ESSAYES and CHARACTERS. IRONICALL, AND INSTRVCTIVE.

The second impression.

With a new Satyre in defence of Common Law and Lawyers: Mixt with reproofe against their common Enemy.

With many new Characters, & diuers other things added; & euery thing amended.

Expedit castigare, maledicere non licet ne (que) iuuat: affert enim maledictum vel malidi­centi paenitentiam vel vituperationem: Iul: Scalig: de Subt [...]l▪

By IOHN STEPHENS the yonger, of Lincolnes Inne, Gent.

LONDON,

Printed by E: Allde for Phillip Knight, and are to be solde at his shop in Chancery lane ouer against the Rowles. 1615.

To the worthy and wor­shipfull my honored friend, Thomas Turnor Esquire &c.

SIR,

YOV did accept the for­mer impression; which, as my second thoughts haue taught me, was a most idle creature; a thing only to be respected in your dispen­sation. Diligence and better knowledge, haue made it a much better volumne: you may peruse it therefore a­gaine I must assure you, with­out losse of time. If you re­pent a second reading, let me not be reputed what I am

Your truly louing I. S.

To the Reader.

THou art I presume wise enough (whatsoeuer thou art) not to be­leeue me, if I should largely seeme to praise my selfe; or to reuile iny poore detractor, who is like the stoe­worme, venomous, but blinde: conti­nue thy iust vnbeleefe, for dealers in this kinde, be readie to out­braue and couzen thee. Nor hast thou reason to allow me more credit then thoso wordlings: for I confesse & am not sorry, thou and I are yet scarce [...]: Trust me not therefore further then thou maist discreetly; and then perhaps thou wil [...] acknowledge, that if (before) this worke was reasonable, it may be now thought vnamendable: howsoeuer if any thinkes I needed helpe to meditate such a trifling labor, I thanke him for his en­uious good opinion: for I can not wish to be more well commended.

To the namelesse Rayler: who hath lenghthened his Excellent Actor, a most needy Caracter following the wife with a peece of Ingenium nempe quòd olet can [...]os mores, et con­stat de pelle sine corpore. I meane a wit which smells of the Curr, and hath no bo­dy but a skin. dog-skin witt; dressed ouer with oyle of sweaty Post­horse.

VNusquisque turpis & inscius & ventosus, maleuolae ac rudi suae calumniae fretus, alieni nominis rui­na, gradum sibi facit ad suam gloriam.

Sed,—Ille per extentum funem mihi posse videtur
Ire Poeta, meum quipectus inaniter angit
Irritat, mulcet, falsis terrroribus implet

Vt magus:—

You haue (I know not vpon what ac­quaintance) beene bolde with me; and if I said impudent, your tearme of imi­tating would excuse me: pre▪ thee if thou be'st honest, or a Scholler, be modest like­wise and accuse thy selfe: I would be loath to blame thee and loose my labor, vnlesse I knowe thy nature; which would perhaps neither thanke me nor amend. Nor did I (as one affected vnto sa [...]cie [Page] rayling) admit a friends Saytre, but to informe the world that one mans credit should be more esteemed, then the most generally and worthyly contemned baser sort of Players: and let discretion teach thee, that all the writers of this age, must I doe not meane the vitious imi­tation that prouokes Horace to this repre­hension. Quod si pallerem ca­su biberent exangue cu­minum, O [...] ­mitatores ser vum pecu [...], vt m [...]hi sape Bilem, sape i [...] cum vestri mouere tu­multus. lib. 1 Epist. 19. imitate; though some endeauour it, sonse doe it without a meaning: the last, was mine if any; hut hetherto I know not any. My comfort is; I cannot walke into the Citty, without being rub­bed by some uncleanely person; much lesse then can my booke trauaile in the worlds compasse, and not be troden vpon by such a rude boistrous Knaue as thou: but as, being rubbed I would not wil­lingly rubbe againe; so was I not willing that my bo [...]ke should resist thee; but rise againe, and scorne thee: for all thy at­tributes sauour of madnes and of venome. And for their sakes, I giue the Poets laughters to thy stumbling and most wit-lesse language.

dij te Damasippe deae (que)
Ob maledictum mox donēt tonsore; sed vnde
Tam bene ne nosti? postquam omnis restua, ludos
Ad medios fracta est, aliena negotia curas
Excussus proprijs.
Hor: Saty: 3. lib. 2.
[Page]

Marti: lib: 5. Epig: 61. Ad Detractorem.

ALlatres licet vsque nos & vsque,
Et gannitibus improbis laceflas:
Certum est hanc tibi p [...]negare sama [...],
Olim quam petis in meis libellis,
Qualiscun (que) legaris vt per orbem.
Nam tecur aliquis sciat fuis [...]e?
Ignotus pereas miser necesse est.
Non de [...]runt tamen hac in vrbe forsan
Vnus, velduo, tresue, quatuor ve,
Pellem rodere qui velint cani [...]am:
Nos hac a scab [...]e teneamus vngues.

To the same Detractor.

You may barke lowd against vs & prouoke,
Vs, with il-fauourd snarlings till you choke:
Yet questionles the world will dare d [...]ny,
The fame you couet in our Poetry:
Yes though your libels be dispered abroad:
For why should any know that such a Toad,
Hath had a being? thy detested graue,
Will take thee vnknowne, & a p [...]teous k [...]aue.
Yet will this Citty l [...]nd the willing power
Of one, of two, of three, perhaps of [...]ower▪
Who will not faile thy currish hide to [...],
Though I doe thee a mangy [...] s [...]aue forbea [...]e.

In eundem.

Quaenam te mala mens miselle
Rauide
Agit praecipitem in meas nugas?
Quia deus tibi n [...]n bene aduocatus,
Vecordem parat exitare rixam?
An vt pervenias in ora vulgi?
Quid vis? qualibet esse noius optas?
Eris: quandoquidem oratio tua est
Plena veneni et pestilentiae.
Catullus.

THus much may perswade thie (Rea­der) that detractors, nay, Detract­ors in the like kinde of impudence, haue among the best Auncients beene a com­mon fortune: and therefore they be not indeed worth a minutes anguish.

I. S.

A Friends Inuitation: no Flatterers Encomion.

VVHen many are inuited to a Feast,
Though the inuiter doth not know his guest,
And therefore cannot well prouide in hast,
One dish so curious, as may please each tast:
Yet if this Host hath such a carefull minde,
As that he will, for each mans stomacke, finde
A seu'rall meat; and so prouide with care,
Good hous-roome, harty welcome, & good fare.
Shall we condemne his liberall act and loue,
If thank-lesse Inuitants the same disproue?
Some (peraduenture) doth one dish there see,
Which with his nature doth not well agree:
Some other may perchance dislike the feast,
Because it is not all what he likes best.
And so with diuers censures they doe take,
Due praise from him who did the banquet make:
Which may discourage him that doth intend,
Such carefull cost another time to spend.
Yet (worthy Author) let not this dismay
Thee, to goe forward in that vertuous way
Thou hast propounded; nor let that be lost
Which is so rare. Thou art a noble Host,
And cause thou knowest not the mindes of those,
That shall receiue thy feast, thou dost dispose
[Page]Of things so fitly, that all here may finde,
Diuers prouisions for each Readers minde.
What if perchance some surfet at thy feast,
Because they cannot easily digest
Some vicious quallity, which raignes so rife
In vicious minds (made known by their lewd life)
So rife; as you the danger haue exprest,
That knowing it, they might the vice detest?
Pitty their weaknes then, seeing thou dost tell,
Nothing to poyson humor, but expell.
What if some others will thy feast abuse,
Because it is of seu'rall kindes? resuse
The Founders dignitie, because tis knowne
Mens tastes and palates onely be their owne?
Thou mad'st it not for onely one mans sake,
But all the worlds, if all of it partake.
Take resolution therefore to thy minde;
Adde winges vnto thy fainting courage; binde
All thy due strength together; to prouide
So rare a Banquet; which may long abide
To all mens profit, and the founders praise.
He therefore doth inuite the guests that sayes
This is a Noble Feast; and wisheth this,
That he, which of this feast doth iudge amisse
May (if he wants what is in this combin'd)
Seeke to atchieue the same, but neuer finde.
ANTHO. CRO [...]YES. of Grayes Inne Gent.

To the nameles Author of a late Character entituled, an Excellent Actor, following the Wise.

Your bolt so soone shott against my freind this Author▪ is now returned into your scandalous throate; beaten backe from one too strongly fortifide, for such cholerick distraction to preuaile with: he knowing therefore the manifest disgrace, that might be noted, if he should swagger in the darke with one whom nei­ther he or any man (as he thinkes) euer knew; hath onely lighted a double torch (fearing least one, were hardly light e­nough) to finde the Person of such an obscure vagrant: nor must you further looke that he will grace you with incoun­ter, for (vpon my knowledge) he was contented to reward you with the Poets Maxime

Istic est thesaurus stultis in lingua sit us
Plautus in Poenul.
Vt quaestui habeant male loqui melioribus.

THis haue you confirmed in your vn­lickt Character, which like the Rats on the banks of Nilus, hath only a fore­part, [Page] and that deformed; the taile and hinder-parts be [...] mu [...]de: Wherein hoping to mend your credit by anothers losse, you haue presented to the sight of e­uery honest Reader your own ignorance, and malicious folly: These two, your onely darlings, like common prostitutes, haue sett vp a Vaulting-schoole in your decayed scull; and hanged their bills vp to drawe customers: But as they both haue beene the deadly foes to learning, so are they the most beloued minions to pet­ty Pamphleters: witnes your ignorant mistaking of approued and authorised Actors for counterfeit Runagates, or country Players, inueighed against by the Characterist: as also your deroga­ting from his industruous Labour, ap­plauded by the best iudgements.

In regard whereof, take this which followes,

Iras [...]i nostro non debes▪ Cerdo libello
Mart. lib 3 E [...]i. 94
Ars tua, non vita est carmine laesa m [...]o.
VVAs it or Enuy, or the hope of coyne,
Or did thy Sister Furies thee enioyne
With thine infectious breath to dimme the hue
Of this vnspotted Mirror, whose bright view
[Page]Dazells thy feeble eyes? or is thy sight
(Fittest to looke on dunghills) by true light
so much obscured that thou canst not see
The Sunne at noon-time shine; vnlesse there be
Thy cloudy spirits interpos'd; and so
It proues vnfaire whilst thou vnfit to know?
Canst thou forswear't, and thinke thy booke shall help?
Or that thy Character (the purblind whelp
Of a leane bitch) can licke away these markes
From thee and thy maintaining fellow sharkes?
Noe, noe: who lookes, if not (as thou art) blind,
Vpon thy excellent Actor, may there finde,
In ragged cloathes thy pouerty of purse,
Of minde and credit thy deserued curse:
And sweare most credibly that all was penn'd
Them to protect from shame, who thee defend
From want: Alas, we know need can excuse
The trade of begging, hangmen, or the stewes,
And why not common Players? not those men
Whose soules did keepe in R [...]scius, and then
Left Rome to visit vs; beleeuing here
Men should and doe excell his action farre:
These wee account as much as you; who try
With a Rauens voice, to'approue their melody,
And mar their happy fame, which few controule.
wherfore then do you bark? could not your foule
Vntutord muse dwell in the suburbs still
[Page](Your witts best subiect) or your buzzard quill
Stoope at your wonted carrion game; but flye
To pitch aboue an Eagles aery?
Detract you cannot; for thinges Simply good,
Loose not their natures, though they be with­stood
By deep or baser wits: nay all should say,
Thinges must be excellent because that they
Tasted and did distaste: we know the Kite
Affecteth stench, and Owles abhor the light:
Deep witts (through enuy) others fame disproue:
Base witts by kinde doe base thinges onely loue.
I'le then not wonder that the Players friend,
I meane this hierling can boldly spend
His soggy breath to blow away the curse
Of Statute law: alas a wicked purse
Puts strength into his lungs. I thinke him blind,
Who cannot see the Kings high-way, nor finde
One sparke of reason that may make him iudge,
Betwixt rare beauties and a kitchin-drudge:
And yet hee's blameles: they he not contrould
That praise cheape counters and reiect fine gold
But rather laught at: Fooles and children may
Before best maskes pre [...]erre a Puppet play.
I must be plaine and will: it is no sinne
To turne againe when others doe beginne.
W [...]r't thou an Eagle, yet the harmelesse Swan
Dares to incounter thee who first began
To meddle and prouoke: let enuy burst,
[Page]We can defend our selfe, offend none first.
Wilt thou then know thy selfe? for surely yet
The little soule thou hast doth poorely sit
In her halfe ruin'd cell; and through thine eyes
False spectacles, she louely trueth espyes
In faigned shapes: beleeuing it to be
Such as it seemes to her, who cannot see
Thinges truely nor her selfe, but proudly blinde
Iudges thinges base, by basenes of her minde.
You are the cuttle-fish whose inky gall
Spewd into purest waters, turnes them all
To the same couler, thinking to escape
The searchers eyes, or hide your monstrous shape:
Such a most busie Daw did seeme to dresse
My
I am heere enforced to claime 3 Characters following the Wife: viz: the T [...]nker, the Apparatour, and Almanack-maker, that I may signify the ridiculous and bold dealing of an vnknowne bot [...]her: But I neede make no question what he is: for his hackney similitudes discouer him to be the Rayler aboue mentioned whosoeuer that rayler be.
Characters (vnknowne) with saucinesse.
Couldst thou licke Homers vomit; or else theirs
whose heauenly raptures blesse our modern yeres
And those to come shall blesse; your name might liue
In Poets happines, and well suruiue
The workes of brasse and marble: but I know
You cannot be so bless'd: for those that draw
Plenty of water from the Ocean store
Empty not it; yet haue themselues the more,
[Page]which they may cal their own: but they that take
From puddles or dull Frog-pits, neuer make
Themselues nor others happy: all their toyle
Is like the gleaning of a barren soyle;
Both voide of gaine and credit: this apply
Vnto your selfe, whose witts best treasury
Lyes in Don Quixot, Amadis de Gaule,
Huon of Burdeaux, and those other small
Slight Pamphleters; vpon whose bruised winges
Thy feeble muse doth ride, and slowly singes
Her tuneles dreames: and labours to obtaine,
The bawdy treasure of Mimnernus braine:
Whose trauaile was in lust-bred plotts; and so
Thou maist excell good Homer, who did know
Nothing but that was honest. I might proue
This if I knew thy dealing by the loue
Thou hast composd; where men might read thy shame
(Thou being disouered) in the Deuills name.
And what of that sayst thou? This I inferre,
Such as the shadowes such the bodyes are.
And sure I thinke (by thee) that soules doe passe,
From one to another as [...]
Did teach his times: for who can heare you name
Hackney [...] so o [...]t but thinkes your essence came
Out of a stall [...]on: or indeed perchaunce,
A Hackn [...]y was thy▪ whole inheritance.
For you perhaps [...] that any Asse,
Or stumbling Coach-horse your soules lodging was
[Page]Yet from those rotten carkasses might spring,
Your waspish hornet braines, which buzze and sting
To your destruction; if you aske me why?
When Hornets sting they loose their stings & dy:
Which I desire not; but would haue t [...]ee liue
To raile at vertuous acts, and so to giue
Good vertues lustre: seing enuy still
Waites on the best deserts to her owne ill.
But, for your selfe learne this, let not you [...] [...]
Strike at the slint againe, which can withstand
Your malice without harme, and to your face
Returne contempt the brand of your disgrace:
Whilst he doth sit vnmou'd, whose constant mind
(Armd against Obloquy) with that weake winde
Cannot be shaken: for himselfe doth marke,
That Doggs for custome not for fierenes barke:
These any Foot-boy kicks and therefore hee
Passing them by with scorne, doth pitty thee:
For being of their nature mute at noone
Thou da [...]st at midnight barke against the moone:
Where maist thou euer barke, and no man heare
But to returne the like: And mayst thou beare
With griefe more slanders then thou canst inuent
Or e're did practise yet or canst preuent.
Mayst thou be matc [...]t with Enuy▪ and defend
Scorne towards that which all besides commend:
And may that scorne so worke vpon thy sence
That neither suffering nor impudence
[Page]May teach the cure: or being ouerworne
With hope of cure may merrit greater scorne.
If, not too late, let all thy labours bee
Contemnd by vpright iudgements, and thy fee
So hardly earn'd not paid. May thy rude quill
Be alwaies mercenary, and write still
That which no man will reade; vnlesse to see
Thine ignorance, and then to laugh at thee.
And mayst thou liue to feele this, and then grone
Because, tis soe, yet cannot helpe: and none
May rescue thee, till your checkt conscience cry
This this I haue deserued; then pine and dye.
Mart: lib: 10:Epig: 5.
Et cùm fateri furia iusserit verum
Prodente clames conscientia, scripsi:
I: COCKE.

An Epigram to my friend the Author, of his namelesse Detractor before mentioned.

Fastus disdaines thy worke, because not thine,
But meerly drawne forth by anothers line:
Thou imitat'st he saith: well thou mightstone:
For thou canst imitated be by none:
Though I dare take thy word, yea'tis well known
ther's nothing heer but thou maist call thine own.
For (like a common theefe) the sneaking elfe
Hath slander [...] thee, that he might saue himselfe.

Aliud Epigramma ad Authorem delibro suo epulo assimulato.

Why should'st thou striue or study to vpraise
A labour, how to work some Welchmens praise?
Those that haue iudgement must commend thy skill:
Regard not then though others say'tis ill:
If amongst many they dislike thy Feast,
A bitt of cheese will helpe them to digest.

Aliud ad eundem de detractore suo anonymo praedicto.

For beare my freind to write against that man
A sharpe iambick, who hath wrong'd thy name:
Thou canst not right thy selfe; for he hath none:
Nor can haue, if he be the peoples Sonne.
GEO: GREENE of Lin­colns Inne Gentleman.

Three Satyricall Essayes of Cowardlinesse.

ESSAY. I.

FEare to resist good vertues common foe,
And feare to loose some lucre, which doth
By a continued practise; makes our fate
Banish (with single combates) all the hate, grow:
Which broad abuses challenge of our spleene.
For who in Vertues troope was euer seene,
who did (through goodnes) against passions fight
Without the publike name of hipocrite?
Vaine-glorious, Malapert, Precise, Deuout,
Be tearmes which threaten those that goe about
To stand in opposition of our times
With true defiance, or Satyricke rimes.
Cowards they be, branded among the worst,
Who (through contempt of Atheisme) neuer durst
Crowd neere a Princes elbow, to suggest
Smooth t [...]les, with glosse, or Enuy well addrest.
These be the noted Cowards of our age,
Who be not able to inst [...]uct the Stage
With matter of new shamelesse impudence:
Who cannot almost laugh at innocence;
[Page 2]And purchase high preferment by the wayes,
Which had beene horrible in Nero's dayes.
They are the shamefull Cowards, who contemne
Vices of State, or cannot slatter them:
Who can refuse aduantage; or deny
Villanous courses, where they doe [...]spy
Some little fortune to inrich their chest:
Though they become vncomfortably blest.
Wee still account these Cowards, who forbeare
(Being possess'd with a Religious feare)
To slip occasion, when they might erect
Hornes of disgrace; or when they doe neglect
The violation of a Virgins bed
With promise to requite her Mayden-head.
Basely low-minded we esteeme that man,
Who cannot swagger well, (or if he can)
Who doth not with implacable desire,
Follow reuenge like a consuming fire.
Extortious Rascalls, when they are alone,
Be think how closely they haue pick'd each bone;
Nay with a frolicke humour they will brag,
How blanck they left their empty Suters bag.
Which dealings if they did not giue delight;
Or not refresh their meetings; in dispight
They would accounted be both weake, vnwise,
And like a timorous Coward too precise.
Your handsom-bodied youth (whose comly [...]ace
May challenge all the store of Natures grace)
[Page 3]If, when a lustfull Lady doth inuite,
By some lasciuious trickes his deere delight,
If then he doth abhorre such Wanton ioy,
Who is not almost ready to destroy,
Ciuility with curses, when he heares
The tale recited? blaming much his yeares,
Or modest weaknes, and with cheeks full blowne
Each man will wish the case had been his owne.
Graue holy men, whose habite will imply
Nothing but honest zeale, or sanctity,
Nay so vprighteous will their Actions seeme,
As you their thoughts Religion will esteeme.
Yet these All-sacred-men, who daily giue
Such [...]owes, would think themselues vnfit to liue
If they were Artlesse in the slattering vice,
Euen to deuoure a treble Benefice.
None (for her owne sake) fauours innocence.
Charity layes a side her Conscience,
And lookes vpon the sraile commodity
Of monstrous bargaines with a couetous eye:
And now the name of Generosity,
Of noble Cariage, or braue Dignity;
Keepe such a common skirmish in our bloud;
As we direct the measure of Thinges good,
By that, which reputation of Estate,
Glory of rumour, or the present rate
Of Sauing [...] doth best admit.
We doe imploy materials of wit,
[Page 4]Knowledge Occasion, Labour, Dignity,
Among our spirits of Audacity.
Nor in our gain-full proiects do we care
For what is p [...]ous, but for what we da [...]e.
Shop-keepers would be thought extreamly dull,
Worse then a simple or phantastique gull,
If when they meet a nouice or a man
Of good experience, they neither can
Couzen the buyer with protested loue,
Nor with perswading fables him remoue.
They would be threatned I thinke in despight,
Among their fellow-cheaters (who delight
As much in crafty tearmes as in the ware)
If they should any circumuention spare.
They haue a tricke to whisper once or twise
And l [...]aue their voice when they abate the price,
Seeming to tell you they hau [...] bargaind so,
As they abhor to let the neighbours know;
When stuffe and price doe lesse in worth agree
Then place and meritts where sweet minions bee.
Let neuer truth protect me if my witts
Doe not halfe stagger whilst my fancy sitts
Reuoluing their most licenc'd couzenage:
They make it the whole practise of their age
To sell and to deceiue. The fatherles
(Who had a little stocke and craftines)
Haue by the Deuils meanes aduanc'd their state
Quickly and richly in a twelue yeares date:
[Page 5]When true Diuines and honest Lawyers may,
After more study shut their bookes and play:
So much more wealthy is it to perswade
Youth in a seruile then a noble trade.
Will you bele [...]ue me? They haue secret charmes
By which they doe arise to wealth and Armes:
As deepe Magicians with a triple sound
Raise wind [...] Spirits vp aboue the ground,
So Citty Tradesmen haue the same deuise
To eleuate themselues: stuffe, couller, prise,
Be made the triple meanes which briefly can
T [...]ansforme a Woodcock to an Alderman.
But one among the rest (more wisely bent
Then to approue the way which others went)
Insinuates his thrid with silken lace:
Both which together gott a Mayors place:
Which did reueal [...] him then, to be indeede
A thridden fellow in a silken weede.
Thus doe they prosper, and when worth dispaires
Breed a slight fortune for consuming heires:
And among secrets which they closely learne,
They thinke them best which onely they discern:
As if whilst they to hell be going on
It were some ioy not to be look'd vpon:
Thinking (as all men thinke) that few haue been
Damned indeed, if they were damnd vnseene
Esteeming death, and horror, sermon-toyes;
If they doe softly come without much noyse.
[Page 6]Shall vsury be thought a godlesse gaine:
Because it helpes men with such little paine.
And shall not lazy cheating trades be thought
Alike vnlawfull, being often bought
With little times expence: they doe discharge
All their Professions faculty at large,
If they can walke about their wealthy shopps,
In sober gownes and very hansome slopps,
Now looking on their Wiues, then on the ware,
Casting about betimes how to prepare
A place of worship for his infant Sonne:
Else meditating how they may out-runn
Their neighbors fortune; or beguile the Trust
Of them who raisd their fortunes from the dust:
How they may bankroupt seeme, perhaps they
Or of a merry voyage: or they drinke,
And beat their seruants madly: o [...] they sleepe: thinke:
Or a high valued plentious feast they keepe:
Or if they thinke how they may busie bee,
They doe reuolue their sin-full booke, and see
Where they may best amend the figures weight,
And turne a twenty-sixe to twenty-eight.
Then tell me some that know, doth common vse
A worse or easier gaine then this produce?
I will indeed consent; vsurious coyne
Is not with labour taught, how to purloyne,
So much as the deceipt of narrow yards.
An Vsurer much busie time discards
[Page 7]Which might instruct his knowledge to receiue
A much more impious gaine, and more deceiue.
He might be busie as our Tra [...]esmen bee,
To c [...]eate or l [...]e: till when I must agree
Their the [...]uish busines which they reckon best,
Excells the labor of rich interest.
But I am largely clamorous, and shall
Among the titles of inuectiues fall:
For now the times corrupted language giues
New names to whatsoeuer is or liues
Not suting with our humors and intent:
An honest courage we call impudent:
And impudence hath lately tooke the name
Of thr [...]uing wit, which doth obtaine best fame.
Good humble men, who haue sincerely layd
Saluation for their hope, we call Afraid.
But if you will vouchsafe a patient eare,
You shall perceiue, men impious haue most feare.

ESSAY. II.

MAny aspiring fellowes you may see,
Who after they and fortune do [...] agree,
Come (by briefe windings) to be men elect;
Through priuate means, heauen knows how indi­rect
To flourish quickly and aduance their head,
As if they tooke possession from the dead:
[Page 8]When all the Heralds neuer could deuise,
From whence the fathers kindred might arise.
Though many call them Nephew, Brothers sonne,
(because a thriftie garment they haue spun)
Who (else) with publick shame had bin disgrac'd,
And all the titles of their loue de [...]ac'd:
But now they flourish and with honour swell,
Whose poore beginnings euery Groome can tel:
As if a newfound Whittingtons rare Cat
Come to extoll their birth-rights abou [...] that
Which nature once intended: [...] be men
Who thinke not of a [...] yeelding Ten:
They turne base copp [...]r i [...]to perfect gold:
Counterfeit couzening wares be wisely sold.
Men be perswaded well of prosperous fa [...]e,
Giuing much credite to a crafty pate,
But if these cowards durst discouer all,
Both how they did their high estates install,
How they began to make a league with hell,
Or how they did in damned plots excell,
Their very liues alone, if they were dead,
Would make another work for [...].
Alas they dare not; these be cowards right,
For whose abortiue deedes the blackest night,
Is neuer blacke enough, nor can [...];
Their shame, which lewd posterities [...]eueale,
Fine hansome outsides who so highly stand
On the reputed courage of their hand;
[Page 9]Who keepe their Pages with such spacious gard:
(Scorning to play without a coated card)
Who keep a large Retinue, or erect
Buildings; in which they neuer can expect
To dwell, with credit of their famish'd stock;
Or to maintaine the vse of one good lock.
These notwithstanding to augment their glosse,
And tu [...]n some braue expences into drosse,
Will be the seruile debtors to a slaue,
Who hath no remedy, but to depraue
Their fortunes with inuectiue impudence,
Or make Petitions to desray expence.
And yet these mighty V [...]starts cannot dare,
To pay a single Crosse: Except they spare
Thir pompe; which giues a lustre in the Court,
And in the Citty makes aboundant sport.
Spend-thrisis, and Gallants likewise (who haue lands
Which beare all Saffron for their yellow bands)
Those which haue onely complement, & whoope
In Tauernes; may attend the former troope.
Those that dare challenge any man of Armes,
And seeme to beare about them valiant charmes:
Belching vnciuill Enuy, in the face
Of him that meekely contradicts their grace;
As if they carried vengeance in their iawes,
Or executions of the Statute-lawes.
Those men if strictly challeng'd, quake with feare
Contriuing basely how they may forbeare:
[Page 10]And (leauing then a while their pompous pride)
They best bethinke, how they may closely hide
Their contumacious heads with priuiledge:
For when the slat-cap tradesinan doth alledge
Forfeit of payments (and because at length
His wife, & so the world, doth know his strength)
When he procures a Champion to demand
The noble answere of his debtors hand:
And dares my valiant Swaggerer to meet,
His lawfull challenge in the open street;
He, rather then he will prouoke the strise,
Sues by petition to my plaintifes wife:
Who if she doth not very much forget,
Takes downe the quarrell, and so payes the debt.
Another sort of cowards you may see,
(Transcending these in a more base degree)
Who to pre [...]erue aduancement, or vphold
Their Families, (without expence of gold)
Will, in promis [...]uous manner, congregate
Amongst good men, who blockish Papisme hate;
Nay, they will be attentiue in the Church,
(All to avoyd the law, and penall lurch)
They will con-niue at holy arguments,
And often beare a [...] Parliaments:
They will agree to co [...]stituted lawes,
Which almost [...] to their kin [...]dome drawes,
(All notwithst [...]nding) they directly [...]are
Hope to be sau'd, as [...] Papists are;
[Page 11]Expecting on some opportunity,
When they may make a traytrous vnity:
For all the truth which can excuse their fate,
Is, that they finely can equiuocate:
A Cowards doctrine, full of shameles feare,
Insuses ioy to their misguided [...]are:
And yet no equall iustice them controules,
Because they haue a Curtaine to their soules.
Corrupted Officers, the common cuise
Of publike Law, doe stuffe their gaping purse
With wrongfull fees, and grow extreamly fat
By their delicious trickes, or lying squat
Vp to the eares in pleasant Alchymie:
If these men durst bewray their infamy,
And bring their holyest actions into light,
The day would runne to a pr [...]digious night.
New fees created are, and then the match
Must something take to frame a briefe dispatch:
Informers be preuented by a feate,
Which quallifies indeed their boystrous heate,
Although vniustly: Clearkes and other knaues
(Who with their gennerous ruffs the Court out-braues)
Will take a pention, or a quarter fee,
To make their friend from information free;
And (to preuent the mischiefe) will declare
How other bills already doe not spare
To certifie the Court a day before
Of that, for which the Plaintiff [...] doth implore:
[Page 12]So false and fained policie doth cracke
The crafty meanings that pre-caution lacke:
Yet still they gape, and say they cannot saue
The many pounds which they so freely gaue
To purchase ten times more: for they intend
Onely on priuate meanings to depend.
That waking sighted Run-away, the Hare,
(Which is preseru'd by a continuall feare)
Cannot (by this) protect her innocence,
So much as Officers their lewd pretence:
The Fox an auncient Hierogliphicke was,
In Fryers robes to shew the common passe
Of smooth hypocrisie, and Church-mens craft;
But now a formall Gowne may serue to wast
This badge among our prowling Officers,
Which Name and Habite rightuously inferres
As much compacted Villany, as meetes
Among the Stewards of rich Countrey Lee [...]es:
Both Couzen with as great conformity,
As if they held some new fraternity:
Both be so practysd in good Uertues scorne,
As if Atturnies had directly sworne
To match the Officer, and powle the [...]leece,
As if they both consisted of one peece.
They both insinuate their sweating paines,
Their common payment: each (alike) constraine [...]
The hunger-bitten Client to disburse,
Till they haue le [...]t his hopes euen with his purse,
[Page 13]Yet will you dare to say those men exact?
No; that were brainlesse: they so well compact
Their polliticke inuentions, that the fault
Of asking more then due, creepes to the vault
Of Clearks dull ignorance to purchase leaue,
When their discouered proiects doe deceiue
A Substitute in Courts may rather take
All wrested fees, that glosse may thereby make
The Steward seeme lesse culpable in vice,
When Substitutes are taught by his aduice:
And if some one their cousenage doth betray,
The Substitute can easily slinke away.
My baudy Proctor likewise, who presumes
To purge mens purses, for venerall Rhumes;
Who threatens penance in a ghostly sheete,
If Clyents (though they strip f [...]om head to feete)
Be slacke in payment of extortious coine:
This man who studies first how to purloine,
Before he lookes vpon the ciuill Law;
This man, who hath a prompt and ready paw,
Who loues no Innes of Court, shutting his cracks
And all his rage, vder a nose of wax;
Who, when a fornicator lookes awry,
That he the least aduantage may espy,
He will officiously attend the Court,
Because he smels out the ensuing sport,
And when a grieuous sine afflicts the purse
Of fleshly sinners, to escape the curse,
[Page 14]He and the thrifty Iudge cau closely share
The foule taxation, which with pious care
Is well intended to correct the sinne,
Establish bridges which decay within,
Releiue sicke persons, or amend high-wayes,
Or some Religious Chappell, which decayes.
But they haue other vses to respect,
To buy their [...]iuill garments, or affect
The wanton lust of some egregious Whoore,
To win new credit, to deceiue the poore;
And so deceiue the vnsuspectfull time,
For (else) they durst not so insatiate clime
Into the fiery Region; neither dares
Their habite seeme acquainted with these cares.
One thing which makes the brag Ciuilian
Account himselfe to be a better man
Then any common Lawyer, [...], because
The Latine tongue hath dignifi'd there Lawes:
And well may Proctors loue the latine tongue;
For (as of olde it hath been truly sung)
Men measure goodnesse by the pres [...]nt gaine:
Should Proctors then from louing that refraine?
When to their great content and greater ease
They can expound their latine as they please:
For (as a fellow lately did agree
Who knowes their dealing) when you read or see
Adpios vs [...]s in a Proctors notes,
The meaning is to buy wiues petticotes.
[Page 15]Now must I summon Parish-hypocrites,
Who seeme attentiue to coelestiall rites;
Who thinke the Art of him that well doth liue,
Is all perform'd, if he example giue,
Which may become the Parish: if he pray
Aloude in Chambers, or deuoutly pay
The tribute of plaine dealing vnto all
Who (can to their assistance) Iustice call:
If in assemblies he can shew good workes,
And call offenders, Infidels or Turkes:
He thinkes he hath discharg'd the finall part
Of a religious or honest heart:
Though he doth closely keepe a vertuous Punke,
Or though (on cautious tearmes) he can be drunk:
Though in another County, and the name
Of other Agents h [...] can schedules frame;
And thinkes himselfe to be a man well blest,
Though he receiues the Sinfull Interest:
For this eye-seruing-age is quickly gone
To all deceit, if we lacke lookers on.
These be most valiant Cowards, men that dare
Be boldly impious, and yet basely feare,
Least common rumour should obserue or thinke
They be not still awake, though still they winke.
Some false Physitions lye within the reach
Of these, who true sincerity impeach,
Their glasses, glisters, oyles, ingredients
(Which hope of lucre oftentimes inuents)
[Page 16]Doe carry all (as if a Cowards soule
Kept in their bosomes) to the dead mens rowle;
Hiding their fearefull practise in the graues:
Leane Death, their operation still out-braues.
Sometimes their crabbed Enuy doth inuent,
Sometimes they kill with new experiment:
For still they erre by custome or by chance,
Either by malice, or by ignorance:
And hauing spent prescriptions to each dramme:
He thinkes alas sure I protected am,
If now I see our Physicke does no good,
Or seeing I haue suckt his purse and blood,
If I can tell his friends there is no hope,
Or that he must expect deaths fatall scope:
Then shall I be discharg'd with credits fee,
And to condemne more liues, remaine still free.
They shift their compasse to auoyd our scorne,
Hiding their actions from the faire-fac'd morne.
But now censorious Critticks doe disgrace
Each worke they know not, with a scuruy face:
They banish Authors to Barbarian lands,
And fling true solid matter from their hands,
With a disdainfull Motto of Non sence:
Although themselues (excepting impudence)
Haue nothing to excuse their vanitie:
Latinlesse Lawlesse Rogues, they often be,
Who hauing past their verdict, will recant:
For their maintaining faculty is scant.
[Page 17]Or [...]f these Apish Cowards dare defend,
The vice of Iudgement, brings them to their end.
And yet some writers doe deserue the name
Of Cowards likewise: they be growne so tame,
With being often handled, often prais'd,
As they forget their motion, being rais'd
Aboue the highest spheres: they thinke it much,
More then indeed enough, to haue beene such
As they were once accounted: though they sleepe
Follow their ease, and sluggish silence keepe:
Nay thogh they wake, & (which doth poyson thē)
Follow those errors which they did condemne.
Some worthlesse Poets also, haue the vice
To write their labours as they cast the dice:
If (by addenture) some strange happy chance,
Smiles on their borrowed workes of ignorance,
They can bewray their theeuish names, and giue
Notice to all, how they eterniz'd liue.
But if (presuming on their sickly strength)
They write, and doe betray themselues at length:
Then, oh they came into the publicke presse
Against their wils; they dare not then confesse
Who wrongs the world with such base Poetry:
Nay, their owne eldest sonnes they will deny.
All hide their vices. Pr [...]nters also hide
Errors escap'd, which makes wise men deride
Excellent wits, deser [...]ing worthy praise,
when (through distinctions lost) the truth decaies:
[Page 18]But among all base writers of this time,
I cannot reckon vp more desperate rime,
(Which trauailes with a feare so damnable)
As Libell-lashing measures: they excell
Onely in this; that those be counted best,
Which the foole-Author dares aknowledge least.
These are contemptible enough, and yet
Their lines maske vnder a sictitious wit,
When wit (as hitherto) was neuer seene
Truly ingendred by a triuiall spleene.
Nor can they thus reforme what is impure,
Seeing men so touch'd, conceiue themselues past cure.
wel do these cowards thriue, when hauing blown
Shame to the peoples Eares, they loose their own.
Briefly, it were a thing preposterous,
If rich men, who are nicely couetous,
Should not be trembling cowards; when they thinke
Vpon the ioyfull paines of death they stinke.
Nothing prouokes me sooner to confesse
That Athisme is their chiefest happinesse,
Then to consider how the very best
Struggle with death, declining to their rest:
One plucks away the haires which should reueale
His righteous thoughts: another doth conceale
The furrowed wrinkles of his tawny skinne:
Anorher scoures his stumpes, or doth beginne
To breake the glasse with foolish extasie,
At the reflexe of Chap-f [...]lne grauitie.
[Page 19]Can th [...]se, with safetie of a quiet minde
[...] vp themselues with an ambitious winde
[...], Rumor, Lucre, and Expence,
[...] [...]nd good men haue no difference?
[...], I haue some alone,
They feed a Hundred bellies, I feed one.
Both van [...]sh to O [...]liuions caue, vnlesse
Our very thoughts a liuing soule expresse:
W [...]ich b [...]ing once admitted, no soules can
Keepe their worst secrets from the face of Man.

ESSAY. III.

