as Guise or Luyne, Or else I had ill luck. Birds round about his Table stand, And he them feeds with his owne hand, 'Tis his humility ; And if they doe want any thing. They need but chirp for their kind King, And he comes presently. And now, for those rare parts he must Entituled be, Lewis the Just, Great Henries lawful! heire ; When to his style, to adde more words, Th'ad better call him King of Birds, Then King of lost Navarre. He hath besides a pretty firk, Taught him by nature how to worke, In Iron, with much ease ; Sometimes into the Forge he goes. And there he knocks, & there he blows, And makes both Locks and Keyes. Which moves a doubt in every one Whether he's Mars or Vukans Son, Some few believe his Mother ; 40 Musarum Delidce : Or, But let them all say what they will,. I am resolv'd and doe think still, As much the one as th'other. The people doe dislike the youth, AUedging reason, for, in truth, Mothers should honour'd be ; Yet others say^ he loves her rather ; As well as ere she lov'd his Father ; That's a notorious lye. His Queen's a little pretty Wench, Was bom in Spain, speaks little French, Not like to be a Mother : For her incestuous house would not Have any Children, but begot By Unkle, or by Brother. Now why should Lewis, being so just. Content himselfe to take his Lust With his lascivious Mate, And suffer his little pretty Queen, From all her race, that e're hath been. Once to degenerate ? 'Twefe Charity for to be known Love others Children, as his owne. And why ? it is no shame : Unlesse that he would greater be Than was his father Henery, Who (men thought) did the same. The Muses Recreation. 41 Hankins Heigh-ho. NOrth Britain loved Sculler of our times, That twy-beat'st this Way, that way going Thames; Divine Aquarius of all fluent rimes. Such as describe Lepanto's bloudy streames. Lend me my Scull, full oiPyerian sweat My sorrowes to repeat, And in each Pye, He bake up every she, Big as thy Boat for thee. Thrice had all New-years Guests their yewl guts fiU'd With embalm'd Veal, buried in Christmas Past, Thrice had they Ivy herby wreath, well pill'd ; Crane slept at Tvtnam first, at Chelsey last ? Since first my heart was broach'd on Cupids spit. Roasting bit after bit. In her loves flames, who casts it now behinde. And blow'st away with winde. When I had built with practick Architecture Newcastle Mine, refin'd to such a frame Proportionable, as might deserve a Lecture, And that the Mast staid onely for a flame ; Her love alone, without or Match or Tinder, New styl'd this; new built Cinder; And so an Embleme of our love we beeted. The word black, but love lighted. 42 Musarum Delicice : Or, Oft have I perboyl'd been with blubbering grief, Season'd and sows'd with brine of bitter tears, With Salads slic'd, and Lettuc'd up with Beef, With Vinegar and Sugar, hopes and feares. Undone like Oysters, pepper'd with despair. All for this Laundres fair. Who now she thinkes, a bitter bit had got To furnish her flesh-pot. My Kitchen dore, like Fluids gates still ope, Down corns this beauteous Queen, like Prosperpin, I smear'd with soot, and she with suds of Sope, Was ever match more necessary seen ? And faith we swore, I by my Oven and Peel ; She by her Starch and Steel ; Which sacred Oath I kept, but she hers broke, And turned into smoak. Hartford, now Hatesford, which my Heartsford was, Be ever ruinous, as thou art this day. Because thou bredst this well-wash'd Laundry Lass, Let Ware beguile thee of thy rich road way ; And may thy Craifish River fall from thee As she forsaketh me : But he that hath her I doe wish no worse, Then a true Sedgely curse. You Chargers from my hands that lustre drew, To brighten you to Starres, but spotiess faire \ Your twinkling Sawcers, Constellations new, And glazing Platters, which like Comets are, The Muses Recreation. 43 Be ever dark, let neither Chalk nor Sand, Nor the Oily circling hand For evermore re-kindle you againe, But mourn you for my pain. Draw me the bravest Spit that e're was bent With massy Member of laborious beast ; Drill me from Mouth to Taile incontinent, Dresse me and dish me at the Nuptiall Feast, Thus for her Love and losse ; poor Hankin dyes, His amorous Soule down flies To th'bottome of the Cellar, there to dwell ; Susan, farewell, farewell. *jy f^M* •^jy* "Jy* '^jy* ^\jy* 'jy* '\^* '^y* »^jy %E^* *\jy* *>a^ "Jy* ^^y* "jy* Some Gentlemen shut out of their seats in Pauls, while they went to drinke. NOwnes, Gentlemen, how now ? shut out ? Must we, mix'd with the zealous rout, Stand hoofeing on the vulgar stone. To hear the CheurUilleson ? First, Let the Organs, one by one. Treble their Lamentation ; And the Quyries sing, till they For want of moisture fall to play, Ere it shall be said, that I Let my choice devotions fly 44- Musarum Delicice : Or, Up from hence, in th'foul-mouth'd peal Of Prentice Orisons, where my zeal Shall stand cheap-rated, faith, for why ? The best seat's shut, and we put by. We did but step aside awhile With juyce of Grapes our Lamps to oyl ; Where staying long, we came too late, And shar'd the foohsh Virgins fate. Yet saw I two or three within, Faire Virgins, such as had no sin : Or if they had, their worths high rate Might it soon transubstantiate Into a Vertiie, whose least share, A branch of holy Saints might wear. Should great Saint Peter me deny Passage, t'enjoy such company. We should fall foule, unlesse that he Put me to thern, or them to me. Upon a lame tired Horse. A Bout the time- Aurora in her Mantle wrapp'dthe clime, When the bright Day, and thirsty Sun had quaft A thousand Flagons, for his mornings draught, The Muses Recreation. 45 Brim full with Pearly dew ; I got me up, And tasted freely of a liberall cup ; Pursu'd my journey, on a Horse as poor As is a sterved Beggar at the door, Or Pharaoh's leanest Cow; there was as much Flesh on his back, as an old mans Crutch. Now men observing, that I was so fat, And durst ride on a Horse so lean as that. Did scoff and jeer me, as I pass'd the way, And, as I thought did one to th'other say. The horse has strip'd his flesh, and on his back Does carry it, as Pedlers doe a Pack. For I have often seen upon my troth, Poor ragged Pedlers carry packs of Cloth, Another swore, that I was some Saint Paul, Because my Horse was so spirituall. A Clown unto his fellowes cryes, God soes, I think this Horse has Corns upon his Toes. Another swore, that I no more did ride, Then Children, that a Hobby-horse bestride ; Another said, my horse did sure intend To tell each step unto his journeyes end. But, e're I got out of a Lane to th'Heath, I'le take my oath, they jeer'd my Horse to death. 46 , Musarum Delicm : Or, *\/i/» 'yn^ f^jy* •^/^* '^Jy %!(* 'w' "w* '^ft'' '^Jy '^JV *^^* '^^ '^ft'* '^J^ %(V 6^(7;« « Surfeit caught by drinking bad Sack^ at the George Tavern in Southwark. WHo thought that such a storm, Ned, when our Souls, From the Calme Harbour of Domestick Bowles, Would needs abord the George, t' embark our brain, To the Cantabrian Calenture of Spain ? Oh hadst thou seen, (and happy are thy eyes That did not see) that Fridayes Crudities, Such Hecatombs of indigested Sack Retreated up my throat, oh what a wrack 'Twas, to a thick-brain'd paper Boat of wit. In a Canary voyage to be spht ? We drank old Lees, gave our heads a fraught. Of that Don Pedro left in Eighty Eight : A bawdy-house would scome it, 'twas too poor For those that play at Noddy on the score. Felt-makers had refus'd it ; Nay, I think The Devill would abhorre such posset-drink, Bacchus, I'm sure detests it, 'tis too bad For Hereticks, a Friar would be mad To blesse such vile unconsecrable stufTe, And Brownists would conclude it good enough For such a Sacrifice : I'ld wish no worse A draught unto the Ignorant, nor curse My foes beyond it. Not a Beads-man sure At a Town Funerall would it endure, The Muses Recreation. 47 Much lesse a Man of sence ; 'twere an affront, To put an understanding Fur upon't, . Or Burgo-Mistris: It is such a thing Would dam a Vintner at a Christening. Yet we must quaff these dregs, and be constrain'd To what the Laety, seven years since disdain'd. Oh would I might tume Poet for an houre, To Satpize with a vindictive power Against the Drawer : or I could desire Old jFoknsons head had scalded in this fire ; How would he rage, and bring Apollo down To scold with Bacchus, and depose the Clown, For his ill government, and so confute Our Poet Apes, that doe so much impute Unto the grapes inspirement ! Let them sit. And from the winepresse, squeeze a bastard wA, But I, while Severn, and old Avon can Afford a draught ; while there's a Cider-Man, Or a Metheglenist, while there's a Cup Of Beer or Ale, I do forswear to sup Of wicked Sack : Thus Solemn I come from it. No dog would e're return to such a vomit. 48 Musarum DelicicB : Or, 7*/^^ Lowses Peregrination. Discoveries of late have been made by adventure, Where many a pate hath been set on the Tenter, And many a Tale hath been told more then true is, How Whales have been serv'd whole, to Saylors in Brewis. But here's a poor lowse, by these presents defies The Catalogue of old Mandevils Lyes : And this I report of a certaine. My Father and Mother, when first they join'd paunches, Begot me between an old Pedlers haunches ; Where grown to a Creeper, I know how a pox I Got to suck by chance of the bloud of his doxie. Where finding the sweetnesse of this my new pasture, I left the bones of my pockified Master, And there I struck in for a fortune. A Lord of this Land that lov'd a Bum well, Did lie with this Mort one night in the Strummel, I cling'd me fast to him, and left my companions, I scom'd to converse more with Tatterdemalians ; But sued to Sir Giles, to promise in a Patent, That my Heires might enjoy clean Linnen and Sattin ; But the Parliament cross'd my Intention. This Lord that I follow'd delighted in Tennis, He sweat out my fat with going to Venice, The Muses Recreation. Ji^(^ Where with a brave Donna, in single Duello, He left me behind him within the BurdeUo ; Where leacherous passages I did discover, Betwixt Bona Roba, and Diego her Lover, Youl'd wonder to heare the discourse oft. The use of the Dildo they had without measure, Behind and before, they have it at pleasure ; All Aretines wayes, they practice with labour, An Eunuch they hate like Beihlem Gabor, Counting the English man but as a Stallion, Leaving the Goat unto the Italian : And this is the truth that I tell you. Thus living with wonder, escaping the talent, Of Citizen, Clown, Whore, Lawyer, and Gallant, At last came a Soldier, I nimbly did ferk him. Up the greazy skirts of s robustuous Buff Jerkin ; Where finding companions, without any harm I Was brought before Breda, to Spinola's army : And there I remaine of a certain. WM^ King Oberon's ApparelL WHen the Monthly homed Queen Grew jealous, that the Stars had seen Her rising from Endymions armes. In rage, she throws her misty charmes VOL. 1. E 50 Musarum Delicice: Or, Into the bosome of the night. To dim their curious prying light. Then did the dwarfish Faery Elves (Having first attir'd themselves) Prepare to dresse their Oberon King In highest robes, for revelling. In a Cobweb shirt, more thin Then ever Spider since could spin, Bleach'd by the whitenesse of the Snow, As the stormy windes did blow It in the vast and freezing aire ; No sliirt halfe so fine, so faire. A rich Waistcoat they did bring Made of the Trout flies gilded wing. At that his Elveship, 'gan to fret, Swearing it would make him sweat. Even with its weight, and needs would wear His Waistcoat wove of downy haire. New shaven from an Eunuch's chin ; That pleas'd him well, 'twas wondrous thin. The out-side of his Doublet was Made of the four-leaVd true love grasse, On which was set so fine a glosse. By the oyle of crispy mosse ; That through a mist, and starry light, It made a Rainbow every night. On every Seam, there was a Lace Drawn by the unctuous Snails slow trace ; To it, the purest Silver thread Compar'd, did look like dull pale Lead. The Muses Recreation. 5 1 Each Button was a sparkling eye T'ane from the speckled Adders Frye, Which in a gloomy night, and dark, Twinckled like a fiery spark : And, for coolnesse, next his skin, 'Twas with white Poppy lin'd within. His Breeches of that Fleece were wrought, Which from Colchos Jason brought ; Spun into so fine a Yarne, That mortals might it not discerne ; Wove by Arachne, in her Loom, Just before she had her doom ; D/d crimson with a Maidens blush. And lyn'd with Dandelyon Plush. A rich mantle he did wear Made of Tinsel Gossamer, Bestarred over with a few Dyamond drops of morning dew. His Cap was all of Ladies love, So passing light, that it did move. If any humming Gnat or Fly But buzz'd the ajrre, in passing by ; About it was a wreath of Pearle, Drop'd from the eyes of some poor girle Pinch'd, because she had forgot To leave faire water in the pot. And for Feather, he did weare Old Nisus fatall purple hatre. The sword they girded on his Thigh, Was smallest blade of finest Rye. E 2 5 2 Musarum Delicus : Or, A paire of Buskins they did bring Of the Cow Ladye's Corall wing ; Powder'd o're with spots of Jet, And lin'd with purple- Violet. His Belt was made of mirtle leaves, Plaited in small curious threaves, Beset with Amber Cowslip studds, And fring'd about with Daizy Budds. In which his Bugle home was hung. Made of the babbling Eccho's tongue ; Which set unto his Moon-burn'd lip. He windes, and then his Faeries skip : At that, the lazy dawn 'gan sound, And each did trip a Faery round. iy(y« 'VV 'vjf* '^fl^ v^^ 'W •yv* "yv* *>Ar» 'yv' 'vv' 'Njv* '\&'* %^ *^cr %IV A Poets farewell to his thred bare Cloak. GLoak (if I so may call thee) though thou art My old acquaintance, prithee now let's part ; Thou wer't my equall friend in thirty one. But now thou look'st like a meer hanger-on. And art so uselesse to me, I scarce know Sometimes whether I have thee on or no. But this I needs must say, when thou go'st from me, These ten years thou hast been no burden to me : Yet that's thy accusation ; for if I Divorce thee from me, 'tis for Levity. The Mtises Recreation. 53 Thou hast abus'd my Bed, that is, thou hast Not kept me warme, when thou wer't over-cast. Transparent garment, proof against all weather. Men wonder by what art thou hang'st together ; Nor can the eyes of the best reason pry Into this new Occult Geometry. A fellow t'other day but cast his eye on, And swore I was mantled in Dent de lion. Another ask't me (who was somewhat bolder) Whether I wore a Love-bagge on my shoulder ? I feare a fire, as faire maids the small poxe, And dare not look towards a Tinder-boxe, Nor him that sells 'em up and downe ; I know, If he comes neer me, 'tis but touch and goe. A red-fac'd fellow frights me, though some fear That w'^ makes his nose red, makes my cloak bare. They say my thick Back, and thin Cloak appear. Very like powder'd Beef, and Vinegar. An other vow'd (whose tongue had no restriction) It was no garment, but the Poets- fiction. Did ever man discover such a knack, To walke in Qwrpo with a Cloak on's back ! A very zealous brother did begin To jeer and say. Sir, your Original sinne Is not wash'd ofi' (pray do not take it ill) I see, you weare your Fathers Fig-leaves still. A Scholar (in an elevated thought) Protested, 'Twas the Webbe Arachne wrought When she contended with Minerva : but Another Raschal had his finger cut. 54 Musarum Delicice : Or, And begg'd a piece to wrap about it. Thus You see (kind Cobwebs) how they laugh at us. Good Cambrick Lawn, depart ; let me not be For ever fetter'd thus in Tiffany. Although I never yet did merit praise, I'de rather have my shoulders crown'd with Bays 7'han hung with Cypresse. If this fortune be Alwayes dependant on poore Poetry, I would my kinder destiny would call Me to be one o'th'Clerks of Blackwell-hall ; For though their easie studies are more dull, Yet what they want in wit, they have in wool. Once more farewell, these are no times for thee, Thick Cloaks are onely fit for knavery. The onely Cloaks that now are most in fashion Are Liberty, Religion, Reformation : All these are fac'd with zeal, and button'd down With Jewels dropt from an imperiall Crowne. He that would Cloak it in the new Translation, Must have his Taylor cut it Pulpit-fashion. Doe not appear within the City ; there They minde not what men are, but what they weare. The habit speaks the Man. How canst thou thrive When a good Cloak's a Representative ? The Females will not wear thee, they put on Such Cloaks as doe obscure the rising Sunne. How can'st thou hope for entertainment, when Women make Cloaks ev'n of Committee men ? Farewell good Cover-wit, upon the bryer I'le hang thee up, if any doe enquire The Muses Recreation. 55 Where his braines were that let his Cloak thus swing, Tell him, his wits are gone a wool-gathering. Upon a Fart unluckily let. WEll Madam, wel, the Fart you put upon me Hath in this Kingdome almost quite undone me. Many a boystrous storm, & bitter gust Have I endur'd, by Sea, and more I must : But of all storms by Land, to me 'tis true, This is the foulest blast that ever blew. Not that it can so much impaire my credit, For that I dare pronounce, 'twas I, that did it. For when I thought to please you with a song, 'Twas but a straine too low that did me wrong \ But winged Fame will yet divulge it so. That I shall heare oft wheresoe're I goe. To see my friends, I now no longer dare, Because my Fart will be before me there. Nay more, which is to me my hardest doom, I long to see you most, but dare not come ; For if by chance or hap, we meet together. You taunt me with, what winde. Sir, blew you hither ? If I deny to tell, you will not fayle, I thought your voice. Sir, would have drown'd your Taile ; Thus am I hamper'd wheresoe're you meet me. And thus, instead of better termes you greet me. 56 Musamm Delicm : Or, I never held it such a heinous crime, A Fart was lucky held, in former time ; A Foxe of old, being destitute of food, Farted, and said, this newes must needs be good, I shall have food, I know, without delay. Mine Arse doth sing so merrily to day ; And so they say he had. But yet you see The Foxes blessing proves a curse to me. How much I wronged am, the case is cleare, As I shall plainly make it to appear. As thus, of all men let me be forsaken, If of a Fart can any hold be taken : For 'tis a Blast, and we Recorded finde, King ^olus alone commands the winde. Why should I then usurp, and undertake The Subject of a Royall Prince to make My Prisoner ? No, but as my duty bindes. Leave that command unto the King of windes. So, when I found him strugling to depart, I freely gave him leave with all my heart. Then judge you, gentle Ladyes, of my wrong. Am I not well requited for my Song ? All the revenge that I require is this. That you may Fa,rt as oft as e're you pisse ; So may you chance, the next time that we meet. To vie the Ruflfe, and I dare not to see't. In the meaiie time, on knees devoutly bended. My Tongue craves pardon, if my Talk offended. The Muses Recreation. 57 ► '\A/* ')jy* *'^y* ^\iy* f^y* >^jy '\A^ ^\^* *>JV* '^jy* '^A" '^jxf* ^^u* 'ys/' '^jy A young Man courting an old Widow. DAme Hecuba, fye, be not coy, that look How it drew up your wrinkles, like a Book Of Vellam, at a fire ? glazen your eyes And view this face, these limbs, here vertue lies Restorative, will make you smooth and straight. As you were in the sixth of Henry th'eighth. Come, let us kisse, that soUtary Tusk, As Garlick strong, but wholsomer then Musk, Invites me neerer yet ; the hottest fires Ne're scorch'd, as doe your ashes my desires. Time was, I've heard my Grandfather report When those eyes drew more company to Court Then hope of Honour ; they have vertue still, And work upon my breast, for as they dril That humour down your yawning cheeks, my blood Grows dull, congeals, & thickens with your Mud. Somewhat youl'd say now ! I perceive your gums Are labouring for't, as when we brace our Drums, To make them sound the better : oh take heed, A little winde shivers a cracking reed. One syllable will fetch your lungs up ; stay And make but signes, I'le guesse what you would say. Good Granam, doe but nod your tottering head. And shake your bunch of keys, you'l raise the dead. 58 Musarum Delicice : Or, Why may not you and I be one ? there be In one world, severall tempers. Harmony Is made up thus, and Contraries preserve That subject, where they doe each other serve. Nor are we therefore over-neer akin. Because your Granchilds niece hath marryed bin To my great Unkle ; 'Twas a lovely paire, They say, who knew them then, equally faire In yeares and Fortune : this a Priest may doe, Spight of Sterne Natures Laws, ^twixt me & you. He can take you as y'are, me in my prime, And tye up in one knot both ends of Time ; 'Mongst all your Coffers and your bags of Gold, A cunning Goldsmith ever likes the old. The new may prove as currant, and may passe From hand to hand, as fast as a young Lasse. But you'r more grave and stay'd, come, pray consent. And blaze but one good snuff, e're you be spent. Touch-wood should take fire soonest, as it falls. Fresh joy clings fully close to aged walls. So let us joyn thus in one volume bound, A Chronicle and Corant may be found. The Muses Recreation. 59 Upon Chesse-play. To Dr. Budden. TO thee Laws Oracle, who hadst the power To wage my pens imployment for an hour, I send no Frogs, nor Mice, Pigmees, nor Cranes, Giants nor Gods, which trouble so the braines Or feighning Poets ; nor my leisure sings The CounterbufFs of the foure painted Kings : Those worthy Combatants have had their times, And Battells sung in thousand curious rimes. I sing the fierce Alarme, and direfull stroke Of passing timbred men, all hearts of Oake ; Men that scofne Armes defensive, nor, in heat Of bloudy broiles, complaine of dust or sweat. Men that doe thinke, no victory is fit That's not compacted by the reach of wit. Men that an Ambuscado know to lay, T'entrap the Foe in his retiring way ; Plot Stratagems, and teach their braines t'indite What place is fittest to employ their might. Dull down-right blowes, are fit for rustick wits. Within the compasse of whose scalp there sits A homebred sense, weak apprehension, That strike the first they cast their eye upon ; Those are the Chaff of Soldiers, but this Corn Of choicest men, at highest rate is born. 6o Musarum Delicice : Or, Here life is precious, where the meanest man Is guarded by the Noblest, who doe scan, (Not what a poor man is, but) what may prove, If bravely to the Armies head he move ; Such may his valour be, he may of right Be an Executor to Rook or Knight, Whose Lands fall to the King (their Master dead) With which this Pawn lives to be honoured. And doe his Prince good service. Tell me then, Thou that dost distribute Justice to men. Must Honours ever follow blood ? or should Vertue be grac'd, though in the meanest Mould ? Tell me, thou Man of Peace, are not these Wars LawfuU and commendable, where the scars Are for Command, where either Enemy Seeks to himselfe a fifth great Monarchy? Where neither knows his confines, but each foot Is his, where he or his, can take firme root ? Pity with me, the fortunes of those Kings, Whose battell such an untaught Poet sings. Know, that great Alexander could not have An Homer ; and remember, in wars brave. Each deeds a Poem, and he writes it best Who doth engrave it on a conquered Crest. If I offend, part of the blame is thine, Thou gav'st the Theam, I did but frame the Line. Two angry Kings weary of lingring peace. Challenge the field, all Concord now must cease ; So do their stomacks with fir'd anger burn, Nothing but wounds, bloud, death, must serve the turne The Muses Recreation. 6 1 They pitch'd their field in a faire chequer'd square, Each form two Squadrons, in the former are The common Soldiers, whose courageous scope Is venturing their lives, like a Fortune, Hope. These stil march on, & dare not break their rank. But for to kill a Foe, then 'tis their prank To make the ground good 'gainst the Enemy, Till by a greater force subdu'd, they dye. The Kings for safety, in mid battell stand. And Marshal all their Nobles on each hand. Next either King, an Amazonian Queen, Like our sixt Henryes Margaret is seen. Ready to scoure the Field, corner, or square. She succours, where the Troops distressed are. Next stand two Mytred Bishops which in War Forget their Calling, vent'ring many a scar In Princes cause, yet must no Bishop stray, But leave the J)road, and keep the narrow way. Next are two ventrous Knights, whose nimble feet Leap o're mens heads, scorning to think it meet They should stand Centinells, while the poor Pawnes, With danger of their lives do scour the Lawnes. The Battells out-spread wings, two Rooks doe guard. These flanke the field so well, that there is barr'd All side assaults ; these, for their valours grace, (The King in danger) with him change their place. But Majesty must keep a setled pace, Rides not in post, moves to the nearest place, That's to his Standart ; If there be report Of the Kings danger, all troops must resort. 62 Musarum D elides : Or, But now they sound Alarme, each heart doth swell With wrath, strikes in the name of Christabel, Strike, strike, be not agast, Soldiers are bound To fear no death, much lesse to dread a wound. Now without mercy dies the common Troop, A Rook, a Bishop, and a Knight doth droop ; Yet neither boasts of Conquest, though each hope To win the field, which now is halfe laid ope By Soldiers death ; now dares a martial Queen Check her Foe King, when streight there steps between A vent'rous Soldier, or a Noble man Who cares not for his life, so that he can From danger keep his King ; he feares not death. In Princes cause, that gives each Subject breath. But this Virago dyes, being left alone. When straight a nimble Soldier steppeth on. And through the thickest Troops hews out his way And till he come to th'head doth nevej stay. This brave attempt deserves the honouring ; The Queens colours are his, given by the King ; Who knows that valour should not want reward, And vent'rous spirits, best keep a Princes guard. Now is the War in heat, bloudy the Field, Mercy is banish'd, none hath thought to yeild, Basely to beg his breath ; the fame now ran, That they must fight it out, to the last man. All Soldiers dye, but one, who to his King, Griev'd with his great losse, doth this comfort bring. That their great Foe, whose Troops are all now dead. Must to their swords, yeild up his Conquer'd head. The Muses Recreation. 