Be quiet wit, leaue beating of my braine
To do the worke of playing but on crimes:
To Scourge the Follyes of the world is vaine,
If thy whips lines be nought but rotten rymes.
There also occurs an address from.
The Booke to Grauitie.
Sterne Grauity auert thy face from me;
Or looke not saddly on me: for, I am
Too light, somewhere, for eyes too sad to see;
And yet such lightnesse shews but vice her shame:
But to reproue vice viciously, is more
Amisse, I feare, the salu's worse than the sore:
Yet grace itselfe can hardly wit perswade
That it is sin to call a spade a spade.
Against the nobly descended Muscus, who wedded a Butcher's fat daughter
The well-borne Muscus wedded hath of late
A Butcher's daughter fat, for pounds & plate:
Which match is like a pudding, sith in that
He puts the bloud, her father all the fat.
Of Maurus his Orpheus like melody.
Maurus, last morne, at is mistris window plaid
An Hunts-vp on his lute: but she, (it's said)
Threw stones at him: so he, like Orpheus, there,
Made stones come flying his sweet notes to heare.
Of the deernesse of Phisitions.
Like haukes phisitions euer are esteem'd,
Which as they kill thrush, partridge, duck, or crane
Are priz'd thereafter: so, is euer deem'd
Phisition's skill by those they kill, or bane
If but poore clownes or tradesmen they destroy,
Th' are held of small accompt: if lords, or earles,
Then more, much more: but if they skill employ
To kill a prince, th' are held as deere as pearles:
Then all phisitions, that would faine be deere,
Employ their skill, at least, to kill a peere.
Of the Carpet-Knights Sir Sim Soust Gurnerd, his Quarter-braules.
Sir Sim Soust-Gurnerd, loues notes fresh & sweet
And bath an organ chamber'd next the street,
Whereon he playes of purpose as appeares,
To haue all passers by him by the eares;
Yet sweetly braules in tune with stroakes of art,
But dares not strike a Discord for his heart.
The rightest Seruingmen are the rightest Courtiers.
Courtiers may seruingmen be stil'd: what then?
Then cannot they serue God for seruing men.
To my learnedly witty friend, Mr. Beniamin Iohnson.
Thy sconse, that guards thy wits as it they guard,
Large round, & sound, yet no whit can be spar'd:
For thy Wit's throng: that plenty makes thee scarce,
Which makes thee slow, as sure in prose or verse,
As say thy worst detractors; then, if thou
For all eternity, writ'st sure and slowe,
Thy Wits, as they come thronging out of dore,
Do sticke awhile, to spread their praise the more.
To my deare Mother, the citty of Hereford.
Thou gan'st me breath, and I will giue thee fame
By writing in a double kind: thy name
I borrow'd once to add to mine: and yet
I hold to it still; for which the debt
Is clearest fame; Ile pay thee at long running
Else shall my band and head forget their cunning.
Epitaph upon a noted common lyer, Iack ap Iack
Here lies lack ap Iack: and wot yee why?
A liue he still lyde; and dead still must lye:
Who, in his life, lyde willingly still,
But here in death, lies against his will.
The Author's Epitaph.
Long after all was made, I made, was marr'd
By error of my parents ere I err'd:
For to the world I came through their offence
Which made me sinfull in mine innocence
I lou'd the Muses, and sought by them
Long life in this life's shadow of a dreame;
But, I am gon; and my remaines (I gesse)
Are but the laboures of my idlenesse,
Which, liuing, die: so all thereby I got
Is Fame, (perhaps) which (past perhaps) is not:
At least is not to me, sith dead I am:
And haue no sence of aire, Fame's surer name:
I lou'd faire writing; and could write as faire
As any that for that had got that aire,
I taught it others, but my greatest fee
Was fairest fame; the fowler shame for mee
In men's accompt, who hold all gettings vaine,
That tend to grace and glory more than gaine
My heart was manly in a double sence,
Kind to my friends, and apt to giue offence
To my offenders: so heart, hand and head,
Had precious guifts, that did me little stead
I found the world as Abel found it, sith
It harm'd me most that medl'd least therewith.
I found my flesh my houshold foe while I
The diuell found my forraigne enemy:
So inwardly and outwardly I found
My life still millitant, till in this ground
I lay intrench'd: where safe I lie from fight
Equal to Caesar in our present plight:
If oddes there be: herein it now doth rest,
I, being a Christian man, must needs be best:
My soule is in his hand that made me so:
His glories subiect still, in weale, or woe.
In the notes to Extracts from Wittes Pilgrimage the same volume, Brydges gives the following: —
To my worthy appraued deere friend Mr. Jackson, Manciple of All Soules Colledge, in Oxford.
Thou art a townseman, yet the countrey mend'st,
And glad'st it with what there thou getst & spend'st;
For two months, in a time of pestilence,
There freely cheer'd, I saw thy great expence:
While thou in Oxford plagu'd, wast then expos'd
To death: thy family and mine dispos'd
In safety there, where wee, besides, were fed
While thou for vs did'st liue among the dead.
