The night-rauen. By S.R.

THE NIGHT RAVEN. ALthough the Owle, and I, a cuſtome keepe, To flye abroad, when other Birds doe ſleepe, Changing our courſe from thoſe of other feather, Yet do not we conſort a nights together. I haunt not barnes, for either Mouſe or Rat, As doth the ſearching two-foote flying Cat, Nor into buſhes after birds to pry, Ther's diff'rence t'wixt that deuills face and I: For ſecret things, being of another kinde, In obſcure darkneſſe, I apparant finde Thoſe euill actions that avoyde the Sunne, And by the light of day are neuer done, But lurke in corners, from diſcloſing eyes, Not daring open view in any wiſe: Thoſe moſt familier are made knowne to me, I take a notice who, and where they be, Drunkards that drinke vntill they cannot ſpeake, Villains and Theeues, that into houſes breake Whores and Whoremongers trading for the Pox, And reeling Watch-men, carrying Rogues to Stox, With many knauiſh matters that be fall Which, turn and read, and you ſhall know them all, I neither tattle with lack-daw, Or Maggot-pye on thatch'd houſe ſtraw, Nor with your hopping cage birds ſing, Nor cuckow it about the ſpring: Or like your Blacke-bird, Thruſh, and Stare Whiſſell in cages, for good fare: Or cackell with your ſcraping Hens, Nor hiſſe with Geeſe, (that finde you pens) Or like your durty Ducks doe quacke, That in the water, water lacke, Nor crow as doth your dung-hill cocke, Clowne almanacke, and Shepheards clocke, Or prate as greene-coate Parrot doth, Like an old-wife, with ne're a tooth, Nor mourne like Pigeons fed with peaſe: I am conſort for none of theſe. My watchfull eyes awake I keepe, When all ſuch idle creatures ſleepe. Were I not blacke, as all crowes be, I ſhould euen bluſh, at things I ſee.

Three fearefull Theeues. A Gentleman, lying awake in's bed, Hauing good Chriſtian motions in his head, How he had ſpent the day, worſe then he ſhould, Omitting to performe the good he would, Committing thoſe things which he ought not doe, As Sathan, World, and Fleſh, did vrge him to. Vnder his lodging very cloſe and neare, A conference twixt certaine theeues did heare. Quoth one of them, my counſell pray imbrace, Let's breake in heere, this is the weakeſt place. No ſaid another, I doe doubt we ſhall Finde this ſo ſtrong, that heer's a double wall. Then quoth the third, breake out the iron barrs For too long lingring all our buſineſſe marrs: We muſt not onely heere this night abide, For we haue houſes to attempt beſide. The Gentleman vnto the window goes, And thus he ſpake, vnto his theeuing foes; My friends (quoth he) forbeare this quoyle to keep, And come anon, I am not yet a ſleepe. When they heard this, away with feare they fled, And he ſecurely, did returne to bed.

A Rogue in the Stockes. A Baſe rude raſcall of the Roguiſh crew, For miſdemeanors that by him there grew, Set by the heeles (according to deſert) Made himſelfe merry with this knauiſh part: The night obſcure, as darke as night could be, Hearing one come, Stand, who goes there? quoth he: The fellow (ſeeing neither watch nor bill) Reply'd an honeſt man, that meanes no ill: Sirra (quoth he) I heere proteſt and ſweare As I am Conſtable, ſtep one foote neare; And in the ſtocks thou ſhalt till morning ſit, Or I my ſelfe, will for thee furniſh it, The fellow backe againe his courſe did take, With all the haſt that both his legs could make, Suppoſing t'was ſome Conſtable in's rage, Whoſe fury was no leſſe, then ſtocks or cage.

An Apology for Women. THer's an abuſe which comes vnto my mind, Vniuſt impoſed vpon women kind, When men haue done things that diſtaſtfull be, And that their words from actions diſagree, In ſaying one thing, doing of another, A ſpeech is vs'd their guiltineſſe to ſmother, Sure he's a man would haue perform'd the ſame, But the night Rauen is in all the blame. Caſting the cauſe by ſlaunder on the wife, When ſhe (good ſoule) is o • 〈…〉 •• rtuous life, That from his word ſhe no way •••• perſwade, Although raſh promiſe had 〈…〉 made. Therefore kinde harted men 〈…〉 Tearm them no more night 〈…〉 True harted Turtles, conſtan • 〈…〉 Mylder then men, and of leſſe 〈…〉 More pittifull, and more 〈…〉 Leſſe enuious and leſſe 〈…〉 And of themſelues ſo rare 〈…〉 Not prouing bad, till bad 〈…〉

