Follie's Anatomie. OR SATYRES AND Satyricall Epigrams.

With a compendious History of Ixion's Wheele.

Compiled by Henry Hutton, Dunelmensis.

LONDON Printed for Mathew Walbanke, and are to be sold at his shop at Graies-Inne Gate. 1619.

TO THE READER, Vpon the Author, his Kins-man.

OLd Homer, in his time made a great feast,
And euery Poet was thereat a guest:
All had their welcome; yet not all one fare.
To them aboue the salt (his chiefest care)
He spewd abanquet of choise Poesie,
Whereon they fed euen to satietie.
The lower end, had from that end their Cates.
For, Homer setting open his dung-gates,
Deliuered, from that dresser, excrement,
Whereon they glutted, and returnd in Print.
Let no man wonder that I this rehearse;
Nought came from Homer but it turnd to verse.
[Page]Now where our Author was at this good cheere,
Where was his place, or whether he were there:
Whether he waited, or he tooke away;
Of this same point I cannot soothly say:
But thus I ghesse. Being then a dandiprat,
Some witty Poet tooke him in his lap
And fed him from aboue, with some choice bit.
Hence his Acumen, and aready wit:
But prayses from a friendly pen ill thriue.
And truth's scarce truth, spoke by a relatiue.
Let enuy therefore giue her vote herein:
Enuy and th' Author sure are nought a-kin.
Ile personate had Enuy: yet say so,
He lickt at Homers mouth, not from below.
R. H.

Ad Lectores.

TO stād on Terms twere vain. By hook & crook
One Terme I was defrauded of a Booke.
Now Readers your assistance I must craue,
To play at Noddy; to turne vp a knaue.
My foe at Tick-Tack playes exceeding well:
For Bearing (Sirs) beleeue't, he bears the Bell.
He's of a blood-hounds kinde, because his Nose
Vtters each new made sent; be't verse, or prose.
Could ye attache this Felon, in's disgrace
I would not bate an inch (not Boltons ace)
To baite, deride, nay ride this silly Asse,
I would take paines; he should not scot-free passe.
All filching knaues (be't spoken as a Trope)
Will once be plaide, displayed by a Rope:
[Page]And be this proud disperser of stole workes
Once caught (that now in clanks & corners lurks)
Lest he delude some kinde affecting Scholler,
Pray, haue him twiched in a Hempen Coller:
Once burntieh' hand, he will example giue,
To such Times turne-coats as by filching liue.

TO THE WORTHILY Honor'd Knight, Sir Timothy Hutton.

NOblest of mindes, vnknowne, I would inuite▪
Rich Pyrrhus to accept a Codrus mite.
My lame-legd Muse, nere clome Pernassus Mount▪
Nor drunke the iuice of Aganippe's Fount:
Yet doth aspire with Dedall's wings, appeale
To you, sole Patron of our common weale.
The foule maskt Lady, night, which blots the skie,
Hath but one Phoebe, feuer-shaking eye.
Olympus azure clime, one golden light,
Which drownes the starry curtaine of the night:
And my rude Muse (which Satyrists would rend▪
One generous, graue Patronizing friend.
[Page]You this Maecenas are, peruse my writ,
And vse these Metroes of true meaning wit:
Command; commend them not: such humile Art
Disclaimes applause, demerits no desert.
Value my verse according to her worth:
No mercenary hope hath brought her forth.
Times puny, Penny-wits, I loathing hate.
Though poore, Im'e pure, from such aseruile state.
These workes (fram'don the Anuile of my braine)
My free borne Muse, enfranchise from such shame:
In which large Calender, Timists may view,
I onely writ to please the World, and you.
Your worships friend Nomine & Re: Henry Hutton.


