The womens sharpe revenge: Or an answer to Sir Sel­dome Sober that writ those railing Pamphelets called the Iuniper and Crab­tree Lectures, &c.

Being a sound Reply and a full confutation of those Bookes: with an Apology in this case for the de­fence of us women.

Performed by Mary Tattle-well, and Ioane Hit-him-home, Spinsters.

Imprinted at London by I. O. and are to be sold by Ia. Becket at his shop in the inner Temple-gate. 1640.

The Epistle of the Female Frailty, to the Mal-Gender, in Generall.

Reader,

IF thou beest of the Masculine Sexe, we meane thee, and thee onely: and therefore greete thee with these attri­butes [Page] following: Af­fable, Loving, Kinde, and Courteous: Affable we call thee, because so apt (I will not say to prate but) to prat­tle with us: Loving, in regard that the least grace being from us granted, you not onely vow to love us, but are loath to leave us: Kinde, that you will not meete with us, without Congies, not part from us [Page] without Kisses: and Courteous, because so willing to bring your selves upon your Knees before us: more prone to bow unto Beauty, than to Baal; and to Idolatrize to us, rather than unto any other Idoll: and therefore our hope is, that what you use to protest in private, you will not now blush to professe in pub­licke: Otherwise in [Page] clearing our Cause, and vindicating our owne vertues wee shall not doubt to divulge you, for the onely dissemblers.

And in this case we appeale unto your owne Consciences, e­ven to the most crab­bed and censorious, the most sowre and supercilious, which of you all hath not solicited our Sexe? petitioned to our [Page] persons? praised our perfections? &c. wch of you hath not met us comming, follow­ed us flying, guarded us going, staid for us standing, waited on us walking and am­busht us lying? use VVomen to Court men? or have wee at any time complained of their Coynesse? Have we bribed them with our Bounties? Troubled them with [Page] our Tokens, Poetiz'd in their praises, prayd and protested, su'd and solicited, voted, and vowed to them? or rather they to us: would you apprehend a new Antipodes, to make al things to be carried by a contrary course, and run retrograde.

Then let the Rad­dish Roote plucke the Gardner up by the Heeles, and the shoul­der of Mutton put [Page] the Cooke upon the Spit: for you as well may prove the one, as produce the other.

Yet suffer you us to be reviled, and railed at, taunted & terrified, undervalu'd, and even vilified, when among you all wee cannot find one Champion to oppose so obstinate a Challenger, but that wee are compel­led to call a Ghost from her Grave, to [Page] stand up in the de­fence of so proud a defiance. Since then you will not be Com­batants for us in so iust a cause, wee in­treat you to become competent Iudges, to censure indifferent­ly betwixt the Accu­ser, and the Accused; to punish his petu­lancy, and not to fa­vour us, if wee bee found the sole faulty.

So, if you shall give [Page] our defamer his due, and that we gaine the Honour of the Day: If you be young men, we wish you modest Maides in marriage; if Batchellours, beau­tifull Mistresses; If Husbands, handsome wives, and good hus­wifes: If widdowers, wife, and wealthy widowes: if young, those that may de­light you; if old, such as may comfort you: [Page] and so we women be­queath unto you all our best wishes.

Mary Tattle-well. Joane Hit▪ him-home. Spinsters.

The Epistle to the Reader. Long Megge of Westmin­ster, hearing the abuse offered to Women, riseth out of her grave, and thus speaketh:

