Characterismi: or, Lentons leasures Expressed in essayes and characters, neuer before written on. By F.L. Gent.

Characterismi: or, Lentons leasures Expressed in essayes and characters, neuer before written on. By F.L. Gent.

Table of contents

Title page

To the right Honorable, OLIVER, Lord St IOHN, Baron of Bletsoe.

To his most lou'd friend Mr FRANCIS LENTON.

The Contents.

Characters. 1. A State Politician,

2. A Gallant Courtier,

3. A young Barrester,

4. A Commissary,

5. A Parasite or Flatterer,

6 An vxorious man,

7. A Country Widdow.

8. A Chambermaid,

9. A broken Citizen,

10. An old Bawd,

11. A Pander,

12. A Countrey Girle or Darling,

13. A Lawyers Clarke,

14. A Carle, or Farmer Tenant,

15. A double benefic't Parson,

16. A young Schoolmaster,

17. A Countrey Alewise,

18. An Aldermans daughter,

19. A Prodigall,

20. An Vsurer,

21. A Broker,

22. A Thraso or Braggadotia,

23. A Sempster Shopkeeper,

24. A Prostitute or Common Wh•…re,

25. An ordinary Gamester,

26. An Host,

27. A Common Drunkard,

28. An Elder Brother,

29. A yong Innes a Court Gentleman.

30. A Low-Countrey Common Souldier,

31. A Gentleman-vsher,

32. A Cuckold,

33. An Informer,

34. A Bachelour,

35. An Vndershriefe,

36. A Drawer.

37. A Good Husband,

38. A Constant man,

39. A iealous man,

40. A desperate man,

〈◊〉. A true friend,

§

§

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Characterismi: OR, LENTONS LEASVRES. Expressed IN ESSAYES AND CHARACTERS, Neuer before written on.

By F. L. Gent.

Dum viuo, video

Errorem in humanis,

Terrorem in libris.

LONDON, Printed by I. B. for Roger Michell. 1631.

To the right Honorable, OLIVER, Lord St IOHN, Baron of Bletsoe.

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Right Noble,

AMidst the rest of your sports and pleasures I haue presumed to interpose this small volumne of Characters vpon certaine [Page] subiects, as yet neuer wrote vpon. To which Assumption I was led, not by any affectation or conceit, of my selfe, or of these, but from the true knowledge of that innate worth and noblenesse in you, of which the world so much takes notice, that it iustifies me to be no Parasite, in that my tongue and heart agrees with that generall fame which is neuer blazed without [Page] desert. After some more violent exercise of body (which though through the pleasure thereof is not felt till ended) some wearinesse may accurre. These may perhaps minister occasion of mirth to the minde, and giue digestion to your former delights: Your Honors acceptance of it shall rightly Characterize your curtesie; and your reading it, re-ingage mee to amplifie it with more, [Page] and more merry. And though these goe forth in the reare, they may (if not too much mangled in the Combat with Criticks) returne in the front with victory; which I leaue to the fortune of the day, & your Honours fauour, which I shall study to deserue, whilst I liue to be

Your Honors most oblig'd, FRA. LENTON.

To his most lou'd friend Mr FRANCIS LENTON.

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IF loue, not Learning

May my lines preferre,

To front, not grace

Thy well writ Character;

Or if a willing minde

May plead th' excuse

Of my vnable,

More vnworthy muse;

Then take me with thee Frank,

I meane as well

As he, whose lines

But few can parallell.

[Page]And th [...] my approbation

Cannot adde

Least lustre to thy booke,

Or make't be had

In more esteeme:

Or free it from the mew

Of Simon Simple,

Or the senselesse Crew:

Who finding more

New Characters, will aske,

What's he dares vndertake▪

So blunt a taske.

Then Master Criticke

Comes, and seemes to snarle,

Saying this worke

Onely becomes an Earle.

Yet this I know,

Thine are so witty, merry,

As would haue bin

Allow'd by Ouerberry,

[Page]Had he e're seene'em:

Boldly then goe on,

Well to enlarge, what

Thou hast well begun.

For in despight of

Blacke-mouth'd Calumny

Thy lines shall li [...]e

Vnto Posterity:

And after-times may

With delightfull pleasures

Find sportiue mirth

In reading Lentons leasure [...].

Thi [...]e [...], IO [...]N [...].

The Contents.

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A State Politician. 1

A Gallant Courtier. 2

A young Barrister. 3

A Commissary. 4

A Parasite or Flatterer. 5

An Vxorious man. 6

A Country Widdow. 7

A Chambermaid. 8

A Broke [...] Citizen. 9

A Bawd. 10

A Pander. 11

A Darling▪ 12

A Lawyers Clarke. 13

[Page]A Farmer Tenant. 14

A Double benefic'd Parson. 15

A Schoole-master. 16

A Countrey Alewife. 17

An Aldermans daughter. 18

A Prodigall. 19

An Vsurer. 20

A Broker. 21

A Bragadotio. 22

A Sempster. 23

A Prostitute or Whore. 24

A Gamester. 25

An Host. 26

A Common Drunkard. 27

An Elder Brother. 28

A [...] [...]nnes a Court Gentleman. 29

A Low Country Souldier. 30

A Gentleman-Vsher. 31

A Cuckold. 32

[Page]An Informer. 33

A Bachelour. 34

An Vndershriefe. 35

A Drawer. 36

A Good Husband. 37

A Constant man. 38

A iealous man. 39

A desperate man. 40

A True friend. 41

Characters.
1. A State Politician,

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IS a great Man deepely read in the Mysteries of iniquity; who being wel grounded in the Theoricke, assumes [Page] the Practique as an Effect of the Cause: One, whose much study hath cald him to more Care then Conscience, that whatsoeuer by Power and Proiect he atchieues and accumulates to himselfe, his pretence is still for the good of the Common-weale: For the safety whereof he watcheth as a Foxe for his prey. Forraigne estates are as familiar with him as his owne, for the knowledge whereof he spends much, and gets more. The vulgar honour him more for fear then loue, and either barke, or are silent, as his distance is from them. Their popular applause hee [Page] esteemes not, but laughes at their Enuy in his higher Spheare, soaring aboue their Capacities by the sides of Princes, and seriously contemplating how to carry himselfe in the next Charge, being neuer troubled with any alteration, hauing his seuerall Postures for all; for his Grauity, his lookes, and his language are neere allide, this austere, that seuere; for his Habit, hee is all ouer furr'd, but seldome or neuer foxt, except at a Coronation. In a word, he climes vp with much cost, staggers there with many cares, and commonly falls [Page] with more feares, And those that neuer durst libell him, liuing, dare cowardly throw one of Iuuenals stones at his Graue.

2. A Gallant Courtier,

IS the outside of a Statesmā a little more gaily trimd vp, and as he is [...]epleat with internall indowments, so this is compleat with externall Complement. Hee is a man so courteous, that hee cannot deny you any thing, and so carelesse after his grant, that he will performe [Page] nothing. One whom your Taylor is much bound to for his new fashion (which is his prime study) and he reciprocally for his Taylors faith, (which neuer goes without works) both which concurre together till the day of account, and then he is deferr'd till doomesday, or else presently paid with a Priuilege. Hee hath more deuices vpon a new Doublet, than Ouid had verses, and those as Geometricall, as his naturall. He spares for no cost whilest he may be credited; and when that failes, he fals vpon some full-mouth'd Lady, whose marke hath beene long out; [Page] where he stil preyes but seld, or neuer praies for ought but her death. Hee is composed onely of two Elemens, Ayre and Fire, Leuity and Choler, hauing the predominance, wanting water and earth, humidity and solidity, and holds nothing more ignoble than the defect of formality. His Barber and his beard doe hold a faire and euen Correspondency, and agree aswell as his head with its Perriwig, of which, how carefull he is, the doffing his Beauer wi [...]l discouer, euen from Ludgate Hill (if he dares come so nye it) to Chairing Crosse, his more secure walke. His Congees [Page] are so common, that few care for them, and his bodye's most lowly, when his mind's most lofty: Cupid is his key, Venus his deuotion, and Mercury his messenger, whilst he cornutes lame Vulcan: You may smell him before you see him, and see him long enough before you know him. Hee is oftentimes his his owne admirer, and thinks himselfe the onely obiect of others, whilst they thinke him their abiect. In briefe, his tongue and his heart are most commonly as great strangers, as his hands and his actions, or his large promises & lame performances.

3. A young Barrester,

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IS one call'd too▪t by Reading, though he neuer read for't, and hath tane his leaue of Littleton before he was wel acquainted with him. At his first entrance he hath a very good Conscience, and therefore loues the Chancery better than the Common-Law, aswell for the effect of the one, as the defect of the other; where he liues by perpetuall motion (as not yet ripened, for those more harsh and ambiguous Demurres [Page] and arguments) and subsists by the same, till by stratagem in Law, he hath surprised some Aldermans daughter, by putting the Case rightly, who through the greenenesse of her youth and face, is horne mad for a man of his profession. His very calling writes him Esquire, though his Scutchion sometimes cannot speak him Gentleman, except by way of admittance. Hee is very openhanded till his fee hath clutcht it, and then he's open mouth'd, and will be sure to speake more than toth' purpose, whilest his silly Client reioyceth as much in the [Page] very tone of his tongue, as the substance of his talke, bebeing both [...]quall to his capacity. His Clients are his Soule, and when they faile, he expires, onely here's the difference, hee prouides not for his soule, but his soule for him▪ Hee'll speake more in a moment, than do in a month, and warrant your Cause according to his reading; till your hearings proue his holidayes, and your Trials his experience. His ambition is to climbe to the [...]eat of Iustice, but is loth to be blinde in the place, lest hee should not see those pictures his soule takes pleasure in, but in [Page] the meane time, hee is striuing to be put in Commission, where perhaps you may see him the next Quarter-Sessions.

