Louinge Coussen
To say I am sorrie for thy sicknes, is so tryuiall a complement
that it is a questione now a dayes, whether it will gaine credite
any wheare: let this suffize The same god that cast thee
vpon thy bed of sicknes, can rayse thee vp againe, w ch as a
Freind I wish and pray for; sicknes is as necessarie as our
meate and drinke how euer we accoumpt of it: it leades
vs to the knowledge of God and of our selues, the wisedome
of a Christian: it letts vs knowe, what weake flowres we
are that the least and smallest winde of gods rodd shakes
of our blossomes and turnes our beuty into palenes yet
sicknes to a dutyfull child is but as the gentle chydinges
of a louinge father; tis for our good and we should loue god
for it: and so I doupt not but thou doest and wilt: but I am too
serious and mirth may be as vnseasonable. yet in hope it may be
a meanes to cheare thee vp (the scope of my intent) one little touch
of that too.
Now all my hopes are dasht; the Virgin's bowre
is neere vpon dissoluinge, why doe you lowre
As if I toucht youre coppyhold in this
you are not of that sisterhood Iwiss.
I would you were, then I should still haue hope
to be bell ringer, and to pull a rope
In that chast bowre I meane the Nunnierie
that hath so oft been talkt of; but I see
There is no hopes of that Nun Moll is wedd
is werryd w th the single life she ledd
I cannot thinke Nun Nan will stay longe after
Nunnes must lie hard; and marriage bed, is softer
As for my wife if ere she proue a Nun
or dye a virgin, all my hopes are donne
My mother Bess she couppled longe agone
and now hath gott a father for her sonne
But what am I the better: I am sure
I loose by what I gett: and must endure
My losses and my crosses; tis in vayne
to hope for such a time of hope, againe
Povre frier John may now goe shake his eares
And drinke his muses helth in brynie teares
Like to a Hermite sequestred from men
ile study woes to dictate to my pen
for all haue left me, but my cares and feares
least some vnwellcome newes should reach my eares
On cordes I make my bed; no help for that
vngentle fate alowes me not a Matt
Yett I rub out; and now I thinke ont fleas
makes me rubb oftner then is for my ease
But therby hanges a tale, I pry thee Cuss
Chide Matt for me, or giue the girle a buss
I knowe she loues thee, though she scould w th me
Husbands must suffer: but methinkes I see
Thou growst a weary of my prattlinge Muse
I can not blame thee; I my self accuse
my self of follie yet twas my intent
to cheare not harme thee w th my merriment
I ask thy pardon if I doe amiss
if not thou shalt not want such stuff as this
if thou canst read his hand that will euer be
Thy truly louinge freind and Coussen
John Chalkhill or S r Hobson.
ask my Lady else
dated the verry same
day my wife went to
London beeinge Wensday
any day of March my Allminack
an [ sic ] I cannot agree vppont
I haue writt to my wife because
I dare doe no other
To say I am sorrie for thy sicknes, is so tryuiall a complement
that it is a questione now a dayes, whether it will gaine credite
any wheare: let this suffize The same god that cast thee
vpon thy bed of sicknes, can rayse thee vp againe, w ch as a
Freind I wish and pray for; sicknes is as necessarie as our
meate and drinke how euer we accoumpt of it: it leades
vs to the knowledge of God and of our selues, the wisedome
of a Christian: it letts vs knowe, what weake flowres we
are that the least and smallest winde of gods rodd shakes
of our blossomes and turnes our beuty into palenes yet
sicknes to a dutyfull child is but as the gentle chydinges
of a louinge father; tis for our good and we should loue god
for it: and so I doupt not but thou doest and wilt: but I am too
serious and mirth may be as vnseasonable. yet in hope it may be
a meanes to cheare thee vp (the scope of my intent) one little touch
of that too.
Now all my hopes are dasht; the Virgin's bowre
is neere vpon dissoluinge, why doe you lowre
As if I toucht youre coppyhold in this
you are not of that sisterhood Iwiss.
I would you were, then I should still haue hope
to be bell ringer, and to pull a rope
In that chast bowre I meane the Nunnierie
that hath so oft been talkt of; but I see
There is no hopes of that Nun Moll is wedd
is werryd w th the single life she ledd
I cannot thinke Nun Nan will stay longe after
Nunnes must lie hard; and marriage bed, is softer
As for my wife if ere she proue a Nun
or dye a virgin, all my hopes are donne
My mother Bess she couppled longe agone
and now hath gott a father for her sonne
But what am I the better: I am sure
I loose by what I gett: and must endure
My losses and my crosses; tis in vayne
to hope for such a time of hope, againe
Povre frier John may now goe shake his eares
And drinke his muses helth in brynie teares
Like to a Hermite sequestred from men
ile study woes to dictate to my pen
for all haue left me, but my cares and feares
least some vnwellcome newes should reach my eares
On cordes I make my bed; no help for that
vngentle fate alowes me not a Matt
Yett I rub out; and now I thinke ont fleas
makes me rubb oftner then is for my ease
But therby hanges a tale, I pry thee Cuss
Chide Matt for me, or giue the girle a buss
I knowe she loues thee, though she scould w th me
Husbands must suffer: but methinkes I see
Thou growst a weary of my prattlinge Muse
I can not blame thee; I my self accuse
my self of follie yet twas my intent
to cheare not harme thee w th my merriment
I ask thy pardon if I doe amiss
if not thou shalt not want such stuff as this
if thou canst read his hand that will euer be
Thy truly louinge freind and Coussen
John Chalkhill or S r Hobson.
ask my Lady else
dated the verry same
day my wife went to
London beeinge Wensday
any day of March my Allminack
an [ sic ] I cannot agree vppont
I haue writt to my wife because
I dare doe no other