IVrge no time, with whipt, stript Satyrs Lines,
With furies scourge whipping depraued times.
My muse (tho fraught) with such shall not begin
T'vncase, vnlace, the centinell of sin:
Yet let earths vassailes, pack-horse vnto shame,
Know I could lash their lewdnesse, euill fame;
Reade them a Lecture, should their vice imprint
With sable lines, in the obdured flint;
Their Mappes of knauery and shame descry,
In liuely colours, with a sanguine die;
And tell a tale, should touch them to the quick;
Shold make them startle; fain thēselues cap-sick;
But, that no Patron dare, or will maintaine
The awfull subiect of a Satyre's vaine.
WHat haue we here? a mirror of this age,
Acting a Comicks part vpon the stage.
What Gallant's this? His nature doth vnfold
Him, to be framed in Phantastes mold.
Lo how he iets; how sterne he shewes his face,
Whiles from the wall he passengers doth chase.
[Page]Muse touch not this man, nor his life display,
Ne with sharpe censure gainst his vice inuey:
For, sith his humor can no iesting brooke,
He will much lesse endure a Satyre's booke.
Beshrew me, sirs, I durst not stretch the streete,
Gaze thus on conduits scrowls, base vintners beat▪
Salute a Mad-dame with a french cringe grace,
Greete with God-dam-me, a confronting face,
Court a rich widow, or my bonnet vaile,
Conuerse with Bankrupt Mercers in the Gaile,
Nor in a Metro shew my Cupide's fire,
Being a french-poxt Ladies apple-squire;
Lest taxing times (such folly being spide)
With austere Satyres should my vice deride.
Nere breath, I durst not vse my Mistrisse Fan,
Or walke attended with a Hackney-man,
Dine with Duke Humfrey in decayed Paules,
Confound the streetes with Chaos of old braules,
Dancing attendance on the Black-friers stage,
Call for a stoole with a commanding rage,
Nor in the night time ope my Ladies latch,
Lest I were snared by th' all-seeing Watch:
Which Critick knaues, with Lynxes pearcing eye▪
Into mens acts obseruantly do prye.
MVse, shew the rigour of a Satyres art,
In harsh Sarcasmes, dissonant and smart.
[Page]First, to you masse of humors, puffe of winde,
Which, Polipe-like, doth enterchange his mind.
Note how this Timist, scratching of his pate,
Inuents a fable to aduance his state,
Venting a Legend of Man, Diuells lies,
VVhich in the eares of potentates must flie.
See how he squares it▪ takes a priuate stand,
To Gnathonize, to act it with his hand.
Behold his gesture, and his brazen face,
How stoutely he doth manage his disgrace.
Lo how he whispers in his Masters eare,
In's Closet tattles lest the seruants heare;
Winkes of an eye, and laughs his Lord to scorne,
By his attractiue fingers making hornes.
His swimming braine, thus being brought to bed▪
As motiues to his wit, he rabs his head:
Then like a ledger at the Tables end,
Takes place for an inui [...]ed friend;
Applauding in discourse his Masters speech,
Admiring's vertu, ore the pot doth preach:
Inueies 'gainst ding-thrifts, that their l [...]nds haue spent
Detesting Ryot more then thin cheekt Lent:
Censures base whoredome, with a Mustard face.
VVith a sowre pis-pot visage, doth disgrace
A Ruffled Boote, and will in no case stand,
In view of a (sir reuerence) yellow band.
He rayles on Musick, pride, and wines excesse,
And from an Organ-pipe himselfe doth blesse▪
[Page]Abhorres a Sattin suit, or veluet cloake,
And sayes Tobaccho is the Diuells smoake;
The thought of To▪ his intrailes more doth gripe,
Then Physicks art, or a strong Glister-pipe.
Go tell this slaue, his vices shall not passe,
Such craftie colts, must feele the Satyres lash.
The Lyons skinne a while may shade the Ape:
But yet his worship shall not scot-free scape.
Though he seeme nice, demeane himself demure,
The world perceiues, this Sycophants impure.
His Harpies face, dissembling Syrens voyce,
VVhich in each corner make a whistling noyce,
Cannot be sconced with each male pretence,
Nor blind the world with som misconstru'd sens [...]
We know his thoght concurs not with his word▪
His mouth speaks peace, his hart intends a sword▪
None can discerne whence Titan fram'd this mol [...]
VVhich, Gnato like, doth blowe both hot & cold▪
O subtle Tyrant, whose corroding hate,
Depriues both life, and consummates the state
Of senselesse Noddies, who repose in rest,
Foster hot embers, Serpents in their brest,
Which sparkling flames, t' accomplish vain desire▪
Makes fooles, their subiects, fuell to the fire;
And like the Viper, fraught with spleenefull maw▪
The Intralls of their Patrons states doe gnaw.
NExt, lets suruey the Letchers obscoene shame,
Rouze him from's squat, pursuing of the game,
Depriue this wel mouth'd dog of his intēt,
Tracing each footestep, by his fresh made sent,
And pinch him with a scandald soule, impure,
Note him with Theta, for ay to endure.
Wil't please you view this monster in his glasse?
It best discouers a Phantastick Asse.
See how, Narcissus like, the foole doth doate,
Viewing his picture, and his guarded coate;
And with what grace, bold actor like he speakes,
Hauing his beard precisely cut ith' peake;
How neat's Mouchatoes do a distance stand,
Lest they disturbe his lips, or saffron band:
How expert he's; with what attentiue care,
Doth he in method place each stragling haire.
This idle Idoll, doth bestow his wit,
In being spruce; in making's ruffe to sit:
His daies endeauours are to be compleate,
To vse his vestures nitid and facete:
For vulgar oathes, he raps forth blood and heart,
As coadiutors in the wenching art:
In's frizled Periwig, with bended brow,
Sweares at each word: for, to confirm his vow,
He holds an oath's the ornamentall grace
Of veniall discourse, befitting's place;
And doth maintaine, in's humor, To be drunk,
Is the preparatiue to loue a punke;
[Page]A pipe of To. th' indulgence of his brains,
Vsing Potatoes to preserue the Raines.
Pale horned Luna, sister to darke Night,
In Venus sport he vseth for a light;
Thinking Earth's sable mantle hides his shame,
Depriues the terror of swift winged Fame.
VVhen darknesse doth eclipse Don Phoebus raies▪
VVhen nights vast terror hath expelld the daies▪
Then doth this subiect pase it to Pickt-hatch,
Shore-ditch, or Turneball, in despite oth' Watch▪
And there reposing on his Mistrisse lap,
Beg some fond fauour, be 't a golden cap:
Plaies with her plume of feathers or her Fan,
VVishing he were accepted for her man;
And then at large in ample tearmes doth showe
His Cupids dart, and much endured woe,
Desiring cure to salue his languisht care,
T' expell the willow-garland of despaire:
And that he may obtaine his lust, compares
Her eyes to starres, to Amber her pounc't hayres:
Equalls her hand to Cignets purest white,
VVhich in Maeanders streames do take delight:
Her sanguine blush, and ruby painted mold,
Vnto Aurora's red, rich Indies gold.
Hauing earth's weaker vassaile ouercome,
He bribes a Pandar with some trifling sum;
Doth frolike with the Musick in this vaine,
Hearing the Diapason of their straine.
[Page]Perhaps hee'l cut a caper, neately prance,
And with his Curtail some odde Galliard dance;
Then glutted with his lust make quick dispatch,
Pretending hee's in danger of the Watch:
So taking Vale, till some other night,
Must be conducted by a Tapers light,
Along the streete to his polluted Cell,
Where this vile letcher doth inhabit, dwell.
He thinkes the secret quietnesse of night,
Which with phantasmes doth possesse each sprite,
Is a safe shelter to conceale his fact,
Hauing no witnesse to record his act.
O stupid foole! the Heauens al-seeing eye,
Beholds thy base frequented infamy;