A night Swaggerer. TEll me the Watch is ſet! why th'art an aſſe! What Conſtable dare ſay I ſhall not paſſe? Who euer bids me ſtand, ile make him lye, And cut his watchmen out like ſteakers to frye. I am a gentleman in three degrees, And for three worlds my tytles ile not leeſe: A gentleman by true diſcent of blood, My auncient ſtocke, was long before the flood. Then for my ſchollerſhip a gentleman, Both reade and 〈…〉 caſt a count I can. Then third degree of gentleman I clayme Is my profeſſion 〈…〉 Souldiers name, •• oke but 〈…〉 for eighty eight, 〈…〉 you haue me ſtraight. 〈…〉 that I will ſtand in feare, 〈…〉 , asking who goes there? 〈…〉 and will beare ſway, 〈…〉 not ſo by day, 〈…〉 it beſt, 〈…〉 I feare arreſt.

Faſhions, out at the elbows. TAylor, I take thy want of manners ill, Doſt come to ſupper to me, with thy bill? Haſt thou no time, but come at candle light? Or doſt thou feare I meane to vaniſh quite? My choller tells thee, th'art a botching ſlaue, Thy Iourny-man, a very pricklowſe knaue. My Sattin-ſute is moſt malignant made; Goe burne thy bill, and ſo reſolue th'art pay'd: And cutter-out thinke y'are a happy man To ſcape my fury thus, ſirrah I can, Areſt you for the ſpoyling of my ſtuffe, And yet that action ſhall not be enough, I haue at leaſt ſeuerall nine or ten To teach a knaue, how he wrongs gentlemen: As making it according to French-nation, When I ſhould haue it of the Spaniſh-faſhion. Then bringing it in Iune home, paſt your day, When I ſhould had it ſeene at court it May. Then for two lice (I will be ſworne I found) Vpon my Pickadilly, creeping round, But ſince th'art poore, I ſome compaſſion taking Will puniſh thee, with, nothing for the making.

The Roaring-boy, and his Punke. PVnck I lacke money, how haſt thriu'd to day? To morrow I haue layd a plot will pay, And ſtrap thou ſhalt haue interreſt to boote, Count me a villaine if I faile to doot. Apox vpon thee, roaring rogue (quoth ſhe) When we ſhould get I wonder where you be: Heere was a city-young-man, by this token, Search you the purſe, a pretty youth well ſpoken, And ſayes on thurſday heele be heere againe, With him let me alone, I haue his vayne: But I lack'd you to ſwagger with a gull, A gallant that had crownes his pockets full, A ſhame light on thee, hadſt thou then come in And curſt, and ſwore thou hadſt my husband bin, The fearefull ſlaue, would willingly compound, Rather then in a baudy houſe be found, Be heere on monday-night in any caſe, I ſhall haue an Italian then in chaſe, Beſides a Dutch-man comes to try a Punke Swagger it brauely then, be ſoundly drunke.

The Gull, and the Domineering Conſtable. SIrra, what are you? where's your dwelling place? Sirs bring the Lanthorne, let me ſee his face. Doeſt know him Beadle? Surely ſir not I. Ant pleaſe your worſhip I doe lodge hereby, I haue bin forth at ſupper with a friend. Tell me of ſupper, tut a puddings end You kiſſe the Counter ſirra that is flat, Ile teach you know my place deſerues a hat. Ant pleaſe your worſhip, I confeſſe it doth But pardon me, my head's not well in ſooth. You thinke all howres of the night to march Becauſe y'are in your yellow cloſe-ſtoole ſtarch. Haſt not Tabacco, and a tynder box? The knaue may fire the towne, haue him to ſtocks▪ Pleaſe your good worſhip not a Pipe I haue. Doſt thinke I ſit heere to keepe ſheepe thou knaue? No ſir, with reuerent magiſtrates I match Your worſhip, and the gentlemen, your watch, Well ſirra ſince your duty doth appeare, I am content, this time you ſhall goe cleere. Depart in peace, and play no knauiſh pranckes, I giue your worſhips all, moſt humble thanks.

