Epigrammes.

Fly, merry Muse unto that merry towne, Where thou maist playes, revels, and triumphs see; The house of Fame, and theater of renowne, Where all good wits and spirits loue to be. Fall in betweene their hands that loue and praise thee,[1] And be to them a laughter and a jest: But as for them which scorning shall reproue thee, Disdaine their wits, and thinke thine one[2] the best: But if thou finde any so grose[3] and dull, That thinke I do to priuate taxing[4] leane, Bid him go hang, for he is but a gull, And knows not what an Epigramme does meane; Which taxeth,[5] under a peculiar name,[6] A generall vice, which merits publick blame.

Oft in my laughing rimes, I name a Gull: But this new terme will many questions breed; Therefore at first I will expresse[7] at full, Who is a true and perfect Gull indeed: A Gull is he who feares a veluet gowne, And, when a wench is braue,[8] dares not speak to her; A Gull is he which trauerseth the towne, And is for marriage known a common woer; A Gull is he which while he proudly weares, A siluer-hilted rapier by his side; Indures the lyes and knocks about the eares, Whilst in his sheath his sleeping sword doth bide: A Gull is he which weares good handsome cloaths, And stands, in Presence, stroaking up his haire, And fills up his unperfect speech with oaths, But speaks not one wise word throughout the yeare: But to define a Gull in termes precise,— Gull is he which seemes, and is not wise.[9]

Rufus the Courtier at the theater, Leaving the best and most conspicuous place, Doth either to the stage[10] himselfe transferre, Or through a grate[11] doth shew his double[12] face: For that the clamorous fry of Innes of Court, Fills up the priuate roomes of greater price: And such a place where all may haue resort, He in his singularity doth dispise. Yet doth not his particular humour shun The common stews and brothells of the towne, Though all the world in troops doe hither[13] run, Cleane and uncleane, the gentle and the clowne: Then why should Rufus in his pride abhorre, A common seate, that loues a common whore.

Quintus the dancer useth euermore, His feet in measure and in rule to moue: Yet on a time he call'd his Mistresse, 'whore' And thought[14] with that sweet word to win her loue: Oh had his tongue like to his feet beene taught It neuer would haue uttered such a thought.

Faustinus, Sextus, Cinnæ, Ponticus, With Gella, Lesbia, Thais, Rhodope, Rode all to Stanes[16] for no cause serious, But for their mirth, and for their leachery: Scarce were they setled in their lodging, when Wenches with wenches, men with men fell out: Men with their wenches, wenches with their men; Which straight dissolues[17] their ill-assembled rout.[18] But since the Deuill brought them thus together, To my discovrsing[19] thoughts it is a wonder, Why presently as soone as they came thither, The selfe same deuill did them part asunder. Doubtlesse it seemes it was a foolish deuill, That thus did[20] part them e're they did some euill.

Titas, the braue and valorous[22] young gallant, Three yeares together in this towne hath beene; Yet my Lord Chancellor's tombe[23] he hath not seene Nor the new water-worke,[24] nor the Elephant.[25] I cannot tell the cause without a smile,— He hath beene in the Counter[26] all this while.

Faustus, nor lord, nor knight, nor wise, nor old, To euery place about the towne doth ride; He rides into the fields, Playes to behold, He rides to take boat at the water side: He rides to Pauls',[27] he rides to th' Ordinary He rides unto the house of bawdery too,— Thither his horse doth him so often carry, That shortly he will quite forget to goe.

Kate being pleas'd wisht that her pleasure could Indure as long as a buffe-jerkin would: Content thee, Kate; although thy pleasure wasteth, Thy pleasure's place like a buffe-jerkin lasteth, For no buffe-jerkin hath beene oftner worne, Nor hath more scrapings or more dressings borne.

Liber doth vaunt how chastly he hath liu'd, Since he hath bin seuen yeares in towne, and more,[29] For that he sweares he hath four onely swiude;[30] A maid, a wife, a widdow, and a whore: Then, Liber, thou hast swiude all women-kinde, For a fifth sort, I know thou canst not finde.

Great captaine Mædon weares a chaine of gold, Which at fiue hundred crownes is valuèd; For that it was his grand sire's chaine of old, When great King Henry, Bulloigne conquerèd. And weare it Mædon, for it may ensue, That thou, by vertue of this[31] massie chaine, A stronger towne than Bulloigne maist subdue, If wise men's sawes be not reputed vaine; For what said Philip king of Macedon? There is no castle so well fortified, But if an asse laden with gold comes on, The guard will stoope, and gates flye open wide.