And will repay thee treble, with a pox,
For the night-hanting of base Shoreditch smocks
ALl haile Tom Tospot: welcome to the Coast.
What Paris news canst brag of, or make bost?
Thy phisnomie bewraies thou canst relate
Some strange exploits attempted in the State.
I know th'hast courted Venus lusting dames,
'Twas thy intēt whē thou tookst ship on Thames.
Let's sympathize thy hap, enioy some sport.
What art thou sencelesse, dead-drunk, alla mort?
Gallants, this abiect obiect which you see,
Is an old picture of Gentilitie.
[Page]With Coriat he trauell'd hath by land,
To see Christs crosse, the tree where Iudas hangd.
Diuelin and Amsterdam his sea crab pase,
With other countries moe, did often trace.
Earth's circled orbe, he frequent trudged, went,
With lesse expences then Tom Odcombe spent:
With fewer cloaths, thogh furnisht with mo shifts▪
With sparing diet, fewe receiued gifts.
Tom had one payre of stockins, shooes, one suite;
But Tospots case Tom Coxcombs doth confute.
For he has trauell'd all Earths globe a-foote,
Without whole cloathes, good stockin, shooe or boote.
His ragged iournall, I bemone, condole;
Yet (God be thankt) he is return'd all-hole.
Tom had assistants, as his bookes report:
But Tospot trauell'd voide of all consort;
Hauing no creature with him whiles he slept,
Or walkt; but such as in his bosome crept.
Tospot detests all cloaths, hates new found forme,
Vnlesse it were no cloaths at all were worne.
Which Method (I dare say) he would obserue,
Goe naked with his com-ragges, beg, and sterue.
He is no boasting Thraso which will vant
Of his aduentures, penurie, and scant.
Yet if you please to reade my slender Muse,
I shall describe the humor he doth vse.
Tobaccho, Bottle ale, hot Pippin-pies:
Such traffique, merchandize, he daily buies.
[Page]With belly-timber, he doth cram his gut,
With double iugges doth his Orexis glut,
Sweares a God-dam-me for the tapsters shottes,
And may pledge no health lesse then with 2. pots.
He has a Sword to pawne in time of neede,
A perfect beggers phrase wherewith to pleade
For maintenance, when his exhausted store
Is profuse lauisht on some pockie whore.
Tibornes triangle trees will be the thing,
Must send this knaue to Heauens in a string.
MOunsier Brauado, are you come t'out face,
With your Mouchatoes, gallants of such place▪
Pack hence, it is an humor to contend,
[...]n a brauado, with your neerest friend.
Wee'l not contest or squabble for a wall,
Nor yet point field, though you vs vassailes call.
Inuent some other subiect to employ
Your gilded blade, your nimble footed boy.
Correct your frizled locks, and in your glasse
Behold the picture of a foolish Asse.
Barter your lowsie sutes for present gaine,
Vnto a Broker in rich Birchin lane.
Compile a sonnet of your Mistrisse gloue.
Copy some Odes t'expresse conceited loue.
Ride with your sweet-heart in a hackney coach.
Pick quarrells for her sake, set fraies on broach.
[Page]Vse Musicks harmony (which yeelds delight)
Vnder your Ladies window in the night.
Stretch with a plume, & cloak wrapt vnder th'ar▪
Yong Gallants glories soone will Ladies charm [...]
S'foot walke the streets, in cringing vse your wit [...]
Suruey your Loue, which in her window sits.
Black-Friers, or the Palace-garden Beare,
Are subiects fittest to content your eare.
An amorous discourse, a Poets wit,
Doth humor best your melancholy fit.
The Globe to morrow acts a pleasant play,
In hearing it consume the irkesome day.
Goe take a pipe of To. the crowded stage
Must needs be graced with you and your page.
Sweare for a place with each controlling foole,
And send your hackney seruant for a stoole.
Or if your Mistrisse frowne, seeme maleconte [...]
Then let your Muse be cloistred vp, ypent.
Be loue sicke, and harsh Madrigalls expresse,
That she may visit you in such distresse.
I'me sure you haue some pamphlet, idle toy,
Which you rate high, esteeme a matchlesse ioy.
Where's your Tobacco box, your steele & touch▪
Roarers respect, and value these too much.
Where is your larum watch your Turkies Rin▪
Muske-comfits, bracelets, & such idle things?
Y'are nak't as Adam if you haue not these,
And your endeauours cannot Ladies please.
[Page]If you the Gallants title will assume,
Goe vse th'Apothecarie for perfume,
Weare eare-rings, iewels, cordiuants strong sent,
Which comely ornaments dame Nature lent.
Fy, fy: you are to blame, which times misspend,
That for a trifling cost will lose a friend.
Do not contend in each frequented Lane,
With euere idle coxcombe, busie braine:
But your Mineruaes industry employ,
Your Ladies golden tresses to enioy.
Record your name in some rich Mercers note,
That tradesmen may come pull you by the coate.
And in th'abysse of Vintners chalked score,
Shipwrack good fortune, run thy state on shoare.
Diue in Mechanicks books, till in the streete
Seargeants arrest, conuey thee to the Fleete,
And there in durance cag'd, consume with woe,
Beg with a purse, and sing Fortune's my foe.
WRite, Poetaster: fy for shame, your dayes
Wil dy without remembrancers of praise.
[...]Tis pitty, such a pregnant witty verse
Should be intombed in the fatall herse.
[...]onfine your Muse some tractates to compile,
[...]n scanned Metre, or condigner stile;
That Earth's milde censure may applauding blaze
[...]our Phoenix quill, with volleys of great prayse.
[Page]Why art so slowe? the Trophies will bee lost,
Vnlesse you wright, all Fortunes shall be crost.
What canst thy stile prohibit? gazing mute,
Where Earth's contending for the golden fruite▪
You vilifie your selfe with endlesse shame,
Imposing scandall to each Poets name.
I grieue he should be silent, in despite
Of all the Muses, which Sarcasmies write.
He doth resemble Minstrells in each thing;
Inuited once, hee 'l neyther play, nor sing;
Vnbidden, will inuey against each friend,
Incessant write great volumes without end.
The amorist which doth your wardrobe keepe,
Admires your sluggish Muse is yet asleepe.
He should a riming Madrigall compose;
And wanting you, must tell his griefs in prose.
The wenches they exclayme, cry out, and call
For Poetasters workes extemporall.
The alehouse tippler, he protests, your Muse
Greatly dishonours him, with grosse abuse,
Infringing promise: which you lately made,
Concerning Libells, that should touch the trad [...]
He gaue you earnest after you were wooed,
A dozen of strong liquor he bestowed,
To bathe your Muse, to make your fluent vai
Apt to despise a Satyres taxing braine.
The idle Minstrell, he cries out of wrong,
Because you doe his sonnets still prolong.
[Page]You iniure much his treble squeaking note,
Depriues him of the townships armes, red coate.
Such wrongs may not passe free: inuent a theam,
Rouze vp your Muse from her conceited dreame.
Giue him a cup of Ale, a pipe of To:
And let him to his priuate study go.
Hee'l breake a iest, when he has drunke a glasse,
Which shal for currant mongst the tapsters passe,
And rime to any word you can propound,
Although a Metre for it, nere were found,
Wright Panegyricks in the praise of's friend,
Make compleat verses, on his fingers end.
He has a subiect he did late inuent,
Will shame the riming sculler, Iack a Lent.
'Tis writ in print; perhaps you'l see't anon,
'Twas made of Robin Hood and little Iohn.
'Twil be discouerd er 't be long; and ly
Vnder the bottome of a pippin-py,
Be pind to Capons backs to shroude the heate,
Fixt to some solid ioynt of Table meate.
Wish it be put to no worse seruice, then
To shelter the scorcht Caponet or Hen.
I pray 't may haue such office, worthy place,