WHy raise you quiet soules out of the grave?
To trouble their long sleep? what peevish Knave
[Page]Hath wakned my dead ashes? and breath'd fire
Into colde embers? never to re­spire,
Till a new resurrection? so forc't now:
(Through innocent Womens cla­mours) that I vow,
Th'earth could not hold mee, but I was compeld
To look on what ('tis long since I be­held)
The Sun and Day; what have wee wo­men done,
That any one who was a mothers sonne
Should thus affront our sex? hath he forgot
From whence hee came? or doth hee seek to blot
[Page]His owne conception? Is hee not a­sham'd,
Within the list of Mankinde to bee nam'd?
Or is there in that Masculine sex an­other
(Saving this Monster) will disgrace his mother?
I Margery, and for my upright stature
Sirnam'd Long Megge: of well dis­posed nature,
And rather for mine honour, then least scorne
Titled from Westminster, because there borne.
And so Long Megge of Westmin­ster; to heare
Our fame so branded, could no way forbeare
[Page]But rather then disgest so great a wrong,
Must to my ashes give both life and tongue.
And then (poore Poet) whatsoere thou beest,
That in my now discovery, thy fault seest.
Confesse thine errour, fall upon thy knees,
From us, to begge thy pardon by de­grees.
Else, I that with my sword and buck­ler durst
Front swaggering Ruffians, put them to the worst.
Of whom, the begging souldier, when he saw
My angry brow, trembled, and stood in awe.
[Page]I that have frighted Fencers from the Stage,
(And was indeed, the wonder of mine Age)
For I have often, to abate their prides,
Cudgeld their coats, & lamm'd their legs and sides.
Crosse mee no Tapster durst at any rate,
Lest I should break his Jugs about his pate.
'Tis knowne the service that I did at Bulloigne,
Beating their French armes close un­to their woollein:
They can report, that with my blows and knocks
I made their bones ake, worse then did the Pocks.
[Page]Of which King Henry did take notice then,
And said; amongst my brave and valiant men,
I know not one more resolute, or bolder,
And would have laid his sword upon my shoulder,
But that I was a woman: And shall I
Who durst so proud an Enemy defie?
So fam'd in field, so noted in the Frenches,
A president to all our Brittish Wen­ches,
Feare to affront him; or his soule to vexe,
Who dares in any termes, thus taunt our sex?
Therefore relent thine errour I advise thee
[Page]Else in what shape soere thou shalt dis­guise thee,
I shall inquire thee out: nay, if thou should
Take on thee all those figures Proteus could,
It were in vaine: nay, (which the more may daunt thee)
Even to the grave; I vow my ghost shall haunt thee.
Therefore, what's yet amisse, strive to amend,
Thou knowest thy doom, if farther thou offend.

The Table, and Heads of this Booke.

  • THe Introduction. p. 1
  • The Title which we women doe bestow upon our godson, the Author of those Lectures. p. 3
  • The Names of those Bookes which we women do answer and obiect against. p. 4
  • First opinion of the [...]ury of women at their first meeting. p. 11
  • The Names of those Women which are chosen for the Jury. p. 12
  • Their opinion of what trade the Author is, or was. p. 14
  • First they finde him no Schollar: and they prove him to be none. p. 16
  • Wherein his failing is. p. 17
  • He is quite out in all the Cases. p. 18
  • First, in the Nomnative, Secondly, in the Ge­native, and so in all the rest of the Cases. p. 20
  • He is no Poet. p. 21
  • He is found guilty of detraction. p. 27

The womens sharpe Revenge: OR, An Answer to Sir Sel­dome Sober, that writ those scandelous Pamphlets, called the Iuniper and Crab-tree Lectures.

AS from several cau­ses proceed sun­dry effects,The In­troduction▪ so from several actions arise sundry [Page 2] honours with the addition of Names and Titles an­nexed unto them: neither need wee stand to prove that by argument, which wee finde by dayly experi­ence. As for example, some are raised for their wealth, others for their worth; some by the Law, others by their learning: Some by Martiall Disci­pline; and (by your favour too) others for malicious detraction, as thinking to rise by others ruines, and by supplanting others, to support themselves. In which number wee must ranke you Master Satyrist, [Page 3] the passionate Author of those most pittiful pam­phlets called the Juniper Lectures, and Crab-tree Le­ctures; who by your meere Knavery, ambitious to purchase Knight-hood, & to adde a sir-reverence to your name,A Title Which we women bestow up­on our Godson, the Au­thor of those Le­ctures. are now arri­ved to the height of your Aime, and from plaine Seldome Sober, are now come to the Title of Sir Seldome Sober, who wee terme so, for he is ashamed to set his name to bookes; a Name fitting his Na­ture, and well complying with his condition.