To my worthy ingenuus, and ingenius pupill, Mr. Thomas Bond
Vnder my hand I bad you once; and now
Y'are fallen vnder but my pen, my plow:
Wherewith your name I culture thus, you bee
A Bond that binds, because you are so free.
Against Gaulus, the writing country schulemaster.
Gaulus, thou writ'st thy selfe my scholer , and
Thou sai'st thou dost it scholers so to get:
But for thine owne, thou still dost shew my hand,
So thou deal'st plain, thou can'st not counterfet.
Of Julia's Bookishness
Julia is bookish; and doth study still
To fashion nature's favours to her will.
Her mirrour is her book , her time to pass,
And so she euer studies on her glass
The following may recall to mind the link-boy's repartee to Pope the poet: —
Of a crook-back, that desired an upright judge to right his wrong.
A crook-back prayed a judge to right his wrong;
Whereto the judge reply'd — " I would I could
But oh! you have been wrong your selfe so long,
That now I cannot right you, though I would."
Of Wolfgangus' his great nose and thin beard.
I muse Wolfgangus beard so thinly grows:
Yet 'tis no marvel, having such a nose!
For being huge, it yields such shade and breath,
That nought can prosper growing underneath.
To the following he has little claim, as it will be found in a less contracted form among the poems of uncertain authors, annexed to Lord Surrey's; and it is cited by Mr. Warton as the earliest printed English epigram that he remembered. (Hist Eng Poetry iii. 55): —
Fast and Loose
Paphus was married all in hast,
And now to wracke doth runne
So, knitting of himselfe too fast ,
He hath himselfe undone :
Of one that lost a great Stomach.
Mare swears he hath lost his stomach; then, if one
That's poor hath found it, he is quite undone.
These are selected as some of the least exception able epigramatic points, from between three and four hundred.
On Deare-Stealing.
Some Colts, (wild youngsters) that ne'er broken were
Hold it a doughty deed to steal a deere:
If cleanly they come off, they feast anon:
And say their pray is good fat venison;
If otherwise, by them it doth appeare,
That that which they have stollen, then is deare.
In skills that all do seek, but few do find
Both gain and game; (like Sun and Moon, do shine)
Then th' Art of Fishing thus is of that kind:
The Angler taketh both with hook and line,
And as with lines, both these he takes; this takes,
With many a line well made, both ears and hearts;
And by this skill, the skilless skilful makes:
The corps whereof dissected so he parts:
Upon an humble subject never lay
More proud, yet plainer lines, the plain to lead,
This plainer Art with pleasure to survey,
To purchase it with profit by that deed:
Who think this skill's too low, then for the high
This Angler read and they'll be ta'en thereby.
To do the worke of playing but on crimes:
To Scourge the Follyes of the world is vaine,
If thy whips lines be nought but rotten rymes.
There also occurs an address from.
The Booke to Grauitie.
Sterne Grauity auert thy face from me;
Or looke not saddly on me: for, I am
Too light, somewhere, for eyes too sad to see;
And yet such lightnesse shews but vice her shame:
But to reproue vice viciously, is more
Amisse, I feare, the salu's worse than the sore:
Yet grace itselfe can hardly wit perswade
That it is sin to call a spade a spade.
Against the nobly descended Muscus, who wedded a Butcher's fat daughter
The well-borne Muscus wedded hath of late
A Butcher's daughter fat, for pounds & plate:
Which match is like a pudding, sith in that
He puts the bloud, her father all the fat.
Of Maurus his Orpheus like melody.
Maurus, last morne, at is mistris window plaid
An Hunts-vp on his lute: but she, (it's said)
Threw stones at him: so he, like Orpheus, there,
Made stones come flying his sweet notes to heare.
Of the deernesse of Phisitions.
Like haukes phisitions euer are esteem'd,
Which as they kill thrush, partridge, duck, or crane
Are priz'd thereafter: so, is euer deem'd
Phisition's skill by those they kill, or bane
If but poore clownes or tradesmen they destroy,
Th' are held of small accompt: if lords, or earles,
Then more, much more: but if they skill employ
To kill a prince, th' are held as deere as pearles:
Then all phisitions, that would faine be deere,
Employ their skill, at least, to kill a peere.
Of the Carpet-Knights Sir Sim Soust Gurnerd, his Quarter-braules.
Sir Sim Soust-Gurnerd, loues notes fresh & sweet
And bath an organ chamber'd next the street,
Whereon he playes of purpose as appeares,
To haue all passers by him by the eares;
Yet sweetly braules in tune with stroakes of art,
But dares not strike a Discord for his heart.
The rightest Seruingmen are the rightest Courtiers.
Courtiers may seruingmen be stil'd: what then?
Then cannot they serue God for seruing men.
To my learnedly witty friend, Mr. Beniamin Iohnson.
Thy sconse, that guards thy wits as it they guard,
Large round, & sound, yet no whit can be spar'd:
For thy Wit's throng: that plenty makes thee scarce,
Which makes thee slow, as sure in prose or verse,
As say thy worst detractors; then, if thou
For all eternity, writ'st sure and slowe,
Thy Wits, as they come thronging out of dore,
Do sticke awhile, to spread their praise the more.