Yet feares 'tmust suffer vile rebuke, disgrace.
Iack out of office wee 't ere long shall finde
' [...]th house of office, being mew'd, confinde.
Well though it be, yet for the Muses sakes,
Hee'l pen a pithie tractate of A-iax.
[Page]I wish he would reserue A-iax in minde,
Twill serue but for A-iax and come behinde:
For men adiudge the volumes of this foole,
Worthie no chayre, scarce to deserue the stoole.
Let cease the clamor of thy hotchpot verse,
The stupid pots, or sencelesse streetes to pearce.
The doggrell discord of thy long legd rime,
Defameth Poets, scandalize the time.
Your mock-verse Muse deserueth nought but fire▪
The beggers whipstock, or the Gallowes hire.
In silence spend the reliques of your dayes:
For being mute you will attaine most prayse.
Auoide each Satyres lash, censures of times,
Which doe deriding read pot-Poets rimes.
THe crane-throate hell, of this depraued age,
Earths belly-god, let's view vpon the stage.
See how the squadron of his full fraught panch
Out-squares the straightnes of his narrow hanch▪
Making his stumppes supporters to vpholde
This masse of guttes, this putrefied molde.
His belly is a Cesterne of receit,
A grand confounder of demulcing meate.
A Sabariticke Sea, a depthlesse Gulfe,
A sencelesse Vulture, a corroding Wolfe.
Behold this Helluo, how he doth glut,
Fill (like a wallet) his immeasurde gut,
[Page]Cramming his stomack with vncessant loade,
Like a stuft bladder, hates bigge swelling Toade;
And rammes his panch, that bottomlesse abysse,
As if to glut were legall, promis'd blisse.
All's fish that comes to net, this Harpy's tooth
Eates what's within the compasse of his mouth.
His table-talke hates hunger, more then vice,
Railes against fortune, cheating, cards, and dice,
Enuies'gainst actors, taxing such as fight,
Or in Tobacco doe repose delight,
And thousand subiects mo exactly scannes,
Rayling on cloakebagge breeches, yellow bands;
Wishing the fencing-schooles might be supprest,
And all saue belly-timber doth detest.
This large discourse his gluttony doth cloake,
Are motiues his Orexis to prouoke.
Which being fraught, till sences are a mort,
At noone tide to concoct he takes a snort.
His drowsie sences hudwinkt in a cap,
Leaning vpon his chaire do take a nap.
Conferre his belly with his lower part,
And you'l adiudge dame Natures rarest art
Made not this bulke, infusing life, or blood,
In such vnsquared timber, vnheawn wood.
He's more mishapen then Crete's monstrous sin,
Deformed both without, and eke within.
His circled panch, is barrell like rotound,
Like earths vast concaues hollow, and profound.
[Page]His hanches which are lockt as in some box,
With the straight compasse of a Par a-dox,
He doth into so little compasse bring,
As if they should be drawne through Gyges ring,
So that he seemes as if black Vulcans art,
Of diuerse fossiles had compil'd each part;
As if some taylor had bound on with points,
Nero's great belly, to staru'd Midas ioynts.
I could discipher this huge map of shame,
And liuely pourtrait his abhorred name,
Wer't not that Criticks would debase, reuile,
Censure the sharpenesse of a Satyres stile.
'Tis shame, such vipers, all deuouring Hell,
Should be indured in our Coasts to dwell.
We can frame nothing of such naughtie Earth,
Except a storehouse in the time of dearth;
Or beg this Minotaure, when he doth die,
T' make dice of's bones or an Anatomie.
Ile therefore leaue him in his pan-warm'd bed,
Resting on's pilllow his distempr'd head.
Wer't not for censures, I should make him pranc [...]
Skip at the Satyr's lash, leade him a dance,
Vnrip his bowels, and Anatomize
His filthy intrailes, which he doth much prize.
But taxing times such proiects doe confute,
Silence sterne Satyres, warnes them to be mute.
The golden dayes are chang'd, when Foxes sins
Passe scot free, marching in the Lyons skins;
[Page]Whē corrupt times may complot wrong, or right
Without controule, of contradicting might.
MY treatise next must touch (thogh somwhat late)
A woman creature most insatiate.
See this incarnate monster of her sex,
Play the virago, vnashamde, perplext.
See Omphale her effeminated king,
Basely captiue; make him doe any thing.
Her whole discourse is of Guy Warwicks armes,
Of errant Knights, or of blinde Cupids charmes.
Her ciuill gesture, is to faigne a lie
In decent phrase, in true Ortographie.
Her modest blush, immodest shame, O fy,
'Tis grand disgrace to blush, indignity.
She counts him hut a Nazard, halfe a-mort,
That will not iumble, vse dame Venus sport.
To kisse, to [...]ll, t'admire her painted face
And doe no more; ignoble, vile disgrace.
She likes his humor which plaies for the marke,
Affects the man that's expert in the darke.
With costly vnguents she depaints her browes,
Calls them the palace of chast Hymens vowes.
And yet this statue for her honor'd trade,
With eu'ry vassaile will be vnderlaide.
Her sole delight is fixed in a fan,
Or to walke vsherd by a proper man.
[Page]Nature hath polisht each externall part
Of this vile dame with Oratories Art;
Making each limb an Oratour, defence,
To maske her scandall with some good pretence.
Doe but conferre and note her priuate speech,
Her diuine frame, will passe your humane reach.
Shee'l complement, pathetically act
A tragick story, or a fatall fact.
Liuely discouer Cupid and his bowe,
Manage his sauage quiuer in her brow,
Court so compleately, rarely tune a song,
That she will seeme a Dido for a tongue,
And by the vertue of all-conquering sight,
Infuse euen life in him, that has no sprite.
Her golden phrase will rauish so your eares
With amorous discourse, pale louers teares,
That you would iudge her rarest parts diuine,
Deeme her a virgin of chast Vest [...]es shrine.
Yet this proud Iezabell, so nice, demure,
Is but a painted Sepulchre impure.
Shee seemes a Saint (in conference being hard)
Yet is more spotted then the Leopard.
Though she bestow her vigilancie, care,
In coyning phrases, pouncing of her hayre:
Yet are her Legends, golden masse of wit,
But like Apocrypha, no sacred writ.
All's not authenticall the which she pleades,
Or wholsome doctrine, that she daily reades.
[Page]Cease, austere Muse, this counterfeit to touch:
Y'haue spoke Satyricall, I doubt, too much.
Ile rather pitty, then enuy, inuay,
Their Kalender of wretch'nesse to display,
Shutting my Muse in silence, least she strip
This Saint-like creature with a Satyres whip.
I blush, my quill with so immodest face
Abruptly pointed at her great disgrace,
Loathing the subiect of a Satyres stile,
Discernes desert, which should this sect defile.
Pardon my Muse (kinde sirs) she whips not all
Whom we in specie do women call.
'Tis Corinths Lais, Romes confronting whore,
Which like the Hellespont we run on shore;
Such as resemble Dian in their deedes,
I meane in giuing large Actaeons heads.
These are the Subiects which demerit blame,
And such we tax with earths eternall shame.
Applauding such chast Philomels, whose loue,
Idem, per idem, doth most constant proue.
SHould I commend you Satyres? faith no, tu [...]
'Tis an old Prouerbe, Good wine needes no bush.
If ye demerit earth's condigner laude,
Let grauer censures grace you with applaude.
If ye deserue no Poets Lawrell stem,
Be ye base Orphans, I disclaime ye then.
To praise good works 'twere shame, indigne, and vile,
For none but counterfeits do prayse their stile.
Good, is but good; and no man can more say:
To praise the bad, makes Satyrists inuay.
Goe seeke your fortunes, be it good or bad
If bad, I'le greiue; if good, I shall be glad.
Henry Hutton.