4. A Commissary,

IS a man much giuen to libels, or rather libels to him, and (which is much) is priuiledg'd to receiue them, and proues a gainer by the hand. Hee trades much in Will and Inuentory (the Relicks of the dead) which he files with much felicity, and howeuer the Executour [Page] [...]peeds, hee is still of the taking hand: He lookes not so much to the performance of the Will, as the payment of his Fees, and visits the wife of the next Vicarage. Hee hath many foule cases layd open before him, and hee as soundly canuasses them; by the which he acquires a faire purse, and a foule Conscience. Basterdy and Bawdery are his chiefe rents, and incontinency and whoredome his Farmers; and (which is strange) he liues by that, for which all men dye, (Sinne.) Hee hath many Visitations, which hee beares very patiently, in regard of the sweet [Page] Cordials accrewing therby. He is your hasty youths, and and yonger Scollers Oracle, who daily worship him for his speedy licence, that they may both presently enter into their Pulpits, and he into their purses. Hee is one that shall excommunicate you, ipso facto, for fiue shillings, and absolue you immediately, ex officio, for three shillings foure pence. In briefe, He is the Bishops mouth, the Bawds eare, the Sinners absolution, the Whores purgatory, the Diocesan Mountebanke, the Church-wardens terror, the Parsonages friend, and the Parsons superuisor, [Page] with whose wife I now leaue him till the next Visitation.

5. A Parasite or Flatterer,

IS Salomons abiect, debar'd euery wise mans Table, not so much for his gluttony, as his glozing. He is ingendred by Pride, hatcht vp by arrogance, and perpetually fostred by fooles (the Anuils on which hee still beates) who by reason of their insensibility obserues not his insinuation, but are presently puft vp with those Peacockestayles he stickes in their foreheads. [Page] Greatnesse neuer goes without this applausiue Puppet, and goodnesse neuer can abide him, there being a kinde of Antipathy between them. His tongue is in the Eare of euery affectator, and then neuer further from his owne heart. Folly and popularity are his prime obiects, and he is still present where they predominate. He cannot be truely generous, for he is a slaue to others mens humours, a thing contrary to a true birth, or a true heart. His greatest pride is, that he onely thinkes other men beleeue him: his greatest pleasure that hee can laugh at [Page] them in's sleeue; and his greatest profit is picking of thankes: hee hath more wit then wisedome, and more garru [...], then grace. He is a great obseruer of mens fancy that hee ma [...] [...]it his lyre to that tune. All men in the [...]nd hate him, and hee goes out like a snuffe. His Conscience accuses him that hee hath praisd Men more then God, and consequently got praise of neither; which hath so deiected him, that hee drops off like a greene apple in a great winde, and by his bruse growes rotten at Core, and so cozens the next Costardmonger.

6 An vxorious man,

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IS one who hath left all the world for a woman, and all women for a thing called a wife, with which idole, he is so effeminately bewitcht, that hee forgets his annuall worship at Ierusulem, and is tied vp with a golden Calfe at home. This Dalilah is his Deuotion, this Ruler his religion, this Eue, the onely edge to his appetite, and he will tast any fruit she tempts him to, (though sower graps) This man is neuer his owne [Page] man, but in thought, for his actions intended, are either diuerted and writhed by her simple will, or els wholly violated and broken by her supposed wisedome; He can be no good common wealths man, he is so confinde to her cannopy, nor a good church man, he is so tyde to her cannons, nor a wise man, to be vanquisht with her willfullnes: Hee thinks himselfe as safe in her sauours as Adam in his first forme, and hopes to merit Olympus, by making a Goddesse of Diana; the which hee is assured by his faith in her faire promises, and his obedience to her [Page] sacred Oracles: In fine, hee is good for nothing but to multiply mankinde, and consequently, Sinne, and (which is fittest for him) not when he purposeth, but when shee pleseth. He cares for no body but her, nor any body at all for him; so that he may liue quietly without company, and dye in his owne folly without a funerall.

7. A Country Widdow.

IS a broken ribbe of Adam, turned loose into the world againe, and is searching for a [Page] new Bonesetter, and newly polishing her selfe for a second edition, or more faire impression. Shee hath lately beene somewhat mortified in memory of her deceased, but hath suddenly gathered vp her crummes, and giuen her selfe out a brace of hundreds more then ere his estate was worth, besides his debts and legacies, wheras her validity proportionable can scarce absolue those. She carrieth her selfe smooth, demute, and familiar, yet at a certaine distance, lest too much familiarity should breed contempt, and then she may cough long enough for [Page] one to court her. If shee be young she is capable of copulation, and the sooner caught in that coniunctiue Ceremony; if past her prime, the more libidinous, subtile, and dangerous, hauing a double wil, the one from her deceased, the other from her widdowhood, by the last of which you may perhaps buy a pigge in a poke; if shee be wealthy, all your comfort is, she is her owne woman, and not subiect to the auaricious counsell of peeuish parents, who care not though the girle cuckold him, so the carle be scraping. She is an obiect to many, and it's well [Page] if but one light on her. She hath already tasted of Mandraks, and likes the fruits so well, that shee longs to graft more i [...]ps vpon that stocke. She is now trim'd vp for the next faire, where if you can bargaine for her, you may ride her home with a twinde thread, and then make the best of an ill bargaine.

8. A Chambermaid,

HAth her proper denomination from the Place where s [...]e is most conuersant and couchant (the Chamber) [Page] and is the carefull polisher thereof, the obsequious pinner of her Lady, and the true louer of her Taylor, euer since the curious cutting of her last Wastecoate, who (with his goose) hath made such impression in her, that her Ladies Closet is thereby impouerisht, and her Marmelet melted in his mischieuous mouth. The beds and she are a kinde of Relatiues, where by reason of her neere alliance and familiarity, shee catcheth manya fal (to which she is subiect) but is seldome hurt by it in regard of their softnesse. Shee is the instrumentall cause of her Ladies [Page] Curiosity, and Pride, the originall as also the secret and soft shutter of the Portall, when her Lady would be priuate. Sowing and starching is her prime occupation, and the Close-stoole her greatest slauery. Shee is a creature commonly very courteous, and may proue an honest woman, if she be not puft vp in the place. She is the patient endurer of her Ladies peeuishnesse, which perhaps may purchase her a paire of old silke stockings, which she prouidently layes vp till the next Summer, & then dernes them for the wedding day. Watching and warming of [Page] cloathes in a short time wrinckles her, and the blossome once blasted the fruit faileth. The best shee can acquire is but Master of the Maydes, and the worst that can befall her is but footing of Stockings.

9. A broken Citizen,

IS one whose hornes are growne so great that hee is asham'd they should be seene, and is therefore glad the Gates a [...]e wide enough to giue way to his passage, of which he takes his vale for a [Page] certaine season to some finister Sanctuary; where hee lyes at racke and manger, whilest his too credulous Creditors are gnawing their Thumbes. By his subtill carriage hee wrought himselfe into their Credit, of set purpose, shortly to bee out of their company; which, with acute language hee hath at last accomplisht; and now they may go look this Bushlane needle in a bottle of hay. Hee absents himselfe so cunningly, that they shal not so much as heare of him, till they haue spent their galls, and then by degrees he giues way to their inquiry with a [Page] letter from Ireland, or some place farre remote, whilest, (though disguis'd) hee is at the next Tauerne to them; obseruing how like so many Kites they lay wayt for the Chicken in the Wood-pile. Hee hath beene a man of a large tongue, & short haire, which two haue beene great helpes to his game. Hee is a man now so well lyn'd with the coyne acquired by his former impostures, that hee is in a quandary whether to giue them a desired Composition of twelue pence i'th pound, or to abiure the City for euer. His Conscience (as false as the light he once deceiu'd [Page] by) tells him, they that lost it may spare it, and hee that winnes ought may weare it, whilst hee spends it worse than hee got it, and must certainly pay for it, he knowes not how soone. Hee now discouers the secrets of silly Tradesmen, and l [...]ughs at his sleight in his higher Spheare. Hee hath now admitted himselfe amongst the multitude of Man-slayers, and feeds them for feare, and his owne folly for fashion. Milford lane, and Ram-alley are his Castles, Ca [...]heerd Captaines, his companions; Souldiers his [...]onductors; and Serjeants and Bayliff [...], [Page] his perpetuall dreame and Terror; and in that little ease I'll leaue him, till hee hath spent that he hath stolne, and then his last Refuge is Ludgate, where his doleful voyce giues more delight than pitty to his repining Creditors.

10. An old Bawd,

IS a menstruous beast, engendred of diuers most filthy excrements, by the stench of whose breath the Ayre is so infected, that her presence is an ineuitable contagion, [Page] her eyes more poysonous than the Basilisk; her nose (if any) most pestilently pocky, her tongue more subtile than the Hyena, who stil howles in some fained voyce for the deuouring of innocents, one who hath damnably destroyed her own soule, and is diuelli [...]hly deuising the destruction of others. Shee is the mother of impudency, the Dungeon of diseases, the daughter of lust, and the most obscene sister of scurrilous and lasciuious delights. An excellent Astronomer, for by the ratling of her bones shee can discouer the alteration of the weather; [Page] Fooles haue fatted her vp to the day of slaughter, and Knaues are ready to cut her throat for it. Marshals, Beadles, and Constables are her continual terrour, whom by much siluer, shee perswades to silence; silly maids, vntam'd youths, and sullen wiues are her cheefe marchandizes, and she sells sinne on both hands at a high rate. Adulterate beauties, and counterfeit complexions, are her alluring baits to deceiue the simple, and all's fish that comes to net with her; All the credite shee hath got by her abomination, is carting without cōmiseration & casting [Page] of loathsome things at her defiled Carkasse. Diseases at last dry vp her marrow, and [...]rottennesse so shiuers her, that shee drops asunder on a sudden, and wretchedly dyes without pitty; for whom, a Christian buriall is too courteous.