NO more, no more: now saith my honest friend
Be politicke; or study to commend
The time, and timelings, least you doe bestow
More copious tearmes then licence dare allow.
Content thy selfe (Cordatus) I will blame
No reuerend Church-men, neither will I name
One lewd professor, who polutes the grace
Of such a formall and respected place:
I will not name their liuings, nor their liues,
Much lesse their bondage to their hansome wiues
As if they durst not shew the times disease,
Because i [...]deed they dare not them displease.
I will not wrong their holinesse: and why?
In holinesse true zeale you may descry.
[Page 20]Nor will I taxe Church vices, least I wrong
The labour which to writing doth belong.
For when I haue againe repeated all
Their vices publicke, and sinnes personall:
I shall but reckon the antiquities,
Of Glosse, of Ignorance, and Simonies:
And so repeate things mention'd long before,
Nay things prefixt vpon each Play-house doore.
Let them (alas) continue, or increase,
O let them long inioy a quiet peace;
For they already know the mischiefes well:
They almost scorne such inwards to expell.
And why? they feare taxation: O strange fate!
They who contemne reproofes, are desperate.
We cannot hope such persons will amend,
Who may (without controule) their vice extend.
Enough, enough, I haue bethought so much
Concerning cowards, that my selfe am such:
I dare not speake my meaning vnder paine
Of being crost, of being curb'd againe.
Why crost? why curb'd? go aske authoritie
Why it protects peculiar vanitie?
And it perhaps will answere in defence;
Crowes to themselues be perfect Innocence.
Or (which is more familiar) [...] loues
That humor best, which bitterly reproues
All states, all faculties besides her owne:
She fauours that, and feares it should be knowne,
[Page 21]Thouhg it be noted; or with bitter shame,
Hath purchasd (e're you write) an odious name.
Men thinke their fashions and their faces best,
If (in a flattred humour) they be blest,
To heare men discommend both such and such,
Not naming theirs; although they be so much
Apparant filthy, as no vulgar eye
Would make a question of deformity:
And so superior vices doe ptopound
A freedome to their scope, as being sound
In selfe conceite, if they can saue their skinne
From being Printed with a publike sinne;
Though (setting bookes aside) they doe professe
Enough to poyson all their names no lesse.
See how I breath into the spacious Aire,
A Theame as spacious: Can my Verse repaire
The fruitles errors of men obstinate;
Who cannot freely their owne vices hate?
Who rather gainefull vices doe condemne,
Because they cannot purchase gaines by them?
For in their owne offences they reserue
Such cautions as may closely them preserue.
Well, sir, admit men labour to be wise,
And for themselues do secrets exercise,
Who shall dare contradict such worthy paines
Which fosters credit, and ill tearmes restraines?
Auant base Hipocrite, goe henceforth set
Vpon thy pillow, thy close cabinet,
[Page 22]And sleepe with all the papers in thy hand,
Which thy most secret counsels may command;
Or I with Spaniards better shall agree;
Or I shall trust a Lapwing more then thee.
Good men dare alwaies haue their thoughts ex­pressd,
And to their spightfull haters be confessd.
Although in lawfull proiects, witt doth teach
A priuate way, least others should out-reach.
But well, suppose men so directly halt
As they doe feare to patronize the fault,
Shall they not seeke vnpunish'd to remaine,
If actions pass'd cannot be cal'd againe?
We daily doe transgresse; and some perhaps
Deserue the plagues of lashing after-clap [...]:
But then, alas! what satisfaction can,
Written reproofes be for a vicious man?
You make professions vndergoe contempt,
And make the least offence so farre exempt
From ciuill vertue, and some new concerts,
That you enforce good fellowship to straights.
So: Haue you done (deare Motley?) yes almost;
But stay a little, and behold vncrost,
The reason, why we closely doe amis,
And why we couer sinne: the reason is
To frustrate your inuentions; which produce,
Nothing halfe-worthy of a well borne Muse;
But triuiall vanities, and time expence,
To tell mans weakenes by experience:
[Page 23]You might with more applause bestow more pains
To grace the Mayors Triumphs, and the chaines
Which do attend his Lordship to the Hall:
You might the Scottish dignitie miscall:
And in some honest, [...], scur [...]y rime
Disgrace or flatter minions of the time:
A rustick, sawcy, morall would be rare:
To let the people know you do preferre
Fame and your countries witles loue before;
Discretions wealth, and raptures quiet store,
You might prouide for Cambridge once againe
Scaenes, which might worthy, like it selfe remaine:
And not in tearmes, as needy as the truth,
Discouer haire-braine fallacies of youth:
You might, you might, Seuerus, and detest
To scourge close dealers who be safely blest:
For I can well resolue; you are the cause
Why men reserue (in acts) a priuate clause:
You, and your nice obseruance do restraine
Men, and their actions both, from being plaine:
And yet you call those Cowards, who beware
As if they were possess'd with childish feare.
Suruay thy selfe, quicke-sighted formalist,
And then discouer that abusiue mist,
With which men shelter any private sinne:
Charity alwayes doth at home beginne.
Now haue you ended? then, I answer all
By scorning to excuse or hide my fall;
[Page 24]As thou dost vrge, if I transgresse my square,
I of relapse, not of reproofe beware:
And I beleeue thou likewise wilt amend,
If so thou do'st not studiously offend:
For that indeed betrayes mens dealings naught,
When they doe studie rathe [...] to be taught,
In subtile mischiefe of a newer mint,
Then to abiure deceits of common print:
For they hate couznage, once intitled olde,
Because the Title shewes it often tolde,
And so affoords no lucre; not because
It fauours Athisme and corruption drawes.
Why doe I taxe, why doe I trouble men,
Or why with noted crimes defile my Pen?
The most notorious Cowards will betray
Themselues, and follyes, though I turne away.
Yes (which is worth my laughter) they accuse
Their closest feares, euen while they doe refuse
To let you vnderstand their subtile drifts.
They doe discover such avoyding shifts,
That you may thence collect some fearfull trick:
They studie to appeare so politicke.
As, Fellons brought before a Iustice, each
Hopes to be sau'd, if others he impeach:
And as some Indians dealt, being all amaz'd
To heare the Spanish guns and forces blaz'd;
They bought their safety through a fine deceit:
For knowing gold to be the Spanish baite,
[Page 25]They would protest, that fifty leagues beyond
Was common plenty of that yellow sand,
Meaning to turne the fooles another way.
And so deale vicious persons: they betray
Anothers folly, to preserue their owne:
Obserue, & you shall gather things well knowne.
Go tell a Church-man he hath lost his voyce,
Or aske him why he doth in strife reioyce:
And he will answer; Lawyers do not speake
So much to purpose, as the Pulpits creake,
Although they do receiue fees double twice;
Which far [...]e exceed my single benefice.
But you must thinke, diuines resolue on this,
To blame-Lawmen though nothing were amisse.
Go tell a Scholler he relyes on chance,
Because he doth affect dull ignorance:
And he the worst obiection soone auerts
By telling how The times neglect deserts.
Go tell a Maiestrate of morning bribes,
And he, to shallow meanes, the same ascribes:
But then demand of Honour why she failes,
In giuing that which euery way auailes
To nourish her beloued sonnes? And she
Will answere, They profuse, insatiate be.
Aske shifting Russians why they do forget,
To hasten payment and discharge their debt,
Or why they doe sufficient men dislike?
And they will answere, Great-ones do the like.
[Page 26]Go tell a Gameller he hath cheated long,
Or vnto many offred shamefull wrong,
And he will answere that himselfe before
Was often cheated twentie times and more.
Go aske a Drunkard why he followes wine,
Abuses God, or giues a Heathen signe;
And he will quickly answere thy demand,
The Parson was so drunke he could not stand.
Go tell a Hot-spurre he hath kil'd a man,
Go aske him how he doth the terrour scan:
And he will answere; a Phisitian's free
To murther twenty millions; why not hee?
Go tell a fawning wretch he doth relye
Vpon the slauish vice of flattery:
And he will answere. That the best are glad
To sollow such indeuours, or as bad.
Go tell a whore she doth her sexe polute
By being such a common prostitute:
And she will answere in defence of fame,
Citizens wiues, and Ladies do the same.
Go tell a trades-man he deceiues the day,
Refusing light, deluding euery way:
And he will answere to auoyd thy curse,
Go further on, you will be cheated worse.
Thus cowards all (not daring to defend
The diuers follies which they dare intend)
Confesse themselues, and others do elect
Vices, which none but Diuels dare protect.
[Page 27]When I pronounce a Coward, it implies,
Malice and spight be Cowards qualities:
They are inseperate; and why? because
A vicious Coward so exactly knowes
Himselfe vnable, that he doth decree
To haue Consorts as impotent as hee:
Because he may a [...]oyd the mighty shocke
Of mens contempt, rank'd with a greater flocke:
Whereas perhaps if he were left alone,
His basenes onely would be look'd vpon.
And therefore it is made the next reply;
Others be wicked men as well as I.
But harke you Sir (saith one) you haue forgot,
To brand our Females with a Cowards lot.
They be a proper Subiect: do not spare
Them and their couert dealing to declare:
They be attyred with inuentiue doubts,
And haue as many feares as they haue thoughts:
They labour daily, yet they doe suspect,
They cannot halfe a hansome face erect:
They paint, they powder, they with toyes exceed
Alas! they dare not shew themselues indeede.
Night they doe honour: then they do obtaine
That which perhaps the day cals backe againe:
They doe intice their Husbands to beleiue
Any thing (then) and any thing to giue:
They doe intreate, when Husbands scarce reply
But with a purpose nothing to deny:
[Page 28]They nor without aduantage do contend;
Nor any Cowards odds doe discommend.
Well, well: admit they do abound with feare,
Females for nothing else created were.
They need not of their weakenesse be asham'd;
When wee should blush to heare the folly nam'd.
So, so: but you Reproue impediment,
And tell vs what the crafty times inuent,
As if authority forgat his whip:
You may be silent, and surcease to nip:
Let sage Authority proceed by course
Of Law, to punish these without remorse.
Then you must bid Authority respect
Thinges not accounted euill; or neglect
To punish friend-lesse fee-lesse infamies:
And taxe braue mischiefe with seuerer eyes.
Nay that will neuer be; for tell the base,
And poore offender (who feeles no disgrace)
He hath offended; and he dares reply,
He tooke his patterne from Authority.
So shifting be the simple Idiots,
So shifting base be higher Patriots:
And must be euer till they do reueale
Feare to Commit, not study to Conceale.

Essay the fourth entituled Reproofe. Or a de­fence for common Law & Lawyers mixt with reproofe against the Lawyers common Enemy.

Essay. IIII.

MY labour I renew: but hauing seene,
How ill dispos'd my former truth hath been
I grow a little wiser; and agree
To make an Essay proue an Ironie.
Then what Profession shall I now disgrace?
Reproofe is thought to haue no better face
Then Impudence or Malice; and is thought
To be a scandall by corruption wrought.
Tis true a thriuing knowledge hath by some
Who lack'd such happy wit, been thought a scum;
And, vnder shadow of reproofe, hath beene
Made an extreame derision to be seene:
Nay made a publike iniury, to please
Them, who should punish the contempt; & squease
That shamefull enuy, till it doth remaine,
As empty as the rugged Authors braine,
Alas I am too modest and obscure:
I shew in darke reproofe what is impure;
And therfore haue beene blamed: but I will now
Speake with an open zeale; and disauow
[Page 30]The mincing tearmes of caution: if I faile
To speake my meaning, let me nere preuaile
To speake a righteous thought: And if I misse
Opinion of a tempered zeale in this,
I shall account it glory; for the thing,
Needs such a Poets vehemence to sing
Her hat [...]d trophe [...]es, that will neither care
To purchase hate; nor will his knowledge spare:
Nay such a Poet that will be most glad,
In her defence to be accounted mad.
In her? in whose defence? thine (sacred Law)
Thine, whose prouoking [...]arity doth draw
My soule vnto thy rescue. Thou hast made
Way through the bloudy and victo [...]ious blade
Of Danes and Normans, to maintaine thy right:
And hast preseru'd thine honour in despight
Of time and conquest: like Religion, thou
Hast among persecutions gotten through:
And when preuailing rage of swor [...] and lance
Threatned thy titles, [...] didst [...] aduance:
Nay (which is miracle) thy [...] haue
Enforc'd the cruell [...] to [...]
And thinke them precious. All [...] warre
Which doth not learning and men learned spare,
Had not the power to demolish thee:
Nor Time, to which the greatest [...] be
Condemned [...]: [...] [...],
That almost doth all [...] arts [...];
[Page 31]Nor nice opinion, that doth oft supplant
The holy truth, and make the best recant:
These (which haue ruin'd others) did increase
Thy natiue glory, and augment thy peace.
When strict inuasion ouercame the Land;
Thou hadst the grace, within thee to command
Nay to intice the flinty Conqueror:
He who had strong sufficience to abhorre
Thy bliss-full knowledge, he was well content
To loue thee and obey thy Regiment.
Can it be said a stranger did embrace
Thine infant worth; and shall thine aged face
Be now forgotten; and derided then
By those who call themselues thy Country-men?
It is: and vndergoes the shamefull mocke
Of them who haue [...]onsum'd their idle stocke
Of witty iesting: It is now the way
To keepe a Writers credit from decay;
If he can foyst into his fly-blowne stuffe
Some twenty Law-tearmes; he hath wit enough:
The very basest wretch (who cannot lay
Matter in two yeares for a ragged Play)
Will taxe the Law with errors most vntrue,
And teach the folli [...]s which it neuer knew.
Poore sneaking fellowes who be discontent
With euery fashion, art, and argument
(Which doth not magnifie their witlesse rimes)
Produce the Law to proue our wicked times.
[Page 32]Then (dearest Cambridge, best in my respect)
Be these examples fitting to direct
Thy ripe inuentions? and to tutor thee
Who art, if well awak'd, most fit and free
To Tutor all the world? Is plenties date
So much exspir'd that thou must imitate?
What prodigall and riotous expence
Hath turn'd thee bankroupt? Is thy nobler sence
Now punish'd for mispending former cost?
Or be thy riches by aduenture lost?
Hast thou not carefull been to multiply
Thy precious wealth? or did the parties dye,
Or else run mad, on whom thou hast disposd
Thy honour'd portions? Is thy wealth inclosd
Where none but Worthy men may it behold?
Or be thy worthy Poets cheapely sold
As Bondslaues to detraction? or what then?
Hath thy good nature trusted many men
And doe they all forget to pay thee now?
Some haue enough to spend; but care not how:
And so perhaps thy Poets: haue they so?
Good Poets write whether they will or no
And worthily: why therfore do [...] not they?
Dost thou or nature curse them with delay?
Or doth thy bounty turne to poysoned gall?
Else art thou growne so couetous withall
That thou canst nothing spare but mouldy sauce
To welcome and deserue the Kings applause?
[Page 33]I wrong thee Cambridge with my strict demand:
thou keepst those wits within thy plenteous hand
Who can establish works with easie choise,
Worthy to be commended by the voice
Of God and Angels: but it hath been tolde;
Sound wits are modest; shallow-braines are bold:
And therefore did the law-tearme Poet weene,
To please a publike eare with priuate spleene.
Now O the pitty! that a misconceite
O [...] some, should all the Law and Lawyers baite.
Content your selfe saith Ignoramus, I
Taxe not the Law, but Lawyers vanity:
Nor do I taxe good Lawyers, but the ranke
Of those who purchase wealth, and yet are blank▪
Content thy selfe slight Ignoramus, I
Am well acquainted with your pollicy:
You in the Fencers trick are deeply read;
And off [...]ing at the foot you meane the head.
As doth a Rebell who hath taken Armes:
He promises to helpe his Countries harmes,
But hath a meaning to supprise the towne,
And make the totall Regiment his owne:
Such was thy meaning; to disgrace the Law
Vnder a colour'd trick; and wisely draw
That honour to yourselues which followes them.
But shall I taxe your meanings, and condemne
Inuisible designements? You proclaime
Your meanings in each Tauerne: will you blame
[Page 34]Those that beleiue you when you do reioyce
That Lawyers be offended with your noise?
Trust me, atender mercy doth inforce
me to compassion and a silent course,
When any crime, that doth deserue the scourge,
Is too much tortur'd: I had rather vrge
Defence for folly, then reproofe▪ when all
Insult vpon it; And so much miscall
An easie error, that it gathers strength.
I feele me thinkes a happy scorne at length
To adde my curses to the vulgar curse,
In the most hatefull mischiefe: It is worse
To ouer-punish crimes then to commit.
I doe abhor to exercise my wi [...]t
On a most troden Theame: and doe account
A sleepy caue better then such a mount.
Me thinks 'tis noble and most humane too;
If I forbeare when I might freely doo.
And could that spa [...]ke of goodnes be in you
So much forgotten; that you durst allow
The broad contempt of them, whose happines,
All common Enuy labours to make lesse?
Did it seeme honest, politicke, or wise,
Humane, or vertuous to you, to deuise
So bad a Proiect? and to multiply
The times detraction with an open lye?
What will you answer? what will you compose
Able to make defence in vearse or p [...]ose?
[Page 35]'Troth you had best in some new ballad sing
Your Lib [...]ll was bespoken by the King.
For no euasion can your wisedome spare;
Except the foolish one; I doe not care.
But Ignoramus may conceiue that I
Am ouer-ea [...]nest now; and may reply,
Things are as they be taken; and indeed
Things oft be taken worser then they need:
But you and your additions doe expound
Your hearty tryumphes vnto malice bound:
Seeking (as if you had forsworne the Law
Of reason and of reuerence) to misdrawe
That ornament of men; and to annoy
The chiefest Iustice and the chiefest ioy
That our law doth acknowledge: were it so
As the report already seemes to know;
You should affixe vnto your tainted place,
Eternity of shame and of disgrace.
Schollers (you say) haue found thēselues agrieu'd▪
Was this the fittest way to be relieu'd?
Perhaps you doe account it as your griefe
Because the Iudge hath spar'd som scholler theefe;
And so his mercy hath corrupted more:
This might excuse, and get amends, before
Such bold inuectiues: but you doe prolong
Your strife; & say your suites haue sufferd wrong.
So so: i [...]patient arrogance will finde
The way to quarrell when her eyes be blinde.
[Page 36]For though men conquer a malicious hart
And giue no causes to complaine of smart:
Nay, turne her quickest sences into steele
T [...]at (though a cause were giuen) she might not feele,
Yet, would she (rather then be mute) suggest
Causes of quarrell out of sleepy rest.
Nay, 'tis a Schollers vice and veniall pride
To thinke his owne conceit the surer side:
If therefore he dislike the Lawes intent,
We may neglect his tales with merriment;
And pardon what he saith: for euery youth
In Cambridge s [...]emes to vnderstand the truth
Of Logick and Philosophy so plaine;
That o [...]her truth he holdes in much disdaine:
Or he bel [...]iues the Colledges know all,
And onely truth approues which they so call.
And hearing them dislike the Lawyers brood
When Suites decline, or cases be not good;
He lookes no further then the grudging fame:
And is not ready to discerne, but blame.
Nay rather All become so valiant
That they abhorre to be thought ignorant
Of any truth in Law; because our Ile
Hath call'd it Common; and makes Iohn a Stile
The rustick worde so frequent in our bookes:
And therfore with contempt each Scholler looks
Vpon the weighty meanings; whose pure light
Hath Iron gates to stop their scornfull sight.
[Page 37]Though they presume their [...]ight can reach the
And therfore they proceed in simple iarrs:
And then exclaime vpon the Lawyers sence starrs:
When they doe loose through idle confidence.
Nay, nay, we need not mar [...]el though they blame
The Lawes proceedings when they loose their game:
For though they win & suffer no disgrace,
Their best opinion of the Law is base.
But it is possible a Poets witt
Should be so flesh'd in mischiefe to commit
Rape with an
ye com­mon law
aged Matror; & despoile
Her honor'd grauity with impious toile,
Except his former sinnes haue taught before
The way to gett some Bastard by a Whoore?
I cannot thinke it possible, nor may,
Till proofe conuert [...] thoughts another way:
He seemes (like one in reputation crost)
By desperate meanes to purchase what he lost.
Perhaps the Fabulist can tell vs why
This Writer took [...] a [...] of [...]:
And as the Chariot-driuer ask'd his wheele
Wherfore it creak'd? which answered; I do feele
The want of that, which stopps a creaking voice:
So the lowde Ignoramus may reioyce
To learne this answer; and protest with it,
He tooke meere sound because he wanted wi [...]t:
but come thou long-nail'd comick, who dost claw
And can [...]t not [...] the substance of our Law;
[Page 38](For busie fooles may
Tru [...]h may be blamed but cannot be shamed.
blot but cannot sinke
Through solid stuffe with Aqua fortis [...])
Let [...]s a while examine your delight
And search the wo [...]ds where you most deeply bite
You bring a large confused heape of noyse,
[...], writs, and vocall empty toyes,
To proue the lawes discredit; then you ioyne
A Lawyers hearty loue to yellow coyne;
And then you snarle against our simple French
As if you had beene pepperd wi [...]h your wench:
And then right harmeles Dulman doth inchant
The Scaene; with teaching Latine how to Cant.
O most rare subiect and bewitching Scaene [...]
Able to make the fattest hearer leane;
If he would truly thinke how little paines
Do [...]h fasten credit vpon lucky s [...]raines,
When full deseruings proue infortunate:
And neither purchase fame, in loue, nor hate.
What though a Lawyer doth expect his fee?
Doth not a Lawyer, that same Angell see
Tempting diuines to flatter and belie
The dead, which tempted him to falsifie
The liuing truth? resolue me, which of both
Approches neerest to a [...]ewd vntroth?
I thinke it wo [...]ser to commit the sinne
That shall not be rebuk'd, and which will winne
Strength, because vncontrold; then to protect
An error which the court will contradict.
[Page 39]And if you talke of learning, they alone
Can yeeld vs twenty dunces backe for one.
Then was the Lyon wise, which grauely said,
Asses may blowe the trumpet in our ayde.
But you procure the King to laugh enough,
I darde not say to like such thredbare stuffe:
For he that scornes our common lawe in rage
Because the tearmes are ouer growne with age
May scorn the wrincles which haue smoo-her beene
And loue a strumpet with her painted skin.
Or he may mocke his mothers countenance;
When it growes witherd by continuance:
Law is the kingdomes mother: she by light:
Conceiues, and is deliured of mens right:
And all her phrases which be
Malta [...], [...] i [...]m cecidere, caden [...]o; Que nunc sunt in honore vocabula, sivolet v [...]us. Hor: de arte poe.
wrincled now.
Once had a youthfull and a louely brow.
But is it lawfull to embase the true
And auncient L [...]tine, with deuises new?
Embase we doe not, but enlarge we may;
where words approu'd wil not our sence conuey.
Come, come: although you will not vnderstand
You shall be taught to grace your natiue land;
With yeelding loue▪ and honour to defend
Your countries credit; which the lawes intend.
Rich natures worke most absolute and wise
Doth giue the liberty which you despise:
[Page 40]You may obserue how in this earthly globe,
She cloathes each creature with a suiting robe:
The quiet Lambe she doth adorne with wooll
And makes the Parot fine, a beautious gull:
But because strength and durance are within,
She cloathes the Lyon with a rugged skin:
And such an outside doth become the part
Of a preuailing, and perpetuall art:
An art which hath no meaning to respect
A mighty person, and the poore neglect:
An art which in her habit rude, and plaine,
Disclaimes to be prouok'd with loue or gaine:
And with such art is Englands
The Common Lawe.
mother blest,
Being in all her liuely habit drest:
Therefore I thinke it wisdome to adorne
The Law with out-side which may merit scorne:
That like a wealthie Farmer clad in
[...] quisqu [...] [...] erat a natur [...], vberiùs etiam a doctrina, [...], [...]ò magis refug [...]ebat a legum [...], qui vi­pribus et spin [...]s interclusus tenebatur. Bod [...]n: praefati:
Frise,
She may preserue her treasure in disguise:
For being like a glorious dame arraid;
Her tempting beauties then were all betraid
To multitude of
Or Students
suiters; and her loue
Would more then infinite contentions moue:
Looke on that foolish thing which many call
A beauteous woman; and behold how all
[Page 41]Spend their deuotions▪ sacrifice their braine,
engage their liues and credit to maintaine
that mappe of coulors: euery man may see
Her suiters (though but two) will disagree
About her loue; nay striuing to be blest
each will presume he hath more interest:
And will the simplest wretch conceiue that shee,
I meane our Law and makers dignitie;
She our almighties minion, can display
Her quicke transparance, and not steale away
Mens deere affections? or can she remoue
Her vaile; and will not her attracting loue
Prouoke the wisest men to quarrell? yes:
Loue a conceit and firme opinion is;
And knowledge doth beget amasing doubts:
T [...]en loue with knowledge doth inspire the thoghts
To chuse opiniō: knowledge being wide
Can both maintaine opinion and diuide:
So then contentions follow: such would bee
The force of law, if euery man could see.
Admit, she were adornd with costly phrase;
Admit all nations did her merits blaze;
And that the sweetest beautie she can take,
Would neither do [...]age nor dissention make;
Yet hauing many suiters, she must minde
The due respect of all, or proue vnkinde:
which would exceed her large, (but aequal) dowre
If she were courted by more courts then foure.
[Page 42]Why then be some licentious Church-men vext?
Why be they suffred to abuse their text;
And make the Gospell speake against our Law?
When as the Text (which they enforce to gnaw
Vpon a Lawyers credit) doth concerne
Their owne reproach; if they could well discerne.
O listen you that haue but common sence
And marke with what iniurious violence
They doe compell the Scripture: I haue knowne
Cynnicks, to such a spightfull blindnes growne,
That, on the silly wordes of Balaams Asse,
They would inferre what slaue a Lawyer was.
The forraine P [...]pist is, against our will,
Beholding to our Law, and must be still:
For we and our proceedings vndergoe
A fury which the Pope and Rome should know:
The witty students doe endeauour thus,
With squibbes and crackers against onely vs,
In such abundance; that their wits be spent
E're they confute a Popish argument.
I cannot guesse what fatall curse incites
Their fluent enuy, which (in triumph) bites:
But well assur'd I am, that onely they
Whose liues, their guilty meaning, doe betray
Despise a Lawyer: when the best Diuines
Scorne to be noted by such daring signes.
But others seeme as if their hungry mawes
Were cramm'd with all corruption of our Lawes:
[Page 43]And that in chusing of a Text, they meane
To purge their guts, & make their stomacks clean:
[...]or any Scriptures peece, like Hellebore
Rumbles within them, and doth bring vp store
Of cholericke vomit in the Lawyers face:
Whilst I lament their high and sacred place;
And maruaile why the Circle cannot charm [...]
That frantick method; but be made a Farme
To sowe and nourish byting nettle seed
Or slips of [...]: rather it indeed
Is growne the charmed fortresse, to condemne:
But cannot iustifie their zeale, nor them.
For most of all their vehemence depends,
On earthly zeale, and prostituted ends:
Either they seeke to please themselues and men;
Or to displease their enemie; or then
To credit their owne Colledge; or withall
To be accounted sharpe and Cynicall;
Or to be great; or to discharge their name
And place least they incurre a publike shame.
The worthy men, whom no such end attaints,
Shall, if they come to me, become my Saints.
But God forbid their ends should harden vs,
To blame the truth, or proue inc [...]edulous:
We shall a powerfull Doctrine best obey,
Not thinking why but what they doe display:
Yet I doe wish them as a slander by,
Henceforth to learne aright both what and why:
[Page 44]Least seeming zealous, you doe make withall
God as a shadow to your secret gall.
It is a thing so common to traduce
The Lawyer, and besprinckle bitter Iuyce;
That I (before some Preacher doth begin)
Dare lay a wager, he will raile and win:
For I haue often heard such fuming stuffe
Presented to an Audience all in snuffe,
That (trust me) I haue wondred in my minde,
Whether he spake before, o [...] spake behinde:
And so the Parson spake (vnlesse I faile)
Who preach'd of Tobyes dog, that wagd his tail [...].
What? shall the sacred learning which aff [...]ights,
And coniures down the most inhumane sprights,
Be so distracted, with a sudden curse,
That it must raise vp spirits, And much worse,
And yet from thence proceed things often good,
As from the fountaine of most Heauenly food:
For Scorne it selfe and Enuy must confesse
That many, there excell in worthinesse:
If Passi [...]n sometimes did not Zeale condemne,
We should account them Gods, & worship them.
But some in earnest folly ouer proud,
Most voide of matter, will thus talke aloud:
O the most gryping Lawyer who doth make
Dissention vpon earth; and mony ta [...]e
On this side, and on that side, a [...]d doth loue
His Gold and Money, and dissention; moue:
[Page 45] Is not the Lawyers wicked, then I say?
And very wicked brethren? and I pray
Is it not, shamefull brethren? Fye for shame
That Lawyers should loue money [...] and enfl [...]me
Their hearts with loue of siluer, and so leaue
Goodnes to turne a Lawyer and deceiue;
And then like couetous Lawyers—thus he lay
Out-lawd in breath and knew not what to say.
Let me demand your purpose: doe you meane
To cleanse a dish with dish-clouts more vnclean?
Resolue me (Poets) you that doe bestow,
The most abusiue scorne which man dares know,
Vpon the Lawes profession: You that take
A patterne by damnations rule to make
The Lawyer seeme more hatefull; and beleeue
Hate merits Heauen, which may y Lawyer grieue.
I pray resolue me (Poets) doe you meane,
To make that rampant and immodest Queane
Your Muse, the Lawyers Mistres? And repaire
A place infected with vnwholsome ayre?
What? doth a Patient blame Physitians skill,
Because th' Apothecary wrongs his bill?
You blame the Lawyers gaine, and will not see
How Offices consume the greater see,
For as a Pothecaties bills depend
On the Physitian to surcharge his friend;
So, to surcharge the Clyent, Offices
Depend vpon a Lawyers busines.
[Page 46]Resolue me you diuines, whose earnest hate
To Lawyers, makes you practise a d [...]bote,
Whilst you
Si cille Cyn [...]cus [...] carp [...]bat homines [...]ui pro [...]ona [...] sacia [...], [...]t [...] contra samtatem [...]. [...]: Lib. 6. 268.
declaime against the very sinn [...]:
I pray resolue me, who hath euer beene
So fruitles in extreame reproofe as you?
Or after long inu [...]ctiues who did kn [...]w
So small detraction of the common [...]?
What? doe you purpose to amend ou [...] life
With bitter malice? can r [...]uiling [...]
Make Lawyers quiet? O you do amaze
My little braine with wonder: you may please
To see how furious windes do moue the seas
And make the Ocean roare; when gentle gales
Adde a faire swiftnes to the Marchants sailes:
And so doth clamorous rayling worke mens rage
when milde reproofe might quicken vertues age.
But you, as many Doctors do, or, can,
Seeming to heale the vice, abhorre the Man.
You doe pretend with phisicke rules to cure
The Lawes diseases; which might well indure
A potion, (I confesse) for you that vrge
Might well endure a potion, and a purge:
B [...]t you pretending wisely to display
The [...] of Lawyers cannot [...] the way:
[Page 47]You know the perfect method to displease;
But neither constitution, nor disease.
You thinke a Sanguine body, cholericke;
And so your potion makes the Lawyer sicke:
Lawyers be Sanguine, liuely, firme and free:
No maruaile then your medcines disagree:
For God himselfe may this full truth dispearce;
Medcines make sound men froward and peruerse.
Admit (which euery honest man will say)
That Lawyers do, as all professions, lay
Some part of meaning to increase their state:
And do deserue your Phisicke, not your hate:
Is therefore the disease so violent
Or they so crazy, that with one consent
You must apply quicke medcines all the yeere?
The Spring & autumne be fit times to cleere
A fowle grosse body: then are they so foule
That all times must the Lawyers art controule?
Small phisick knowledge may perswade you thus
That things which grow familiar with vs
Can haue no mightie uertue to preuaile:
Though taken seldome, they do neuer faile.
For neither poyson'd sops, nor Opiates can,
Releiue, or trouble an accustom'd man.
Nor can reproofe, enforc'd with daily care,
Make vitious people better then they are.
You do pretend our health when you reproue;
And we must thanke you for your holy loue:
[Page 48]But will a pained sick-man safely trust
The phisicall aduice of him, who must
Inherit, when the patient is dead?
You Churchmen know, (and cannot be misled)
That you may claime by gift the next estate
If our lawes body did giue way to fate.
And therefore all the world may well suspect
Your phisicke sauours of a strange effect.
But all your subtile nips and priuie querks
Doe proue such poore and vn-preuailing ye [...]ks,
That you prouided haue a mastife dogge;
Who runs about because he wants his clogge:
But (thanks to wis [...]dome and our bodies might)
The toothles roaring curre can hardly bite:
I meane your mastiffe Ignoramus now,
Who tooke his valors breath from only you:
And yet that e [...]gin of authority,
(which makes the lesser fabricke stop and fly)
Might rather be propounded: for conceite
And all vpon her lawles pleasure waite.
The world appeares most like a Puppet-play,
Wherein the motions, walke, performe and say,
Nothing but what the master will aduance;
Though euery tricke proclaimes dull ignorance.
Thus greatnes doth preuaile: what remedie?
Yes, honour'd Lawyers (whom neglected I
May freely place among the soundest men)
Be still vndaunted in your worth and then
[Page 49]Their pittied clamorous malice wil proue hoarce
And dumbe; while you preferre an honest course.
Vapors be rais'd and exhalations flye
When the most seruent Sunne appeares in skye:
Summer and heauenly Sun-shine do prouoke;
The noysome Fennes to yeeld an vgly smoake.
which vpward mounts, but cannot touch the sun
Although it should aboue the compasse runne:
So Lawyers glory (which deseruing paines,
Knowledge and study haue enrich'd with gaines)
Doth moue the sordid breath of baser wits
(As doth the Sun preuaile in muddy pits)
To yeeld a stinking vapor, not defile
Lawyers with madnes, and reuenge more vile.
But as the Sunne doth readily consume
And turne to nothing, the poore vap [...]ous fume;
So shall the Lawyers bright and purer flame
Of good example, turne contempt to shame.
Meane time (right Lawyers) whom opinion rude
H [...]th rank'd among the baser multitude;
With admiration I salute your peace,
Which hath been calme & patient; while the seas
With boystrous fury did assaie to drowne
Your dearest hopes, and pull your trophys down
My riper knowledge and experience
Of your most often torturd innocence
So troubles me, that I in serious sort,
Could wisely now forsweare to trust report:
[Page 50]My thoughts are all to narrow to disclose
Your manly suffering; which doth interpose
The vildest sharpe reproofe that may be borne:
And so confutes them with a noble scorne.
O I doe feele a heart aboue my power
To saue your merits from the fatall shower
Of their detracting spight, and to disclowd
Your vertues lost in the confused crowd
Of headstrong rumor; which your foes inuent
To nourish their detracting argument.
This only comforr I will now propound;
Giue loosers leaue to speake: which is the ground
Of all our foes abusiue speech: for they
Hauing lost manners and discretion may
Speake boldly and be blameles though they raile
But may their spight increase and matter faile.
Now care and dulnes do my verse bereaue:
And so sweet poetry I take my leaue.
My greatest follies are already past;
And after noone I shall haue breath'd my last.

Of High Birth. ESSAY. V.

THINGS curiously Created, differ as much from thinges begotten, as the first Man from birth, and artificiall bodies from mans issue. Children therefore may challenge ftom their Parents more prerogatiue, then worke­manship or mans Inuention; for it participates with vs in being onely, but they in being ours: for thinges begotten be originally our owne, but things created be ours at the second hand conti­nually: Else man were two [Page 51] waies excellent, and able to cre­ate, as well as to beget, without patterne or example: but onely our Issue is our owne absolute; For man, secluded from the company of men, is by the help of Nature fit (of himselfe) for infinite generation, though no­thing else: Whereas truely in matters of Science and manuall labour, man, without the helpe of man, doth nothing. So igno­rant hee is, and chiefly bound vnto imitation, as hee neuer did nor will, produce that, which depends not on some president: Which argues the full necessity of being sociable, and mightily condemns these currish people, who thinke it all-sufficient, if they can once assume the pride, to say, they are not any way in­debted; or that they bee their owne Supporters: And thinke [Page 53] it the safest friendship to forget Humanity; neglect Acquain­tance; make loue an outward Ceremony; nay scarce so much: and neuer bee offended with a curse so much, as when they must haue mans assistance to re­store them.

These are vnmindefull why man doth multeply; Why law­full Marriage was inuented: Or why GOD, tkinking it not enough to worke a Vnion with HVMANITY by the bond of NATVRE, did also ex­tend affinitie to those of ano­ther stocke; That INCEST might bee vnacted; and by the consequent, that MAN should not engrosse onely the loue of his owne FAMILIE; But seeke loue among other people that hee might learne more knowledge.

[Page 54]Man therfore thus enabled to produce; it followes by impli­cation that amongst posterity, some one must haue prece­dence; in which, sonnes (by con­sent) haue that Immunity of El­dest: And Hee, according to vsu­all speech, is called the Heire Apparant: which is a name so largely taken, as (with it) wee imply any one able to inherit, though not the Eldest. But pro­perly it extends to the First Be­gotten, who (in being first) sup­plies the office of a Substitute ro discharge that which incum­bers the Parent; The office of a valiant warriour likewise, who couets by being first, to take the first charge, giue the first assault, and (aboue all) to bee according to his name, truely forward in the high Archieue­ments of honour: so forward, [Page 57] as for any of his Ranke to bee before, should bee reputed a miserable basenesse. It is an ob­serued point of Nature (amongPliny. [...] Philost [...]o. the Ancients) that Elephants, whē they passe a riuer, knowing by peculiar instinct that their aduersaries (for the most part) incoūter them in the Rereward, they marshall themselues that the eldest may bee first ready to sustaine the violence: which giues a memorable precept to mans Issue, that hee (if eldest) ought rather to protect, then to exceede his inferiour kins­folke; that, they (because youn­gest) ought rather to submit, where his good counsell may assist, then be malignāt or main­taine Faction.

This Theater of mans life, admits degrees of height, in which the eldest is aboue the o­thers; [Page 58] and therfore as the Cen­tinell, or Scout (in Atmies) is vigilant to foresee aduantage, and so preserue by diligence when courage of the rest is little worth: So should superiours in birth bee as much prouident for the safety of those, in respect of whome they be superior, as to esteeme their birth-right a blessing.

It is therefore no safe conclu­sion, to say hee is the eldest, and so most excellent; bnt hee is the eldest, and therefore should bee most excellent: For in produ­ction of the soule it fares other­wise with a man, then with vn­reasonable creatures; Among which there needes no better warrant to signifie courage, then the first breede, which signifies the strength of Na­ture in the Parents or Breeders. [Page 57] But with Man, (who commu­nicates with a Beast onely in giuing outward shape) it is suffi­cient for him to challenge in his Issue what himselfe bestowes: As for the Diuine Materials of Reason, if sometimes they doe heriditarily succeede to the sonne of a prudent Father, wee may from hence conclude, that GOD more Nothing so much ar­gues a su­preame and infin [...]te go­uerment of of thinges, as the di­uerse euent which fol­lowes from the same meanes and industry. often dis­penses with it, to make man see the true ORIGINALL, ra­ther then Flesh should chal­lenge any part; or Fathers think they bee the sole efficients. For it is nowe made a common argument of the SONNES folly, if the FATHER bee more then commonly wise. And I am very much perswa­ded, that this (if nothing else) may assure the Polititian of some supreame disposer who [Page 58] giues warning to his presump­tionNihil dat quod non habet, [...] non habet [...] nam S [...] habu [...]sset daret. His polli­cies are not his owne: For hee would then impart thē haeriditari­ly to his issue. through the plague of a foolish Heire; that hee may o­uer-value himselfe at his owne perill: seeing hee hath his owne workmanship before his eyes, to argue against him, and his arrogant couceit. Bee it sufficient therfore that cunning Nature, which principally and commonly workes out each na­turall mans existence by causes well knowne, Matter, For me, and Priuatio est [...] [...]acuum [...] principium [...]otus: scal: 15. Exerc. Priuation, is not able in things essentiall, to distribute any par­ricle without Diuine proui­dence: So the Eldest naturally inherites nothing as by peculi­ar claime, but sencelesse linea­ments of body. Howsoeuer, most conuenient it is, that euery one by birth ennobled, either by single priority, or pri­ority vnited to noble parentage [Page 59] should seeke to accomplish the part of nature vndone in more then complement, ciuill silence, or common passages; and make the birth absolute. For Man, a sluggish Creature, (prompt e­nough to decline after satietie) seemes naturally to be Partes ho­mines sumus non homi­nes. Scal: de sub. vnfur­nished, that hee might not be vnbusied. So nature hath left much imperfect, to intimate by the vacant absence of some things needfull, that mans la­bour should make things vse­full. Nature affoords timber, but workmanship the structure: the earth produces Ore, but Art the Siluer: Nature giues plants, Knowledge the vse: Among all which she doth require a more ample and lesse supplement, ac­cording to the value, raritie or estimation of the thing. For Chymicks knowe, the more [Page 60] pretious mettals aske more paines in extraction of the true quintessence, then baser Mine­rals: Gold is the seauenth time purified, & then becomes beau­tifull: besides the qualitie of things more pretious, ought still to bee made answerable to the things value. Couragious horses bee managed with curi­ositie: delicate voyces bee sele­cted to learne harmonies, whilst harsh and strong voyc'd cryers bee ridiculous. Diamonds, not glasse, become pure mettall, and rich garments haue much cost­ly appearance. High blouds likewise be the fittest recepta­cles for high actions; but if a sackecloth bee embroydred, the adiunct may deserue honor, though the ground-worke be Plebe [...]an: and men of vp-start Parentage may, in respect of [Page 61] braine, take place before Nobi­litie, though their persons bee odious. Our selues and parents, or instructors, be the secondary causes which protract or abre­uiate, enrich or impouerish, our owne destinies. For either wee are driuen with fatal obstinacie; to ouer-take fortune through a selfe-will; else, by the negli­gence of education, or being not season'd in minority, our stupid dulnesse giues Fortune leaue to ouer take vs through want of prouidence. High birth is so farre from priuiledge to exempt any from these, as it ap­proaches neere to miserie, when shame is vnpreuented; & makes destinie notorious.

I know no difference there­fore betwixt the degrees of Fortune, if Birth alone makes the comparison. For which is [Page 62] more predomināt, if one of ob­scur [...] fortune becomes publike by meritts, returning to his first ranke if he transgresse; or if one descended Nobly, doth but de­serue himselfe, and family, through great engagemēts, be­ing ready to descēd below him­selfe if hee miscarry: and be as publike in disgrace, as vpstarts in applause? For this Age of In­nouation is fitter to behold one swimming to a remote shore, thē to consider how happily the inhabitants be there delighted: fitter I mean, to see new actions, & actiue spirits proceeding, then the maintenance of honor pro­ceeded: and fitter to behold one falling from a rock, then from a stumbling mole hill. So that if Noble-men aduanced, cōti [...]ue so; & ambitious Ge [...]try, nay or basenesse, do aspire and thriue, [Page 63] I see no difference: if ruine thre [...]tens both, the last trans­cends in outward happinesse.