63 Then with their Check, and Check on either hand, The poor disheartned King doth mated stand. Though thus to dye it be the Princes fate. Who dares pronounce he had a whisking mate ; Who, rather then mumping forgoe the Field, Joyes in the place he stands, his breath to yeild ? But now the conquering couple want their breath. Their festered wounds doe rankle, & grim death Peeps through the gashes, down the Victors fall, And then one generall Herse entombs them all. The loose Wooer. THou dost deny me, cause thou art a Wife, Know, she that's Marry ed lives a single life That loves but one ; abhor that Nuptiall curse, Ty'd thee to him, for better and for worse. Variety delights the active blood. And Women the more common, the more good, As all goods are; there's no Adultery, And Marriage is the worst Monopoly. The Learned Roman Clergy admits none Of theirs to Marry : they love all, not one : And every Nun can teach you, 'tis as meet. To change your Bedfellow, as smock or sheet. Say, would you be content onely to eate Mutton or Beef, and tast no other meat ? 64 Musarum Delicice : Or, It would grow loathsom to you, and I know You have two palats, and the best below. •\A^ •\^ '\jDi/* '\jy* '*jy* 'w* '^jy '^jy* 'jy* '^y* '^jy* '^jy* 'siy* "^y* '^y "jy* C/pon the biting of Fleas. Summon up all the terrifying paines That ever were invented by the braines Of earthly Tyrants ; Then descend to Hell, And count the horrid tortures that doe dwell In the darke Dungeon, where the horrid stone Makes Sisipftus his panting ehtrailes groane. Where Tantalus (in th'midst of plenty curst) Is doom'd to famine, and eternall thirst ; Where the pale Ghosts are lash'd with whips of steel. Yet these are gentle, to the paines I feel. Vex'd with a Thousand Pigmy friends, and such. As dare not stand the onset of a touch. Strange kind of Combatants, where Conquest lies In nimbly skipping from their Enemies, While they, with eager fiercenesse lay about To catch the thing they faine would be without. These sable furies bravely venture on. But when I 'gin t'oppose them, whip, th'are gone. Doubtlesse I think each is a Magick Dauncer, Bred up by some infernall Necromancer, But that I doe believe, none ere scarce knew ('Mong all their Spirits) such a damned crew. The Muses Recreation. 65 Some, when they would expresse the gentle sting Of a slight paine, call it a Flea-biting, But were they in my place, they soon would finde A cause sufficient for to change their minde. Some, telhng how they vex'd another, say I sent him with a Flea in's eare away, Onely to shew what trouble hath possest Him, whom this little creature doth molest. It is reported, that a Mouse can daunt The courage of the mighty Elephant. Compare my bignesse, and the Fleas to theirs, And I have smaller reason for my feares, And yet I tremble when I feel them bite ; Oh how they sting my flesh ? was black-browied night, And the whist stillnesse of it, made my Fate, To make man happy or unfortunate ? If there be any happinesse or rest In pangs of torture, I am fully blest. All my five sences are combin'd in one, For, but my sence of feeling, I have none,, And that is left me, to increase my smart ; Bloud-sucking Tyrants, will you nere depart ? Why doe you hang iu Clusters on my skin ? Come one to one, and try what you can win. You Coward ^Ethiop Vermine ! Oh you Gods, You are unjust, to load me with such odds. If ^^»^-born Hercules can't deale with two, Then what can I against a Legion doe ? Their number freights me, not their strength ; I'le dare The Lion, Fanther, Tiger, or the Beare VOL. I. F 66. Musarum Delicice : Or, To an encounter, to be freed from these Relentlesse demy, Devills, cursed Fleas. Upon Madam Chevereuze swimming over the Thames. '' I ""Was calm, and yet the Thames touch'd heaven to day, X The water did find out the Milky way, When Madam Chevereuze by swimming down. Did the faire Thames the Qu. of Rivers crown. The humble Willows on the shore grew proud To see her in their shade her body shroud ; And meeting her the Swan (wont to presume) Bow'd to her whiter neck his suUyed Plume. Was not great yove that Swan ? so shap'd, he came To Leda's sight ; but Gods and Courtiers shame Twice to appeare like ; I rather dream love was not here, the Swan might be the stream, And took far greater pleasure to be cool'd In silver drops, then in his showre of gold. And now let Aristotle s Schollers tread Their Masters timeless footsteps to the dead, In searching out the deepest secret, which Or earth or water may be thought most rich. Venus by Proxie from the floud ascends, Bright Chevereuze the whole difference ends, Adding so great a treasure to the waves. As the whole earth seemes useless, but for graves. The Muses Recreation. 6j Water above the Earth by natures lyes, But she hath plac'd it now above the skies. The flame she took, a spirit of water drew, Fram'd opall Raine, out of extracted Dew. But her chast breast, cold as the Cloyster'd Nun, Whose Frost to Chrystal might congeal the Sun, So glaz'd the stream, that Pilots then afloat, Thought they might safely land without a Boat. July had seen the Thames in Ice involv'd, Had it not been by her own beames dissolv'd : But yet she left it Cordiall, 'twas no more Thaw'd to so weake a water as before. Else how could it have born all beauties fraight ? Of force it mast have sunke so great a weight. Have sunk her ? where ? how vainly doe I erre ? Who know all depths are shallow unto her. She dreads not in a River to be drown'd. Who, then the Sea it selfe, is more profound. Small Vessells shake, the great Ship safely Tydes, And, like her Royall builder, awes their Tydes. Above their fome, or rage, we see her float. In her bright scorn, and. Madam, here's my Vote : So may all troubled waves beneath you shrink ; So may you swim for ever, your foes sinke. ##** ■*># r 2 68 Musarum Delic;iaunch, and draw thy glaring eyes ? Did not thy conscious stomach finde Nature profan'd, that kind with kind Should staunch his hunger ? think on that. Thou Canniball and Cyclops Cat. The Muses Recreation. 71 For know, thou wretch, that every string Is a cats gut, which Art doth bring Into a thread ; and now suppose Dunstan, that snuff'd the Devills nose. Should bid these strings revive, as once He did the Calfe, from naked bones ; Or I to plague thee for thy sin. Should draw a Circle, and begin To Conjure, for I am, look to't, An Oxford Scholer, and can doe't. Then with three sets of Mops and Mowes, Seaven of odd words, and Motley showes, A thousand tricks, that may be taken From Faustus, Lambe, or Frier-Bacon ; I should begin to call my strings My Cattlings, and my Minikins ; And they re-catted, streight should fall To mew, to purre, to Caterwawle ; From Pusses belly, sure as death, Pusse should be an Engastrumeth. Pusse should be sent for to the King, For a strange Bird or some rare thing. Pusse should be sought to farre and neer. As she some cunning woman were. Pusse should be carried up and downe, From Shire to Shire, from Town to Towne, Like to the Cammell, leane as Hag, The Elephant or Apish Nag, For a strange sight ; Pusse should be sung In Lowsie Ballads, midst the throng. 72 Musarum Delkm : Or, At Markets, with as good a grace As Agincourt, or Chevy Chace. The TViy-sprung Britain would forgoe His Pedigree, he chanteth so, And sing that Merlin (long deceast) Return'd is in a nine liv'd beast. Thus Pusse thou seest, what might betide thee, But I forbear to hurt or chide thee. For't may be Pusse was Melancholy, And so to make her blythe and Jolly, Finding these strings, shel'd Jiave a fit Of Mirth ; nay, Pusse, if that were it ; Thus I revenge me, that as thou Hast plaid on them, I on thee now ; And as thy touch was nothing fine. So I've but scratch'd these notes of mine. To a Lady vexd with a jealous Husband. WHen you sit musing, Lady, all alone Casting up all your cares with private moan, When your heart bleeds with griefe, you are no more Neer unto comfort, than you were before. You cannot mend your state with sighes or tears, Sorrow's no Balsome for distrustful! feares. Have you a Foe you hate, wish him no worse A Plague or Torment, then thePillowes curse. The Muses Recreation. T2> Observe your Lord with ne're so strict an eye, You cannot go to piss without a spy. If but a Mouse doth stir about his bed, He starts, and sweares he is dishonoured, And when a jealous dream doth craze his pate. Straight he resolves he will be separate. Tell me, right worthy Cuckolds, if you can. What good this folly doth reflect on man ? Are women made^ more loyall ? hath it power To guard the Tree, that none can pluck the Flower ? It is within the power of jealous heads. To banish lust from Court, or Country beds ? I never knew, that base and foul mistrust Made any chast, that had a mind to lust. It cannot make her honest, that by kind. To loose and wild affections is inclin'd. Debar her Lord, she, to supply his room, Will have a Horse-boy, or a Stable-groom. Keep her from youth of lower rank and place, She'l kiss his Scullion, and with Knaves embrace : Suspect her faith withall, and all mistrust, She'l buy a Monkey to supply her lust : Lock her from Man and Beast, and all content, She'l make thee Cuckold with an instrument : For women are like angry Mastives Chain'd, They bit at all, when they are all restrain'd.- We may set locks and guards to watch their fires. But have no meanes to quench their hot desires. Man may as well, by cunning, go about. To stop the Sun in motion, as by doubt, 74 Musarum Delicics : Or, To keep a nettled woman, if that she Strongly disposed be to Venery. How many thousand women that were Saints, Are now made sinful! by unjust restraints ? How many do commit, for very spight, That take small pleasure in that sweet delight ? Some are for malice, some for mirth unjust, Some kisse for love, and some do act for lust. But if the fates intend to make me blest, And Hymen bind me to a female breast, (As yet, I thank my starres, I am not ty'd In servile bonds to any wanton Bride) Let Cinthia be my Crest, and let me wear The Cuckolds badge, if I distrust, or fear. 'Tis told me oft, a smooth and gentle hand Keeps women more in aw of due command. Than if we set a Ganneril on their Docks, Ride them with Bits, or on their gear set Locks. For then, like furious Colts, they'l frisk and fling, Grow wild and mad, and will do any thing. But if we slack our reyns, to please their will, Kindnesse will keep them from committing iU. You blessed creatures, hold your female rights. Conquer by day, as you o'recome by nights, And tell the jealous world thus much from me. Bondage may make them bad, whose mindes are free. Had Collatin been jealous (say this more) Without a rape, Lucrece had dy'd a whore. The Muses Recreation. 75 Invitation to dalliance. BE not thou so foolish nice, As to be intreated twice ; What should Women more incite, Than their own sweet appetite ? Shall savage things more freedom have Than nature unto Women gave ? The Swan, the Turtle, and the Sparrow Bill a while, then take the marrow. They Bill, they Kisse, what else they doe Come Bill, and Kisse, and I'le shew you. The Countrey mans Song in the Spanish Curate. LEt the Bells ring, and the Boyes sing. The young Lasses trip and play. Let the Cups goe round, till round goes the ground, Our learned Vicar wee'le stay. Let the Pig turn merrily hey, And let the fat Goose swim. For verily, verily, hey. Our Vicar this day shall be trim. 76 Musarum Delicice : Or, The stew'd Cock shall Crow, Cockadoodle doe, Aloud Cockadoodle shall Crow ; The Duck and the Drake that swim in the Lake Of Onions and Clarret below. Our Wives shall be neat, to bring in our meat. To thee, our Noble Adviser, Our paines shall be great, and our pottles shall sweat. And we our selves will be wiser. Wee'l labour and swink, wee'l kisse and wee'l drink, And Tithes shall come thicker and thicker j Wee'l fall to the Plough, and get children enow, And thou shalt be learned, Oh Vicar ! Upon the sight of an old decay d patch' d Bed, with a Pillow having T. R. as a marke on it. Prologue. MErvail not {Reader) though the Sun shine bright About you, if I bid you all good night, I'le tell how't may properly be sed, Though you are up, yet I am going to bed. Poetaster. My slumbring Muse upon thy drowsie bed, Rest once againe thine unattired head The Muses Recreation. 77 Where, for thy great Mecenas so commands, Thy best assayes with saporiferous bands. While darknesse did thine outward senses Wind, Tell me what fancies did usurp thy minde. Muse. What think you Sir, while sleep enthral'd my head, What subject could I have, except my bed ? Poetaster. A bed no subject to be written on, But lain, yea by the Muses trod upon. Muse. The pillow from the bed I think's nor farre. And yet on that were written T. and R. But to be lien on, right I like it well, For why in lying, Poets bear the Bell, And to be trod upon, tis not unmeet. The Muses scand their subjects with their feet. Poetaster. The R. O muse thou there saw'st (to be brief) Was nothing but a Rogue, the T. a Thief : In the next verse, but two,, I blush to tell, Thou first broughtst forth a Lie, & then a Bell. Take heed of Libels Muse, thy Poet feares, If thy feet stumble, he may lose his eares. To sever Thieves and Poets I am loath, Because I know Mercurius was both. 78 Musarum DelicitB : Or, - Muse. Within thy verses as Birds of a feather, Liars, rogues, thieves, and Muses flock together. By whom I'm softly to my subject led, For flocks and feathers do fill up the bed. Bacchus his merry boules may humour breed. But divine raptures from the bed proceed. Let the Pot Poets in their fury try, With dipping their Malignant pens to dry The Muses fountain, my inventions streams Can never faile, while beds procure me dreams. , If we one Science justly may admire. What shall we here where all the Seven conspire ; The letters on the pillow witnesse may That on this bed some Grammer lately lay ; In Logick also it must needs be able, For 'twas a Cord would make a pretty Cable : That beds have Rhetorick we need not fear, While to his pillow each man lends his eare : Who number all the feathers in it can, Must be a good Arithmetitian. The joynts cry creek when on them any lie, As if the stocks hung by Geometry. Its musick sure is pleasant which can keep In spight of snorting eyes and eares asleep. The bed I take for deep Astronomy, Which alwaies studies to eclipse the eye. If you seek Planets, this is Vulcans gin, That Mars and Vmus were so fetter'd in. The Muses Recreation. 79 Astrologie in this doth also dwell, For men by Dreames may future things foretell : To read strong lines, if any minde be bent, Herein the bed can also give content. Not sage Apollo, nor the sacred Nine Can then this Bed-cord shew a stronger line. Methinkes I'me very sleepy still, and loath To rise, but that I've on me ne're a cloath. 'Twas T. and R. as sure's I live, 'twas they That stole the Coverlet and Sheets away. Out ! a Roap choak you both, y'are arrant knaves, I'de knock you soundly had I but Bed-staves. Epilogue. IF ought obscure you in my Verses, marke, Poets use not their Beds but in the darke. If false or foolish any thing you deem, Sith't came from Bed, account it for a Dream. If in my Verses boldly any catches. The Bed, my subject, was as full of patches : The blurs and blots I make, let none disdaine. The Bed in one place had an ugly staine. If my unpollish't lines being dull and dry. Doe make you heavy, I will tell you why. Some subjects make men laugh, some make them weep But the Bed-post is to bring all asleep. 8o Musarum Delicice : Or, A Letter to Sir yohn Mennis, when the Parliament denied the King Money to pay the Army, unlesse a Priest, whom the King had reprieved, might be executed. Sir John at that time wanting the Money for provisions for his troop, desired me by his Letter to goe to the Priest, and to perswade him to dye for the good of the Army ; saying, What isH for him to hang an houre. To give an Army strength and power ? The Reply. BY my last Letter lohn thou see'st What I have done to soften Priest ; Yet could not with all I could say, Perswade him hang to get thee pay. Thou Swad, quoth he, I plainly see, The Army wants no food by thee. Fast oftner, friend, or if you'l eate Use Oaten straw, or straw of Wheat ; They'l serve to moderate thy jelly. And (which it needs) take up thy belly. As one that in a Taverne breaks A Glasse, steales by the Barre, and sneaks ; At this rebuke, with no lesse haste, I Trudg'd from the Priest, and Prison nasty : The Muses Recreation. 8 1 The truth is, he gave little credit To'th' Armies wants, because I said it. And, if you'l presse it further, lohn, 'Tis fit you send a leaner man. For thou with ease can'st friends expose For thy behoof to fortunes blows. Suppose we being found together Had pass'd for Birds of the same feather ? I had perchance been shrewdly shent, And maul'd too, by the Parliament. Have you beheld th'unlucky Ape For roasted Chesnuts mump and gape. And ofF'ring at them with his pawes, But loath he is to scorch his clawes When viewing on the Hearth asleep A Puppy, gives him cause to weep : To spare his owne, he takes his help, And rakes out Nuts with foot of whelp. Which done, (as if 'twere all but play) Your Name-sake looks another way. The Cur awakes, and findes his thumbs In paine, but knows not whence it comes j He takes it first to be some Cramp, And now he spreads, now licks his vamp ; Both are in vaine, no ease appeares. What should he doe ? he shakes his eares. And hobling on three legs he goes. Whining away with aking toes. Not in much better case perhaps, I might have been to serve thy chaps, VOL. I, G Musarum Delicice : Or, And have beshrew'd my fingers end, For groping so in cause of friend ; While thou wouldst munch like horse in Manger, And reach at Nuts with others danger : Yet have I ventur'd farre to serve, My friend that sayes he's like to sterve. The Fart censured in the Parliament House. Puffing down corns grave antient Sir lo. Crook, And reads his message promptly without book. Very well, quoth Sir William Morris, so ; But Harry Ludlows foysting Arse cry'd no. Then starts up one fuller of devotion Then eloquence, and sayes, An ill motion. Nay, by my Faith, quoth Sir Henry lenkin. The motion were good, wer't not for stinking. Quoth Sir Henry Pool, 'Tis an audacious trick. To Fart in the Face of the body Politick. Now without doubt, quoth Sir Edward Grevil, I must confesse, it was very uncivill. Thank God, quoth Sir Edward Hungerford, That this Fart prove not a Turd. Indeed, quoth Sir lohn Trevor, it gave a foule knock. As it launch'd forth from his stinking Dock. I, quoth another it once so chanced, That a great Man Farted, as he daunced. Quoth Sir Richard Haughton, no Justice of Quorum But would take it in snuffe, t'have a fart let before'um. The Muses Recreation. 83 Such a fart as this ne're before was seen, Quoth the most learned Councel of the Queen. Quoth Mr. Daniel, this young man's too bold, This priviledge belongs to us that are old. Then wo the time, quoth Sir Laurence Hyde, That these our priviledges are deny'd. Quoth Mr. Recorder a word for the City, To cut off the Aldermans right, were great pity. Well, quoth Kit Brook, wee'l give you a reason. Though he had right by descent, he had not livery and seisin. Yet, quoth M. Peak, I have a president in store, His father farted last Sessions before. Then said Mr. Noy, this may very well be done, A fart may be entail'd from the father to the son. Saith Mr. Moore, let us this motion repeale, What's good for the private, is ill for the Common weal. A goodyear on this Fart, quoth gentle Sir Harry, He hath caus'd such an Earth-quake, that my Coal- pits miscarry. It is hard to recall a Fart when tis out. Quoth Sir William Lower with a loud shout. Yes, quoth Sir Laurence Hide, that we may come by it, Wee'l make z, proviso, time it and tye it. Qd. Sir Harry the hardy, look well to each clause. As well for Englands Liberty as Lawes. Now then the knightly Doctor protests, This Fart shall be brought into th'Court of Requests. Nay rather, sayes Sir Edwin, I'le make a digression, And fart him a project, shall last him a Session, a 2 84 Musarum Delicice : Or, Then Sir Edward Hoby alleadg'd with the spigot, If you fart at the Union, remember Kit Pigot. Swooks quoth Sir lohn Lee, is your Arse in dotage ? Could you not have kept this breath to cool your pottage ? Grave Senat quoth Mr. Duncomb, upon my salvation This Fart had need of great Reformation. Quoth the Countrey Courtier upon my Conscience, It might have been reformed with Frankinsence. We must have this Fart by Parliament enacted, Said another, before this businesse be transacted. And so we shall have (oh do not abhor it !) A Fart from Scotland reciprocall for it. A very good jest it is by this light, Quoth spruce Mr. lames of the Isle of Wight. Quoth Sir Robert Johnson, if you'l not laugh I'le measure this Fart with my Jacobs staffe. Now by my troth, quoth sage Mr. Bennet, We must have a selected Committee to pen it. Philip Gawdy stroak'd the old stubble of his face. Said, the Fart was well penn'd, so sat downe in his place. Then modest Sir John JJollis said, on his word, It was but a Shoo that creak'd on a board. Not so, quoth Sir John Ackland, that cannot be. The place underneath is matted you see. Before God, said Mr. Brooke, to tell you no lye, This Fart, by our Law, is of the Post-nati. Fye, quoth M. Fotherby, I like liot this Embassage, A Fart Interlocutory in the midst of a Message. In all your Eloquence then, quoth Mr. Martin, You cannot finde out this figure of Farting. The Muses Recreation. 8^ Naj', quoth Dr. Crompton, can any man draw This Fart within compasse of the Civill Law ? Then Sir William Pady, I dare assure'm, Though't be Contra modestiam, 'tis not Contra naturam. Up starts Ned Weymark the Pasquil of Pawls, And said, this Fart would have fitted the Master of the Rolls. Said Oxenbridge, there is great suspition, That this Fart savours of Popish Superstition. Nay, said Mr. Good, and also some other, This Fart came from som reformed Brother. Then up start Sir lohn Yong, and swore by Gods nailes, Was nere such a Fart let in the Borders of Wales. Sir Walter Cope said, this Fart as 'twas let. Might well have broke ope his privy Cabinet. Sir lerome in Folio, swore by the Masse, This Fart was enough to have broke all the Glasse. And Sir lerome the lesse said, such an abuse, Was never committed in Poland or Pruce. In compasse of a thousand miles about, Sir Roger Owen said, such a Fart came not out. Quoth Sir lohn Parker, I sweare by my Rapier, This Bombard was stufF'd with very foul Paper. Now quoth Mr. Lewknor, we have found such a thing As no Tale-bearer dares carry to the King. Quoth Sir Lewis his Brother, if it come of Embassage, The Master of the Ceremonies must give it passage. I, quoth Sir Robert Drury, that were your part. If so it had been a forrein Fart. Nay, said Sir Richard Lovelace, to end the difference. It were fit with the Lords to have a conference. 86 Musaruni Delicics : Or, Hark, quoth Sir lohn Townsend, this Fart had the might, To deny his owne Master to be dubbed Knight, For had it ambition, or orationis pars. Your Son could have told him, quid est Ars. Quoth Sir Thomas Lake, if this house be not able To censure this Fart, I'le have it to the Councel Table. It were no great grievance, qd, M. Hare, If the Surveyour herein had his share. Be patient Gentlemen, quoth Sir Francis Bacon, There's none of us all but may be thus mistaken. Silence, quoth Bojid, though words be but wind. Yet I doe mislike these Motions behinde. Then, quoth Mr. Price, it stinks tlie more you stir it, Naturam expellas furca, recurrit. Then gan sage Mounson silence to break. And said, this Fart would make an Image speak. Up rises the Speaker, that noble Ephestimi, And sayes, Gentlemen, I'le put you a question : The question propounded the eares did lose, For the Major part went there with the nose. Sir Robert Cotton, well read in old stories, (Having conferred his notes with Mr. Pories, I can well witnesse that these are no fables) Said, 'twas hard to put the Fart in his Tables. If 'twould bear an Action, saith Sir Tho: Holcrofi, I'ld make of this Fart a Bolt or a shaft. Quoth Sir Roger Ashton, 'twould mend well the matter. If 'twere shav'd and well wash'd in rose water : Why, quoth Sir Roger Acton, how should I tell it, A Fart by hearsay, and neither hear it nor smell it ? The Muses Recreation. 8 7 Quoth Sir Thomas Knevet, I fear here doth lurk In this Hallow Vault, some more powder work. Then precisely rose Sir Anthony Cope, And pra/d to God, 'twere no Bull from the Pope. Quoth Sir The: Chaloner, I'le demonstrate this fart To b'a voice of the Belly, and not of the heart. Then by my Faith saith Sir Edwin Sandyes, He playes not by th'line, this Gentleman bandies. Then said Sir George More, in his wonted order, I mean but to speak against the houses disorder. The Fart which we favour far more then is fit, I wish to the Sergeant you would commit. The Sergeant refus'd it, humbly on's knees. For Farts break Prison, and never pay Fees t Wherefore this motion without reason stands To charg me with what I can't hold in my hands. Then quoth the Clerk, I now plainly see That a private Act is some gaine for me. All which was admitted by Sir Thomas Freak, This Gentleman saith, his Shoo did but creak Then said Sir Richard Gargrave by and by. This Gentleman speaketh as well as I. But all at last said, it was most fit. The Fart as a Traitor, to the Tower to commit : Where as they say, it remaines to this houre. Yet not close prisoner, but at large in the Tower. 