11. A Pander,

IS the Spaniel of a Bawd, who fetcheth and carrieth at her pleasure, and is the most seruile slaue of basenes. For halfe a crowne he will be your seruant all day, and for [Page] the whole cut your throat at night. His lookes are commonly silly and dei [...]cted but you will finde his heart deceitfull, and his actions damnable. Hee will fawne vpon those hee feares, and roughly misuse those he can master. He liues at all distances and postures, one while Tapster, or Tobacco seller, otherwise Strumphusle [...]; now brother, then Cozen, sometimes master of the house; yet all this while, Rogue, Theefe, and Pimpe. Hee is impudency it selfe, for if the officer approcheth, he sweareth and forsweareth, is the case shall require. Hee is much subiect [Page] to Kicking▪ and is often basted, together with his Bawd. He walkes in perpetuall darknesse, and is still in danger of the Watch, and cannot be otherwise than the abortiue issue of some Adulteresse, his nature is so consonant to theirs. He is spu'd out of all honest company, and fostred with none but fornicators. He liues thus till Bridewell hath possest his Bitches, and the Pox possest him. And then with a meagre countenance, and creeping threed-bare Cloke, hee creepes from Bawd to Bawd for a crust to comfort his crazy Carkasse, and at [Page] last in his owne ordure, most desperately and distractedly dyes in a ditch, a graue already digged for him.

12. A Countrey Girle or Darling,

IS a raw, young, and greene maid, newly arriued at the Hauen of discretion, and yet farre from the Port thereof, one that thinkes more than she speaks, speaks more than she vnderstands, and vnderstands more than shee dares expresse. Shee is prankt vp like a Peacocke by her doting [Page] Parents, and is the precious pearle of her mothers Pride, for the Crow thinks his owne bird the fairest, and they thinke their Goose a Swan. She is a babby trimd vp for euery feast and faire, where the Plough-drag salutes her with two kisses, two penny-worth of peares, and a two-penny red ribbon, which hath so rauisht the Girle, that shee gads after him with much greedinesse, and presently puts finger i'th eye for his absence. Shee is very to vardly and tractable, the cause that her father so feares his horse-keeper, lest hee should steale her and his [Page] horse together. Shee is one whom no desert can gaine, nor Gentry obtaine, except he can first plough with that Heiffer, and then hee may finde out the Riddle, for she is falne in loue with an Acrestaffe, and longs to handle it. Shee is her fathers hope, and her mothers happinesse, the Paragon of that Progeny, though the coursest in that Countrey. If they dare trust her, she is sent to bee sold at the next Market, together with her Basket of Butter, where at the Crosse her [...]impring will scarce giue her leaue to tell the price on't. And thus I leaue her still longing [Page] for something that her friends like not, and in that onely consists her wisdome, that she will please her fancy sooner than her friends.

13. A Lawyers Clarke,

IS a spruce youth somewhat aboue the degree of a Scriuener, much conuersant amongst sheets & skins, Subiects he works vpon much, & is a kind of a Iugler, who by slight of hand, will suddenly make a cleanly conueyance of your estate, that you shall not afterwards need to study [Page] how you may prodigally spend it; and he will so contriue it by president, that he will make you an example whilest you liue. Hee is one who will doe more with a gray Goose wing, than euer Robin Hood could doe, and is very dangerous, if once hee puts his hand too't. Foure pence a sheet hath furnisht him with a new Suit, and he somtimes executes the place of a Gentleman-vsher vpon his Mistris. Hee is a man generally of no solidity, except by his much costiuenes with continuall sitting, yet a man of great study, insomuch it hath so stupified him, that he [Page] lookes for his pen when it stickes in's [...]are. Littleton is too obscure for his capacity; and not one amongst forty of them can reade Law French. He is commonly a good fellow, and loues to gaine no more than hee meanes to spend. Hee hath a peece of Iudas his office, (the Carriage of the Bagge,) which were it full of Peeces, as it is of Papers, hee might chance to shew his Master a tricke for't. Hee aspiers sometimes to his Masters daughter, but being stau'd off there, hee choppes vpon the Chambermaid, and there stickes fast. He hath [Page] lookt for preferment till age hath dimm'd his eyesight, and is now endeuouring to goe Clarke of a Band in the next voluntary Voyage; which if hee speed, the Leagre so belouzeth him, that hee returneth with much Humility, and poorely prostrates himselfe for a halfe-penny a sheet. He is a meere Clarke without any other quality, and hath seldome any commendation, but hee writes a faire hand.

14. A Carle, or Farmer Tenant,

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IS a kinde of a Mole, perpetually deluing in the Earth for his dinner; and is of as great iudgement as Aesops Cocke, esteeming his corne more then precious stones. He is a fellow of a very great stomacke, which his Landlord can quaile, sooner then his poore dinner pacifie. And is somewhat of the nature of a Hogge, looking still downward wh [...]st hee chawes and gathers the Acornes, [Page] not knowing the Tree whence they fell: and seldome looks vp, but for a shower. He is the wretched Modell of our forefathers misery, and that which was Adams curse, is his calling▪ Sorrow, the sweat of his face, and a barren field, are▪ his wrackt rents and reuenewes, and a griping Landlord his intollerable griefe. Yet hee riseth early with the Larke, and whistles (as hee thinkes) to the tune shee sings, when his broken notes demonstrate nothing but Musicke for a horse, and according to that whistle is his singing of Psalmes (the cause of so [Page] much discord in the Countrey Quire.) When hee tils the Earth, he tallowes it with his owne grease, and endures it the better for the dunging of his ground. His haruest is his greatest happines, which is more welcome to him then the Sabbath, and in reaping time hee wisheth none, lest he should loose more in that one day, then get in the other sixe: for though he acknowledgeth godlinesse to be great gaine, yet his greatest is his graine. He is the soyle on which all Citizens and Idle folke feede, the very drudge and doghorse of the world, one that dares not [Page] eate the fruit of his labour lest his rent should fall short, and he be turn'd forth of his toylesome Vineyard. His hands are his lands, his pleasures reall paines, his Crops carking Cares; his food, the bread o [...] sorrow, his cloathes the skinnes of his outworne Cattell, and taglocks of his trauell his whole life a continuall toyle, and his worke an endlesse▪ warfare. His greatest comfort is his lawfull Calling, and his moyling in the Earth, a meanes of his mortification. Euery Clodde he turnes ouer is the emb [...]me of his misery. And his Colter and [...]hare the emblemes [Page] of his Graue, the which hee is alwayes digging.

15. A double benefic't Parson,

IS a Master of Arts or Crafts, who by fauour and coyne, hath caught a degree a yeere too soone, and now lyes for all the liuings he can lay hold of. Hee hath already rung his Bels for two Parsonages, and not sufficiently prefer'd by those, is putting in for a Prebend or two to make himselfe more compleat in his Taffeta Tippet, and more [Page] curious Cassacke. Simony and he are Correlatiues, and that which hee obtaines by Simony, he retaines by Subtilty. His Degrees giue him a Doctor (tho a very dunce) and his deuice is now for the next Deanery, to which Musicke, money must be the Master of the Organs, if hee meanes to sing in that Quire. Hee hath two Pulpits and one Sermon, which he preacheth at both his Parishes at his primer induction, and then a couple of silly Curates read out the rest of his Incumbency for the twentieth part of his Parsonages. Hee is one who hath [Page] the cure of others soules, and yet (by his account) cares not for his owne; and (the more's the pitty) is clad with the fleece, without feeding the flocke. His Pulpets and he are so falne out, that they bate one another, and 'twere no matter if he had falne out of them long agoe. His greatest study is how hee may wracke his Tythes to a higher Rate, and then feed at ease like a Boare in a Frank. He's very fearefull of another Parliament, lest one of his Liuings should fall short of his reckoning. He hath fisht [...]ill hee hath fild his bagge, then sits downe to fil's belly, [Page] and lends little or naught to the distressed. Hee is one whom God hath falne out with for his too little teaching, and his Neighbours for too much Tything: He will sooner conuert the Gleabe into a pasture then a soule to his Master, & is of this opinion, that if hee hires one, his duty is perform'd. He is the cause [...] of so many poore Schollers, and his ouer▪bidding, the debarring of the [...] gifts, or forestaller of their Markets: And yet he is so [...] inclin'd, that hee curseth [...] Laity who possesse impropri [...]tions, and is now grown so sat with pleasure & pride, [Page] that nothing will satisfie him but a Bishopricke, or a Graue; in the last of which, he is daily wisht, that some man of more deserts, might climbe to that place hee so seldome came neere, (the Pulpit.)