To the Reader.

HEark, ye yong Roysters, that with Inkehorn stuffe
Delude the state, and rayle the world in snuffe:
Let me, in Court'sie, beg a friendly Q,
When you haue spent your mouths vpon the view.
Chop logick, chaw your cuds; some leisure giue.
My Muse, which doth at rack and manger liue,
Must halt about the marke; for she's not flight:
And yet, though slowe, she sometims speaks aright.
I f [...]are no colours: Let mad Satyres write.
The Curres which barke the most, do seldome bite.
Let coxcombs curry fauour with a fee,
Extoll their braines, with Claw me, I'l claw thee.
I write the truth: If any fault you see,
Impute it to ill readings, not to me.
Dispence with my bold quill: if she be fell,
I doe it for the best: I wish all well.
Conniue yong wits (which on your humors stand)
I'l, with the Prouerbe, Turne the Cat it h'band.
And ere ye iarre, for Peace sake giue the way;
Sith few, or none, with edg'd tooles safely play.


Ad Lectorem.

Epi. 1.
REader, I must present you a Shrimp-fish:
I hope you'l make no bones to tast this dish.
It is no Carpe, vnlesse you giv 't that note:
VVhich if you doe, I wish 'twere in your Throate.

Ad Momum.

Epi. 2.
MOmus, I wish your loue, and humbly crav 't:
My suite is for the same; pray let me hav 't.
If that you think, according be not best,
A Cording be your end: and so I rest.

Maltsters ill Measure.

Epi. 3.
SVch Maltsters, as ill measure sell for gaine,
Are not mere knaues, but also knaues in Grain.

De Equisone.

Epi. 4.
CAn Equiso be wauering as the winde?
Faith no; for he is of a Stable kinde.

In Caluum.

Epi. 5.
THe Commonty complaine, Caluus of late,
By hook, & crook, by pouling gaineth state:
Yet he protests, he takes few bribed gifts,
And powling scornes aboue all other shifts;
Appealing to his barber, who doth sweare,
He is not worth one hayre to reach one eare.
Then, sith you tax him with this faultlesse ill,
He'l leaue off-powling, and begin to pill.
Epi. 6.
KInde Kit disdaines that men him fool do call.
What is he else? Faith, nothing but Wit-all.

An action of the Case.

Epi. 7.
SHouldring a Minstrell, in a Lane, I broke
His Violls case, by an vnlucky stroke:
Who swore he would cōplain, to vent his grudg.
And what care I, what any law will iudge:
For why? I will maintaine it, face to face,
'T can be no more, but th' action of the Case.
Epi. 9.
TOm-Cobbler sold his tools, a matter small:
And yet vnto this day he keepeth Awl.
Epi. 10.
RObin has for Tobaccho sold his chaire,
Reseruing nothing but a stoole for's lare:
Whence all men iudge, this silly sottish foole,
Though seldome sick, goes often to the Stoole.

God a-mercy Horse.

Epi. 11.
A Friend, who by his horse receiu'd a fall,
Made bold (he swore) in priuate for to call.
I made him welcome, as dame Nature bindes
All those to doe that beare affecting mindes.
Yet sith his steede did him vnwilling force,
I thank not him, but God a-mercy Horse.
Epi. 12.
FRancisco vants he gaue his wife the horn.
She frouns, she frets, & takes the news in scorn.
And thogh you did (quoth she) yet you, indeed,
Must weare the horne, because you are the Head.

De Caluo.

Epi. 13.
CAluus protests, for foes he doth not care:
For why? they cānot take from him one hair.

In Purum.

Epi. 14.
PVrus doth sermons write, & scripture quote;
And therfore may be tearm'd a man of Note.

In Causidicum.

Epi. 15.
CAusidicus wears patched cloathes, some bruit;
And must doe so: for he has nere a suite.

De fabro lignario.

Epi. 16.
TOm Ioyner sold his tooles, and cloaths of's britch,
To cure the scab; and yet he has an Itch.
Epi. 17.
A Cuckold is a dangerous beast. Why so?
Nam Cornu ferit ille: Caueto.

De Vinoso.

Epi. 18.
VInosus is a Verbe, his persons good,
And must be form'd in the Potentiall mood:
In which sole mood, we find each drunken man.
For, commonly, they're known by the sign, Can.
Epi. 19.
WOmen by nature doe a Nazzard spight,
Because he's a light-horseman & wants weight.
Epi. 20.
IAck-Cut-purse is, & hath been patient long.
For, he's content to pocket vp much Wrong.
Epi. 21.
TOm vow'd to beat his boy against the wall:
And as he strook, he forthwith caught a fall.
The Boy, deriding, said I will auerre,
Y' haue done a thing, you cannot stand to, sir.
Epi. 22.
IN an outlandish Port, where there were store
Of bloudy Pyrats taken on the shore,
The Magistrate did build (of squared stone)
A payre of Gallowes, for to hang them on.
And being askt, why they so strong were made,
Replied; that woodden Gallowes soone decaid,
They would not last one age; but now his care,
Had built strong Gallowes for himselfe, and's heire

De Balliu [...].

Epi. 23.
HOw dare ye with a Baliue squabble, broile.
Disturbe the streetes with vproares, endlesse coil?
Though he be poore, yet offer no disgrace:
Baliues are men of-Calling in their place.
Epi. 24.
BEll, though thou die decrepit, lame, forlorne,
Thou wast a man of Metall, I'l be sworne.

Crooktbacks payment.

Epi. 25.
CRookt-back, to pay old scores, wil sell his state:
And though he do, he'l neuer make all strait.

In Gallam.

Epi. 26.
GAlla, 'tis said of late, is brought to bed:
And yet in Hymens rites she nere was wed.
Which makes the vulgar iudge, & censure on her,
That she betimes begun to take vpon her.

Tims wound.

Epi. 27.
AT quarter blowes, Tim did of late receiue
A bruise vpō his head, that doth him grieue:
VVhich, hauing issue, makes friends tax his deed,
And iesting say; Tim has a running head.
Epi. 28.
PHantastes chaf't t' expresse his raging wit,
Because his stockins did not neately sit;
And strictly askt his man, what as he thought
Concerning's stockin he had lately bought
VVho said, I think though 't seeme too straight by half,
Twod fit; but that you are too great ith' Calfe.

De Conspicilio.

Epi. 29.
AN aged man, which spectacles did vse,
Hauing them filcht, begun one time to muse,
Fearing the thiefe would not his sights restore;
But rather plot how to deceiue him more.
Feare not said one, the matter is but Light;
And ten to one, but they will come to Sight.

De Chirotheca.