And as there have beene [Page 4] formerly, by your meanes, Sir Seldome Sober, many railing, bitter, invective Pasquills, and Scurrilous Libels, some written, some printed, and all disperst and scattered abroad, all of them made and forg'd on purpose to callumniate, revile, despight, jeere, and flout women: and now lately one or two of the sonnes of Ignorance have pen'd three severall,The Juni­per Crab-tree, and Worme-wood Le­ctures. sweet, filthy, fine ill-favoured Pamphlets, which are Printed, and (out of the most deepe shallownesse of the Authors aboundant want of Wisedome) they [Page 5] are called Lectures, And a new Lecture called the Bolster Lecture. as the Juniper Lecture, the Crab-tree Lecture, & the Worm-wood Lecture, wherein they have laid most false asper­sions upon all women ge­nerally: some they have taxed with incontinency, some with uncivility, some with scolding, some with drinking, some with back­biting and slandering their neighbours, some with a continual delight in lying, some with an extraordina­ry desire of perpetuall gos­sipping: in a word, we are each of us accused and bla­zed to bee addicted and and frequently delighted [Page 6] with one grievous enor­mity or other, wherein, al­though it be true, that we are all the daughters of Eve in frailty, yet they might have remembred that they likewise are all the sons of Adam, in failing, falling, & offending. We are not so partial in the defence of all Womens vertues, that we thereby doe hold none to be vicious. Some are in­continent by Nature (or inheritance) from their Mothers; some through extreame want and pover­ty have beene forced to make more bold with that which is their owne, [Page 7] then to begge, steale, or borrow from others: Some (by the harsh usage of their too unkinde hus­bands) have beene driven to their shifts hardly; some having had the hard for­tune to match with such Coxecombes, as were jea­lous without a cause, have by their suspitious, dog­ged, and crabbed dealing towards their wives, given too often, and too much cause to make their jealou­sie true. And whereas a Womans reputation is so poore, that if it be but so much as suspected, it will belong before the suspiti­on [Page 8] will be cleared: but if it be once blemished or tainted, the staines and spots are of such a tincture, that the dye of the blemi­shes will sticke to her all her life time, and to her Children after her. But for the man hee takes or assumes to himselfe such a loose liberty, or liberty of licentious loosenesse, that though he be (as they call it) a Common Towne. Bull, or a runner at sheepe though hee passe the cen­sures of spirituall courses, or high Commissions, yet (by custome) his disgrace will be quickly worne out, [Page 9] and say it was but a tricke of youth:Nay ra­ther a whore­munger. for the shame or scandall of a whore­master is like a nine dayes wonder, or a Record written in sand, or like a suit of Tiffany, or Cob­web Lawne, soone worne out: but the faults of a weake Woman, are a con­tinuall alarum against her, they are ingraven in brasse, and like a suit of Buffe, it may be turn'd, and scour'd and scrapt, and made a little cleanly, but it lasts the whole life time of the wearer. But to come to the worke in hand, as you you have a Title bestowed [Page 10] upon you by your backe friends, and we thinke deservedly.

So wee have knowne some, who have arrived to that Worshipfull Title through favour also, ra­ther than desert, and more by voyces than their ver­tues, meerely by the mad sufrage of the many headed monster Multitude, which consisteth of Man: yet upon better advice, and more Mature Consideration, when their merits and misdemeanours have been more narrowly sifted, and looked into (being well compared together) they [Page 11] have not onely beene dis­grac'd, but degraded: so that now that worshipfull worke for which you have beene so much magnified by the Masculines, being now called into question by a Feminine Jury of wo­men.The first o­pinion of the Iury of women. It is thought after a true and just examination thereof to bee meerely villified, and that it is no­thing but a meere scanda­lous report, and therefore most justly condemned by the unanimous assent of all our Sexe; before whom, your Bartholmew Faire Booke, and most lying Lectures, hath not onely [Page 12] beene convented, but ar­raigned, lawfully convict­ed, and most justly con­demned.

Now because no equall and indifferent censure shall any way justly except at the Iury that went upon the cause: they were these. Twelve good wo­men and true which will give you in order.

The 12 women which are chosen for the Iury.The fore-woman, who had the first and prime voyce, who gave up the Verdict, was Sisley set him out, Sarah set on his skirts, Kate call him to account, Tomasin Tickle him, Pru­dence pinch him, Franke firk [Page 13] him, Besse bind him, Chri­stian Commit him, Parnel punish him, Mall make him yeeld, Beterish banish him, Hellen Hang him.