16. A young Schoolmaster,

IS a new Commenc'd Bachelour, who hath suckt so long at the paps of his Nurse, (the Vniuersity) that shee hath almost pin'd him: and therefore his fortunes denying him the degree of Master, [Page] in a resolution leaues his Nurse to rocke the Cradle her selfe, and boldly aduentures into the broad world, (like a Lapwing with it's shell o'th Crowne) with Lilly in's head, and Ramus in's hand, where in some▪ small Village hee first excrciseth the Art of a Pedagogue, for instruction of infants. Two pence a week, by the Rurals, is proffered him at his first entrance, for the literature of little Primmer Boyes, and foure pence a weeke for Accidences, besides his Sundayes dinner, by turne, together with the plaine gifts of some of their plainer mothers; [Page] by the which, hee atchieueth to the annuall Pension of ten pound Sterling. He is one still exercising the rod of correction, and the greatest part of his Reuenue, is the fees of tender mothers for sparing his rod, and hating their Children. He doth all things in order, for hee hath now taken orders, and beginnes to peepe into a Pulpit▪ with a pocket-Sermon; and as that takes, is either animated or discourag'd, to proceed to a Vicarage. Hee is one commonly of more desert than respect, and often, for his good parts, surpasseth their lazy Parson. If [Page] he scapes a Free-Schoole, he may light vpon a Free holders daughter, and her loue may procure him a Library. A Lecture read to her may enlarge his Patrimony, and a licence confirme. Hope and patience are his props, and his perswasion is still, that the seuen Liberall Sciences wil notsee him want. A Free-Schoole Lecture or Vicarage is his next ayme, and if all these faile, A Scholler, by his industry, may soone bee fit for any thing.

17. A Countrey Alewise,

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IS a subtill Creature, who seeming to bee clad with simplicity, and to be as plain as her poorer Petticote, by her short Courtsies and rurall carriage, will draw till both you and her Barrell be both dry together; and may be term'd the Water-worke of iniquity, or the Vnctious Engine of sophisticate and adulterate Ale. Tossing of Iugs, Pots, and Cans are her ioy, and the froth the best part of her gaine. The Assise [Page] of bread and beare is as hateful to her as a Promoter, and yet all is not well except he be in with her; and (which is worse) she is forced to make the Disners drunke once a month to conceale her cunning. Shee is the Receptacle for all commers, and whatsoeuer be the company, their coyne shall bee alike to her. Her Purse fils as their bellies, but empties not so soone, for it seldome exonerats its selfe till the Maulster appeares, and then farwell forty-pence. Misreckoning and shee are sworne sisters, and her owne daughter is forc'd to lie for't. Drunkennesse and quarrellings [Page] are her daily▪ guests, and mischiefs, oft-times, the murtherer of her signe; and then the barrels are ill entreated for their so liberall contribution. Forlorn swaggerers are her greatest sorrow, for they'll score against her will, and then wip't out with a wet singer. Shee hath fill'd her Purse by forfeiting her Recognizance, (which the Clarke of the Peace will empty with his [...]ees.) As Drunkards encrease, so doth her Tipping; and the Tap and she are tost vp together. She loues Tinkers and Ped [...]ers for their true payment [...]f her, and hates nothing [Page] more than a Puritan, or a Parson that perswades from drinking. Shee is annually forced to purchase a new licence, that her launted liquor may runne more warrantable. Oathes, Idlenesse, and infinite absurdities are begotten and fostered at her Alebench, and poore Aleknights wiues and children doe perpetually curse her.

18. An Aldermans daughter,

IS the peeuish Spawne of a peremptory Citizen; now [Page] ready at the point of preferment, and is highted vp for that purpose, and is the purer mettle of the miser her father; who, not long since, descended from the loynes of some lubbardly Farmer, and is now by giddy fortune surd all ouer, and in the vanity of his spirit lookes asconce if you misse the title of Master Alderman. This Peacocke, his daughter, is one of the painted Pageans of the City, who dares not look vpon her splea foot for crushing the sets of her Ruffe with her Chinne, and weares her coat the longer to conceale them, yet (such is her pride) cannot [Page] forbeare the holding them vp for her silk stockings sake. She is grown to that height, that she scornes to know her fathers courser kindred; nay more, longs so for honour, (the Idoll of fooles) that she disdaines a bird of her owne feather (a Cockney) though a foolish Knight; and ambitiously (through the conception of her coyne) aspires to the Court, and thinks a Lord little enough for her. And though she be crooked both in mind and body, yet confidently mainetaines, that Gold makes all things strait, for which she knowes her father hath not str [...]tch'd his [Page] Conscience in vaine. She is the prettiest. Parrat her mother h [...]h hatoh'd, and in her discourse (which is neuer solid) will speake non-sense with much celerity▪ and wil passe by it without blushing, or notice of it. She with the French-hood her mother, doe pace with much pompe and equipage to the Spittle, to the Rehearsall Sermons, where she retaines only two senses, a wandring eye, and a liquorish Pallate; seeing of strange obiects, and tasting of sweet-meats, with which, [...]er pu [...]'d handkerche is repleat. Her mind is much set vpon Court Masques, the [Page] cause of her sleighting the City, where sometimes shee hath participated of such curious Cates, that the pleasure of thē will not yet out of her Pallate, which makes her in pensiue sort sollicite her parents to giue her her owne choyce; and howeuer, shee will be a Lady, though shee lose all for't. If her mother once call her Madam, she is made for euer, for it is the heighth of her-ambition to bee the top of her kindred, lest her betters should take place of her. Her Title, and Attire are her onely Idols, with which she is hurried in a Coach with six horses, to [Page] the heighth of her pride, (which must haue a fall) and then perhaps she may be left with a Litter.

19. A Prodigall,

IS a profuse fellow puft vp with affectation, and nusled in the same by vaineglory (the finall end his smaller wit and thinner skull aymes at) towards which all his vntoward actions tend. Hee deemes all his equals, his inferiours, especially those he most accompanies, amongst which hee thinkes himselfe [Page] the best man for paying all the reckoning, which they incontinētly without grudging grant him, lest their very offer should prouoke him to indignation, at least to oaths, to which he is very apt. He is neuer in loue with mony but when he wants it, and when he hath it, he sleights it. He is one of a very yeelding nature, insomuch, that if you praise ought of his that he affects, he presently bestowes it on you, scorning to be so base as to stand a begging. Nothing troubles his soule so much as to be last in a new fashion, or the least in company when hee is so accoutred. [Page] His carriage is very courteous, yet somewhat quil [...]ed with singularity (the secret pride of Prodigals,) fooles are his admirers, and knaues his soothers, whilst hee forgets himselfe to remember them, and neuer thinks of shutting the stabledoore till the steed be stolne. His greatest bragge is, hee hates co [...]etousnesse, not dreaming how in the meane time he imbraceth the contrary extreame vice. Hee spends with such confusion, that his supposed friends and associates doe willingly forget his Courtesies, and is of such sublimity of spirit, [Page] that he neuer lookes so low as hogs, til he eats husks with them, and then the Trough proues his Touchstone. All men behold him with an (alas! tis pitty) whilst few or none supply his pouerty which pursues him like an armed man. He is at last o'retane like a Butterfly in a storm, & left by all those that seem'd to loue him, and (me thinks) in anguish of Spirit [...] heare him crosse the Proueth and say, Better is a penny in one's purse, than a Courtly friend.

20. An Vsurer,

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IS an old Fox clad in a lambskinne, who hath preyd so long abroad, that hee hath feather'd his nest for his time, and now sits close in his Denne, and feedes securely vpon his former stealths. And though the Prouerbe saith, Ill gotten goods neuer prosper, yet it tailes with him, for his golden tree florisheth and croppe increaseth what weather soeuer comes. And if old Time lends him but yeeres and dayes still, hee cares not, [Page] though hee giue time to others, as if he had it to spare. Gold and siluer are his Idols or Images, which he hides as close as Rachel did her fathers; he keepes them prisoners vnder locke and key, till Bils and Bonds giue security for their safe returne, with another petty impersonall Idoll, cald Interest. His greatest mistery is the particular knowledge of each petitioners estate, who solicite him for money, which by secret intelligence hee knew better sometimes then the borrowers themselues, which if hee feares, hee fals off till they finde security to fill vp his [Page] mouth. His perpetuall meditation is vpon the future dayes of payment, which he punctually obserues, hoping the missing of a day may make a forfeiture, and hauing law for't, let conscience goe to the diuel. He is grown very subtill in his trade, prying into the possessions of young heires, whose parents by debts and legacies haue impouerisht, & if he can but catch them in a Calfe-skin, he is cocke-sure; for by such mortgages, his mony so eats, that thereby hee soone atchieues Fee-simple, for by many such Calfe-skins, he is able to cloathe himselfe in [Page] Sables. He seldome furnisheth men at the first entreaty, though the security be sufficient, but will procrastinate you for a weeks intermission, pretending in the meane time to borrow it for you; which borrowing, attracts Brokage (the yonger brat of Vsury. In his trade aboue all others, you must both pray and pay, and yet nere haue thankes for your custome: commonly hee dares scarce eate of his abundance for diminishing the stocke; and but for cold, would goe naked, to saue cost: his very habit wil discouer him from top to toe, and his leaner [Page] chaps, his pinched carkasse. He is still counting his chickins before they are hatcht, whilst his owne day of account befals him vnawares. Hee neuer sang the fifteenth Psalme with a true heart, which troubles his conscience on his death-bed, and may iustly make him feare hee hath lost more Treasure then ere he traded for.

21. A Broker,

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IS a forlorne, or Bankrupt Tradesman, who hath diued into diuers sorts of mercatory deceits, and findes none so sweete as this mischieuous mystery of Brokery, (the blacke Art of dishonesty.) Hee is the receptacle for Theeuery, and a vent for much Villany. There is a reciprocall kindnesse betwixt him and a Rogue, and wer't not for filshing, his Trade would faile. Rather than not be trading, hee will descend [Page] to petty Larceny, or any knauery to gaine a penny. Pawns are his perpetuall practice, for which (of what kind soeuer) hee neuer lends aboue halfe the value, setting a peremptory day for their redemption, with six pence for the bill, and interest treble the Statute in the hundred, vpon their redemption, which he seldome feares, for hee knowes the parties to be no such pay-masters. Hee workes much vpon Pouerty and necessity, and by his vnlawfull interest, oft-times eates out the price of that they were full sorry to part with. He confidently walkes [Page] by his old remnants, for all commers, sitting at the receit of all ill Custome. Coozeners are a great part of his Customers, and Cut-purses his Coadiut [...]rs. His chiefest knauery is the alteration of the property, that the discription of the deceiued, may not find out the deceit. Hee is a backe friend to the Citty, the scum of Tradesmen, a sosterer of Theft, and a palpable staine of the Suburbs. Long-lane, & Londonwall may yet embrace him, (to the great wrong of Newgate) [...]ll some further Law reforme it, for the Receiuer is as bad as the Theefe, and [Page] the enticing cause of stealth, of which many accuse him; and if he be so impudent as to deny it, Tiburne may shortly proue it, which dispatcheth many more deseruing.