88 Musarum DelicicB : Or, The Farts Epitaph. REader, I was borne and cryed, Crackt so, smelt so, and so dyed. Like to Csesars was my death. He in Senat lost his breath ; And alike inter' d doth lye. Thy famous Romulus and I. And, at last, like Yktra. /aire, T left the Common wealth mine Aire. Will Bagnalls Ballet. A Ballet, a Ballet, let every Poet, A Ballet make with speed. And he that hath wit, now let him shew it, For never was greater need. And I that never made Ballet before, Will make one now, though I never make more. O Women, monstrous women. What doe you meane to doe i It is their pride and strange attire That bindes me to this taske, Which King and Court did much admire, At the last Christmas Maske : The Muses Recreation. 89 But by your entertainment then, You should have smalt cause to come there agen. O Women, &c. You cannot be contented to goe, As did the Women of old, But you are all for pride and shew, As they were for weather and cold. O women, women, Fie, Fie, Fie, I wonder you are not ashamed, I. O Women, &c. Where is the decency become That your fore-mothers had ? In Gowns of Cloth, and Caps of Thrum, They went full meanly clad ; But you must jet it in silks and Gold, Your pride in Winter is never acold. O Women, &c. Your Faces trickt and painted be, Your Breasts all open bare, So farre, that a man may almost see Unto your Lady ware. And in the Church to tell you true, Men cannot serve God for looking on you. O Women, &c. But many there are of those that goe, Attir'd from head to heel, That them from men you cannot know, Unlesse you doe them feel. 90 Musaruin VelicicB : Or, But oh for shame, though you have none, 'Tis better to believe, and let them alone. O Women, &c. Both round and short, they cut their haire. Whose length should Women grace, Loose like themselves, their hats they wear ; And when they come in place Where Courtship and complements must be. They doe it like Men, with Cap and Knee. O Women, &c. They at their sides, against our Lawes, With little Ponyards goe ; Which surely is, I thinke, because They love Mens weapons so : Or else it is, they'le stab all Men That doe refuse to stab them agen. O Women, &c. Doublets like to Men they weare. As if they meant to flout us. Wast round, like Points and Ribbons too, But I pray let's look about us. For since the Doublet doth so well fit 'um. They will have the Breeches and if they can get 'um. O Women, &c. And when the Maske was at the Court Before the King to be showne. They got upon seats to see the sport, But soone they were puU'd downe : The Muses Recreation. 9 1 And many were thrust out of dores, Their coats well-cudgeld, and they call'd whores. Oh King, Religious King, God save thy Majesty. And women all whom this concernes, Though you offended be, And now in foule and ratling tearms Doe swagger and sweare at me : He tell you, if you mend not your wayes, The Devill will fetch you all one of these dayes. O Women, monstrous women. What doe you meane to doei Dr. Smiths Ballet. Will Womens vanities never have end. Alack what is the matter ? Shall Poets all their spirits spend, And Women yet never the better ? Will Bagnalls Ballet hath done no good To the head that is hid in the Taffety hood. Which makes the vertuous chew the Cud, And I till now their Debter. I once resolved to be blinde, And never set pen to sheet, Though all the race of Women kinde Were mad I would not see't. 92 Musarum Delicice : Or, > But now my heart is so big, it struts, And hold I cannot for my guts ; With as much ease as men crack Nuts My rimes and numbers meet. And first I will begin to touch Upon their daubing paint ; Their pride that way it is so much. It makes my muse grow faint. And when they are got into a new Suit, They look as though they would straight go to't. The Devill's in't, and's dam to boot, 'T would anger any Saint. Their soaring thoughts to book advance, 'Tis odds it may undoe um, For ever since Dame £ves mischance. That villanous itch sticks to um ; And when they have got but a little smack, They talke as if nothing they did lack, Of Wither Draiton or Balzack, 'T would weary a Man to woe um. Their Faces are besmear'd and pierc'd. With severall sorts of Patches, As if some Cats their skins had flead With Scarres, half Moons and Notches. Prodigious signes there keep their stations. And meteors of most dreadfull fashions. Booker hath no such Prognostications : Now out upon them wretches ! The Muses Recreation. 93 With these they are disguised so, They look as untoward as elves, Their Husbands scarce their Wives can know, Nor they sometimes themselves. And every morn they feed their chaps, With Caudles, Broths, and Honey-sops : And lap it up as thick as hops, Nere thinke on him that Delves. Sometimes I thinke them quite subdu'd. They let me use such freedome. And by and by they call'd me rude. And such a word makes me dum. They are so fickle and shy God save um That a Man can never tell where to have um. I would we were all resolved to leave um, While we hereafter need um. Their kinde behaviour is a trap For Men wherein to catch um. With Sugered words they lye at snap. But I'le be sure to watch um ; And when with every quaint devise. They get us into fooles Paradise, They laugh and leave us in a trise. The Fiend will one day fetch um. Sometimes they in the water lurk Like fish with Silver finns ; And then I wish I were the Turke, And these my Concubines. 94 Musarum Delicice : Or, But to tell you the truth without any erring, They are neither Fish, Flesh, nor good red Herring: And when so e're you find them stirring, They will put you in minde of your sins. A Syren once had got a drone, And she began to chatter. Quoth she, sweet heart I am thine owne, But I Faith it was no such matter. But when he thought her as sure as a gun. She set up her taile and away she run. As if she did mean to out-strip the Sun, The Devill could never have set her. Or if some Women mean good sooth. And purpose lawfuU marriage ; 'Tis ten to one they have never a tooth, And then poor man must forrage. Who so is sped, is matcht with a Woman, He may weep without the help of an Onyon. He's an Oxe and an Asse, and a slubberdeguUion, That wooes and does not bar Age. Your zealous Lecturers often preach. And Homilies eke expound. But Women as if they were out of their reach, Persevere and stand their ground. They may preach as well to the Walls or roof, There's not one amongst ten that are Sermon proofs Their hearts are as hard as a Horses hoofe, And as hollow, but not so sound. The Muses Recreation. 95 And when doe you thinke this yeare may mend, And come to a better passe ? In truth, I thinke, it will never have end. What never ? then out, Alas ! They hold such wicked Counsells between um, We can doe little else but make Ballads against um. Ten thousand furies I think are in um, Is not this a pittifuU case ? I thinke it were not much amisse, To bring them into a Play, There's matter enough and enough I wisse. And I'le have the second day ; Where some shall be attir'd like Pages, The rest shall be as they are Bagages ; He that sets them awork, will pay them their wages. Troth that's the onely way. And now we have brought them upon the stage. All sorts of people among ; I'le there expose them like Birds in a Cage, To be gap'd on in midst of the throng. Nay, now I have got them within my Clutches, I'le neither favour Lady nor Dutches, Although they may think this over-much is. They are no more to me, then those that goe on crutches. / made this staffe too long. Now Lord preserve our gracious Queen, That gives her cautions ample, 96 Musarum Delicia : Or, Yet they as if it never had been, On all good precepts trample. But heres the spite, it would anger a stone. That a Woman should goe to Heaven alone : But it will never be by hope that's bred in the bone, They'l never mend by example. Upon Sir John Sucklings most warlike preparations for the Scotish Warre. Sir John got him on an Ambling Nag, To Scotland for to ride a, With a hundred horse more, all his own he swore To guard him on every side a. No Errant Knight ever went to fight With halfe so gay a Bravado, Had you seen but his look, you'ld have sworn on a book Hee'ld have conquer'd a whole Armado. The Ladyes ran all to the windowes to see So gallant and warlike a sight a, And as he pass'd by, they began to cry. Sir yohn, why will you go fight a ? But he like a cruel Knight, spurr'd on, His heart did not relent a, For, till he came there, he shewed no fear, Till then, why should he repent a ? The Muses Recreation. 97 The King (God bless him) had singular hopes Of him and all his Troop a. The Borderers they, as they met him on the way For joy did hollow and whoop a. None lik'd him so well as his own Colonel, Who toke him for yohn de Weart a. But when there were shows of gunning and blows My gallant was nothing so peart a. For when the Scots Army came within sight And all men prepar'd to fight a, He ran to his Tent, they ask'd what he meant, He swore he must needs go shite a. The Colonel sent for him back agen To quarter him in the Van a. But Sir J^ohn did swear he came not there To be kill'd the very first man a. To cure his fear he was sent to the Rere, Some Ten miles back, and more a, Where he did play at Tre trip for Hay And nere saw the enemy more a. But now there is peace, he's return'd to increse His money, which lately Ijie spepit a. But his lost bpnour must still ly ii) the dust, At Barwick g.way it wept a. ^ VOL. I. H gS Musarum Delicice : Or, <^u» na/* ^a^ 'yy 'Niv* 's^/* •^iv* 'na^ "w* '^JV '^Jy* '^fl^ '^fl^ *^4^ '^5^ *^ 7)5^ C/flf Cloaks reply to the Poets Farewell. Win you be guilty (Master) of this wrong, As thus to sell your Servant for a Song, And now when I am fitter for your wear? A Poets habit ever is thred bare. (Master) if still you love the good old way, Then why not me ? why not old Cloaks I pray ? Let Revels rant in silkes . this ragged dresse. Sets forth a loyall Subjects comelinesse. Oft have I seen boyes point when you came neer, And say, There goes an honest Cavaliere. But when some Gold-bedawb'd favourite. Ruffling in Silkes hath glister'd in their sight. Then have I seen the boyes to stamp and rave, And cry Pox on him, there's a round-head knave. It is some comfort (Master) then I see, A good name you shall gaine by wearing me. Then hang good cloaths, it is the worst of crimes To weare good garments in such wicked times. A newer Cloak you might have long since got, But (pardon me) a fitter you could not You are agriev'd, 'cause I am thin and light. And truly (Master) you your self are slight : How can't be otherwise, when as you see. Your best friends sleight you ? All your friends but me. The Muses Recreation. 99 I have stuck to you in all sorts of weather, Though (I confesse) I can scarce hold together. I did not thrust my selfe upon you 'tis confest, I first was drawn, and afterwards was prest ; Then bound, then hang'd, and now I may speak true, I'le first be hang'd ere I do part from you. The most in me that you can reprehend. Is, that I have been onely your back friend. And is not this that now all good men lack ? I have conceal'd your shame behinde your back. And when some foule reports liave broken out, 'Twas I that kept them from being blown about. I patiently have suffer'd much distast. Rather then have your worship be disgrac't. I have endur'd with you all times, all weather, And shall we part now ? No, wee'l hang together. Partus Chauceri Posthumus Gulielmi Nelson. Listen you Lordlings to a noble game. Which I shall tell you, by thilk Lord S. Javie; Of a lewd Clerk, and of his behaviour bold. He was I trow, some threescore winters old. Of Cambridge was this Clerk, not Oxenford, Well known at Stilton., Stewkey, and Stamford. He haunted fenney Staunton, and Saint Ives, And fair could gloze among the Country Wives. H 2 loo Musarum Delidtz : Or, A lusty Runnyon ware he in his hose, Lowd could he speak, and crackle in the Nose. For Schollarship him car'd him light or nought, To serve his turn, he English Postills bought. He us'd no colour, nor no Rhetorick, But yet he couth some termes of art Logick, He was full rude and hot in disputation^ And wondrous frequent in his predication. Full gravely couth he spit, fore he gan speak And in his mouth some Sugar-Candy break. But yet his preaching wa« to small efifect, Though lowd he roar'd, in th'Northem Dialect. He ware a Cassock deep, but of small cost, His state was spent in Nutmeg, Ale and Toast. A gauld back'd spittle Jade for travelling He kept in summer, but the wintering Too costly was, rode he early or later. Nought was his provender but grass and water. Well liquour'd were his boots, & wondrous wide, Ne Sword ne Rapyer ware he by his side, A long vast Cloak-bag was his Caryage Ther nis the like from Hull unto Carthage. But, sooth to say, he was for ay formall. And ware a thred-bare Cloak Canonicall. He had a Deanship and a Parsonage, Yet was in debt and danger all his age, His greater summe he payes by borrowing, And lesser scores, by often punishing. If that a Problem, or a common place Come to his share, he is in jolly case j The Muses Recreation. loi Then to a Nape of Ling he would invite Some Rascall Tapster, hardly worth a Mite. Well was he known in every Village Town, The good Wives clep'd him Gossip up & down ; Oft was he Maudlin-drunk, then would he weep, Not for his sinnes, of them he took small keep : It was the humour fell down from his eyn, Distill'd from Ale, he drank but little wine ; And being asked why those teares did fall, Soothly he preached at a Funerall. And when with drinking he was some deal mellow. His motto was, Faith Lad, Ps halfe good fellow. Thus preach'd he often on an Ale-house Bench, And, when the Spirit mov'd, cough'd for his Wench, And Bastards got, which, if God send them grace. They may succeed him in his Seniors place. He was an ide Senior for the nonce, Foul may befall his body, and his bones. Upon the same. Twice twenty Sermons, & tsrice five, I ween, (And yet not one of them in print is seen) He preach'd, God and St. Mary's witnesseth. Where loud he roar'd, yet had but little pith. I02 Musarum D elides : Or, Imitatio Chauceri altera. In eundem.. LEave, Jeffrey Chaucer, to describen a Man In thine old phrason, so well as I can. I ken no glozing, for my wit is rude, Nath'lesse I'le limb out his similitude. Fierce was his look, 'twas danger him to meet. He passed like a Tempest through the street. Narrow his eyn, his Nose was Chamised, Sawfleum his Face, forked his Beard and head. Pardie I wot not what men doe him call, Dan Thomas, ne Dan Richard, n'of what Hall He is, ne CoUedge j but by th'holy Mattin, He was a frequent guest at lohn Port Lattin; And eke at all other dayes festivall. He had a liquorous tooth over all ; Ne was there any Wight in all this Town, That tasted better a Pasty of Venisoun, Ybaked with Gravy Gods plenty, It relished better then Austin's works or Gregory. Yet politick he was, and worldly wise, And purchac'd hath, a double Benefice. Small was his Wage, and little was his hire. He let his sheep accumber in the mire ; And solac'd at St. Johns, or at St. Fauls, That was a Sanctuary for his Soules. The Muses Recreation. \ o^ Sir lohn of them, must alwaies taken keep, A shitten Sheepherd cannot make clean sheep. Ne God Mercurius, ne Melpomene, E're look'd upon him at's Nativity : Or if they look'd, they looked all ascaunce. So was he made a Priest by foule mischance. Pardie he was of the worst clay /maked, That e're Dame Nature in her Furnace baked. For in his youth he was a Serving-man, And busily on his Masters errand ran ; And fairly fore a Cloak-bag couth he ride, Algates a rusty whinyard by his side ; And he that whilom could not change a groat. Hath changed, for a Cassock, his blew Coat. One cannot see the Body, nor the Bulke, That whilom did attend on aged Fulk ; A larger Gown hath all y'covered. And a square Cap doth pent-house his swjrnes head. Yet notes he got, when his Master disputed. And when the learned Papists he confuted. The Borel men sayn, he preach well ynough, But others known, that he stoln all his stufife. LustfuU he was, at Forty needs must wed. Old January will have May in bed, And live in glee, for, as wise men have sayn, Old Fish, and young Flesh, would I have fayn. And thus he swinketh ; but, to end my story, Men sayn, he needs no other Purgatory. 104 Musarum D elicit : Or, The Nightingale. MY Limbs were weary, and my head opprest With drowsiness, and yet I could not rest. My Bed was such, as Down nor Feather can Make one more soft, though love againe turn Swan ; No fear-distracted thoughts, my slumbers broke, I heard no Screech Owl shreek, nor Raven croak ; Sleep's foe, the Flea, that proud insulting Elfe, Is now at truce, and is asleep it selfe. But 'twas nights darling, and the worlds chief Jewell, The Nightingale, that was so sweetly cruelL It woo'd my eares to rob my eyes of sleep. That whilst she sung of Terms, they might weep ; And yet rejoyce the Tyrant did her wrong, Her cause of woe, was burthen of her song. Which while I listened to, and strove to heare, 'Twas such, I could have wish'd my seUe all eare. 'Tis false th^t Poets feign of Orpheus, he Could neither move a beast, a stone, or tree To follow him, but wheresoe're she flyes. The Grovy Satyr, and the Faery hyes Afore her Perch, to dance their Roundelayes, For she sings Distichs to them, whfle Pan playes. Yet she sung better now, as if in me She meant with sleep to try the Mastery. But while she chaunted thus, the Cock for spight, Dayes hoarser Herald, chid away the night ; Thus rob'd of sleep, my eye-lids nightly guest, Methought I lay content, though not at rest The: Muses Recreation. 105 Epitaph on Mistrisse Mary Prideaux. HAppy Grave thou dost enshrine That which makes thee a rich Myne, Yet remember, 'tis but loane, And we look for back our owne. The very same, marke me, the same, Thou shalt not cheat us with a Lame Deformed Carcasse ; this was faire, Fresh as morning, soft as Ayre j Purer then other flesh as faire As other Soules their bodies are : And that thou maist the better see To finde her out, two starres there be Eclipsed now ; uncloud but those, And they will point thee to the Rose That dy'd each Cheek, now pale and wan, But will be, when she wakes againe Fresher then ever ;. and how ere Her long sleep may alter her. Her Soul will know her Body streight, 'Twas made so fit for't, no deceipt Can suit another to it, none Cloath it so neatly as its owne. io6 ■ Musarum Delicice : Or, "^flf "W* *w* 'ytv* '^iv• '^iv '^^v* ^iv ^i** '^fi'' '^V 'N'V "^fi^* *^^* '^^T 'V^'* cxs2Xs2Xs in NymptonrRe^,: \ Where one drinks, and another pledges,j ,, I meane at meales, the day is Jack, The 15 of the month that's black, . : Forty eight yeareSj and sixteen hundred Since that of Grace, away are squandred, And since Parliatnent begon (I hope you'l not forget HasXjohn) Nothing remaines, but that I say, Good morrow ; that's the time o'th day. M 2 1 64 Wif Restored. An answer to a Letter from Sr. John Mennis, wherein he jeeres him for falling so quickly ta the use of the Directory. FRiend, thou dost lash me with a story, A long one too, of Directory ; When thou alone deserves the Birch That broughtst the bondage on the Church. Didst thou not treat for Bristow Citty And yeld it up ? the more's the pitty. And s^-v/st thou not, how right or wrong The common prayer-book went along ? Didst thou not scourse, as if inchanted, For Articles Sir Thopias granted, And barter, as an Author saith. The Articles o'th' Christian faith ? And now the Diirectory' jostles Christ out o'th' Church, and his Apostles ; And tears down the commnion-rayles That Men may take it on their tayles. Imagine freind, Bochus the King, Engraven on Sylla's Signet ring. Delivering up into his hands Fugurth, and with him all his Lands, Whom Sylla tooke and sent to Rome There to abide the Senate's doome, Wit Restored. 165 In the same posture, I suppose, lohn standing in's doublet and hose, DeUvering up, amidst the throng, The common-prayer and wisedom's song To hands of Fairfax to be sent A sacrifice to the Parliament : Thou litle thoughtst what geare began Wrap't in that Treaty, Busie lohn, There lurk'd the fire, that turn'd to cinder The Church ; her ornaments to tinder. There bound up in that Treaty lyes The fate of all our Christmas pyes, Our holy-dayes there went to wrack Our Wakes were layd upon their back ; Our Gossips spoones away were lurch'd Our feasts and fees for woemen church'd. All this and more ascribe we might To thee at Brktow, wretched knight. Yet thou upbraidst, and raylst in rime On me, for that, which was thy crime, So froward Children in the Sun, Amid' their sports some shrewd tume donne The faulty youth begins to prate. And layes it on his harmlesse mate, Dated From Nympton where the Cyder smiles And lames has horse as lame as Gyles The fourth of May; and dost thou heare,. 'Tis as I. take it, .the eighth yeare 1 66 . Wit Restored. Since PorttigaU by Duke Braganza Was cut from ^««w without a hand-saw. I.S. itff 'ttTTfr ^fe^fe^jic '^Tf ^yr '^to*iitr *tHr 'dir tjIt 'tilfr ijir itiltp ife* ife* 't|¥' Tft; i^r tinup HB3BSSSSS2SBS8SB3SSBaB9eSBSBaBSeaBSSSB3BSBaB^ Mr. Stnith's takirig a Purge. IN mome whfen Phmbus peep't through crevis, Bold as our Brittish Guy or Bevis I powder took, arid by his beams Befreinded,-toade a dtaughtfory«?»zia. Long had it tiOt in stomack been But from each part, came powdling in Of uncouth gear such pregnant store That gutt ""gan grumble, nock runne ore. Have yee beheld with eager haste The trewant Citts when scene is past, (As if they meant their ribs to burst "While each beares up to get out first) Cloy up the doore, till passage small Into one body rammes 'em all, And then in steed of men and witt Delivers up a lumpe of citt With no lesse fiuie in a throng Away these tachie humors flung, And downwards in a rage they drew To ramble, and bid nock adieu : But when they came to portall nastie Bumme was so straite,' and they so hastie. Wit Res toy' d. 167 That many a worthy pellett must Into one Booming shott bee thrust, At rumbling noyse the mastive growles The frighted mice forsake their holes, And Souldiers to my window come Invited thither by my dram, Tire'd with this hideous coyle behinde Nocke layd a bout him hard for winde, Hee chaf d, and fom'd, as buck embo'st. And painted like a toad that's tost. At length he gaind a litle tyme, And cleard his Organ from the slime ; Pale was his look, (for to be blunt), Arse could not sett a good face on't. But yet hee strove with visage wan To vent himselfe ; and thus began. Oh dismall Dose ! oh cursed geere ! WiU all thy body runne out here ? Will vaynes, and sinnews, flesh, and bone Be gadding, and leave nock alone ? Is it decreed, oh crewell fates ! So Mindus at her citty gates As was suspected there about Some time or other might runne out, A Divell sure bak't, and stale Was grated in my posset-ale, Or else ,'twas powder of the bones Of some foote souldier dead for the nonce, For all the way he travailes North Through stomack, belly, and so forth. 1 68 Wit Restord. Some what he seizes in each towne. And take's it with him as his owne ; Well, what so ere thou wer't, be sure Thy vengeance 'ile no more indure, Nor shall the head or stomack put More then is fitting into gutt. Why could not nostrells, eyes, or eare, By milde expences vent you there ? Or vomitt, by a neerer way. Discharge what in the stomak lay ? Or i'st not justice they that pas'd The pleasure, should the bitter taste ? Can you accuse mee ? ever came Ought in by me did body blame ? Unlesse your keeping ope my doore Drew wind, to make the fabrick roare ; I was contented once a day While you were temperate, to obay. But he is cur'st that's forc't to stand All the day long with hose in hand. Nor was the spincter muscle put At every tume to ope and shut, But there to stand, and notice take Who pass'd, and when, and for whose sake. Therefore bee warn'd keepe better dyet That all of us may live at quiett. Or ile stopp up the abuse'd course And send up fumes will make you worse And you (as Mayerne doth) they say Divert the vent another way, , Wit Restored. 169 Then spight of physick, in a word, I'le make your palate tast a tpurd, And when you belch I'le turne the sent To perfect smell of fundament. f^« %f^ <\p^ f^g^ rjy* (^jv* *^y '^jy* •^A^ ')jQ/* ')£/* "w ^c^* ^fl^ 'w '^l(v Tke Miller and the King's Daughter, By Mr. Smith. THere were two Sisters they went a playing, With a hie downe, downe, a downe-a-. To see their fathers ships come sayling in With a hy downe, downe, a downe-o- And when they came unto the sea-brym, With, d^c, The elder did push the younger in ; With, 6f-c. O Sister, O Sister, take me by the gowne^ With, 6^c, And drawe me up upon the dry ground, With, 6-A(* 'yV •^A'• Vpon lohn Fel ton's hanging in Chaines at Ports-mouth, for killing the Duke of Buckingham. HEre uninterd suspends (though not to save Surviving friends the expences of a grave Felton's dead earth, which to the world must bee His own sad monument, his Elegye As large as fame, but whither bad or good I say not, by himself 'twas writ in blood For with his body thus entomb'd in ayre Arch't o're with Heaven, set with thousand faire 1 74 Wit Resto^d. And glorious Diamond-starrs ; a Sepulcher Which time can never ruinate, and where Th'impartiall worme (which is not brib'd to spare Princes when wrapt in Marble) cannot share His flesh (which oft the charitable skyes Embalme with teares doing those obsequies Belong to men) shall last till pittying foul Contend to reach his body to his Soule. To Feltofl in the Tower. ENjoy thy bondage, make thy prison know, Thou hast a liberty thou canst not owe To such base, punishment ; keep't intire, since Nothing but guilt shackles they conscience. I dare not tempt thy valiant blood to whey In feebling it with pitty, nor dare pray ■ • Thine act may mercy finde, lest thy great story Lose something of its miracle and glory. I wish thy merit studied cruelty, Short vengance befreinds thy memory For I would have posterity to heare He that can bravely die can bravely beare.