Now if this be not a competent Iury, not to bee excepted at, and a legall Triall, no way to be revo­ked, we appeale unto you men, our greatest adversa­ries, and most violent a­baters of our injuries.

And yet further to make the cause more plaine and evident of our sides, wee thought it good in our better consideration, not onely to publish unto the world, the calumnies and [Page 14] slanders asperst upon us: But our just Articles ob­jected against him, and by comparing them toge­ther, to distinguish so be­twixt them, that the truth may grow apparent.

Their opi­nion of what pro­fession the Author was.But first touching the person who put these foule and and calumnious aspersions upon us: If hee were a Tailer, most sure he was a womans Tailer, or (if so) no good Artist, be­cause not being able to take the measure of a wo­mans body, much lesse was he powerfull to make a true dimension of her minde, (and therein you [Page 15] are gone Master Tayler) nay, what Artist soever you were, (for in one I include all) most of you have Wives and Children, and love them, and are in­dulgent over them, and wherefore then doe you incourage such invectives against us? If you beeing of your selves lewd, we be loving: wee well tutord, you untoward: we fami­liar you froward: we doa­ting, and you dogged: and what wee get by spinning in the day, you spend in the night, and come ree­ling from the Taverne or the Alehouse: Is the fault [Page 16] ours? or are wee worthy any to bee blamed for this?

First they find him no schol­lar.Next in our Curious Inquisition and search, we finde him moreover to be no Schollar at all, as nei­ther understanding us in our Gender, Number, nor Case, &c.

They prove him to be noneNot in one Gender, for in all the Creatures that were ever made, there is a mutuall love, and an alternate affection betwixt the Male and the Female: for otherwise there would be no Generation at all. But this most approved consociety▪ by all his in­dustry [Page 17] and endeavour hee striveth to annihilate, and disanull, forget­ting that even hee him­selfe by the same Unity and Unanimity, had his first originall and be­ing.

Then he faileth in Num­ber,Wherein his failing is. by making all of us in generall, not onely to bee wayward, but wicked, te­dious, but troublesome, lazy, but loathsome, with many of the like enormi­ties: and indeed we know not what his inveterate malice or madnes would stretch unto: when, if perchance there may bee [Page 18] found a singular Number of such delinquents, yet there may bee a plurall, (and that stretcheth be­yond all limit and ac­count) who never trans­grest; or fell into those grosse errours, of which he so Satyrically accuseth our Sexe.

He is quite out in all the CasesBut in our Cases hee is most horrible out, and di­rectly opposeth all the Rules of Grammer. For instance.

First, in the Nom­native.In the Nomnative, by calling us out of our Names, and in the stead of Maidenly Modest, Ma­tron-like, &c. to brand [Page 19] us with the Characters of scoulds, vixens, praters, pratlers, and all the abu­sive Epithites that spleene or malice can invent, or devise.

In the Genetive,Second, in the Gene­tive. by ma­king us to be loose, lasci­vious, wanton, wilfull, inconstant, incontinent, and the Mothers of mis­begotten Children, by which hee unadvisedly bringeth himselfe within the doubtfull suspition of spuriousnesse and Bastar­dy.

In the Dative,Third, in the Dative by giving and conferring upon our geneneral Sex, such strange [Page 20] and almost unheard of as­pertions: which as we have little desir'd, so we never deserv'd, forgetting that he includeth his Mother, Sisters, & Nieces, Daugh­ters; nay, his own bosome wife, (if hee have any in the same Catalogue.)

Fourth, in the Accu­sative.In the Accusative, by false calumnies, and injust Accusation contrary to all Schollar-ship: as igno­rant, that Foemineo generi tribuuntur— Propria quae maribus.

Fifth, in the Vocative.In the Vocative, be­cause it is like to the nom­native.

Sixt, in the Ablative.In the Ablative, be­cause [Page 21] he striveth to take a­way our credits, reputati­ons, Fame, good Name, &c. All which argue, and approve, that hee was in a bad Moode, and worse Tence at the Writing of those malicious Le­ctures.