22. A Thraso or Braggadotia,

IS a boysterous fellow in a Buffe-Coat, swelling like [...]olus, in windy words, whose tongue is still applauding himselfe, and detracting from others; and by grim lookes and sterne language [Page] idolizeth his owne igno minious actions. One that makes all his frayes with his vnctious Tongue, and then is forc'd sometimes (vn willingly) to maintaine and defend them by his timerous hands, or to auoid them by her treacherous feet. His valor is daring and affrighting words, which hee foameth out with such a forced fury, that you would thinke him in earnest, and so hee would be, saue that his heart giues his tongue the lye, which it as obediently puts vp, as hee will your blowes; for hold but his fained Choller vp to its feeble height, and begin [Page] but where hee ends, and hee'll quake like an Asp [...]n leafe, or grow so flegmaticke and coole, that [...]e will take your kickes for courtesies, and your corrections, for good mis-constructions, yet by this rough way hee often carries the conquest amongst Cowards, whose smallest satisfaction, vpon any cause of duell, he suddenly entertains with inward ioy, lest persisting in his peremptorinesse, he should force them but to offer defence, of which he is is very fearefull. And if contrary to his intent, hee chanceth by his austerity, to incurre a quarrell (of which he [Page] is very cautelous) it's enough to put him into a quartaine ague, and his temerity is suddenly turn'd to timidity▪ That little valour which hee hath, I must needs confesse is true, because it's link'd with discretion; for, I'le warrant you, hee'll strike none [...]ut those he knowes will not resist: hee is a Schoole-boy well learnt in this, that hee knows who he can master. In briefe, he is one that would be valiant, but for beating; and being beaten, esteemes himselfe the better man, in that hee aduentur'd it. And may be compar'd to a Tempest, that blusters a while, [Page] and is suddenly silent; or to a blazing Candle, that flutters till it extinguisheth, and then stands there stinking.

23. A Sempster Shopkeeper,

IS a feminine Creature, furnisht with the finest Ware, making her greatest gaine of Sindon, or fine linnen; transforming it into seuerall shapes for that purpose, and may bee call'd the Needleworke purle of prettinesse. Shee is very neatly spruc'd vp, and placed in the frontispice of her shop, of purpose, [Page] (by her curious habit) to allure some Custome, which still encraseth and decreaseth as her beauty is in the full, or the wane. Shee hath a pretty faculty in presenting herselfe to the view of Passengers, by her roling eyes, glancing through the hangings of Tiffany and Cobweb-lawne, that the Trauellers are suddenly surprized, and cannot but looke backe, though but to view babbies in her face, and in affection to her comelinesse, must needs cheapen her commodity, where they are wrapt into a bargaine by her beauty, and doe kisse the Nurse for the childs sake, [Page] which shee kindely accepts, and desires them as they like that, she may haue more of their Custome. In her trade [...]ee is much troubled with stitches; amongst which, backe-stitch is the most ordinary, easie, and pleasant to her; and if you cannot bargaine for her Ruffes in her [...]op, shee will fit you with ch [...]ce at your Chamber, so you pa [...] her well for her paines: She is well acquainted with hemming too, which sometimes makes her leaue her Needle to drinke a cup of Canary, to breake her stitch; nor is shee ignorant of Cutworke and Pursewo [...]k [Page] but hath her particular patt [...]rnes for them too. Her smile, in asking what you lacke, will force you to want somewhat (though but a paire of sockes) and by your buying of them, shee may draw you to a shirt, and warm it for you too the next morning. She is the patterne of cleanlinesse, the Barbary Button of brauery, an Exchanger or Citty Barterer, who cannot want custome so long as her ware's good. She loues not those that lye naked to saue linnen, and hopes to grow fat by coyning new fashions. And thus I leaue her stitching till her thread [Page] be cut, that some younger of her faculty may trade in her turne.

24. A Prostitute or Common Wh [...]re,

IS a Creature in the forme and shape of our mother Eue, but of farre more impudency, for as Eue desired to hide her nakednesse, this couets to discouer it, making a Trade of lust, and a pastime of incontinence. A painted [...]esabell peeping out at her polluted windowes, with a nod or beckon to allure the [Page] simple; and shamelesly saluting those she ne're saw; and may be compar'd to a Iakes, which euery rogue vseth for necessity, and then abhorres it. She is the very Compendium and abstract of al basenesse, nor is there any abomination to which she is vnapt. She is hell it selfe whilst she liues vpon earth, and her fire burnes as hot as Etna; to whose flames none can approach without either scorching or consuming. And, (which is inexcusable and inexpiable) she makes a calling of accursed Copulation, and iustifies it lawfull for her liuelihood. Shee is both [Page] menstruous and mercenary: Lust and Murther are her professions, and she cares not who knowes it. Her veynes are fill'd with seuerall sorts of poysons, which swell till they burst out into some loathsome excrement; and then, all that know her, hate her; and all that lusted after her, now loath her. As shee is an actor of any mischiefe, so, at last, shee becomes the Embleme of most extreme misery, who with halfe a nose, and one eye, is making her fa [...]all end, and is happy if her torment end here.

25. An ordinary Gamester,

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IS one that hath vsed many tricks and deuices to picke vp a base liuing, but finds no deceit so faire, quaint▪ and gentil [...]'as this slight o [...] hand, this nimble god Mercury, this cunning trip of a Dye. Hee is neuer idle, nor euer well imployed, for he is still thinking, plotting, and deuising to find out some foole to coozen. He is more couetous than any Vsurer, for he desires but his principal with certaine interest, but this [Page] Youth cries, Haue at all; and is perpetually shuffling and cutting for aduantage. He is somewhat too prodigall of other mens purses, especially in his habit▪ which is commonly nea [...], if not braue and gallant; for his cloathes are his greatest stocke, of which he ought to [...]aue foure sui [...]s, two to weare, and two to pawne. The first makes him fit for his betters society; the second, for supply to his game, if he chāce to be spent: yet hee is very seldome b [...] on the gaining hand, especially when hee me [...]ts with some profuse yong Pre [...]tice, or some yo [...]g Innes a Court [Page] Man that hath lately receiued his quarteridge, for by these deuices hee diues into the pockets of the dissolute, and as he gets it from fooles, so he spends it on Queanes. Cursing, swearing, and quarrellings, are his Nocturnall attendants, which arise from Choller, and the losse of Coyne, mixed with want of sleepe. Hee preposterously alters the course of Nature, as he alters the Cards; sleeps all day, and playes all night, onely hee will spare some time to eat and drinke drunk vpon a lucky hand, so that he hath no leasure to pray, except to blind fortune. He neuer [Page] thinks on his sinnes, till he hath lost all his substance, and then (if he hath but grace a little to pause on them) they flocke so fast from his memory to his mind, that hee cannot endure their grim looks, and therfore chops them and his Dice together into his Box, and cries, Hang sorrow, care will kill a Cat. He is one that seldome thriues in his By-path to his end, but his goddesse Fortune, at last, playes the whore with him, and leaues himin his greatest extremity: And when hee hath neither to pawne▪ nor [...]ll, hee is forc'd to borrow twelue pence to pay for his [Page] Ordinary, and sometimes lyes a weeke together at the mercy of the Ordinary. Hée ebbes and flowes as the tyde, and nothing makeshim hope any good of himselfe, but his daily change, which perhaps may put him in mind of his last, that death may not catch him dicing, at hazzard, no [...] Time (whom he hath much abused) in fury breake his houre glasse, and so iustly by Catastrophe coozen him without care, that hath cheated so many without▪ Conscience.

26. An Host,

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IS most commonly a Corpulent fellow, so puft vp with the vnctious Element of Ale, that his wicket is not wide enough for his passage, and therefore his gates are daily open, lest they should preiudice his guts. His chiefest liuelihood is by the commings in of others, and not of his owne. He is as greedy of Guests, as the Diuell of soules, and as loath to part with them; which makes him so often goe gaping to [Page] the Gate, with a Tapster or Oastler in's mouth, gaping for new guests. His threadbare Salutation is alwayes welcome Gentlemen, which very words doe winde in the Tapster, and consequently a frothy lugge; and it's ten to one, but ere you haue ended that, hee is entred into some strange tale, perhaps collected out of his last nights dreame, and as true too, for herein consists his best faculty, in ministring cause of mirth and newes to his weary and welcome Trauellers, (things to which he knowes mans Nature is much addicted,) for he reads more men [Page] than Bookes, and should be wise, but that his head's too little for his body: yet if he catch your horse in arrerages, you'll find him cunning enough, for hee'll raise his Crest so hye, that he'll make the doore too little for him. He is a great husband in his drinking, for hee is neuer drunk at his own cost, which makes my Ostesse beare with the bestowers the better, and perhaps may require them with a nights lodging for't in a time of need. He cannot subsist without company, tho [...]e be Cuckold for't, and is neuer melancholly but when Gallants passe by his [Page] gates without tarrying, or tarry till he is forc'd to trust them; and then he mournes i'th Chine for a moneth after. His greatest trouble is, that Physicians tell him, hee is subiect to the Dropsie, which he will not beleeue til he sees it, and then hee and his purse are purged together of some of their sinister and superfluous gaine. Drunkennesse and Gluttony are his best guests, of which hee is both entertainer & partaker; & grows fat by profusenes, & rich by riotous reuellings; which tho it somtimes disturbs the peace of his little common-wealth, yet the [Page] payment of the reckoning workes his pacification, with an (all's well that ends well.) His trade cannot faile so long as men haue mouthes and mony, which he knowes will be till both his lease and hee expire. He is a man of little or no faith, the cause hee doubts his saluation, yet bezils vp and downe, till hee waddles into his windingsheet, and then goes a iourny he knowes not whether; and it is wel for him, if at the end of his trauell, hee findes an Inne not worse than his owne.