- Torture seemes great unto a cowkrds eye 'Tis no great thing to suffer, less to dye. Should all .the clowds fall out, & in that strife Lightning and thunder send to take my life, Wi^ Restored. 1 75 I should applaud the wisedome of my fate That knew to value me at such a rate As at my fall to trouble all the skie, Emptying it self upon me Jovesfull Armory ; Thy soul before was straightned, thank thy doome To show her vertue she hath larger Roome, Yet sure if every artery were broke Thou wouldst finde strength for such another stroke. And now I leave thee unto death and fame Which lives to shake arnbition at thy name, And (if it were no sin) the Court by, it ^, , Should hourely sweare before a favorite. Farwell, for thy beame sake we shall not send Henceforth Commanders that wil foes defend Nor will it ever our just Monarch please To keep an Admirall to loose the Seas. Farwell, undaunted stand, and joy to be Of publique sorrow the Epitome,; Let the Duke's name suifer, and crowne thy thrall All we in him did suffer j thou for all. And I dare boldly write, as thou darst dye. Stout Felton, Englands ransome, here doth lye. To the Duke of Buckingham. THe king loves you, you him ; both love the same, You love the King, he you, both Buck-in-game Of sport the King loves game, of game the Buck Of all men you, why you ? Why see your luck. 1 76 Wit Restored. To the Same. SOme say, the Duke was vertuous, gratious, good, And Felton basely did, to spill his bloud. If it be so, what did he then amiss. In sending him the sooner to his bliss ? All deaths seem pleasant to a good-man's Eye And bad men onely are afraid to dye ; Chang'd he this Kingdome to possess a better, Then is the Duke become lohn Felton's debter. %D^ *^V* *^i/* '^jy* i^jy* f\jy* f^^y ^jy* f^jy *ijy* *^jy* *\jV* '^i* 'vDf "^^^ '^y The Lawyer. LAwyers themselves up hold the Common weak, They punish such as do offend and steale ; They free with subtill art the innocent. From any danger, losse, or punishment, They can, but will not, keep the world in awe By mis-expounded and distorted lawe ; Alwayes they have great store of charity, And love they want, not keeping amitye. Wit Restored. 177 The Clients Transcription of the same Copy, having experienced the contrary. LAwyers themselves uphold the Common-weale They punish such as do offend and steale. They free with subtill art the innocent, From any danger, losse, or punishment ; They can, but will not keep, the world in awe By mis-expounded and distorted lawe Allwayes they have, great store of charity And love they want, not keeping amitye. The reverend Canvase, SO lowd a lye on Sunday rung, - So thicke a troupe, so grave a thrung. Assembled in a Church, to laugh. At nothing ? pardon heavens ; when halfe Had Gods marke on them ? none so good To satisfie the hungry croud ; With holsome doctrine ; none so hardy With an howers talke to quitt the tardy ? All silent brethren, and yet none Can speake by inspiration ? VOL. I. N m 178 yvic j:s.esiora. Dares none so conscious of his merit. Or presuming on the spent, With an edifying greeting Gratulate this zealous meeting ? ' Is this a day or place (O sin !) For such to have a canvse in ? Lord ! how we sat like Queene Candae^s Eunuch, reading each other faces ! Expecting when some Philips heire Would come to ascend the sacred chaire. Whilst cousning Miles the bell still knockt T' increase the number of the mockt ? But; in conclusion all the cittie Was bidden to a nunc dimitte, ■ And yet found no man to supply The office of dumbe Zacharie In our dismission, till wee tiring The bell and puUpit both conspiring, Deprived of- sound, and vesture told us The tenor onely preacht that calld us ; Wii Restord. 1 79 A non sequitur, by Dr. Corbett. MArke how the Lanterns clowd mine eyes See where a moone drake ginnes to rise Saturne craules ftiiich like' an Iron Catt, To see the naked moone in a shppshott hatt, Thunder thumping toad stooles crock the pots To see the.Merem'aids tumble Leather catt-a-mountaines shake their heeles To heare the gosh-hawke grumble The rustie ithreed, Begins to bleed, And cobwebs-elbows itches The putrid skyes Eat mulsacke pies Backed up in ilogicke brecehes Munday trenchers make good hay • The Lobster weares no daggier Meale-Mouth'd sheet-peacockes powle the starres And make the lowbell stagger* Blew Crocodiles foame in the toe Blind meal-bagges do. follow the^doe A ribb of apple braine spice- Will follow the Lancasheire dice • Harke how the chime oi Plutoes pispot A* •^A/' *^jV' %^* f^fi/* "^A* 'yv» 'yv» *\An *uy» A Letter to Ben. Johnson. Die jfohnson, crosse not our Religion so As to be thought immortall ; let us know Thou art no God ; thy works make us mistake Thy person, and thy great creations make Us Idoll thee, and cause we see thee do Eternall things, think thee eternall too. Restore us to our faith and dye, diy doorae Will do as much good as the fall of Rome : 'Twill crush an heresie, we ne're must hope For truth till thou be gon, thou and the Pope. Wit Restored. 197 And though we may be certaine in thy fall To lose both wit and judgement, braines and all, Thou Sack; nor Love, nor Time recover us Better be fooles then superstitious. Dye ! to what end should we thee now adore There is not SchoUership to live to more, Our language is refin'd : professors doubt Their Greek and Hebrew both shall be put out And we that Latin studied have so long Shall now dispute & write in 'j^ohnsons tongue. Nay, courtiers yeeld, & every beautious wench Had rather speak thy English then her French. But for thy matter fancy stands agast Wondering to see her strength thus best at last. Invention stops her course and bids the world Look for no more ; she hath already hurld Her treasure all on one, thou hast out-done So much our wit and expectation. That were it not for thee, we scarse had known Nature her selfe could ere so farre have gon. Dye ! seemes it not enough thy verse's date Is endlesse ; but thine own prolonged fate Must equall it ; for shame engross not age But now (the iith act ended) leave the stage. And let us clap, we know the Stars that do Give others one life, give a laureat two. But thou, if thus thy body long survives, Hast two eternities, and not two lives. Die for thine own sake, seest thou not thy praise Is shortned onely by this length of dales. 198 Wit Restor'd. Men may talk this, and that, to part the strife. My tenet is, thou hast no fault but life. Old Authors do speed best, me-thinks thy warm breath Casts a thick mist betwixt thy worth, which death Would quickly dissipate. If thou wouldst have Thy Bayes to flourish, pknt them on thy grave. Gold now is drosse, and Oracles are stuffe With us, for why ? Thou art not low enough. We still look under thee. Stoop, and submit Thy glory to the meanest of our wit. The Rhodian Colossus, ere it fell. Could not be scan'd and measured, half so well. Lie levell to our view, so shall we see, Our third and richest University. Art's length, Art's heighth, Art's depth, can ne're be found. Till thou art prostrate, stretch'd upon the ground. Learning no farther then thy life extends, With thee began all Arts, with thee it ends. On a young Lady, and her Knight. AVertuous Lady sitting in a muse, (As fair and vertuous. Ladies often use,) With elbow leant upon one knee so hard, The other distant from it half a yard. Her Knight, to quip her by a secret token. Said, Wife, arise, your Cabinet stands open. She rising, blush'd, and smilingly did say, Lock it then, if you please, you keep the key. Wit Restord, , 199 On a Welch^mainks devotion. THe way to make. a. Welch-man thirst, for blisse, And daily, say his, prayers on his knees, Is, to perswade him, that most certain, 'tis, ^ The Moon is made of nothing hut .green, cheese : Then he'l desire nought else, nor greater, boon. Then plac'd in heayen,,to,feed. upon, the Moon. On a' Maid's. Legge^ FAir Betty us'd to tuck her coats up high, That men her foot and leg might soon. espy. Thou hast a pretty legg, (saith one) fair Duck. Yea, two, (saith she) or else I have ill luck. They're two indeed^ they'Te twins, I think-, quoth he; They are, and yet they are not, Sir, said she ; They're birth was both at. once, I dare be sworn And yet between them both a man was bom. 200 Wit Restored. To his Sister. LOving sister, every line Of your last Letter, was so fine, With the best mettall, that the grain. Of Scriveners pin-dust had been vain. The touch of gold did sure instill Some vertue, more than did your quill. And since you write no cleanly hand, Your tokens make me understand. Mine eyes have here a remedy, Whereby to read more easily. I do but jest ; Your love alone. Is my interpretation. My words I will recall, and swear, I know your hand is wondrous fair. t^^ f^^ *^j^ t>^ju* t\ju* t\jy »\jy* %V "^A* f^y* "jy* •\Df '^jy* *^y »^» On the death of Hobson, the Cambridge-Ca;rr?'i?r. HEre Hobson lies, amongst his many betters, A man not learned, yet of many Letters ; The Schollers well can justifie as much, Who have receiv'd them from his pregnant pouch. Wit Restord. 201 His carriage is well known, oft hath he gone An Embassie, 'twixt father and the son. In Cambridge few (in good time be it spoken) But will remember him by some good token. From thence to London rode he day by day, Till death benighting him, he lost his way. Nor wonder is it, that he thus is gone. Since most men know, he long was drawing on. His Team was of the best, nor could he have Them mir'd in any ground, but in the grave ; And there he sticks indeed, still like to stand, Untill some Angell lend his helping hand. So rests in peace the ever toihng Swain, And supream Waggoner, next Charts his wain. Another on the same. HEre lieth one, who did most truely prove. That he could never die, whilst he could move. So hung his destiny, never to rot. Whilst he could but jogg on, and keep his trot. Made of Sphear mettall, never to decay, Untill his resolution made of stay. Time numbers motion, yet without a crime, 'Gainst old truth, motion numbered out his time. And like some Engine mov'd, with wheeles and weight, His principles once ceas'd, he ended streight. 202 Wit Restor'dl Rest, that gives all men life, gave, him his death, And too much breathing put him out of breath. For had his doings lasted as they) were He had-been an immortall Carrier. Another. HEre lies old Hobson 1 Death hath his desire, And here (alasse) hath left him in the mire ; Or else the waies being foul, twenty to one, ■ He's here stuck in a slough, and overthrown. 'Twas Such a shifter, that if truth were known,- Death was half glad that he had got him down. For he hath any time this ten years full, Dog'dd him 'twixt Cambridge and the London-Bull. And surely death could never have prevail'd, Had not his weekly course of carriage fail'd. But lately finding him so long at home, And thinking now his journey's end was come ; And that he had tane up his latest Inne, Death in the likenesse of a Chamberlin, Shewed him his room, where he must lodge that night, PuU'd off his boots, and took away the light. If any ask for him, it shall be sed, Hobson has supt, and newly gon to bed. Wit Residrd: 203 Fr. Clark, Porter of St. Johns, To the President. HElp Silvanus, help god Pan, To shew my. love to this kinde man, Who out ofs love and nature good, Hath well encreas'd my store of wood. And whilest he the same peruses, Wood-Nymphs help instead of Muses. Oh thou that sitst at St. Johns helm, I humbly thank thee for my Elme ; Or if it chance an Oak to prove. With heart of Oak I thank your love. This Tree (to leave all Owi/'s fables) Shall be the Tree of Predicables. Or if you like not that opinion, The kindred Tree oi ^tz-t Justinian. Thus finer Wits may run upon't, But I do mean to make fire on't : By which I'le sit and sing, in spight of wealth. And drink in Lambs-wool to your Worship's'health. An Epitaph. HEre underneath this stone doth' lie. That worthy Knight, brave Q\r John Drie; At whose funerall there was no weeping. He d/d before Christmas, to save house-keeping. 204 Wit Res tor' d. A Wife. A Lusty young wife, that of late was sped, With all the pleasures of a marriage-bed. Oft a grave Doctor ask'd, whether's more right For Venus sports, the morning or the night. The good old man repl/d, as he thought meet, The mom's more wholsom, but the night more sweet. Nay then (said she) since we have time and leasure, We'l to't each morn for health, each night for pleasure. The constant man. HE that with frownes is not dejected, Nor with soothing smiles erected ; Nor at the baits of pleasure biteth. He whom no thoughts nor crosse affrighteth But, center to himself, controleth, Change and fortune when she rouleth. Who when the silent night begins, Makes even reckoning with his sinns : Who not deferreth till to morrow, To wipe out his black scores of sorrow. Who sets hell-pains at six and seven. And feareth not the fall of heaven. Wii Restored. 205 But's full resolv'd without denyall, To yield his life to any tryall ; Making his death his meditation, And longing for his transmigration. This is the constant man, who never From himself, nor God doth sever. To his Mistris. COme let's hug and kisse each other, Sacrificing to Love's mother : These are duties which she loves. More then thousand milky Doves Fresh bleeding on her altars. We Will not use our piety In such slaughters. Cruelty Is no devotion, nor can I Believe, that she can pleasure take In blood, unlesse for Mars his sake. No : Let us to Cytkera's Queen, Bum for sacrifice our green, And tender youth, with those divine Flames, which thine eyes begot of mine. And lest the while our zeal catch cold, In warm embraces we'l enfold Each other, to produce a heat. Thus pleasing her, we pleasure get. Then let's kisse and hugg each other, Sacrificing to LoVs mother. 2o6 Wit Restor'd. Swearing. IN elder times, an antient custom was, In weighty matters to swear by the Masse. And when the Mass was dgwn, as all. men note, Then swore they by the crosse of the grey Groat. And when the crosse was, likewise, held in scorn, Then faith and troth was all the oath was sworn. But when they had out-worn both faith and troth. Then, Dam my soul, became a common oath. So custom kept decorum in gradation : Mass, cross, faith, troth out-sworn, then came damnation. On a gopd Legg and Foot. IF Hercules tall stature might be guess'd But by his thumb, the Index of the rest. In due proportion, the best rule that I Would chuse, to measure Venus beauty by, Should be her leg and foot : Why gaze we so On th'upper parts, as proud to look below, (In chusing Wives) when 'tis top often known. The colours of their face are not their own. As for their legs,. whether they mince or stride. Those native compasses are seldom wide Wit-Hestof'd. 207 ■ Of telling truth. The round and slender.foot, Is a prov'd token of a secret note, Of hidden, parts, and- well this way may Jead, Unto the closet of .a mayden-head. Here emblems of our youth, we Roses tie ; And here, the Garter, love's, dear mystery. For want of beauty, here,^ the Peacock^'s pride, Let's fall iier. train, and fearing, to be spy'd, Shuts up her painted witnesses, to let Those eyes from, view,' which are. but counterfeit. Who looks, not if, this part be good or evill, May meet .with cloven feet, arid match the devill. For this did make the. difference between The more unhallowed creatures,! and the. clean. Well may youi judge, iter,- other parts? are Jight, Her thoughts aje , wry, that .doth; not tread aright. But then ,ther's, true perfebtion, when we.- see. Those, parts, more iabsQ.lute:.which.,hidden be. Nature; ne'rclent a fair foundatiop, For an unworthy frame to rest .thereon. Let others view the top, and limbs throughout, The deeper knowledge is to know the, root In viewing of the face, ,the,w.eakest know What beauty is, the learned look more low : And in the feet the other parts descry. As in a pool the Moon we use to spy. Pardon, sweet-heart, the pride of my desire, If but to kisse your toe it should aspire. 2o8 Wit Restored. ^ft* ^i^ ^j^* ^j^* %c^ ^i^ *^JV ^0^^ '\Af* 'sL/* *\ii/* *jy ^\£/* '^^ ^^^ ^^* py>on the view of his Mistresse face in a Glasse. A H cruel Glasse ! didst thou not see, Chloris alone too hard for me ? Perceiv'dst thou not her charming sight, Did ravish mine in cruell fight ? But then another she must frame, Whose single forces well might tame A lovers heart ; no humane one. Is proof against her force alone. Yet did I venture, though struck mute. The beauteous vision to salute. But that like aire in figur'd charms, Deceiv'd the ambush of my arms. 'Twas some wise Angel her shape took. That so he might more heavenly look. I her old captive, now do yield Her shaddowed self another field : By such odds overcome, to die. Is no dishonoured victory. H On Bond the Userer. Ere lyes a Bond under this tombe, Seald and deliver'd to, god knows whom. Wii Restored. 209 To the Duke of Buckingham. WHen I can pay my Parents, or my King, For life, or peace, or any dearer thing. Then, dearest Lord, expect my debt to you Shall be as truly paid, as it is due. But as no other price or recompence Serves them, but love, and my obedience. So nothing payes my Lord, but whats above The reach of hands, his vertue, and my love. For when as goodness doth so overflowe, The conscience binds not to restore but owe, Requitall were presumption, and you may, Call mee ungratefull, when I strive to pay. Nor with this morall lesson do I shift Like one that meant to save a better guift. Like very poor or connterfeit poor men, Who to preserve their Turky or their hen Do offer up themselves. No, I have sent (A kind of guift, will last by being spent]^ Thanks-starling, farr above the bullion rate Of horses, hangings, Jewells, coyne, or plate. Oh you that should in choosing of your owne. Know a true Diamond from a Bristow stone, You that do know they are not allwayes best In their intent, that lowdest do portest VOL. I. P 2IO Wit Restored. But that a prayer from the Convocation, Is better than the Commons protestation, Trust them that at your feet their lives will lay And know no arts but to performe and pray Whilstthey that buy perferment -vvithout praying Begin with bribes, and finish with betraying. The: Gentlemans verses before he Killed hdmselfe. HAst Night unto thy Center, are thy winges' Rul'd by the course of dull clockt plummetings? If so, mount on my thoughts, & wee'le exceed All time that's past t'gain midnight with our speed The day more favourable hasted on And by its death sent mee instruction To make thy darknesse totnbe my life, let theli Thy wonted houres seize on the eyes of men Make them imagine by their sleepe, what I Must truly act, let each Starr veyle his Eye With masques of mourninge clowdes : methinkes the owles Prodigious summons strike me, and she houles My Epicedium, with whose tragick quill He pencill in this map my haplesse ill. Caus'd first by her, whose fowle apostacy In love for ever brand her ; and when I Wii Res tor' d. 2 1 1 Am dead, deare paper (my minds heire) convey This epitaph unto her veiwe, and pray Her to inscribe it on my tombe. ITere lyes One murthered by a womans perjuryes Who from the time, she scorn' d him, scorn' d to live No rivall shall him of his death derive. A Song in commendation of Musicke. WHen whispering straines doe softly steale With creeping passion through the heart And when at every touch wee feel Our pulses beat and beare a part When threads can make A hart string quake Philosophy Can scarce denye The soule consists of harmony. When unto heavenly joyes we feigne What ere the soul affecteth most Which only thus we can explaine By musick of the winged host. p 2 2 1 2 Wii Restor'd. Whose layes wee thinke Make Starrs to winke Philosophy Cannot deny Our soule consists of harmony. O lull mee, lull mee, charminge ayr My senses rockt with wonder sweet Like snow on wooll, thy fallings are Soft, like a spirit, are thy feet Greife who need feare That hath an eare Downe let him lye And slumbring dye And change his soule for harmony. A Dialogue betwixt Cupid and a Country-Swaine. AS Cupid tooke his bow and bolt Some birding-sport to find ; He lightt upon a shepheards swaine That was some good mans hinde. Swa. Well met faire Boy, what sport abroad It is a goodly day : The birds will sitt this frosty morne You cannot choose but slay. Wit Restord. 213 Gods-ouches look, your eyes are out You will not bird I trow : Alas gee home or else I thinke The birds will laugh at you. Cup. Why man thou dost "deceave thy selfe Or else my mother lyes Who sayd that though that I were blind My arrowes yet had eyes. Swa. Why then thy mother is a voole And thou art but an elfe, To let thy arrowes to have eyes And goe with out thy selfe, Cup. Not, so Sir Swaine, but hold thy prate. If I do take a shaft He make thee know what I can do (At this the yoling Swain laught :) Then angry Cupid drew his bow Swa. For Gods sake kill mee not. Cup. He make thy lither liver ake Swa. Nay Ide be loth of that. The singing arrow hit the marke And pierc'd his silly soule You might see by his hollow eyes Where love had made a hole. And so. the Swain went bleeding home, To stay it was no boot : And found that he could see to hit, That could not see to shoot. 2 14 Wii Restoy'd. Si^h es. OTell mee, tell, thou god of winde In all thy cavemes canst thou find A vapor, flame, a gale or blast Like to a sigh which love doth cast ? Can any whirle-wind in thy vault Plough up Earths breath with like assault. Goe Wind and blow then where thou please Yea breathlesse leave mee to my ease. If thou bee'st wind, O then refrain From wracking me whilst I complain ; If thou bee'st wind, then leight thou art And yet how heavy is my heart ? If thou bee'st wind, then purge thy way Let care, that cloggs thy force, obey, Goe wind and blowe, Gt'C. These blasts of sighing raised are By th'influence of my bright starre ; The ^olus from whence they came Is love that straines to blow the same : The angry Sway of whose behest Makes hearth and bellowes of one brest Go wind and blo^ve, &'C. Wii Mestord. 215 Know t'is a wind that longs to blow Upon my Saint where ere she goe, And stealing through her fanne it beares Soft errands to her lipps and eares, And then perhaps a passage makes Down>e to the heart when breath sbsc- tafces. Go£ wind and blow, ^c. Yea gentle gale, try it againe, Oh do not passe from me in vaine ; Go mingle with her soul divine Engendring spirits like to mine : Yea take my soul along with thee To work a stronger Sympathy. Goe wind and Mow, d^•f, My soul before the grosser part. Thus to her heaven should depart, And when my body cannot lie On wings of wind, she soone shall flye ; Though not one soul our bodies joyne. Our bodies shall our soules combine, Goe, wind and Uow thou where thoupease^ Ym bnathlessc leave me to. my, ease. its Wit Restord. Weomen. WEomen are borne in Wilsheire, Brought up in Cumberland. Lead their lives in Bedfordsheire Bring their husbands to Buckingame And dye in Shrewsbury. On a dissembler. COuld any show where Flmies Tpeo]^ie dwell Whose head stand in their brests, who cannot tell, A smoothinge lye, because their open heart And lipps are jojmed so neere. I would depart As quicke as thought, and there forget the wrongs Which I have sufferd by deceitfull tongues. I would depart, where soules departed bee WTiich being freed from clowdy flesh, can see Each other so immediately, so cleare, , . That none need tongues to speak nor eares to heare : Were tongues intended to expresse the soul And can wee better do with none at all ? Where words first made our meanings to reveale ? And as they us'd our meaning to conceale ; WitRestord. 21 f The ayre by which we breathe, will that tume fogg ? Or breath turne mist ; will that become a Clogg Which should unload the mind ? fall wee upon Another Babells Sub-confusion ? And in the selfe same language must wee find, A diverse faction of the wordes and mind ? Dull as I am, that hug such empty aire, And never markt the deeds, (a phrase more faire More trusty and univocall) Joyne well, Three or foure actions wee may quickly spell A hollow heart ; if these no sight will lend. Read the whole sentence and observe the end. I wil not waite so long : the guilty man (On whom I ground my speech) no longer can Delude my sense, nor can the gracefuU art Of kind dissembling, button up his heart. His well-spoke wrongs, are such as hurtfuU words Writ in a comely hand, or bloody swords, Sheathd up in velvet, if he draw on mee My armour proof is incredulity. To a Freind. Like as the hand which hath bin usd to play One lesson long, still runs the usuall way : And waites not what the hearers bid it strike, But doth presunie by custome this will like. 2i8 Wit Rester'd. So run my thoughts which are so perfect grown, So well acquainted w4th my passion ; That now they- do prevent mee with their haste And ere I think to sigh, my sigh is past ; Is past and flown to you, for you atene Are all the object that I think upon j And did not you supply my soul with thought For want of action it to none -were brought. What though our absent armes may not enfold Reall embraces ; yet wee firmly hold Each other in possession ; thus wee see The Lord enjoyes Ms Lands where 6*16 he be. If Knights possest no more then where they sate What were they greater then a meaner state ? This makes mee firndy yours, you firmly myne That something more than bodies us combine. A Poeticall Poem, by Mr. Stephen Locket to Mistrisse Bess Sarney. TO my Bess Sarney, quintessence of beauty, I Steven Locket do present my duty. In rythem daigne goddes? to ^ceept my verses, I wis with worse wise men have wip't their A O thou which able art to take to taske all (Pox ! what will rythme to that ?) oh, I'me a raskall, But I'me turnd poet late, and for thy credit. Have pend this poem, prethee tak't and read it. TVii Restored. 