A Poet sure hee could not be:He is no Poet. for not one of them but with all his in­dustry strived to celebrate the praises of some Mi­stris or other: as for exam­ple, Amongst the Greekes, Arisophanes, Meander, &c. Amongst the Ro­mans, Catullus his Les­bir, Gallus his Licoris, [Page 22] and Ovid his Corina. A­mongst the Spaniards, George de Monte major his Diana; and Aulius March his Tyresa. Amongst the Italians, Petroch his Laura, &c. And of our owne Nation, Learned Master Spencer his Rosalinde, and Sam. Daniel his Delia, &c.

They make the case plain.Now to make the case more plaine and evident of our sides, wee have thought it good to pub­lish unto the World those matters of which hee was arraigned, and now justly convicted. The first was scoffing and taunting at [Page 23] our Sexe in generall: now who knowes not, but that Quips and Scoffes are no­thing else but the depra­ving of the Actions of o­thers, the overflowing of wits, and the superfluous scummes of conceite, and for the most partt, asking others of those errours of which themselves stand most guilty; and hee that playeth the scoffing foole best, though it may bee in him a signe of some wit, yet it is an argument of no wisedome at all. Adders keep their venome in their Tayles, but the poyson of a Buffoone lyeth in his [Page 24] tongue, and faults wilful­ly committed by mocking cannot be satisfied, or re­compensed by repentance. But better it is for a man to be borrne to bee borne foolish,Better for a man to be borne foolish, then to imploy his wits un­wisely. than to imploy his wit unwisely; for moc­kery is nothing else, but an Artificiall injury, and wee finde by proofe, that there be more mockers, than well meaners; and more that delight in foolish pra­ting, then that practice themselves in wholesome precepts; we must confesse that to jest is tollerable, but to doe harme by je­sting, is insufferable; for [Page 25] it is too late to prevent ill, after ill committed, or to amend wrong after in­jury received. Many things that are sweete in the Mouth, may prove bitter in the stomacke and scoffes pleasant to the eare, may be harsh to the better understanding. But whosoever shal undertake in his curiosity of Wit, to deride an innocent, either with flattery or foolery, shall but delude himselfe in his owne insufficiency and folly: for as the fai­rest Beauty may prove faulty, so even the wittiest scoffe may prove ridicu­lous: [Page 26] And nothstanding all those Fooles bolts, so fondly aimed, and so sud­denly shot, we have this Sentence from one of the Wise men, to comfort us, that losse which is sustai­ned with modesty, is much better than the gaine purchased by impu­dence. Nay, to bee ac­counted a Princes Jester, is to be esteemed no better than a meere mercinary Foole. And this Railer being in a lower ranke, as having dependance upon none but his owne defa­matory Pen, what Epi­thite had enough may we [Page 27] devise to conferre upon him; but we remember thus much, since wee first read our Accidence.

Quae vult, quae non vult audiet,

Thus Englished.

He that to speake will not forbeare,
More (then he would have spoke) shall heare.

The second thing of which he standeth convi­cted,The se­cond thing he stands convicted of is De­traction. is detraction and slander, which is the super­fluity of a cankered heart, overcome with Choler, [Page 28] and wanting meanes and opportunity of desired re­venge, growes into scan­dalous and reproachfull speeches. The Testates of Hate and Malice, whose condition is to call Inno­cence into question, thogh not able to prove ought a­gainst it: and such are worse to us than Vipers, for those when we spie we kill them; but these when we cherish they kill us. It is observ'd that the corrupt heart discovereth it selfe by the lewd tongue, and those that speake evill of Women, are held no bet­ter than Monsters amongst [Page 29] good men; but such for the most part, who seeke to bring others into ha­tred, have in processe of time growne odious e­ven to themselves: but such may be compared to him, which bloweth the powder that flusheth in­to his owne face, and troubleth his seeing: nay, such are said to murther three at once; first, him­selfe, next, him that gives eare to his scandals and re­ports them after him; and lastly, him whose good name hee seeketh to take away; not considering, that Nature hath bestow­ed [Page 30] upon us two eares, and two eyes, yet but one tongue; which is an Em­bleme unto us, that though we heare and see much, yet ought wee to speake but little: They that can keepe their Tongues keepe their friends; for few words cover much Wisedome, and even fooles being si­lent have past for wise men. But the Proverbe is, that even those that but listen, or give en­couragement to scandall, or mis-report, deserve to lose their hearing, if not their eares.