27. A Common Drunkard,

[Page]

IS a reasonable beast, and a sensitiue man: a strange Monster, halfe man, halfe beast, swimming in the Ocean of Bacchus, and like the Whale belching and foming out of his mouth and nostrils abundance of that frothy and vnsauoury Element he so lately ingurgitated and swallowed, to the amazement of those smaller fishes that flocke together about him, and is drowned in his owne orbe. One whose essential [Page] parts are so obscured▪ his sense so dulled, his eyes so dazeled, his face so distorted, his Countenance so deformed, his [...]oynts so enfeebled, and his whole body and minde so transformed, that hee is become the childe of folly, the derision of the world, and is led like the Oxe to the slaughter, as his owne executioner; yet in all this, his head beares the greater sway, and his feet are not swift to do mischiefe. Hi▪ belly is his god, the which hee ouer-cloyes with drink-offerings, and he is alwayes indebted to my Os [...]esse, and his belly to him, [Page] but he neuer to that, so long as his Purse, Credit, or shame can make euen with it. He is one that either spues himselfe out, or giues occasion to be spurnd out of all ciuill Company. Apt to any thing he can stand to execute, (except Vertue) a meere stranger to him. Noddy is his vsuall game, and for Ale too; till hee growes so stupified, that he nods his No [...]e vpon the Noddy b [...]ord, and in reuenge strikes his opposite for the wrong offered, and there the game ends, and fray begins, and then cals for drinke to drinke himselfe friends with them, which friendly [Page] cup giues occasion of a second quarrell. Hee is the Mault-worme of the Common-wealth, that suckes in the ioyce of the poore laborer, and leaues his owne family so dry, that they are either parch't with famine, or burnt with thirst. In briefe, hee is the off▪ scumme of the kingdome, and fit for nought but to set in the front of some vaine and voluntary voyage, lest he should [...]unne away in the Rere, and rob his owne parish for euer after.

28. An Elder Brother,

[Page]

IS oft-times the heire of Fortune, and folly, both together, and will still maintaine the Prouerbe, Fortuna fauet Fatuos: and as hee is heire, so is he often executor to his fathers ill-husbandry, which somtimes gripes him so, that it grindes his estate into a smaller quantity, to the diminishing of the Mannor, with the appurtenances. Hee is so incumbred with such a Letany of Legacies for the smaller Infants, that [Page] his wit is almost confounded with the very Catalogue of their names, if not wholly distracted in the discharge of their portions; for his braine generally is but shallow, and consequently is soone empty, & as soone runs ouer. He is not giuen to trauell (the Ambition of sharper wits) for he is in perpetuall trauell at home, whose staidnesse his Low-Country brother takes aduantage of, by strong stratagems and designes of war, till (besides his legacy) hee hath angled himselfe into coyne enough to purchase him a Company, which hee dissolues into Dutch Ale, [Page] and dries it vp with more dul Tobacco. His Lady with her Coach, haue run themselues out of their way, her out of wits, and him out of his money, to vpold her fancy, and the new fashion both together, till the Mercer for his money gathers into his estate by morgage; which, he is as wel able to redeeme, as to build Pauls, or rule his wife. His Ambition is still to raise his house, though he sels his land, and liue vpon the lease at the rate of the Purchase. Hee sometimes hath wit or wealth enough to bee made a Iustice for the Peace, where his lookes bewray [Page] his learning, and hee neuer speakes but to some or no purpose.

The Fates in Mercy made such for the releefe of younger Mercuries; and they make the best liuing and worst vse on't. And thus I leaue him, that often leaues many behinde him to the Tyranny of Fortune, whilest hee is studying his Pedigree.

29. A yong Innes a Court Gentleman.

[Page]

IS an Infant, newly crept from the Cradle of learning, to the Court of liberty, from logicke to law (both grounded on reason) from his Tutor to the Touchstone of wits, where he is now admitted amongst the braue imps of the kingdome, to grow Pillars of their Countrey. Hee is his owne man now, and left to the view of faire vertue, and foule vice, the last of which layes [...]iege [Page] to his tender Walls, and often makes a shrewd Battery, if not quite scales it. He is one that for the most part forgets his errand, and studies Poetry instead of Perkins. His greatest care now, is how to carry himselfe according to the dancing Art, and holds it a greater disgrace to be Nonsuit with a Lady, than Nonplus in the Law. He tramples vpon the Termes oft, and holds it a base language, about which to busie his more high and transcendent thoghts. When hee aspires once to be a Reueller, he then reueales himselfe to the full, and when he [Page] should bee mooting in the Hall, he is perhaps mounting in the Chamber, as if his father had onely sent him to Cut Capers, and turne in the Ayre till his braines bee adled, and makes things meerely for ornament, matters of speciall vse. His Recreations and loose expence of time, are his only studies (as Plaies, Dancing, Fencing, Tauerns, Tobacco,) and Dalliance, (which if it be with Time, is irreuocable) and are the alluring baits of ill disposed extrauagants. He is roaring when hee should be reading, and feasting when he should be fasting, for his Fridaynight [Page] supper doth vsually equalize his weekely Commons, and it's to bee scared, he will exceed two meales in the weeke besides, with lac't Mutton, for whosoe're payes for his Commons, hee'll fall aboord. He is a youth very apt to bee wrought vpon at his first entrance, and there are Fishers of purpose for such young fry. He atchiues much experience before he arriues at the Barre, and then (if euer) begins to study, when (for his time) he should begin to plead. Amorous Sonnets, warbled to the Vyall, are his Coelestiall Harmony, and if you put a Case [Page] betweene, you make a great discord. Hee loues sense better than reason, and consequently not so fit to make a Lawyer. Wherefore I could wish his friends to cause him to retire, before hee bee too farre spent, and to marry him before he be starke mad, or a worse mischeefe (if possible) befall him.

30. A Low-Countrey Common Souldier,

IS an idle fellow, as weary of his owne Country, as that is of him, and lest hee [Page] should be prest some worser Voyage, goes voluntary thither to auoyd it. One that hath tired al his friends here, and is now transported thither to trouble the Boares there, where hee is now admitted amongst a multitude of mischieuous fellowes, to learne all his postures; the first of which, is to double his Dutch Canne till his Tongue doubles betweene his teeth, and then to fall out till hee bee beaten into a stomacke. And when that small quantity of coyne hee carried with him, is exhausted, hee simply settles himselfe to foure shillings for [Page] eight dayes, which he pol [...] tikely powres down his gullet in a day, and then liues by Virginian vapour a weeke after, till his stomacke so wambles, that hee is forc'd to lumber his vpper garment to supply his guts, reseruing still the Embleme of a Souldier (his Sword) and a Plimmouth cloake, otherwise call'd a B [...]ttoone. By this time hee is well entred, and will madly strike vpon the least occasion, which his Schoole-fellows perceiuing, grow as mild now, as heretofore they were malapert; and will rather intreat him to drinke away his Choller [Page] or belt, than force him to the field. Hee is now growne to that height of valour, that he runs ouer a Dutch Froken, or else fals fowle vpon her, to the endangering of her firkin of Butter, and more solid Cheese, with no small effusion of teares from her fatter Ale-tub. These, with many other postures hee hath atchieued too by Stratagem, and thinkes himselfe a Serjeant Maior in these designes. As for his Pike & Musket he seldome troubles thē, except sometimes vpon meere compulsion to fill vp a Company. Halfe a yeere hath so qualified him, that for want of [Page] supply, he begges for a furlow, and then legs with it, till hee arriues at his owne Shore, with two hempteere napkins pind together at his shoulders for a shirt, or else none at all. Thus hauing spent his spirits, he pensiuely creepes home with many creepers about him: where, hauing gathred vp his crums, tels such lowd stories of the leagers he lay in, and discourses so superficially of the discipline of Warre, that hee amazeth some Countrey Traine-Captaine, insomuch that hee courteously takes him to the Alehouse, and giues him a Colours for't, [Page] which he gratefully accepts, and vowes hereafter rather to bee hang'd in his owne Countrey, than to be abus'd by Belgicke Counterbuffes. And though he hath not yet left his swearing, yet he hates lying P [...]r deiu abominably. And hath gaind so much wit there, that hee thinkes the name of a Souldier makes a man valiant, rather than valour makes him a Souldier, which hee hath already forsworne.