2 19 Thou needs not be asham'd oft, for it raises Trophyes as high as maypoles to thy prayses. But first in order it thy head doth handle That's more orbicular than a quadrangle. On top of which doth grow a Turff of tresses Winter her selfe, rayd in her hoary dresses Of frosit, lookes not more lovely ; thy browes troly Have larger furrowes, than a feild ploughed newly. Thy eyes, ha eyes (Zounds I'am so full of clinches) Are not sunck in thy head above sixe inches ; From which distraining gently, there doth streame Rivers of whey, mixed with curdled creame. Straight as a Rams home is thy nose, more marrow Lyes in thy nostrills, than would fill a barrow. And at your lip to mak't more ornamental!, Hangs down a Jewell of S — Orientall. The bright gold & thy face are of one colour, But if compar'd with thine, that is the duller. Thy lips are white as tallow, never man did Buss sweeter things, (sure they are sugar-candid.) Thy teeth more comely than two dirty rakes are, Thy breath is stronger jthan a dgu^en jakes are. A fart for all perfumes, a turd for roses Smell men but thee, they wish them selves all noses. Thy voyce g.s sweet, as musipall, as fin.e is. As any phlegmy Hagg's, that ninty nine is. And when thou speakst, (as if th'had bin the wonder Of women kind) thy tongu's as still as thunder. But oh thy shoulders large ; 'tis six to seven. Should Atla's faile, but thou wouldst beare up heaven. 2 2 o Wit Res tor d. Thou dost excell, I warrant thee for a button, Hercules and Cams too, that stole mutton. About the wast, there thou art three times fuller. Then was the Wadham Garaganttian Stiller. Thy buttock and thy fashion are so all one, That I'de a swore thou hadst a Fardingall on Thy leggs are Badger like, and goe as even, As do lambick verses or f Steven, And now I'm come unto thy feet, where I do Prostrate my selfe, with reverence to thy shoo, Which for antiquity ne're a jot behind is. Tom Coriats, that travell'd both the Indies. For thy sweet sake, I will go down to Pluto, And in thy quarrel beat him black & blew too ; And lest Sr Cerberus should be too lusty, I have a loafe will hold him p'ay, 'tis crusty. I'le bring the Dev'll back with me in a snaffle. For in that kind I scome to take a baffle. And so I take my leave ; prithee sweet Thumkin, Hold up thy coats, that I may kisse thy bumkin. Thanks for a welcome. FOr your good looks, and for your Claret For often bidding, Do not spare it ; For tossing glasses to the top. And after sucking of a drop. Wii Restored. 221 When scarce a drop was left behind, Or what doth nickname wine e'vn wind : For healthfull mirth and lusty Sherry, Such as made grave old Cato merry ; Such are our thanks that you may have In bloud the Claret that you gave. And in your service shall be spent The spirits which your Sack hath lent. To Phillis, FYe on this Courtly life, full of displeasure Where neither frownes nor smiles keepe any measure, But every passion governs in extremes. True love and faith from hence falshod doth banish ; And vowes of friendship here like vapours vanish, Loyalty's counted but a dreame, Inconstant favours like rivers gliding. Truth is despis'd Whilst flatterie's priz'd, Poore vertue here hath no certaine abiding. Then let's no longer stay, my fairest Phillis, But let us fly from hence where so much ill is ; Into some some desert place there to abide True love shall go with us and faith unfained Pure thoughts, embraces chaste, and vowes unstain'd. Vertue her selfe shall ever be our guide, 2 22 Wit Restord. In Cottage poore where neither frowning fortune, Nor change of fate Can once abate, Our sweet content, or peace at all importune. There will we drive our flocks from hills and rallies. And whilst they feeding are, wee'l sit & dally ; And thy sweet voyce to sing birds shall invite Whilst I with roses, violets, and lillies Will flowry garlands make to crown my Phillis. Or ntiiribred verses to thy praise indite And when the Sun is Westwardly declining. Our flocksand we, Will homewards flee And rest our selves untill the Suns next shining. Women. ONce I must confesse I loved And expected love againe, But so often as I proved My expectance was in vaine. Women joy to be attempted. And do glory when they see Themselves from loves force exempted, And that men captived bee. Wit Restored. 223 If they love,, they can conceale it, Arid dissemble when they please. When as men will straight reveale it And malse known their hearts disease. Men must beg and crave their favour, Making many an idle vow ; Whilst they froward in behaviour, Faine would yeild, but know not how. Sweet stolrie-sport to theta is gratefuU, And in heart they wish to have it ; Yet they do account it hatefull Upon any termes to crave it. But would men not goe about it But leave off at all to woe, Ere they would be long without it, They would beg and crave it too. The World. WHether men do laugh or weep, Whether they doe wake or sleep, Whether they feele heat or cold. Whether they be young or old ; There is underneath the Sun Nothing in true earnest done. 2 24 Wit Restored. All our pride is but a jest, None are worst and none are best ; Greife and joy, and hope and feare. Play their pageants every where ; Vaine opinion all doth sway And the world is but a play. Powers above in clouds doth sit, Marking our poore apish wit. That so lamely without state, Their high glory imitate. No ill can be felt but paine, And that happy men disdaine. On his absent Mistresse. ABsence, heare thou my protestation Against thy strength. Distance and length ; Do what thou canst for alteration : For hearts where love's refin'd Are absent joyn'd, by tyme combin'd. Who loves but where the Graces be, His mind hath found Affectious ground Beyond time place mortality. That heart that cannot varie. Absence is present tyme doth carry. . Wit Restord. 225. By absence this good meane I gaine' That I can catch her, Where none can watch her, In some close corner of my brain. There I embrace her, and there kisse Ijer And so enjoy her, and so misse her. I The Constant Lover. Know as well as you, shee is not faire, Nor hath she sparkling eyes or curled haire ; Nor can shee brag of vertue or of truth, Or any thing about her save her youth. Shee is woman too, and to no End I know, I verses write and letters send : And nought I doe can to compassion move her Al this I know, yet cannot choose but love her. Yet am not blind aS you and others bee ; Who think and sweare they littile Cupid see Play in their Mistris eyes, and that there dwell Roses on cheekeSj and that her brest excell The whitest snow, as if that love were built On fading red and white' the bodies quilt. And that I cannot love unless I tell Wherein or on what part my love doth dwell. Vaine Hereticks you bee, for I love more Then ever any did that told wherefore : VOL. I. Q 226 IVii Restof'd. Then trouble mee no more, nor tell mee why, Tis ! because shee is shee, and I am I : The Irish Beggar. I Pray you save poore Irish knave, A hone a hone Round about the towne throughout Is poore Shone gone, Master to find, Loving and kinde But Shone to his mind's Neare the neere, Poore Shone can find none heere Which makes him cry for feare, A hone a hone. Shone being poore, his feet being sore, For which heele no more Trot about, To find Master out, He had radir go without And cry a hone, I was so curst that I was forc't A Jione a hone. . Wii Restord. 227 To goe bare foot and strips to bopt And no shooes, none, None English could I speake, My mind for to breake, And many laught to heare the moane I made, I like a tyred jade, That had no worke or trade, Cryed, a hone a hone. In stead of breakfast, Was faine runn a pace To gett more stomach to my hungry throate, And when for freind I sought. They calld me all to nought, A hone a hone. For Ladyes sake some pitty take ; A hone a hone. I serVd a lasse where was no masse No faith none ; Oft was I beat 'cause Ide not eat, On frydayes,. beefe and meat, Twice a day. And when I went to pray, Tooke holy bead away ; A hone a hone. Make Church to go Whether will or no He dye, or I doe -so, Grace a Christ, Q2 228 Wit Restored, Poor Shone loves Popish Preist, Good Catholick thou seest. A hone a hone. Answer. I prithee Shone make no more mone For thy Mr lost. I doe intend something to spend, On Catholicks thus Crost. Take this small guift, And with it make a shift ; And bee not thou bereft of thy minde, Although hee be unkind ; To leave thee thus behind To cry a hone. Buy thee some beere, And then some good cheere, There's nought for thee too deare ; Whait ere ensue Be constant still and true, Thy country do not rue Nor, cry a Jione. Wit Restored. 229 Shone Good shentry men that do intend To helpe poore Shone at's need Mine patron heer hath given mee beere And meat whereon to feed, Yea and money too And so I hope that yoii, Will do as he did do for my reliefe, To ease my paine and greife ; He eat no powdred beefe ; What ere ensue He keep my fast ^ - As in times past, , And all my prayers and vowes I will renew Cause friends I find but few, Poore Shone will still prove true. And so adieu. A Question. Ig,ske thee whence those ashes were Which shrine themselves in plaits of haire ? Unknown to me, sure each morne dyes A Phoenix for a sacrifice. I aske whence are those aires that flye From birds in sweetest harmony ? Unknown to me, but sure the choice Of accents ecchoed from her voice. 230 Wit Resior'd. I aske thee whence those active fires Take light which glide through bumisht aire ? Unknown to me, unlesse there flyes A flash of lightning from her eyes. I aske thee whence those ruddy bloomes Pierce on her cheekes on scarlet gownes ? Unknowne to me ? Sure that which flyes From fading roses, her cheek dyes. He ask thee of the lilly, whence It gaind that type of innocence ? Unknowne to me, sure natures decke Was ravish'd from her snowie necke. The R^ly. ASke me no more, whither do stray The golden atomes of the day ; For in pure love, heaven did prepare Those powders, to enrich your haire. Aske me no more whither doth haste The nightingal when summer's past ; For in your sweet devided throat She winters, and keepes warme her noate. Wit Restored. 231 Aske me no more where those starres light Which downewards stoop in dead of night ; For in your eyes they sett, and there Fixed become, as in their spheare. Aske me no more where J^ove bestowes, When J^une is past, the fading rose ; For in your beauties Orient deep. All flowers as in their bedds do sleep. Aske me no more if East or West, The Phcenix builds her spiced nest ; F6r unto you at last she flyes, And in your fragrant bosonle dyes: The Mdck-Song. I Tell you true, whereon doth light The dusky shade of banisht night, For, in just vengeance heavens allow It still should shine upon your brow. I tell you true where men may, seek The sound wliich once the owle did shreek, For in your false deviding throat It lyes,. and death, is in its noate. 232 Wit Resfoi^d. I tell you true whither do passe The smiling look out of a glasse ; It leapes into your face, for there A falser shadow doth appeare. lie tell you true whither are blown e The airy wheeles of Thistle down, They fly into your mind, whose care Is to be light as. thistles are. I tell you true within what nest . The stranger Cuckoe's eggs do rest, , It is your bosome which can keepe Nor him, nor him, where one should sleepe. The Moderatix. I Le tell, you where another sun That setts, as riseing it begun. It is my selfe who keepes one spheaxe And were the same if men so were. What need I tell, that life and death, May passe in sentence from one breath ; So issue from my equall heart Both love and scorn for mens desert Wit Restored. 233 He tell you in what heavenly hell An Angell and a friend may dwell : It is myne eye whose glassy book Sends back the gazers divers look. He tell you in a divers scale One weight can up and downewards hale : You call me thistle, you a rose ; I neither am, yet both of those. He tell you where both frost and fire In peace of common seat conspire ; My frozen brest that flint is like. Yet yeilds a fire if you will strike. Then you that love, and you that loath. With one aspect I answer both ; For round about me glowes a fire. Can melt and harden grosse desire. •■^n^ •^A^ *M* f*^y* *y^ •^a^ »'yy» *>A^ ^\jy *^jy* *\jv* "jy ^^a/* ^\jy* f^^y* >^jy TAe affirmative answer. OH no, heaven saw mens fancyes stray To idolize but dust and clay ; That embleme gave that they might see, Your beautye's date but dust must bee. 234 Wit Restor' d. No Philomel when summers gon Hasts to the wood her rape to moane ; (Unwilling hers) a shamd to see Your (unlike hers) unchastity. Oh no, those Starrs flye but the sight Of what you act in dead of night, A shamd themselves should Pandars prove In your unsatiate beastly love. Oh no, that rose when 'yune is past Lpokes pale as with a poysonous blast ; And such your beauty, when as time Like winter shall oretake your prime. Oh no the Phxnix shuns the place. And feares the lustfuU fires t' embrace, Of your hot brest and barren wombe. As death or some perpetuall tombe. A discourse between a Poet and a Painter, Poet. T) Ainter, I prithee pencill to the life -L The woman thou wouldst willingly call wife, Fashion her from the head unto the heel. So perfect that but gazing thou mayst feel Pigmaleons passion : colour her faire haire, Like amber, or to something else more rare. Temper a white shall passe Pyrenean snow, To raise her temples, and on it bestow Wit Restored. 235 Such artificiall azure, that the Eye,. May make the heart beleeve the marble skye^ To perfect her had melted in soft raines, Lending a blew to brauuch her swelling veines Then Painter, to come lower, her sweet chin,. I would have small and white, not much trench'd in ; Nor alltogether plain, but such an one The nicest thought may judge equall to none. Her nose I would have comely, not too high. Though men call it, in Physiognomy, A type of honour ; nor too low, for then They'l say sha's known (God knowes) how many men ; Nor broad, nor flat, that's the hardfavour'd mould : Nor thin, nor sharp, for then they'te call her scold. Apparrell it in such a speaking, grace, That men may read Majesty in her falce. Her lipps a paire of blushing twinnes so red,, Nice fancy may depart away full fed. But, Painter, when thou com'st, unto her eye, There let thy Pencill play ; there cunningly Expresse thy selfe, for as at feasts,, so here The dainties I keep last to crown the cheer. Make her eye Love's sweet argument, a look That may discourse, make it a well writ book. Whereas in faire set characters of art, Men there may read the story of her heart. Whiter than white, if you would pourtray ought, Display her neck pure as the purest tiiought. To make her gratious give her a broad brest Topt with two milkie mountains ; down her chest. 236 Wti Restored. Between those hills let Loves sweet vally lye, The pleasing thraldome of a Love-sick eye. Still, Painter, to fall lower paint her waste Straight as the Cedar, or the Norway Mast, To take a modest step, let men but guesse By her neat foot a hidden handsomnesse. Thus, Painter, I would have her in each part, Remaine unmatcht by nature or by art. Canst thou doe this ? Painter. Yes, Sir, He draw a feature. You shall conclude that art hath out-done nature, The Pencill Sir, shall force you to confesse, It can more lively than your pen expresse. Poet. That by this then let me find. To this body draw a mind ; O Painter, to your pencill fall, And draw me something rationall : Give her thoughts, serious, secure, Holy, chaste, religious,' pur^. From vertue never known to start. Make her an understanding heart. Seat the Graces in her mind, A well taught truth, a faith refin'd From doubts and jelousies ; and give Unto her heart a hope may live Longer then time, untill it be Perfected by Eternity. Give her an honest loving mind. Neither too coy, nor yet too kind : Wit Restored. 237 But let her equall thoughts so raise her, Loose thoughts may feare, and the chast praise her. Then, Painter, next observe this rule, A principle in Apelles Schoole ; Leave not too much space between Her tongue and heart, 'tis seldome seen That such tell truth ; but let there be, Between them both a sympathy : For she whose tongue and heart keep even In every syllable, courts heaven ; If otherwise, this maxim know. False above's not true below. Thus mind and body let her be all over, A golden text bound in a golden cover. Canst thou doe this ? Painter. But Sir, Ts't your intent I should draw her in both parts excellent ? Poet. It is. Paint. Then in plain words, not in dark sense to lurk. Find you the woman ; and Tie fall to work. To B. R. for her Bracelets. 1~*Is not (Deare Love) that Amber twist Which circles round thy captive wrist. Can have the power to make me more Your pris'ner then I was before. 238 Wit Restored. Though I that bracelet dearer hold, Than Misers would a chaine of gold. Yet this but tyes my outward part, Heart-strings alone can tye my heart. 'Tis not that soft and silken wreath, Your hands did unto mine bequeath ; Can bind with halfe so powerfull charmes, As the Embraces of your armes ; Although not iron bands (my faire) Can bind more fiercely than your haire. Yet that will chaine me most will be, Your heart in True Love's-knot to me. Tis not those beams, your haires, nor all Your glorious out-side doth me thrall ; Although your lookes have force enough To make the stateliest Tyrants bow : Nor any angell could deny, Your person his idolatry. Yet I do not so much adore The temple, but the goddesse more. If then my soul you would confine To prison, tye your heart to mine ; Your noble vertues, constant love. The only powerfull chaines will prove ; To bind me ever, such as those The hands of death shall ne're unloose. Untill I such a prisoner be No liberty can make me free. Wti Restored. 239 On Tom Holland and Nell Cotton. A Light young man lay with a lighter woman, And did request their things might bee in common ; And gave her (when her good will he had gotten, A yard of Holland for an ell of Cotton. A Welch-man. JEnkin a welchman having suites in law Joumying to London chance to steal a Cow ; For which (pox on her luck as ere man saw) Was burnt with in the fist, her know not how. Being ask'd how well the case did with him stand Wee's have her now (quoth J^enkin) in her hand. •w* •^/v* vf *w *^B^ '^^ "^^ "^v '^v 'vfl/' '^A'' ^ft'' '^v* *^jy* 'yy* "^y A Woman that scratcht her Husband. A Woman lately fiercely did assail Her husband with sharp speech, but sharper nail ; On that stood by and saw her, to her sed Why do you use him so ? he is your head. He is my head (quoth she) indeed tis true, I do but scratch my head, and so may you. 240 Wit Restord. >^^£ A Mistris. HEr for a Mistris, -would I faine enjoy, That hangs the lipp and pouts for every toy : Speakes like a wag, is bold, dares boldly stand And bid love welcome with a wanton hand. Laughs lowd, and for one blow will give you three And when shee's stabbd, will fall a kissing me. If shee be modest wise and chast of life. Hang her shee's good for nothing but a wife. One fighting with his wife. MEg and her husband Tom, not long agoe. Were at it close, exchanging blow for blow. Both being eager, both of a stout heart, Endured many a bang ere they would part. Peter lookt on & would not stint the strife, He's curst (quoth he) that parteth man and wife. Wii Restor'd. 241 *^y f^fu* 9>ju* *M* %^ *\^ *yy» '^jy* *jy 'yv» ^^^ •^jy* "(A/* **m/* *jy* 'yv* THe whistling windes me-thinkes do witnesse this, No greif so great as to have liv'd in blisse. Then only this poore plain soug .will I sing. I was not borne, nor shall I dy^ a iKing. To leape at honour is a, daungerous. case, See but the gudgeons they will bite a pace. Untill the fatall hook be swallowed downe. Wherewith ambition angles for a ci;owiIe ,: Then be content an(i let the baitp, passe by. He hath enough jthat liveis contentedly. But if thou must advancement have, then see This is the way thoumust advanced be. True temporizing is the m^anes to climbe There is no musick without keeping time. U/fon a Gardiner. COuld he fo^et his death X that every houre ■\Yas emblem'd to it by the fading flowre : Should he, not mind his end? yes neqds he must, That still w^s conyensant 'mongs^ bedds.of dust. Then let no on. .yon in an handcberchei: ■ Tempt yourjsad eyes unto a needlesse feare ; If he, that thinkes on, -death welj live.s & dyes, The gardnei sure is.gon..to para,d.is|i,. VOL. I. R 242 IV it Restord. On his first Love. MY first love whom all beautyes did adorn Fireing my heart, supprest it with her scorn; And since like tynder in my heart it lyes* By every sparkle made a sacrifice. Each wanton eye now kindleth my desire And that is firee to all which was entire. For now my wandring thoughts are not confin'd Unto one woman, but to woman-kind. This for her shape I love, that for her face, This for her gesture, or som other grace : And somtlmes when 1 none of these can find, I chuse her by the kernell not the rinde. And so do hope though my cheife hope is gone To find in many what I lost in one. And like to merchants which have some great losse Trade by retayle which cannot do in grosse. She is in fault, which caus'd me first to stray Needs must he wander, who hath lost his way ; Guiltlesse I am, she did the change provoke. Which made that charcole which at first was oka For as a looking glasse to the aspect, Whilst it was whole doth but one face reflect ; But cract or broak in peeces, there is showne Many lesse faces, where was first but one. Wit Restored. 243 So love unto my heart did first preferre Her image, and there planted none but her : But when twas crackt & martyrd by her scorne Many lesse faces in her seat were borne, Thus like to tinder I am prone to catch Each falling sparkle, fit for any match. To his Mistris. I Will not doe sacrifice To thy face, or to thy eyes Nor unto thy lilly palme Nor thy breath that wounding balme ; But the part To which my heart In vowes is sealed, Is that mine Of blisse divine Which is concealed. Whats the golden fruit to me So I may not shake the tree ? What's that golden architecture If I may not touch the nectar ? Bare enjoying all the rest Is but like a golden feast, Which at need, ' Can never feed R 2 ,244 - Wit Jiestor'd. Our loye sick-wishes ' Let me eate • ' • SubaUntiall meat,. ■ ' ' Not view the dishes. ^^C %0^ *^u* ^^^ \Dk* %0^ ^4^ %C^ ^d^ %Q^ %0^ %0^ %C^ ^^* %V* '^iV* 2^^ ^M /i?//^r. FLy paper, kisse those hands Whence I am bard of late : She quickly will unloose thy' bands, wish me thine estate. Appeare unto her eyes Though they do bume to fumes : For happy is the sacrifice, Which heaven-fire consumes. Yet ev'n with this depart With a soft dying breath, Whisper the truths into her heart. And take them on thy death. Tell her thou canst not now New oathes or give or take, Or to repeat the fonpe? vow Wee did each other make. Wii^ Restored. 245 Say thou cam'st to complain But not of love, nor her But on my fortune being fame Thus absent to conferre. When thou hast offer'd this ■ , . I ' Porhaps then, for; thy payne, . She will impart to thee a'kisse And read the ore againe.. Perhaps' when form ihy sake, ■ ' - HS^lipps have itiade ihee blest, That'so embalmd thee, she will make Thy grave within her brest Oh never then desire To rise from such a roome : Who would not leave his life t'aspire In death to such a tombe. 'And ini these joyes excesse, i, ,•/, ■, , Melt, languish,; faint, and dye ; For might I have so good accesse To her, ev'n so would I. 246 Wii Restord. An Epitaph upon Hurry the Taylor. Within this tombe is honest Hurry layd, Who in good fashion Hv'd, good fashion dy'd. T'is strange that death so soon cut off his thread Som say his end not full done, he was dead. But here the knot is, and I thus it scann He took a yard, whose due was but a spann. How ere hee's happy, and I know fiiU well He's now in heaven since here he had his hell. Scylla toothlesse. SCylla is toouthlesse ; yet when she was young. She had both tooth enough, and too much tongue : What should I now of toothlesse Scylla say ? But that her tongue hath wome her teeth away. A Vicar. AN honest Vicar riding by the way, Not knowing better how to spend the day Did sing unto himself Genevaes psalmes ; A blind man hearing him straight askt an almes Wit Restored. 247 To whom (quoth he) with coine I cannot part, But god bless thee good man with all my heart, O said the man the greater is my losse, When such as you do blesse without a crosse. "jy* *\jy '^jy* f^jy* ^\jy f^y* f^jy •yy» ^\jy "^jy ^\jy* '^^* "V^ *>£•• 'yv' '^jy* On a Ribband. THis silken wreath that circles-in my arms Is but an emblem of your mystick charmes ; Wherewith the magick of your beauty binds My Captive soule, and round about it winds ; Time may weare out these soft weak bands, but those : Strong chaines of brasse fate shall not discompose This holy relique may preserve my wrist, But my whole frame by th'other doth subsist : To that my prayers and sacrifice, to this I only pay a superstitious kisse. This but the idoU, that the deity ; Religion there is due, here ceremony. That I receive by faith, this but in trust ; Here I may tender duty, there I must : This other like a layman I may bear But I become loves preist when that I weare ; ' This moves like a3T:e, that as the center stands. That knot your vertue tyes, this but your hands. That nature fram'd, but this is made by art This makes my arme your prisoner, that my heart. 248 Wit Res ford. 7a/* •^v* ^^» %^* ^^* On Dr. Corbet fs Marriage. COme all yee Muses and rejoyce, At our Apolloes^ happy choice. Phm'bus has conquer'd Cupids charme, Fair Daphne flyes into his arme. If Daphne be a tree, then marke, Apollo is become the barke. Wti Restored. 