[Page 31]And therefore, gentle Reader, beleeve not every smooth Tale that is told, neither give too much credit to the Plaintiffe before you heare the De­fendant Apology for him­selfe, lest through light trust thou bee deceived, and by thy too easie be­liefe, manifestly deluded.

But it is the fashion of all these calumniating Coxecombes, to bite those by the backe, whom they know not how to catch by the bellies.

The third thing object­ed, and proved upon him,A third thing ob­jected and proved a­gainst him. is palpable lying; against [Page 32] which, the Aegyptians made a Law, that who so used it should not live. The like did the Scithi­ans, the Garamants, the Persians, and the Indians. Now how much hee hath belyed the worthinesse of our Sexe, I appeale to a­ny understanding Rea­der, who hath purused his Bookes, if hee have not branded us with many a false and palpable un­truth, as shall bee made more apparent hereafter, when we come to the en­rowling of his Books, and anatomizing his Lectures. But it is an old said Saw, [Page 33] and a true: We cannot better reward a Lyer, then in not believing any thing that he speaketh: so odi­ous is the very name, that in the opinion of many, a Thiefe may be preferred before him: for it is his property to take upon him the habite and coun­tenance of Honesty, that he may the more secretly insinuate, and more sub­tilly deceive by his Kna­very.

He was indited also of Heresie, and false opinion,They in­dite him of Heresie which hath power to make men arme them­selves one against ano­ther, [Page 34] and all of them a­gainst us. It is borne of Winde, and fed by imagi­nation, never judging rightly of any thing as it is indeed, but as it seemes to bee, making what is probable improvable; and impossibilities, possibili­ties: nay, it is of such force, that it overthroweth the love betwixt man and wife, Father and Child, Friend and Friend, Ma­ster and Servant: nay more, it is as the Spring and Fountaine of sediti­on; and who knowes not but all sedition is evill, how honest soever the [Page 35] ground be pretended.

And last of perjury,They prove him perjur'd. in making breach of that oath which he made when he was first marryed: for in the stead of taking his Wife to have and to hold, for better and worse: with my body I the wor­ship, with all my wordly goods I thee endow, &c. hee hath runne a course cleane contrary to all this, in taunting and scoffing, baiting and abusing, ray­ling and reviling at all our Sexe in generall, from which number even his wife to whom hee vowed all the former, and [Page 36] who nightly sleepeth, or ought to sleepe in his bo­some, is not excluded: or say that she was of a per­verse and turbulent spirit, a crabbed or curst condi­tion, or a dissolute and di­vellish disposition. Say that she was given to gad­ding and gossipping, to revelling or royoting (so that hee might very well sing, I cannot keepe my Wife at home) or say that, not without just cause, she might make him jealous: what is this to the genera­lity of the Female Gen­der? one Swallow makes not a Summer: nor for [Page 37] the delinquency of one, are all to be delivered up to censure? As there was a Lais, so there was a Lu­crece: And a wise Cornelia, as there was a wanton Co­rina: And the same Sexe that hath bred Malefa­ctors, hath brought forth Martyrs.

An this is an argument which we might amplifie even from the Originall of all History; nay,Strong ar­guments. and would not spare to doe it, had wee but the benefit of your breeding.

But it hath beene the policy of all parents, even the beginning, to [Page 38] curbe us of that benefit, by striving to keep us un­der, and to makes us mens meere Vassailes even unto all posterity. How else comes it to passe, that when a Father hath a nu­merous issue of Sonnes and Daughters, the sonnes forsooth they must bee first put to the Grammar schoole, and after per­chance sent to the Univer­sity, and trained up in the Liberall Arts and Scien­ces, and there (if they prove not Block-heads) they may in time be book-learned: And what doe they then? read the [Page 39] Poets perhaps, out of which, if they can picke out any thing maliciously devised, or malignantly divulged by some mad Muse, discontented with his coy or disdainfull Mi­stris; then in imitation of them, he must divise some passionate Elogy, and pit­tifull ay-me: and in the stead of picking out the best Poets, who have stri­ved to right us, follow the other, who doe no­thing but raile at us, thin­king he hath done his Mi­stris praise, when it may bee hee hath no Mistris at all, but onely feignes to [Page 40] himselfe some counter­feit Phillis, or Amarillis; such as had never any person, but a meere ayery name: and against them hee must volly out his vaine Enthusiasmes, and Raptures, to the disgrace and prejudice of our whole Sexe.