The best similitude which makes diuersity, reaches but thus farre: I see an embroydred empty purse, and stoope to view it narrowly, because the outside glisters: I spurne a grea­sie [...] before me, and heare the sound of siluer: I take both, keepe both, and will esteem the coyne aboue the empty purse, and yet preferre the outsides a lone not both alike; because the one is capable and beautious al­ready, the other doth containe al­ready, but can [...]euer be beaute­ous: No more then vpstarts, though renowned in meritts, can euer t [...]ke Nobility of Birth: beause it will demand successi­o [...] to con [...]irme antiquity.

So that enobled fortunes (be­ing [Page 64] an outward beauty) shal but make me more willing (as an embroydred purse [...] to see their in-sides; not to enlarge their va­lue: when as perhaps one basely obscure, shall more purchase my reuerence, though lesse at­tract my labor to discouer him.

As for the chiefe ornaments which qualifie great parentage, they should bee such a [...] make most in the aduancement of a Common wealth: which be the maintenance of publike Lawes and Iustice; they being the ho­nor of a common-wealth. And well doth it [...] that high­nes makes lawes florish. For see­ing Lawes receiue their liues from the concordance of No­bility; it must (by good coniect­ure) follow, that strength of law (which is a iust proceeding) would, through the coūtenance [Page 65] of Nobility, receiue more cre­dit & reuerence. But oftentimes aduancement is so ill bestowed, that eitherit makes mens dispo­sition worse; or nothing better. As wee read of meates dressd a­mong the African Kings, (and namely by Mulleasses King of Al­gier,) which meates were made infinite costly with perfumes, but neither toothsome nor wholsome: And such perfumed Peacocks, be worthles men dig­nified. Though sometimes the visible dignity of persons, doth attract sluggish or obstinate be­holders with vnanimity or ter­ror.

Thus ignorant men (vnac­quainted with our state of que­s [...]ion) will often wish within themselues, That a Dunce or Coward may preuaile before the Combate, because they in­cline [Page 66] more to the reputation of his posture, fame, or person, then to his fellowes: which loue doth (notwithstanding) some­times vanish into feare, adora­tion, or a reverend conceit. The very name of Crumwell was able to disseuer insurrections; so much was hee credited with an opinion of sincere grauitie. And it may almost seeme a positiue truth, that noble and heroycall spirits are at the first sight tru­sted with mens best opinions: It is needfull therefore that the merits of a noble birth, should be rewarded sooner, (though they be lesse worthy) then of a new proficient▪ because great­nes claimes dutie to their per­sons as well as to their merits. But there is nothing more al­lied to faction then for a great­begotten to preuaile in gouerne­ment [Page 67] before his time; or to attaine the greatest [...]ignities before he knowes their mea­ning. Such vndeserued honours are of Appi [...]n noted with a mu­tinous badge, & a contempt of publike orders: (for saith he) when S [...]lla was dictator, he con­firmed this Law to strengthen his diuision, that those who did in his desence partake with him, should be entitled to the state and dignities before their time. To bee a man generally famous, doth oftentimes dispense with comelinesse of personage, and purchaseth full applauded suc­cesse in euery dispatch vnder the pattent, of hauing beene generally commended. That many▪fold * historian hath ob­ [...] [...] Maximus. a profitable way which maketh the sonnes of honour famous.

[...] literarum monum [...]nta,
Ad [...]uta militaris [...],
Aucta senatorum [...],
[...] illus [...]rem [...].

To beautifie and enrich lear­ning, to nou [...]ish and help wars­knowledge, to multiply and to aduance the power of Magi­strates, haue made an vpstart (much more the sonnes of ho­nour) famous. But if popular fam [...] bee not gracious, then or­naments of body, comlinesse, and behauiour, must be conco­mitant with High-birth to relish their imployments and beget o­pinion. For single birth, with­out additions, is no generall to command an Armie, or to [...] with multitudes: which (in or­der of reason) should be a No­ble and generous intention be­cause birth is sooner capable of respect only, then base agents.

[Page 69]By this caution therefore didRosinus. lib: 2. Angelius: lib. 5. c: 13. the Noblest Romans apply them­selues to take the patronage of Plebeians; accounting it the most honourable entrance, to imploy their efficacie of birth, by the protection of poore Clients, or otherwise illiterate Citizens: The frequencie of which custome made Nobilitie famous. High-birth is reasona­bly to be commended if it can escape dishonor, though it come short of honor: if it be made no Licence for oppression; althogh it scantly doth releeue oppressi­on. But vices in any kinde fastening vpon authoritie, and great persons be most danger­ous: for though they be per­swaded to forsake them; yet certaine Sinkes and gutters, (as in great Citties) be still waiting vpon bloods of honour: follow­ers [Page 70] I meane, who be ready to weare the Lord and masters vi­ces for a speciall cognisance or fauour: and so conuey absurdi­ties and humors oftentimes downe from the head into the feete and body. It is an excel­lent signe of mans participation with diuinitie, to discerne and iudge of nature. This therefore should be the singular part of instruction among Noble pu­pils, and all that would become proficents, to rectifie, allay, and augment nature: which can­not bee by a restraint, but by giuing free libertie to enioy all, that so the worst may bee re­moued: For when we say, Na­tura currit, wee must conceiue, Nature hath tasted: for Ignoti nulla cupido. And by the conse­quent, whilst wee dote vpon things absent, our inclination is [Page 71] discouered.

From hence therefore did [...]hrma know [...] lou [...]d the Image of his Satyre, because when hee heard his house was burnt, he asked onely if the Sa­ [...]yre were safe: So when wee haue once enioyed, and now lacke our custome, desire will bee manifest.

It is not therefore wisdome to correct the natures of any, much lesse of Noble ones, by keeping them in covert from the worlds e [...]e, vnlesse they bee appoynted for a Monasterie For that which wee cannot d [...]e, because we know not, wee dare doe freely when wee are ac­quainted. But Nature beeing discouered, by hauing once enioy­ed, yeares will then easily ad­mit a contrarietie. And as Wormewood, rubbed vpon [Page] the nipple of a Nurses Teate, [...] the [...]hilde; so thy dete­station, or continuall inuectiue against that vice which thou wouldst abolish in another, makes it vnsauory, sooner then rage or violenc [...]. For th [...]se be able to make him, not abandon the vice, because he abhorres thee; and in despight will keepe it, [...] eye seruice: whereas [...] being [...]ared for its owne sake, ( [...] is de­forme [...]) th [...] [...] of this [...] may bee still belo­ued.

Vicious men may, without question, bee entertained by Princes, and giue much moral­litie: prouided alwayes, that apprehensiue natures be neere hand, to make applications. For Then as an Apes heart (it selfe being a most timorous Crea­ture) [Page 73] being well applyed, be­ [...] courage in the patient: So Cowards, Epicures, and blas­phemous persons, may (by good compositions) produce Valiancie, Abstinence, and Hu­militie in Princes: but poysons bee a dangerous phisicke, with­out skilfull professors. It is the happines of some natures to need lesse instruction: And a­mongst all instructions we must be guided by the natures aptnes some being prouokd most by reading, some by perswasion, some by reproofe, others by company. As in a Fence­schoole, some profit by resolu­tion wholy, some by rules, some by disdaine to be offended, some by seeing others.

Indeed the study to discerne Nature in Noble persons, should bee equiualent to their [Page 74] owne disquisition of nature in others; for seeing they ought by superintendence to ouer­looke man, they should be per­fect in the Character of Man: bearing their best Librarie a­bout them. But vices punisha­ble in a priuate man, may haue a little tolleration in great per­sons; because he (hauing no such temptations) hath aduan­tage in obseruing a strict honest course: It being the neere tem­tation of bad dealing in euery man, and most especially in great ones to haue a power to commit and to conceale a mis­chiefe: they may commit much: it will not be denied: and if their wisdomes [...], they may conceale more thē others: The chiefest meanes they haue to conceale, is to [...] against the crime they honour: [Page 75] By which means, Rosinus. Seruius Sulpi­tius Tribune of the people ha­uing framed a Law that none a­mong the Senators should run in debt aboue a thousand Drach­maes, thought it a safe Licence for himselfe to exceed the quan­titie: and therfore was he found in debt, after his death, aboue three hundred Myriads; amoun­ting to three hundred times ten thousand Drachmaes. The to­tall dutie of men greatly-noble is by the Laconian Ages [...]aus. Prince deli­uered in two precepts; the know­le [...]ge to command the knowledge to submit.

They should represent the Lyon, who is noted (aboue all) to carry a most valiant head, and a Maiesticke countenance: imita [...]ing the apparant and in­uisible potencie of high spirits.

Besides (that I may continue [Page 76] this Mythologie) the [...]ecke of a Lyon hath no ioynts; whereby he cannot looke backwards, vn­lesse hee turnes his body: Nei­ther can Princes, without scan­dall to their integrity, seem one thing, and doe another; not turne there faces vpon vertue, and yet be fugitiue in their mo­tion.

The backe of Lyons carries a magnanimous bredth: And all the noble deedes of Ancestors, historicall examples of Mo­narchs, with infinite renowned precepts of former ages, make but one broad backe-president, to strengthen the wisedome of Princes. The bones of a Lyon haue lesse marrow then others; for lasciuious fuell [...]iminisheth valour. The want ot pith there fore makes Oke more durable then Eldar; and contempt of [Page 77] wantonnesse moues Princes to a more settled resolution. Lyons haue an exquisite pro­pertie to smell out their owne aduantage: For it is reported, the male knowes when the Lyo­nesse hath been adulterous with the Panther, by a peculiar sence of smelling: And the wisest part of men worthily descended, is to betray their owne abuses; for men of this ranck are incident to strong delusions. A Lyon sleeps and yet his eies are open: So prouident high Statesmen, that possesse much, cannot haue eyes too many, or too watchful: Neither may absolute man in­curre security. When Lyons deuoure, famine doth inforce them; And when Kings take the sword, a zealous appetite, to sa­tisfie forgotten vertue, should prouoke them. Neither may ge­nerous [Page 78] Natures bee nobly of­fended, except, as by an impul­siue, or sufficient cause, they o­uercome; So by a Heroyicke scorne to malice, they can both swallowe and digest the cause with the conquest. Howsoe­uer it may bee fictitiously re­ported, that Lyons haue (by a miraculous feeling) beene de­fensiue to condemned Martyrs; yet may the obseruatiō affoord thus much morality: That, as a true Noble man may by no meanes receiue a more excel­lent moderation of spirit, and, spur, to greatly-good actions then by a religious feare; so can­not this bee any way expressed better (himselfe being so emi­nent) then in protection of Di­uine Iustice, & good mens cau­ses. It is admirable (if true) to see how generously Lyons haue [Page 79] scorned to be base debtors: In­somuch that it is memorably reported; How Androcles a va­gabond captiue, cured a Lyons paw; In gratification whereof, the Lyon afterwards (when An­drocles was among the Romane Spectacles to bee deuoured) spares, and protects him against a Rampant Pardall: Which car­rieth a double precept for gene­rous natures▪ First, a preserui­tiue against ingratitude, where followers haue beene seruicea­ble; Then a contempt to bee a slauish debtor (if meanes can a­uoide it) especially to base-min­ded Trades men; who vpon sin­gle debts inforce a double in­gagement: Both of credite and restitution: For if you remaine in their bookes for a commodi­ty, you must remaine likewise in their fauour to auoide scandall, [Page 80] reiterations, and commemora tions among all societies. Such is the cōmon treacherous b [...]se­nes of their conditions, though they protest otherwise: Which may exhort any Noble minde to beleeue this Maxime true; Hee hath discharged halfe his reputation among men, that scornes the cr [...]dite of a Cittizen, or indeede any man. Another singular note is fi [...]ed vpon this magnanimous beast aboue writtē; his wrath extends no further then the prouocatiō. And therfore when the Arabian Souldier, charging a Lyon with his Speare, was disapointed of the obiect, and ouer-threw him­selfe with violence; The Lyon returned, and onely nipping his head little (for his presumption) departed quietly. This being confirmed with many famous examples, I may inferre thus [Page 81] much. If it may seeme conue­nient or honorable for Nobility offended, to punish, not respe­cting penitent submissiō (which may without high offences seem tyrannicall) yet if the punish­ment exceed the crime, we may confidently accompt it beastial, and worse. Againe it is notably remembred, that Lyons neuer run away, except they can pri­uately withdrawe, (being ouer­come with multitude) into a se­cure Mountaine, or Wildernes. And I obserue that it ill becoms a braue resolutiō, to enter him­selfe among proiects, from which hee must necessarily re­coyle, except he carries a caute­lous eie, & true circumspection. Lastly, I may conclude this mo­ralized comparison with Aesops controuersy betwixt a Lyonesse and the Fox: The Fox cōmends [Page 82] her owne fruitfull generation, seeming to disgrace the Lyons single birth: to which this an­swere doth reioyne: I bring forth one, and yet that one is a Lyon: Which good allusion may re­moue the curse which some would cast vpon Nobility, be­cause often their children in nū ­ber be inferiour to common prostitutes: But I am well resolued, that the multitude of children reares vp an obscure family, and bringes an ancient stocke to ruine: For among ma­ny base childrens blessings, birth may make variety of fortunes: But among much Noble poste­rity, Fortune doth challenge a more vaste partition; and makes a discontented Heire fit for all innouating purposes; So that one Noble remainder of much antiquity, or one true Lyon of a [Page 83] family (if Art and Nature can be made operatiue) will be a more safe prop to succession, then the doubtfull variety of children. Men obserue it as an infallible rule, that there haue been as ma­ny base originals, as there haue beene honorable descents. For, as questionlesse the largest Ri uers bee deriued from lowely Springs; So birth and successi­on haue beene so basely inter­mingled, so casually interrupted so frequently impaired, and very often attainted (though with ab­solution) that I may well iustifie the first principle, and adde fur­ther: That generally, to main­tain the noble estate of dead An­cestors, requires as much true policy, as to erect a new Family. For men may clime better by troublesome, rough, and dange­rous passages, then stand totter­ing [Page 84] vpon the eminent spi [...]e. But to exceed the patterne of hero­icke Ancestry, deserues perpe­tuall commendations. Which purpose cannot prosper well, except they preuent or auoide oppositions: They hauing been the ouer-throw of Kingdomes, and flourishing Captaines; be­cause prosperity is waspish, and brooks no competition, nor al­most assistance. The Plutarch. Historian therefore saith well: None more deafe to counsell then natures vn­thwarted: None more obtemperate to bee counselled, then men destitute. As for that ambitious extasie, which makes men indirectly consult of new addition; the Fa­ble doth condemne it wisely: For like Esops Dog, they snatch at shadowes, and loose the cer­tainty, who dote vpon such co­uetous desires. Ambition being [Page 85] like Amilcars dreame: Who atValerius [...]. the seige of Siracusa was by a Dreame perswaded that hee should supp that night in Siracu­sa: which hee interpreting on victories behalfe, would not re­moue the seige: At length by an excursion hee was taken priso­ner: which verified his dreame: For he did sup in Siracusa but, as a captiue: Ambition also makes men dreame they shall be safely guarded in their proiects: But they then little dreaming to be guarded otherwise thē Princes: doe verifie their dreames by be­ing safely guarded as prisoners. Or Ambition is like the Phrigian Riuer historified by Fenestella: Fenest: lib: de Sacer: Rom [...]e: 1 [...]. Which water procured Frenzy as desertlesse longing after glo­ry begetts a sencelesse dotage.

Presumption also, and Po­pularitie, be two treacherous [Page 86] cōfederates: The first was neuer good when a Kings fauour was the obiect: so long as Mines & Countermines haue beene the Court-deuises. The last will ne­uer be good: So long as people doe but conduct their fauorites to the Scaffold, and cry Alas, it is pitty: but who can helpe it? The first cānot thriue, because offen­ces with Kinges out-weigh me­rits: Thē how distracted a thing is it, to preserue aduācement? se­curity, destroyes men sleeping, while they deserue no punish­ment, but onely because no re­ward: And pollicy destroyes men waking: It doth consume our liues in iealousies and mul­titude of feares: which threaten the most pollitick & highly fauou­red. Popularity is likewise mor­tall, because it breeds a surfet of one dish: nothing but Fame: [Page 87] serued in (like Turkish Rice) by infinite wayters. And shall wee wonder if it choakes him, when hee deuoures all▪ Besides, histo­ry hath tolde vs that there is emi­nent Tacius. danger in the refusall of a Crowne: Meaning (as I conceiue it) that States-men may bee thought too much worthy? and that there is danger in being thought worthy of a Kingdome where others haue more tytle. The best loue therfore that can be bestowed vpon the people, or the best friendship that you can receiue from them, is to suffer them in thinges indifferent, or not to shew a currish seuerity: For (like the Hungarian Heyducks) their wrath is prone to mischief, & their amity is worth nothing in a time of peace: so that indeed to flatter with them & not re­gard them, is a sound propositi­on: [Page 88] For if Coriolanus contemnes their authority, they can abhor his name, & banish his person: or at least banish him from pre­uailing in publike assistance. My rule for popularity, is, that ac­cording to the constitution of the party so affected, it may be nourishment or poyson: If hee be sound in his affections mea­ning Gods honour; applause & popularity conuerts to his en­couragement: If ambitious or selfe-pleasing, it turns to a most harmefull dotage. The safest course (that I can be acquainted with) to confirme and preserue dignities with good approuall; is to bee immutable, honest, and no reported Polititian: For the very name containes (among generall conceits) much pow­der-treason, Atheisme, curses of inferiors, and condemnati­ons [Page 89] of all, except their close mi­nions. An other thing that doth breifely replenish a noble Spirit must be more example, dispatch or quicke perfect motion, then precepts or doctrines: These being the frequent obiect, of painfull Artists, the other being a Rhetoricall inducement to e­stablish the delight of action: In which nothing drawes grea­ter efficacie, then speedinesse and fortunate euent; though both these relie much vpon a contriuing faculty, which is be­gotten by a frequent practise. And therefore it betokens a sluggish feare, and priuate weakenes, when we are loath to enterprise: For a couragious minde gets perfection through quick desire, aboue many mens longer custome: but when ap­petite failes I perceiue no sto­mack [Page 90] of Nobility. It may seeme somewhat conrrouersiall, whe­ther state-knowledge, or mili­tant resolutions be more grace­full to generositie; And questi­onlesse, I conceiue few Romane Senators, or not any (except Cicero) were vnsufficient to lead an Army, as well as to deliuer an opinion in the Councell­chamber: both be so vnsepara­bly annexed, as we may hardly thinke he aduises the Common­wealth louingly, who is afraid to iustifie the Common-wealths quarrell; whē himselfe adiudges it lawfull. The pompe or mag­nificence of mighty persons, may now become a festiuall day better then common policy: for this age doth not so soone con­clude the royall minde, as the fantasticke humour, by expence of needlesse brauery; accomp­ting [Page 91] that rather magnificence, when we expend our owne about the Kingdomes glory: which by reflexe produces an apparant loue, and feare toward such ac­tiue spirits. For all men reue­rence him truely, who is impar­tiall, and industrious to aduance equitie, or to confirme good­nesse with goodnesse among all. And howsoeuer the full sto­macks of men will hardly suffer them to commend such worthy ones aliue; yet haue their deaths been alwaies deplorable. wher­as polliticke braines with false bottomes, haue found a pub­lique curse, which was before restrained with authority. Taci­tus giues an excellent praecept touching the report of Princes liues when they be dead; and saith they raild vpon their Empe­rour Vitellius being dead, whom [Page 92] being aliue they flattred: and yet presently he doth annex; The bountie and plaine meaning of Vi­tellius were his ruine: Both which may seeme a riddle: for bounty & honest meaning be two pre­seruatiues for honour: But then he giues a most lawfull reason, because they were not handled with discretion. In a word good ornaments accomplish great persons: and good ornaments are as a sweet oyntment: now if oyntments be powred vpon the feet, the sauour goes vpward in­to the nostrill (as Diogines noted) but being rubbed vpon our head the vapour vanishes: and so it often falls out that fruites of knowledge ascend vpwardes from men of base condition to the nostrills of Princes: wheras the sauour & profit of their own studies dies before them: but [Page 93] oyntment powred and not rub­bed vpon ou [...] head runs downe about the garments; and plen­ty of knowledge in great per­persons imparts it selfe to o­thers. I dare not become an In­structo; it appertaines to found Professours: Neither can I re­proue; it may incurre the name of Malapert. I labour onely, to proue by a perswading reason;Plutarch in vita A­ [...] at v­ [...] labor et industria [...] culpā, &c. which is nothing burbare coun­sell. As for Nobility, if it beare the name of Legitimate, it will beare a contempt also (with A­gesilaus) to be reproued, when paines may happily discharge their function. Neither at any time shall high births aspire to hazardous downfalls, if they [...]heophra­stus. esteeme honor as the reward of v [...]rtue, no vertue in it selfe. And vertue to men truly Noble is most welcome when it is most [Page 94] difficult; not where necessitie doth make a vertue, but where they can doe otherwise and will not: for I account it a signe much nobler when we neglect vertue because we are compel­led, and haue not licence to meet disaduantage; then if we feare some greater disaduan­tage By not being vertuous, and [...]o by a compulsion proue vertu­ous: As I account him a more vertuously sublimed spirit, who hauing little meanes and poore estate exceeds his compasse, on­ly for this reason, because he cannot be abstinent in aboun­dance, then him who fearing pouerty, discredit or il-name af­fecteth parsimony. For I suppose it a more safe position to say; I cannot be the greatest and therefore wil be nothing vertuous, then, I will be a little vertuous in action, but will haue vertuous meaning.

Of Disinheritance. Essay. VI.

IT is more impossi­ble for an vnnatural Father to bee a true friend, then for an abused sonne, to be an obedient sonne: because I think it is a sound precept; That hee whose disposition findes a soone-moued contrariety be­twixt himselfe and his vndoubt­ed children, must (of necessity) bee a man who refuses all men, except aduantage pleades for them; Seeing he neglects those, for whom nature pleades, if ad­uantage be absent. The same may be inferred concerning all degenerate kinsfolke, though in a lesse degree. But for the first I haue obserued it generally; that [Page 96] hee who was apt for Disinheri­tance, hath been a man alwayes of as many affections, as there be faces: And as prompt to re­fuse any, as to receiue any, if hee might saue by the bargain. How­soeuer sub [...]ects be now growne so tyrannicall, that where pre­tences may accomplish their malice, they cānot thinke there is a God, or, at least, they thinke God fauours their proceedings. For calumnious pretences, and aggrauated trifles haue been the common glosse of Parents cru­elty in this kinde: Their presi­dent is vulgar: for tyrants neuer slew without state-Alchimy, or multiplicatiō of pretēded trea­sons: neither may Alexander lack occasiō, so long as he had a mea­ning to kill [...]. The hung­ry Woolfe may call the Lambe his debtor, but a good stomack [Page 97] is the day of payment, and the Prouerbe is well verified: Facile est invenire baculum quo cedas canem. If thou wouldst beate a Dog heere is a staffe. So that although churlish Parents pretend iust causes of dis­inheritance, yet these are quickly found, soone allowed, and as soone amplyfied. From whence you may gather, that no sparke of naturall affection but onely a compulsiue maintenance, keeps the reference betwixt such Pa­rents, and such children. For louing nature and affection be tractable, of long forbearance, much pitty, manifest care; and keep an establisht forme of affa­bility, with which friendes or kinsfolk be vnacquainted: This prouokes an eminent reflexe of loue; whereas rough carriage begets loue in Curres, but a con­remptible scorne in Noble Spi­rits. In a milk-white table, one [Page 98] blot is more visible, then forty in a browne paper: And in a continued louing vsage, one re­proofe is more preuaileable then fifty in a vsuall crabbednes. For common noyses go not be­yond our eares; but a sudden clamor startles the whole man. It is therefore more commen­dable to follow the extreame of vertue abounding, then defectiue: The first partakes with medio­critie in the nature: but the last is altogether opposite. We may then more safely allow indul­gence, then austerity: because it approcheth neerer to true loue. For though indulgence hath made children lofty in behaui­our towardes others, yet (I ob­serue) it breeds a true and vndi­uorced affection towards the o­riginall cause. It is therefore an excellent rule, for children, to [Page 99] bee any way restrain'd without the Parents knowledge, or at least their taking notice: wher­by Nature cānot grudge against Nature, nor yet want reprehen­sion For howsoeuer Marcus Cato said well: That hee had ra­ther be vnrewarded for doing wel, then vnpunished for offen­ces: Yet we haue naturally a se­cret spleene against the Iudge, though wee account him righ­teous and impartiall. It must be expected then, that children doe knowe a difference betwixt Fathers and Maisters; which makes them the more implaca­ble, when they see Nature im­partiall. From hence Sertorius, a politicke Captaine, would not himselfe represse the disobe­dience of his Souldiers; least, howsoeuer they deserued ill, yet his correction might take a­way [Page 100] their louing duty: Which respect made him suffer the ene­myes incursions, rather to scourge their insolence, whilst they, out of a hare-brained lu­nacie desire battaile. And thus the sacred decree of Correction may bee kept vnuiolate, and the loue of children vnblemished. For I am vnanswerably perswa­ded, that Parents wrath dimi­nisheth the childes loue, mak­ing him seruile or else refracto­ry to the doctrine of thēselues & others; because they cannot vndertake with delight, so long as frownes and feare be crept into their fancy. But affable Parents beget truely affectionate Chil­dren, who may endure another mans reproofe to mittigate the name of Cockney, and yet louing­ly adore the Father because hee was alwayes louing. So then [Page 101] the Fathers diligent loue, and a Tutors modest instruction, may make a seldome-seene Heire af­fect his Fathers life without hy­pocrisie, and proue a venerable wise man. Without which loue apparant, or oftentimes indul­gence, I see an eldest sonne, in stead of the Fathers blessing, render backe sweating curses. I see another inclining onely to the mother; and a third, slippe into the disinherited Fortune.

The comaedian therefore saithTerentius. In [...]aeau­ton. well touching a fathers dutie: I ouer-passe expences, I call not eue­ry thing to a strict account; and that which other sonnes labour to keepe secret, I doe not bitterly condemne in mine, least many things should [...]ee concealed; for hee that (through a [...]ugged vsage) depriues his father (by false excuses) of a youthfull er­ror, will soone deceiue others. In­deede [Page 102] mistrust makes children disobedient: for I doe make it a most equall question; whether more men haue deceiued o­thers because they haue beene distrusted; or whether more men haue distrusted others because they haue beene de­ceiued? It is more auailable then, to gouerne by liberalitie, not base compulsion: for he that thus becomes obedient, expects onely till he may wan [...] the wit­nesse of his actions. But the co­micall Poet saith truly; Patres aequum esse censent nos iam iam a puerisillico nasci senes. Now for the danger arising by parents vnkindenesse (it hauing beene propounded, that want of loue breedes disinheritance) I will demonstrate, first how horrible, second vnlaw [...]ull, and third im­possible, disinheritance may be [Page 103] well accounted. The diuorce of mariage is a weighty case, much forbidden, much controuerted; because mariage it selfe is made a strict vnion; so farre, as Hus­bands seeme incorporate with their Wiues, being both to bee taken as one flesh. But this vni­on admits many exceptions; neither may any thinke their be­ing made one, extends further, then the rhetoricall aggrauati­on of vnitie; to insinuate how difficult a thing Diuorce will be betwixt two, so narrowly vni­ted: but children haue a more exquisite property of indiuorce­able; because they really partake with parents by existence: deri­uing a particular & true strength of body from the parents body. And therfore it seemes the mat­ter of disinheritance is a thing so odious, as (being held impro­bable [Page 104] to be acted among the Iewes, or any Nation) no Law of Scripture contradicts it. In­deed rebellious sonnes are by the verdict of Diuine iniuncti­on, to suffer death, if they shall strike the parents, or rise vp a­gainst them: But for the matter of Disinheritance (which farre transcends the punishment of death) I haue read no sillable that may giue the tolleration of Diuinity. Death indeed, cōpara­tiuely respected, may be thoght the best wages of a rebellious son: for the act includes his full sentēce; because to smite his pa­rent, is to seek the destruction of his efficient cause: which act keeps within it so much ingrati­tude, as heauenly Iustice can do no lesse then remoue him who seeks to remoue his begetter; it being an inseperable part of ho­linesse, [Page 105] to pay offenders with their own coyne. But disinheri­tance so much exceeds death, as it approches to a continued tor­ment. Death is so far from mise­ry, where men expiate offences, as it affoords felicity▪ because it giues a present satisfaction, and a present hope to enioy a good portion; if penitence, and a sa­tisfactorie minde be compani­ons. But disinheritance, or ab­dication, doth not onely en­force death, but makes the circumstance tyrannicall.

A violent death is but an a­bridgement of nature; but dis­inheritance doth often bring a violent death, and enlarge the wickednesse of nature. I see no difference betwixt them in the conclusion: for death is an ef­fect cōmonly of disinheritance; but no death more excludes all [Page 106] humanitie. the case is palpable. I giue directions to a traueller: he arrogantly contemnes my counsell; which doth so much prouoke me, as (to amend the matter) I draw him by compul­sion to an apparant ambush; in which, after many sustained a buses, horrible vexations, and desperate encounters, hee con­cludes his life with infamie; or perhaps blasphemy. So, cur­rish and cruell parents, by dis­inheritance deale euery way answerable to this similitude. The horror of which Athisme is the more amplified, by so much as naturall affinitie claimes a more humane pre­sident then strangers. Ba­nishment or abiuration is tole­rable: for it takes originall by publicke decree, superior coun­sell, and authority of those, from [Page 107] whom I can chalenge nothing but iustice: whereas disinheri­tance, a Nationall banishment (transcending forraine exile in the Cause and Manner) proceeds from priuate occurrences, that cannot reach so high an affliction; because the nature of it is equall to, nay aboue, pub­licke iustice. Our law hath pro­uidently dislik'd the dealing: for it appeares by Glanuile chiefe iustice in the raigne of Henry the Second, Lib. 7. Cap. 2. fol. 44. That if a man had lands descen­ded to him, and (hauing many sonnes) desired to bestowe some portion of it on some of the younger; this could not be accō ­plished without his elder sons agreement: only for this rea­son, saith Glanutle, that the [...]ather (who did oftentimes most doa [...]e vpon the you [...]ger sons) should [Page 108] not disinherit his eldest. Now it may well be esteemed inhu­mane, when parents punish with rigor, where the Lawe con­demnes not, because in euery offence highly punishable, the Law is open: if that condemnes, the Parents loue may a little bee excused, though he doth not excuse his sonnes accu [...]ation; but where himselfe exceedes the Lawes rigor, when the Law is silent, and becomes Accuser, Iudge, and Executioner, wee may discouer a damnable flintie heart; apt enough for massacre; seeing he first playes the tyrant with his owne image.

Parents therefore cannot ar­gue and say (except Disinheri­tance) they haue no remedie for disobedience; seeing there is no crime that may deserue so great satisfaction, but the Law [Page 109] is all-sufficient to render Iustice and saue them vnpreiudiced in the aspersion of Vnnaturall: which title Disinheritance, draws with it inseperate. For if we take a view of those impulsiue causes which breed occasion; we shall perceiue how accessary Parents be to all their childrens vices; and by the consequent, how culpable they are to punish that so strictly, of which themselues be Authors. Shall the best man liuing suppose himselfe an au­thor of things simply good, though in the strength of wis­dome, religion and thoughts, rectified, he doth performe them? And shall wee not then say, that, a Father is the impotēt cause of error, when hee cannot perform a worke of goodnes in his own-begotten, or why shal any man expect things differing frō [Page 110] his end? and by the consequent, why shall any man expect vertu­ous children? for if the wisest & religious man could be exa­min'd, I know he would con­fesse, that either Lust or a vain­glory, or both together haue inter-mixt themselues with his most pious end of generation: so that if children haue any goodnes, they cannot thanke their parents as the authors: But if they doe abound with mis­chiefe they may thanke their pa­rents chiefly. Is it not therefore a strict dealing when parents will not recompence an iniury, by a forgiuenes of that cor­ruption which they themselues imparted? Setting aside the position which makes Chil­dren participate with Parents in vices liable to constitution, we may (without these) demon­strate, [Page 111] how guilty they are of each notorious crime in Chil­dren, through a pouertye of rectified education. [...]or as, in naturall productions, nothing is so absurd, from which Art can­not extract a deer quintessence; so among naturall men, and the conditions of humanitie, no­thing is so irregular, from which elaborate and true instructiue methode cannot produce a Di­vine excellence. Indeed the disquisition of natures is difficult and much politicke labour be­longs to the true si [...]ting of a peruerse disposition. But que­stionlesse, the worst natured a­mong all bad men, are, by a true seasoning of minoritie, a wise progresse, or institution of ripe yeares, and an alluring motiue of practises well commen­ded; they are capable of good­nesse, [Page 112] subdued in mischiefe, and apprehensiue in a sufficient measure. So that we must not ignorantly impute the curse of Children to a wrong cause, see­ing it is either the curse of the Parents; not to instruct children at all; not sufficiently; or not in the true manner. Examples are infinite: Alc [...]hiades may include all. He, a voluptuous and sensu­all Swaggerer, could neuer be reclaimed by many strong expe­riments; till cōming by chance to the Philosophicall Lecture of Socrates, he was sodainely con­uerted: such a sympathie there was betwixt this Philosophers doctrine, and the Disciples at­tention; whereas twenty others might perhappes haue beene frustrate in the same conuersi­on, though their Precepts had beene equall, because there is [Page 113] an invisible concordance to make them aequiualent.

Which manner of instructi­on, respecting the quality and person, of method and Tutors, be matters onely appertaining to the Parents charge. Now (if a curse imposed vpon them, be a hinderance to them both, whereby they neither can be prouided of true Instructors or instructions) Shall we accuse the Childe as an Author of the Fathers curse, or the Fathers curse now being, as an origi­nall of the childes future incon­veniences?

This being concluded, we may well inferre, concerning disinheritance, that parents cur|'ses bee the onely causes which prouoke it (seeing they might sometimes, but doe not, and doe not sometimes because [Page 141] they cannot, ingraft goodnes, by their owne ignorance) and being so they resemble Helioga­balus, who hauing procured his friends drunkennes, would cast the miserable wretches among tame Beares and Lyons, to ter­rifie them when they awaked. But herein they differ: hee was the voluntary cause of his Friends; Parents, the vnaduised cause of their Childrens error: In stead of which mitigatiō, hee threw his friends among tame Beares & Lyons: Parents, by dis­inheritance, throw their issue a­mōgst rampant Wolues. For be­sides the perplexed infamy, and sorrowfull perturbatiōs of such excluded Cast-awayes, what shall wee coniecture touching their desperate resolution? Or how shall wee condemn, if they bee suddenly ouerthrowne by [Page 115] the full necessity of destructi­on? Seeing their destitute fortune inuites them to im­brace each glistering temptati­on, and to shake handes with ca­lamity. I cannot (for mine own part) comprehend all this with­out remembrance and pitty of such Parents rnines; seeing they cānot discharge all, before chil­dren haue incurred destruction without them. Nothing is writ­ten which doth not amplifie our instruction (saith Diuinity) & nothing amongst all is more effectuall then true Obseruations, except Diuinity. Most ingene­ous therefore and full of per­swasion, may that Morality bee, soone collected from insensible creatures: They haue an excel­lent and singular loue (each creature in his kinde) to nourish vp their weake little ones. The [Page] hunted Lyonesse dryues her whelpes before. The pregnant Beare forsakes not her den vntil she be deliuered; neither doe the whelpes come forth vntill they can escape danger. The Snake swallowes her young, if any disaduantage happens. And aboue all, most admirable is na­tures ingenuity, touching that forraine creature, called Su; which (being persecuted) shuts vpp her Cubbes in a depending scrip, & so protects them from the Huntsman. The multitude of examples would bee tedious. [...]riefly therfore, it is an obserued note among them; they neuer forsake their infantry till it be a­ble euery way like themselues) to preuent mischiefe. This may rebuke all hasty-minded Pa­rents, who (notwithstanding the discursiue light of reason) can [Page 117] cast off meere Humanity, and goe beneath a brutish goodnes of Nature, not onely to forsake, but to abhorre their issue; and leaue them destitute, before they bee any way enabled to su staine nature. For children bee indeed thus reiected euer, be­cause they be vnable. Might it be so imagined, that our poste­rity (like beastial generation) could, when they bee at full growth, require no houses but the vaile of Heauen; no nourish­ment but the next pasture; no cloathing but the Robes of na­ture, no supportation against misery, but instinct, & dulnesse, then Parents might forsake and proue vnblameable: But excel­lency and sweet composure, de­maund in vs a more respected fortune. Omitting these indif­ferent allegations, which some [Page 118] may account Sophistry, rather then sound precept, because they beleeue nothing but what Scripture makes apparant; nor that can be accepted among them, vnlesse no Christian con­tradicts it; neither can that which all acknowledge, win of­tentimes any more then weake beleefe: It shall bee therefore sufficient to confute this error in question, by the soundest proofe, and then the vnbeliefe of Humorists will serue to mul­tiply their condemnations.

Wee cannot (where things be left vntouched in Scripture) as­sume a safer patterne then the most absolute quallities of our Maker. First then, that Meta­phoricall affinitie, of Father and Son, which himselfe hath plea­sed to entertaine betwixt Him­selfe and his Elected, may serue [Page 119] to instruct Parents (without question) in all degrees of duty, and inseparate relation.

Now all agree vpon this prin­ciple, that whomsoeuer God hath once loued, him hee hath loued [...] de libe [...]tate he m [...]: pag [...] 415. [...] quando se­mell access [...] runt ad [...] Sanctorum d [...]ficere [...] dem aliqu [...] do poss [...]n­sed [...] totaliter & sin a [...]er. [...] meas nemo [...] ­cte manu me [...]. Ioh. 10 28. euerlastingly. It is impossible therefore, if at any time there hath been Ami­ty bttwixt Father and Sonne, that this (being obserued) it should fal away to disinheritāce. For if Gods Maiestie descend so lowe, as to continue his loue alwaies where He hath begun to Loue: shall not imitation hereof be requisite in fathers, who bee commanded to loue their children, and in whom na­ture exacts more proportion, then in the least degree can be imagined betwixt holinesse and fr [...]ilty? each circumstance ap­peares so manifest, as I knowe [Page 120] not how Sophisters can colou­rably distinguish. A second in­stance may confirme this presi­dent. God neuer hath forsaken the most wicked Reprobates, till they haue voluntarily forsa­ken him first: The prodigall de­manded his portion, left his fa­ther, and yet the father willingly accepts him being conuerted. This becomes farre opposite to the practise of our age: so violent is the humor of disin­heriting parents, as they forget common charity, & refuse loue with an extreame scorne of reconcilement. As for the pretended causes which com­monly prouoke parents, I can­not any way cuniecture, that they be either halfe so infinite, or in the least degree so terrible, as those with which all parents prouoke Omnipotence & ther­fore [Page 121] I cannot well see how such fathers can claime the petition of forgiuenesse, when they can­not forgiue their own issue. The heire of a Kingdome entitles himselfe not more iustly to his Crowne, then eldest sons do to their homely inheritance. Now I obserue, that whersoeuer hath beene a succeeding gouerment, there, weake-braind, ryotous, tyrannicall, and lewd Princes, haue been admitted to their dig­nities without contradiction. And doth not the bloud of common heires answere to a Kings priuiledge, in the Title of Legitimate? Why then shall wee not be prouoked with such in­iustice? If children should re­ceiue no more then they de­serue: or if they should claime loues respect, no longer then merits make a full proportion; [Page 122] how should the liberality of pa­rents, and the prerogatiue of children, appeare? or what obe­dience may Fathers aske from such Children, more then from good Apprentices? [...] could intombe his Mares, when they purchased credite in the swift races of Olimpiades. Xanthippus could bewaile his dogges death which had followed his Maister from Calamina. Alexander could erect a Citty in the honor of Bu­cephalus, when he had been long defended by him in many bat­tailes. The Asse may well (among the Heathen) be adorned with Lillies, Violets, and Garlands; when their Goddesse, Vesta, by an Asses voyce, a [...]oyded the rape of Priapus. If merits there­fore should onely challenge the loue of parents, nothing might make a difference betwixt sons [Page 103] and bond slaues: Seeing bare Humanitye, and the Lawe of Nations hath accounted the honours of One worthy to bee honoured, nothing but equall and necessarie thankes. Nay, in all ages, so bountifull and respectiue hath authority been to true merits, as euen the desertlesse children haue mette with dignitie to remunerate the fathers worthinesse: Thus did the Athenians bestow great wa­ges, vpon Lysimachus, to gratisie the seruice of Ar [...]stides: And thus the Romans preferred the cause of Marcus Brutus, because his Ancestors had tooke the Coun­tries quarrell against tyrants. Shall fathers then esteeme it such a bad custome to dig­nifie their owne begotten issue, though desertlesse; seeing stran­gers haue done this to congra­tulate [Page 104] good fathers? Two exam­ples there bee, ancient and mo­derne (worth our memory) that shew the practise of our Theam in question; and affoord singu­lar obseruation. The first is e­uident, in the raigne of Agis a Lacedemonian King: In whose principall Citty of Sparta, the custome had prohibited aliena­tions that preiudice the Heire: The custome grew to bee a con­firmed Law: After continuance there sell a difference betwixt one of the highest Magistrates and his eldest sonne: The father was so actually prouoked, that hee exhibites a Decree to li­cence Disinheritance; the De­cree was established: And af­terward (saith Plutarch) coue­tousnesse became publicke: For now men had licence to de­ [...] Families and Es [...]ates, [Page 125] which otherwise should haue descended. From hence my obseruation is double. The prime cause of disinheritance was Fury: And then the com­modity was ranke Couetous­nesse. Lastly, it is apparant by the Tower-rowles, that (during the raigne of Edward the fourth) one Thomas Burdet an English­mā, being somewhat innocent­ly condemned to death (about captious tearmes ignorantly vt­tered) in his way to death espied his eldest Sonne, whom (before) hee disinherited: Him therfore hee penitently receiued; and hauing now confessed seriously, that he felt Gods wrath vpon him onely to punish that vnna­turall sinne, He humbly beg'd forgiuenesse of God, and of his sonne: The application of such a paenitent remorse is easie.