Terrible news, for Taber and Pipe. AN odd companion, walking vp and downe, To pipe a liuing out from towne to towne: Being at a Wedding buſie at his play, Forgetting daunger of his tedious way, Belated was, yet be it ill or good, He did reſolue to wander through a wood. And as he went with knap-ſacke full of ſcrapps, And Taber at his backe, by fortune happs That he farre off by Moone-light chanced to ſee, A cruell Beare, which forc'd him take a tree, The beaſt, with ſodaine ſpeed came feircely too't And fell to ſcrape and ſcratch about the roote. Poore Taborer ſo ſcar'd was with the Beare, He ſweate and trembled, in a ſtinking feare. At length he thought vpon his wedding ſcraps And threw them to the Beare, to fill his chaps. Who for the time from mining did refraine; But eating all, fell hard to worke againe. Oh now (quoth he) I haue no hope at all, The tree begins to ſhake, and I muſt fall, Adew my friends this Beare will me deuouer, Yet as a farewell at my dying hower, Euen in diſpight of Paris-garden foes Ile haue a fit, as hard as this world goes, And ſo betakes him, to his Pipe and Tabor, And doth them doth, ſo ſound and braue belabor, The Beare amazed from his ſcratching runs As if at's breech had bin a peale of guns, Which when the Taborer with ioy did ſee, Well Beare (he ſaid) if this your humor be, Would I had knowne to vſe the charming feate, You ſhould haue daunc'd, before you had my meate So downe he comes, and without longer ſtaying, Thorow the wood goes homeward, al night playing; Then ſends for all his friends, that they may heare The ſtory of the Piper and the Beare, Vowing his Tabor was more deere to him, Then was Arions harpe, when he did ſwim Vpon the Dolphins backe, moſt ſafe a ſhore, And that ſame Inſtrument for euer-more As monument, vnto Tompipers race, Should ſhow his valour, and the Beares diſgrace.

To all ſlothfull Seruants. I Often in the night (as I doe flye) See burning houſes flaming to the skye, At which moſt dreadfull accidents that fall, A ſodaine terrour terrifieth all, People amazed crying fire, fire, And in perplexed manner helpe require Some in their beds conſum'd to aſhes quite, And ſome for ever franticke with the fright, Some wealthy men at ſetting of the Sunne, And ere the riſing, beggers cleane vndone. And when that people ſeriouſly inquire, How all this great misfortune comes by fire; The common anſwere is, (and tis too true) Moſt ſlothfull ſeruants, it is long of you, You that no care doe in your callings take, Nor chriſtian conſcience of your waies doe make, To looke vnto your fire and your light; Of which in duty you haue ouer-ſight, But ſlight the danger that to other growes Becauſe your ſelues haue nothing for to looſe; Aſſure you this, a careleſſe queane or knaue, Euen ſuch as they haue bin, ſhall ſeruants haue.

A wicked Wife. IN darkeſome ſhade of melancholy night, There did appeere to one, a walking ſprite, Which put him in a fearefull fit to ſee, At length vnto Hobgoblin thus ſaid he, If thou belong to God, and beare good mind, Thou wilt not vſe me cruell and vnkind, Becauſe no hurtfull things to him belong, That will doe vs (poore humane creatures) wrong, But if thou doſt pertaine vnto the Deuill, Yet for his ſake forbeare to doe me euill, For I haue married late, a lumpe of ſin VVhich is his ſiſter, therefore pray for kin That is betweene the diuell and my wife, Affright me not with feare of limbe, or life. Haſt thou (quoth he) nay then if it be ſo, I will not vrge thee vnto further woe: A wicked wife, croſſe vpon croſſe begins, She's plague enough, to plague thee for thy ſins.

A wounded Drunkard. A Drunkard, (whom the cup did tardy catch) Came very late a reeling through the watch, Who cald him with the common who goes there? But he in ſtaggers would not ſeeme heare, The Conſtable, (with drowſie Bill-men mand) Said ſirrah, in the Kings name looke you ſtand. What rebell knaue (quoth he) wilt not obay? So looking by their Lanthorne, downe he lay And to the watchmen, holding vp his hand, Said now I charge you all to help me ſtand, Or elſe in ſober ſadneſſe, (you fox getters,) Ile make you anuſwere it before your betters, Marke what I ſay, for now I charge you all, To make me ſtand, and looke I doe not fall. With that they got him on his legs and ſtaid him, Saying heer's the Conſtable, you diſobay'd him, And were it not for ſhame, (baſe drunken clowne) We would (as we may lawfull) knocke thee downe. With that he fell vnto the ground againe And cry'd out murder, murder, I am ſlaine, My ſcull is cleft, they haue put out mine eyes, And cut off both my legs, Hoſtes, Dick dyes.