Gella, if thou dost loue thy selfe, take heed, Lest thou my rimes[32] unto thy louer read; For straight thou grin'st, and then thy louer seeth Thy canker-eaten gums and rotten teeth.

Quintus his wit[33] infused into his braine, Mislikes[34] the place, and fled into his feet; And there it wandered[35] up and downe the street, Dabled in the dirt, and soakèd in the raine: Doubtlesse his wit intends not to aspire, Which leaues his head, to travell in the mire.

The Puritan Severus oft doth read This text, that doth pronounce vain speech a sin,— "That thing defiles a man, that doth proceed, From out the mouth, not that which enters in." Hence it is,[36] that we seldome heare him sweare: And thereof as a Pharisie he vaunts; But he devours more capons in one[37] yeare, Then would suffice an hundred[38] Protestants. And sooth, those sectaries are gluttons all, As well the thred-bare cobler, as the knight; For those poore slaues which haue not wherewithall, Feed on the rich, till they devour them quite; And so, as[39] Pharoe's kine, they eate up clean, Those that be fat, yet still themselues be lean.

Leuca, in Presence once, a fart did let; Some laught a little; she refus'd[40] the place; And mad with shame, did then[41] her gloue forget, Which she return'd to fetch with bashfull grace; And when she would haue said, "I've lost my gloue,"[42] My fart (qd. she:) which did more laughter moue.

Thou canst not speake yet, Macer, for to speake, Is to distinguish sounds significant: Thou with harsh noise the ayre dost rudely breake; But what thou utterest common sence doth want,— Halfe English words, with fustian termes among Much like the burthen of a Northerne song.

"That youth," saith Faustus, "hath a lyon seene, Who from a dicing-house comes money-lesse": But when he lost his haire, where had he beene? I doubt me he had seene a Lyonesse?

Cosmus hath more discoursing in his head Then Ioue, when Pallas issued from his braine; And still he strives to be deliveréd Of all his thoughts at once, but all in vaine; For, as we see at all the play-house doores, When ended is the play, the dance, and song, A thousand townesmen, gentlemen, and whores, Porters and serving-men, together throng,— So thoughts of drinking, thriuing, wenching, warre, And borrowing money, raging,[44] in his mind; To issue all at once so forward are, As none at all can perfect passage find.

The false knave Flaccus once a bribe I gaue: The more foole I to bribe so false a knaue: But he gaue back my bribe; the more foole he, That for my folly did not cousen me.

Thou doggèd Cineas, hated like a dogge, For still thou grumblest like a masty[45] dogge, Compar'st thyself to nothing but a dogge; Thou saith[46] thou art as weary as a dogge, As angry, sicke, and hungry as a dogge, As dull and melancholly as a dogge, As lazy, sleepy,[47] idle as a dogge: But why dost thou compare thee to a dogge In that, for which all men despise a dogge? I will compare thee better to a dogge: Thou art as faire and comely as a dogge, Thou art as true and honest as a dogge, Thou art as kind and liberall as a dogge, Thou art as wise and valiant as a dogge. But Cineas, I have [often][48] heard thee tell, Thou art as like thy father as may be; 'Tis like enough; and faith I like it well; But I am glad thou art not like to me.

Geron's[49] mouldy memory corrects Old Holinshed, our famous Chronicler, With morall rules; and policy collects Out of all actions done these fourscore yeare;[50] Accounts the times of euery old[51] event, Not from Christ's birth, nor from the Prince's raigne, But from some other famous accident, Which in mens generall notice doth remaine,— The siege of Bulloigne and the Plaguy Sweat, The going to St. Quintin's and New-haven, The rising in the North, the Frost so great That cart-wheeles' prints on Thamis face were graven,[52] The fall of money, and burning of Paul's steeple; The blazing starre, and Spaniard's ouerthrow: By these events, notorious to the people, He measures times, and things forepast doth show: But most of all, he chiefly reckons by A priuate chance,—the death of his curst[53] wife; This is to him the dearest memory, And the happiest accident of all his life.

When Marcus comes from Minnes,[54] hee still doth sweare, By "come on[55] seauen," that all is lost and gone; But that's not true; for he hath lost his haire,— Onely for that he came too much at one.