[Page 125]Hauing now marshald vp this troope of Arguments, which (I thinke) are approueable; some (questionlesse) will accoūt them white-liuerd souldiers, drest vp onely with a Rhetoricall habite: But censure is no lesse infinite, then oftentimes odious: Triall therefore shall discharge the in­tegrity of these; whilst I pro­ceed briefly to muster one troope more, whose courage is enough animated by their ad­uersaries weaknes. For if the Birth-right (which intitles an heire) bee inseperate, then the prerogatiue is also inseperate, for Inheritance depends vpon pri­ority, which being vnremouea­ble; the benefit should remaine likewise: It being as monstrous for an Heire to bee without Inhe­ritance, as for a Father to be with­out a Childe: Relations therfore [Page 126] be so depending, that wee may sooner affirme the Sonne and Fa­ther not to be, then Heires and Inheritance not to bee correla­tiues: And by the consequent as lawfully may wee depriue both of Beeing, as we may per­mit the one without the other.

Of Poetry. Essay. VII.

POETRY is called the worke of Dictae sunt res natura­les quae cun­que naturae ordine fie­ren [...]; cum divinitus, insita vi qua subsistunt aptae sunt ad agendū vel pa [...]en­dum: Verro lib: 1. nature: I rather think it a Diuine alacrity, enter­tained by the fitnesse of nature: For if (in generall) a cheerefull spirit partakes of a Diuine influ­ence; then this (being spiritual­ly maintained, with a desire to cōmunicate, and expresse such quickning inuentions) can bee no other, being the soule of ala­crity, [Page 127] then an inuisible Diuine worke; which doth transport nature, whilst nature meruailes at the cause. Aristotle. Philosophy hath diuided our soules faculty; and makes the Intelligent part our principall essence: that cannot perish: Poetry depends on that, and a sublime fancy; they being the helpes of our disposall: Or (to speake truely) a Poet vseth euery function of the soule: De­pending vpon which, hee must reiect Nature▪ For Nature pe­risheth, the Soule cannot. Omnis Apollo in v­niuersa na­tura suam pulsat Ci­tharam. Seal: 836. Exerc. Na­ture is then the Hand-maide; but an Infusiue worthinesse, the soule of Poetry. Conceiue but this, and Nature will disclaime: Na­ture imparts her Faculties by Generation; excluding study & custome: A Poet neuer is en­gendred so, further then a natu­rall Logician, therefore hee ex­ceeds [Page 128] Nature. Poema (vta [...]t Pos­sidonius) est dict [...]o nu­merosa, cer­ta mensu [...]a constans. at (que) prosae orationis speciem ex­cedens: Po­esis est sig­ [...] poema, di­uinarum et humana: &c. Laerti: lib: 7. de vit [...] philo­so: 329. The Stoicks made a difference betweene Po­ema and Poesis, a Poem, and Poe­try: Which difference may well serue to illustate the meritori­ous honour of true Stage-poe­try: That onele being the soule and spirit of Poesis: Other seue­rall Poems, bee the limbes and weake dependants of that hap­py Mistris: For true representa­tion is the spirtit of fancy; and Fancy is the treasure of appre­hension: The nimbly speedines of which, makes a Poet; and that quicke speedinesse, is not in any Poem so much apparant, as in a dramaticke turning. Est enim Poesis significatiuum Poema, diui­narum et humanarum rerum imita­tionem complectens. Poesie is a significant Poem, containing an imitation of Diuine & Humane passages: Which imitation [Page 129] heer intended, is not in any po­em so much verified, as in a na­turall Play: And neuer was in any Nation (it may bee boldly spoken) that elegance and na­ture obserued in Play-compo­sures, which is inhaerent gene­rally to our English Writers at this day. So that we may inuert the wordes of Plautus.

nunc nouae quae prodeunt fabulae multo sunt m [...]liores quae nummi nostri:

And in Nature most equall to these writings, Poetick history approaches neerest: Consisting in the same degree of fancy; and an inuention better furnished.

Wee may obserue a sweet con­cordance in this mighty Fa­bricke: All things are coupled with an allusiue vnion: Life, is a flash of immortality; Sleepe, of death: Middle age of Summer: Arts also, and ages past, haue a [Page 130] similitude with things inferiour, and signifie things future. Lan­guage is likened to a Casket, Logicke to an Artificers Instru­ment, Rhetoricke to a precious Colour: And poetry likewise hath a sit resemblance with pro­phesie: both be an vnutterable rapture; both bee a boundlesse large capacity: Both bee a vni­uersall tractate: Both be cōfined within a small number: Both be discredited with false preten­ders: Both be dispersed among men (originally) obscure: Both bee alike neglected: Both (ge­nerally) contemned alike. Nei­ther could prophets at all times be furnishd to denounce; nor can poets bee at all times furnishd to compose. Poetry is made the conueyance of amorous de­lights: and certainly it doth be­stow much sweetnesse in appar­relling [Page 131] loue-accents. This only might discouer it for a supreme donatiue, seeing the musicke in Heauen is an agreement of soules. Ier [...]me Sauanarola, the Monkish phylosopher, makes poetry a part of reasonable phi­losophy; maintaining this, a­gainst naturall pretenders of po­etry: I will not meddle with his arguments, they are elaborate and learned: The truth is eui­dent without serious proofe.

Verse and Rime bee things na­turall: for they be onely colour and appearance: But if you va­lue the Phrase and the Materials after the same proportion, as thinking your conceit able to furnish a poem, you shall indeed perceiue it likewise naturall, that is, naked, vnpolished, nay the scorne of poetry. A quicke contriuing head may vtter lau­dably, [Page 132] but neuer was a braine so sudden, as to compose well without the president of others in the like kinde: Nay, take the most illiterate Writers, (who propound experience and fa­miliar allusions) they haue a time to Meditate, to compare, to dispose. It is with poets and wri­ters, as with Kinges and Maie­strates: princes accounted wise may liberally incroach on o­thers wealth, and neuer bee ac­counted tyrants: And poets held iudicious may through lazines orignorance make vse of others witts, whilst the reserued store­house which helpes others, shall be thought an empty stable.

Quicquid delirant reges plectun­tur Achiui.

This Art of poetry cannot proue eminent, vnlesse the wri­ter hath a reioycing heart, an ap­prehensiue [Page 133] head, and a disclou­ded fancy. Carmina proveniunt a­mo deducta sereno, saith the poet:

Verses proceed from a dis­burthend braine.

It is impossible therfore for one deiected by calamitie, or one perplexed with questions of an other Science, to get perfection in this free knowledge: I say, perplexed with questions of another Science; because a Poet should rather copiously discourse of all, by application to a witty pur­pose, rather then be exquisite in a particular Art, respecting depth of rule, or quidditie. Notions, coniectures, and some of the best passages, be more sufficient for him, then a praecise certain­tie of rules. Sharpe sause pro­cures appetite; but sharp meats kill the stomacke. And doubtles little griefes be prouocations to [Page 138] reu [...]ue; whereas a multitude of disapointments, weaken Poetry: because they doe embase the spirits: now poetry is the quick­est part of spirit; and therefore soone distempred: as quicke edges are soonest blunted. He therefore who propunds excel­lence, must refuse the multitude of questions, and the Carmina secessum scribentis et otia quoe runt. Our Trist. 3. vexation of miseries: both be as clogges and fetters to that aspiring fa­cultie. From hence I may con­clude the perfection of this Sci­ence doth match the straines of right Alchymie: it being (in both) alike impossible to finde that man who shall directly promise to attaine perfection; because impediments exceed the means. The nourishment of Poetry is good applause: for Poems be­ing made to allure and bewitch the reader in a lesson of morall [Page 139] precept, must prosper in their meaning, or be discountenan­ced: As all professions be, which make mens good opini­ons the reward of knowledge: and therefore hath England af­foorded few men accurate in historicall Poems, because opi­nion hath vouchsafed to ranke her painefull volumes among easie and slight labors: where­as Italians haue proued singular proficients in this kinde of inuen­tion; because (saith Rosinus) au­thority hath graced their ele­gance. So that considering our negligence of historicall Po­ems, it may be well obserued with Plautus, in his prologue to Casina:

Ea tempestate [...] poetarum fuit qui nunc abierunt in cōmunem locum The reason (I thinke) which hath wrought in England such a de­generate [Page 136] value of Poems, pro­ceeded (first) from the professors ignorance & generall basenesse but secondly from the stubborn grauitie of the best readers; who scorne to account the best Poems profitable workes, because all haue hitherto been accounted slight composures, or at best vnprofitable And we imagine it a weaknesse to recant an error. Some haue certainely contemned the wor­thiest labors euenthrough malici­ous, despaire of attempting the like worthily. As in Cynthia's [...]euenge. another place I haue thus noted—

A Poets rapture, Kings haue wishd to feele,
Which some despise because vn­capable.

Howsoeuer, the base opinion which Poetry incurs among vs, hath been repaid with iustice: that is, the discredit of our Na­tion: [Page 137] for our vnder-valuing o­pinion hath depriued the publick of more iudicious workes then be already extant: And so the glory of our Nations eminent wit, hath beene eclipsed with forraigners. Indeed there bee some easie helpes for Poets which artists haue not: I haue reduced them into this number Morning, wine, beautie, health, and Musicke are

The fiue prouoking helps of Poetry.

These together be as the nourishment, not the body: for it is impossible that these should make a Poet; but onely feed the powers of art and nature: which principally doth commend the temperature of Poetry: for as in phisicke so in this, such a food such a blood.

These helps therefore hauing a sweetned puritye, doe shew a [Page 134] most sweet compound in the spirit of poems which suckes their quintessence. As for the priuate and sensible benefit (which any shall conceiue in publishing his labours) I see none vertuous but this: he may excuse (by them) his silent na­ture; and be accounted better, as a Melancholy Poet, then a speech­lesse foole. Fame and Eminence sa­uour of a fruitlesse ambition; that will now purchase nothing for Poetry by preferment, but an opinion that Poetry is his knowledge, and (it being so) that he is fit for nothing els: or some perhaps; nay, the wisest, will bestowe compassion, and say, It is pitty such a pregnant wit should endeuour so idly. These bee the comforts of being famous: let Doaters bee ambitious of it. The deepest poets haue neg­lected [Page 135] verse: I meane the po­lished forme of verse: but I would sooner loue such workes in prose; and heartily intreate such writers, euen for their own dispatch-sake, and the readers also, to abandon poetry, except they can avoyd that crabbed stile and forme, which weakens any readers appetite and appre­hension. Nothing doth so much discouer poetry to be a thing of spirit and quicke substance, as the delight it takes to dwell in flourishing and lusty bloods; when life and all her attributes do most prouoke nature: and therfore shell you see men, who haue tasted poetry in their youth, and feele a diminution by impediments of age labo­ring most commonly to renew their age: And most of all quicken nature by the meanes [Page 140] praemised. Whereas when po­etry is in a full growth the knowne verses may be well ap­plied: shewing it cannot be conceald: ‘Quicquid conabor dicere versus [...]rat.’ And shewing that words will come alone when matter is prouided. ‘Verba (que) peouisā rē non inuita sequuntur:’ Words freely follow a proui­ded wit.

The relish of Poetry is a candied barke: an elegance so sweetned with apt phrase and il­lustration, as it excludes rough harshnesse, & all mysterie: con­trouersies and Philosophicall questions bee therefore impro­per arguments for a Poeticall tractate: they cannot be expres­sed with an inticing libertie. Si­militudes [Page 141] be the fit interpreters of Poets: when I affirme this, I doe not approue all simili­tudes, but such as doe interpret: which they cannot doe, except they be more familiar then the thing interpreted. This con­demnes any, who from a depth in learning, shall produce the Mathematickes, to illustrate Grammer: or shall compare things knowne by repetition to an example in Astronomy. Poore and Prodigall haue been a Poets Titles: these haue been fixt with a contemptiue meaning, but I imagine they aduance his qua­litie: for therefore he neglects wealth, because he feeles with­in himselfe a Iewell which can redeeme his bondage in the worst calamity. Freedome of Braine and Body is a Poets mu­sicke: A peaceable fruition doth [Page 142] preserue, and doth reuiue his fancie. Indeed the liberty of braine makes a Poet: and if that liberty be [...] with crosse [...]ortunes of immediate depen­dance or displeasing casual­ties, the Poet hath no liberty, but only to respect the times oc­casion. When therefore a Re­ward is moti [...]e, it makes the la­bour like it selfe, seruile. Poetry should therefore (being an im­partiall free science) be vnder­taken by the free [...]rosessor; a man sufficient in estate: such a one as need not vse flattery to win re­ward; nor so indite, that things may be dispatched quickly & his wants quickly furnished; nor so dispatch, that hee may rather make things saleable, through obscoenity or scandals, then ap­proued labour: Because while ioyfully they should int [...]nd their [Page 143] poems, they bee too much in­terrupted with a remēbrance of their wants, & be compelled to take a ready course: A course too ready, to be regular: And Ho­r [...]ce himselfe hath said it.

Qui paulum a summo dis [...]essit, vergit ad▪ [...]mum.

And poems made to cherish vp the minde

Being not best are of the ba­sest kinde.

These mischiefes follow a mer­cenarie hope: and therefore be mercenary [...] odious: such (I mean) as are prouoked by po­uerty, & will exact their wages.

Of Discontents. Essay VIII.

PLeasure and Sorrow bee the obiects of vertue: but dis­cōtents be may thought ra­ther [Page 144] the obiects of pleasure. Vertue moderates the folly of pleasure and sorrow: but plea­sure so moderated remoues dis­contents. I reckon discontents among my priuate Sorrow may be ad­mitted in behalfe of publick ca­lamities which can­not bee so well tear­med a Dis­content. sorrowes [...]s which amplifie my owne mis­fortune; which feele the same (perhaps) a greater torment for my friends misery, then my owne: yes, I am better assured of my owne fortitude to con­temne sorrowes, then of my friends aptnesse, to relish my counsels; or of his owne free­dome to advise himselfe: and therefore his vexation (he be­ing my selfe) afflicts me more iniuriously: because I can ouer­come my owne, better then His. I call those properly Discontented who are busie thoughted: who, like brainelesse patients, are al­most desperate if another giues [Page 145] them poyson; and yet (being recouered) they will aduenture to poyson themselues: for ma­ny of this ranke you shall per­ceiue, who hauing passed the discontents which come by o­thers malice, will (of their owne accord) frame new perplexities: They will conceiue thinges o­therwise then they be, and so nourish a conceite till they be­leeue it reall. It is one of mans extreame ignorant follies that he wil fasten his vexation about casuall dreams, and sleepy con­ceits; not meditating whether, and why he wakes. Opinion is indeed the mediate cause of dis­contents; but then a rectified or false capacitie (being an imme­diate cause of rectified or false opinions) begets a true or idle discontent. I call that idle, which is begotten of an idle [Page 146] fancie: such idle discontents are soone expelled; they are cause­lesse Melarcholy, begot by altera­tion, dispersed by alteration: But Melancholy, meeting with a reall cause, becomes a setled mischiefe▪ Howsoeuer, nothing (though most worth our discon­tent) can bee said His or My dis­content, vnlesse we so conceiue it. For certainly, a carelesse re­solution may bee freed from conscience and discontent to­gether: whereas perhaps a nice examining head may so ensnare it selfe with multitude of thoughts, that the confusion may prouoke both: but then a carelesse resolution serues wor­thily to abate such idle, and such reall discontents. For as in natu­rall bodies fasting and food de­stroy and nourish; so in our daily proiectes, consideratiue [Page 147] thoughts and carelesse negli­gence fasten and remoue. The brayne of man is like a pocket Watch, where within little com­passe you may finde great work­manship▪ and the braines of best-witted men are a curious clocke; which by the distem­prature of one wheele, growes distempered in euery one: and indeed the most curious witts which seeke a reason for euery trifle be a distemperature, or affliction to themselues: still growing lesse like a Piramide to­wards the conclusion of their curiosity in searching. Eu [...]lides did therfore answere w [...]ll, when one would presse him in many nice questions of diuinitye; Cetera quidem nescio, ill [...]d Scio quòd dij oderunt curiosos.

Thus much I know the Gods detest a curiosity; [Page 148] The best Plato Galen. Cicero. D. Ihom. Philosophers haue left a doubtfull number of mens perturbations, some as­signe six, some fiue, some foure some eleuen. They might (in my conceit) be all reduced vnto a triple number: including like­wise the very causes of all dis­content. Imagine therefore they proceed first from iealou­sies of whatkind soeuer; either in being contemned, neglected, or ambiguous of good successe: then from doubts not to be resolued, either through weaknesse of our vnderstanding, or intricacie of the question, then from an ex­treame desire, either of things difficult or impossible. To iea­lousies, and such desires, all are incident; to doubts and questi­ons, Schollers or Scholler▪ like heads onely: these comprehend the summe of all our crosses: of [Page 149] all our sorrowes both in soule & bo [...]y: Nay, all more narrow­ly may be reduced to a desire: For when we briefly say, He hath his hearts desire, we do withall in tend, that he is neither troubled with pleasure, griefe, feare, auda­city, hope or anger: The six turbu­lent passions reckned by Plato. Our passions bee the first causes of our discontents: And all our passions be sutable or vnsutable to nature: The first intice, the last terrifie our wisedome: And therefore both kindes must bee dealt with wisely, but lesse hard­ly, because one medicine ouer­comes both. Let neither good nor euill chances take vs vnpro­uided, and we shall be neuer af­flicted: For either wee grow sluggish & careles being pleasd with good, or wholy danted be­ing displeasd with [...] chances▪ [Page 150] Let vs therfore sometimes wil­lingly please our selues, and ha­ [...]ing tasted what such pleasure is, let vs returne into the com­mon course of labour: By which meanes, pleasures will not bee ouer-pleasant and attractiue, when afterwards by occasion we shall be again tempted: And being not so effectuall with vs, wee cannot afterwards repent, or be disconsolate because wee did forget our selues. Neither will griefes be ouer grieuous, if wee be somtimes sencible of o­thers griefe; not by a womanish pitty (for that softens the heart, and makes it ouer sencible, in­clining to dispaire) but by a no­ble pitty, which sees our owne [...] in anothers suffrings, and makes vs worthily abhor [...]e to be the cause of such suffrings: For whilst we so pitty the wrōg [Page 151] which others haue committed, wee nourish in our selues a scorne to do the like: These ex­cepted, the saying is true: Mi­sereri & sapere vix dijs conceditur.

Certainly (amongst all) per­plexed questions be to a labou­ring head, most troublesome: And lesse blameable was that sound Aristotle. Philosopher, who made the Ocean capable of him, be­cause he was not capable of rea­son for the Ebbe and Flow; rather then such as be ashamed to liue, when either needinesse, feare, ignominy, griefe, or disappoint­ments contradict them. It is meere beastial to dye vpon such weake incounters; which might be all confuted with a Heathens knowledge: But then to dye for ignorance may seeme excusea­ble: For such a life is beastial, where wee are ignorant of rea­son; [Page 152] and better is it to bee igno­rant of reason how to preuent death, then to preserue life in ignorance: Because I hold it highly monstrous, to dishonour the nice fabrick of a mans body with a brutish soule. The truth is, our discontents of any kinde doe mis-informe our iudge­ment; no otherwise then a busie knaue, who (seeing the bad luck of lawful means) doth bribe the Maiestrate: and neuer was a Ma­iestrate more easily bribed, then is a iudgement (so oppressed) corrupted We haue no liberty to knowe, much lesse to iudge; no reason to discourse, much lesse to put a difference no free­dome to conceiue, much lesse to vnderstand, when Discontents do trouble vs. They interpose our brightest emine [...]ce of wisedom no otherwise then clowdes d [...]r­ken [Page 153] the Sunnes glory: They keepe a strong possession against our vertue and all good society. The most significant Title they can deserue is Treache [...]ous: For they breed sensibly an inuocati­on, begetting in vs a preposte­rous change; and that cōmonly proceeds from worse to worse: For being more incorporate with them and their mutations, wee challenge lesse freedome in our selues, to helpe our selues. Discontents, like an extreame dis­ease, bee of a shifting nature: They delight cōtinually in mo­tion, as men vehemently sicke doe change their beds & cham­bers. A Discontented man does and vndoes, that hee may doe a­gaine: thinking to loose his hu­mor in variety, or by aduenture (if by nothing else) among ma­ny changes to make one goodone▪

[Page 154]But this desire of change corrupts our wisedome with a sencible distraction: For sour stomacks vn-acquainted with a new foode refuse it with many raspings. So likewise our vn­derstanding oppressd with new & sudden obiects, doth languish and become affrighted: being not able to digest thinges in or­der. We shall perceiue a three­fold mischiefe which goes inse­perate with discontents: For they bee ready to seduce our thoughtes our wordes, our actions: Wee mis este [...]me, mis-condemne, mis▪ attempt, through discōtent­ed passions. The reason is ma­nifest: For Discontent being the cō [...]anion of our thoughts, makes them, our wordes and actions, ru­led by that; and so become vn­pleasing, like it selfe: Therefore doe Male contents vnder-value [Page 155] merite in their owne opinion: Therefore (being waspish) they detract from worthinesse, there­fore they dislike or doe con­demne bitterly, and therefore, likewise, doe men thus affected, vndertake more venturously thē wisely. So that Salust hath ob­serued well touching the Cha­racter of Cattlines adhaerents, that they were Homines quos fla­gitium, eg [...]stas, aut c [...]nsciu animus exagitabat. And questionlesse, such men so inwardly bitten with their owne afflictions, can finde no leasure in themselues to keepe affinity with others. Good Soueraignes therefore, louing Parents, honest Friends, loyall Subiects, wise Maisters, haue been no Male-contents: For (being so) it is impossible that such a troubled Fountaine should send forth any thing but [Page 156] off ensiue tumults. There is no­thing more doth make our eni­mies reioyce, then a deiected spirit, and nothing more afflicts our soule then to be sensible of their reioycings; therefore doth that experienced Prophet Da­uid so often wish for a deliue­rance from their triumph; [...]o often doth hee lament their in­sultations. Infinite are those aduantages, which may be had against men discontented: As namely secrets may be extorted from, and treasons may be infu­sed vnto them: It cannot other­wise bee: For griefe and sorrow sitting most heauy vpon the vi­tall partes, doe crush & mortifie the spirits; which failing to con­uey a nourishment to the brain, it presently growes light and spungy, fitted to sucke vpp any new matter, and to haue the old [Page 157] squeasd from it. And therefore hath a melan [...]holy spirit some prerogatiue in thi [...] respect; be cause his time of discontent is scarce distinguished from his daily carriage; for night is soo­ner visible in an open Pallace, then a smoky Cottage. I may propound of sorrowes, what Celsus doth of Cole-worts: be­ing halfe sodden▪ they are laxa­tiue; but twise sodden, they are binding: So discontents beeing but slightly apprehended and entertained, may bee a meanes sitting to prepare the way for honest applications, and to purge security: But being suf­fered long to bo [...]le within vs, they doe confirme their owne, and also stoppe the passage of o­ther worse corruptions. Of Morall and awa [...]ening Discon­tents, the wise Salomon spe [...]kes, [Page 158] when hee resolues positiuely; Anger is better then laughter, for by a sad looke the heart is made bet­ter: Melior est i [...]a risu: quia per tristitiam vultus▪ co [...]rigitur animns delinquentis: And (without que­stion) some natures may be like­ned to the blacke-thornes, that florish best with haile, storme, and tempest: Or to the Macke­rell which cannot bee awakened and brought vpwards, but with thunder. But some Fauourites there bee, so much beholding to Fortune, that in a whole Age they haue scarce learnt the defi­nition of sorrow. In these men the Prouerbe is verified; F [...]oles are Fortunate; and yet agreeable with an honest meaning: For those (I thinke) are chiefly boūd to Fortune, or Prouidence ra­ther who cannot through a good simplicity affect dishonest [Page 159] practises, and close dealings: It being consonant with reason, that men ill-befriended with a subtill Braine, should be assisted with some higher Policy. All that wee suffer, is by our Owne or Fortunes worke: Wee cannot bee too patient with Fortunes, too much prouoked with our owne works of sorrow: When Fortune punisheth wee haue no remedy, whē our own indiscre­tiō punisheth, we may afflict our selues the longer with a wise fu­ry, that we may learne to recol­lect and to awaken our iudge­ment. Some haue a resolute contempt for all aduersities; but such a valorous scorne may bee ingendred by sottish igno­rance, or an vncapable dulnesse, no otherwise then both may be a Drunkards motiues in ex­treme hazard. As for my selfe I [Page 160] neuer felt a sorrow, which I e­steemed a [...], vnlesse it gaue no profitable vse, either by making mee more circum­spect & prouident; or acquain­ting mee beforehand with my destiny. The most honourable dealing with our worst afflicti­ons, is to confute them by a dis­course of Braine, and so exercise our knowledge, for our owne aduantage, against the [...]oes of Knowledge. And doubtlesse there is enough left in Nature (if wee could apprehend) to comfort all our troubles: when I say thus I meane enough as wel to settle and confirme a soule shak [...]n with vncertaine doubts, as to redeeme a wretch laden with the worlds misery: Nay if nature affoords matter enough to confute obiections, she must needes yeeld matter also to re­moue [Page 161] Sorrowes: For euery sor­row of what kinde soeuer, is no­thing but an obiection to the minde, which mans weakenesse cannot answere: As the fortune of a Shipwrackt man obiects death of pouerty; the fortune of a man Condemned obiects disgrace; the Disapointed mans fortune, obiects vnlucky dea­ling, and so the rest: All which I purpose at my leasure to recite in method, & to conuince their bitternes: Which will vnless▪ I be deceiued, create men [...] to despise affliction. But in the meane time none among the worst crosses shal predominate, if sometimes in a lawfull hu­mour wee doe crosse our selues: And so begin to learne the diffi­cult māner of denving our le [...]d inclinations: which cannot well endure a disapointment; [Page 162] because they couet a sensuall fruition. If any man thinkes these medcines taedious he, may Dyogines his remedy in fewer wordes: Fortunae confidentiam, [...]: lib: 6. 272. naturae Legem, perturbationi ratio­nem obijce: Make Confidence resist Fortune, Law resist Nature and Reason Discontents.

Two Bookes of Cha­racters.

The first Booke.

CHARACTER. I. An Impudent Censurer

IS the torture-monger of Wit, ready for exe­cutiō before Iudge­ment. Nature hath dealt wisely with him in his outeside; for it is a priuiledge against confutation, and will beget modesty in you to see him out-face: Hee is so fronted with striuing to dis­countenance knowledge, by the contempt of it, as you would thinke him borne to insolence, though indeed it bee habituall and comes by negligence of his [Page 164] company, which rather seeke to laugh an [...] continue, then to re­forme his v [...]nity. A Chimney­sweeper may conuerse with him very safely, without the ha­zard of blushing: and so may a­ny that will contemne his igno­rance: Buffets will conuince him better then language or reason: That proues him ranke­bestiall, descended from the walking Apes; which on the Mountaines seeme carefull In­habitants, but at your approach the formality of m [...]n only. The Land-theefe, and Sea-captaine, be neuer le [...]e out of their way, but wi [...]er cōmonly about their obiect: They spare to wound poore tr [...]uellers but he incoun­ters any thing not worth eye sight. Hee will seeme to cleanse Bookes of errors: but take him in his true knowledge, and hee [Page 165] cannot doe so much good [...] Fellow that sweepes gutters. A wise mans minde gouernes his body his minde is onely re­strained by a bodily feare: And if you hope to be released of what he dares, you must inforce him to what he dares not; and then you shall perceiue him to be the comicall braggard, or the lingling spur. Lay aside this medicine and he is incurable, for he is so ra [...]isht with his own folly, as hee often commends what he misinterprets, and still dispraises▪ if he scorne the Au­thor) because hee cannot per­ceiue. To commend therefore and discommend what he con­ceiues not, is alike tolerable & equall: Neither is it to be admi­red [...]f he dislikes the soundest workes of a good Author: for he regardes not the workes and [Page 166] writings of God himselfe: if he did, he would imbrace charity, and so censure lesse. The wilde Arabian comprehends him fully: for as the one, so the other, takes tribute and exaction of all pas­sengers, except acquaintance and familiars: if any thing makes him praise-worthy, this must, or nothing: becauses he seemes (by this means) morall in friendship and so in some kinde vertuous: But his applause and detraction, are both odious, because aboun­ding through his meere plea­sure: And as some [...]luttish peo­ple take pleasure in their owne excrements, and relish the pick­ings of their nose; so hee, his owne opinion. When al Trades perish, he may turne Shop-kee­per, and deale with Ballance: For in weights and measures none is more deceitfull. Hee [Page 167] ponders pithy volumes by the dram or scruple, but small er­rours by the pound. If he takes courage in his humour, hee haunts the Authours company, recites the worke, intends it to some third person, and after he hath damnd the thing in questi­on, he refers himselfe to the right owner; who, if hee be there manifest, must coniure this deuill quickely, or he will seeme honest, & giue satisfacti­on: but call his life in question, and he betraies his guiltinesse, which then accuses him of false dealing howsoeuer; yes, though he hath commented rightly; for he commends ignorantly, and discommends scandalously. So delighting in his humour, he makes his Free-hold an Inheri­tance: put it to the hazard, and he will compound for the title. [Page 168] When he misses the censure of bookes, he proues alway the most harmeles, deriding, impu­dent, and absurd foole in the company: and he takes it for granted still that euery conceite being his owne is most ingeni­ous—let him adde folly and I grant him.

CHARACT: II. A Compleate▪ Man

IS an impregnable Tower: and the more batteries he hath vndergone, the better able he is to continue immoueable The time and he are alwaies friends: for he is troubled with no more then he can well imploy; nei­ther is that lesse, then will euery way discharge his Office; So he neither surfetts with I [...]lenesse, [Page 169] nor action. Calamities, and Court-preferments doe alike moue him, but cannot remoue him: Both challenge from him a conuenient vse, no vilde in­deauour, either to swell or dis­paire. His religion, learning, and behauiour, hold a particu­lar correspondence: He com­mands the latter, whilst him­selfe and both be commanded by the first. He chuses men as good Musitians chuse their Vi­alls; by sound, rather th [...]n by the sight: he may well giue his affections leaue to wander; for (like a well-mannd Hawke) they bee alwaies within whistling. Hee holdes it presumption to knowe, what should be looked, or thought vpon with wonder; and therfore rather then he will ex­ceed, he can be lesse then him­selfe: accounting it more noble [Page 170] to immitate the friutfull bough which stoopes vnder a pretious burthen; then applaud the tall eminence of a fruitlesse Birch-tree: knowing Humility is a fitter step to knowledge, then presumption. He seemes willingly to seeke acquaintance with vice and with temptation, meaning to allure it, til, without suspition, he may soone disrobe and disarme it: Like the Sunne which enters to the most pollu­ted place [...], but is not any thing the more polluted. Or hauing laboured to know the strength of follie, he knowes it to be his Capti [...]e. From hence proceeds his victorie, in that he can pre­uent mischiefe, and scorne the aduantage of base [...]esse. His wit and apprehension (like the in [...] ayre) will pierce through lesse cranyes then the [Page 171] pores of a mans bodie. His worthinesse to bee rewarded hee may conceale: But his de­sire to doe nobly, in a better kinde, his actions will not suffer to bee vnknowne: by which the world can iudge hee deserues, and saue him from the scandall of a Cunning Hypocrite. If merits direct him in the way to honor, they doe not leaue him in the way to honour, but are his best attendants to accompany his whole preferment: For to de­serue what hee obtaines, and to deserue no more is s [...]uggish; to deserue after a thing bestowed, is duely thankefull; But a conti­nued merit stops accusation. He is thankfull for whatsoeuer, hee receiues by the worlds fauour: And hee neglects no profite which the time affoords, by in­sufficiency to discerne it or to [Page 172] recompence it: For what hee obserues, passeth through the forge of his wisedome, which refines it; and the file of his pra­ctise, which confirmes it as a good patterne: So the interest exceedes the principall, and (which exceeds all) praiseth the Vsurer. It may seeme strange that a compleate man is a good Carpenter: but (take my mean­ing as you list) his actions are directed by the Line and Square. The name of guilt (with him) is vanished vnder the charme of a good conscience: Which with his eye-sight saue his taste a la­bour: for hee knowes what ex­perience can teach, but is not taught by experience. Hee is faithfully his owne friend: and accepts the frienship of others for his owne [...]ake; but imparts his owne for others. When he loues, [Page 173] hee loues first: from hence hee chalenges a double honour: For Loue and Priority is a two-folde merit. Hee lacks nothing to in­gender happinesse; for he can spare nothing that hee enioyes: he enioyes it so honestly and ab­solutely. And that hee hath al­ready, serues to purchase new contentment. For as he liues, his capacity is enlarged, though be­fore it were sufficient for his o­ther faculties: they be most numerous when himselfe is nothing: for being dead, hee is thoght worthier thē aliue: then he departs to his aduancement.

CHARACTER. III. A good Husband

IS the second part of a good man: hee challenges no more nor lesse from Art or Nature, then [Page 174] doth become his faculty, & giue comfort to his Wife; so he doth not (by striuing to please) seeme low minded; nor by ouer-valu­ing his properties, proue a ty­rant. His behauiour and dis­course promise no more then hee meanes, and may very well iustifie. Hee is not altogether to be chosen by the cōmon weight or standard; for his best partes are invisible. A good Wife shall know him quickly to bee worth her taking: for hee will first know her worthinesse. He is not therefore put to much trouble of being denied twise: for if hee thinkes he can preuaile amisse, preuaile too soone, or not pre­uaile, because hee is too good; hee hath the modesty to refuse first: But otherwise, if opinion dares suspect, and so refuse him first, hee may account it happi­nesse [Page 175] because hee was refused so soone: hauing (by that meanes) escaped one who could not dis­cer [...]e him. The honor of a good wife makes him no more vnpra­ctised in the patience of a bad, then if hee conuersed with her: so his vertues be familiar, no [...] en­forced. The misery of a bad wife likewise hath no more enraged him to discredit all women, thē the worthinesse of a good one hath moued him to bee an Ido­lator: So his blessing is, not to augment his curse, or curse his blessing. The highest end of his mariage premeditated, is to re­solue how he may desire it with­out end. Hee feeles not the ab­sence of youth by a decay in lust; but measures the approach of a crooked body by his entyre and straight affection. Hee neither deceiues himselfe with a foolish [Page 176] confidence, nor drawes a disad­uantage to himselfe, by being distrustfull: For he may bee ac­quainted with those, to whome hee safely cannot commit his wealth, much lesse his wiues ho­nesty, but hee neuer suspects, before he be past suspition, and euery thing be apparant. Hee hath (notwithstāding) no friend whom hee dares not make his deputy: But if he hath not know­ledge enough, to chuse a friend that may be trusted; hee hath no reason to trust a woman. Hee seekes rather to bee well known then commonly noted: for be­ing known, hee cannot bee mis­taken; but othewise it is very doubtfull. A good Husband (like the pith which runns in the mid'st of a body) dissuces him­selfe aequally to the circumfe­rence: imparting aequall care & [Page 177] loue to wife and children: Loue and prouidence be the two coū ­terpanes of a good husband. He hates not her, but h [...]rs; and that with a hope to make her detest herselfe, not bee diuorced from him: For he couets rather to be daily amending her, then make a new hazard, or want resolutiō. Hee may dislike therefore his wiues humour▪ and loue her in the same quantity. Hee cannot bee chosen, because a better is absent, for you may find in him­selfe the practitioner and pat­tern. Hee cannot therfore be re­fused, if he bee well known: For being good, hee proues the best and being so, the best Husband.

CHARACTER. IIII. A Contented Man

IS a faire building in the bottome of a Valley: You may discerne [Page 178] nothing about him, vnlesse you approach neere, and nothing in him worth himselfe, vnlesse you doe proceed. There is no land like vnto his owne conscience: that makes him sowe and reape together: for actions bee (with him) no sooner thoughts, then they proue comforts, they be so full of Innocence. His life ther­fore is a continuall haruest: his countenance and conuersation promise hope; they both smile vpon their obiect: Neither doth the end faile his purpose: for his expectation was indifferent and equall, according to the meanes. Events therefore can­not oppresse him; for hee pro­poūded all, before he vndertook some; and sawe the extreamest point of danger, before hee did imbarque. He medles no further with vncertainties, then losse & [Page 179] lucre be alike in accident: For doubtfull thinges of moment, make men stagger, whilst hope and feare distracts them. If pro­bable & lawfull meanes deceiue him, they cannot trouble him: for he ascribes nothing to him­selfe, that is aboue him. When Gods determinations doe ther­fore disappoint; he neither mar­uailes, nor mis-interprets. Neg­lected fortunes, and things past, hee leaues behinde; they cannot keep pace with him. The neces­sity of thinges absent, hee mea­sures by his meanes: but as for things impossible, hee could ne­uer beg in to affect them. And in the quest of future proiects, hee neuer doth transgresse the pre­sent comfort. Hee can with as much selfe-credit be a Captiue, as a promoted Courtier. Dig­nities may doe him honour, not [Page 180] entice him: Pouerty may threa­ten, & be peremptory, but can­not ouer-come. Riches may make his honesty more eminēt, not more exquisite: He cousens the world in his behauiour; and when hee seemes disconsolate, he is best contented. He is so far from adding malice to any, that he can praise the merits of an e­nimy; without grudging. An­ger and Reuenge be two turbu­lent passions: In him (therefore) the first shewes only that he can apprehend: the last, that he can iustly preuent further mischefe. So hee neither doth insult through anger; nor satisfie his bitternesse by reuenge. Repen­tance, which with some proues melancholly, with him proues a delightfull assurance: for sel­dome doth hee lament thinges meerely vicious, so much as [Page 181] vertues imperfectly attemped. He vndertakes euery thing with more aduantage, then any (but himselfe) can imitate: for being voyd of troublesome vexation, his willing minde makes the way lesse difficult. His policie and close dealing doe not di­sturbe his time of pleasure, or his quiet dreames: For he can awake with as much delight in day, and sleepe with as much so­lace in the darke, as either his intimate purpose can awake to euery mans applause; or he concealed to his owne safetie, and no mans detriment. Hee doth not readily incurre ano­thers rage; nor doth he raile a­gainst himselfe; for he cannot bee before hand with quarrel­some engagements; n [...]r rashly run into a manyfest error. He doth not therefore (when all ap­proue [Page 182] him) miscall himselfe, closely, damned Hypocrite, or lewd villaine. He feeles more felicitie in this, that he can for­beare to enioy any thing, rather then let▪ any thing enioy him; or rather then he will enioy any thing indirectly. He is not so selfe▪ subsisting that he scornes to borrow; so shamelesse, that he borrowes all: nor so alone contented, that others doe not partake in his freedome: or so absolute in freedome, that he becomes not more absolute by the vse of others. He resem­bles the parish bells; which keepe the same tune at Maria­ges and Funeralls: So a con­tented man obserues the same Musicke of content, either in occ [...]sion of ioy or sadnes. He makes more ill meanings good, by good construction, more [Page 183] haplesse euents honest by a law­full confidence, and more dan­gerous vndertakings easie, by a calme proceeding, then the contrary. For (whilst he knowes Iealousie as a fearefull, eating, and distastfull vice) hee cannot suspect without the cautions of why, whom, how, where and when. Briefly, being contented, he is content to be happy; and being so, hee thriues best when hee thinkes best: he does more then he vndoes. He wins more often then he saues: &, like the Caspian Sea, remaines the same vn­changeable.