249 If Daphne be a branch of bay, He weares her for a crowne to day : O happy bridegrdme which dost wed Thy selfe -unto a -virgins bed. , Let thy Ibve burne vidth hot desire, Shelackes no Oyle, to feed the fire. You know not poore Pigmaleons lot Nor have you ameere idoll got. You no Ixion, you' no' prGild Juno makes ;imbrac^ a cloud. Looke bow pure Z??a*f^/- skin Appeares as itisshadO*'d in A crystall streame ; or looke what grace, Shines in^ fair Venus lovely ' face j Whilst She Adonis, Courts and woes Suchbeautyes^ yea and more than fhose, Spalrkle in her ; see but 'her, soul, And you will judge. those b^autyes' foul. Her rarest beautye is -within, She's fairest where she is 'not seen ;' Now her perfection's character You have approy'dand';chosen her. ■■ / ' Oh precious she 1 -at this weddiUgy i The Jewell weares the marriage ring. Her understanding's deep, like the Venetian Z>uke yowvfedd the sea, • . A sea deep, bottomelesse, profound, And which none but your selfe may sound. Blind Cupid shot not this love^dart. Your reason chose, and not your heart ; 250 Wit Restord. You knew her little, and when her Apron was but a muckender, When that same Corrall which doth deck Her lippes, she wore about her neck : You courted her, you woed her not Out of a window ; shee was got, And borne your wife ; it may be se'd, Her cradle was her marriadge bed. The ring too was layd up for it Untill her finger was growne fit ; You once gave her to play withall A babie, and I hope you shall This day your auncient guift renew, So she will do the same for you : In Virgin wax imprint upon Her brest your owne impression, You may (there is no treason in't,) Coine sterling, now you have a mint. . You now are stronger than before, Your side hath in it on ribb more. Before she was a kin to me Only in soul and amity. But now wee are, since shee your bride, In soul and bodye both allyde. T'is this hath made me lesse to doe. And I in one can honour two. This match a riddle may be styld, Two mothers now have but on child ; Yet need we not a Salomon Each mother here enjoyes her owne. Wit Restored. 251 Many there are I know have try'd, To make her their owne lovely bride ; But it is Alexanders lot, To cut in twaine the Gordian knot : Claudia to prove that she was chast, Tyed but a girdle to her wast ; And drew a ship to Rome by land But now the world may understand ; Here is a Claudia to faire bride, Thy spotlesse innocence is tryed. None but thy girdle could have led. Our Corbet to a marriage bed. Come all ye muses and rejoyce. At this your nursling's happy choyce : Come Flora straw the bridemayds bed And with a garden crowne her head, Or if thy flowers be to seek, Come gather roses at her cheek. Come Hymen light thy torches, let Thy bed with tapers be beset. And if there be no fire by, Come light thy taper at her eye, In that bright eye there dwells a starre. And wisemen by it guided are. In those delicious eyes there be. Two little balls of ivory ; How happy is he then-that may With these two dainty balls goe play. Let not a teare drop from that eye Unlesse for very joy to cry. 252 Wit Res tor' d. O let your joy continue ; may A whole age be your w^dding'day. O happy virgin, it is trae, That your' deare spouse erabraceth you, Then you from heaven are not farre, But sure in Abrahams bosome are, Come all ye muses ahd rejoyce At our Apollo's happy choice. Mart : Epigr. 59 lib: 5. THoul't mend to morrow, thus thou still tell'st me, Faine would I know but this, when that will be ? Where might a man that bliss-full morning finde. In vast Armenia, or in utmost Inde ? This morning comes as slow as Platoes yeare, What might this morning cost (for sure tis deare ?) Thoul't mend to morrow : Now's too late ; I say He's only wise that mended yesterday. Wit Restored. 253 "ify* '\Af* %B^* %^* ^jc^ ^'jy* %o^ ^iv ^jE^ ^jv* ^iv* ^^* ^A/* ^^» ^A/* *\ji/» /« Richdrdum quendam, Divitem, A varum. DEvising on a time what name I might Best give unto a dry illiberall chuife, After long search on his owne name I light, Nay then (said I) No more, I have enough ; His name and nature do full well agree For's name is Rich and hard; and so is he. In Tkomam quendam- Catharum. THomas the puritaii,. cannot abide The name of Christmas, Candlemas, or. such But . calls them ever Christide, . Candletide, . At all to name the .masse (forsooth), to much : Thomas by this your rule the sacred font In Baptisni must be-wash your limmes againe. And a new name you must receive upon't For superstitious Thomas youl disdaiiie. Then might I be your godsire, or his guide. Instead of Thomas you shall have Tom-tyde. 2 54 Wit Restored. ^M* ^\A/* ^j^* ^£^* "st^ '"'lii/* "Ji/* ^>jy* ^'ijiy* ^^jy* ^'jy* '\^* *\cu' %o^ ^^* %^ Epilogus Incerti Authoris. Like to the mowing tone of unspoke speeches, Or like two lobsters clad in logick breeches ; Or like the gray fleece of a crimson catt, Or like a moone-calfe in a slippshoo hatt ; Or like the shaddow when the sunne is gone, Or like a thought, that nev'r was thought upon, Even such is man who never was begotten, UntiU his children were both dead and rotten. Like to the fiery touch-hole of a cabbage, Or like a crablowse with his bag and baggage. Or like the guilt reflection of the winde. Or like th' abortive issue borne behind. Or like the four square circle of a ring. Or like high downe a ding a ding a ding. Even such is man who breathlesse without doubt Spake to small purpose when his tongue was out. Like the fresh colours of a withered Rose Or like a running verse that's writ in prose. Or like the unfibles of a tynder box:. Or like a sound man, troubled with the pox. Or like to hobbnayles coyn'd in single pence. Lest they should lose their preterperfect-tence Ev'n such is man who dyed, and yet did laugh. To read these strong lines for his Epitaph. THE INNOVATION OF PENELOPE AND V LYSSES, A Mock-Poem. By 7. S. LONDON; Printed Anno Dom. 1658. The Epistle Dedicatory to the Reader^ {Oufteous Reader, I had not gone my full time, when by a sudden flight occasioned by the Beare and Wheel-barrow on the Bank-side, I fell in travalle, and there- fore cannot call this, a timely Issue, but a Mischance, which I must put out to the world to nurse ; hoping it will be fostered with the greater care, because of its own innocency. The reasons why the Dedication is so generall, is to avoid Carps in the Fishpond of this world, for now no man may reade it, but must patronize it. And must protect what he would greet perchance, If he were not the Patron with def-iance. You see here I have much adoe to hold in my muse from her jumping meeter : 'tis time to let slip. For VOL. I. S 258 The Epistle to the Reader. as the cunning statuarist did by Alcides foot guesse at the proportion of his whole body, so doe I forbeare the application of this Simile and rest, Yours ever. 7. S. To his Worthy Friend Mr. y. S. upon his happy Innovation oi Penelope dind. Vlysses. IT was no idlefancie, I beheld A reall obied, that, around did ^Id The neighbouring vallies and the mou7itaine tops. That sided to Parnassus, with the drops From her disheveld hay re. I sought the cause. And loe, she had her dwelling in thejawes Of pearly Helicon, assigned to bee Guide ore the Comick straynes of poetry. She lowr'd her flight, and soone assembled all, That since old Chaucer had tane leave.to call. Upon her name in print : But O the rabble Of pamphleteers even from the court toth' stable, Knights, and discarded Captaines, with the scribes- Famous in water-works, besides the tribe Of the true poets, they attended on The birth of this great Convocation. Sacred Thalia, in an angrie heat That well became h^ zeale, rose from her seat; And beckoning for silence, there disclaym'd. Protection of the poets, and then nam'd s 2 26o Wit Res ford. The cause of her revoke, for that (quoth she) So many panders 'long to poetry : A crue of Scriblers that with brazen face Prostitute art and niorke unto disgrace My patronage, each calling out on mee For midwife to his bastard progenie. Thus standing as protectresse of that brood My car is ill construed by the sister-hood. With that she paused a while, and gland st her eye Amongst the mingled pen-wrights, to descrie One to distinguish by a different style, Dull Latmus from Diviner Pindus soyle. At length shefuxft on thee, and then anon Proclaym'd the her selected champion. Then was this worke presented to h^ eare. _She smiled at it, and was pleas' d to heare Dunces so well tradudd; and by this rule, Discoverd all that nere were of the schoole Of noble poesie, and them she threw Farrefrom her care and her acquantance too ; Thus were they found and lost, and this the test. They writ in earnest whafs here meant in jest. James Atkins. Wit Restor'd. 261 To his Precious Friend y. S. upon his choyse conceipt of Penelope and Ulysses. LOng-looKt for comes at last ; twas sayd of aide, I'le use the proverb ; herein I am bold : For if the ancient Poets don't belie us Nihil jam dictum quod non dictum prius : But let thai passe : the thing I would intend, With my unpolist lines, is to commend A worke that may to an ingenious eare Be its owne orator ; for nothing here. But gratis this stupid age, wherein each mate That can but ryme, is poet laureat. It is the scorne of time, and for my part That at the best am but afreind to art ; My senses ake to heare the cry advance And dote upon the workes of ignorance; Letfooles admire folly : while I thee That into pastime tum'st their poetrie. 262 Wii Res tor' d. To his Sonne, upon his Minerva. THou art my son, in that my choyse is spoke ; Thine with thy fathers muse strikes equcLll stroke, It shewd more art in Virgil to relate. And make it worth th' heareing, his Gnats fate; Then to conceive what those great mindes must he That sought and found out fruitfull Italie. And such as read and do not apprehend And with applause the purpose and the end Of this neat Poem, in themselves confesse A dull stupiditie and barrennesse. Methinks I do behold in this rare birth A temple built up to facetious mirth, Pleasd Phoebus smiling on it; doubt not then. But that the suffrage ofjuditious men Will honour this Thalia; and for those That praise Sr. Bevis, or whats worse in prose. Let them dwell still in ignorance. To write In a new strain, and from it raise delight As thou in this hast done, doth not by chance But merit, crowne thee with the laurell branch. Phillip Massenger. Wii Restored. 263 To his Deare Friend Mr. J. S. upon his quaint Innovation of Penelope and Ulysses, FZy, Fly my muse, this is the tyme if ever To try thy wings, now sore aloft or never; Importune fame, for 'tis her hand must owe A glory to this temple. Bid her blow. Till her lungs crack, and call the world to see A worke that else will i'-ts owne truMpetbe. t would not have the squeamish Age tojeare Or slight my muse for brining up the reare: Mor let the garish rabble looke a squint, As though I were one of their tribe in pHtit : It is a Trust that fitly does become My maichlesse freindship to have such a 2iome For know no vulgar pen could ever glory To be the Master of so choise a story. Blush, Blush, for shame, yee wood-be-poets all. Here see your faces, let this glasse recall Your faults to your remembrance, numbers, ryfn Your long parentheses, and verse that clime Up to the elbow ; here you may descry Such stuffe as weaker wits call poetry : From henceforth let no pedlin^ riniers dare Frophane Thalias alters with such wcCre. For which great cure, this booke unto thy name 'Shallbe a trophy of immorfall fame, y. M. 264 Wt^ Restored. The Author to the Author. To his worthy Friend J , S. upon his happy Translation of Ulysses and Penelope, LEtjoy possesse the universall Globcy The worke is donne, bright Sol is in his robe^ Let time and nature breathe, and let the arts, Pause here a while, they have perform' d their parts: And as a Man, that from the Alpes doth fall Being in drinke,, and has no hurt at all : When afterwards hee has considerd welly And vievifd the Altitudeyfrom whence hee fell,. When in his sober thoughts hee has the hint on'f It frights him more then, ta endure the dint on't; Even so our Author, when hte veiwes aright What time and industry have brought to light. May more be troubled both in Mind and Wit, To thinke what's donne, then in the doing it. If at the spring and Birth-day of Glendour, Whom storyes treat of for a Man and more, Wit RestoT'd. 265 Jfthen I say there was such notice taken, That Wales and all her Mountaniers were shaken. What Alta-ation must there needes be now, To usher in thine Issue I who knowes how To f adorn thought, or tye the star res in strings ? Siich must his learning be that kens these things. Me-thinks the spheares should falter, and the sage Should from this time reckon another age. Gossips shall make it famous. It shall bee The common Meatpole to Posterity : The time of Edmonds and of Gertrade's birth, Was three y ear es after such a worke came forth, Then wets the great eclipse, and that the time When this Mans Granfather was in his prime; Hackster the Back-sword-man then broke his Arme, That year e old Honyman his Bees did swarme. And if Iguesse aright, b^an that year e The Hollanders Plantation in York-shire. Thus shah all Accidents be brought about. And this the onely time to find em out. Men did of old count from the dayes of Adam, And Eve the spinster (no newes then of Madam,) Some from Diana's Temple, that rarepeece. Some from the stealing of the Golden fleece; From moderne Matters som their Reckoning make From the great voyage of %c: Francis Drake, Other's from 88, and some there are TTiat count from britiging of the Brook from Ware. But all these things shall be abolish' d quite. And no Man now shall c^ehend delight, 266 WU Restoi^d. To have a sonne a daughter or a neece, Their age not dated with this master-peece. More I would say, much more ; hut that I fear My liberall commendations would appeare Like to the Gates of Thebes, where all, and spme, Fear' d lest thecifty should run out at 'urn, S-uch may my error be, whilst here I sing. Great Neptunes Anthems, to salute a spring. But such a spring, as all that ere have scene it Confesse theresnougkt but spirit of waters in it. And here let me excuse that prity Elfe Thy froward Muse that left thee to thy selfe; Whom thou upbraidsffo'r that; which I. replye. Was nought but Advantagious Policy ; T'was agood Omen itrhen she backward went That she would arme her selfe with double hint And so shee did, they I say, that doe peruse ore This seeming pamphlet which anon ensues your Loving Friend. ■7-S. Wit Restord. 267 The Author to himselfe. High as the Alpes my towring muse dos wing it. To snach the laurell from fames fane, &= fling it Even at thy crowne, thy crowne; where may it sit, Till time it selfe, being non-plu^d, wither it. Each stroake that herein of thy pen made proof , Is like the stamp of Pegasus his hoof, And does uncurtaine where does sit and sing, The Heliconians, round about the spring. I wish the world this pamphlet had not seene. Or having veiw'd it, it had faulty been. Then might I still have lov'd thee, cruellfate Has made the now the object of my hate : For envy f cedes on merit, but believe mee, I love thy person, though thy worth does grieve me. I. S. Wti Restored. 269 The Preface to that most elaborate piece of Poetry, entituled Penelope and Ulysses. NO, I protest, not that I wish the gaines To spoile the trade of mercenary braines, I am indifferently bent, so, so. Whether I ever sell my workes or no. Nor was't my aime when I took pen in fingers, To take imployment from the BaUad-singers j Nor none of these : But on a gloomy day. My genius stept to me, and thus gan say ; Listen to me, I give you information, This History deserves a grave translation ; And if comparisons be free from slanders, I say, as well as Hero and Leanders. This said, I took my chaire, in colours wrought, Which at an outcry, with two stooles I bought. The stooles of Dornix, which that you may know well Are certain stuffs. Upholsters use to sell. Stuffs, said I ? No : some Linsey-Wolseymonger mixt them. They were not Stuff nor Cloth sure, but betwixt them. The Ward I bought them in, it was without Hight Faringdon, and there a greasie lout Bid for them shillings six, but I bid seven, A summe that is accounted odd, not eeven : The Cryer thereat seemed to be willing. Quoth he, there's no man better then seven shilling. He thought it was a reasonable price. So struck upon the Table, once, twice, thrice, 270 'Wit Restored. My Pen in one hand, Pen-knife in the other, My Ink was good, my Paper was no other. So sat me down, being with sadnesse moved, To sing this new Song, sung of old by Ovid. But would you think, as I was thus preparing. All in a readinesse, here and there staring To find my implements, that th' untoward Elfe, My Muse, should steal away, andhidaher aelfe. Just so it was, faith, neither worse nor better. Away she run, er'e I had writ a Letter. I after her a pace, and beat the Bushes, Rank Grasse, Firrs, Ferne, and the tall Banks, of Rushes At last I found my Muse, and wot you.what,, I put her up, for lo she was at squat. Thou slut quoth I, hadst.thou not run away, I had made Verses all this live-long day.. But in good sooth, o're much I durst not chide her, Lest she should run away, and hide her But when my heat was o're I spake thus to her ; Why did'st thou play the wag ? I'm very sure. I have commended thee, above old Chaucer; And in a Tavern once I had a Sawcer Of White-wine Vinegar, dasht in my face, , For saying thou deservedst a better grace :. Thou knowst that then I took a Sawsedge up. Upon the knaves face it gave such a clap, That he repented him that he had spoken Against thy Fame, he struck by the same token. I oft have sung thy Meeters, and sometimes, I laught to set on others at thy, rimes, When that my Muse considered had this geare. She sigh'd so sore, it griev'd my heart to heare, Wit Restored. 271 She said she had done ill, and was not blameless, And Polyhytnney, (one that shal be namelesse, , Was present when she spoke it) and before her, My Muses lamentation was the soarer. And then to shew she was not quite unkinde, She sounded out these strong lines of her minde. THE INNOVATION OF Vlysses and Penelope. OAU ye (i) Clip tick Spirits of the Sphseres That have ot (i) seilse to hear Ot (3) uSe of feares, And you in number (4) twelve Caelestiall SigneS That Poets have made use of in their lines, And by which men doe know what Seasons good To gueld their Bore-piggs, and let Horses blood ; List to my doleful! glee, 6 (5) list I Say, Unto the Complaint of Penelopay, She w^s a Lover, I, and so was hee As loving unto her, and he to (6) she ; (l.) The harder the word is, the easier it is to be understood. (2.) (3.) In varying the use of the senses, the Author shewes himselfe to be in his wits. (4.) There the Author shewes himselfe to be well versed in the Almanack. (5.) Being twice repeated, it argues an elegant fancy in the Poet. (5) To make false English, argues as much knowledge as to make true latin. VOL. I. T 2/4 Wit Restot^d. But mark how things were alter'd in a moment Ulysses was a Grsecian bom, I so meant To have inform'd you first, but since 't is or'e. It is as (7) well, as had it been before : He being as I said, a Greek there rose A Quarrell 'twixt the Trojans and their (8) foes, I mean the Grsecians, whereof he was (9) one. But let that pass, he was Laertes Sonne. Yet least some of the difference be ig-norant, It was about a (i) Wench, you may hear more (2) on't In Virgils JEneids, and in Horner too ; How Farts lov'd her, and no more adoe But goes and steales her from her Husband : wherefore The Grsecians took their Tooles, and.fighted therefore. And that you may perceive they were stout (3) Signiors, . The Combat lasted for the space often (4) years. This Gallant bideing where full many a Mother Is oft bereaVd of Child, Sister of Brothe, His Lady greatly longing for his presence (5) Writ him a Letter, whereof this the Sense. (7.) Better once done then never. (8.) For sometimes there may happen a quarrell amongst friends. (g.) Till he was married, he could be but one, (I.) There is no mischiefe, but a woman is at one end of it. (2.) The more you heare on't, the worse you'l like it. (3.) There was a Spanish regiment amongst them. (4.) That may be done in an houre, which we may repent all our life after. (5.) Being up to the Elbowes in trouble, she expressed it in this line. Wit Restord. 275 " My pretty Duck, my Pigsnie, my Ulysses, " Thy poor Peneldpe sends a (6) thousand Kisses " As to her only Joy, a hearty 'g'reetingj " Wishing thy Company, but not thy meeting " With enemies, and'fiery Spirits in Armour, " And which perck'ance may do thy bedy harme-or " May take thee Pisoner, and clap ofi thee bolts ''^ And locks upon thy legges\ such as weare Colts. " But send me word, and ^re that thou want ransome " Being a man so comely, and so handsome, " lie sell my 'Smocke both from my backe and (7) belly '^ E'reyou want Money, Meat, or Cloathes, I tell yee. When that Ulysses, all in grief enveloped, Had markt how right this Letter was Peneloped. Laid one hand on his heart, and said 't was guilty. Resting the other on his Dagger-hilty, Thus gan to speaker O thou that dost controule All beauties else, thou hast so bang'd my soule With this thy lamentation, that I sweare, I love thee strangely, without wit or fear ; I could have wish'd (quoth he,) my selfe the Paper lake, Standish, Sandbox, or the burning Taper, That were the Instruments of this thy writeing Or else the Stool whereon thou safst inditing : And so might have bin neer that lovely breech That never yet was troubled with the (8) Itch. '(6.) Even Reckoning, makes long friends. (7.) As a pudding ha's two ends, so a smock ha's two sides. (8.) As Love doth commonly break out into an iteh, yet with her it did not so. T 2 276 Wit Restord. And with the thought of that, his Sorrow doubled His heart with wo, was so CufiPd and Cornubled, That he approv'd one of his Ladyes Verses, (The which my Author in his booke rehearses) 'Tis true quoth he, (9) Loves troubles make me tamer. Res est Soliciti plena timoris Amor. This said, he blam'd liimselfe, and chid his folly For being so ore-rul'd with melanchoUy, He call'd himself. Fool, Coxecombe, Asse, and Fop, And many a scurvy name he reckon'd up, But to himself, this language was too rough, For certainly the Man had wit enough : For he resolves to leave his Trojan foes. And go to see his Love in his best Cloaths. But marke how he was cross'd in his intent, His friends suspected him incontinent : And some of them suppos'd he was in love. Because his eyes all in his head did move. Or more or less then used, I know not which But I am sure they did not move so mich As they were wont to doe : and then 'twas blasted. Ulysses was in love, and whilst that lasted No other newes within the Camp was spoke of. And many did suppose the Match was broke ofif. But he conceal'd himself, nor was o're hasty To shift his Cloaths, though now grown somewhat nasty. But having wash'd his hands in Pewter Bason, Determines for to get a Girle or a Son, {9.) There the Author translates out of Ovid, as Ben Johnson do's in Sejanus out of Homer. Wit Restord. 277 On fair Penelope, for he look'd trimmer Then young Leander when he learn'd his (i) Primer, To Grsece he wends apace, for all his hope Was only now to see fair Paielope : She kemb'd her head, and wash'd her face in Creame And pinch'd her cheeks to make the (2) redde bloud stream She don'd new cloaths, and sent the old ones packing, And had her shoes rub'd over with Lamp (3) blacking, Her new rebato, and a falling band, And Rings with severall poesies on her hand. A stomacher upon her breast so bare. For Strips and Gorgets was not then the weare. She thus adorn'd to meet her youthful! Lover Heard by a Post-boy, he was new come over : She then prepares a banquet very neat (4) Yet there was not a bit of Butchers meat But Pyes, and Capons, Rabbits, Larkes, and Fruit ; Orion on a Dolphin, with his (5) Harpe, And in the midst- of all these dishes stood A platter of Pease-porridg, wondrous good, And next to that the god of Love was plac'd, His Image being made out of Rye-paste, (I.) By this you may perceive, that primers were first printed at Abidos. (2.) For distinction sake, because many mens noses bleed white blood. (3.) Black is the beauty of the shoe. (4.) Because a Cow, was amongst the ancient Grecians called a Neat, Gesner in his Etymolog. lib. 103. Tom 16. (5.) Better falsifye the Rime, then the Story, &c. 278 WitRestor'd. To make that good, which the old .Proverb speaks [The one the Heart, 'tother the belly breaks.] Ulysses seeing himself a welcome' Guest Resolves to have some Fidlers at the Feast : And 'mongst the various Consort choosing them That in their sleeves the armes-of Agamefn- Non, in the next verse, wore : Cr/d in a rage Sing me some Song made in the Iron-Age. The Iron-Age, quoth he that used to sing? This to my mind the Black-Smith's Song doth bring The Black-Smiths, quoth Uiisses ? and there hoUoweth, Whoope ! is there such a Song ? Let's ha't. It foUoweth, The Black-Smith. As it was sung before Ulysses and Penelope at their Feast, when he returned from their Trojan Warrs, collected out of Homer, Virgill and Ovid, by some of the Modern Familie of the Fancies. OF all the trades that ever I see. There's none with the Blacksmith compar'd may be, With so many severall tooles workes hee Which Nobody can deny. The first that ever thunderbolt made. Was a Cyclops of the BlacksmitJu trade. As in a learned author is sayd, Which Nobody, &^c. Wii Restored. 279. When Thunderjngly we l9.y about The fire like lightening flasheth. out ; Which suddainly >vith water wee .d'put WMch No, &=€ The fayrest Godesse in the skyes To marry with Vulcan did devise, -. 