The fine youth Ciprius is more tierse and neate, Then the new garden of the Old Temple is; And still the newest fashion he doth get, And with the time doth change from that to this; He weares a hat of the flat-crowne block, The treble ruffes, long cloake, and doublet French; He takes tobacco, and doth weare a lock, And wastes more time in dressing then a wench: Yet this new fangled youth, made for these times, Doth aboue all praise old George Gascoine's[57] rimes?

When Cineas comes amongst his friends in morning, He slyly spies[58] who first his cap doth moue; Him he salutes, the rest so grimly scorning, As if for euer they had lost his loue. I seeing[59] how it doth the humour fit Of this fond[60] gull to be saluted first, Catch at my cap, but moue it not a whit: Which to[61] perceiuing, he seemes for spite to burst: But Cineas, why expect you more of me, Then I of you? I am as good a man, And better too by many a quality, For vault, and dance, and fence and rime I can: You keep a whore at your own charge, men tell me, Indeed friend (Cineas) therein you excell me.

Gallas hath beene this Summer-time in Friesland, And now return'd, he speaks such warlike words, As, if I could their English understand, I feare me they would cut my throat like swords: He talkes of counter-scarfes[62] and casomates, Of parapets, of curteneys, and palizadoes; Of flankers, ravelings, gabions he prates, And of false-brayes,[63] and sallies[64] and scaladoes. But, to requite such gulling tearmes as these, With words of my profession I reply; I tell of fourching,[65] vouchers, and counterpleas, Of withermans,[66] essoynes, and Champarty. So, neither of us understanding[67] one another, We part as wise as when we came together.

Audacious painters have Nine Worthies made; But poet Decius,[68] more audacious farre, Making his mistris march with men of warre, With title of "Tenth Worthy"[69] doth her lade.[70] Me thinks that gull did use his tearmes as fit, Which tearm'd his loue "a gyant for her wit."

If Gella's beauty be examinèd, She hath a dull, dead eye, a saddle nose, And[71] ill-shap't face, with morphew ouer-spread, And rotten teeth, which she in laughing shows; Briefly, she is the filthiest wench in towne, Of all that doe the art of whoring use: But when she hath put on her sattin gowne, Her cut[72] lawne apron, and her velvet shooes, Her greene silke stockins and her petticoat Of taffaty, with golden fringe a-round, And is withall perfumed with civet hot,[73] Which doth her valiant stinking breath confound,— Yet she with these additions is no more Than a sweet, filthy, fine, ill-favoured[74] whore.

Sylla is often challenged to the field, To answer as a gentleman, his foes: But then he doth this[75] answer onely yeeld,— That he hath livings and faire lands to lose. Silla, if none but beggars valiant were, The King of Spaine would put us all in feare.

Who dares affirme that Silla dares not fight? When I dare sweare he dares adventure more Than the most braue and all-daring[76] wight,[77] That euer armes with resolution bore; He that dares[78] touch the most unwholsome whore That euer was retir'd into the Spittle[79] And dares court wenches standing at a doore, (The portion his wit being passing little); He that dares give his dearest friends offences, Which other valiant fooles doe feare to doe: And when a feaver doth confound his sences, Dare eate raw beefe, and drink strong wine thereto: He that dares take tobacco on the stage,[80] Dares man a whore at noone-day through the street: Dares dance in Paul's and in this formall age, Dares say and doe whateuer is unmeet; Whom feare of shame could neuer yet affright,— Who dares affirme that Sylla dares not fight?

Haywood, that did[82] in Epigrams excell, Is now put downe since my light Muse arose; As buckets are put downe into a well, Or as a schoole-boy putteth downe his hose.[83]

Amongst the poets Dacus numbred is, Yet could he neuer make an English rime; But some prose speeches I haue heard of his, Which haue been spoken many an hundreth time: The man that keeps the Elephant hath one, Wherein he tells the wonders of the beast: Another Bankes pronouncèd long agon,[85] When he his curtailes[86] qualities exprest: He first taught him that that keeps the monuments At Westminster, his formall tale to say; And also him which Puppets represents, And also him which with the Ape doth play: Though all his Poetry be like to this, Amongst the poets Dacus numbred is.

When Priscus, rais'd from low to high estate, Rode through the street in pompous jollity; Caius, his poore familiar friend of late, Bespake him thus: "Sir, now you know not me.' "'Tis likely friend," (quoth Priscus) "to be so, For at this time myselfe I do not know."

Brunus, which deems himselfe a faire sweet youth Is thirty nine yeares of age at least; Yet was he neuer, to confesse the truth, But a dry starveling when he was at best: This gull was sicke to shew his night-cap fine, And his wrought pillow over-spread with lawne; But hath been well since his griefe's cause hath line[87] At Trollup's by Saint Clement's Church, in pawne.