Epi. 31.
A Friend protested he was strangely crost,
Because (forsooth) his wedding gloues were lost
But on your gloues, I said, sir do not stand;
I warrant you, ere long they 'l come to Hand.

Trim's Care.

Epi. 32.
NEat Barber, Trim, I must commend thy care,
Which doest all things exactly, to a Hayre.
Epi. 33.
TOm Chamberlayne doth from his guests conuey▪
The fired logs which they accompt for pay:
Now Tom may sweare, and therein be no lyer,
That all he has, is gotten out oth' fire.

Idle words.

Epi. 34.
OF Idle-words, no capitall delict,
One was arraigned; by the lawes conuict;
Adiudg'd to lose his eares: which he denide;
Complotting to escape, But one replide,
The Pillory t' escape spend not your wit:
When all is done, you must giue-Eare to it.

De Thaide.

Epi. 36.
THais, her Vrine to a Doctour bore:
Who askt her, if she were a maide. She swore
[...]Twas so. My wench (quoth he) thou art beguild;
My Art descries that thou hast had a childe:
What kind of maide art then? She blushing said,
[...]nd't like your worship, sir, a Chamber-maide.

In Lesbiam.

Epi. 38.
THe sanguine dy of Lesbia's painted face,
Is often argued for a doubtfull Case.
[...]he color's hers, she swears: not so some thought it.
[...]nd true she swears: for I know where she bought it.

De Gallo.

Epi. 39.
KInde Cock is not a cock oth' kind, I feare.
His hen wud bring forth chickins, if he were:
[...]et she hath none. Then surely, gentle reader,
He is no Cock; onely a Capon-treader.

De Cornuto.

Epi. 40.
COrnutus did receiue a hurt on's thigh:
Of which, I am perswaded, he 'l not die.
The wound's not mortall thogh it inward ble [...]
Because the Signe rules most in Cornute's head.
Epi. 41.
VVOmen are Saints: yet was not she a sp [...]
That almost slew her husband with [...]

The Case is altred.

Epi. 42.
TOm Case (some do report) was lately halte [...]
If this be true, why then the Case is alter [...]

Ad Caecum.

Epi. 43.
CAecus, I pray respect your honest name,
Auoide the scandall of succeeding shame.
Y' haue an ill eye, so some do often chat:
'Mongst other faults, pray haue an Ey to that

In Superbum.

Epi. 44.
SVperbus swaggers with a Ring in's eare;
And likewise, as the custome is, doth weare
About his neck a Ribbin and a Ring:
VVhich makes men think, that he's proud of a string.

Tospots reckonings.

Epi. 45.
TOspot is chosen steward of the house,
To sum their commons; as eld seruants vse.
I thinke he 'l reckonings more compleatly cast,
Then any steward that this place has past.
For certaine, after drinkings, or a feast,
He casts-vp Recknings once a weeke at least.
Epi. 46.
WIll squabled in a Tauern very sore,
Because one brought a Gill of wine; no more.
Fill me a quart (quoth he) I'me called Will:
The prouerbe is, Each Iack will haue his-Gill.

Tom's Valour.

Epi. 47.
ONe hundreth grosse of points Tom tooke in pay,
Of bankrupt Mercers which were in decay,
Whence som report, that knew his fearful ioints,
That Tom's grown stout, & stands vpō his Points.
Epi. 48.
GVido doth rage, because one iesting said,
That he of late had got a goodly head.
VVhat man dare giue me hornes (quoth) he for' [...] life▪
No Man, said one: if any, 't is your wife.
VVhiles men you tax, the halfe man you exclude▪
And she, the whole man doth with horns delud▪

De Milone.

Epi. 49.
MIlo doth vant he's strong, and yet contend▪
To take the wall of open foes, and frend▪
Then sure he's weake, which will in discord fall▪
For it; sith none but weakest go to th' wall.


Epi. 50.
A Proctour was t' examine in the Court
A wench. And he, disposed to make sport,
Did aske the maid, what he should call her name.
Why, maid (quoth she) or else it were great shame.
Pray, speake aduised, quoth this gibing clearke;
You must take Oath of it, and therefore marke.
The wench, selfe-guilty, to him blushing said,
Pray stile me single woman, leaue out maid.

To his inconstant mistrisse.

Epi. 51.
FAine would I prayse, yet dare not write my minde,
Lest thou sholdst vary like th' vncertain wind.
Ep. 52.
A Felon, iudg'd to dy for filching ware,
At his confessing did himselfe compare,
In Metaphors, vnto the world; wherein
Contayned is the Sentinell of sin.
The hang-man, hearing this, whē they had praid,
Began to scoffe, and thus deriding said;
I may attempt what I desire, were 't Land:
For why? I haue the world now in a Band.

De Crepidario.

Epi. 53.
SHoo-makers are the men (without all doubt)
Be't good or bad, that set all things on foot.

De Vitriario.

Epi. 54.
A Glazier which endeauours to reape gaines,
Endureth toyle, is troubled much with Panes.
Epi. 55.
MIller, such Artists as thy pulses feeles,
Affirme, thy gadding head doth runne on wheeles.
Epi. 56.
FAt-back, you are too blame which friends wil crosse.
Go too: you shew your selfe a knaue in grosse.
Epi. 57.
TAylors worke much, beleeue't, & take great paine:
Yet, Masons worke far harder i'l maintain.
Epi. 58.
DOth Iane demerit well? I pray, why so?
For her good carriage, which all men know.
Epi. 59.
PRay, pardon Praeco's compotations:
His head is full of Proclamations.

In Gulam.

Epi. 60.
BAse Gula, with his teeth, & nailes doth teare
The commons which he eateth any where:
Now, we may say, What Gula doth assayle,
He will accomplish it with Tooth-and-Naile.


WHat Satyres write, or Cabalists do iudge,
I weigh but small; sith they beare all men grudg.
What Momists censure, or the roring sect;
Be what it will, tis but their dialect:
And such applause, like to their thred-bare coate,
Would but pollute me with some euill note.
I doe referre my Muse, vnto such eyes,
Which truely can their iudgements equalize▪
Such, will be meanes, to saue her from the fire▪
And if neede stand, to draw Dun out ith' mire.
H. H. D.