31. A Gentleman-vsher,

[Page]

IS a spruce fellow, belonging to a gay Lady, whose foot-step, in times of Yore, his Lady followed, for hee went before. But now hee is growne so familiar with her, that they goe arme in arme, the cause sometimes that he slights the Gentlewoman, and yet, vpon better aduice, pleaseth her againe in secret. Hee is a man whose goings and standings ought to bee vpright, except his Lady be crooked, and then ▪tis no [Page] matter though hee stoope a little to please her humour. His greatest vexation is going vpon sleeuelesse arrands, to know whether some Lady slept well last night, or how her Physick work'd i'th morning, things that sauour not well with him; the reason that oft-times hee goes but to the next Tauerne, and then very discreetly brings her home a tale of a Tubbe. Hee is still forc'd to stand bare, which would vrge him to impatience, but for the hope of being couered, or rather the delight [...]ee takes in shewing his new Crisp't hayre, which his Barber [Page] hath caus'd to stand like a print hedge, in equall proportion. He hath one Commendation amongst the rest, (A neat Caruer) and will quaintly administer a Trencher in due season. His wages is not much, except his quality exceedes, but his vailes are great; insomuch that he totally possesseth the Gentlewoman, and commands the Chambermaid to starch him into the bargaine. The smallnesse of his legs bewrayes his profession, and feeds much vpon Veale to encrease his Calfe. His greatest ease i [...] hee may lye long in bed, and when hee's vp, [Page] may call for his breakfast, and goe without it. A Twelue-moneth hath almost worne out his habit, which his annuall pension will scarcely supply. Yet if h [...]s Lady likes the Carriage of him, shee increaseth his Annuity. And though shee saues it out o'th Kitchin, she'l fill vp her Closet.

32. A Cuckold,

IS a harmlesse horned creature, but they [...]ng not in his eies as your Wittals doe▪ [Page] the reason of his honesty and th'others knauery. He confidently gleans after the reapers, not thinking of stealing, and kindely embraceth the leauings of his neighbors, and is aswell satisfied as if he had the first cut, verifying the old Prouerbe, That the eye sees not, the heart greeues not. Hee is very indulgent to his Spouse, giuing her her own way in al things, lest she should take it; knowing that women are most apt to forbidden fruit. There is a speciall Sympathy, by instinct, betwixt him and his Co [...]uall or Cuckolder, for he alwaies loues him best, his [Page] wife likes best (a speciall token of a patient and true husband.) Hee neuer greeues at his keeping of other mens children, for hee is very charitable that way; and (being f [...]d with blinde reale) loues them aswell as if they were his owne. Hee palpably possesseth his place in his Pew, without the least conceit of pointing at him, and welcomes him to dinner that is i'th dish before him, which his wife passeth by without blushing, praying the Gentleman to be his owne Caruer, whilst the silly man ne're dreames of her intent, after his decease, or his then departure. [Page] He liues a very contented lif [...], and is not troubled with Iealousie (the torment of the mind) but takes all in good part, so shee bee pleased. Hee spends his time thus till hee becomes one of the Head-broughs of his Parish, and holds his veluet hornes as high as the best of them, he minds his owne affaires more than his wiues actions; and if he dyes not a Pricket, hee may liue to bee an old Stagge, a very Lordly beast.

33. An Informer,

[Page]

IS a spye or knaue errant, that peepes into the breaches of penall Statutes, not for loue to the Commonwealth, as his owne lucre, amongst which Asissa panis & ceruitiae, th'assize of bread and beere are his greatest Reuenues, for winking at small faults, and coozening the King and Subiects both at once: for though the pretence of his profession be for the fulfilling of the Statutes, yet his Roguish mystery [Page] aymes at his owne ends. He transformes himselfe into seuerall shapes to auoyd suspition of Inne-holders, and inwardly ioyes at the sight of a blacke Pot or Iugge, knowing that their sale by sealed quarts, spoyles his Market, and abates his mercinary Coozenage. As he is an▪ Informer, so hee should be a Reformer, but for his quarterly fees▪ from Taphouses, for conniuance; which fees, are the cause of so much froth in the Tapster, to recouer that againe of which he was cheated. Hee sneakes like a Serieant into euery corner to take aduantage, [Page] and drinkes vp mens drinke and makes them pay for it. As hee loues no man, so he is hated of all, and is very neere hell when hee is drunke in the Celler. Hee is the scum of Rascality, and the abuser of the King and his Exchequer both together; yet he seldome thriues in his impostures, in regard of his greater sharers, whose vassall and slaue hee is. All men behold him with indignation, and point him out knaue in euery Parish, which he willingly puts vp, in hope, one day, to auenge himselfe vpon their purses. His gaine is extortion, which may in [Page] time pul both his eares from his head, or dig him a graue vnder the Gallowes, which he hath already deserued.

34. A Bachelour,

IS one that carries a great burthen about him, Concupiscence; to which hee is either giuen ouer, or in perpetuall combate betwixt the flesh and the spirit; He is neuer quiet in his mind, for he is continually choosing, and commonly as soone dislikes his owne choyce: a great point of folly in him to bee [Page] prouok't to any thing either by opinion or purblind Passion. He is one whose honesty cannot shelter him from suspition, and imputation of his next neighbour, by reason of his supposed vigour. Hee dreames away his best time, and sowes his seed in other mens gardens, (which they reape and are no gainers by it) whilest hee hath scarce any left to sowe in his owne. Hee thinkes himselfe happy in that hee hath none to care for but himselfe, whilest he cares not at all for his Nobler selfe, his Soule, and dyes without a Vine to his house side, or an Oliue plant [Page] to his Table; so that posterity shall not behold any of his Progeny. Hee courts each handsome obiect, his veines being full of Venus, and his heart of Cupids darts, which in short time so sting him, that happily ere long, he salutes Hymen, and proues an honest man: for the obtaining whereof in his former estate he was farre out of his way, except made an Eunuch, and consequently been hated by the softer Sex for euer after.

35. An Vndershriefe,

[Page]

IS an actiue fellow, begot by the Statute for a yeere, and then his name extinguisheth, though he be sharer in anothers, the next yeere after. Hee is the feare and terror of all debtors, as also the free entertainer of the Creditour, who daily sollicites him with coyne, to be expeditious in his Catching, which hee discreetly entertaines with protestation of performance, whilest a fee on the contrary forceth him to [Page] neglect, knowing that thogh delaies proue dangerous, yet all makes for his aduantage in the end. He is the birth, life, and death of the law. The birth is the first processe; the life the execution, and the death the stopping the breath of the execution; by giuing notice to those that neuer requite him with nothing. Hee is one subiect to much danger, and ought to haue both wit and valour, the one to defend his purse, the other his carkasse, lest the Exchequer cut the one, and the Countrey Rebel the other. He vnderstands more than the high Sheriffe his [Page] Master, and may well, for he buyes his wit of him (which is euer the best) and sells it againe at a treble valew, prouing a great gainer, if his Quietus est doth not too much gripe him. He is outwardly respected more for feare than loue, and as little esteemed when hee is out of his office, which will be next Michaelmas Terme, and then you may trade with him for ten groats (an Attournyes see) his Collaterall profession.

36. A Drawer.

[Page]

IS one deepely read in the mysteries of the Celler, diuing into the secrets of Hogsheads, and is much conuersant in the mingling of his Ware. Hee is of such celerity, that hee ascends the Staires in a moment, and descends them as suddenly, especially when hee is throwne downe. He is one that trusts all commers (for he onely cryes score it) but hee trusts them no further than he sees them, and when [Page] their braines and bellies are full, hee lookes they should empty their purses. Hee is subiect to many ill words, which he as patiently beares, as they are like to doe his blowes, if they want the Reckoning. Hee should bee very wise by the continuall sight of so many seuerall humours, and would be so, but for the sumigation of the Celler, which eleuates his wits, and makes them fly so high, that they sometimes catch a fall. He is alwayes a good fellow, and loues a Gentleman, for that hee is sometimes one himselfe. He drinks the best drinke which [Page] breeds the best blood, the cause hee commonly loues a Wench, for hee is a man of great trading. I cannot tell whether his Master serues him, or he his Master, but I am sure they cannot wel liue asunder. Hee is now casting about for some Merchants Credite, to set vp for himselfe, that his wife may keepe the Barre, to attract Custome, and he leaue his iourney worke, and become as free to her, as shee may bee to others.

37. A Good Husband,

[Page]

IS a man who steeres all his course in a right line, and weighes all his actions in an equall ballance; a very good Mathematician, for hee is alwayes within his Compasse, but neuer runs circle so long as to make himselfe giddy. Hee cuts out euery thing into a geometricall proportion to his Rule and est [...]; nor doth his Sense too much ouer-rule his Reason. Hee drinkes onely for thirst, and eats only for hunger, [Page] knowing superfluity to be the heyre of prodigality, and liberality the daughter of good husbandry, and medium betwixt two extremes. He is the sole happinesse of a good wife, and the torment o [...] a Waster. His children neuer liue to haue cause to curse him, nor his feruants to accuse him for their want of wages. He seriously viewes the folly of Profusenesse, and is inwardly sorry to see the fall of any. He is not so niggardly as to grutch himselfe or his friend a good meale, but tasts freely (though temperately) of that God hath lent him, and [Page] thinkes himselfe no loser by lending a little to the needy. His moderate diet giues him longer dayes, and his care in his calling frees him frō idlenesse (the bait of his greatest enemy) for in doing nothing men learne to doe ill. He loues not stolne waters, (though ne're so sweet) but is satisfied with the breasts of his owne bedfellow. Hee educates his children in a Religious way, knowing that Grace cannot want goods. And thus hee passeth his pilgrimage with a peacefull Conscience, and leaues the world with all good mens applause, so that his Name [Page] dyes not with his nature. His tything in his life time was so true and conscionable, that the Parson preacheth his Funeral praise, and perhaps giues him gratis his buriall in the Chancell.