When Francus comes to sollace with his whore, He sends for rods, and strips himselfe stark naked; For his lust sleeps and will not rise before, By whipping of the wench it be awakèd. I enuie him not, but wish I had the powre To make myselfe[88] his wench but one halfe houre.

Of speaking well why doe we learne the skill, Hoping thereby honour and wealth to gaine; Sith rayling Castor doth, by speaking ill, Opinion of much wit and gold obtaine?

Septimus liues, and is like garlick seene, For though his head be white, his blade is greene: This old mad coult deserves a Martyr's praise, For he was burnèd in Queene Marie's daies.

Homer, of Moly and Nepenthe sings: Moly, the gods' most soueraigne hearb diuine, Nepenthe, Heauen's[89] drinke, most[90] gladnesse brings, Heart's griefe expells, and doth the wits refine. But this our age another world hath found, From whence an hearb of heauenly power is brought; Moly is not so soueraigne for a wound, Nor hath Nepenthe so great wonders wrought:[91] It is Tobacco, whose sweet substantiall[92] fume The hellish torment of the teeth doth ease, By drawing downe, and drying up the rheume, The mother and the nurse of each disease: It is Tobacco, which doth cold expell, And cleares the obstructions of the arteries, And surfeits, threatning death, dijesteth well, Decocting all the stomack's crudities: It is Tobacco, which hath power to clarifie The cloudy mists before dimme eyes appearing: It is Tobacco, which hath power to rarifie The thick grosse humour which doth stop the hearing; The wasting hectick, and the quartaine feuer, Which doth of Physick make a mockery; The gout it cures, and helps ill breaths for euer, Whether the cause in teeth or stomack be; And though ill breaths were by it but confounded, Yet that vile medicine it doth farre excell, Which by Sir Thomas Moore[93] hath beene propounded: For this is thought a gentleman-like smell. O, that I were one of those Mountebankes, Which praise their oyles and powders which they sell! My customers would giue me coyne with thanks; I for this ware, for sooth[94] a tale would tell: Yet would I use none of these tearmes before; I would but say, that it the Pox will cure: This were enough, without discoursing more, All our braue gallants in the towne t'allure,

Crassus his lyes,[95] are not pernicious lyes, But pleasant fictions, hurtfull unto none But to himselfe; for no man counts him wise To tell for truth that which for false is knowne. He sweares that Gaunt is three score miles about, And that the bridge at Paris on the Seyn Is of such thicknesse, length and breadth throughout, That sixe score Arches can it scarce sustaine; He sweares he saw so great a dead man's scull At Canterbury, dig'd out of the ground, That would containe of wheat three bushels full; And that in Kent are twenty yeomen found, Of which the poorest euery yeare dispends, Fiue thousand pounds: these and fiue thousand mo, So oft he hath recited to his friends, That now himselfe perswades himselfe 'tis so. But why doth Crassus tell his lyes so rife, Of Bridges, Townes, and things that haue no life? He is a Lawyer, and doth well espie, That for such lyes an Action will not lye.

Philo the Lawyer[96] and the Fortune-teller; The Schoole-master, the Midwife, and the Bawd, The conjurer, the buyer, and the seller Of painting, which with breathing will be thaw'd, Doth practise Physicke; and his credit growes, As doth the Ballad-singer's auditory,[97] Which hath at Temple-barre his standing chose, And to the vulgar sings an Ale-house story: First stands a Porter; then an Oyster-wife Doth stint her cry, and stay her steps to heare him; Then comes a Cut-purse ready with a[98] knife, And then a Countrey clyent passeth neare him; There stands the Constable, there stands the whore, And, listening[99] to the song, heed[100] not each other; There by the Serjeant stands the debitor,[101] And doth no more mistrust him then his brother: Thus Orpheus to such hearers giueth musick, And Philo to such patients giueth physick.

Fuscus is free, and hath the world at will; Yet in the course of life that he doth lead, He's like a horse which, turning round a mill, Doth always in the self-same circle tread: First, he doth rise at ten; and at eleuen He goes to Gyls,[102] where he doth eate till one; Then sees a Play till sixe, and sups at seven; And after supper, straight to bed is gone; And there till ten next day he doth remaine, And then he dines, and[103] sees a Comedy; And then he suppes, and goes to bed againe: Thus round he runs without variety, Saue that sometimes he comes not to the Play, But falls into a whore-house by the way.