FOrtune empaling Ioue with honors crowne,
Making him victor in the Titans fight:
Mars hauing trod perforce proud Saturne down,
Depriuing Titan of's vsurped right:
These cosupremes, which ouer-rule the fate,
Enthronize him in Saturn's regall state.
Which gratefull God, in honor of his name,
To Mars did dedicate the crownes of Bay;
And in Olympus did a feast ordayne,
To solemnize the glory of this day.
Each sacred Deity, had free accesse
To be partaker of such happinesse.
Hermes did trudge, a iolly foote-mans pase,
T' inuite the Rectors of the Spheres sublime.
He nimbly trips the sun-Gods circled race,
Commands each power, of the Olympick clime,
To celebrate this festiuall, in lieu
Of all the triumphs, which to Mars were due.
Which thankefull Guests, their ioynt consents all
To gratulate their kinde affecting Host;
And, of the store which they in promptu haue gaue,
(As a requitall of his profuse cost)
Do, plena manu, regall bounties send,
Whiles to exceede in giuing they contend.
Pan did the first fruites of his fold present.
Neptune sent Quailes; and Bacchus foming vines.
Ceres did immolate, with like intent,
Autumn's rich Prime, and Terra's golden mines.
No God there was but sent, for loue or feare,
Condigne presents to augment their cheere.
At length, in vestures nitid, and faccte,
To Ioues high court, Heauens Synod did repaire:
Whose braines were busied how to be compleat
To place themselues in method, formall, square,
Whiles maior powers, affect new forged shapes,
The minors aemulate like. Aesops Apes.
Warres austere God, with stout Achilles Lance,
And wrinkled browes, doth Thrasouize it, rage:
Cornuted Phoebe, in her coach, doth prance:
Bacchus, with Grapes, doth stretch it on the stage,
Whiles this cup-saint, too lauish and profuse,
Embrew's his Temples in their liquid iuice.
Apollo, Venus, Cupid God of loue,
And chast Aurora Goddesse of the Morne,
With all the remnant of the powers aboue,
In royall vestures did their corps adorne.
Thus they contend (if eminent in place)
T' exceede in gesture, vesture, decent grace.
Vulcan except, who from his Anuile hies,
Lymping vnto the Trough, to scoure his face,
And col [...]y fists; then, with his apron dries
The same, thinking them fit for such a place:
He, hating pride, vaine-glory, did not striue,
Or acmulate, to be superlatiue.
The Smith of Lemnos, malecontent, did grudge
That Dis should loyter for his shackling chaines:
Yet, being iealous, he's constrain'd to trudge,
Lest, whiles he toyle, some other reape the gains.
Curling his locks, he therefore, halfe a mort,
Doth halting vsher Venus to the Court.
Swift winged Hermes, did Ixion cite,
The last, to dance attendance at this feast:
Who, swolne with pride of his puissance, might,
Sate with the Gods as a coequal guest:
And though vnworthy to assume such place,
Yet did his thoughts aspire for greater grace.
Earths Mortall, with Immortalls being plac't,
Tooke Dedall, flight; with Icarus would climbe;
With Phaeton the deities disgrac't,
Deposing him, for his vndecent crime.
Princes, in pride, attempt those vaine designes,
VVhich often times their vmpires vndermines.
While mighty Ioue, with Orpheus sweetest hymns,
Aptly concording to Arions Lute,
With boauls of Nectar, crowned to the brims,
His noble guests doth gratulate, salute,
This lusting king endeauours in despite
To wrong his Host, to casheer Hymen's right.
Bacchus moyst vapours, which doe sursum fume,
Ixions braine so much intoxicate,
That in his cup he did (too rash) presume
T' attempt the act: which he repents too late.
So potent are Don Bacchus nociue charmes,
That they intrude into apparent harmes.
Rapt with Queene Iunoes loue, whiles he did fix
So princely obiect in an abiect eye,
His ioyes with sorrowes he doth intermix:
For, sanctum sinnes doe often soare too hie.
VVhich grand default, few Amorists can finde;
Because the naked God of loue is blinde.
He languisht long, abhorring to reueale,
T' expresse his dolours in externall shew:
Yet they, more vrgent whiles he would conceale,
Like Hydra's heads, did pullulate, renew.
For, shrowded embers, which cannot aspire,
Assuming force, become the greatest fire.
With chast Adonis blush, at length in art
He did vncase those griefs which were represt,
And did the tenor of his cares impart:
For words yeeld solace to distempred brests,
Asswage the deluge of eternall woe,
Which (Sea-like) alternatim, ebbe and flowe.
The prime allurement, which Ixion vs'd
To rob this Matron of her prizelesse fame,
Were Mamons gifts; which women seld refuse,
Although in obloquie they drowne their name.
For Fates decreed, each [...]mans weaker power
Should not resist faire Danae's golden showre.
His crowne of Thessalie, with Tagus sand,
And mineralls of Ganges golden shore,
He gratis did preferre into her hand,
Wishing such Oratours might loue implore.
T' enioy base lust he would his life condemne,
Hazard his state, and princely Diadem.
The modest queen (which waxed red with same)
Like one that's planet-strooke, remayned mute:
Collecting strength (t' auoid succeeding fame)
She did repell his base, immodest sute:
Yet, more importunate, though she despise,
He non-plust once, againe will rethorize.
Lady (quoth he) behold my harmelesse heart,
Which doth, captiu'd, in Sibyls durance liue.
Like to Achilles Lance, my endlesse smart
You must recure, which did the anguish giue:
Or I, poore Tymon, must my date expire,
Whiles Furies torture me in Cupid's fire.
Sometimes, in the Abysse of Loue I freeze,
Like frigid places of the Artick clime:
Againe, excessiue heate those stormes appease,
Scorching like Phoebus in her fiery prime
Thus I, whom Titan fram'd of [...]ritt [...]e mold,
Both at one instant, burn, and am key-cold.
My passiue humors, and distemperd thoughts,
Do stimulate proud Silla [...]s lre: debates
Vaine-hopes, which hote desires doe bring to nought,
Fiercely pursues with Theoninus hates;
Waging such warre within my soule diuine,
That Troian fraies, were plays, cōpar'd with mine.
No Artists skill, nor deity aboue,
Can mee restore to my desired blisse.
The Energia sole is fixt in loue,
Which may recure my cares remedilesse.
At Loue I ayme; yet haue no crosser foe:
Whose peruerse wrath, my state would ouerthrow
Thus doth he Syllogize, halfe malecontent,
With fallacies sophisticating teares;
And thus discourse, vnkindnesse to preuent,
Whilst sighs vnrip his melancholy feares:
Yet vaine the king pursues a bootelesse chase,
His Deere doth tappasse in a priuate place.
Whiles he acutely argu'd this hard text,
VVith writs of errour trauers [...]ng his sute;
Ioues constant Daphne, timorous, perplext,
His f [...]call arguments doth still confute:
Yet forward loue, which in extreames will erre,
Vniting force, doth wage a second warre.
Now by authentick reasons he doth pleade,
Vrging examples to confirm his case;