Like Miſtris like Maide. Svſan, would meete with Richard and with Ned, Aſſoone as ere her miſtris was a bed, For a Sack-poſſet they agree'd to eate, And ſhe beſides would haue a bit of meate, And ſo be merry, that they would in ſadneſſe. But euen about the time of mirth and gladneſſe, When both the young-men were beſtow'd within, One that had long her miſtris louer bin, Knocks at the doore, whereat her ſelfe came downe (As looſe of body as ſhe was of gowne) And in the darke put Letcher in the roome, Where both the youths attend till Suſan come, Who in meane time to light a candle went, So did her miſtris for the ſame intent, And meeting with her maide, oh ſtrange (quoth ſhe) What cauſe haue you at this time heere to be? Miſtris (quoth ſhe) vnto you ile be true, There's two as honeſt youths as ere I knew, Came late to ſee me, (pray you be content) Wench this may be (ſaid ſhe) and no hurt ment, For there's an honeſt man, to make them three, That came in kindneſſe for to viſet me, Good Suſan be as ſecret as you can, Your maſter is fooliſh Iealous man, Though thou and I, doe meane no hurt or ill, Yet men take women in the worſt ſenſe ſtill, And feare of hornes, more griefe in harts hath bred Then wearing hornes doth hurt a cuckolds head.

A Shifters Rifling. MOſt louing friends on Thurſday next at night One maſter Needy, kindly doth inuite Some foure or three ſcore gallants (at the leaſt) To rifle forhis Nag, a paſſing beaſt, That he indeed did borrow of a friend, But being come vnto his iournies end, And finding it is no good husbands way, To be at horſe expence for oates and hay, Which idle ſtands and pampers in the ſtable, Beſides himſelfe vnwilling, purſe vnable, To be at further charges with the Iade, Will rifle him, his friend can be but paied As they ſhall afterwards agree of price, When he his horſe-play hath perform'd at dice. Each a Iacobus, come in any wiſe, His whole eſtate, vpon the bu'ſneſſe lies, His money wants and patience now perforce Depends vpon the credit of this horſe, Fayle not his rifeling therefore but come too't Or you ore-throw a gallant horſe and foote.

Quarell vpon debate. TWo chanc'd to fall at ſome diſſention late, And waxing weary of their fond debate VVherein (like fooles) law-money might be ſpent, Agree'd to put it to arbitterment, Each of an honeſt friend did make his choyſe, And bound themſelues to their awarding voyce, The arbitrators met to end the Iar, And argu'd matters in a heate ſo far, That knaue, and knaue betweene them both was delt, And ſo from words, the force of fiſts they felt, Their noſes bled, their eies were blacke and blew, As feirce a buffet fray, as ere you knew. At length thoſe twain they met for to make friends, Came in, to heare their matter how it ends, And what award they did intend to make. Quoth th'arbitrators; Maſters for your ſake, VVe met together, your debates to ſmother, And very ſoundly we haue beate each other, Now as your ſelues meane to be delt withall, Take vp our matter, ere we end your brall, VVe two that came your quarells to diſcuſſe, Doe now want two to ceſe debate for vs.

Hee hath little to care for, that hath little to loſe. VIllains by night into a Kytchin brake, Suppoſing braſſe, and pewter thence to take. The good-wife heard them, and her husband calls, Telling him theeues were breaking throgh the walls And therefore to preuent them will'd him riſe, Quoth he (kind wife) I am not ſo vnwiſe. To put my ſelfe in danger cauſeleſſe ſo, The night is darke as any pitch you know, And if they there can find out goods by night, VVhen thou and I, ſee nothing by day light, Ile ſay they coniure or doe vſe ſome charme, For there is nought to loſe can doe vs harme VVife let vs both laugh at them in our ſleeues, That with our empty kitchin we gull theeues.