1 .. i' Which was a Blacksmith giscvQ and. wise j ,;,/ ,-, Which, Gfc. Mulciber to do her all right Did build her a Towne by day. and by night, Which afterwards' he- Hammersmith hight Which, dt'c. And that no Enemy might wrong her Hee gave her Fort she need no stronger, , Then is the lane of Ironmonger, WMch, &'c. Vulcan feirther did acqiiaint-,her. That a pritty estate he would appoynt her, And leave, her Seacoale-lan«i'for g^joyiiture. Which, dfc. Smithfeild he did &e$ from dirt, And he had sure great reason for!t. It stood very neare^to %enUs, court | ^^Jj"^"^^ But after in good time, and tide, It was to the Blachsmiths rtcttfy:!^d, , And given'em' \iy.iE-dniotid:Ir.Qmid.e, _ Which, dfc. Which, 6fc, 28o Wit Res tor' d. At last * he made a Nett or traine, * Vulcan. In which the God of warre was t'ane, Which ever since was call'd Pauls-chaine Which, &-C. The common proverb, as it is read, That we should hit the nayle o'the head : Without the Blacksmith cannot be said, Which. (Sr'c. There is another must not be forgot Which falls unto the Blacksmiths lot. That we should strike while the I'rons hott, Which, 6fc. A third lyes in the Blacksmiths way When things are safe as old-wives say, They have 'em under lock and key, Which, ^'c. Another proverb makes me laugh Because the Smith can challenge but halfe ; When things are as Plaine as a Pike stafife, Which, (Sfc. But'tother halfe to him does belong ; And therefore, do the Smith no wrong. When one is held to it hard, buckle and thong. Which, iSr'c. Then there is a whole one proper and fit And the Blacksmith's justice is seene in it. When you give a man rostmeat and beat him with spitt, Which, ^'C. Wit Res lord. 281 A nother proverb does seldome fayle, When you meet with naughty beere or ale, You cry it is as dead as a dore nayle, Which, &-€. If you stick to one when fortunes wheele Doth make him many losses feele We say such a friend is as true as Steele. Which &'C, Ther's one that's in the Blacksmith's bookes, And from him alone for remedy lookes. And that is he that is offo'the hookes. Which, di^c. Ther's ner'a slutt, if filth over-smutch her But owes to the Blacksmith for her leatcher : For without a payre of tongs no man will touch her Which, dfc. There is a lawe in merry England In which the Smith has some command When any one is burnt in the hand ; Banbury ale a halfe-yard-pott, The Devill a Tinker dares stand to't ; If once the tost be hizzing-hott. Which, 6-f. Which, &'c. If any Taylor has the Itch, Your Blacksmith's water, as black as pitch. Will make his fingers goe thorow-stitch. Which, dfc. 282 Wit Restor'd. A Sullen-woman needs no leech, Your Blacksmiths Bellowes restores her speech And will fetch her againe with wind in her Breech. Which, &"€. Your snuffling Puritans do surmise, That without the Blacksmith's mysteries, St: Peter had never gotten his, keyes, , . , Which every one can deny, And further more there are of those That without the Blacksmiths help do suppose St: Du7istan had never tane the Divel by the nose Which Nobody can deny. And though they are so- rigid, andj nice , , And rayle against Drabs, and Drinke, and Dice Yet they do allowe the Blacksmith,\ns vice Which, &c. Now when so many Haeresies fly about, And every sect growes still more in doubt The Blacksmith he is hanimering.it cut, Which, &C. Though Serjeants at law grow richer far, And with long pleading a good cause can marr Yet your Blacksmith takes more pains at the Barr, Which, &c. And though he has no Commander's look Nor can brag of those he hath Slayn and took, Yet he is as good as ever strooke. Which, &c. Wit Restored. 283 For though he- does lay on many a blow It mines neither freind nor foe ; Would our plundering-SQuldiers had don so, J ... Which every one can deny. Though Bankrupts lye lurking in their holes And laugh at their Creditors,, ,an.d catchpjy* ')jy *^jy* "^jy '^jy To the Tune of The beginning of the World. R. P. Delighti O Mother, chave bin a batchelour, This twelve and twanty yeare ; And Fze have often beene a wowing, , And yet, cham never the neare :; fone Gwfnball chss'\'\i&' non's!mee, . Ize look so like a lowt ; But I yaith, cham as propper a man as zhe Zhee needaot be zo stout, She zaies jf ize, cond daunce aid zing, As Tkomets MiHef con,. Or cut a cauper, as litle lack Taylor : how chee'd love mee thon. But zoft and faire, chil none of that, 1 vaith cham not zo nimble ; The Tailor hatli nought to trouble his thought But his needel and his thimble, ^ Wii Resta/d. 291 O zon, th'art of a. lawful! age^ And a jolly tidy :boy, \ Ide have thee try hei once a gajne, . She can; but say tihee nay-; • Then O Gramarcy mother, Chill zet a good va'ce b' thfe' matted, ' ' Chill dresse up iriy 2bh as fine as a dog Auld chill have a fresh bbiit at her. ■' And. first. chill put on my zunday parrell That's lae't about- the -^tuarterS' j With a paire of buckram slopps, And a vlanting pajre of garters.- • With my sword tide vast to my zide, Arid my grandvathers diig'en and dagger And a Peacocks veather in my capp Then oh how I'ch ^hall swagger, ' Nay f^k thee a lockrum napkia son, > To wipe thy snotty nose, T's ttoe matt^ vor thatj-chitt snort it out, And ylurt it athart my cloths : Ods, bodikins nay fy away, I prethee son do not so' : Be mannerly son till thou canst tell, ' Whether sheelfe ha' th6e oir floe, But ziriah; Mpther harke a while' Whoes that that coines so near ? Tig /one Grumballj hold thy peace, ■ For. feare tljiat she doe heare* u 2 292 Wit Res ford. Nay on't be she, chill dresse my words ' In zuch a scholards grace, But virst of all chall take my honds, And lay them athwart her vace. Good morrow my honey my sugger-candy, My litle pretty mouse, Cha hopes thy vather and mother be well, At home at thine own house. I'ch am zhame vac't to show my mind, Cham zure thou knowst my arrant : Zum zen, Jug, that I mun a thee. At leasure Sir I warrant. You must (Sir Clowne) is for the King, And not for such a mome. You might have said, by leave faire maid, And let your (must) alone. Ich am noe more nor clowne thats vlat, Cham in my zunday parrell, I'ch came vor love and I pray so tak't, Che hopes che will not quarrell. O Rohbin dost thou love me so well ? I vaith, abommination, Why then you should have fram'd your words Into a finer fashion. Vine vashions and vine speeches too As schoUards volks con utter, Chad wratlier speak but twa words plaine Thon haulfe a score and stutter. Wit Restord. 293 Chave land, chave houss, chave twa vat beasts, Thats better thon vine speeches ; T's a signe that Fortune favours fooles She lets them have such riches. Hark how she comes upon mee now, I'd wish it be a good zine. He that will steale any wit from thee Had need to rise betime. An Old Song. BAck and sides go bare go bare. And feet and hands go cold, But let my belly have Ale enough • Whether it be new or old, Whether it he new or old, Boyis, •whether it be new or old: But let my belly have alt enough, Whether ii be new or old. A beggar!s a thing as good as a King,' If you aske me the reason why For a King cannot swagger And drink like a beggar No King so happy as I : Some call me knave and rascall slave, But I know, how to collogue 394 Wit Restored. Come upon Um-, and upon 'um; ' ■ ' ' Will your worships and honour um. Then I am an honest rogue, then I Come upon um, and upon 'umwill you worships s If a fart flye away \?here he makes his st^y. Can any man think or suppose ? For a fart cannot teU, when^ its out where to dwfiD, Unless'e it be in your nose, unlesse it be in your nose boyes, Unlesse it be in your nose. For a fart cannot tell, when its out where to dwell Unlesse it be in your nose. Tke Sowgel^ezs Song, in the. Beggers-Bush. I Met with the Divell in the shape of a Ramme, Over and over the Sow-gelder came, I took him and haltred him fast by the home, And pickt out his stones as you'd pick out your comes. Oh quoth the Divell and with that he shrunk, And left me a.carkase ,of mutton that stunk. Walking alone but a mjle and a.halfe, I saw where he lay in. the shape of a calfe; 1 took him and gelt him e're he thought any eviH, And found him' to be but a sucking Divell. Bla quoth the Divell and clapt down his tailej And that was sold after, for excellent veale. Wzi Restored. 295 I met with the Diyell in the shape of a^JPigge, I look't at the rogue, and he look't soipeth^g bigge ; E're a man cold- fart thrice, I had njade hiip a hpgge, Oh quoth the Divell ajid tfe.en- gave a Jerke „, ; That the Jew was eoaverted by eating ofporke. In woman's attire I met him full fine, I took him at least for an AngpU divine ; But viewing his crabb-face I fell to my trade, And I made hiffl forsweare ever acting a inaid. quoth the Diveil, and so ranne away, And hid him in a Fryers gray weeds, as they say. For halfe a yeire aft^V it was'toy great chauce To meet with a gray coate that lay in a Trance, 1 took him and I graspt him fast by the codds ; Betwixt his tongue and his'taile I left little tidds. Oh, quoth the Divelly'much harme hast thou dolie, Thou art sure to betJursed of rMany a man. My ram, calfe, my pprke, my punk and my fryar, I have left them unfumish't of their best Lady ware ; And now he runs roaring from alehouse to Taveme, And sweares hee'le turn tutor to the swaggering gallant : But if I catch him He serve him no worse For He lib hina, and leave him not a peny in his purse. A Sbng^. Three merry ladds met at the Rose To speak the praises of the Nose, 29& Wit Restor'd. The nose which stands in middle place Sets out the beauty of the face ; The nose with which we have begunne, WUl serve to make our verses runne. Invention often barren growes; But still their' s matter in the nose. The nose is of so higfi a price, That men prefer't before their eyes ; And no man counts him for his fidend,^ That boldly takes his nose by the end- The nose that like Euripus flows, The sea that did the wiseman pose. Invention, &'c^ The nose is. of as many kinds^ As mariners can reckon winds, The long,, the short, the nose displayd-; The great nose which did fright the maid ;' The nose through which the brother-hood Did parley for their sisters good. Inventicm, ^'c. The flat, the sharp, the roman snout, The hawkes nose Circled round about : The crooked nose that stands awry, The ruby nose of Scarlet dye, The Brazen-nose without a face That doth the learned Colledge grace ; Invention, &x. JVU Res tor' d. 297 The long nose when the teeth appeare, Shews what's a clock if the day be clear, The broad nose stands in buckler place, And takes the blowes from off the face ; The nose being plaine without a ridge, Will serve sometimes to make a bridge. Invention, 6^c. The short nose is the Lovers blisse. Because it hinders not a kisse. The toating nose is a monstrous thing, That's he that did the bottle bring : And he that brought the bottle hither, Will drink ; oh monstrous ! out of measure. Invention, &=€. The fiery hose, in Lanthomes stead, Will light its Master to his bed ; And who so ere that treasure owes, Growes poore in purse, though rich in nose. The brazen nose that's o're the gate, Maintaines full many a Latin-pate. Invention, is'c. If any nose take this in snuffe. And think it more then is enough; We answer them, we did not fear, Nor think such noses had been here. But if there be, we need not care ; A nose of wax our Statutes are. Invention now is barren growne ; The matters out, the nose is blown. 298 WURestor'd. Phillada JIomIs me. Oh ! 'what a paifl is love, How shall I bear it ? Shee ,Tvill'iiicoiist£tot;.prDVE,. I grgastiy^'fearcit Shee so torments my mind,. . . That my. strength feileth ;. And: wavers with;thel wind, As. a shippe that saileth. , , Please her the best I^may, Shee looks another way. A lack and well a day Phillaila floutes me. All thfe'fair yesterday, She did passb by me ; she look't another way, And would not spye me. I wQo'd her fpr to dine. But could no.t^get li€rj, VVill had l;ier to the wine, Hee might intreat her. With Danid she did dance. On me she look't a sconce. Oh. thrice unhappy chance, Fhillada floutes me. Wii JResiof'd. 299 Eaire ^Jaid^ be.npt sa eoy, Doe not disdaine me : I am my mothers joy . ; Sweet, entertain me. Shee'l give me when she dyes, All th^it isvfittipg, Her iPoultreyand her. Bees And her Geese sitting. A paire of mattrisse bedds, And a bagge full of shredds. And yet for all this goods, FhUlada ^kiat^s. rat, f She hath a cloute pf.^mine • • Wrought TOtl; good Cavsntry, Which she keeps for a. sign^ Of my fidelitie. . But i'faith,, if she flinch, She, shall not weare it. To Tibb jtny totherr wench I mean, to teare it. And yet it grieves my heart, So soon from .her- to part. Death strikes me with his idart, PhUloida floutes me. , , . Thou shaJlt,eate.Cui;dp & Cream, All the .ysear, b.sti|ng ; And drink the, Christall stream, Pleasant in-tasting ; 3oa l^it Restor'di Wigge and whay whilst thou bursty And ramble berry ; Pye-lid and pasty crust, Pears, Plums, and Cherrey. /Thy raiment shalbe thin, Made of a weavers skin. Yet all's not worth a pinne, Phillada floutes me. Fair maidens, have a carey And in time take me : I can have those as fair. If you forsake me. Fof Z'i?// the dairy-maidey iLaught on me lately. And wanton VVinifrid Favours me greatly. One throws milk on my clothes^ T'other playes with my nose ; What wanton signes are those ? Phillada floutes me: I cannot work and sleep AH at a season ; Love wounds my heart so deep, Without all reason. I' gin to pine a way. With greife and sorrow, Like to a fatted beast, Pen'd in a meadow. Wit Restored. 301 I shall be dead I fear, With in this thousand yeare ; And all for very feare. Phillada flouts me. *\M* *M* *\A/* f^jy "jy* '^^/* *'>jy '\jy* »^^» f\jj/» i\jy riM* *^^ *^jj» t\A/* r^* TAe Milk-maids. WAlkeing betimes close by a green wood side, Hy tranonny, nonny with hy tranonny no ; A payre of lovely milk maides there by chance I spide With hy tranonny nonny no, with tranonny no, ' One of them was faire As fair as fair might bee ; The other she was browne. With wanton rowling eye. Syder to make sillibubbs. They carryed in their pailes j And suggar in their purses, Hung dangling at their tailes. Wast-coats of flannell, And petty-coats of redd. Before them milk white aporns, And straw-hats on their heads, Silke poynts, with silver taggs, A bout their wrists were shown ; And jett-Rings, with poesies Yours more then his owne. 302 Wit Restor'd. And to requite their lovers poynts and rings, They gave their lovers bracelets, And many pretty thingS;' And there they did get gownes All- on the grasse so~greeQ> • But the taylor was not skilfiill, For the stitches they were seen. Thus having spent the Ipng summers day,. They took their nut browne milk pailes, And so they, came away. Well fare )rau. merry milk maids ■ That dable in the dew For you have kisses plenty, When Ladyes have but few. The old Ballei of shepkeard Tom. AS I late wandred over a Plaine, Upon a hill piping I spide a shephards swaine : His slops were of green, h^s coat was of gray, And on his head a wreath of willow & of bay. He sigh'd and he pip t, His eyes he often wip't, He curst and ban'd thefeoy,': That first brought his annoy! Who with the fire of desire, so inflamyhis minde, To doate upon a lasse ; so various Se unkinde. Wit Restored. 303 Then howling, he threw his whistle a way^ ■ And beat his heeles agen the ground whereon he layj He swore & he stajfd he ^ras-quite bereft of hope,;^ And out of his scrip he pullexi a rope j ' Quotl^ he, the man that wooes, . With me prepare 'his n.oose; For rather then I'le fry, By hemp He choose to dy. Then up he rose, & he goes straight unto : a tree^:, Where he thus complaines of his lasses cruelty,. , A, pox .upon the divell, tha;^ ev^.itwas my dot,- To set my love upon sowooddish atrot. ' ^ ' ^ Had nqt I been, better ;took lone of the mill,' ' i ■• Kate of the creame house, or bony bouncing Nell: A Proud word I Sspeafe a-* i ' ' I had them. .at .-my beck;: ,.' ' " - n- •'.. And they on holydayes Would give me prick and praise. Bnt FMlis she was to me dearer then myueyes, ' For whom I now indure these plaguy miseryes, , Oft have I woo'dsher with.mawya tears, '. With ribband for her head tire, and laces from the fayre. With bone-lace and with shoone, with bracelets and with pinns. And many a toy besides : good god forgive my sinns. And yet this plaguy flirt •' Would ding them in the diirte ' And smile to see mee tear, The locks from of my haire. 304 IVit Restored. To scratch my chops, rend my slops, & at wakes to sit Like to a sot bereft both of reason sense and witt. Therefore from this bough Tom bids a dew- To the shepherds of the valley, and all the joviall crew. Farewell Thump, my ram, and Cut my bobtaild curre, Behold your Mr, proves his owne murtherer. Goe to my Philis, goe. Tell her this tale of woe. Tell her where she may finde Me tottering in the winde. Say on a tree she may see her Tom rid from all care, Where she may take him napping as Mosse took his Mare. His Philis by chance stood close in a bush, And as the Clowne did sprawle, she streight to him did rush. She cut in two the rope and thus to him she said, Dispairing Tom, my Tom, thou hast undone a maid. Then as one amaz'd. Upon her face he gaz'd j And in this wofuU case. She kist his pallid face, He whoopt amaine, swore, no swaine ever more should be, So happy in his love, nor halfe so sweet as she. Wit Restored. 305 D' iM^,4>^,4>^!«^fe4^^^i^:i^i^^s4^yi^ Obsequies. 1 Raw not so near Unlesse you shed a tear On the stone, Where I grone, And will weepe, Untill etemall sleepe Hath charm'd my weary eyes. Mora lyes here, Embalm'd with many a teare, Which the swaines, From the plaines. Here have paid, And many a vestall Maid Hath mourn'd her obsequies : Their snowy brests they tear. And rend their golden ha}Te ; Casting cryes. To Celestiall deityes. To retume Her beauty from the ume, To raigne Unparallel on earth againe. When strait a sound, From the ground, VOL. I. ^ 306 Wii Restored. Peircing the aire, Cryes, shee's dead, Her soule is fled. Unto a place more rare. You spirits that doe keep The dust of those that sleep, Under the ground, Heare the sound Of a swaine, That folds his armes in vain. Unto the ashes he adores. For pity doe not fright Him wandring in the night : Whilst he laves Virgins graves With his eyes. Unto their mempryes. Contributing sad showers. And when my name is read, In the number of the dead, Some one may. In Charity repay My sad soul, The tribute which she gave. And howle Some requiem on my grave. Then weep noe more Greife willnot restore Wit Restored. 307 Her freed from care. Though she be dead, Her, soule is fled Unto a place more rare. * *M* ^J^ »^» '^J^ %[y» •^^^ *\n/* i>jy «^jn^ f^A/» r)/y* *y^rt #\iyt »Kjyi «ji« cruore moribundos quoque. Nee camputo credant priori, nos item Novum addituros, servitutem pristincB Aliam, gemellam miperx, fraterculos , Palpare quando cceperant charos nimis, (Suffragiorum scilicet poppy smata) Et crustulum imperiire velut offam Cerbero Subblandiens decrevetat Senatulus. Nos ara loculis 2 arma visceribus pritis Indemus usque &• usque vel capulo tenus. Seri videmus quo Scotum trades modo. Princeps rebelli mitior tergo quasi Bellas equina detrahens aptat sua. At jus rapinas hasce defendit vetus ? Egyptus istaperdit, aufert Israel An bibliorum nescis Jios satellites t Prcetorianis quels cohortibus, (noz'ce Hierusalem triariis) spes nititur Sororcularum ? Carda, cardo vertitur Cupediarum, primitives legis, &^c. O bone Deus 1 quanti est carere linteis I Orexis ut Borealis, &' fames, movet I Viciuque, vestibusque cassi, hinc Kmxio Sutore simul, &• Knoxio utuntur coqtio, Pil quod algeant, quod esuriant pii. Wt£ Restord. 323 Sure England hath the Hemeroids, and these On the North-posture of the paitient seize, Like Leeches, thus they physically thirst After our bioud, but in the cure shall burst. Let them not think to make us run o'th score, To purchase villenage as once before, When an Act pass'd to stroak them on the head, Call them good Subjects, buy them Ginger-bread. Nor Gold, nor Acts of grace, 'tis Steel must tame The stubborn Scot : a Prince that would reclaim Rebels by yeilding, doth like him, (or worse) Who sadled his own back, to shame his horse. Was it for this you left your leaner soil, Thus to lard Israel with ^gypts spoyl ? They are the Gospels Life-guard, but for them (The Garrison oi -new Jerusalem) What would the Brethren do ? the cause ! the cause ! Sack possets, and the fundamental Lawes ! Lord ! what a goodly thing is want of shirts ! How a Scotch-stomack, and no meat, converts ! They wanted fpod and rayment ; so they took Religion for their Seamstresse, and their Cook. Unmask them well ; their honours and estate As well as conscience are sophisticate. Shrive but their titles, and their money poize, A Laird and twenty pounds pronounc'd with noise^ Y 2 324.. Wit Restored. Larvas quin usque detrahas, &• nummuHs Titulisque, (ut animabus) subest fallacia. Libra, &' Baron es ( detumescant interim Vocabulorum iympani) quanti valent I Hie Cantianum pmne, pjcene villicum, Solidosque totos ilia, sed gratis, duos. Apagl superbx fraudulenticR, simul ProsapiA picios, fide &= pictos procul : Opprobrium poetico vel stigmati Etiam cruci crux. Non aliter Hyperbolus Hyperscelestics ostracismo fit pudor. Americanus, ille, qui coelum horruit Quod Hispanorum repat eh sed pars quota ! Viderat in Oreo si Scotos, (hut tot Scotos ! ) Roterodamus pependerat medioximus : Sat musa / semissa fercularia Medullitils vorans, diabolis invides Propriam sibi suam Scoti paropsidem. Vt Berniclis enim Scoti, sic Lucifer Saturatur ipsis Berniclatioribus. Nam lapsus d.furc& Scotus, mox df» Styge Tinctus, suum novatur in Plaut-Anserem. FINIS. Wit Restord. 325 When constru'd, but for a plain Yeoman go, Aiid a good sober Two-pence, and well so. Hence then, you proud Impostors, get you gone, You Picts in Gentry and devotion ; You scandal to the stock of Verse, a race Able to bring the Gibbet in disgrace. Hyperbolus by suffering did traduce The Ostracism, and sham'd it out of use. The Indian, that heaven did forsweare. Because he heard the Spaniards were there, Had he but known what Scots in hell had been, . He would Erasmus-X^ks. have hung between : My Muse hath done. A Voider for the nonce ; I wrong the devil, should I pick their bones. That dish is his ; for when the Scots decease, Hell, like their Nation, feeds on Barnacles, A Scot, when from the Gallow-tree got loose, Drops into Styx, and turns a Soland Goosfe. The End, ,». J'.,. MUSARUM DELIGI^. NOTES. Pope, in classing the English poets for his projected discourse on the Rise and Progress of English poetry, has considered Sir J. Memiis and Thos. Baynall as the original of Hudibras ; see Dr. Warton's Essays. Some of these pieces certainly partake of the wit, raillery, and playful versification of Butler, and this collection, it is to be remembered, made its appearance eight years before the publication of Hudibras. Dr. Farmer has traced much of Butler in Cleveland. P. 4, 1.- I.— "Charles I." Read Charles II. The error has been ' copied from Anthony a Wood. P. 7, 1. 6. — " Valuable presents." Among them probably "the great Portugal jevpel," which he bequeaths in his will, p. g, to Lady Heath. P, vj. — '^ ff. H." Henry Herringhata was the Murray of his day. He pablished the first complete edition of Davenant's woAs, in the advertisement to which he speaks of the author as "my worthy friend." We find Pepys, June 22, i668, "calling at Herringham's," and dis- cussing Dryden's poetry. P. 19, — "Parson Weeks." John Weeks, Prebend of Bristol, a face- tious character and popular preacher mentioned by Anthony 4 Wood (Fasti Oxonienses, f. 39), and probably the same to whom Herrict dedicated' one of his poems -under the name of PoSthiimus. P. 20, 1. 18.— " Viatico" 2nd, ed. reads " Vernaccio." "Vemage, sweet, wine from Verona." — Bailees Diet. P. 20, 1. 19. " Young Herric," «'.?., the author of the Hesperides. " And now farewell, young Herrick, for young is the spirit of thy poetry, as. thy wisdom is old ; and mayestthou flourish in immortal youth, thou boon companion and most jocund ioagster."— Retrospective Revieie, vol. v. P. 20 1. 28.—" Coryat." The Eastern traveller ahd stflthor of the Crudities, vide Wood's Athense Oxon., p. 422, ed. 1721. He is again referred to, "Wit Restor'd," p. 220. 338 Mtisartcm Delicice. p. 21, I. II. — " Epsam Well." Epsom in Surrey was the Brighton of the days of Charles II. The spring was discovered in 1613, and the water was at first used externally. Later it was esteemed for its purga- tive powers. P. 21, 1. 19. — "Putney's Ferry." The bridge which crosses the Thames at Fulham takes the place of the ancient ferry. Cooniis Chase, between Wimbledon and Maiden, whence the route lay through Kingston. P. 26, 1. 8. — " Sleighted by Man." 2nd ed. reads "Sealed by a Priest." P. 26, 1. 13. — " Abhominable." Abominable is generally referred to the Latin abominor, and derived from ab and omen, as implying some- thing that is to be deprecated as ominous; " but," says the Rev. J. Boucher, in his supplement to Johnson's Dictionary, "lam not sure that the ancient spelling 'ab/4ominable,' which I find in Hawkins' old plays (see vol. i. , Lusty Juventus, in which one of the characters is called ' Abhominable Liveing,' and vol. iii. p. 140, where Miniver says, ' Die thou wilt, I warrant, in thy abhominable sins') may not lead us to a better etymology — viz. , ab and homo, as implying something that is unworthy of a man, and therefore to be detested ; and if I mistake not on this idea, a much , better reason may be given for Holo/ernes's quarrelling with what he regarded as an illiterate innovation — viz., abominable, than that which Mr. Steevens has assigned ; see note to Lovers Labour's Lost, act v. sc. i. It does not seem to be at all in cha- racter for Holofernes, a schoolmaster and a pedant, to ridicule a ' mere foppish manner of speaking, and an affected pronunciation,' but per- fectly so to take offence at a pronunciation which discovered how little the speaker knew of the origin of the words which he uttered so glibly. In the same spirit the omission of the b in doubt and debt are objected to, as losing sight of their Latin origin. All that can be further said respecting this interpretation is, that by admitting it, nothing is lost, and something may be gained." P. 26, 1. 