The smell-feast Afer, trauailes to the Burse[104] Twice euery day, the newest[105] newes to heare; Which, when he hath no money in his purse, To rich mens tables he doth often beare: He tells how Gronigen[106] is taken in,[107] By the braue conduct of illustrious Vere,[108] And how the Spanish forces Brest would win, But that they doe victorious Norris feare. No sooner is a ship at sea surpris'd, But straight he learnes the news, and doth disclose it: No sooner hath the Turk a plot deuis'd To conquer[109] Christendom, but straight he knows it:[110] Faire written in a scrowle he hath the names Of all the widdows which the Plague hath made; And persons, times, and places still he frames, To euery tale, the better to perswade: We call him Fame, for that the wide-mouth slaue Will eate as fast as he will utter lies; For Fame is said an hundred mouths to haue, And he eates more than would fiue score suffice.

By lawfull mart, and by unlawfull stealth, Paulus in spite of enuy, fortunate, Deriues out of the Ocean so much wealth, As he may well maintaine a lord's estate; But on the land a little gulfe there is, Wherein he drowneth all the wealth of his.

Lycus, which lately[111] is to Venice gone, Shall if he doe returne, gaine three for one:[112] But ten to one, his knowledge and his wit Will not be bettered or increas'd a whit.

Publius [a] student at the Common-law, Oft leaves his Bookes, and for his recreation, To Paris-garden[113] doth himselfe withdrawe; Where he is rauisht with such delectation, As downe among[114] the beares and dogges he goes; Where, whilst he skipping cries "to head to head," His satten doublet and his veluet hose[115] Are all with spittle from aboue be-spread: When he is like his father's countrey Hall,[116] Stinking with dogges, and muted[117] all with haukes; And rightly too on him this filth doth fall, Which for such filthy sports his bookes forsakes;[118] Leaving old Ployden,[119] Dyer, Brooke alone, To see old Harry Hunkes, and Sacarson.[120]

When I this proposition had defended, "A coward cannot be an honest man," Thou Silla, seem'st forthwith to be offended, And holds the contrary, and sweares he can; But when I tell thee that he will forsake His dearest friend, in perill of his life; Thou then art chang'd, and sayst thou didst mistake, And so we end our argument and strife: Yet I think oft, and thinke I thinke aright, Thy argument argues thou wilt not fight.

Dacus with some good colour and pretence, Tearmes his love's beauty "silent eloquence:" For she doth lay more colour on her face Than ever Tully us'd his speech to grace.

Why dost thou, Marcus, in thy misery, Raile and blaspheame, and call the heauens unkind? The heauens doe owe no kindnesse unto thee, Thou hast the heauens so little in thy minde; For in thy life thou neuer usest prayer But at primero, to encounter faire.

See, yonder melancholy gentleman, Which, hood-wink'd with his hat, alone doth sit! Thinke what he thinks, and tell me if you can, What great affaires troubles his little wit. He thinks not of the warre 'twixt France and Spaine, Whether it be for Europe's good or ill, Nor whether the Empire can itselfe maintaine Against the Turkish power encroaching still; Nor what great towne in all the Netherlands, The States determine to beseige this Spring; Nor how the Scottish policy now stands, Nor what becomes of the Irish mutining. But he doth seriously bethinke him whether Of the gull'd people he be more esteem'd For his long cloake or for his great black feather, By which each gull is now a gallant deem'd; Or of a journey he deliberates, To Paris-garden,[122] Cock-pit or the Play; Or how to steale a dog he meditates, Or what he shall unto his mistriss say: Yet with these thoughts he thinks himself most fit To be of counsell with a king for wit.

Peace,[123] idle Muse, haue done! for it is time, Since lousie Ponticus enuies my fame, And sweares the better sort are much to blame To make me so well knowne for my[124] ill rime: Yet Bankes his horse,[125] is better knowne then he. So are the Cammels and the westerne hogge,[126] And so is Lepidus his printed Dog:[127] Why doth not Ponticus their fames enuie? Besides, this Muse of mine, and the blacke feather Grew both together fresh[128] in estimation: And both growne stale, were cast away together: What fame is this that scarce lasts[129] out a fashion? Onely this last in credit doth remaine, That from henceforth, each bastard cast-forth rime, Which doth but savour of a libell vaine, Shall call me father, and be thought my crime; So dull, and with so little sence endu'd, Is my grose-headed Judge, the multitude.