Corroborating his vndecent deede,
With Corinth's strumpets, which their sex debase▪
A subtle shist to curry-fauour's truce:
For, old examples women most seduce.
The Nymphs, to Vesta consecrated pure,
VVhich did (quoth he) their youthfull daies con­fine,
Like Ancors in a Caue, to liue secure,
Only deuoted to the vestall Shrine:
These trode their shooes awry, & did transgresse,
Reputing it a frailty of the flesh.
The Sun-god Phoebus, subiect, bow'd to loue;
Though he were crowned with a willow-with.
Faire Cytherea had (as records proue)
A leash of loues, beside black Lemnos smith.
And Vulcan spi'd false carding. What of it?
He was adiudg'd but Iealous, wanting wit.
Sole Monarch of the sky, whom Cupid's charms,
[...]nd fatall Quiuer, did incite to lust,
[...] louely Arethusa's azure armes
[...]id oft repose; although it were vniust.
Latmus can witnesse, and Parnassus Plaine,
She plaid the wanton with a shepheards-swaine.
Examine Hermes, if he lou'd, or no,
VVhiles he with Herse priuate did conferre,
Hee'l not disclaime his wenching acts, I trowe,
[...]r that with Venus he did wilfull erre.
Thus lou'd the churlish starres. Then why shold I
[...]oore Saturnist, a distract louer die.
[...]or wert thou chast, great Ioue: the wedlock band
[...]n Hebe's, and Alemena's armes thou broke:
[...]indar's proud bride thou vsed at command;
Captiu'd Calisto in a lustfull yoke;
And with these Paramours hast led thy life,
Wronging the pleasures of a iealous wife.
What if great Iupiter, with Lynx his eyes,
Should censure, that chast Hera were too kinde
With Hermes spells, I would coniure his spies,
Till I enioy'd the solace of my minde.
Admit, you should disclose in outward shew
Apparent loue, it were but quid pro quo.
Suppose, that Earth impanneld a grand Quest,
And that the Barre of Law should rack this act:
It would be thought a Quaere at the best;
Sith affi-dauit of our conceal'd fact
Could not be made; whiles of each Gods know sham [...]
A sempiternall probate shall remaine.
Hee vrg'd the Queene too farre: yet she excus' [...]
Fearing malignant times the fame would broach
And doth obiect, that beautie's oft abus'd,
Oft scandaliz'd with vulgar tongues reproach.
For, slander set on foote, though false, will run,
And currant passe, in eu'ry Momists tongue.
Beautie's a common marke, apt to offence
(Quoth she) when roysters roue, or Court vnwi [...]
Bad fame will blab, & forge some lewd pretence
Be amours nere so secret, or precise:
No fond suspect her iealous eare can scape,
For, she will colour't in a liuely shape.
Should I, vpon such tearmes, ere condiscend,
I double, treble, should mine honour staine.
What essence then my error durst defend,
If true accusers should my vice arraigne?
In vaine it were to fly from Argus watch,
If in the net, Ioue, Mars with Venus catch.
The vnchast king, now silent, all a mort,
Abruptly interrupts her subtile speech;
And, vi & armis, must enioy his sport,
Moue her perforce to cuckoldry, spouse-breach.
He begd before; but now commands his lust:
And she consents, lest Ioue their talke mistrust.
Who whilest they, pro & contra, argued thus,
Suspected misdemeanor in his Guest;
Yet did conceale, because he sate non plus,
Drowning despaire in his disquiet brest.
Ioue feared guile (Mendozas well can gloze)
And therefore vrged Iuno to disclose.
Who, putting finger in the eye, declares
This large discourse; which Ioue vnkindely takes
The lust seem'd vile, such impudence was rare:
Which to defraude, he of a cloude did make
Chast Iunoes like; a formall shape inuents,
Which, graphice, her stature represent.
Apollo's wagon, hauing left his sphere,
Drawing the st [...]rry curtaine of the night,
This false Idea did in state appeare,
To pay lusts king his long desir'd delight:
Whom he embrac't (yet was deceiud God wot)
And of a cloude the massy Centaures got.
Obtained lust his brest could not containe:
In [...]hrasoe's tearmes he vants this act obscene,
Falsely accusing Hera in disdaine,
Making lusts Queane, corriuall with the Queene.
Such are mens faults; they cannot onely horne,
But must divulge, & laugh the wrongd to scorne.
The Irefull God, which was supposed, wrong,
To weare a cuckolds badge, an armed head,
All court affaires adiourneth, doth prolong,
And coram nobis, scans this shamefull deede.
Lest by delay truth should be staind, forgot,
He wisely strikes now whilst the Iron's hot;
And of high treason doth the king indite
(For faults are great which touch a mighty foe)
VVho by a quest of Quaere which iudge right
(Too strictly sentenc't to eternall woe)
Was, by that Synod in Olympus held,
Condemn'd, contemn'd, and from his Throne ex­peld.
To pleade, or to recant, it was too late:
Th' arraigned king condemned stands, conuict;
Whom the three lusticers of Limbos state,
With new deuised penalties inflict.
Hell's fatall iudgement, is a iust reward,
For such as Hymenaeus rites discard.
Fixt to the rigour of a tumbling wheele,
Which Furies moue, and euer restlesse turnes,
This type of lust, hells terrour amply feeles,
Whiles Serpents sting, and Hecats furnace burnes.
Thus, by iust doome, to Styx his soule did di [...]
Being enrold amongst the damned fiue.
Great mirth did Dis, and Preserpina keepe,
To giue a welcome to this leane-chapt Ghost.
The triple-headed Cur awoke from sleepe.
Caron, in hast, his flaming Ferry crost;
Who with the Furies, which then leasure found▪
Salutes this guest, and hopt a merry round.
Tantal had lap enough: each ayry sprite,
And starued Ghost, had plenty of good-cheere.
Alecto skipt, with Bacchus being light,
And plaid the diuell, voide of loue or feare;
Whiles grim Megaera tore th' inuectiue scroles,
Chasing the fiends with euer-burning coles.
A greater racket was not kept in Hell,
When Hecat got the Diuells leaue to play.
So far this Chaos doth the wont excell,
That former tortures are a ciuill day.
Stones, tubs, & wheeles, do tumble vp & down,
So that no Ghost escap't a broken crowne.
And all this time, Ixion, in a maze,
Spectator like, beheld the Furies sport;
At length, asham'd to stand still mute at gaze,
Doth spend his mouth, and reuell in like sort;
Till leuell coyle, which issued from the Pot,
Made hell, still hell, their quarrels were so hot.
[...] was shreudly [...] because the Ghosts
D [...]rb'd the Gods their their [...] coile▪
Which Quorum Iustice [...]
To chaine each Furie to his former [...]:
And [...] the stranger which in [...] did lurke.
By strict command; [...] vnto his worke▪
Whose restlesse paines my poore [...],
With Agamemnon's vaile, must rudely maske.
By Herc'les [...]
And from th [...] [...], the ro [...]all of his [...]aske▪
[...] by [...]ust in Limb o [...] [...] he dwell:
Lust [...], his death, both Heauen, & Hell▪
Henry Hutton. Dune [...]ensis

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