An Engliſh Canniball. A Roreing boy, (of the late damned making) Sat moneyleſſe, alone, Tabacco taking, For he had thriu'd ſo well by candle-light, He loſt ten pound by eight a clocke at night, So curſing dice and Fortune for this wrong A ſawcy Fidler offers him a ſong, Ha, ſong quoth he? Sirra wilt ſell thy Boy? I haue an vſe for ſuch a kinde of toy. Why ſir (ſaid he) what will you put him too? Eate him (quoth he) that I intend to doe. Sad melancholy makes my ſences weary, And that ſame boy ſhall make me inward merry, The Fidler downe the ſtayres with all haſt hies, Quicke boy be gone (ſaies he) one of vs dies, The diuell's in him ſure, and he may fall, To eate vs vp aliue, fiddles and all, Some greedy plannet certainly doth ſtrike-him, He hath a hungry looke, I doe not like-him, Yet for his dyet we are moſt vnmeet, Becauſe through feare, there's neither of vs ſweet.

A Foole probatum. A Graue Phiſition, in the night at's booke, (That did dame Natures ſecrets ouer-looke,) Found (amongſt other things) this one worth hearing That a long beard was but a fooliſh wearing, With that he tooke the candle and the glaſſe, And went to ſee what ſize his owne beard was, Which as he viewd, and did ſtroking handle, He ſet the ſame on fire, by the candle Burning it ſodainly vnto his chin, Which had before downe to his middle bin, Now doe I finde (quoth he) t'is a true note That he which is long bearded (like a Gote) Is but a foole, my ſelfe can this proteſt, So ſet it downe in's booke Probatum eſt.

Ieſting turn'd to good earneſt. GEntlemen kindly in a Tauerne met, And as they all to ſupper downe were ſet, Came in a Ieſter, (vnto ſome there knowne,) Who at the table boldly maketh one, Where like an impudent audacious aſſe He turnes his fooliſh idle ſcoffes to paſſe, Not caring whom, nor how he did abuſe: But one amongſt the reſt, whom he did chuſe To play vpon, and in a vaine to run Did quiet put vp all, till ſupper done, Then riſing, came and tooke him by the hand, And ſaid familiar ſir, I vnderſtand The ripeneſſe of your wit to breake a ieſt It ſeemes your braine is buſily poſſeſt To vtter all your humour doth allow, And therefore for your boldneſſe with me now, Although I cannot breake a ieſt, I ſay, Yet I can breake your pate, take that I pray. Goe to the Barbers ſhop, and there reueale-it, And Ieſt a plaiſter out of him to heale-it.

The Horne Plague. INto a iealous paſſion one did fall, And kept his bed, not being ſick at all. A friend of his did come to ſee him, and The cauſe of his not being well demand. Tell me (quoth he) wher doe you feele your paine? In head or heart, where doth your griefe remaine? What member is it that is ill affected, That Phiſick may the better be directed? Truely (ſaid he) of head I not complaine, Nor doth my heart pertake of any paine. Nor lights nor lungs, nor kidnes do torment, But an ill Liuer is my diſcontent: And none can help it better then my wife, If ſhe would ſeeke to mend her queaniſh life; T'is this bad-Liuer doth the horne plague breed, Which day & night my Iealous thoughts doth feed.

The Tragedy of Smug the Smith. A Smith for fellony was apprehended, And being condem'd for hauing ſo offended, The towneſ-men, with a generall conſent Vnto the Iudge, with a petition went, Affirming that no ſmith did neare them dwell, And for his Art they could not ſpare him well, For he was good at edge-toole, locke and key, And for a Farrier, moſt rare man (quoth they.) The diſcreet Iudge, vnto the clownes reply'd, How ſhall the Law be iuſtly ſatisfied? A theefe that ſteales muſt dye therefore, that's flat. Oh ſir ſaid they, we haue a tricke for that: Two Weauers dwelling in our towne there are, And one of them we very well can ſpare, Let him be hang'd we very humbly craue, Nay hang them both ſo we the Smith may haue, The Iudge he ſmyled at their ſimple ieſt, And ſaid the Smith would ſerue the hang-man beſt.

Of two euills chuſe the leaſt. A Scriuener (about nine a clocke at night) Sat cloſe in's ſhop, and earneſtly did write, The villany abroad ſuſpecting not, While two obſeruing him, thus layd a plot, Quoth one to t'other, ſnatch thou off his hat: The which he did, and ran away with that: The Scriuener in haſt his ſhop forſakes, And for to ouertake him vndertakes, So while he follows him that runs away The other raſcall watching for his pray, Enters the ſhop as bold as bold might be, And takes his cloake and ſo away goes he. Scriuener comes backe, bare headed as he went, Miſſing his cloake was far worſe diſcontent, Quoth he what caſe am I brought in to night, Of hat and cloake being vncaſed quite? I will not cry Hamlet Reuenge my greeues, But I will call Hang-man Reuenge on theeues.