CHARACT. V. A good Emperour

IS the second Sauiour to Christi­anity, and a direct center of his peoples loue: his greatnesse ex­tends, [Page 184] rather to posterity, then is confident of pedigree. He may be counselled or confirmed, but his election remaines peculiar. His obiect therefore (to dis­cerne) may be infinite, or extra­ [...]agant; but paterns (to imitate) must be supernal; for he ac­knowledges but one supremacy and in that remembers a suc­cession: which makes him leaue mans precepts vnto frailty, view honor as as thing mediate, him­selfe immediately next to his Creator, and doth onely know his high commission a determi­nable power, not know and mur­mure. He doth afflict (like light­ning) neuer but when he is re­sisted. He lackes nothing of di­uinitie, but Time in his preroga­tiue, the want of which takes away eternitie: so all the ho­nour which relates to him for [Page 185] Gods sake, conueighes it selfe to God for his owne. His feare doth vanish into loue or anger; for he may embrace or conquer, but cannot submit. He preserues many whom he might destroy; but he destroyes none whom he should preserue: for (like a medicine) he doth not naturally draw blood. His royall bounty is as well prompt to take with honour, as to giue with liberty. And as he can deserue nothing because on him depends euery thing: so is he not by any man to be deserued, because vnto him euery man owes his whole Inheritance. If therefore he doth forgiue where subiects doe con­demne; or chuse when multi­tudes abandon; he doth but ma­nifest his free desires, and show affinity betwixt himselfe & holi­nes, which rayses from the d [...]ng [Page 186] hil to the commanding fortune and from the most obscure dis­daine of vulgar thoughts vnto the state of happinesse. Nay oftentimes this secret in publick offices proues true, That men without the ayd of birth, and glory of famous merit, lack on­ly so good an entrance, but haue commonly a better ending: or at least, striue more to attaine what others presume vppon. The euent therefore makes his large prerogatiue true wise­dome, which may be mis-inter­preted weaknesse. The Lyon, a King of beasts, is recouered in sicknesse, by eating an Ape; and a good King by deuouring flatterers. He is the same brief­ly to his kingdome, that Luc▪ Flo­rus Lib [...]. cap. 3. fol. 17. actum erat nisi marius ille saeculo contiguesset Mari­us was among the Tigurines: all perishes without him.

CHARACT: VI. A worthy Poet

IS the purest essence of a worthy Man: He is confident of na­ture in nothing but the forme, and an ingenious fitnesse to conceiue the matter. So he ap­proues nature as the motiue, not the foundatiō or structure of his worthinesse. His workes doe every way pronounce both nou­rishment, delight, and admirati­on to the readers soule: which makes him neither rough, effe­minate, nor windy: for by a sweet contemperature of Tune and Ditty, hee entices others to goodnesse; and shewes himselfe perfect in the lesson. Hee neuer writes vpon a full stomacke, and an empty head; or a full head, [Page 188] and an emptie stomacke. For he cannot make so Diuine a recep­tacle, stoope to the fordid folly of gal or enuy, without strength: or strength of braine stoop, and debase it selfe with hunting out the bodies succour. He is not so impartiall as to condemne e­uery new fashion, or taxe idle circumstance; nor so easie as to allow vices, and account them generous humours. So he nei­ther seekes to enlarge his credit of bitternesse, by a snarling seue­ritie; nor to augment his sub­stance by insinuating courtship. He hath more debtors in know­ledge among the present Wri­ters, then Creditors among the ancient Poets. Hee is possessed with an innocent liberty, which excludes him from the slauish labour and meanes of setting a glosse vpon fraile commodities. [Page 189] Whatsoeuer therfore proceeds from him, proceedes without a meaning to supply the worth, when the worke is ended; by the addition of preparatiue ver­ses at the beginning; or the dis­persed hire of acquaintance to extoll things indifferent: Nei­ther does he passionatly affect high patronage, or any, further then he may giue freely; and so receiue backe honest thankes. The dangerous name and the contempt of Poets, sprung from their multitude of corruptions, proues no disaduantage or ter­rour to him: for such be his an­tidotes that hee can walke vn­touched, euen through the worst infection. And indeed that mountebanks preparing oyle which kept his hands vn­scalded, was a toy of nothing to this Poets rarity of discretion, [Page 190] which so prepares his minde, that he can bathe it in the strains of burning lust, fury, malice, or despight, and yet be neuer scal­ded, or endangerd by them. He only among men is neerest infi­nite: For in the Duo apud Romanos [...] genera, [...] [...]. Lib. 7. de legibus. [...], & [...]: [...] au­tem sunt dicti a gre­co [...] quod signi­ficat vmb [...]ā nam in vm­b [...]a sicbant & ing [...]nij [...] exerci­taban [...]ur. Rosin [...] lib. 5 cap. 6. Scenicall com­posures, of a Tragedy or Co­modie he shewes the best re­semblance of his high Creator: turning his quicke passions, and witty humors to replenish and ouercome, into matter and forme as infinite, as Gods plea­sure to diversifie mankinde. He is no miserable selfe-louer, nor no vnbounded prodigall: for he can cōmunicate himselfe wise­ly to avoyd dull reseruednesse, but not make euery thought common, to maintaine his mar­ket. It must be imputed to his perfect eye-sight, that he can see error, and auoy de it without the [Page 191] hazard of a new one: As in Po­ems, so in proiects, by an easie coniecture. Hee cannot flatter, nor be flattered: If hee giues Desert, he giues no more; and leaues Hyperbole in such am a ter of importance: As for himselfe, he is so well knowne vnto himselfe, that neither pub­licke fame, nor yet his own con­ceite, can make him ouervalued in himselfe. Hee is an enemy to Athiests; for he is no Fatist nor Naturalist: hee therefore ex­cludes Lucke and Rime, from the acceptance of his Poems; scor­ning to acknowledge the one as an efficient, the other as an es­sence, of his Muses fauour. Hee paies backe all his imitation with interest; [...] his Authors (if reuiued) would confesse their chiefe credit w [...]s to be such a patterne: otherwise (for the most [Page 192] part) he proues himselfe the pat­terne, and the proiect in hand: Siluer onely and sound mettall comprehends his nature: rub­bing, motion, land customary vsage, makes the brightnesse of both more eminent. No mer­uaile though he be Immortall, seeing he conuerts poyson into nourishment; euen the worst obiects and societies to a wor­thy vse. When he is lastly silent (for he cannot die) hee findes a Monument prepared at others cost and remembrance, whilst his former actions bee a liuing Epitaph.

CHARACT: II. An honest Lawyer.

IS a precious Diamond set in pure gold, or one truly honest, and a [Page 193] compleate Lawyer: The one giues glory to the other; and being diuided, they be lesse valuable. Diuinity, and corrected nature, make him habituall in the first, but studious labor, and a discur­siue braine make him equall, if not absolute, in the last▪ he knowes Law to be the Mris. of man, and yet he makes honesty the Mris of the Law. The first therforemay exceed the last; but the last neuer hath predomi­nance in him, without the other. He is too diuine to be tempted with feare, fauor, Minerals, or possessions; and too diuine not to be tempted with perfect knowledge, and a pittifull com­plaint: he hath as much leasure to dispute with conscience, in the most busie Terme, as in the deadest Vaction: And he is alwaies more diligent to main­taine [Page 194] wronged pouerty, then at­tentiue to allow iniurious Greatnesse: he can as freely re­fuse a prodigall, or enforced bounty, as hee can accept or de­mand due recompence: He re­sorts, to London with a more full braine, then empty bags, and (at his returne) he purses vp more full comfort, then yellow coine. He cannot be so consident as to persist in error; nor so ignorant as to erre by weaknes: When therefore (through an aboun­dance) some knowledge is con­founded, his errour onely proues a doubtful question; and serues to reduce scattred rem­na [...]ts into method. The multi­tude of contentions ma [...]e not him reioyce in the number, but in the difficulty; that truth may appeare manifest to our proge­ny. He railes not against the vi­ces [Page 195] of his profession, but makes his profession commendable by his owne practise of vertue: his Clients disease of being suspen­ded, touches him like his owne sicknes; hee dares not giue a dangerous purgation to dis­patch him, nor by negligence and delay, let the eui [...]l grow in­ward & incorporate, to streng­then it selfe, or consume the pa­tient. He is therefore exquisite in preseruatiues against the consumption; though perhaps he may faile in restoratiues [...]o support weakenesse. He may wel bee a president to the best Phy­sitians; for he vndertakes no cure when he perceiues it incli­ning to be desperate: Nay ra­ther he is a true subiect, that feares and scornes to meddle with counterseit peeces, further then to resolue being askd (as [Page 196] Goldsmiths are) whether they will endure the Test. So hee makes the cause, & not his Cli­ent, the obiect of his labour. If he haue fauour enough to make truth be currant, he looks no further: which he needs not to patch businesse; nor would he willingly persue it: if truth were not often discountenanced. He doth therfore at a Iudges death lament the death of his learning not his owne priuate lucre: He can ride the circuit, and scorne to be circular. He hath no lea­sure to protract time or saue his Clients opinion with iests pre­meditated, or windy inferences: His modesty was neuer below his courage in a good cause, nor his courage inclining to impu­cence, though he were still ho­nored with a prosperous euent. He owes so much worship to [Page 197] desert & innocence, that he can as faithfully applaud sufficient worth, as not insult ouer, or ex­claime against dull ignorance. He is miraculously preserued a­gainst incantations: the strong­est spell cannot charme him si­lent, nor the most tēpting spirit prouoke him to a vaine plea­ding. He dares know & professe in spight of potency; hee dares be rich and honest in despight of custome: And if he doth not grow from a good man, to a re­uerend Title, hee scornes to bee a Traytor and blame tyranny which ouerslips deseuings; but he descends below his owne vn­worthinesse. Briefly, he is a pre­cious vessell; he indures the rest and the defiance of time: hee is a sound commodity which ne­uer failes the Customer: and doth hartily confesse that who­soeuer [Page 198] swarues from this pat­terne, swarues from honesty, though hee be deepely learned: Howsoeuer, he thinks a Lawyer deepely learned cannot chuse but bee honest; except multi­tude of Clients oppresse him.

CHARACT. VIII. A Detractor

IS his owne priuate foe, and the worlds professed enemy: Hee is indeed an obstinate heretick, and if you will conuert him, you must a new create him likewise: hee is of the Mahametan sect which hath despised all religi­ous Arts & Sciences, except the confusion of all: so he approues continually the worst thinges a­mong many good, & cōdemnes that which is iudiciously com­mended: [Page 199] To read therfore and refuse, makes vp the best part of his iudgement. He hath an* im­pedimentIg [...]orance. Spight. Disdame. Enuy. in his language pro­ceeding from his heart; which makes him that he cannot speak well of any man. His fiue sences haue a mortall combat with all obiects, that afford sence, or any thing vpon which they fasten: his eye could neuer yet behold a woman fair enough, or honest enough, on whom he might be­stow the sincere part of his affe­ction: but he marries one to be­get an equall society of froward children: His eare was neuer well contented with a delicious tune, for the left is onely open, and that onely apt to conceiue discords, through a customary habit; which hath reiected all, & therefore will: For that he once hath, and is againe minded to [Page 200] discredit worthinesse, giues him both reason & encouragement to continue spightfull: But (to our comfort be it spoken) his en­uy ends cōmonly with himselfe, or at most, indeauors not other­wise then a nasty passenger, to rub against, and defile faire out­sides, because himselfe is loath­some: hee stopps his nose if a perfume approach, but can well indure a stinking draft, or ken­nell, and embrace the sauour: His palate hath no relish except hee may discommend his dyet, and yet hee consumes all to the very fragments: hee touches or takes vp nothing which is not blasted by him with a naturall dislike; or at least hee will vt­ter the manifest forme of dis­content. You must beleeue him sick or cloy'd with sweet meats: for his iudgement being out of [Page 201] tast, he cānot relish. His tongue, the Herald of his imagination, is a busie Officer, and will (with­out questiō) challenge the same reward of him, that it doth of Women, for it dispatcheth the same seruice, and deserues ther­fore (proportionably alike) to be called the maine property of each: hee is not inferiour also to a woman in malice; for she is that way limited to some per­sons, though vndeterminable in spight: but hee transcends; ac­counting it his pompe to bee in­finitely licentious towards all. Hee railes against the State, and speakes treasons confidently to himselfe alone, expecting an e­uent of his desires: Nay, some­times hee is taken (through the licence of his tongue, & a little sufferance of the company) in peremptory speeches that bring [Page 202] to his answere: Neither will he hearken to reformation, till hee lackes his eares: Hee is not (if a Church-man) ashamed to quar­rell, first with his Patron, and o­penly disclaim against the poor value of his Benefice: If, a com­mon humorist, hee will dimi­nish the worth likewise of a guift, before the giuers face; & lookes to the disconueniences, not the commodity, hee getts by possession: If he commends any man (which is a great won­der) hee presently after will re­cite the speciall fauour & boun­ties he hath receiued by him. A slight Arithmetician may cast vp the totall summe of his Cha­racter: and by substraction (be­ing the body of his soule) may finde him vnder the value of an honest mā, aboue halfe in halfe: For hee lackes Charity, and so [Page 203] comes short of a good Christi­an: And therefore is an egregi­ous coward because he scornes to iustifie, except hee railes a­gainst the dead; thither he hast­ens being vnworthy to liue lon­ger:Detractor [...] in­ter [...] blan [...] nor [...] besti­as famelicas. And as Dyogenes hath long since resolued, hee is the worst among wilde beastes, none ex­cepted.

CHARACT. IX. An Humorist

IS the scorne of Vnderstanding, the traytor to Reason, or the va­nity of a better man: Bloud-let­ting, a good whip, honest com­pany, or reasonable instructions might (at the first) recouer him. But if hee continues among laughing spirits one quarter, the disease will growe inward, and [Page 204] then the cure growes desperate. If his humour be heriditary, hee is more familiar with it, and makes it the principall vertue of his family: If imitation breeds a habite, he makes it the pledge of sworne brother-hood, or at least the fauour of new acquain­tance: hee neuer is infected sin­gle, or with one humour onely; for either he is now admitted to the seuerall orders; or hee is prompt enough to subscribe generally when occasion peeps. You must not dare to discom­mend, or call in question, his be­hauiour seriously with his com­panions; for though you cānot call the humor lawfull, it is suf­ficient if you can call it his hu­mour. You may iustly forbeare to Restraine him; for if hee be truely adopted, he thinkes it an especiall part to be respectlesse. [Page 205] Tobacco is a good whetstone for his property: hee doth seldome therefore forget to prouoke his constitution this way: and (by being insariate) he knowes well his humour may escape the search of reason, by vertue of the mist. He hath from his cra­dle bin swadled vp, with much obstinate & peremptory affect­ation: It being indeed cōmonly the character of his ripest age, to support that freely in his man-hood, which was forbid­den in the spark of his minority: hee neuer slips oportunity with deliberation; hee is therefore prompt enough to begin, and the reason of his act is enough, though onely that hee hath be­gun; because humour is the mo­tiue. There is nothing within the compasse of thought so tri­uiall, so absurd, and monstrous, [Page 206] which his vanity will not auerre to be ponderous, decent, & na­turall. Neither will hee abhor to iustifie them by his owne practise, against all opposers. He trauailes vp and downe like Tom of Bedlam, vnder the title of mad Rascali, Witty Rogue, or Notable mad slaue: and these attributes bee a more effectuall oratory to applaud his humour, then a di­rect cōmendation. He will not sometimes (vpon small disconti­nuance) vouchsafe to acknow­ledge, or (at least) know, his fami­liar friendes, without much im­pertinence and Interrogatories of their name, or habitation: whilst another time, hee dares aduenture his knowledge, & sa­lutations vpon meer aliens. Hee is very much distracted, and yet I wonder how the frenzy should bee dangerous; for hee neuer [Page 207] breaks his braine about the stu­dy of reason or inuention: see­ing his humor is the priuiledge of both: It is therfore sufficient for him to bee extreame melan­cholly, and most ignorant of the cause or obiect; and sudden­ly to bee vnmeasurably frollick without prouocation: whilst he is onely beholding to a brain­lesse temperature in discharge of his credit. He will conuerse freely with Seruing-men and Souldiers within 12. houres; & presently when the ague hath once seized him, hee proues ty­rannicall and insolent towards the silly vermin. He neuer brake a vow in his whole life, or brake vowes continually: for eyther they haue not suited with his varietie, to bee intended, or hee hath intended to keepe them no longer then might a­gree [Page 208] with his body which, ebbes and flowes When hee growes old, and past voyce, hee learnes forraigne languages: as if when he had dined, he would deuoure the dishes. In a word hee is a chiefe commander of new acti­ons, but no commander of him­selfe; being in his best brauerie but a Turkish Slaue, euer subiect to desire and appetite: accor­ding to their paterne, he is him­selfe to himselfe praise-worthy, or elegant; but to worthinesse it selfe, odious.

CHARACTER. X. A weake-brain'd Gull

IS a needelesse ornament: And yet an ornament to make wi­ser men more accounted. Some call him a petulant neat youth; I rather thinke him a glasse bottle in a gilded case: that [Page 209] is, a fayre outside with a braine easily broken. Hee takes the vp­per hand of a foole, nay of a wise man also; and in opinion is as good as a Courtier. According to Platoes definition hee is no man. Plato defined a man to be a two-legd creature, hauing broade talents without feathers; but this a­boue named gull weares feather enough to hide a Helmet. His e­ducation hath bin (from a child) tenderly fearefull; and the mo­ther remaines still afraide of his fortunes, least his politick wise­dome should hazard them too farre: whilst his fortunes hazard his wisedom. He hath beene al­wayes a yong Master, and yoked his eares first to insinuation, vn­der some oylie tong'd seruant, or flattering Tutor. hee conti­nues loue no longer then hee finds a fellow consenting to his [Page 210] vaine-glory: the dislike of which sooner then any thing makes him to be cholericke, to resolue and fight perhaps: but other­wise To know hee hath rich kindred, and to deriue a pede­gree; satisfie his Valor, Lear­ning, proficience in Estate or credit with meere contempla­tion. So much indeede doth hee hang vppon the pillars of his gentrie, as it shall therefore be the first preparatiue of his ac­quaintance to salute, and aske What countrey-man your Father is, of what house: or hee will enquire his demesnes onely (of some neighbour:) and if your body be hansome, your cloathes pro­portionable, your parents weal­thy; he hath purchased an euer­lasting friend in the beginning. A round oath is valour enough, a foolish Dittie Art enough, and [Page 211] good fellowshippe honesty e­nough. He should be bought vp in Italy (among the butchers) for an English Calfe: because hee carries his whole prise and value about him. The truth is, hee scornes to bee a searcher, and thinkes it enough for his Taylor to meddle with linings. But in the circumstāce of making your cloathes, the price of your Bea­uer and silke stockins, your pur­pose to trauaile, or of your long absence; The Spanish Inqnisition cannot be so vnmercifull. Hee is contented richly, nay absolute­ly, to be taken onely for a harm­lesse man. Suppose he hath now left the vniuersitie, and bringes a little dreame of Logicke from the Colledge; being ariued at London, hee stickes a feather in his Hat; and it is all one as if he had fastened it in his head: for [Page 212] his braine, from that day fore­ward becomes broken. The ge­nerositie and noble carriage of [...]is discourse, is to run desperat­ly into the name of some coura­gious gallant Knight, or some [...] in fauour: if their alliance [...]o his family can be detected he [...]iues way with an apparant re­ [...]ish. The wisest action that euer [...] atempted, was to spare much [...] in discourse by fingering [...]is beard or bandstrings: and if [...]e bestowes much on Tobacco [...]e cannot be blamed much: for [...]t hath many times freed him from the discredit of a Non plus. He is very well fitted for all so­cieties, if his outside be sutable; further thē which he neuer con­nersed with himselfe effectually. Nor can I wonder, though hee payes deerely, and preserues cloaths delitiously; seeing those [Page 213] alone are the maintenance of his whole worth; and therefore you shal perceiue him more fu­riously [...]ngaged about the ren­ding of his doublet, or a little lace, then a magnanimous box, or a bastinado: And he will en­ter into a Tauerne at the fore­side, though hee might goe a neerer way, onely to discouer his gold lace and scarlet. If his bands & cuffs be sun-burnt they wil not much mis-become him: for hee thinkes himselfe an vn­lucky Asse, if a painted beauty doth not shine vpon him. He is ambitiously giuen to bee pro­moted, either by some embas­sage to divulge his pedigree, & learne fashions, or by entertain­ment of some chiefe Noble-mē to discouer his bounty: But his worst ambition is to salute the next Coach or Foot-cloth: and [Page 214] hee thinkes verily that the prize of a florishing salutation winns more credit then his Beauer. He will hang out at the Tauerne window as commonly as the signe; that hee may see naked brests and veluet linings passe a­long; & wrap their graces in his fancy till the next Sunns-rising. Hee shifts his Familiars by the suruey of prospect, and exter­nals; but his directions proceed from the Prouerbe of like to like, rathet then Physiognomy. Hee is credulous & con [...]ident: the lesse certainty he hath of a report, the more publicke hee is, and pe­remptory. Hee cōmits the best part of his vnderstanding to a talkati [...]e Barber: with whome he is the more frequent; because he thinks to haue a curle-pate, is to haue a visible wit. He studies a new fashion by the six months [Page 215] together: and reades Albertus Magnus, or Aristatles Problemes in English, with admiration. Hee would bee Phisicall, and iustly; for not to preserue his folly in health, were to deceiue the world of his pattern: but being merry for disgestion, his laugh­ter is exorbitant causelesse, end­lesse, & like himselfe: But fooles of his owne fashion praise him, for a witty Gentleman, or a gentle­manly Fellow. His safest course will be to marry: nothing makes him so sencible as a Wife, good or bad; till then, the further hee flies from his Caracter, hee be­comes it the more naturally.

CHARACT: XI. A Ranke Obseruer

IS his owne Comoedy, and his own Audience: For whatsoeuer he [Page 216] frames by experience, hee ap­plaudes by custome: But being out of his element, he is an Eele in a sand bag; for hee, wanting the humor of his wrested obser­uance, falles away into ignorant silence. Hee is arrogant in his knowledge so far, as hee (thinks) to study men, will excuse him from the labour of reading, and yet furnish him with absolute rarities, fit for all fashions, all discourses. He is a very promis cuous fellow; and from thence proceeds the vice which makes him without difference, cōpre­hend ponderous & triuiall pas­sages vnder the same degree of value or estimation. For what­soeuer becomes his politicke vent, becomes his vnderstand­ing. When hee doth therefore fill vp the vessell of his conceits, he hath regard to such things as [Page 217] may bee vttered with most ad­uātage, either of money among the Players, or reput [...]tiō among the general Gallants of our Cit­tie. He takes account of all hu mours, and through the practise of a contempt to all, he partakes in al: for he vses what he derides vnder the priuiledge of scorne, and so makes it familiar. So the largest benefite which others reape, by contemning the vice in himselfe, arises beyond his purpose or intention: for he ex­tends to others no further then agrees with his owne greedy constitution; meaning to credit or enrich himselfe, not amend others: by which meanes all his goodnesse is accidentall. He doth (notwithstanding) in some poynts resemble vertue; but in the worst manner. For being impartiall, he playes the tyrant; [Page 218] and sels the vices of his dearest friends to discouery, by playes or pamphlets, but is content that they should still reserue them to their future infamy: So he becomes sooner excluded oftentimes from society, then his flattering shifts can readily repaire. Flattery and insinuati­on be indeed the number of his thriuing moral vertues, through which (vnder a pretence of faire meaning) he takes occasion to betray the marrow of mans va­riety: and this affoords fuell for his bitter derision. His Table­bookes be a chiefe adiunct, and the most significant Embleme of his owne quallity, that man may beare about him: for the wiping out of olde notes giue way to new: and he likewise, to try a new dispositiō, will finally forsake an ancient friends loue: [Page 219] because hee consists of new en­terprises. He makes the best he can of witty turnings; and ther­fore hee spares conceits worth naming in company, to make a further benifit. If you desire to know a man of this profession; you must a while obserue him, and he will presently shew him­selfe after two meetings: for he will then talke (as it were) by a chatechisme of discourse: kee­ping a certain forme of lāguage as if he durst not go beyond the circle. His capacity is appehen­siue in a strange measure: if hee were lesse capable, he might be more commended. For hee i [...] ­croches often vpon admittance (where thinges be well deliue­red) to multiply his obseruation & he will verifie things, through a scandalous [...], as if they were now committed. If hee [Page 220] conuerts to a deseruing quality, hee will propound the credit of a good meaning no stipend for his vain discoueries. Till thē, he must indure to be suspected, or odious, whilst hee whispers closely among free companiōs: Neither must he hope to amend this Age or himselfe; because hee neuer intended the first, and the last he forgets (though he inten­ded it) through vain-glory as beeing transported with this pride onely, that he hath obser­ued, and can obserue againe. Briefly hee resembles a foolish patient, who takes a costiue pill to loosen his body: for whilst he meanes to purge himself by ob­seruing other humors, he pract­ises them by a shadow of mock­age, and so becomes a more fast corruption: if he doth not ther­fore feele the disease, hee dies Hid [...] bound.

CHARACT. XII. A simple polititian

IS a purblind Fox, that pretends machiauell should be his sire: but he proues a mungrell: he was taken from Schoole before he had learned true Latine; and therefore in triuiall things only, he partakes with craftinesse; be­cause hee lacks true breeding, and true bringing vp. Hee la­bours commonly for opinion where hee is so well known that opinion woulde persecute him, without labour: he thinkes reli­gion deceiues most vnsuspected and therefore hee first seemes to bee a zealous Christian. The Church is a principall parte of his deuotion; and to be a frequēt Auditor, or outwardly attentiue is a sure defence (hee thinkes) a [Page 222] gainst Capitall errour. Hee is o­penly kinde-hearted; cries God forbid. Amen, Christ be his comfort. But rather then he will seeme a­Puritune, with indifferent com­panions, hee can breake an ob­scene Iest, be wanton, sociable or any thing till hee conuerse with a Presitian by whome hee hopes to saue: thē his eyes roule vpward, his hands are eleuated, commiserating tearmes be mul­tiplid, with sighes innumerable: then hee rayles against the wic­ked, whome a little before hee heartily saluted. And after some paraphrase vppon the verse of such an Euangelist, Apostle, or Prophet, hee dismisses the Pu­ritan, that he may laugh heartily. He is therefore much like a bookesellers shoppe on Bartho­lomew day at London; the stalls of which are so adornd with bibles [Page 223] and prayer-bookes, that almost nothing is left within, but hea­then knowledge. His minde and memorie put on the same vizard of greatnesse, which makes him so much incline to the posture of weighty labors, that he giues no attention to things openly recited, though they actually possesse him. To bee imployed therefore for a Noble-man, is (to him) an infinite trouble, and begets imployment with all ac­quaintance to discouer it: so the bare meanes to make men think hee is much entertained, costs a time equall to his occurrents. Being to bee visited (though by sure Clients) he hath the roome of attendance, the Art of delay, and a visage that seems pittiful­ly interrupted. If he rides to dis­patch, the horses be early sadled and brought into the foreside, [Page 224] that neighbours may obserue, when after fiue or six houres ex­pectation, hee comes like one that was detained by vrgent im­portunacies. if the company be pleased to laugh at his inhae­rent folly; he doth by and by as­sure you; giue mee a sudden iest or nothing; some vse your printed iest, I cannot endure it. His best mate­rials to worke vpon, bee Time, and Place; which if they affoord circumstance to let yon vnder­stand his new purchase, his new buildings, the great marriage of his Children, or entertainment of high personages, or bountie towards an Hospitall, it comes freely and fitly, if openly. When occasions trouble him a little, he loues to trouble himselfe ex­treamly; and thinkes it a poynt of reaching pollicie, to reproue or amend that formally, which [Page 225] hath beene allowed by singular good iudgments. If hee dares (with priuiledge of the hearers ignorance) disparage worth in any, hee takes leaue of the occa­sion, and his own policie. This he takes in honour of his court­ship to shew hee can be ambiti­ous; and build on others ruines: But this proclaymes him a star­ued Cannib [...]ll; who, through the famin of desert, supplies worthi­nesse with his owne excrement of detraction. His desire and au­dacitie are at open strife; when hee would hut dares not com­mend himselfe, by correcting anothers facultie: then with a strained laughter, and a willing palsie in his head, hee seemes to [...] somwhat is vnsetled; or he makes his elbow signifie. that somthing wants his finger. His complements are at libertie [Page 922] his friendship lies locked vp in prison; the key whereof he hath lost willingly. For if you call him friend before he hath wres­ted the aduantage of an enemy, hee leaues you destitute, but more happy then you beleeue. If hee can seeme to forget your countenance, hee intends that you must thinke him deuoted to thinges aboue you, or that his braine labours: and vppon this ground he walkes when hee neglects your salutations, or takes no notice of your person. Briefly, he is a man of this daies profit; he respects nothing with­out double interest, and that by compulsion. Hee is a weake foe, a weaker friend, or the ge­nerall sha­dow of a wiser man.

CHARACT XIII. A Spend-thrift

IS a man eu [...]r needy, neuer satisfi­ed, but ready to borrow more then hee may be trusted with: The question of him will bee, whe­ther his learning (if he hath any) doth out ballance his braine, & so becomes a burthen; or whe­ther both be crept into his out­ward sences: Certainely his In­tellectuals of wit, and wisdome, may bee manifest, but are (like the seauen Starrs) seldome seen together; they mutually succeed as hauing vow'd to gouerne by course: Whilst wit raignes, ex­cesse, and ryot hath the vpper hand: But when hee recollects himselfe, he is wholy metamor­phosed; wit giues place, and his extreme of wisedom, disclaimes [Page 228] the smile of a merry counte­nance. His only ioy is to domi­neere, bee often saluted, & haue many Creditors: his Lordships lye among the Drawers, Tobac­co-men, Brokers, and Panders: But aduersity makes him leaue company, & fal [...] to house-keep­ing, and then his seruants be va­nished into Sergeants. I dare protest Doctor Anthony will not make Aurum potabile like a Spend-thrift: The truth is, a spend-thrift can dissolue a mo­narchy of gold if hee had it. His onely flatterers bee Conceite & Fancy, which charge Memory the Steward, to bring no Ac­compts in till they be casheerd; which cannot bee whilst Imita­tion is his Captaine, or Credite his Corporall. He wooes credi­tors, as Gentlemē a faire Semp­stres: he will promise much and [Page 229] mean nothing: for he distributes his words as cōmonly do Prin­ters. He dreams of being Lord chiefe Iustice, or at least being eminent, though hee liues disso­lutely; and hath no Saint but Fortune. He is, and euer will be a quarter behind with frugality; in which volume he cannot bee perfect, because the book is im­perfect: for hee still rendes out the beginning of his lesson; be­ing not able to begin a thrifty course. His Heauen vpon Earth is a faire Mistresse; and though his means be large, yet his prin­cipall sorrow is the lacke of maintenance. Hee is scarce any part of a Christian till hee goes to Prison: and then perhaps hee enters into Religion: If he doth not, I am sure hee is dead in law and turnes Cloister-man. The misery of his sence is an old mā, [Page 231] and his fathers life troubles him not a little: Almanackes there­fore which foretell the death of Age, bee very acceptable. The hurly burly of his braine is infi­nite, & he scarcely knomes what hee may freely make an election of. Hee is most truly like a bro­ken lace, or seame-rent cloake; ready to bee taken hold of, as he walkes along, by euery ctooked naile & tenter-hook. His worst bawd is too good a nature, which makes him incident to false applauses, and carue his soule out among his familiars: hee hath multitudes of deere ac­quaintāce, but his deerest frends are ready to stabbe him: For ei­ther those whom hee accompts so, bee men of fashion; or those who bee indeed so, desire his death, because they see no a­mendment. Hee is in great re­quest, [Page 232] & much enquired; being like a dangerous booke still a­bout to bee called in: For hee is no sooner out of one prison but he is called into another. Hee scornes to acknowledge his debts, but as things of duty, with which mechanickes are (as he thinkes) bound to vphold high birth and Gentry: but the end proues otherwise. His downe­fall therfore is not admired, be­cause hee was euer falling; and his bare excuse, makes experi­ence the shadowe. Briefly, hee may seem a treacherous friend; for hee deales dishonestly with all that challenge intrest in him; they bee his Creditors: And yet hee deales more louingly with them, then with himselfe; for when he paies them, he punish­eth himselfe: If he cannot pay, hee is punished more then they; [Page 232] and punished enough, because hee cannot pay: For then hee consumes.

CHARACT: XIIII. A Ubiquitary

IS a Iourney-man of all Trades, but no sauer because no [...]etter-vp: Hee would be an Epitome of Arts, & all things, but is indeed nothing lesse then himselfe: If an itchy Taylor gaue him not his making, hee had (I thinke) perpetually been vnmade: For if hee scrat [...]h his head, the body cals him; if the body, then his elbow; if his elbow, then again the body; if the body, then the head itches: So neuer quiet, ne­uer constant, still doing, still a­bout to doe the same, remaines my dooer doing nothing. The [Page 233] worst of Dog-dayes was his birth-day when fleas abonnded, which (from his cradle) haue so bitten him, as till his death he must be tickled. The worme of giddinesse hath crept into his priuate purposes: euery houre, almost, giues him a new Being, or, at least, the purpose to bee an other thing then hee is. So that I might almost say of him as Locus enrin est ens, quia est aliquid a­licui [...]s.; est autem non ens, q [...]ia ens contin [...]tur ibi. Exerc▪ 5. 3. Scalig: Scaliger saith of Locus; that he is Quodammodo ens, quodammodo nō ens. If a Coūtry life inuites him hee yeelds: the Court requests him, hee yeelds likewise: But then disgrace averts him to his study; a Library is gottē: by this time loue hath struck him, & he adores the Saint: But then some play declames against this loue; hee quickly is perswaded, & fol­lowes Poetry. Thus my vaga­bond of vanity is from post to [Page 233] pillar transported, because hee trauels without a perfect licē [...]e. You shall soone discern him by his arguments and reasons; They (for the principalls) flow from one fountaine of igno­tance: for all his proofe depends vpon I thinke so, Euery man saith so All dislike it: His very conuersa­tion is infectious, but neuer frustrate: for eyrher you must follow him, and that way you must looke to be a looser: or he will follow you, & then resolue that your intention thriues but badly. No obiect, no societie, season, thought, or language, comes amisse, or vnexpected: his pollicie therefore seekes to be rather frequent then effectuall; to run about the world daily, then trauell seriously; to see a multitude, before societie; and gesse at much, rather then know [Page 234] a little. In his discourse he daun­ces All Trades, and flies from field to thicket, as being hunted by an Ignis fatuus. Talke of Academies and hee tels you Court-newes: search into the estate of a que­stion, and he tels you what new booke is extant. If you discourse he still desires the conclusion; and is attentiue rather to the se­quell, then careful to vnderstand the premisses. In his behauiour he would seeme French, Italian, Spanish, or any thing, so he may seeme vn-vulgar; accounting it barbarous not to contemne his owne nation, or the common good, because hee loues to bee more valued by seeming singu­larly pretious: His diuerse habit onely discouers him to be true English: and to bee weary of the place, colours his employment: To liue (with him) is all vanitie; [Page 236] and that life alone his deerest happinesse: his death therefore may bee some-what doubtfull, because with it hee hath no Beeing.

CHARACTER. X. A Gamester

IS Fortunes Vassaile, temptations Anuile, or an Lidi primi omniun in venerunt ludos t [...]sse­ras & sub Atty rege [...] primo qui [...] est eo nomine: [...] fa mē decipi­ehant hi po­pul [...] in vicē Ludend [...] & edendo, [...]. [...]. 2. [...]. out-landish text, which may be soone transtated into cheaters English: He affects ga­ming from a schoole-boy; and superstitiously fore-thinks how his minde giues him. The ele­ments of fire, earth, and aire, be with him alike predominant; he is inflamed with rage, melan­choly with thoughts, iouiall with fortune: but hee neuer weeps in sorrow or repentance: When he looses little, you must [Page 237] know he looses much, for hee loues that any man should con­iecture he is able: But though his lucke be infinite to win a­boundance, yet can he seldome haue the lucke to purchase. If he quarrels, you may protest hee looses, and he must scramble or be b [...]aton ere hee can bee quiet: if he make peace you must meet him in the winning way; and then you might more safely swagger with him: he loues his owne aduantage well enough to be a Lawyer, but would make a most preposterous Iudge. The seauen deadly sinnes sleep in his pocket; and hee neuer drawes money but the noise awakes them. Pride, Lechery, sloth, and Gluttony, be his Sabboth sinnes, which (out of gettings) he employes on Festiuals, and Sundayes. Blaspemy and mur­ther [Page 238] play the Drawers with him, and bring the fearefull recko­ning of his losses; and in steed of Vsury, Theft plaies the Scriue­ner to furnish him with money: He can both fast, and watch, and yet is farre enough from being a true penitent: for curses fol­lowing, doe discouer why the rest was intended. Let him be sunne-burnt and ill-fauourd, yet he hath this priuiledge, that if he scornes quarrelling and false Dice, he shall be thought a faire gamester. Fortune makes him her most silly States-man: shee holds him by the chinne a while, but ere he can recouer what he onely wishes, he sinkes inconti­nent, and worthily, for losse and gaine alike encourage him, but neuer satissie. Neither cares he to be thought an insatiable fel­low: for when he hath in any [Page 239] mans opinion, fild his belly, his bones, are most busie. If he plaies vpon Ticket, he knowes you are but a simple fellow not able to exact, though hee re­solues to pay nothing; so he did neuer purchase, if not this way, except he borrowes; and that extends farre enough to make him thy debtor at his own plea­sure. If he be perished, his re­stauratiō is too feminine, thogh not degenerate; for seeing he was ruind vnder the Goddesse Fortune, he may well claime the portion of a rich widdow. If neither shee, nor any shee-crea­ture else be gratious, let him vnpittied proue a Cheater, for he thrust himselfe to exile, & went to willing bondage.