19. — " I'll tell thee news'' 2nd ed. reads, "Here's news for Jack." P. 7, 1. 27. — " Will has in his face the flawes." William D'Avenant, created Poet Laureate in 1637. In May, 1641, being accused of seducing the army against the Parliament, he was apprehended at Feversham ; being bailed, in July following he fled into France. His loss in the field of Love is here jeered at, as usual, " habet sua castra Oupido." Davenant's personal defect in this particular has been observed by Faithorne in the portrait prefixed to his works, and is alluded to by Sir John Suckling in the " Session of the Poets," Will D'Avenant, ashamed of a foolish mischance. That he got lately travelling into France, Modestly hoped the handsomeness of his muse. Might any deformity about him excuse. Notes. 329 p. 28, 1. 12. — ^'' From Northern soyl." In 1639 Sir John Mennis was captain of a troop of horse against the Scots. The poems pp. 44, 52, are also of this period. P. 29, 1. 23. — " Kenelm." Sir Kenelm Digby. P. 30, 1. II. — " Vacuus cantabit." " Vacuus cantat coram latrone viator. " — Juvenal. P. 30, 1. 19. — "Cicero." Cicer, chick-peas, a kind of pulse. " Roun- teval" a pea so-called from the place whence it was imported. — Richardson! s Diet. P. 33, 1. 6. — " Shent" Abashed, put to shame. ' ' And every man upon him cride. That was be shente on every side." — Corner. P. 35, 1. 19. — "A yourney into France." Attributed to Dr. Corbet by Mr. Dubois, who says : " This piece is found in Dryden's Miscellanies, and is also printed in Bishop Corbet's Poems, 1672, and called Dr. Corbet's Journey, but almost every stanza is altered and spoiled. The copy in Mr. Gilchrist's 'Poems of Richard Corbet,' 1807, p. 94, labours under the same imputation, which is surprising in a man of so much accuracy and research, especially as it appears from p. xxii. that he had this work before him at the time. " There can, however, be no doubt that Sir John Mennis is the author, for although this piece is found in the first and the last edition of Corbet's Poems, it is omitted in the second, 1648, of which Mr. Gilchrist says : "It is the only impression with any pretension to accuracy, which, from its internal evidence, I suspect was published under the eye of the Bishop's family." P. 36, 1. 2. — "John Dory." Of this popular song, which is, says Mr. Gilchrist, reprinted from " Deuteromelia,'' 1609, in Hawkins' History of Music, the following is the introductory stanza : — ■ " As it fell upon a holyday And upon a holy-tide-a John Dory brought him an ambling nag To Paris for to ride-a." See also O'Keefe's song. P. 36, 1. 12. — " Pantofle," shoe or slipper. P. 38, I. 4. — '' Saint Innocents." The burying-grotmd of the church of the Innocents stood at the eastern end of the present Marche des Innocents. Near this, at the east end of the Rue St. Honore, Henry IV. was assassinated. P. 38, 1. 22. — "Duke of Guise." Charles de Lorraine, 4th Duke. In 1622 he comriianded the fleet and subdued Rochelle. p, 39j 1. 3. — "Indian Ruck." The "roc" of the Arabian Nights. 330 Musarum Delicice, . p. 39, 1. 14. — "Lewit the Just." "Lonis XIII., forno superior virtues sumamed Le jfuste. I have seen it somewhere observed that he chose his ministers for extraordinary reasons : Richelieu, because he could not govern his kingdom without fiim ; De Noyes, for psalm-singing ; and the Due de Luynes, for being an expert bird'catcher.—Crf/cAm/'j Poemi of ■Dr. (^rbet, P. 39, 1. 19. — "Firk." Mr. Steevens truly says that this word is SO variousily used by the old writers, that it is almost impossible to ascertain its precise meaning. " A trick or quirk ; a freak." — Halliwell. Or, -as a verb, "to beat or whip." — Bailey's Diet. To teaze, P. 49, 1. 1.5. P. 40, 1. 10. — " His Queen." Anned'Autriche,daUghterof Philip III. of Spain. P. 41, L 5. — " Lepanto" where the Turks lost 30,000 men. P. 41, 1. 10. — " Yewl," or Yule, is the North-Country term for Christmas. P. 42, 1. 21. — " Craifish river" i.e^ the Lea. P. 43, 1. 13. — " Paul's." "At this time the interior of the Cathedral church was a place for all kinds of bargains, meetings, and brawlings. The middle aisle was a lounge for idlers, wits, and gallants; Th^ desecration of the exterior was more abominable. The Chapels were used foi- stores and lumber ; parts of the vaults were occupied by a carpenter, and as a wine cellar." — Tintbs' Curiosities cf London. P. 43, 1. 18. — " Cheuri-illeson." Kyrie-eleison. P. 44, 1. 19. — " Upon a lame tired horse." Cf. note, p. 28, 1. 12. As has been said, p. 327, Pope has considered Sir John Mennis as the original of Hudibras. Compare this description of hotse and man with Hudibras, Canto I. : — " The beast was sturdy, large, and tall, . With mouth of meal, and eyes of walL - * * * « We shall not need to say what lack Of leather was upon his back, For that was hidden under pad. His strutting ribs on both sides show'd Like furrows he himself had plow'd. Our knight did bear no less a pack Of his own buttocks on his back. Which now had almost got the upper Hand of his head, for want of crupper, To poise this equally he bore A paunch of the same bulk before." Notes. 331 p. 46, 1. 2.—" TTie George Tavern in Souikwark," as described by Stow, and mentioned in 1554, was burnt in 1676. The present George Inn seems to have been rebuilt upon the old plan. — Timbs' Curiosities vf London. P. 46, 1. 6. — " Cantabrian Calenture." " Spanish fever. A distemper peculiar to sailors, wherein they imagine the sea to be green fields. — Sailey's Diet. - , , P. 46, 1. n.~" Eighty Eight," 1588. The year of the Spanish Armada., P. 46, 1. 17. — "Felt-makers,'' i.e., hat manufacturers. P. 48, 1. T.—"Mandevil." Sir John Mandeville, the traveller, P. 49, 1. 15. — " Ferk," see note to p. 39, 1. 19. P. 49, 1. 18'.—" Breda." Talcen by the Spaniards under SpinolW ii .1625. P. 49, 1. 20.—" JCing Oberon's Apparell." This piece has much fanciful and felictious appropriatferiess to his fiiry majesty, and is given in Ellis's Specimens, voL ,iii. p. 378. Herrick has "Oberon's Feast" and "Oberon's Palace." P. 52, 1. 2. — " Cow-ladyes," i.e., lady-ljira. P. 52, 1. J. — "His belt was made oj mirtle leaves.'' Xit Marlowe imitatea. See Walton. P. 52, 1. xt,.—" A Poet's farewell,"' &■<:. See p. 98 for reply, and note, p. 28, 1. ,12. * P. S3, 1. 22.— " Querpo." ":Cuerfo, a body, Span. To walk in cuerpo — i.e., to go without a cloak, to show one's shape." — Bailey's Diet. P. 54,1. \o.—" Blackwell /&//" formerly stood in Guildhall Yard, and was used as a weekly market for woollen cloths. ■y. 58, 1. 22. — " Corant." TheZenden Weekly Ci;»>-a«< first appeared in 1622. P. 59, 1. I. — "Dr. Budden." John Budden, of Merton College, Oxford, and King's Professor of Civil Law. Anthony a Wood says of him : " He was a person of great eloquence, an excellent rhetorician, philosopher, and most noted civilian. " P. 61, 1. 4. — "Like a Fortune, Hope?' 2nd edition reads, " Like a forlorn hope." P. 66, 1. 3. — " Madam Chevereuze.V Marie de Rohan, wife of Claude de Lorraine, Due de Chevereuze, who was the King's proxy when Charles I. espoused the Princess Henrietta, whom he attended to England, and for which he was made Knight of the Garter. The Duckess was in the first class of gay and' gallant ladies of France, and the 'Compliment, p. 67, 1. J, seems to have teen wholly poetical. 2,2)'^ Musarum Delicia. .According to Granger, she was by no nieans the icicle that hangs on Diana's temple. He has given a particular account of her, and pointed out this copy of verses on her svifipiming as not having been recorded among her adventures in the menioirs of De Retz. — Granger^ vol. iii. 283, 5th ed. P. 68, 1. I. — " Upon Aglaura in Folio." This is a satire on the folio edition of Suckling's Aglaura, published in 1638. As this play ■was printed in folio, with wide margins and a narrow streamlet of type, it is here ridiculed as ostentatious, and wittily resembled to a baby lodged in the great bed at Ware, or to a small picture in a large frame* See Langbaine^ P. 69, 1. 19. — " Upon lute-strings cat-eaten.'' A MS. note by an old hand appended to this poem in the editor's copy, attributes this piece to "the learned Mr. Masters, of New Coll., Oxon." Thomas Master, of New College, is mentioned by Anthony a- Wood as a " noted poet." P. 71, 1. 20. — " Engastrumeth." " Engastrimythos, one who emits sounds like the voice of one speaking out of the belly, such as. is reported of the Pythian prophetess. " — Bailey's Diet. P. 75, 1. 12. — " The Spanish Curate." A comedy by Beaumont and Fletcher. This song not having appeared in the Original edition of the , Spanish Curate was removed frran the text by Mr.- Colman, but it has been restored by later editors. P. 75, 1. 17. — " Let the pig turn merrily, hey." Dibdin appears to have founded the burden of a aong.in the Quaker oji this verse :— " When the lads of the village shall merrily, ah ! Sound the taljors, I'll Hand thee aloiig,' And I say unto thee that vferily, ah ! Thou and I will be first in the throng." BeW s Songs of the Dramatists, P. 82, 1. 7. — " The Fart censured in the Parliament House," Three MS. copies of this satire, in the British Museum, ascribe it to Suckling, and add to the title, " By a worshipful Jurie, each speaking in their order." See Ayscough Cat., p. 827. Mr. Gifford, in his edition of Ben JonsOn, r8l6, has the following notes on this passage in the Alchemist : — "Then my poets" (shall be) " The same that vvrit so subtly of the fart, Whom I will entertain still for that subject." ''Who the author alluded to should be, I cannot say. In the collection of poems called Musarum Delicia, or the Muses' Recreation, there is a poem called The Fart censured in Parliament House ; it was occasioned by an escape of that kind in the House of Commons. I have seen part of this poem ascribed to an author in the time of Queen Notes. 333'- Elizabeth, and possibly it maybe the thing referred to by Jonson. " — IVhalley's Jonson, "This escape, as Whalley calls it, took place in 1607, long after the time of Elizabeth. The ballad is among the Harleian MSS., and is also printed in the State Poems. It contains about forty stanzas of the most wretched doggrel, conveying the opinion of as many members of parliament on the subject, and as each of them is accompanied Tjy a brief trait or description of the respective speakers, it might, notwithstanding its meanness, have interested or amused the politicians of those days. I subjoin a few of the characters as a specimen : — " Quoth spruce Mr. James of the Isle of Wight. Philip Gawdy stroak'd the old stubble of his face. Then modest Sir John Hollis. Sir Robert Cotton, well read in old stories. T\\ss. precise Sir Antony Cope." — Vol. iv. p. 55. The last line in the second edition runs thus : — " Then precisely rose Sir Anthony Cope." P. 88, 1. 10.—" Will Bagnall." In first edition " Tom.^' It is probable that this person is William Bagwell, the hero of Gayton's " Will Bagnall's Ghost," and author of "The Mystery of Astronomy," and "Wits Extraction." This piece will also be found at p. 157 of " Wit Restor' d," with three additional stanzas. P. 89, 1. 15.—" Jet it" to strut along. "I see Parmenio come ^i^//«^like a lord." — Udal's Flowres, fol. 97. P. 92, 1. 22. — "Patches" derived their origin from the Indians, and ■were called in the dialect of the vulgar, " beauty spots." They were worn in the form of half moons, stars, and other extravagant designs. See " Wit Restor'd," p. 140, 1. 9. P. 92, 1. 27. — "Booker," the astrologer. P. 96, 1. 5. — " Upon Sir John Sucklings most warlike preparations,'' dfc. Sir John Mennis seems to have had no regard for his fellow poet, and here casts a stigma on his military character. On the 26th of May, 1639, Charles's army arrived at Berwick, and came within sight of the Scots at Dunse, where Sir John Suckling's troops, which he had accoutred at a cost of 12,000/., retreated with the rest without striking a blow. It has commonly been imagined that the lines — " For he that fights and runs away, May live to fight another day," attributed by Mr. Cunningham and Dr. Rimbault to Mennis, were to be found in this poem, but they form no part of this volume. Vide Notes and Queries, vols. i. ii. ix. x. This ballad is printed in Bishop Percy's Reliques, and is there called " Sir John Suckling's Campaigne." 334 JViusarum JUeiuta. p. 97, L (i.—"Johu de Weart." John de Wert was a German general of great reputation, and the terror of the French in the reign of Louis XIII. — Note to Percys Reliqws, Bohn's ed. 1845. P. 98, I. I.—" The Old Cloaks reply.''' Vide p. 52. P. 99, I. 17. — "Partus Ckauceri Postkumus." This piece is printed in black-letter in the second edition. P. 105, 1. i.—"Mary Prideaux." Daughter of Dr. John Prideaux, King's Professor of Divinity at Oxford, 1615 ; Bishop of Worcester, 1641. P. 107, 1. 9. — " Doctor PrideauK^s Son." r«(& supra. P. 109, 1. I.—" Covent Garden.'' The morals of the locality about this time were notorious :— " Where holy friars told their beads, And nuns confessed their evil deeds, But oh, sad change ! oh shame to tell How soon a prey to vice it fell ! How ? since its justest appellation, Is Grand Seraglio to the nation." — Satire, 1736. P. Ill, 1. 13:— " naked Bedlams, painted Babies, Spottified FaceSi and Frenchified Ladies." Authority for the rhyme will be found in Shakspeare's Benedick. "I can finde out no rime to ladie but babie, an innocent rime." — Much Ado About Nothing, act v., ed. 1622. At the time of the interregnum a pamphlet was published entitled " The loathsomeness of long hair, with an appendix against painting, spots, naked breasts, &c." A Bill against the vice of painting, wearing black patches, and immodest dress of women was also read in the House of Commons. See Granger, vol. iv. p. loi, ed. 1823. P. 112, 1. I. — " To Sir John Mennis." When the King's cause declined, Mennis adhered to Prince Rupert, while he roved on the seas again'st the usurpers in England, taking Spanish ships by way of reprisal for the respect they showed the Parliament. This poem pro- bably belongs to this period, 1631-2. P. 113, 1. 12. — "But a ." Protector, a fling at CromwelL P. 114, 1. I. — "A Defiance to K. A," i.e., King Arthur. P. 114, 1. II.— ".S^/4.," i.e.. King Arthur. " Sir Rhines of North- gales," i.e.. King Ryons of North Wales, having overcome eleven kings, they gave him their beards clean flayed off, wherewith he trimmed his mantle, and there lacked one place wherefore he sent for. Arthur's beard. Vide Sir Thos. Malory s Morte Arthur. WIT RESTOR'D. NOTES. P. 119, 1. 1. — "Mr. Smith to Capt. Mennis," &'C. In 1639 Mennis was captain of a troop of horse against the Scots. — Vide Mennis, p. 4, and several poems in " Musarum DeUcise," pp. 28, 30, 44, 52, 98. P. 119, 1. 4. — " Epsam Fearne." Vide Musarum Delicia, p. 21. P. 120. I, 24. — "Street of woman Royall," Queen Street, Lincoln's- inn-fields, where stood Conway House. — Pennant's London, P. 121, 1. 10. — " That hast read stories," &'c. Pepys bears frequent testimony to the accomplishments of Sir John Mennis : — 1662, Oct. 30, he mentions "two passages" of his at dinner with my Lord Mayor." 1663, Sept. 28, he is with Sir John at Whitehall, "looking upon the pictures, in which he, hath some judgment." 1665, Sept. 22, "discoursing concerning long life," Sir John Minnes saying that his, great grandfather was alive in Edward Vjh's time. Numerous other references will be found in his diary. P. 121. 1. 19. — "Ren of Elie." Matthew Wren, Bishop of Ely, 1638-1667. William Piers or Pierce, was Bishop of Bath and Wells at this time. P. 121, 1. 22. — " MaxwoU." .Maxwell, Usher of the Black Rod. P. 121, 1. 23. — "Finch." Sir' John Einch, appointed Lord Keeper, Jan. 17, 1640 ; afterwards L,ord Finch. P. 122, 1. 12. — "Got a boy," dfc. — ^viz., Henry IV., whose son, Henry V., invaded France, gained Agincourt, and was made Vice- regent, 1415. P. 122, 1. i'i,^-"Alde>man hight ^&//." Abell, an Alderman of London, who with one Kilvert was concerned in- a fraudulent latent relating to the sale of wine. Vide Granger, iii, 249, ed."i823, P. 124, 1. 10. — " Creeple." Cripple. P. 125, 1. 21, — " Kenelme," &'c. The answer to this will be found in Musarum Del., p. 28. P. iz6, 1. 19. — " Andrev/' Mennis was own brother to the poet. His eldest brother, born to his father by his first wife, EliiKibetA 336 Wit Res tor' d. Warham, was named Matthew, and was knighted at the coronation of Charles I. Her second son was named Thomas. Of the second wife, Jane Blenchenden, were born yohii, Andrew, and Maria. — Visitation of Kent, 1619. Harl. MS. 1106, f. 118. P. 126, 1. 22.— '' Littleton." Edward Lord Lyttelton, made Lord Keeper, Jan. 18, 1641. P. 126, 1. 24. — " Sir John Bancks.^' Made Justice of Common Pleas, Jan. 29, 1641. P. 127, 1. 1.—" Herbert." Edward Herbert, created Attorney- General, Jan. 29, 1641. — Foss's Judges. P. 127, 1. 3. — "London Recorder." Thomas Gardiner, appointed 163s, was Recorder of London at this time. He was discharged for long absence and succeeded by Peter Pheasant in 1643. Oliver St. John, who was made Solicitor- General, Jan. 29, 1641, does not occur in the list of Recorders of London, but may have acted for Gardiner during his absence. . P. 127, 1. 9. — "Sir lohn Berkly" valiantly defended himself at Exeter. Willmott acted as Commissary-General under Lord Conway at the battle of Newburne, Aug. 27, 1640. P. 129, 1. 24. — " Tyring-bitt." Tire, to tear, rend to pieces ; the piece of flesh or other matter used by falconers in training hawks. P. 130. — " Carr," Sfc. William Ker, 3rd Earl of Lothian. Mount- rosse, James Graham, 5th Earl of Montrose. Argile, Archibald Campbell, 8th Earl of Argyle. P. 134, 1. 6,.—" Fill-Dike." " February fill dike, be it black or be it white, But if it be white, its the better to like." P. 134, 1. 14. — "William Murrey." Of the King's Bedchamber ; one of those whom the Parliament wished to be removed from the King's person. — Clarendon, Hist. Rebell., p. 157. Oxford ed. 1843. P. 134, 1. 17.—" The Bear at the Bridge-foot," &=€. " Bull-bayting" and "bear-baiting" were carried on at Bankside, near the foot of Old London Bridge, but the bear-garden was removed to Clerkenwell about 1686. P. 134, 1. 20. — " Wentworth," Sfic. Thomas, Lord Wentworth, " Willmott" Henry, afterwards Lord, and subsequently Earl of Rochester. " Weston," Sir Richard ; afterwards made Earl of Portland. P. 135, 1. I. — " Burgandine." A Burgundy bear. P. 135, 1. 3. — " Stradling." Sir Edward, taken prisoner by the' Parliament forces at the battle of Edge-hill. P. 135, 1. 5. — " Hugh Pollard" Sir Hugh Pollard, who accompanied the Marquis of Hertford into the West. Vide Clarendon. Notes. 337 P; '35) !• ?■ — " George'Jjoring." Afterwards General and Lord Goring. Vide Clarendon. P. 13s, 1. 17.—" Cornwallais." Probably Sir William Comwallis, Knt. Vide Granger, iv. 159, ed. 1823. P. 136, 1. \.~"Mr. Peter Apsley." Probably son of Sir Allen Apsley. — Clarendon, p. 534. P. 137.—" Crofts," &=€. William, afterwards Lord Crofts. "Kelli- grew, " Thomas, King Charles's Jester. P. 138, 1. I. — " The Bursse of Reformation." Gresham's Exchange was founded in 1566, and opened by Queen Elizabeth in 1571, when her herald named it the "Royal Exchange." The " ^Vra/ Exchange" here alluded to was built in 1608. ' King James honoured the opening with his presence, and named it ' ' Britain's Burse" It stood to the North of Durham House in the Strand, and soon became a place of fashionable resort, the rows of shops being filled with milliners, semp- stresses, and the Kke. — Pennant's London. P. 140, 1. 9. — " Here patches are," &=€. Vide note to p. 92 Mu- sarum Del. P. 157, 1. I. — " Bagnal's Ballet." Stanzas 6, 11, and 13 are " supplied ;" otherwise this version agrees with that found in Musarum Delicia, p. 88, which see, with the note thereon. P. 164, 1. 4. — "Directory" The "Directory for the public worship 'of God" was drawn up at the instance of the Parliament in 1644. It suppressed the book of Common Prayer, and enjoined the people to make no response except Amen. P. 164, 1. 9. — " Bristow City." Prince Rupert surrendered Bristol, Sept. II, 164S, to Gen. Fairfax, almost without resistance, which cir- cumstance was the ruin of King Charles's affairs in the West. P. 16S, 1. 29. — " Mayerne." Sir Theodore Mayeme, a native of Geneva, and physician to four kings — Henry IV. of France, James I. of England, and the two Charleses. — Granger, iii. 116, ed. 1823. P. 169, 1. 5. — " The Miller and the King's Daughter." A similar ballad, entitled " The Barkshire Tragedy," and anoibei, " The Drowned Lady," will be found in Mr. Thomas Hughes's " Scouring the White Horse ;" both are combined in the one here given. P. 173,1. 15. — " Felton, John.'' Assassinated the Duke of Bucking- ham,. 1628. P. 175, 1. 14. — "Commanders that wUl pes defend" Buckingham was on the eve of departure for Rochelle to defend the Protestants, then :losely besieged by Cardinal Richelieu. P. 175, 1. 23. — " To the Duke of Buckingham" Another piece addressed to him will be found at p. 209. VOL. I. Z 338 Wit Restored. p. 179. — "A non sequitur," &•€. This piece is inserted in Mr. Gilchrist's collection of Dr. Corbet's Poems, but is not found in previous editions. P. 180, 1. I.—" On Oxford Schallers," &'c. When James I. paid a second visit to Oxford in 1 62 1, Corbet, in his office of chaplain, preached before thg King. Corbet was now Dean of Christchurch and Vicar of Carrington, near Woodstock. This poem is also found among Anthony a Wood's papers in the Ashmolean Museum. P. 183, 1. I.—" Lord High Treasurer." Probably Sir John Bankes. Obiit. 1644. P. 184, 1. 7.—" Dr. Stroad." William Strood, Canon of Christchurch, and public orator of Oxford Obiit. 1644. "An eminent poet," says Ant. a Wood. P. l86, 1. 8, — "On Christchurch windows," &'c. In 1630 the old windows of the Cathedral, which contained the history of St. Frideswide, were removed, and were replaced by new ones, the work of Abraham- Van Luige, which in time were all marked for destruction by Henry Wilkinson, whom the Parliament had appointed Visitor. The scriptural subjects of these latter, containing the Nativity, Crucifixion, Resurrec- tion, and Ascension,, are here admirably described. P, i86, 1.9. — "Magdalen College Wall." Around the walls within the cloister of Magdalen College, Oxford, are a series of hieroglyphical ■ sculptures, sacred and profane, r^ating to the import of which conjecture h had frequently busied itself. About this time a solution of the subjects was, made, and appeared in a Latin MS., entitled " CEdipus Magda- lenensis" P. igo, 1. 30. — " Lincolnes stately types." The author's own college* There is some poetic licence or irony here, since Lincoln is described inK the "Oxford Guide" as "so little attractive in its exterior." f P. 200, 1. 16. — " On the death of Hobson!' He died in the time o' the plague, 1630, in the 86th year of his age. The two last, " on tht same," are slightly altered from Milton. P. 209, 1. I. — " To the Duke of Buckingham" See p. 175 and note. P. 230. 1. 12 " Tom Coriats." Vide MusarumDelicia, p. 20 and note. P. 248, 1. 16. — " On Dr. Corbefs Marriage." He married, about 1625, Alice, the only daughter of Dr. Leonard Hutton, his fellow collegian. Mr. Gilchrist, in his memoir, quotes this poem, and remarks': " This union of wit and beauty was not looked upon with indifference, nor was their epithalamium unsung, or the string touched by an unskilful master." The offspring of this marriage were a daughter, Alice, and a son, bom Nov. loth, 1627. P. 260, 1. 23. — "jfames Atkins.'' "A Scotchman and Oxford scholar, chaplain to James, Marquis of Hamilton. He died at Edinburgh, 1687, set. 74 years." — Wood's Aihen. Oxun. Notes. 339 p. 262, 1. 22. — " Philip Massinger." The dramatic poet ; 1584-1640. P. 263, L 28 — " y. M." Sir John Mennis. P. 275, 1. 22. — '■' Standish.'' " A standing ink-hom-glass." — Bailey's Diet. P. 277, 1. 10. — " Rebato." Part of a woman's ruff, so called because put back towards the shoulders. ' ' Mong. Truth, I think your other rebato were nothing. " Much Ado about Nothing, act iii. sc. 4. P. 284, 1. 15. — " Quinborough." Queenborough, in Kent. A satire upon some display of corporate wisdom by the mayor of that town upon the occasion of a royal visit. P. 291, 1. I'j.'—" Lockrum." " Lockram, a kind of cheap linen, worn chiefly by the lower classes." — HalliwdVs Diet. P. 293, 1. 8 — "^« old song." Mr. Bell, in his "Songs from the Dramatists," gives a drinking song from " Gammer Gurton's Needle," by John Still, 1543-1607, of which the first stanza resembles this, but all the others differ. Mr. Dyce, in his edition of Skelton's Works, gives another ind earlier version of it from a MS. in his possession. Warton quotes this song as the first chanson d. boire in our language. P. 294, 1. 12. — "Beggers-Bush." A comedy by Beaumont and Fletcher. This coarse composition is omitted in Mr. Bell's Collection of Songs from the Dramatists. P. 313. 1. 5. — " The Scots arrears." When Charles found his situation hopeless, he took the fatal resolution of giving himself up to the Scotch army. The English Parliament thereupon entered into a treaty with the Scots about delivering up their prisoner upon payment of 400,000/., which was cheerfully complied vnth. — Clarendon, i . 608. P. 315, 1. 6. — " Reneaginge." Betraying, treachery. P. 317, 1. I.—" The Rebell Scot." This bitter invective is by John Cleveland, a most zealous Royalist. Aubrey informs us that he went from Oxford to Newark, where, upon drawing up certain articles for the King's followers, he would needs add this short conclusion : ' ' And we annex our lives as a label to our trust." LONDON : SAVILL, EDWARDS AND CO., PKINTERS, CHANDOS STREET, COVENT GARDEN. w :*mSi