To the City and Suburbes. THere's not a night I fly throughout the yeare, Be it obſcurely darke, or Moone light cleere, But I behold abuſes things vnmeet, By ſuch as doe vntimely haunt the ſtreet. I heare a knocking at your City gates, By your good-fellowes, with their drunken pates: I note the places of polluted ſinne Where your kind wenches and their bawds put in. I know the houſes where baſe cheaters vſe, And note what Gulls (to worke vpon) they chuſe, I take a notice what your youth are doing, When you are faſt a ſleepe, how they are woing And ſteale together by ſome ſecret call, Like Piramus and Thisby through the wall, I ſee your prentiſes what pranks they play, And thing you neuer dreame on can bewray, But ile giue warning firſt, for reformation, Which if it fayle then of another faſhion Ile tell a tayle, ſome will be loth to heare, Therefore let theſe amend and ile forbeare.

The coniuring of a Spirit. A Seruing-man, his fellow did perſwade, To play the ſpirit and make a clowne afraid, Thou knowſt (quoth he) Tom of his manhood boaſts That he like butter-flies eſteemes all Ghoaſts, Thou ſhalt at night vnder a ſtayre-caſe ſtand Bound in a ſheet, the dogs chaine in thy hand, And as that way toward bed he doth prepare Thou like a Ghoaſt, moſt brauely ſhalt him ſcare. Content (quoth he) withall my heart agreed, I am the man that will performe the deed. Fitted at night, vnder the ſtayres he got, The other he reueales the bug-beare plot, Saying Tom take thou a cudgell, and rib roaſt him. Let me alone (quoth Tom) I will be ghoſt him. So comming to the place, the ſpirit groanes, Tom with his cudgell, well bebaſts his bones. Hold, hold, (quoth he) for Gods loue, (I proteſt) I am no diuell, but a ſpirit in ieſt, Vntye the ſheet, behold me by the light, Ile kill the rogue, that made me play the ſpirit.

The Gallant, and his brother Begger. A Stately gallant in his faſhions brauing, A begger followed, and almes went crauing Good gentleman (quoth he) ſome ſuccour grant, To a poore man in miſery and want. Sirrah (ſaid he) there is foure farthings take them, Oh (quoth the begger) all men now forſake them, Kind gentleman, afford to your poore brother, Some ſiluer peece will paſſe from one t'another. Brother (ſaid he) how came that neereneſſe in? I pray which way are we become of kin? Sir (quoth the begger) brothers we may call Cauſe Adam was the father of vs all, Sure brother begger, it is true (quoth he) And this is all the hurt I wiſh to thee All Adams ſonnes aliue vnder the Sunne, Would giue their brother but as I haue done, Yet then I feare the Prouerb would proue right A begger ſet on horſe-backe nere would light.

A mad voyage for old Moones. A Marchant loſt by ſhipwracke all he had, And therevpon he fell diſtracted mad, But in the humors of his franticke fits, He plotted matters did amaze good wits, As to haue plowes to goe with canuas ſayles, And meate well boyld, and ſod in wooden payles, With many matters he did ſtrange, proiect, Whereof a number came to ſome effect, But a rare voyage came at laſt in's head, Should ſtand the commonwealth in wondrous ſtead Onely one trade he would vndoe thereby, (The Chaundlers he did hate exceedingly) And therefore (quoth he) to his friends, you know That euery moneth there doth a new Moone grow, And then the old giues place to that, you ſee, Ile make a voyage, where the old ones be, (You cannot be in th'Indies halfe ſo ſoone,) Then will I ſell to euery man a Moone, And that ſhall giue him all his life time light And thus ile begger all the Chaundlers quite.