CHARACT: XVI. A Nouice

IS one still ready to aske the way, yet farre from finding it, though you doe direct him: He is in­deed a simple thing of one and twenty, that dares safely be a pu­pill to any Tutor. Or take him naturally for a familiar kinde of Spaniell, that may be readily taken vp, and stolne away from himselfe, or his best resolutions. He is euer haunted with a blush­ing weakenesse, and is as willing to embrace any, as not to bee distastfull vnto any: he trusts any mans opinion before his owne, and will commit his life to him that can insinuate: you get acquaintance with him by a bare salutation; drinke to him [Page 241] with a new complement, and you haue purchased his entire loue, till hee bee cheated. The name of Country-man, or ciuill carriage, vnlockes his Cabinet of intentions, till you extract the very quintessence. Good For­tunes tickle him without mea­sure; and he findes no reason to moderate his ioy, till he shewes the way for others to disapoint him; and being disapointed he is quiet. He cannot chuse but be exceeding credulous, for he confutes nothing further then his eye-sight, or common sense extends. Draw him to the paradise of taking all in good part; or teach him to appre­hend the worst things well, by screwing in a meere conceit of your generosity, & he will thrust the ward-shippe of his credit, Lands, or Body, to your patro­nage; [Page 242] So you may take reliefe, and tender Marriage though his father held not in Knights ser­uice. If you misdoubt he should perceiue you, or if you thinke it difficult to deceiue him; com­pare his Title with his Index, or both together with his stuffe contained, and you may soone discerne him: For eyther vnex­pectedly he doth betray himself, or false fire will discharge him: with much a doe, desiring to get a Mistrisse, hee proues some whores Idolater; and he feeles naturally for the haruest of his chin before seede time. Being a little boulstred vp with sweete heresies of subtill language, and Musicall Tauernes, he suddenly beginnes (except some charita­ble hand reclaimes him) to mis­take Tobacco for a precious hearbe: and oftentimes I thinke [Page 243] it cures his raw humour, by o­peration of the price, without the Physicke. You may easilie also driue him to mistake brown paper for Littletons Tenures; can­uas, and Red Herrings, for his Fathers hopp bagges and Lent prouision. I need not say hee will be valorous; for Parasites & Gony-catchers know, he often­times can see he hath been chea­ted, & yet his modesty will not suffer him to inforce satisfactiō. He is the cōmon stocke of Roa­ring▪ boyes and Sharkes, to re­medy their wants: A bigg pro­testariō makes him ye old to any man of outside that will bor­row, as soon as ten theiues with swords and pistols: So that hee is good for nothing but to blun­ten a Cheaters pollicy; because he is catcht with so little paines taking. A Spiders thred will [Page 244] catch him: an easie charme will strip him naked. Hee will much wonder at a triuiall event, and thinkes it Witch-craft to fore­see disaduantage. As for the world, Religion, or naturall cau­ses, he can enquire of them, but difficultly beleiue reason: In the shutting vp therefore of his fol­ly hee doth confesse the Cha­racter, & leaues it to succession.

CHARACT. XVII. An Epicure

IS the picture of Some-body, or a man of two sences: the Eye & the Palate: for his smelling property is stuffed with the va­pours of a full stomacke; his hands are the instruments of his mouth, no sences; and the belly hath no [...]ares, but a trusse to [Page 245] support it: He is his owne Tay­lor, & thinks directly that more expences belong to the linings, then to the outside. Hee will grow frends with any man, that serues his stomacke: If he reads the fable in Aesop how the mem­bers conspir'd against the belly; he growes empty with conceite of it; and in reuenge (I thinke) makes the belly conspire against the members. He cannot stirre in businesse without a Coach, or a Litter; and then hee is sud­denly interrupted, if the clocke strikes Eleuen. Hee is (whatsoe­uer some thinke) a good Physi­tion for his owne body; for hee still riseth from the Table with an appetite; and is soone ready for another meale of dainties. If hee bee a Lawyer, the best meates will soonest corrupt his carkasse, and his conscience: for [Page 246] he feeds immoderately, and will doe much for a brace of Phea­sants. If hee bee a Diuine, he preaches all Charity, and discō ­mends Gentlemen extreamely, because they leaue House-kee­ping. He thinks his bed the best study, and therfore speakes well in the praise of stretching medi­tations. He accounts Cookery a delicate science, and preferres the knowledge of confectionary receipts; to which purpose no­thing passes through the throat, till he takes particular notice of the ingredients. He is troubled much to thinke, how hee may most readily shorten his life, & not perceiue the reason: There­fore hee reuolues continually, what may bee most conuenient for the taste, and hurtfull for the stomacke. He inuites himselfe to much prouender by accident [Page 247] of visitation; though hee comes with a resolued policy: But hee scornes blushing, like a cōmon smell-feast; & vpon true reason: For modest bloud (being clarifi­ed and pure) cannot finde way, through inch-deepe fatt, when it is call'd to answere. Hee pro­uokes many solemne meetings, vnder the title of Hospitality, whē hee makes himselfe (by these meanes) fitter for an Hospitall. Hee is contented to bestow bro­ken meate among poore folkes, but no money: for he loues not to depart with that, in which himselfe hath been no taster. He is the noted foe of famine, and yet hee is daily imployed about the procreation of a dearth: for the value of nothing is beyond his ability, if hee hath present money, though no more then e­nough to discharge the present [Page 248] commodity; or credite to make men trust vpon executors. Hee hath heightned the price of out-Landish-fruits, & hath purcha­sed the generall name to our Countrey of Sweet-mouth'd Eng­lish-men. Marrow-pyes, Potato­rootes, Eringoes, and a cup of Sacke bee his chiefest Restora­tiues, and comfortable Phisicke: Hee makes no dinner without a second course. He is ouer ruled more by his teeth, then his ap­petite: For when they growe weary, he leaues feeding, & falls to drinking: which argues (vn­lesse I mistake) a larger capacity of Stomacke then Vnderstanding. But hee doth or should tremble, to see meate stuft with Parsely; because it represents a Coarse laid out for buriall. He keeps a high point of statelinesse in car­riage; for hee delights rather in [Page 149] a subtill [...]latterer, or secretary, that giues good elbowe atten­dance, then to heare himselfe discourse, or any who neglects to feed his humour; either with commendations, or vailing re­uerence to his high fortunes, or with licentious fables, and derisions of his opposites. If dinner bee ended, and you de­sire to conuerse with him, you must tarry till he be awake: for his vast chaire, a downy couch, and chiefly a fine capable seat in the Church, that may confront the Preacher, are three easie & common receptacles for his full stomack. None resembles death in sleepe so fitly, yet none makes lesse morall. For indeede his sleeps are full of stinke and rot­tennes▪ and so secure, that they rather proue death it selfe, then a remembrance. It is Athene­us lib. 1. cap. 1. reported [Page 250] how Cambletes the gluttonous King of Lydia deuoured in a [...]reame his wife while she lay sleeping together in the same bed; and finding her hand be­tweene his teeth when he awa­ked, he slew himselfe fearing dis­honour: which story is intended (I thinke) an epicures morall: for in his idle dreaming life, he will deuour a wiues portion, & when he hath consumed all to fragments he wakens: and (fear­ing discredit) dyes vnto the world by liuing obscurely or pines away in sorrow. Briefly, being true English, hee will ab­horre thirst, & hunger, be­cause he scornes a Lib▪ de [...], asserit quam- pri­ [...]úm esse [...]il Panos & frigoris & tamis pati­entes. Spa­niard, and his pro­perties.

CHARACT: XVIII. A Churle

IS the superflaity of solemne beha­uiour: And was intended for an allay to fifty light Iouiall constitutions; but Natura intendit op­timum. Nature be­ing then otherwise employed, hee was (against her will) made a monstrous lump of Hu­manity; through the negligence of her hand-maids: good nutri­ment,Terrores & melancho­lica pertur­batio, par­tum ter [...]e­num, reddit Iohan: Gas­sanio de g [...] ­gant. and education: or the ma­lice of her enemies, Sorrowes and a [...]frightment. Hee is the vnsociable sonne of Saturne, that lookes strangely at the face of man, as if he were another thing then himselfe. Hee thinkes, to be familiar is to betray himselfe; and that the world might plen­tifully be inhabited, by him one­ly, and a couple of drudges. If [Page 252] you be ciuill, he saith you are phantasticke; and friendly lan­guage he termes slattery. His learning and aduise be a com­pany of miserable prouerbs much of this making; a foole & his money is soone parted: Wise e­nough to keepe his owne: store is no sore: light gaines make a heauy purse: bring not a noble to ninepence: He speakes of sparing as if he fitted himselfe to beg in a grate and pray passengers to spare their charitable almes: And hee doth readily consent to the prisoners when they beg in that language. You may offend your selfe and him, lesse, if you kill him right out, then if you discourse with him halfe an houre. No estate, no aduancement, can remoue his humour: for he doth not liue (whilst he liues not discon­tented) but sleeps, or coūterfeits. [Page 253] He thinkes salutations were or­dained to beguile, or betray; hee loues not therefore to salute, or be saluted. He will refuse gifts, that come from reconciled foes and thinkes an iniurie can neuer be forgotten. On equall termes likewise, he is hartily vnwilling to receiue, except (in glory) he can ouer-value his deserts, by thinking he hath deserued tenne times more. A selfe-respect, and a disdaine of others, be his nou­rishing vices: So he chuses ra­ther to loose a bargaine, then to become a debtor; for he holds it more honour and pollicy to steale, then to be beholding. If you enquire his health, or the times newes, hee dares protest you are an impertinent, or a shallow companion. He may be called Barbarons by the same reason that [...] was o cal­led of an A­rabi [...] word Barbar; which sig­nifies to murmur, because the peoples [...] a murmu [...] ­ing to the first [...]. Barbary was calld [Page 254] Barbarie: for hee doth alwaies murmur. Other mens triumph is his sorrow, other mens sor­row his trumph: for in his con­science he hath reioyced neuer, if not in the mis-fortuns of some, or all. The least aduersity makes him thinke vpon a halter: and if you perswade him to patience, by re­membring others crosses, or the necessity of trouble in this life, he will be worse madded with your councell then with his affliction. His councells and instructions, makes him shew, most like a Chimney set on fire; consisting of ranke▪ sootie cho­ler: which doth enflame and harden whomsoeuer he deales with; not warme nor molifie with comforts and perswasions: It is better to perish, then to craue his helpe▪ for he limits himselfe only to negatiues. [Page 255] His entertainments be, a fierce dogge to bid you welcome, a currish voice to confirme it, and the way is open for a fare-well. The first two be apparant, the latter he intends: So doth he embrace acquaintance or neigh­bours; but impotent people he threatens in another kinde, with Whippe, stocks, & Beadle, they one­ly be his familiars & defenders. His Dog, and hee, are the onely good fellowes, and his dogge proues the better man, by being more tractable. He will preuent you in a commodity, and giue more; as also, hee dares discre­dit any thing, or any, not with a meaning to commend his own, but to endammage others. Hee will bee shauen all waies to the best helpe of a deformity: And though his actions will soone verifie the character, yet he will [Page 256] more mis-shape nature by ill-fa­uoured Linnen, a greasie Felt, & garments made for the purpose; as if hee meant to discouer him­selfe by the fore-head, least hee should not bee knowne quickly. Hee is vnsatisfied vpon the smal­lest wrong, and will rather take the lawes assignement, though a trifle, then be content with large composition: yet none doth more grumble against the Law­professors. Hee listens to the death of great Personages, as a Butchers dogge to the Oxes slaughter; reioycing to be glut­ted with his entrailes, or vices, seeing hee is not bettred by his body of worth, the best food. It [...]attens him to heare a prodi­galls consumption, though hee partakes nothing in the Bootie. If you fasten a guift vpon him, his thankes bee liberall (though [Page 257] he doth not requite) if hee doth not brand you with an insinua­ting Title: Yet in extremity of his humour hee is so farre (as he thinkes) from being vncharita­ble, as hee makes the charity of Coūsell, Purse, or [...], things that would [...] [...]ittle thanke for his labour: and so he practi­ses them vnder the ranke of such things as doe not concern him: He saith therefore, Meddle with me, when I meddle with you. So that if shame prouokes his wealth to inuite strangers, hee hath no bountiful meaning, but a resolution to liue by broken meate long after: which doth not sauour well, except it bee mouldy: that, and himselfe there­fore, should be spent sooner; o­therwise they grow visibly odi­ous, but himselfe more odious then that.

CHARACT. XIX. An Athiest

IS no reasonable Man: For hee will sooner embrace a super­ficiall col [...] [...] in things of mo­ment, the [...] [...] into direct causes: As for obuious & com­mon accidents, he neuer lookes vpon them so much with reason as vpon matters of course. In all he doth desire, hee is little better then a Beast; fore-casting onely to make a good temporall suc­cesse, & satisfie himselfe by his owne proiects: & he is therfore no reasonable man, because no religious man: For Heathens and Barbarians haue from the begin­ning been worshippers of som­what. There needes no better directiō to know there is a God; then to knowe that an Atheist is [Page 259] Gods enemy. If thou canst seeme to bee familiar with him, & enter into the extremities of ill fortune, or begin to speake of great mens funerals, or honest mens persecutions, hee will in­stātly discouer what he beleiues; being bolde enough to speake plainly (if thou canst apprehēd) that vertue, innocence, & crafty dealing are alike rewarded: That wicked and religious men haue no differēce but the Name: That wronges may lawfully (if without danger apparant) bee repelled with worse wronges: and that therfore it argues base­nesse of spirit, to contemne any preferment of aduantage: That expectation of other, wh [...]re ioy is already present, were dotage, or madnesse; and that honesty, which exceeds common forme, is singularity. From which Ar­guments [Page 260] you may draw the cō ­clusion. If hee reserues these precepts among strangers, his practise will verifie the pattern. Take this for a foundation, Eue­ry Atheist is a self-pleasing Epicure though they be not cōuertible. If he inclines more to Epicurisme then policy; this watch-word will be frequent in his cups, Hoc est vivere, hoc est vivere. But you may still obserue, that hee con­tends to wash away all care with company, discourse & laughter, as if he knew his vsurious credi­tor (a guilty conscience) waited to expostulate with him at an aduantage. One therfore of this proportiō, is more liable to the Law, but lesse dangerous to the common-wealth. Hee bringes most villany that feeles the dis­ease inward; and confutes his owne obiections with salacious [Page 261] doctrine. He liues much about the fountaine of Iniquity, and ther­fore he must propoud that those streames of custome be tolera­ble, or leaue his profession. Hee hath a naturall flourish for su­per-natural accidents. He turnes Diuinity into colourable inuentions of Philosophy. Hee knowes euery thing vnder the name of a natu­rall body: hee beleeues Nature to be an inuisible power, which in­tended generation for corrupti­on, and corruption for genera­tion. Hee distinguishes bodies into simple and compound, and makes creation a vulgar proiect obedient to the harmony of ele­ments. Then, if hee knowes the meaning of Homogenea, & Hetro­genea, of corpus imperfecté mixtū, and perfecté mixtū, hee remaines largely satisfied. As for the cau­ses of terrible events, hee appre­hends [Page 262] the power of Exhalations, Meteors, Comets, & the Antiperi­stasis: which very names are able to forbid all further inquisition. Hee goes not therefore beyond himselfe & such as him [...]elfe, for an authority: and hee esteemes it more conuenient to thinke there is a reason in nature, then to trouble his brain with finding another, when it exceeds his po­sitions. He neuer was taken for a friend in society, neither can he bestow loue, because he cannot aduenture his person; life being his whole faelicity. If at any time therefore he intended loue, he intended likewise a Physitian; & him, no furtherthen agreed with his own Hum dum radicale: which must also be vnderstood, if him­selfe were no Physitian. He is alwaies cōfident beyond refor­mation. Hee dies with hope be [Page 163] tweene his iawes, and therefore one may think him no desperate sla [...]e: but such hope deceiues him, because hee hopes to liue longer. So that like a candles end burning in the socket, he goes out stinking, with delay, and many faintings.

CHARACT. XX. A Lyar

IS the falsest Diall in the Parish: whilst Memory the Sexton, who should keep language his clocke in order, lyes drunken in Security, the cōmon A [...]e house. Arithmeticke is in him a naturall vice; or at least the difficult parts of the Science: for he can both Substract and Multiply with more ease then speake true Eng­lish: He may as well be a Trades­man [Page 264] of any sort by his professi­on, as a Knight of the Post, or a man-pleaser. He should (by his qualities) bee a good Gamester; for the one is iust in league with a voluntary ignorance, or an in­forced knowledge, as much as the other: Hee neuer offends this way, but he offends double; for hee cannot with credit, or knowledge of the Art Military, think it sufficient to defend with bare affirmance, and the walls of circumuention, except his can­non-othes be ready planted and discharged. Hee is not guilty of his own vice alone; for [...]eldome doth he avouch that, which his confederate wil not iustifie: and therfore he prouides adherents for security; but in his owne sin­gle opinion hee doth match Co­pernicus. His common misery is well knowne, it persecutes him [Page 265] with diuine Iustice, for all his truths extraordinary, winne no beleife; because false-hoods are so frequent. He takes it for gran­ted, that hee can grace or dis­grace any man at his pleasure: & if inuention or his eloquence were able, hee could not want his purpose. It were Gods due Iustice if he should run mad; for he deuides his meaning and his word; and so distracts himselfe. Any ad [...]ātage accruing to him­selfe prouokes his faculty; though somtimes a friends loue entices him to strange aduen­tures. If neither the first nor se­cond bee opportune, hee so la­bors onely to beget wonderfull narrations. He is ready enough to ouer-value himselfe, his friends, and his commodity: ac­counting it a politick straine to sett an excellent [...]aire glosse on [Page 266] all; that hee may purchase the reputation of a large estate: Which seemes to argue an in­nocent vpright course, not fea­ring tyrāny: But indeed he doth (from hence) deceiue the world and dye a beggar, through the fore-going of estimation.

Let him liue about great per­sons and his best discourses will be lye-blowne with tales of ho­nour: but turne him to pasture a little into Spaine or Italy, and he will purge himselfe (in England) of twenty times more then he receiued. Hee [...]els no wonder without some prepara­tiue: as namely, he admits be­fore-hand what may be: or he begins thus: You may thinke it is a lie: or, it will seeme strange, but I protest before God, it is very true▪ But if he be one that maintaines Ordinaries & publick meetings [Page 267] in delight of new relations; he speaks altogether vpon credible report; and you shall be the third man partakes of the nouel­ty: for he hath alwaies talked with one, that was an eye-wit­nesse: if hee were not himselfe the agent or beholder. Some­times he delights to be a Isti con­ [...] [...] ­dam [...] glo [...]ia vbi [...] hai [...] in T [...] ­oph [...]r: lib: Eth [...]: Cha­ [...]: in­ [...] [...]: qui memo­rat [...] era [...] ab [...] [...] quae [...] vix [...] obu [...] [...]. glori­ous fellow; and then no letters be conueyd from Italy or France; and no disgraces or aduance­ments bee meditated in the court without his knowledge. He may at his election be ad­mitted into the Colledge of Iesuits: but he loues not to for­sake his Country, though he boasts of travailes; and yet he is a meere fugi [...]iue. He was ori­ginally intended for a Rhetori­cian; and lackes onely a little instruction: For hee is more conuersant with Tropes the [...] Fi­ [...]; [Page 268] and yet the figure of re­petition, is his owne naturall. Attention makes thee very much culpable in his reports: beliefe makes thee apt to erre in the same kinde. He is more confident (if he could be vnca­sed) in the rare exployts of Ro­sac [...]ere, and Delphoebo, Amadis de Gaule, or Parismus, then the most holy Text of Scripture. It is an aequall difficulty to discerne his truth and vntruth: for he is no­thing but falshhood, yet contra­ry to falshood, and contrary to truth: hauing more conueyan­ces then a bawdy-house, or a suspected victualler. The truth is, there is no truth in him: let him tell me, that himselfe lyes, and I will nor beleeue him. If he should striue for Antiquity, no English Generation can compare with him: And yet he [Page 269] needes no Herald, for he deriues his Pedigree immedatly from the deuill.

CHARACT: XXI. A Drunkard.

IS in Opinion a good fellow, in practise a liuing conduit. His vi­ces are like Errata in the latter end of a false coppie: they point the way to vertue by setting downe the contrary. Hee is at all points armed for a Knight errant, and cald vpon for aduen­tures, euery way as full of ha­zard. This makes him enter boldly into the Lyons, or the Greene Dragons Caue; into the White Beares iawes, the Mermaids closets, the Sunnes Palace; nay, more, into the de­uills chamber of presence. And [Page 270] for his Trauailes let the, Globe witnesse; through euery corner of which, he hath or can walke at his pleasure. Freedome hee challenges, & therefore scornes to be a tedious customer, till by enforcement, hee drinkes vpon record; otherwise he shiftes his watring place; either to auoid his lowse the Bayliffe▪; or to re­new his fountaine: the last one­ly pleades for his commendati­on, because hee proceedes still from worse to better: which discommends him most, be­cause it nourishes his facultie. The torment of his eye-sight is a frothy Tapster, or a sluggish Drawer with a deceitfull pot. The plagues of his palat be good wines, where he cannot purchase, nor be trusted: or a Tauerne well furnished, that ioynes to the prison doore: they [Page 271] vexe him, as a feast vexes the fa­mished, in a strong Castle: or a Lambe the starued Foxe, when Mastiff [...]s be awake. He neuer disallowes religion for putting L [...]nt in the Almanacke: for To­bacco, a Rasher, and red Her­rings, his instruments of relish, are at al times perhibited. There is some affinity betwixt him and a Chamelion: he [...]eeds vpon ayre; for he doth care his word fami­liarly. He hath a cheape course of breake-fasts, to auoide din­ners; which at his pleasure he can spare, through morning antidotes▪ the inquisition of these he studies, and looses by the knowledge. He indifferent­ly concludes, & beginnes quar­rels: that quality neither much blames nor praises him. Hee cannot run fast enough to proue a good Foot-man: for Ale and [Page 272] beere (the heauiest element next earth) will ouertake him. Opor­tunity he embraces, but in a bad sense: for he is rather studious to follow any mans calling then his owne. His nose the most in­nocent, beares the corruption of his other senses folly: From it may bee gathered the em­bleme of one falsely soandald: for it not offending, is colou­rably punished. It serues there­fore for nothing but such an Embleme, except to proue the owners great innocence, by how much it is the greater: His eminent seeming vertues be his peculiar vices: For his casting vp expences, and his wisedome ouer ihe pot, be his vnthriftinesse and folly. Sacke and strong li­quours hardens him in his custome; according to the na­ture of a bricke: as if he were [Page 273] ambitious to be red earth, like Adam. He proues the Philoso­phers opinion of Man, better then any; for he is animal cali­dissimum and humidissimum the hottest and the moystest crea­ture. Hee were vtterly base, if vnable to defend his habite: you shall therefore know him by his arguments. If he inclines to Scholler-ship, they be these: First, to abandon melancholy; For care, hee saith, kils a Cat: then to auoide mischieuous thoughts; for hee that drinkes well, sleepes well, and hee that sleepes well thinkes no har [...]e: hee may be thought a fit trauai­ler in difficult iournies, for he cannot misse the way; no more then a blinde man misses a pic­ture. His teeth be strongest, because least employed: Hence you may take the embleme of [Page 274] one truly miserable; who a­bounds in profites, vnprofitable to himselfe. A beggar, and hee are both of one stocke, but the beggar claimes antiquity: the beggar begs that he may drink, and hath his meaning: the other drinkes that he may beg, and shall haue the true meaning shortly. In the degree of beg­gars it is thought he will turne Dummerer, he practises already, and is for that purpose many times taken speechlesse. If he goes out in the morning a liber­tineLibertinus est manu­mistus ser­vus. [...]x Do­nati com­ment: Te­r [...]nti: or a man lately manu-misd from liquor, he returnes at night a prisoner, if he doth re­turne: for he cannot returne safely without his keeper: other­wise, he conuer [...]s suddenly from flesh to fish, and diues into the mud, or swims in his owne wa­ter. These together may proue [Page 275] fasting-dayes to be his naturall season. Whilst he is waking, he purges all secrets; least I there­fore by keeping him awake lon­ger, should erre in the same kinde, I haue now cast him into a dead sleepe.

CHARACT: XXII. A begging Scholler

IS an Artificiall vagabond: Hee tooke his first degree (as may be imagined) in the Vniuersi­ty: But he neuer thinks himselfe a full Graduate; till by Cosmogra­phicall science, hee surueys the degrees of Longitude, and Lati­tude, belonging to most of our famous Cittyes in England: So hee becomes Practitioner in the Mathematicks, though hee pre­tends Diuinity by order of Cō ­mencement, [Page 276] which might bee a safe licence among diuers; if the Statute vouchsafed not to take notice of his roguery. He hath from the first houre of his Ma­triculation inherited the name of Sharke, by way of a generall dependance in the Colledge: But being perhaps expulsed, or departing in a hungry humour, hee trauels with a prompt me­mory, in stead of other know­ledge; and aboue all things hee is wise enough for himselfe, to remember his wants. He neuer looked into Diuinity beyond the meaning of two Sermons; and vpon those hee hath insisted so often, that he feeles no neede of another Library. He still pre­tends (like some single Phisitiā) the cure of one disease, that is, the colde of Charity, and there­fore (his charitable aduise being [Page 277] ended) a bill of receipt followes for the ingredients: But the dis­ease may bee thought to grow more desperate through the mistaken cure; because the me­dicine is applyed vnfitly. His helpe extends farre and neere to fugitiue Raga-muffins, vnder the signe of impotent Soldiers, or wandring Abraham-men: but his helpe proues the mainte­nance of their function, because it proues his owne, by occasion: For being receiued as a Secre­tary to the counsell of vagrants, hee conceales much idle pro­perty, in aduantage of himselfe and Country-men, not of the Common-wealth. If you would priuately know him; you must know likewise, the iourney to his friends hath beene tediously vndertaken; & whilst he bringes his money in question, you must [Page 278] know hee beggs for an answere, and so betrayes the doubt of sufficiency: Howsoeuer (in pub­licke) hee insinuates a depriuati­on; by being too sufficient. Be­ing admitted (for Hospitality sake) to receiue lodging; he hath a slight of hand, or cleanly con­ueiance, which threaten siluer spoones; and leaues a desperate sorrow among all the houshold Seruants, because hee departed so soone. In the space of a natu­rall day he seldom trauailes fur­ther then to the next Ale house; that so by degrees he may ap­proach to a great Market vpon the Sabaoth. He paies for what he takes continually, one way or other: For being no customer, hee cannot be trusted, except in case of necessity; and then hee payes them experience to be­ware of such as he another time. [Page 279] Hee hath Learning to propound the Apostles president for tra­uailes, but conscience little e­nough to looke any further. If his family be not portable, it comes in the rereward, & awaits his returne to the Rende-vouze: if otherwise he be attended with neither wife, nor maid-seruant; he makes vse of both, as he finds himselfe able: He is sometime inducted by a simple Patron, to some more simple Vicarage; But his Tythes and Credit con­cluding in Haruest, he takes his flight with the Swallow: He cannot therefore thriue a­mong the promoted begging Schollers, because he hath no continuance.

The second Booke of Characters.

CHARACTER. I. A Iaylor

IS the beggars body­lowse, which liues vp­on the bloud and car­case of them which can worst spare any: Hee proceeds commonly from such a one, as could not gouern him­selfe, to gouerne others imperi­ously: Hee cannot thinke of a place, more sutable with the safe practise of his villany: No, not among the Roarers, or the com­pany of quack-saluers. A thiefe, and a Murtherer, bee the names which make him iron madde, whiles himself proues the more [Page 281] exquisite offender: And if for­merly hee hath bin infamous a­mong all, it proues felicity with him now to insult ouer some, and growes the more implaca­ble. At his first induction, hee begins (like all new Officers) to reforme Methodically: Hee may very well seem a boūtifull Host, for he detaines his customers whether they will or not but his boūty retireth, when he looseth aduantage. Hee is a true Alchy­mist: no dreamer in that sciēce: no, not the best proficient hath thriu'd better in his proiections: He doth indeed more wisely (by vertue of his stone-walls, with­out the Philosophers stone) con­uert rusty lrō into perfect siluer: He makes men beleeue, that the poore captiues shall worke in daily labour to get a liuing: whiles his coniecture is verified [Page 282] in their nightly labor, by wor­king through the enclosure; or being idle they get liuings too many. And by this meanes he makes a difference betwixt picking & stealing: for whom­soeuer he with-holds from stea­ling hee suffers to vse picking freely. If he perceiues an o­pen obiect of increase, he will himselfe worke the meanes of disorder by plentifull liquor, that so a large fine may redeeme the quarrell: To which purpose he doth sophisticate his fuming Beere, to breed a skirmish the sooner: and then the dungeon is a dreadfull word, vntill a com­petent bribe pacifie his humor. Hee lookes as carnestly and as often vpon the palmes of hands as if hee could tell mens Fortunes: and the truth is he can giue a shroad coniecture by [Page 283] that speculation. Nothing makes him so merry as a harsh Mittimu [...], and a potent captiue: they come like an inscription with a fat goose against new­yeares-tide: but baile sounds a sorrowfull retrait: as if the in­feriour Theife should loose a booty by composition: and yet he will take his wiues suretiship for the more extent of liberty, because he knowes her perfect in the secrets of that Alchy­mie. Crueltyes are deriued from himselfe into his whole family. Hee is a circumspect companion, and still dreames of an escape: and of a breaking forth he may well dreame, ha­uing so many putrified sores in one body: but seldome do any escape in his debt, though at their breaking out, they be a weeke behinde: for aboue one [Page 284] weeke he neuer trusts; and not so long, vnlesse the former ad­uantage will recompence a fortnights arrerages. He hath as great a gift in changing mens dispositions as pouerty and courtship: for he can make them beg that otherwise are a­shamed to begge. Briefly, he is in a manner, the Deuils hunts­man, who keepes those Beagles either for castigation, because they were not cunning enough, else for amendment of the Chace. For if he sends them forth, they proue Graduates, when they escape the Gallowes. As for himselfe, you may either meet him in the midst of Car­rowses among his Customers, or riding post in mellancholy, to re-imparke his wilde runna­gates.

CHARACT. II. An Informer

IS a protected Cheater, or a Knaue in authoritic, licenced by autho­rity: he sprang from the cor­ruption of other mens disho­nesty; and meetes none so intri­cately vitious, but he can match the patterne: which makes him free of all Trades by the statu [...]e: for this giues him a freedome to seruey all besides himselfe. He is a fellow as much behold­ing to his fiue senses, as to his intellectuals: he can diuersly imploy all his senses about di­uerse obiects; but commonly they are all occupied about one or two chiefly: the winding vp of a [...]acke is better then musicke to his eates in Lent: the steame [Page 286] of a roasted ioynt attracts his nostrils vnsatiably: the sight of a shoulder of mutton then feeds his stomacke; but the taste and feeling of it, prouokes him to a dreadfull insultation. He is worse then an Otter-hound for a diue-dopping Ale-house-kee­per: and hunts him out vnrea­sonably from his Element of Li­quor; and yet he may seeme rea­sonable honest, for he hearkens readily to a composition. But whilst he consents to saue men harmelesse (vpon tearmes in­different) he makes open way for another of his coate to in­croach vpon the like premises. So that he seemes to be the dar­ling of some Welch pedigree: for he conspires with his owne profession, and makes a triumph of the least aduantage, in the very same manner. Let him be [Page 287] a tytle-sifter & he will examine lands as if they had committed high treason: But then he will be daunted though he weares a double night-cap in reading the due fortune of his predi­cessours Empson and Dudley; ex­cept his iudgement serues him to mistake the Chronicle. The lesser Foxe workes vpon simple creatures; and the base infor­mer vpon poore mens fortunes. He promiseth restauration to a forbidden Ale-house with an Exchequer licence to vexe the lustices: whilst hee takes forty shillings, three pound, or vp­ward for a single subpoena, to de­fend the Liquor-man, who in­curres new charges by trusting in the apparant cousenage. He takes away the relation betwixt a lawyer and his Client; and makes it generally extend to the [Page 288] Clearks in Offices; vnder whose safegard hee hath his Licence seal'd to trauaile: a foot-post & hee differ in the discharge of their packet, and the payment: for the Informer is content to tarry the next Tearme (perhaps) till a Iudgement. His profession affoords practisers both great and small; both bucke-hounds and harriers: the essence of both is inquisition. But the first is a more thriuing and ancient stocke of hatred: for he is a kinde of Antiquarie: the last is seldome medling with men much aboue him: howsoeuer, sometimes hee is casually the scourge of an ignorant Iustice.

CHARACT: III. A base Mercenary Poet

IS the most faithfull obsequious ser­uant of him that giues most: He [Page 289] subscribes his definition to all Dedicatory Epistles. If mother­wit raisd him to be a writer, hee shewes himselfe a dutiful childe and beggs Poems in defence of Nature: neither can he choose but betray himselfe to be a cos­set, by his odde frisking matter, and his Apish Titles: which may perswade any reasonable man, that hee studyes more to make faces, then a decent carri­age. If hee haue learnt Lillies Grammer, and a peece of Ouids Metamorphosis, he thinkes it time to ask his Patrons blessing with some worke that sauours very much of the authors meaning, and two or three Latine senten­ces. If hee hath seene the Vni­uersity, and forsaken it againe, because he felt no deserts which might challenge a Benefactor: Then hee calles euery man (be­sides [Page 290] his Patron) a despiser of Learning, and he is wonderfull angry with the world; but a brace of angels will pacifie his humour. If hee bee an expulsed Graduate, hee hath beene con­uersant so long with rules of Art, that hee can expresse no­thing without the Art of beg­ging, or publick sale: But com­monly hee is some swimming­headed Clark, who after he hath spent much time in idle Sōnets, is driuen to seeke the tune of Siluer, to make vp the consort. Necessity and couetous hire, bribe his inuention, but cannot corrupt his conscience: For though he vndertakes more thē hee is able, yet hee concludes within expectation of others that knowe him, and so hee de­ceiues himselfe only. Gold and Siluer onely doe not make him [Page 291] a hyerling; but enuy, malice, and the meanes to be made famous: among which means, the chiefe bee Libells, scandala magnatum, petty treasons, and imprison­ments. Hee will neuer for feite his day to necessity, if hee writes by obligation; which happens diuers times when hee is the Scriuener and the Debtor: For the tide of one Pamphlet being vented at his elbowes, with lea­ning vpon Tauerne-tables; hee tyes himselfe to certain limites; within which precincts he bor­rowes much, translates much, coynes much, conuerting all to his proiect: and if matter failes, hee flyes vpon the Lawyer, or disgraces an enemy. Hee may dissemble with the world for he dissembles with himselfe: stri­uing to conceiue well of errors, though his conscience tells him [Page 292] they bee grosse errors: And when hee heares his play hissed, hee would rather thinke bottle-Ale is opening (though in the midst of winter) then thinke his ignorance deserues it. His Apo­logies discouer his shifting cou [...]enage: for hee attributes the vices of his quil to the Ages infirmity; which endures no­thing but amorous delightes, close bawdry, or mirthfull Iests: As if the ignorance of any Age could hinder a wise mans pro­positions. He makes Poems that consist onely of verse and rime in stead of excellent cōposures, with the same confidence that ignorant Painters make a broad face and a flat-cap to signifie King Harry the eight: confoun­ [...]ing (like a bad Logician) the [...]orme and the dimention. Hee is a fraded fellow, though he seems [Page 293] a Scholler: but is neuer free of the Company, or accepted, till hee hath drunk out his Appren­tise-hood among the graund Masters: and then with an vniuo­call consent, hee may commend his Wares, turne them into the fashion, dresse ouer his olde Pamphlets, and not be any way disgrac'd among them. If his owne guilty iudgement cannot approue his owne Poems: Hee thinks his fortune good enough to make his Reader approue, or dispence with follies: and vpon that hope hee dares often pub­lish, and is as often laught at: but he hath wit enough to serue the whole Citty, if hee makes the Lord Maiors pageants. He presumes much vppon abso­lute good meanings, though the Text be palpable: and yet where hee commends himselfe best, he [Page 294] is not refractory, for he still pro­mises amendment, or some more voluminous worke, to gratifie his benefactors; but hee could neuer liue long enough to finish his miracles. Many haue beene accounted traytors who haue conspired lesse against the King then he: for he layes plots in wrighting to make the King loose his time, if hee vouchsafe to see them Acted. But hee is much indebted to the fauour of Ladies, or at least seemes to haue been gratiously rewarded. If he affects this humour, hee extolls their singular iudgement before hee meddles with his matter in question: and so selles himselfe to the worldes opinion. If his handes bee no more actiue then his head, hee is guiltie of many a good Scribes idlenesse, by ma­king that legible, which (before [Page 295] Transcription) might haue bin tollerable folly. If you be ther­fore an honest, or generous pa­tron, suffer him not to bee prin­ted.

CHARACT. IIII. A common Player

IS a slow Payer, seldom a Purcha­ser, neuer a Puritan. The Sta­tute hath done wisely to ac­knowledg him a Rogue E [...]ratum in the last [...] errant, for his chiefe essence is, King A­gesilaus tea­ches the re­sp [...]ct due to comm [...]n players in h [...]s and were [...]. [...] cor: & thin­king himself not graced enough by the kings no tice, as the King passed along, doth saw [...]ily in­terrupt him thus; doth not your ace know me? [...] said the King, thou art Ca [...] the Pl [...]yer. A daily Counterseit: He hath beene fami­liar so long with out-sides, that he professes himselfe, (being vn­knowne) to be an apparant Gen­tleman. But his thinne Felt, and his silke Stockings, or his foule Linnen, and faire Doublet, doe (in him) bodily reueale the Bro­ker: So beeing not sutable, hee [Page 296] proues a Motley: his mind obser­uing the same fashion of his bo­dy: both consist of parcells and remnants: but his minde hath commonly the newer fashion, and the newer stuffe: hee would not else hearken so passionately after new Tunes, new Trickes, new Devises: These together apparrell his braine and vnder­standing, whilst he takes the ma­terialls vpon trust, and is himself the Taylor to take measure of his soules liking. Hee doth conicc­ture somewhat strongly, but dares not commend a playes goodnes, till he hath either spo­ken, or heard the Epilogue: neither dares he entitle good things Good, vnless [...] hee be [...] on by the [...] [...]hen hee sait [...] [...] with a [...] cant or persist [...] hee [Page 297] pretends to haue a royall Master or Mistresse, his wages and de­pendance proue him to be the Iuxta Plau­tinum illud [...]: quin [...] conductior sum quam tragaedi aut comici. seruant of the people. When he doth hold conference vpon the stage; and should looke directly in his fellows face; hee turnes a­bout his voice into the assembly for applause-sake, like a Trum­peter in the fields, that shifts pla­ces to get an eccho. The cauti­ons of his iudging humor (if hee dares vndertake it) be a certaine number of sawsie rude iests a­gainst the common lawyer; han­some conceits against the fine Courtiers; delicate quirkes a­gainst the rich Cuckolda Citti­zen; shadowed glaunce for good innocent Ladies & Gentlewo­men; with a nipping scoffe for some honest Iustice, who hath imprisoned him: or some thrif­tie Trades-man, who hath allo­wed [Page 298] him no credit: alwayes re­membred, his obiect is, A new play, or A play newly reuiued. O­ther Poems he admits, as good­fellowes take Tobacco, or igno­rant Burgesses giue a voyce, for company sake; as thinges that neither maintaine, no [...] be against him. To be a player, is to haue a mithridate against the pesti­lence: for players cannot tarry where the plague raignes; and therfore they be seldome infec­ted. He can seeme no lesse then one in honour, or at least one mounted; for vnto miseries which persecute such, he is most incident. Hence it proceeds, that in the prosperous fortune of a play frequented, he proues immoderate, and falles into a Drunkards paradise, till it be last no longer. Otherwise when ad­uersities come, they come toge­ther: [Page 299] For Lent and Shrouetues­day be not farre asunder, then he is deiected daily and weekely: his blessings be neither lame nor monstrous; they goe vpon foure legges, but mooue slowly, and make as great a distance be­tween their steppes, as between the foure Tearmes. Reproofe is ill bestowed vppon him; it can­not alter his conditions: he hath bin so accustomed to the scorne and laughter of his audience, that hee cannot bee ashamed of himselfe: for hee dares laugh in the middest of a serious confe­rence, without blushing. If hee marries, hee mistakes the Wo­man for the Boy in Womans at­tire, by not respecting a diffe­rence in the mischiefe: But so long as he liues vnmarried, hee mistakes the Boy, or a Whore for the Woman; by courtin [...] the [Page 300] first on the stage, or visiting the second at her deuotions. When hee is most commendable, you must confesse there is no truth in him: for his best action is but an imitation of truth, and nul­lum simile est idem. It may be ima­gined I abuse his carriage, and hee perhaps may suddenly bee thought faire-conditioned: for he playes aboue boord. Take him at the best, he is but a shifting com panion; for hee liues effectually by putting on, and putting off. If his profession were single, hee would thinke himselfe a simple fellow, as hee doth all professi­ons besides his owne: His own therefore is compounded of all Natures, all humours, all pro­fessions. Hee is politick also to perceiue the common-wealth doubts of his licence, and there­fore in spight of Parliaments or [Page 301] Statute [...] hee incorporates him­selfe [...] the title of a brother­hood. Painting & fine cloths may not by the same reason be called abusiue, that players may not be called rogues: I would haue the [...] Pedant goe study [...]o­gicke. For they bee chiefe ornaments of his Maiesties Reuell [...]. I need not multiplie his charac­ter; for boyes and euery one, wil no sooner see men of this Facul­tie walke along, but they wil (vn­asked) informe you what hee is by the vulgar title. Yet in the generall number of them, many may deserue a wise mans com­mendation: and therefore did I prefix an Epithite of common, to distinguish the base and artlesse appendants of our citty compa­nies, which often times start a­way into rusticall wanderers and then (like Proteus) start backe againe into the Citty num­ber.