To my deare Mother, the citty of Hereford.
Thou gan'st me breath, and I will giue thee fame
By writing in a double kind: thy name
I borrow'd once to add to mine: and yet
I hold to it still; for which the debt
Is clearest fame; Ile pay thee at long running
Else shall my band and head forget their cunning.
Epitaph upon a noted common lyer, Iack ap Iack
Here lies lack ap Iack: and wot yee why?
A liue he still lyde; and dead still must lye:
Who, in his life, lyde willingly still,
But here in death, lies against his will.
The Author's Epitaph.
Long after all was made, I made, was marr'd
By error of my parents ere I err'd:
For to the world I came through their offence
Which made me sinfull in mine innocence
I lou'd the Muses, and sought by them
Long life in this life's shadow of a dreame;
But, I am gon; and my remaines (I gesse)
Are but the laboures of my idlenesse,
Which, liuing, die: so all thereby I got
Is Fame, (perhaps) which (past perhaps) is not:
At least is not to me, sith dead I am:
And haue no sence of aire, Fame's surer name:
I lou'd faire writing; and could write as faire
As any that for that had got that aire,
I taught it others, but my greatest fee
Was fairest fame; the fowler shame for mee
In men's accompt, who hold all gettings vaine,
That tend to grace and glory more than gaine
My heart was manly in a double sence,
Kind to my friends, and apt to giue offence
To my offenders: so heart, hand and head,
Had precious guifts, that did me little stead
I found the world as Abel found it, sith
It harm'd me most that medl'd least therewith.
I found my flesh my houshold foe while I
The diuell found my forraigne enemy:
So inwardly and outwardly I found
My life still millitant, till in this ground
I lay intrench'd: where safe I lie from fight
Equal to Caesar in our present plight:
If oddes there be: herein it now doth rest,
I, being a Christian man, must needs be best:
My soule is in his hand that made me so:
His glories subiect still, in weale, or woe.
In the notes to Extracts from Wittes Pilgrimage the same volume, Brydges gives the following: —
To my worthy appraued deere friend Mr. Jackson, Manciple of All Soules Colledge, in Oxford.
Thou art a townseman, yet the countrey mend'st,
And glad'st it with what there thou getst & spend'st;
For two months, in a time of pestilence,
There freely cheer'd, I saw thy great expence:
While thou in Oxford plagu'd, wast then expos'd
To death: thy family and mine dispos'd
In safety there, where wee, besides, were fed
While thou for vs did'st liue among the dead.
To my worthy ingenuus, and ingenius pupill, Mr. Thomas Bond
Vnder my hand I bad you once; and now
Y'are fallen vnder but my pen, my plow:
Wherewith your name I culture thus, you bee
A Bond that binds, because you are so free.
Against Gaulus, the writing country schulemaster.
Gaulus, thou writ'st thy selfe my scholer , and
Thou sai'st thou dost it scholers so to get:
But for thine owne, thou still dost shew my hand,
So thou deal'st plain, thou can'st not counterfet.
Of Julia's Bookishness
Julia is bookish; and doth study still
To fashion nature's favours to her will.
Her mirrour is her book , her time to pass,
And so she euer studies on her glass
The following may recall to mind the link-boy's repartee to Pope the poet: —
Of a crook-back, that desired an upright judge to right his wrong.
A crook-back prayed a judge to right his wrong;
Whereto the judge reply'd — " I would I could
But oh! you have been wrong your selfe so long,
That now I cannot right you, though I would."
Of Wolfgangus' his great nose and thin beard.
I muse Wolfgangus beard so thinly grows:
Yet 'tis no marvel, having such a nose!
For being huge, it yields such shade and breath,
That nought can prosper growing underneath.
To the following he has little claim, as it will be found in a less contracted form among the poems of uncertain authors, annexed to Lord Surrey's; and it is cited by Mr. Warton as the earliest printed English epigram that he remembered. (Hist Eng Poetry iii. 55): —
Fast and Loose
Paphus was married all in hast,
And now to wracke doth runne
So, knitting of himselfe too fast ,
He hath himselfe undone :
Of one that lost a great Stomach.
Mare swears he hath lost his stomach; then, if one
That's poor hath found it, he is quite undone.
These are selected as some of the least exception able epigramatic points, from between three and four hundred.
On Deare-Stealing.
Some Colts, (wild youngsters) that ne'er broken were
Hold it a doughty deed to steal a deere:
If cleanly they come off, they feast anon:
And say their pray is good fat venison;
If otherwise, by them it doth appeare,
That that which they have stollen, then is deare.
In skills that all do seek, but few do find
Both gain and game; (like Sun and Moon, do shine)
Then th' Art of Fishing thus is of that kind:
The Angler taketh both with hook and line,
And as with lines, both these he takes; this takes,
With many a line well made, both ears and hearts;
And by this skill, the skilless skilful makes:
The corps whereof dissected so he parts:
Upon an humble subject never lay
More proud, yet plainer lines, the plain to lead,
This plainer Art with pleasure to survey,
To purchase it with profit by that deed:
Who think this skill's too low, then for the high
This Angler read and they'll be ta'en thereby.