38. A Constant man,

IS one who hath limitted his Passions, and set certaine bounds to his affections, louing still in his course to hold the bridle firme in his hand, lest carelesly letting the reines loose, hee either stumbles dangerously, or fals [Page] very foule. His actions are solid, not phantastike, and he is very wary of promising anything that he either thinks or knowes hee cannot performe; for hee still casts beyond chance, knowing a possibility, and seeing a probability before hee passeth his protestation. Hee is one that keeps his mind within him, the reason why he thinks and speakes both together, without any iarre betweene his tongue and his heart. His word is as good as his bond, and his conscience the best debtor. His loue (if possible) is without lust or iealousie, fixed on vertue, where it [Page] stands firme as a rock. Truth hath bound vp his Temp les and discretion hath so knic the knot, that hee seldome makes his choyce so bad as to refuse it, his word so large as to reuoke it, or his time so short as to peece it with delayes at its period. Hee must needs bee very patient too, else his constancy could not continue, for impatiency breaks the fence of hope and stability, and lets in despaire and leuity, a couple of wilde Cattel that may spoyle a wel growne field. The wife that possesseth him is happy, for there is sure hold of his word. Shee findes him at his [Page] appointed howre, which debarres her of many fears, and she ne're eats her meat cold, by staying for his comming. Hee hath wealth enough, if he hath but this one Vertue, for all men beleeue him, and dare trust him. Time and experience haue wrought him into euery mans good opinion, and he stands vnmoued in all his dealings. He hates a lyar as a Theefe, and is the greatest friend where he once pro [...]esseth. The world is now growne so wilde, that few men are of his minde, and fewer women, the cause of so many Cuckolds, periur'd persons, and dying louers.

39. A iealous man,

[Page]

IS one so strangely and strongly possest with the yellow Iaundis, that he thinks all things of yellow colour, which mistake proceeds from the defect of the eye, not the obiect. He is one whose mind is in a continuall labyri [...]th, the further it goes, the further perplexed; the more it looks, the more tormented, and yet sees nothing but by imagination, which foolish fancy lyes so heauy in his forehead, that he takes it for a horne, though it bee but a pimple i'th' flesh. Hee consumes▪ [Page] himselfe and his wiues reputation both together, by his too oftē cause les suspitiō, and thinks a kisse (tho before him) a sufficient cause of diuorce. He is the scoffe of his neighbors, and the bait that causeth many to nibble in iest, that hee might vex in good earnest. He commonly dreames of his wife though neuer so broad awake, and would keepe her in a Chest but for feare of picking the locke, which sets the greater edge to her appetite, and the greater madnesse to his misbeleafe. His braines are in perpetuall agitation, and in his phantasie (being a kind of frenzy) sees so many loose [Page] passages in her, and lasciuious embraces by his supposed Corriuals, that hee's starke mad at last with melancholy musing. He liues in hell vpon earth, and is so besotted, that he cannot see when hee is well. Hee is so farre gone in his disease, that all Physicians haue giuen him ouer, knowing there is but one medicine (amongst all) to cure him of this malady; which is, to see that really acted which hee so sted fastly supposed; which (no doubt) will shortly bee effected, to the full recouery of the Coxcombe, and the manifestation of his error in's forehead, (an ornament fit for him.)

40. A desperate man,

[Page]

IS one who hath forgot, God, the world, the Diuel▪ his Neighbor and himselfe, and runs with precipitation into any danger. All his actions are violent, and therefore cannot bee permanent. He is a man of no faith at all, the reason he can apprehend no mercy from his maker, but all Iustice. He still goes with Cain's feare about him, that euery man will kill him, whilst hee himselfe makes a trade of murthering; not fearce touch't for't till his fatall, and then it fals so heauy, [...] he cannot beare it. He is [Page] a man of no staidnesse, for he leaues a Rocke to build vpon the Sand. Some thinner sculs thinke him valiant, because he dares stab, or doe any sudden mischiefe: but the Schooles deny it, approuing valour to bee mixt with discretion (which a desperate man altogether wants,) besides, valour is a vertue springing from fortitude, but rashnesse a vice arising from passion. He is one no way fit for any place, either in Church or Common-weale, for he that cannot guide himselfe, is most vnfit to gouerne others. Hee is a man of small or no hope, for hee is left to himselfe, and then scarce a [Page] man. Hee doth all things without premeditation, the reason why so many disasters attend the end of his actions, which hee commonly feeles before he sees. All that know him shun his society, not so much for feare of him, as the law, knowing that his fury will force them to some further inconuenience. Hee is setled and vested in this villany, and takes a pride to be talked of for his treachery, and is still glorying in his owne shame. New-gate or a worse place, wil shortly take possession of him, if he mend not his manners, for a gracelesse man is good for nought but a gallowes.

FINIS.

[...]. A true friend,

[Page]

IS a Fountaine that cannot bee drawne dry, but alwayes affords some fresh and sweet waters to him, whose necessities and extremities enforce him to fetch it. Hee is a mans second selfe, as deere as a good wife, more deere than a brother, else the wisest King had beene mistaken: but our times iustifie his Prouerbe true, which hee knew before. He is Solamen in miserijs, a Copartner in [Page] distresses with you, and inwardly (not fainedly) beare halfe the burthen. Loue and amity hath so knit him to you, that 'tis a question whether you be two or one, reciprocally answering each other in affection, and are equally sensible of each others defects or disturbances. Hee is no Meteor or Comet, no nine dayes wonder, or wandring Planet, but a fixed Starre, by whose operatiue influence, his needy is nourished. For hee is not compos'd of words, but actions, alwayes ready at a dead lift, to draw Dun out of the myre. Not onely a [Page] bare Counsellor to goodnesse, and so leaue you without meanes of prosecution (the niggardly wisedome of these times) but an assister in the way, and goes on the first mile with you for company, and lookes after you in the rest of your iourney, if he doth not trauell throughout the same. Hee neuer aymes, at any of his owne ends in doing courtesies, but doth them freely and quickly; not drow [...]ding his good deeds in the dull performance; for, Qui citò dat, bis dat; He that giues timely, giues twice▪ He's a certaine perpetuity▪ [Page] that cannot be lost by nonpayment of Rent, and ought to bee loued aboue fee▪ simple. He is the pillar of constancy, & the very touchstone of Truth. One that lookes vpon men with the eye of Religion, and is not [...]ounded in the eare with worldly applause for it. Hypocrisie and vaine-glory are as farre from his heart, as the contrary Poles are from each other, for his right hand shall not know what his left hand doth. Hee is (in these iron dayes) Rara auis in terra; a blacke Swan, or a white Crow, as rare as the Phoenix, and such a precious Iewell as [Page] the Indies cannot a [...]ord his his parallell. He is most happy that hath him, and I aduise him to make much of him, for hee hath great fortune indeed, if he findes a second.

FINIS.

Information about this book

Title statement

Characterismi: or, Lentons leasures Expressed in essayes and characters, neuer before written on. By F.L. Gent.

Lenton, Francis, fl. 1630-1640.

Edition statement

1631

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2004-03 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A05320

ID [STC]

STC 15463

ID [STC]

ESTC S109394

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

99845042

ID [PROQUEST]

99845042

ID [VID]

9918

Availability

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Series

Early English books online.

Notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A05320)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 9918)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 842:08)

Source

— Characterismi: or, Lentons leasures Expressed in essayes and characters, neuer before written on. By F.L. Gent., Lenton, Francis, fl. 1630-1640..

Extent

[168] p.

Printed by I[ohn] B[eale] for Roger Michell,. London :: 1631.. (Dedication signed: Fra. Lenton.) (Printer's name from STC.) (Signatures: A B-G¹² H⁴.) (The first two leaves and the last leaf are blank.) (Running title reads: Characters.) (Reproduction of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery.)

Creation

Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford.

Editorial practices

EEBO-TCP is a partnership between the Universities of Michigan and Oxford and the publisher ProQuest to create accurately transcribed and encoded texts based on the image sets published by ProQuest via their Early English Books Online (EEBO) database (http://eebo.chadwyck.com). The general aim of EEBO-TCP is to encode one copy (usually the first edition) of every monographic English-language title published between 1473 and 1700 available in EEBO.

EEBO-TCP aimed to produce large quantities of textual data within the usual project restraints of time and funding, and therefore chose to create diplomatic transcriptions (as opposed to critical editions) with light-touch, mainly structural encoding based on the Text Encoding Initiative (http://www.tei-c.org).

The EEBO-TCP project was divided into two phases. The 25,363 texts created during Phase 1 of the project have been released into the public domain as of 1 January 2015. Anyone can now take and use these texts for their own purposes, but we respectfully request that due credit and attribution is given to their original source.

Users should be aware of the process of creating the TCP texts, and therefore of any assumptions that can be made about the data.

Text selection was based on the New Cambridge Bibliography of English Literature (NCBEL). If an author (or for an anonymous work, the title) appears in NCBEL, then their works are eligible for inclusion. Selection was intended to range over a wide variety of subject areas, to reflect the true nature of the print record of the period. In general, first editions of a works in English were prioritized, although there are a number of works in other languages, notably Latin and Welsh, included and sometimes a second or later edition of a work was chosen if there was a compelling reason to do so.

Image sets were sent to external keying companies for transcription and basic encoding. Quality assurance was then carried out by editorial teams in Oxford and Michigan. 5% (or 5 pages, whichever is the greater) of each text was proofread for accuracy and those which did not meet QA standards were returned to the keyers to be redone. After proofreading, the encoding was enhanced and/or corrected and characters marked as illegible were corrected where possible up to a limit of 100 instances per text. Any remaining illegibles were encoded as <gap>s. Understanding these processes should make clear that, while the overall quality of TCP data is very good, some errors will remain and some readable characters will be marked as illegible. Users should bear in mind that in all likelihood such instances will never have been looked at by a TCP editor.

The texts were encoded and linked to page images in accordance with level 4 of the TEI in Libraries guidelines.

Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements).

Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site.