CHARACT: V. A Warrener

IS an earthly minded man: Hee pluckes his liuing from the earths bowels: and therefore is his minde most conuersant about that element: He liues in a little Arcenall or watch-to­wer, being well prouided with Engines & Artilery: with which (like another tyrant) he doth encounter the enemies of his Inhabitants; that hee may en­grosse them all the more entire­ly: And yet in some respects he is a good Gouernour, for he de­lights more in the death of one enemy, then sixe subiects: The reason is apparant: for one foe is able to destroy twentie of his Vassailes; and so his gaines be [Page 303] preuented: Therefore a Pole­cat and he, are at continuall va­riance: yet he is charitable and mercifull, for if the Pole-cat turns Ferret & obeys him, none agree better: Hee doth Waiue much spoyle by his mid-night watches, and yet he owes no Lord▪ship: The truth is, tum­blers, nets, and other trafficke do escheate to him, although the owner be liuing. He verifies the prouerb of plenty: the more he hath, the more he would haue: for though his owne ground be full of breeders, yet he cannot forbeare to haue his hand in priuate Warrens. Hee is much, and most perplexed, because pales and hedges will not keepe his Cattell in com­passe: if he cannot therefore compound with the neigh­bours adiacent, he hath a tricke [Page 403] to affright those that transgresse their limites, by scattering mur­thered captiues (as Pole-cats, and Weasels) in their places of refuge: And this is a deepe quil­let in the profession: Besides this he hath little knowledge of mo­ment, except the science of ma­king Trappes: or circumuen­tion of innocent dogs to feed vermine. The chiefe petition of his prayer, is for blacke frosts, Sunne-shine weather, & calme midnights: vnder protecti­on of the last, he walkes feare­lesse, with a pike staffe, to exer­cise the liberty of that season a­mong other mens backsides: Where he hath many night­spels, to the hazard of much Pullen, and indeed all things thieue able; if he doth not play the valiant Foot-man, and take tribute of passengers: Neither [Page 305] is he worthy to be such a dealer with nets and Cony chatching if he could not intrap the Kings subiects: I make no question therefore that he is worthy of his profession: howsoeuer sometimes he is catcht in a pit­fall of liquor by his compani­ons: whilst they perhaps being Poulterers, proue tyrannicall substitutes, and rob his possessi­ons: but in reuenge, hee doth often encroach vpon the Poul terers likewise with a drunken bargaine.

CHARACT. VI. A Huntsman

IS the lieutenant of dogs, and foe to Haruest: He is proudly wil­ling to gouerne; and because he findes himselfe vnsufficient to [Page 306] deale with men wisely, he com­mands dogs; which fawne vpon the Master and snarle at stran­gers. He is froli [...]ke in a faire morning fit for his pleasure; and alike reioyceth with the Virgini­ans, to see the rising Sunne: He doth worship it, as they; but worships his Game more then they: And in some things al­most as barbarous. A sluggard he contemnes, and thinkes the resting time might be shortned; which makes him rise with day, obserue the same pace, & proue full as happy; if the day be hap­pie. The names of Foxe, Hare, and Bucke, be all tracting silla­bles; sufficient to furnish fifteen meales with long discourse in the aduentures of each. Foxe drawes in his exploits done a­gainst Cubbes, Bitch▪ foxes, Ot­ters, and Badgers: Hare, brings [Page 307] out his encounters, plat-formes engines, fortifications, & night­worke done against Leueret, Cony, Wilde-cat: Rabbet, Weasell, and Pole-cat: Then Bucke, the Captaine of all, pro­uokes him (not without strong Passion) to remember Hart, Hinde, Stagge, Roe, Pricket, Fa [...]ne, and Fallow Deere. Hee vses a dogged forme of gouern­ment, which might be (without shame) kept in Humantie; and yet he is vnwilling to be gouer­ned with the same reason: either by being satisfied with pleasure, or content with ill fortune. Hee hath the discipline to marshall dogs, and sutably; when a wise Herald would rather meruaile, how he should distinguish their coats, birth, and gentry. Hee carries about him in his mouth the very soule of Ouids bodies, [Page 308] metamorphosed into Trees, Rockes, and Waters: For when he pleases, they shall eccho and distinctly answere; and when he pleases, be extreamely silent. There is little danger in him to­wards the Common-wealth: for his worst intelligence comes from Shepheards or Wood­men; and that onely threatens the destruction of Hares; a wel­knowne dry meate. The spring and he are still at variance: in mockage therfore, and reuenge together of that season, he weares her liuery in Winter. Little consultations please him best; but the best directions hee doth loue and followe; they are his Dogs: If he cannot preuaile therefore, his lucke must be bla­med; for hee takes a speedy course. Hee cannot be lesse then a conquerour from the begin­ning, [Page 309] though he wants the boo­te; for he pursues the flight. His Man-hood is a crooked sworde with a saw backe; but the badge of his generous valour is a horn to giue notice. Battery & blow­ing vp, hee loues not: to vnder­mine is his Stratageme. His Physicke teaches him not to drinke sweating; in amends whereof, he liquors himselfe to a heate, vpon coole bloud: If hee delights (at least) to emulate his Dog in a hot nose. If a Kennell of Hounds passant take away his attention & company from Church; doe not blame his de­uo [...]ion; for in them consists the nature of it, and his knowledge. His frailties are, that he is apt to mistake any dog worth the stea­ling, & neuer take notice of the Collar. Hee dreames of a Ha [...]e formed, a Fox kenneld, a Bucke [Page 030] lodged, or a Hart in harbor And if his fancy would bee mo­derate, his actions might be full of pleasure.

CHARACT. VII. A Falkoner

IS the egge of an ordinary Goose­woman, hatcht vp amōgst Hawkes and Spaniels. Hee hath in his minority conuersed with Kest rils, and young Hobbies; but growing vp hee begins to han­dle the Lure, & look a Fawlcon in the face. All his learning makes him but a new Linguist; for to haue studied & practised the termes of Hawkes Dictio­nary, is enough to excuse his wit, manners, and humanity. Hee hath too many Trades to thriue; and yet if he had fewer, he wold [Page 130] thriue lesse: he neede not be enuied therefore, for a Monopoly, though hee be Barber surgeon, Physitian, and Apothecary, be­fore he commences Hawk leech: for though he exercise all these, and the art of Bow-strings toge­ther, his patients be compelled to pay him no further, then they are able. Hawkes are his obiect, that is, his knowledge, admirati­on, labour, and all: They be in­deed his idoll, or Mistresse, be they Male or Female: to them hee consecrates his amorous Ditties, which be no sooner fra­med then hallowed: Nor should he doubt to ouercome the fai­rest, seeing hee reclaimes such Haggards; and courts euery one with a peculiar Dialect. That he is truly affected to his Sweet­hart in her fether▪bed, appeares by the sequele; himselfe is [Page 312] sensible of the same misery: for they bee both mewed vp toge­ther: But hee still chuses the worst pennance; by chusing ra­ther an Ale▪house, or a Cellar, for his moulting place, then the Hawkes mew. Hee cannot bee thought lesse then a spie, & that a dangerous one: For his espi­als are, that hee may see the fall of what hee persecutes: and so the Wood-cocks perish: if they doe not, his Art is suspended. He is a right busie-body, who in­termeddles so much with others affaires, that he forgets his own: Hee would not else correct his Hawkes wildnesse; and be so ready to trample downe the standing corne; or make way through enclosures: That ar­gues him to be Rebellious & vul­gar; one apt to striue for liberty. His Man-hood I dare not signi­fie, [Page 313] it remaines doubtfull vpon equall tearmes, because, seldom tried with any thing but wild­fowle: and then hee performes, water-seruice; perhaps sea-ser­uice; but both, in some sowle manner: By Land he serues, on horse or foote; on both, to de­stroy Partrige, or Pheasant. You may truely call him an extream bad husband if he lyes in a Floc­bed; because hee meddles so much with Fowles & doth not feather his nest. There is no hope of his rising, though hee doth excell; for he rather seekes to make others ambitious of ri­sing, then himselfe: and there­fore though hee frames winges with Daeda [...]us, he thereby makes his Hawke onely fitt to aspire: Yet if any shall (by coniecture) take a flight from Paules Steeple; hee will (I suppose) as soone as [Page 314] any: for hee proues wiser alrea­dy in the art of winges then Blad [...]d. I had rather (in the mean time) take his worde then his oath; for when he speakes with­out an oath, hee is not troubled with the passion of his Curres, or Haggards; and therfore can­not so well excuse it, if hee breakes his promise. As for Re­ligion, shee is a bird of too high a wing; his Hawkes cānot reach it, and therefore not hee. And if hee flies to Heauen, it is a better flight, then any hee hath com­mended: There, I meddle not with him; thither hee must carry himselfe: for I can neither condemne, nor saue him.

CHARACT. VIII. A Farmer

IS a concealed commodity: His worth or value is not fully known till he be halfe rotten: and then hee is worth nothing. He hath Religiō enough to say, God blesse his Maiesty; God send peace, and faire weather: So that one may gleane Haruest out of him to be his time of happines: but the Tith sheafe goes against his conscience; for hee had ra­ther spend the value vpon his Rea [...]ers and Plough-men, then bestow any thing to the mainte­nance of a Parson. Hee is suffi­ciently Booke-read, nay a pro­found Doctor, if [...]ee can search into the diseases of Cattell and to foretell rain by tokens, makes him a miraculous Astronomer. [Page 316] to speake good English is more then hee much regards; and for him not to contemne all Arts and Languages, were to con­demne his own education. The pride of his House keeping is a messe of Creame, a Pigge, or a green-Goose: and if his seruants can vncontrowled finde the high-way to the Cup-boord, it winnes the name of a bountifull Yeoman. Doubtles hee would murmur against the Aurelius victor de vir: illust: fo 264. [...] Grachus tribunus plebis, leg ē tolit, ne quis quingenta p [...]us habe­re t [...]ugera. Tribunes law; by which none might occu­py more then fiue hūdred acres: For hee murmurs against him­selfe, because hee cannot pur­chase more. To purchase Armes (if he aemulates Gentry) sets vp­on him like an Ague: It breakes his sleepe, takes away his sto­mack, & hee can neuer be quiet till the Herald hath giuen him the Harrowes, the Cuckowe, or [Page 317] some ridiculous Embleme for his Armory. The bringing vp, and Marriage of his eldest Son; is an ambition which afflicts him so soon as the boy is borne, and the hope to see his sonne su­perior, or placed aboue him, driues him to dote vpō the boy in his Cradle. To petuse the Statutes, and preferre them be­fore the Bible, makes him pur­chase the credit of a shrewd fel­low: and then hee bringes all aduersaries to composition. If at length he can discouer him­selfe in large Legacies beyond expectation, hee hath his desire. Meane time, hee makes the pre­uention of a dearth his Title, to bee thought a good common­wealths man. And therefore he preserues a Chandelors trea sure of Bacon, Linkes and Pud­dings in the Chimney corner. [Page 318] Hee is quickly and contentedly put into the fashiō, if his clo­thes be made against Whitson­tide, or Christmas day: and then outwardly he contemnes appea­rance: Hee cannot therefore choose but hate a Lib 2. In [...]urop: tractatu. Quo Hi­sp [...]norum dignitas e­n [...]teat m [...] ­gis, illi in app [...]ratu & vestimentis omnia po­nunt. Spaniard like­wise; and (hee thinkes) that ha­tred onely, makes him a loyall subiect: for beneuolence & sub­sidies bee more vnseasonable to him, then his quarters Rent. Briefly, being a good house-kee­per, hee is an honest man: and so, he thinkes of no rising high­er, but rising early in the mor­ning; and being vp, hee hath no end of motion▪ but wanders in his Woods & Pastures so con­tinually, that when hee sleepes, or sitts, (I thinke) hee wanders also. After this, hee turnes into his element, by being too ven­trous hot, and colde: then he is [Page 319] fit for nothing but a checkered graue: howsoeuer some may thinke him conuenient to make an euerlasting bridge; because his best foundation hath beene perhaps) vpon Wool-packes.

CHARACT. IX. An Hostesse

IS (if beautifull) the abatement of reckonings, or the second course: if a widow, she is the iourneys end of a weather-bea­ten Traueller: if ordinary, shee is the seruant and the Mistresse; but in generall, shee is a recei­uer to all professions, and ac­quainted by experience with cookery, or sluttery. Bring inui­ted to her owne prouisions, shee prepares the w [...]y to mi [...]tigate her prises, either by exclayming [Page 320] vpon the hard times, or insinua ting the sublime price of Mut­ton. Shee must bee pardoned, though shee depart before sup­per is ended; for she is modestly ashamd to heare her sinfull rec­konings. She professes the kit­chin, but takes place in the chamber: and hauing interrup­ted the Guest with a cup of hear­tily welcome, shee signifies his sor­row, thogh it be manifest silence shee excuses the attendance by varietie of guests; and blaming the Maid-seruants, shee com­mends* That which a­grees with a co­uetuous ma [...]s gaine, agrees with his consci­ence, ther­ [...] what [...] against [...] [...]rofit, go [...]s ag [...]inst his consci­ence. her self for the sole agent and you must conceiue amisse of the shambles, or butter-market vpon her honesty. Her chiefest knowledge is to distinguish vp­pon the trades of our belly; and though she condemnes a Taylor for lengthening his bill with bumbast, stiffening, silke and [Page 321] buttons; yet shee furnishes her own in the same kind, with wine▪ bread, sallets and cheese; and though shee seldome abate the price of reckonings, yet she can giue a morsell of her own into the bargaine, if that may satisfy. She chuses seruants also that wil giue the best content: and that shee insinuates though shee vn doe [...] a traueller. Shee may ab­horre drunkennesse; but in her own house conceales it, and re ceiues the aduantage: neyther dares she reproue her husbands thirstie humor, least shee should loose her freedome; when hee resignes his power to lazinesse, by which hee was ingendred. Her husbands sloth makes her imployed proudly; being hear­tily ambitious of labour, if shee can boast well, that her paynes alone keepe her husband & his [Page 322] familie. She keeepes open house & therefore she thinkes a porter as much impertinent as laces to her placket. If her self be spunge and corke, shee hath a daughter or a Chaumber maide of luy. These and shee together make the best of a bad bargaine, and therefore shee asfoords no pen­ny-worth which is not the best that can suddenly be bought for mo­ney. She seldome inuites cost­free: for shee determines to bee paid commonly. If therefore she doth inuite, she is a rare wo­man; neither hath she any thing else to pleade raritie. Brieflie, shee is at [...]ing of cleane linnen that is the warrant of her clean­linesse: She makes the welcome of a new, the farewell of an olde Traueller. She hcarkens ioyful­ly to the numerons footing of horses and hauing with a quick [Page 323] accent twise called the Cham­berlaine, she is now busie about dressing supper.

CHARCT: XXII. A Tapster

IS an infernall: the Belzebub of a Sellor, and the very motion of a double Iugge. Hee was engen­dred by a Drunkards appetite and vrine. for nothing but his desire to fill and emptie, hath bred a Tapster. Hee is of a barmy dis­position apt to cleaue, and ther­fore hee seekes to be familiar at first sight; but in stead of friend­ship he retains the names of cu­stomers: only betwixt Brewers men and him, there passes hun­gry and thirstie loue; consisting of Hollaud cheese & Rowles in [Page 324] recompence of bottle-ale, and strong Beere. You may call him swinish, for hee beares cheife sway among the hog sheads: and claimes authority among them to Iuxta ho­ratianum illud in E­pod. 13. Deus haec fortasse be­nigna redu­cet in se­dem vice. Castig [...]n­dus est hic Bon [...]i com­mentarius, qui deluci­dat hasce partiuncu­las quasi di­gressi [...]am consolatio­n [...]m: at quám sapi­ [...] nunc [...] it [...] e­nim hic ost sensus. Deut sic prouidebit fortaise [...] illa idest dolia im [...]leta vinode quibus nunc [...] est loqut, quasi de recentioribus, reducanturi [...] locum buius vetust [...] [...], [...]ressi a­mico meo con [...]ule: et sic potius opinor intelligendus est [...]lle locu [...]. [...]emoue and preferre. Drawers and hee liue at variance; for hee thinkes the grape a disparage­ment to malt; and therefore he incounters Wine euen with the smallest beere hee hath, to af­fright the fortitude of Sacke, & Claret: But (which betrayes his stratagems) he gladly makes the Vintuers vessell his vassaile and Renegad [...]. Nay rather he farmes Diogenes his tenement; and, fearing he should bee disposses­sed [Page 329] (I thinke) hee puts in a valo­rous tenant that will beate the mad Cinicks braynes out if hee dares Incounter. His riches are single, they consist of single money: his profession double, it consists of double Beere: but then his faculties are againe so single, that if he leaues the sellar, hee must begge [...]: for ig­norance and lazine [...]t haue bin his education. Meane time hee is kept from Robbery by ex­change of single peeces: and yet he disables himselfe in exchang vnlesse hee expects nothing by delay. He feeles the same sorrow to heare you discommend his li­quor, that hee doth to see you depart. * It goes against his con­science to see the cup stand qui­etly; and against his stomack to see you preferre Mutton before powdred-beefe. He is a prettier [Page 326] fellow of his handes then any of the guarde: for giue him leaue to draw apace, and hee will strike down twelue gards. He hath an ambitious memorie which cannot deceiue him, be­cause hee hath taught it to de­ceiue others: for his aboun­dance of memory, and his mea­ning to get [...] stocke, labour to get a super [...]uous two-pence in the reckoning. He would make an asse of Kelly if he were liuing: Kelly wrought vpon somewhat; but this fellow makes money of meere nothing: for hee gets by froth, and emptinesse. His brain swarmes with a tempest of bot­tle reckonings; which makes him carelesse of hats: least hee should breed an impostume, by inclosing their multitude; else hee is afraide least the hot and moyst reckonings he carries in [Page 327] his head, shoulde dissolue his felt, and therefore he goes vn­couered; else to shew hee reue­rences the Cellar and weeke­dayes, more then the Church or Sabboth; for then onely hee playes the Turke, and puts on: else (which is indeed the reason) he knowes all commers claime his dutie, and therefore he walks bare headed to saue a labour. He attributes the scant measure of his Iugge, to the Cellars dark nesse, and his sauing nature; but rather then he will iustifie both, he hath a certaine slight or hand to fill the first [...], and so a voyds inquisition. All his con­science is, that he dares not cast away Gods good creatures; and therfore he preserues the drop­pings to make a compound He is an ignoble wret [...]h: do what you can, hee will couson you [Page 323] with his Can. Of his prayers and religion, I neither finde any thing, nor will I leaue any thing, written. But I belieue strongly, that in stead of Praying, he wishes to heare men desirous of Col­lops & Egges, or red Herrings. And therfore I thinke he should thriue best in a sea voyage; be­cause he commends the relish of meats seasoned exceedingly. His bladder is more capable then his greasie pouch; and more immoderately widened. He hath nothing to commend his literature, but Brachigraphy, or the science of short writing, which hee practises vpon the barrels head, or behinde the doore: the meaning whereof he expounds, but doth not dis­couer the rules. If he dares de­fend his function in Winter, he must prouide an Orator: for he [Page 329] speakes coldly for himselfe, as being troubled with a common hoarsnesse to betray his vigi­lance. Briefly, you must ima­gine him a light fellow, and like the corke, which swimmes with moysture, is supported with li­quor, and tyed about the bottle or iugges neck: there, or neere about that, you may finde him personally.

CHARACT. XI. A Lawyers simple Clarke

IS his Masters right hand, if hee bee not left-handed: or the second dresser of Sheep­skinnes: one that can extract more from the parchment, then the Husbandman from▪ the Fleece. He is a weake Gram­mar [...]an; for he beginnes to peirce, before he can construe [Page 330] well: Witnesse the Chamber­maide. Neither can you dis­commend him: for his best e­ducation hath beene at a dull Writing-schoole. Hee doth gladly imitate Gentlemen in their garments; they allure the Wenches, and may (perhaps) prouoke his Mistresse: but then hee must bee a customer to Cookes shoppes, and lowe Or­dinaries, or visit the Broaker, to bespeake Silke stockinges, without which he thinkes Gen­try doth much degenerate. ha­uing done thus (if his cloake did not reueale him by instinct) he might passe suddenly for a Gen­tleman presuming on which, & his plausible discourse, he dares attempt a mistresse: but if hee chooses worthily, he feeles him­selfe worthily contemned, be­cause he woes with bawdery in [Page 331] text; and with Iests, or speeches stolne from Playes, or from the common-helping Arcadia. Hee may be reasonably commaun­ded by his maister in atten­dance: but if hee rides with a Cloake bagge, he thinkes him­selfe disgraced behinde his backe. Hee may bragge of the Vniuersitie, and that hee hath commenced; yet hee can hardly tell you by learning the Strabo: [...]ib. 1 [...]. [...] ­talus rex Mysiae [...] ­bliotheeam Pergam [...] op­pleuit ducē ­tum mille generibus librorum: In Forum autem vsum pelles oui­nae compa­ratae fuerū [...]; q [...]ae adhuc ob [...] t [...]ntummo­do causam vocantur Pergamens. first vse of Parchment; though it concernes him neerely; for being once in a Colledge, and now a Clearke, it seemes plaine that he was an arrant rakehell. Howsoeuer, he is otherwise a peaceable companion: for as hee continually makes agree­ment, so himselfe sits quietly, by his Embleme of meeknesse, the sheeps-skinnes; except the itch troubles him. You can make no [Page 332] question that he is prouided to dispatch readily; for hee hath his businesse at his fingers end. He may pretend Scholership: but all that is nothing vnlesse you compare it with a Iugglers, and then hee may seeme cun­ning: for hee doth exceed a Iuggler in the slight of hand: being able by his cleanly con­neyance, to remoue the pos­session of lands forty miles di­stant. He trembles therefore a­like with all Handicrafts, (though he most valerons) to thinke if he should offer violence in the Court: for vpon his Palmes & Fingers depend his In-comes. He is no vain Disputant: this know­ledge is positiue ingrossd, and so vpon record. Selfe-conceit in workes, he refuses: for hee la­bours about nothing which is not iustifiable by Presidents, [Page 333] either of West, his maister or a teacher. In the cōpasse of which three he tyes his approbation of witt so narrowly, that I cannot blame him if hee condemnes this Character, for (vpon my knowledge) hee can finde no such thing in the Presidents. Then hee doth not seeme to delight in a retired life: for hee sits alwaies in the most outward roome of his maisters chamber. He may be very much tēpted to pick & pilser; for Legit vt clericus cannot be applied to any man so fitly. He is not ashamed of what he doth: for hee regards not to haue a finger, but a whole hand in the busines. To which pur­pose you may see his name sub­scribed in Court, after sealed and deliuered. Hee doth relye vp­on his maisters practise, large indentures, and a deske to write [Page 334] vpon. He can shew little or no signe of humil [...]ty like his degra­ded lodging in the trūckle-bed; which hazzards many s [...]eabites, and the violent ayre of his Mai­sters feet. Westminster likewise doth not altogether not con­cerne him: hee hath a motion thither, and a motion there: Thi­ther hee moues by way of in­iunction from his Maister: there hee moues in the cōmon place of breake-fasts, for reliefe of his stomacke; and if hee can match his breake-fast and dinner with­out grudging of his stomack, he hath his desire. He is a follow­er: for he weares a liuery, but no seruant, for hee payes his owne wages. If he bee drunken you must say hee staggers, to a­uoide aequiuocation: for when he is sober hee makes Inden­tures. Seruing himselfe, hee [Page 335] serues God by occasion: for whilst hee loues his gaine, a [...]d serues his desire of getting, hee hates idlenesse. If his Maister thriues, hee cannot doe amisse; for hee leades the way, and still rides before. Hee is the Sophi­ster, or Soliciter to an Atturney; & from himselfe hee proceedes to an Atturney: that is his com­mencement. So that a Clearke in thesi, is an Atturney in Hypo­thesi.

CHARACT. XII. A Pettifogging A [...]turny

IS a fellow at your commaund for ten groates, and hath no inheri­tance, but a knauish forme o [...] vn­derstanding. Hee is extreamely graced if he talke with two vel­ [...]et cloak'd Clients in fiue [Page 336] Tearmes: and desires to salute great Lawyers, in view to pur­chase reputation. He is indeed the vpshot of a proud ignorant Clarke, and retaines his learning from Paenall Statutes, or an En­glish Little: on. He doth multiplie businesse, as a tinker multiplies worke, with mending: and in a Michaelmas tearme, hee will seeme more bus [...]e about offices, then a [...]lea at midnight in the midst of summer. He is a better commoditie to himselfe then Stockfish (being well beaten.) His chiefe inuention is how hee may take brib [...]s from both par­ties, & please both fashionably: how he may cousen his friends to all aduantage, and giue the glosse of good dealing: if his wickednesse thriues well, hee proues a te [...]rible Asse in a Lions skin: but whilst he out dares any [Page 337] man and forgets himselfe to be a buzzard, his considence de­ceiues him: Hee keeepes a tro [...] ­ting pace to signify imploymēt. Chancery lane is his loome: for in the tearme he runnes nimb­ly from one end to the other like a shuttle to weaue mischiefe. Subpaenaes, Executions and all Writs of quarrell be his bond­slaues. Hee doth naturally ex­claime vpon Poets and Players; they are too inquisitiue about his cousonage. Hee commends Diuinitie; but makes the profes­sors simple men when they sub­mit to his mercy: hee still pre­ferres the authority of a Statute where it makes for his purpose (though mistaken) before God and a good conscience. His Re­ligion is the Kings continually: And he would willingly come to Church on Sundaies if hee [Page 338] had ended his Declarations. He is in [...]atiatly giuen to get by any man hee deales with; so much, that he will scarse borrow ten shillings, vnlesse he may get ten pence. His chiefe pride is to be haue himselfe better then he is able, and chiefely in deliuering of his charge at Cou [...]tleetes: where hee assumes much pe­remptorie state, and knowes the audience cannot appreh end where hee stole his lesson: and then though his minde bee not in the Dishes, it is in the K [...]tchin. There is such a neere vnion be­twixt him and fees, that if igno­rance hath made him spare a deceite in ouer-burthening his client, hee thinkes hee hath not done as he should doe, and that hee deserues miserably to bee laught at. His highest ambition is an Innes of Court, an old rich [Page 339] vviddow, and the Stewardship of L [...]etes, and still he hopes to be the first of his name: He loues lit tle manners but where he hopes to saue, and there he playes the [...]ychophant. Hee had rather eate still then wipe his mouth: rather (I meane) see [...]e meanes to mul­tiplie, then to repent his olde couse age. hee thinkes nature may iustifie his dealing though he proues somewhat bold with his kindred; & therfore hee will couzen his own brother before any man. His almes bee oulde Shooes for Broomes: one for a­nother: for without receiuing he neuer giues. His discourse is commonly attended with a Sc [...]re facias, and he is ashamed in his heart when he heares of a cun­ninger knaue then himselfe. Briefly, hee is indeed a meere Atturney, sit for all turnes that [Page 340] any way enrich his Cofer: for he hath [...]nauery enough to cosen the people, but wit enough to deceiue the gallowes. Howso­euer being too busy about his common baite of lucre (think­ing to snap at the diuels glow­worme, (he is catched in his common noose, the Pillory, from whence he is deliuered: but the Hunts-man markes him for an old breeder.

I might heere accuse some excellen [...] Atturneys (though they be good patterns of their countreys knowledge) because they [...]could not in my former impression take this Character without scandall to themselues and honesty: and yet I pardon their mistaking: Because it is no [Page 341] discredit for a good Atturney to be no good Logitian.

CHARACT. XIII. A crafty Scriuener

IS the curse of mans crafty dea­ling: Hee is a curious worke­man, and may be free of the Lock-smithes: for full of Instru­ments hee is, and Engines: and makes Manacles for any mans wearing aboue Twenty One. His first ambition commonly is to ioyne forces, and make vp his defects of pollicy, and custome by partaking in anothers pro­iects: Then doth hee readily aspire to frequented places, a conuenient shop, the notice of his neighbours, and so engrosse credit, or some text Widdow, by the Nouerint of his Grogren­gowne: [Page 342] A cōmon Strumpet ne­uer fawned so much on a young h [...]ire, as hee with flattery ob­ferues the Vsurer, and with nice dutifull care to preserue him, makes his rotten hide, the chiefe Indentures that containe his Title. Obligations bee his best prayers: for hee cannot tie God to performe conditions, or put in suertyship. His friendship hath a Counter-maund of being too honest; which hee wil obey, rather then not saue by the bar­gaine. Hee is the safest man from danger in the ped [...]gree of rapines; for first, the Gallant liues by sale and Countrey Te­nants; the Citizen by the Gal­lant; the Scriuener and the De­uill vpon both, or all: so neither­liues by losse with the Gallant, nor vpon trust, with the Citi­zen: His condemnatiō is a knot [Page 343] of Seales and their Impression: the first discouer to him a confor­med vnity; yet none hath more hand in the procuring of vari­ance. The last d [...]scouers a tract­able nature, which giues & takes impression Of the [...]irst (that is to giue) he knowes no meaning but when he giues the print of his fist, that it may sticke by elder brothers a whole age: Of the last (that is to take impression) he knowes none but a wrong meaning: for the best seale that imprints loue in him, is onely the Kings picture; and that loue continues no longer then he beholds it. His quills and instru­ments betoken peace: you can­not therefore expect more va­lour in him, then to win ground by the aduantage of weake Pro­digalls, and such as runne away from thristinesse: they be most [Page 344] importunate with him: with them he preuailes most: to them he sels his extortious nature at the highest value, because they be most willing to make it their peny-worth. Is it possible hee should escape damnation, when his whole trust and dealing is in great Security? Hee will suspend his neerest familiars, and not absolutely resolue them what he is able to doe; in hope to pur­chase a supper or some prouo­king remtmbrance: and if hee be brought to testifie against his Vsurer, he will counterfeit his knowledge, worse then a com­mō Bawd that is questiond by an Officer about whoores. I know not how he should be trusted in his dealing: for when he promi­ses to do much for a spēd-thrifts bribe, hee writes against him soon after, by making that Bond, [Page 345] which he knowes will be forfei­ted. His memory is his own; a­nother cannot safely trust it, in reckoning the day of payment: for he reckons what he can saue, by renewing the hazard of a second forfeit, not your los [...]e by the first: and so he ouer-rea­ches you, by ouer-reaching the time, when you trust his memo­ry: If you trust him therefore you may feele the forfeite, and pay largely for an acquittance. He may perhaps helpe a friend in aduersitie, but he will be damnd first; by helping more for profit sake then friendship. His learning iumps iust with, or falls sometimes short of an At­turnies; being onely able to repeate the asore-said forme to thousand purposes: So all his mystery indeed is nothing to encrease his Art, but his Policy, [Page 346] or plaine knauery: And that being serued in, to the worlds banquet, represents a large Foxes head, and a little Sheep­skinne in diuers dishes. It is the totall of his Creed, that nothing should be iustified, or called lawfull, which hath not hand and Seale: that makes him ex­ercise Hand and Seale, as the war­rant for deuises of his head and Soule. He neuer rayses the spi rit of a Prodigall by charmes, but he together rayses the spirit of māmon a Citizen; and then this potent coniurer bindes them both fast in a Quadrangle. Hee will seeme to know the Statute and common Law; but com­monly the construction failes him (for he lookes to his owne aduantage) except the law hath practised vpon his hearing, to teach the comment when he [Page 347] mistakes the Law. Hauing at length beene a long Auditor to the sweet lecture o [...] Vsury, hee loues the matter so well, that he becomes proficient, graduate, and professour in the Science: but after generall profession he approches quickely to his cen­ter (from whence he sprung) Nothing.

CHARACT. XIIII. A wrangling Welch Client

IS a good Iourney-man, if not a good Foot-man▪ He is the one­ly friend of [...]awyers (i [...] they be Welch begotte [...]) and still sollicites them for a Iudgement. But we may credibly thinke he will entertaine English Lawyers [Page 348] likewise; for he makes the con­tention of Wales exceed the wranglings of Norfolke alrea­dy. His valour is, that he can by no meanes carry coales; and is euer therefore fittest for an action of the case. When hee expresseth (as oftentimes hee doth) bountie to out-braue his aduer [...]ary before his Coun­sell, then doth he rather and in­deed expresse a spightfull ar­rogance; manifesting that he beleeues himselfe to be a kins­man of Cadwallader, though he deriues his pedegree from the dust of ninetynine generations: and he thinkes himselfe enno­bled by the conceit of Owen Tu­dor as much as if they had beene brothers children. When hee visits offices he will drawe such a number of purses (if his ad­uersary be present) that you may [Page 349] thinke he hath cutt or found a douzen in or betwixt Wales & Westminster. His pride lies wrapt vp in a clout betweene his legges, or in a pocket in the Armehole: from thence hee drawes his Angels to feed his Lawyer, though himselfe sleepe supperlesse. (Howsoeuer) hee is content to be his owne Cooke; and though his dyet be slender, yet his money and victuals lie within a clowtes thicknesse: which might excuse him from a beggerly want of food, but ra­ther detects him of a beggarly pride. It is impossible he should eate much: for the least prouo­cation makes him so froward; that you may verily thinke hee hath eaten her pelly full of Wasps and Salamanders, euery houre in the day. But he saues many meales in cheesemongers [Page 350] shops; by tasting often: and when he hath disliked all, hee contents himselfe with a parcel of two peniworth at the Cha [...] ­delors. He makes the Tearme his time of Pilgrimage, and Offices at Law, the Shrine where hee offers vp his douoti­on: Which (after he hath ended his voyage) amounts to volun­tary pennance; for he travailes bare-foote. Though he bee long in trauaile and tarries late, yet nothing can be recouered by de­fault of apparance: for invn­dations be his perpetuall affida­uit: and he sweares [...] was ouerflowed with a witnes; when all the country about complaind of drynes. The profit which he giues to English Law yers, he giues generally to the Lawes profession: that proceeds from his language, which to [Page 351] the credit of Innes of Court, and Lawe French, he vtters harshly, with great amazement of beholders. His body is so proportioned to his minde, and his clothes to his body, that you cannot finde a fitter modele of enuy in the most beautifull worke of Spencer: For as [...] pines away her c [...]rcasse when another thriues, so cannot she be cloathed better then (as a Welch Clyent is) with spoiles of innocence; Erise; or cotton. The best thing about him worth commendation is, that he can­not long dissemble his cariage and malice; for he goes with­out a cloake continually. A peece of Parchment and a Seale throughly paid for, sat [...]sfies him presently in stead of iudge­ment; but otherwise he spends his faith vpon the hope of costs: [Page 352] And if he dies before executi­on, he scarce hopes to be saued.

Many of the nation were offended lately with this Cha­racter, which nothing doth concerne them; if they had sa­ued their fury, they might haue beene thought wiser-men.

CHARACT. XIIII. A plaine Country Bride­groome

IS the finest fellow in the Parish; and hee that misinterprets my definition, deserues no Rose­mary nor Rose-water: He neuer was maister of a feast before; that makes him hazard much new complement: But if his [Page 353] owne Maister bee absent, the Feast is full of displeasure; ex­cept in his latter dayes he grew rebellious. He shewes neere affinity betwixt mariage and hanging: and to that purpose, he prouides a great Nosegay, and shakes hands with euery one he meets, as if he were now preparing for a condemned mans voyage. Although he points out his brauery with rib­bands, yet he hath no vaine­glory; for he contemnes fine cloathes with dropping pottage in his bosome. The inuitation of guests, prouision of meate, getting of children, and his nuptiall garments, haue kept his braine long in trauaile; if they were not arguments of his wooing Oratory. He inuites by rule within distance, where he hopes to preuaile; not with­out [Page 354] some paraphrase vpon his meaning. But (howsoeuer) he seemes generous: for nothing troubles him, or takes away his stomacke more, then default of company: yet in his proui­sion he had ra [...]her take away your stomacke then fill your belly. As for his children if he begets aboue three, he may be­get for Gods sake to store the Parish. And yet his rayment (for the time) must shew much vari­etie, The Taylor likewise must be a vexation to him, or his cloathes would neuer sit han­somely: But (aboue all) a bridle in his mouth would serue better then a Pickadell; for if you re­straine him from his obiects, & the engine of his necke, you put him into the Pillory. He hath long forecast with his Sweet-hart in some odde corner of the [Page 355] milke-house, how he may goe the sparingest way to worke when he marryes: and he hath only that meanes to make her beleeue he is a frugall good husband▪ but though he medi­tates a twelue month, he cannot finde wisedome to spare halfe a yard, in the length, of his faire troublesome cloake. He must sauour of gallantry a little; though he perfume the Table with Rose-cake; or appropriate Bone-lace, and Couentry-hlew. He hath Heraldy enough to place euery man by his Armes: But his qualitie smels rancke with running vp and downe to giue a heartily welcome: Blame him not though he proue pre­posterous: for his inclination was perhaps alwayes good, bu [...] his behauiour now begins: which is notwithstanding (he thinkes) [Page 356] well discharged if when he dances, the heeles of his shooes play the Galliard.

CHARACT: XVI. A plaine countrey Bride

IS the beginning of the world: or an old booke with a new Title:

A quarters wages before hād and the title of a Countrey Dame be the two Adamants of her affection. Shee rises with a purpose to be extreamely sober: this begets silence, which giues her a repletion of aire without ventage: and that takes away her appetite. Shee seemes therfore commendably sober vnto all: but she driues the Parson out of Patience with her modestie, vn­lesse [Page 357] he haue interest, or be inui­ted: She inclines to statelinesse, though ignorant of the mea­ning: Her interpretor, taster, caruer, and Sewer, be therfore accidentall: and yet without these, she were an Image to the assembly: all the good orna­ments that she hath to grace her when she is married; be the se­uerall tunes of ballades & songs besides halfe a douzen tales and prouerbs, with as many tales & rid [...]les; and guilt rases of ginger Rosemary and Ribbands be her best magnificence. She wil ther­fore bestow a Liuery, thoug she receiues back wages: behauiour sticks to her like a disease; neces­sitie brings it, neither can shee take pleasure in the custome: & therfore importunacie with re petition, enforce her to dumbe signes: otherwise you must not [Page 358] expect an answere. She is a cur­teous creature: nothing pro­ceedes from her without a cur­tesie. When the wedding din­ner is ended, she hath a liberty from that day forward, to talke of weaning Calues and fatting poultrie among the housewiues to her lifes end. She hath no ra­rity worth obseruance, if her gloues be not miraculous and singular: Those bee the trophy of some forlorne sutor, who contents himselfe with a large offering, or this glorious sen­tence, that she should haue bin his bed-fellow. Her best com­mendation is to be kist often: this onely proceeds from her without interruption. She may to some seeme very raw in car­riage: but this becomes noted through the feare of disclosing it. She takes it by tradition from [Page 359] her fellow Gossips, that she must weepe showres vpon her marri­age day: though by the vertue of mustard and onions, if shee cannot naturally dissemble: but good simplicity hath not taught her the Courte-inuention, to squeake loude enough on her marriage night likewise: So Shee hath little or nothing to confirme her honesty: besides that which plaine innocency af­fords. Now like a quiet creature she wishes to loose her Garters quickly, that she may loose her maiden-head likewise. And now she is layd.