Miſtaking in the darke. CHaucer, amongſt his merry ieſts doth write, Of one that went a woing in the night, It being extreame darke, as darke might be, Vnto the widdowes window commeth he, And there intreats her fauour for a kiſſe, And ſhe affords him, ſuch a one as t'is, Opening the caſement, to her clowniſh friend She turnes out to his lips her lower end, Which paſt away for currant in the darke, A better man might ſo miſtake the marke, And like to him haue goe away with thankes. Well this was one of Chaucers widdows pranks. But we haue diuers night men now a daies, That in the darke become ſuch wilfull ſtraies, When they ſhould goe vnto their wiues chaſt bed, Doe get vnto the maids, in miſtris ſtead. And ſo the auntient prouerbe doth allow, That Ioanes as good, as is my lady now, But he whoſe honeſt wife cannot ſuffice him I wiſh the Surgeons tooles might circumciſe him.

The Conſtable cannot doe it. A Warrant to a Conſtable was ſent, Of ſpeciall charge, diſorder to preuent, (Which was ſuſpected from men ill inclind,) All thoſe he after ten a clocke did finde, He ſhould diſarme of weapons they did beare, Not ſuffring any one a dagger weare. A humorous odd fellow heard the ſame, And to the conſtable he ſerious came, Sir (quoth he) hearing you haue ouerſight For to diſarme all weaponed men by night, I doe intreate you, for your office ſake, A rapire and a dagger you would take From one that's armed, and a man I feare A Broker, that my weapons now doth beare, If Load-ſtone-like by you they could be drawne, From, (Day's broke,) that hath them now in pawne, My credit (ſir) would be ſharp ſet againe, Which now lies deſperate ruſting in Long-lane.

Miſtris Newfangle. HOw am I plagued with a ſcuruy maid? In all I doe command her, diſobay'd, To no good quallity ſhe doth inclyne But ſhe's my husbands ſeruant none of mine, It is his will to haue her in the houſe, But if I find his Flea, or body Lowſe, Betweene my ſheets, (as I doe ſhrewd ſuſpect,) Ile haue their itch killd in Bridewell direct. Set her to ſtarch a band, (I vow tis true) She euer ſpoyles the ſame with too much blew. Laſt night ſhe ſeru'd me, a moſt roguiſh tricke, Fell faſt a ſleep, and burnd my poking ſticke, Nay heard you of a verier queane then this, She layd my Fan where rats and miſe did piſſe. And calling haſty for my Maske and Fan, She was at her Tabacco with our man, And brought it to me ſmelling ſo of ſmoke, That almoſt for to ſound it did prouoke. If that it had not fortuned ſo well, That I had on my perfum'd gloues to ſmell: Pray ſpeake, had you this vexer and abuſer, And were thus plagu'd as I, how would you vſe her?

The valiant Butcher. FOure theeues, that all the day had bin to take, At night betweene themſelues would euen make Within a wood vnder a hedge on ground They ſpred a cloake, and ſat about it round, And there their monyes equally deuide Into foure parts, laying to each mans ſide His ſhare according to th'amounting ſum, Thus as they ſat, a Butcher chaunc'd to come A long the hedge, who ſound of voyce did heare, And prying ſoftly through, ſaw money there, Bouldly reſolu'd to ſhare it from them all: Breakes through with his ſtaffe and lowd did call, Heere maſters heere, the villains are we looke, Come through quick, with that the theeues forſook Money and cloake, and take themſelues to run, That they the daunger of their necks might ſhun, Conſtrain'd by guilt and put to flight by feare. As if a hundred armed men were there, The Butcher tooke the money and the clooke, And to himſelfe in ioyfull manner ſpoke, Heer's the beſt match, that I haue made of long As ſpeech is vs'd, Ile pocket vp thi • 〈…〉

The Concluſion. ALL you vſurpers of the nights darke houres, (As though thoſe times, were for abuſes yours) Drunke in the Tauerns, making Ale-houſe ſcores, And in Tabacco ſhops, ſmoking like-Moores, You that with Fox and Wolfe, by night doe pray, For that muſt feed your theeuiſh throats next day, You that are inmates to the diuells Inns, Baudy houſes. Fild with corruption of the rotten ſinnes, You in a word, that are moſt vile, moſt baſe, And liue like men that haue renounced grace, When you doe act the diuells reuells thus (More blacke of ſoules, then blackeſt Crow of vs) If you but ſaw what vgly feinds of Hell, Imbrace you, for your pleaſing them ſo well, And how about you numberles they ſwarme, And with the Seauen deadly ſinnes doe charme Your ſinfull luſts, to draw you downe to Hell, You would reforme your waies, with doing well, Arming your ſelues againſt the diuell ſtronger, And ſo be children of the night no longer.

FINIS.