CHARACT. XVII. My Mistresse

IS a Magicke glasse: In which you may discerne va [...]ities of the world, her selfe, and other [Page 360] women. She is a most intricate female text; and though her workes bee common, yet you may longer and with lesse per­fection study her meaning then the common law: For she is ready to giue a new, before you haue learned the olde lesson. Shee hath a multitude of seruants and suffers all to bee before hand in their wages that they may still continue seruiceable. She may be truely said afayre one; for like some Faire of a dayes length her beautie spreads at morning and vanishes at night. The truth is I first began to looke vppon her, because shee said shee loued a Poet well, and was in part a Po­etresse: for which good quality I might haue loued her likewise but she was onely good at long Hexameters, or a long and a short euen for varietie-sake; which [Page 391] came so full vppon Ouids amorous veine, that I despised her meaning. You may well trust her that she will proue fruitfull: for she is a vessell made for bur­then; and is therefore light in cariage. her affection toward sweete meates haue made her like a sugar chest apt to take fire. She had her education vnder a great Countes; and if she could leaue the Courtship shee learnt whē she was a waiter, she might quickly proue a reasonable good womā. Her body is (I presume) of Gods making: & yet I cānot tell, for many parts therof she made her selfe. Her head is in effect, her whole body and attire: for from thence, and the deuises there ingendred, proceedes her blushing modesty, her innocent white teeth, her gawdy gownes, her powdred hayre, her yellow [Page 362] bands, her farthingales, and false Diamonds. All these together, and a quicke fansie commend her function: for Fidlers and Painters bee full of Crotchets. Shee is well acquainted with games, and is so farre confident they be lawfull, that shee makes no more conscience to couzzen you, then to handle a paire of Cards. She is alway loose-bo­died; conserue of sloes cannot binde her. You need not make the question whether she can sing; for visitation will teach you, that she can scarce leaue singing. And as for dauncing, she wil aske the question of you. She hath the trick of Courtship not to bee spoken with; to take Phisicke, and to let her mounte­bancke bee the best ingredient. She hath at idle houres handled Phisicke points her selfe: and if [Page 363] any man aduentures on her re­ceipts, hee will hardly scape a scowring. She is better then Greshams Almanacke to foretell seasons: When she complaines of head-ach, it signifies faire weather: for then she is medita­ting to deceiue some honest Gull: and when she complaines downewards, of the winde col­licke, it signifies an vncleane sea­son. suspecting that a fresh sui­ter hath or may bee ill informd of her conditions, she will pro­test before-hand that she was once troubled with a sixe mo­neths timpany. Her wit is Dain­ty because seldome: and whatso­euer is wanting in the present delicacie of conceit, she makes good by rehersal of stolne witty answers, euen to the seauenth edition. She purposes to tra­uell shortly: But her meaning [Page 364] is to returne with some French commodity; and she will rather fetch it, though she may be fur­nished at home, because shee loues the cheapest ware, and the out-landish fashion. She doth ambitiously bragge of the respect shee found among my Lords followers; and (so ho­ping to perswade by credit of her education) shee giues any man a gentle warning to refuse her. Her generosity extends thus farre; to bestow loue, and looke for neither thankes nor requitall: because a Marmoset and little Dog are ignorant of both. These excepted, she neuer loued truly. Her morall vertues be a subtill thrift, and a thriuing simplicity. But whilst she makes the best construction of a mat­ter, she would make likewise a thousand pound Ioyncture of [Page 365] her behauiour only, and Court­cariage. This bargaine is open for any man, who thinkes not the peny-worth doubtfull. And yet I must confesse freely she hath more goodnes about her little finger, then I haue a­bout my whole body: I meane her Diamond. Her best Religi­on is to teach a Parret the Lords prayer; but the ten Com­mandements be a new matter: so that Petitions be more plau­sible with her, then Instructions at her owne request therefore I giue this to her looking-glasse.

CHARCT: XVIII. A Gossip

IS a windie Instrument; a paire of bellowes, or indeed two: for without her fellow, she is no­thing. [Page 366] These labour ioyntly as at an Alchymists furnace, onely to beget vapours: she receiues and sends backe breath with ad­vantage; that is, her function. Her end is to kindle; That is, to warme, or burne: she can do both. And being quiet, or not in contention, she is without her calling; that is, her company. Her knowledge is her speech; the motiue, her tongue; and the reason her tongue also: but the subiect of her conference is the neighbours wife, and her husband; or the neighbours wife and husband both. The modesty that I could euer ob­serue in her dealing, is thus much only: she must be twise intreated among strangers, be­fore she takes downe a whole glasse. She is the mirth of mar­riages, and publicke meetings: [Page 367] but her naturall season comes in with a minc'd pye, at Christ­mas; when all may attend with leasure. She carries her bladder in her braine; that, is full; her braine in her tongues end; that she empties: It was washed downe thither with pintes of Muscadine; and being there, she looses it like vrine, to ease her kidneyes: which would o­therwise melt with anger, if she might not speake freely. Being once a seruant, she then learnt to runne, or goe apace; that shee might tarry and take, or giue intelligence by the way. She aemulates a Lawyer in ri­ding the circuite, and therefore she keepes a circuit, in, or out of her owne liberties: striuing to be both one of the Iudges, Iury & false witnesses: for she loues, to be vniuersall. She contemplates [Page 368] within, that she may practise a­broad, and then she spewes vp secrets as if they were mixd with stibium: her reasons be colour; that she dawbes on euery Fable: Her truth is, to make truths and tales conuertibles: tales be her substance, her conceit, her ven­geance, reconcilements, and discourse. Not one woman in the parish shall commonly be accounted honest without her licence: which must be purchasd by consenting to her motions. She makes euery new inhabi­tant pay the tribute of an inuita­tion, before she speakes well of him, or calls him neighbor: And by the vertue of a speciall mouth-glew, she cleaues readi­ly to all acquaintance. To talke of Cookerie, or cleanlinesse, & to taxe others, is her best and onely commendation. Her [Page 369] lungs be euerlasting: she cannot be shortwinded: i [...] those would perish, she might be recouered. She is a like dangerous with the Poxe, to the towne where she inhabites: and being pledged, or admitted among the females she infects more easily. If she railes against whoredome, it sauours not of deuotion; for she is onely married, to escape the like scandall; from the doore outward. She is more fugitiue then a swallow: there is no hold to be taken of her in her owne house: A venison Pasty will drawe her all ouer the parish: nay her nostrill is so quicke, that she will discouer it though it be Mutton, within a miles com­passe; and vexe all the neigh­bors with her impudence if she be not inuited. The buriall of a second husband giues her the [Page 370] title of experience; but when she hath out-liued three, she takes authority and experience both (as a Souldier that hath passed the pikes of three set bat­tailes) for granted. Her com­mendable antiquitie reaches not aboue fiftie; for growing old, she growes odious to her selfe first: And to preuent the losse of company; (hauing liued vainly) she commences hostesse: that alone preserues her hu­mour. A mungrill print would b [...]st expresse her Character: for she is indeed a mungrel woman or the worst part of both sexes, bound vp in one volume: see­ing she corrupts the best by the vse of them.

CHARACT. XIX. An old Woman

IS one that hath seene the day: and is commonly ten yeares younger, or ten years elder by her owne confession, then the people know she is: if she de­sires to be youthfull accounted, you may call her Mistres, widow, or the like: but otherwise old mother, Grandam, and such names that seale antiquitie: the first she takes well, if childlesse: the last neuer well, but when shee can speake wonders to grand-chil­dren of the third generation. If they please her, she hath old harry soueraignes, that saw no sunne in fiftie yeares, to giue away on her death bed. If shee bee not toothlesse, her teeth eate more [Page 372] then they chaw: for I presume they are hollow. She loues the vpper end of the table, and pro­fesses much skill in Cookery: shee thinkes it also some felicitie to giue attendance about sick per­sons: but is the common foe to all Physitians. In agues, aches, cough, and tissickes, she confidently will vndertake to cure by prescrip­tion: if her selfe bee vntainted. As for diseases which shee knowes not, she dares proceed to Dragon-water, Holy-thistles, Worme-wood drinkes, and Clisters, without the helpe of Galen, or Hyppocrates. if she blushes at the Sunne rising, her colour chan­ges not till bed time: and some times though she drinkes down her break-fast, by dinner time her teeth be grown, and she wil seeme to chew the cud. Shee lusts abundantly toward young [Page 373] women, that shee may talke as dame regent; or fall into dis­course of childbirth and mid­wiues. She may as safely walke amongst contagious Leapers, as into the kitchin; and smels in­fection, or perfume with the same nostrill. She hath perpetu­ally the pride of being too cleanl [...]e or the adherent vice of being too sluttish. She affects behauiour in the brood of youth, and will di­vulge her secrets of superstition to any that wil be attentiue. She hath with many complaints of Aches in her hippes bought an Almanack to know change of weather. Enuy is to her an inse­parable twinne, and though it be offensiue commonly to few, yet doth it oftentimes consume her selfe, and starue away her memory.

CHARACT. XX. A Witch

IS the Deuils Hostesse: hee takes house-roome and diet of her; and yet shee payes the recko­ning: guilty thoughts and a par­ticular malice to some one person makes her conceiue a detestatiō of all: her policy of sequestrati­on, to auoide iealousie of neigh­bours, detects her enuious spi­rit: for the melancholy darknes of her low cottage, is a mayne coniecture of infernals: her name alone (being once moun­ted) makes discourse enough for the whole parish: if not for all hamlets within six miles of the market. She receiues wages in her owne coyne: for she be­comes as well the obiect of eue­ry [Page 375] mans malice, as the fountaine of malice towards euery man. The torments therefore of hot Iron, and mercilesse scratching nayles, be long thought vppon, and much threatned (by the fe­males) before attempted. Meane time she tolerates defiance tho­rough the wrathfull spittle of matrons, in stead of fuell, or maintenance to her damnable intentions: shee is therfore the ignorant cause of many Witches besides her selfe: for ceremoni­ous auoidance brings the true title to many, although they har­tily scorne the name of Witches. Her actions may well seeme to betray her high birth and pede­gree: for shee doth quickly ap­prehend a wrong before it bee mentioned▪ and (like a great fa­mily▪ takes no satisfactiō which doth not infinitely counterua [...]le [Page 379] the abuse: children therefore cannot smile vpon her without the hazard of a perpetuall wry mouth: a very Noble-mans re­quest may be denied more safely then her petitions for butter­milke and small Beere: and a great Ladies, or Queenes name may be lesse doubtfully derided Her prayers & Amen, be a charm and a curse: her contemplations and soules delight bee other mens mischiefe: her portion & sutors be her soule, and a succu­bus: her highest adorations bee Yew trees, dampish Church­yards, and a fayre Moone-light: her best preseruatiues be odde numbers, and mightie Tetragra­maton: these prouocations to her lust with deuills, breedes her contempt of man; whilst she (like one sprung from the Anti­podes) enioyes her best noone [Page 377] about midnight: and to make the comparison holde, is trod­den vnder foote by a publicke and generall hatred; shee is nothing, if not a Pythagorean; for she maintaines the transmi­gration of spirits: these doe vp­hold the market of bargaine and sale among them; which affoords all sorts of cattell at a cheaper rate then Bankes his horse, and better instructed: but (like a prodigall) she is out-rea­ched, by thinking earnest is a payment; because the day is protracted. Her affections be besotted in affection of her sci­ence▪ She would not else delight in Toades, Mice, or spinning Cats without deuersity: it is probable she was begotten by some Mounte-banke, or Wor­ding Poet, for she consists of as many fearefull sounds without [Page 378] science, and vtters them to as many delusiue purposes: She is a cunning statuary: and frames many idols these she doth wor­ship no otherwise then with greedy scorne: and yet she is a deepe Idolater. Implication is enough with her; to bespeake any mans picture, without his entreaty: for if it appeares that he can prouoke her, it implyes likewise that he desires to be re­membred by her; and Images be a certaine memoriall. Shee seldome liues long enough to attaine the Mysterie of Oynt­ments, herbs, charmes, or In­cantations perfectly: for age is most incident to this corrupti­on, and destiny preuents her. But howsoeuer shee bee past childebearing, yet shee giues sucke till the latest minute of fi [...]escore and vpwards. If she [Page 379] out liues hempe; a wooden hal­ter is strong enough: vnlesse she saues a labour. But God forbid that age, simplicity, and frow­ard accusations should be a Witches tryall.

CHARACT. XXI. A Pandar

IS the scab of a common-wealth: surfeits raise him to a blister; necessity, and want of good Surgeons, make him a mattery sore; whilst time and Tobacco brings him to be a dry scale. He is commonly the vpshot of a yon­ger brother, who lackes Honestie and Inheritance; or the remain­der of a [...]rodigall, who hath lost them and himselfe. His Etymologie is Pawne-dare: which intimates, [Page 380] hee dares pawne his soule to damnation; or his stolne parcels to the Brokers. Or you may call Pandar, quasi pinne the dore. Bawdy songs and he came both in together, for he is no gene­rous companion except he can sing, and also compose stinking ditties. He hath beene a great hunter vp & downe in his daies, and therefore (it is no wonder) if towards a decay he become Warrener. Arts he studies not; neither wishes any but Rheto­ricke to catch maiden-heads. He is the deuils Country-man or indeed acquaintance: there­fore in the deuils absence hee proues his Deputie; and wel­comes customers with fire­workes: a pipe of Tobacco, & a h [...]t Q [...]eane. He is a corrup­ [...] [...]: [...]or he hath made [...] deriuation of body. [...] [Page 397] Vsher-like attendance on Pub­like whores hath made Coaches frequent; to distingush them & Priuate Ones. His valour is ex­pressed in blacke patches (much about roaring Boyes humour) but playsters, which expresse him more ventrous, hee con­ceales. He wishes to be the first teacher of a Nouice: and (being so admitted his Tutor) hee first teaches him to beware of adul­tery and theft, by bringing him into danger of both, before he deserues it. And with those two vices he doth first accuse him, because himselfe is best ac­quainted with those two. He may truely boast if he returnes from warre, that hee returnes wounded to the bones; for he was wounded so before he went. If he be married, hee hath diuorced himselfe, because [Page 398] his wife was honest, & so means to continue: or (being disho­nest) because she was odiously deformed, not worthy to entice others▪ In the vacation time he teach [...]s his whores the know­ledge of false Dice & cheating, by way of recreation; or he tra­uailes to get money with his Monsters at Sturbridge faire. His Greed is a matter of three Articles, and them he beleeues actually: First, that there is no God: secondly, that all women, and more especially that all Ci­tizens wiues, bee, or would bee, common, or peculiar whores: and lastly, that all things are lawfull, which can escape the Lawes danger: good examples therefore preuaile with him, as showers among the stones they make him more slipperie & studious to deceiue the people: [Page 399] For the more people be seasond with good examples, the more ready he is to intrappe them; not to imitate. His Fellowships be retired, and within dores: for being abroad, he is a sober lumpe of villany; delighting vnsociably (like a Cut-purse, & for the same reason) rather in multitudes then ciuill numbers. The [...]awd and Hee, are chiefe cō ­federats: with whom together, (as occasion happens) the Con­stable hath standing wages to be an assistant; euery way as Hee be­ing ready to disturbe or not di­sturbe their custo­mers, a [...] they shall instruct him dan­gerous as the other two. Bowling allies, di [...]ing-howses, and Tobacco shops, be the Temples, which he and his fraternitie of Roarers, haue erected to Mercury and For­tune: In the two first, he doth ac­knowledge their Deity: in the last he offers smoaking incense to them both, in recompence of [Page 400] booty gotten by Chance and chea­ting. If the Gallowes be disap­pointed of his desteny; they can blame nothing but his tender bones, which could not brooke so long a iourney; or a whores quarell, whilst Wine was his Leader.

Honest men are afraid of him and knaues and whores bee sus­picious of him; for he is an euill spirit▪ hee was neuer generally commended but when hee went to hanging; then hee was com­mended (doubtlesse) for a prop­perman: for euery fellow withan entire doublet is called propper man when hee rides to Tiburne.

CHARACT. XXII. A Friend

IS one of the waightiest sillables (God excepted) that English or a­ny Language doth afford. He is neerer to me then marriage, or naturall kindred of the same bloud; because loue without kindred or ceremony, is more to be admired; and by the conse­quent more precious. Marriage and Kindred goes oftentimes no further then the Name or Body: but friendship is annexed with vnanimity. My Friend therfore is either disposed (as I am) well: or well disposed to make me better. His multitude of ac­quaintance doth not extenuate his loue, nor deuide his affectiō. His lower fortunes be not dista­sted, not dissembled, nor swolne [Page 402] bigger then they bee. He must not be imployed in trifles and continually, like a seruant; nor with expectation, like a Sonne: For an absolute Friend will fi­nish (when importance calles) It a me dij­ament, tar­do amico nihil est quiequam iniquius. Plau. In [...]. Act 13. before he can be requested. He therefore among all, confutes the saying of Profferd Ware stinks Wares profferd: For what a Friend giues freely, either to preuent request, or to* Inuendibi­li merci o­portot vl [...]ro emptorem adducere: proba meix facile emp­torem repe­rit. ib [...]dem. [...] a modest silence) inchāts [...] party. Hee is much dearer, then my leggs and armes, for he is my body and my soule toge­ther. His honour is true loue: which being so, hee loues be­cause he will not, & not because he cannot alter: That man cannot alter, who cannot with honesty disclaime affection; as being ty­ed with dotage or fauour [...] a­boue merrit and requitall: But friends will not: which signifies [Page 403] that their loue depends vpon approbation of the naked man. A Friend therfore must be free­ly chosen not painfully created: for iealousies and feares intrude when fauours be not mutuall; if fauours bee the first beginning. He is manifest to me, whilst inui­sible to the world: and is indeed much about the making of this Character; little in worth and little pleasing at the first sight. Hee is able and willing, to coun­cell, to perform. A second mee­ting thinkes him fitt; A second tryall knowes him a fit Friend. The meere imagination of a friends loue is an inchanted ar­mor: my heart is impenetrable whilst I weare the comfort: for whether I suruiue or dye, my Friend pre-serues me. Time nor anger can dissolue his amity: for either he submits and I pardon, [Page 404] or I submit & he pardons. Hee is like a true Christian, that vnder­takes & suffers for Christs sake as a freind for his freinds sake with equall ioy, both credit and discredit, rest and trauaile. Be­ing once had, a freind is full e­nough, and true a needles epi­thite: for I am his, he mine: and being so, we are one to another the best or no freinds. It is foo­lish Paganisme to worship the suns rising, which doth regard al alike with his Idolaters: and it is crazy dotage for any to honour that freind, who prostitutes his fauour to the Popular men can­not be per­fect freinds. [...] seu beati­tudo est perfect▪ [...] bo­n [...]m huma­ [...] actio­ [...]: Ethi [...]. worlds liking. A perfect freind, thinkes freind­ship his felicity: without which estimation, the neerest freind­ship, is but a sociable custome: for man hath neuer made an ac­tion perfect, vnlesse he drew fe­licitie from his actions nature.

CHARACT. XXIII. A sicke Machiauell Pollititian

IS a baked meate for the de­uill; and a dinner of dainties for Phisitians: the villany which makes him fit for the de­uils banquet, is close and pri­uate: but his bountie to pre­uaile with phisicke is prodigall. He is in securitie a Contingē ▪ dicitur quod est, & poterat non esse: possibile, quod non est & potest esse. Mol: lib. 1. fol. 50 contingent Gull; in death a possible confu­sion: for sicknes lookes for him, before he looked for it; vnlesse he poysons himselfe: therefore he is taken vnproui­ded; so, proues a gull: And vp­on deaths approach, he feeles a tumult within himselfe be­cause he looked no sooner. He thinkes vpon his lifes procee­dings, [Page 406] either with careles Infi­delitie, or sorrow to be inter­rupted: and he fi [...]des no shift­ing pollicy to answere his lowd conscience, but only this, Arte ho­n [...]st a bene­ [...]iceat [...] in-honest ā [...] ▪ which be­ing prou [...]d by many [...] deuises [...]s also ma­ [...] in the most no [...] table st [...]ry reckond by [...]. P [...]r [...] de mag [...] natur: of [...] fol. [...]. [...]estus: qui­vis homo [...] appel­ [...] [...]. ar [...] d [...]luditur arte: meaning that it was lawfull for him to cousen the world, which otherwise would haue consend him. Religi­ous I cannot call him; * sacer I may call him iustly: for hee a­mong the Romans was entitled sacer, who by the people was generally condemned; a [...]d such is the generall fortune of a Pol­litician, when he growes sicke and toward a conclusion. In health he was like the Nimph Echo mentioned in Outds Fables: for he was alway deeply in loue with his owne pollicy; but pol­licie [...] ver­ [...] in so­num [...] despising to be his safe­gard against sicknes, he turnes (as Echo did) into noyse: for [Page 407] none is spoken of, so much as a Pollitician neere his death. It is deliuered, that the [...] lib. 14. c. 8. Romans chose no Senatour till he had worne his age by likelyhood past the meaning and sence of pleasure: Destiny hath taken the same order with a Pollitici­an: For he is neuer admitted to his infernal dignity, til he grows decrepit; and almost weary of himselfe. But I admire how poy­son should molest him: because he & poysō haue bene the most assured friends and familiars. The faculties of his soule are much indebted to the deuill: for he hath borrowed many darke inuentions from his patterne: and therefore like a Bankro [...]t he dares not walke abroad out of his body; least he should be arrested by the deuils officers. He may be truly likend to the [Page 408] couetous man; who scornes to be accounted poore, and is vn­willing to be accounted rich: A Pollititian likewise will not, in sicknes nor in health seeme careles of religion, as if he wan­ted piety; nor scrupulous in conuersation, as if he dealt only with Puritans. When he was lusty and in perfect health, his agents were like the Tinkers dog, which carries his maisters budget and knowes no meaning of the tooles: but when he falls sicke he makes euery messenger know his griefe. As Herodot [...] lib. 6. Era: 4. 18. si ex capite Si­mulacri flā ­ma [...] [...]ore vt vr­bem ab [...] cap [...]ret, c [...] veró epec­ [...]ore fulgur extiterit id omne fuisse con [...]ectum quod deus [...] [...]ici vo­ [...] Cleomines interpreted the fire which brake from Iunoes Image, so may we interpret a Pollititians sicknes: If it proceeds from his heads deuises, as when he counterfeits to worke some subtlety, then we may looke that he will pre­vaile and recouer: but when [Page 407] his paines proceed really from the hart, we may then imagine that he can goe no farther. He makes me think of many Game­sters; who play cunningly while they can loose little; but when they hazard a round purchase, they proue arrant bunglers: and so the Pollitician is a most accurate gamester whilst hee doth only hazard some repara­ble fortune, but now he ven­tures the maine happines, life, he quailes and growes faint­hearted. In health he presumes to be so much a man, that he will gouerne monarchyes and men: but being (as I haue superscri­bed him) Sicke, he shewes him­selfe a little childe, which cryes most when it is vndressing, and made ready for the Cradle. His pollicyes were of a fine thrid, quicke and liuely: sicknes there­fore [Page 410] lumpish, agrees worse with him, then durty weather and silke stockings. You may per­ceiue when honest men dissem­ble, easily: for they will seeme distracted and will stammer in conference: because they feele their meaning and their speech di­uided; which pulls them two contrary wayes at once: But a curious Politician dissembles more intricately: because he will not listen to his hearts mea­ning, when he shadowes hate or piety with appearance: and ther­fore we are much beholding to his extreame sicknesse: for then hee is so farre from coulouring his anguish, that he discouers many more faintings then he needs. Death and sicknes makes him differ from a vegetable: For as a vegetable consists of Salt, Sulphur and Mercury; so likewise [Page 411] a Politician excells in three like properties: Wit, Sudden execution, and Enuy: but this makes the dif­ference: A vegetable yeelds the qualities, when it selfe perishes: A Politician, when he is best in health. No maruell though he be danted when hee remembers the next world, though in a stag­gering beleefe: for by the war­rant of potions, gloues, sallets, priuy stubbs, and false accusers, he hath sent so many thither be­fore him, that hee may iustly feare they will sue an appeale a­gainst him. Sicknes and impor­tunacy to recouer health layes him open to a double mischief; Death and Dishonor of manhood: For he tha [...] craues helpe where helpe cannot be afforded, suffers a double grie [...]e; want and dis­paire: as hee that walkes vnder a narrowe pent-house to shield [Page 410] himselfe from raine, f [...]eles a double shower; droppings from heauen, and euesdropps. A Poli­tician holds that opinion of ad­uancement which the [...] ­us Lae [...]us so 140. pars orbis sep­tentrionalis prospera putatur ob altitudinem Roman South-sayers held of the North­side: he thinkes it fortunate be­cause it is aboue the vulgar: and therefore is he most vnwilling to decline, because death makes Mors sceptra li­gonibus oe­quat. Hor: carm▪ lib. 2. aequality. Howsoeuer it is vnto him a greater sorrow to medi­tate the way of death, then to be dead; for being dead he looks for no disquiet. But after death his name growes old with be­ing odious, like that infortunate Rufus F [...] ­stus in breui ar [...]o fol. 372 captus autē Valerianus in dedecore Seruitutis consenuits Valerian, whose age was long, but taedious and disgracefull.

CHARACT: XXIIII. A Page

IS an abridgement of grea­ter charges, sprung from the [Page 411] destruction of hospitality and surloignes. He had neede be wel garded: for he is too little to de­fend himselfe: and yet hee hath proued himselfe a tall champi­on; for he and a footeman haue driuen away many valiant Buck­lers, and Blew-coates. When hee serues a Master, it may be the ti­tle of his function to bee squire of the body, for he waites neere about his person, and carries his weapons: being little hee is my Ladies Iewell: therefore shee thinkes him pretious; and finds no faulte with him but because he lacks weight: which is often times the weake reason why my Lady liues honest. Though hee bee little, hee hath a reasonable soule: but I can see little diffe­rence betwixt him and a Moun­key: they both serue to passe a­way time; and almost in the [Page 412] same manner: being either to be whipped or handled, or to be looked vpon. It seemes to me that his parents doubted of his long life; and therefore they take a course betimes that hee may know the world before hee dies, and learn experience while he liues: for before he grows to a yards length, he hath wicked­nede enough taught him, to damne a thrise bigger body with out originall sinne. He and a wench differ most in apparel He hath power to entise: for hee takes by gift a lease for yeers of Cupids diety▪ which ha [...]h conti­nuance no longer then he is vn­der growth. Among all of what condition and degree soeuer, he will be drunke most early and betimes in the morning: for he learnes to stagger at twelue and to bee dead drunke at fifteene: [Page 413] which is, to be drunke almost by fiue a clock in the morning: for fifteene yeeres of age, is three quarters past foure; reckoning foure yeeres to an houre from the natiuity. Hee belongs most commonly to the man; but hee is the womans play-fellow. Hee is much about the bignesse of Hercules his foote; the impression whereof (according to Herodo­tus) amounted to two cubits* [...] Hercu­les osten­dunt petrae [...] sim [...]le▪ [...] ubitali magnitudi­ne: uxta [...] [...]. [...]: lib 4. [...]. s. 288. length: But whereas the same author saith that the great regi­on of Exampei afforded little worth noting besides Hercules, his foote, I may protest it affor­ded nothing in comparison of a Page: for that being a region of two thousand miles compas, had onely an impression of two cubits: but a Page in the little compasse of two Cubits, hath a whole worlde of Roguery: [Page 414] which hee may perhappes iu­stifie according to his Oath because he cannot well discerne that his oath is better broken then kept: & so does nothing a­gainst his conscience. He smells after the waighting-gentlewo­man, as Fancy my Ladies dog, af­ter the great Spaniell-bitch: he proffers sayre, but can doe lit­tle to the purpose. Hee speakes Bawdy freely as if it were his mo­ther tongue: but he cannot bee so bad as his word. And thus by meere chaunce with a little dash I haue drawne the picture of a Pigmey.

I thinke it the most vnprofi­table, inhumane, and wretched basenesse, to multiply the least afflictiō; much more to triumph in a great mans sorrow: if ther­fore thou didst expect some [Page 415] sawcynesse, like to the late ele­gies, vnder this title, repent thy folly before thou makest it knowne.

CHARACT. XXV. An honest Shepheard

IS a man that well verifies the Latine peece, qui bene latuit bene vixit: hee liues well that liues retired: for hee is alwayes thought the most innocent be­cause hee is least publicke: and certainely I cannot well resolue you whether his sheepe or hee be more innocent. Giue him fat [...]e Lambes, and faire weather and he knowes no happines be­yond them. He shewes most fit­ly among all professions, that Natura paucis con­ [...]. nature is contented with a little for the sweete fountaine is his fayrest alehouse; the sunny ban [...]e [Page 416] his best chāber. Adam had neuer lesse need of neighbors frēdship; nor was at any time troubled with neighbors enuy lesse then hee: The next groaue or thicket will defend him from a shower: and if they be not so fauourable, his homely pallace is not farre distant. He proues quietnes to be best contentment, and that there is no quietnes like a cer taine rest. His flock affords him his whole rayment, outside and linings, cloath and leather: and in stead of much costly linnen, his little garden yeelds hemp e­nough to make his lockrum shirts: which doe preserue his body sweetend against court­itch and poxes, as a scare-cloath sweetens carcasles. Hee giues the iust Epitome of a contented man: for he is neither daunted with lightning and thunder, nor [Page 417] ouer ioyed with spring-time & haruest. His duly life is a delight full worke, whatsoeuer the worke be; whether to mend his garments, cure a diseased sheep, instruct his Dogge, or change pastures: and these be pleasant actions, because voluntary, pa­tient not interrupted. He com­prehends the true patterne of a moderate wise man: for as a shepheard so a moderate man hath the supremacy ouer his thoughts and passions: neither hath he any affection of so wilde a nature, but he can bring it in­to good order, with an easie whistle. The worst temptation of his idlenesse teaches him no further mischiefe, then to loue entirely some nut-brown milke­maid, or hunt the squirrell, or make his Cosset wanton. Hee may turne many rare esteemed [Page 418] Phisitians into shame and blush­ing: for whereas they with infi­nite compounds and fayre pro­mises, doe carry men to death, the f [...]rthest way about; he with a few simples preserues himselfe and familie, to the most length­ned sufferance of nature. Tarre and Honey be his mithridates and syrups; the which together with a Christmas Caroll, desend his desolate life from cares and me­lancholy. With little knowledg and a simple saith, he purifies [...]is honest soule, in the same manner as he can wash his body in an obscure fountaine, better then in the wide Ocean. When hee seemes lazy and void of action, I dare approue his harmles neg­ligence, rather then many ap­proued mens diligence. Breifely he is the perfect allegory of a most blessed gouernor: And he [Page 419] that wil pursue the tropes inuen­tion, may make this Character a volume.

CHARACT: XXVI. A Taylors man

IS a Coniunction copulatiue: He makes things hang together; & when his master seperates, he reconciles. A man would thinke he might bee trusted; for hee goes thorough stitch with businesse. He sits brooding like a Goose vpon the shop boord, and hatches parcells out of pee­ces. He will be any mans sump­ter-horse, between six and eight in the morning: and hee lookes for twelue pence, or a tester to bring men acquainted with their owne cloathes. He loues bread by custome; for it is a part [Page 420] of his trade to bee a binder Hee thinkes it no sinne to second his Maister: and therfore when his maister hath done stealing, hee begins. He doth or may resolue by vertue of his Indentures to feele a two-folde itch, though his indenture specifies faire v­sage and cleane linnen: And he holds it lawfull to shrugg vpon the shop-boord, but rather then hee will wriggle before Gentle­men, he dares be bitten to the marrow. The Basilisk and Eagle cannot match his eye-sight: for hee can looke through buffe, or three-piled veluet, but with his needles eye. Hee will stoope to your very breeches to doe you good, though you disgrace him vtterly. He carryes alwaies a­bout him the picture of [...]: [...] [...] Iuas repe­titum vene­ [...] olim, Grex aui­um p [...]umas, mo [...]eat [...] da a colo [...] ­bus. Hora­ces crow: but hee perceiues no such matter: he weares his ap­parrell [Page 421] by leaue of the peoples ig­norance: for if euery customer could challenge his owne rem­nant, hee would be stript naked. He needs not vse the Corn cut­ter; for the slip-shoe fauours him. Call his theft in question, and hee condemnes himselfe: for he pleads auncient custome; whereas Antiquity punish'd [...] fur­runt tem [...] [...] [...] [...] ­ra [...]: ma [...] nec in [...]nde­stum, e [...] con­ [...] qui [...] [...]ur­tum non manifestum duplionem lui [...]o. [...] [...]: apud [...]: close theeuery of that kinde, with a double payne. Hee hath little or nothing to plead chri­stianity and courage, but sitting crosse-leg'd: Which property makes him reuerēce the Knight semplars, and thinke that his profession hath beene of the same order Hee hath no more courage then will serue to com­mend his owne workman-ship: And you may know as well whē a Blackamore is dead, as when hee dissembles by the countenance. [Page 422] He deceiues freely, with small discredit, and lesse shame; as some Phisitians that bee Noble-mens Panders: It is incident to the profession, and past finding out. Hee neede not wonder why the [...]owse should trouble his, more, then other Trades: for his gar­ments haue more seames then two or three sutes together. Or you may think it reason, that he should be bittē outwardly with Lice, because hee scornes to be bitten inwardly with Consci­ence. Little familiarity serues to make him (as likewise all clownish Trades-men) your ae­quall, without the Heralds pitty. Tearing off his apparell, is the least wrong you can offer him: for hee hath his mends in his own hand. He can shew nothing to proue himselfe worth the name of Man; but his denomi­nation [Page 423] of a Taylors man: Which argues most against him; and proues him to bee a Cowards coward: For being a Seruant, hee must feare his Maister, who feares all men of spirit. A paire of sheeres and a pressing Iron, are his cheife goods and pur­chase. You may sooner make his thimble holde water, without stopping, then his fancy keepe one fashion. Breifly he consists of shreds and remnants; yet of­tentimes there goes but a paire of sheeres betwixt him and a Gentleman: For many Gentle­men consist of out-side, in which the Taylors man takes part.

CHARACT. XXVII. A Fidler

IS, when he playes well a de­light only for them who haue [Page 422] [...] [Page 423] [...] [Page 424] their hearing: but is, when he playes ill, a delight only for them who haue not their hea­ring; and is alwaies a trouble [...] Diogines calls a bad Mu [...]itiā the mo [...]nings Cocke; be­cause al that heare him, rise, & leaue him. I ae [...]t. lib. 6. [...]ol. 176. to himselfe, because he heares too much: his head is wider then his braine, by so much as a Car­riers boot is wider then his leg; much about halfe in halfe. Hee may best endure to fall groue­ling in a puddle: For it is part of his profession to be a scraper. He is like the Nomades, a wande­rer from his child-hood: there is no certainty of his abiding: he cannot be bound prentise; for iourny-man-like hee trauailes from place to place, seeking to be set on worke before he hath learnt his trade. Being suddenly entertained without agreement, he is suddenly turnd out of dores, without giuing offence. He doth enquire out Gentle­mens [Page 425] names and lodgings as if he purposed to lye in waite for an arrest: and the truth proues little otherwise: For he doth arrest men by their ears though they haue beene in the Pillory. he hath his morning, his mid­day, and his euening deuotion: Wherein praying for others he findes his owne blessing. His company stand like the foremen of a Iury, to giue in their ver­dict; and he doth alwaies make two or three shillings be cast; or as much as you please to giue him. He is not worth a fiddle­sticke without nimble fingers; and they be the surest good qua­lity to make him suspected. Hope of imployment driues him vp to London: and he thinkes that an vnlucky day in terme, which is not a day of hearing. He bids God giue your worship good morrow, [Page 426] in the most dolefull and scuruy fashion; that his musicke may relish the better. A new song and a base-Viall makes him. He deceiues with his commodity worse then a Tobacco-man: For he will vtter Peg of Ramsey, and the Maske of Lincolnes Inne, both for one prise. It is not materiall how soundly, but how long he hath laid time asleepe: for that is indeed his faculty; to be a temporall inchanter. He is a de­fended night-walker: and vnder priuiledge of Musicke takes oc­casion to disquiet men, who had rather sleepe, then heare him. disquiet is not all the danger he brings with him: for he can send his little spirit of Musick vpon a ladder of Lute-strings, into your priuate chamber: and enforce you to picke your own pockets that he may depart contented. [Page 427] He disproues the rule in Lo­gicke; quod efficit tale magis est tale: The workman is more excel­cellent then his worke: for he hath wit enough to tune his Viall though his wits are alwaies vn­tunable. Fidlers may haue the same conceit, which Potentiae Romanoru prior [...] viam aper­uit, luxuriae posterior a­peruit: Paterculus lib. 2. Scipio had among the Romans: the former Scipio increasd Romes power: the last, Romes luxury: and Fidlers at first were instruments of the warres; but now of ryot. Hee lookes more to be commended by the companies ignorance then his good Musicke, & more by their bounty then by their ignorance. His braines are (like the Mackerell) a drie meate; and and therefore they must be but­terd with songs and ballads, or they bee worth nothing: the tunes warme his head, and keep it boyling: he doth apprehend [Page 428] tunes (as the Beadle appre­hends beggars) when they be vagrant: that they may worke together in the bridewell of his noddle, to maintaine them­selues and him. The tippets of his eare be noynted with an in­visible Oyle of custome; which serues to catch tunes as birdlime catches flyes; and, being taken, one catches another. He dares intrude by vertue of his profes [...]i on, not of his vocation: For hee comes without calling: but he will neither proue a delight nor trouble to any man against his will: and therefore he beginns thus; Will it please you to haue any Musicke? If that Musicke ra­ther please you, call for the Fiddler himselfe.

CHARACT. XXVIII. An Executioner

IS a husbandman; belonging to that great Lordship of the world a prison. Hee goes to cart commonly with vs, in these quarters; and sometimes to har­rowes with a hurdle. hee hath lawful reason to be lazy: for his haruest and seede time are at o­ther mens appointment: male­factors are his graine; which sowes it selfe in mischief; while hee sleepes and dreames of no such matter: the sherife his land­lord appointes the time of rea­ping: the ground about the gal­lowes is his garden plot: from whence he gathers. Hemp, Flax and woollen dressed ready to his hand. Vpon that fruitful bowgh the gallowes, he doth ingraft his medlars: when he gathers them [Page 430] he contents himselfe only with parings: for knowing that their inwards be good for nothing til they be rotten, hee buries them in the ground, that they may [...]i­pen & wax mellow: but he can­not looke to enioy them: for they be neuer fully ripe vntil the resurrection. The blood of [...]arles and Barons, are as a fruit­full rayne to him: for it beto­kens & begets his plenty. With saplesse worme-eaten trunkes of [...]ereticks, he makes a bonefire; to signifie Gods gratious deliue­rance of our king and kingdom, from the like danger: and when the peoples heads (like to the tops of trees) are ouer laden with sowre fruite, hee prunes their head▪ branches in the pillory. But when he pares away the top close to the trunke and body, it must be intended that the body [Page 431] and soule will flourish better within a while after. Vilaines turne hangmenn, as Serpents turne Dragons: a Serpens n [...]Serpen­tem com ederitnon fit Draco, serpent eats a serpent, before it is made a­Dragon: and a villaine hangs a villaine before he may be called Hangman. He doth obserue state in his action: for his place of presence is exceeding well han­ged. The taylor cannot cousen him: his wardtobe affords choyse of garments. He resem­bles the gouernment of a nota­ble tyrant▪ he lookes to the brin­ging vp of his fauourites, and helpes to their bringing downe: he hath many dependant follo­wers: for (as the prouerb saith) hangman leades the dance: but he behaues himselfe towardes them like a cruell master: for when they haue once shewed him a slippery trick, he puls their [Page 432] cloath ouer their eares, & turnes them out of seruice. Hee is one of the most dangerous ignorant people (except the Maior and Aldermen) that keepes about corporations: there is no dea­ling with him vnder the prise of a broken ioynt▪ you may well thinke his weapons are vnmercy­full; for his Hangers are a deadly torment. He can dispatch and Execute past amendment: but the meaning of aduise he knows no [...] for who can tell mee of a hang­man that giues counsell? he was neuer so much in loue with his trade as when the man preferd Tyburne before Burmuda: and I am halfe perswaded that if hee had but a balladmakers poetry, he would sooner make an Epi­taph for that freind to the gal­lowes, then any prince in Chri­stendom: till he turnes poet he [Page 433] may be thus furnished.

Here lies a wretch so louing to the rope,
He chose it rather then Ber­mudas hope:
I blush to thinke the fellow heere remaines,
He was soworthy to be hangd in Chaynes.

A Postscript.

THe presse hath, in stead of pressing faults to death, begotten many faults in spight of all my diligence: It shall be therefore the weakest part of thy iudgement (reader) to discerne the superfluity and defect of points, words, or let­ters. And for the few Latine quotations added in this last copie, it is left altogether to thy [Page 434] discretion, to thinke I meant to acknowledge euery part of al­lusions: And to distinguish this from the learning which lyes, in mother-tongue translations: But beware of trusting the mar­gents; for they bee shamefully corrupted by the printers neg­ligence. Turne ouer to the sixt impression of S. Thomas Ouer­buryes wife; and you may find the mad-Dogs foame specified in my title sheet.

FINIS.

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