The rea­son why women are not so learned as men.When we, whom they stile by the name of wea­ker Vessells, though of a more delicate, fine, soft, and more plyant flesh, and therefore of a temper most capable of the best Impression, have not that generous and liberall E­ducations, lest we should [Page 41] bee made able to vindi­cate our owne injuries, we are set onely to the Needle, to pricke our fingers: or else to the Wheele to spinne a faire thread for our owne un­doings, or perchance to some more durty and de­boyst drudgery: If wee be taught to read, they then confine us within the compasse of our Mothers Tongue, and that limit wee are not suffered to passe; or if (which some­times happeneth) wee be brought up to Musick, to singing, and to dan­cing, it is not for any [Page 42] benefit that thereby wee can ingrosse unto our selves, but for their own particular ends, the better to please and content their licentious appetites, when we come to our maturity and ripenesse: and thus if we be weake by Nature, they strive to makes us more weake by our Nur­ture. And if in degree of place low, they strive by their policy to keepe us more under.

Now to shew wee are no such despised matter as you would seeme to make us, come to our first Crea­tion, when man was made [Page 43] of the meere dust of the earth, the woman had her being from the best part of his body, the Rib next to his heart: which diffe­rence even in our comple­xions may bee easily deci­ded. Man is of a dull, ear­thy, and melancholy as­pect, having fallowoes in in his face, and a very for­rest upon his Chin, when our soft and smooth Cheekes are a true repre­sentation of a delectable garden of intermixed Ro­ses and Lillies.

We grant it for a truth,In what the Wo­men agree to. that as there is no sword made of steele, but it hath [Page 44] Iron: no fire made of the sweetest Wood, but it hath Smoake: Nor any Wine made of the choy­sest Grapes, but it hath Lees: So there is no Woman made of flesh, but she hath some faults. And I pray you are there any men, who are not subject to the like frail­ties.

Aspertions laid upon Women.Others have said that Closets of Womens thoughts are alwayes o­pen; and the depth of their hearts hath a string that reacheth to their Tongues: and say this be granted, may wee not [Page 45] also say of mens breasts that lye unvaild to enter­taine all vices: and what­soever they cannot suffi­ciently twatle with their Tongues, they cannot contain themselves there, but the must publish it with their Pennes: (one of the grand faults of which our arch Adversary at this present standeth convicted.)

I have heard from the mouth of the learned,Women the true glory of Angels. that a faire, beautifull, & chaste woman was the perfect I­mage of her Creator, the true glory of Angels, the rare myracle of Earth, [Page 26] and the sole wonder of the World:Women are the best Crea­tures on earth. and moreouer that the man who is mar­ried to a peaceable and vertuous wife, being on earth hath attained Hea­ven, being in want hath arrived to wealth, being in woe is possest of weale, and being in care enjoyeth comfort; but contrarily of man, who ever gave such a Noble Character?

But I will not incist too long upon this argument, though it might be strong there by the authority both of President and Hi­story, least we might bee Critically taxed of selfe-love [Page 47] and flattery. And yet that wee may make a safe fortification and Bul­warke against our Adver­saries so violent assault and Battery, give us leave to proceed a little further.

If wee bee so contemp­tible growne either in Quality and Condition,What brave men have writ in womens praise. in Conversation or De­portment, in Name, or Nature, how comes it that so many elaborate Pennes have beene im­ployed in our prayse, and there have beene such witty Encomiums Writ in our Commendation? such as have sweld Vo­lumes, [Page 48] and enricheth Li­beraries. What Oades, Hymnes, Love-songs, and Laudatories, in all kinde of sweete measure and number have not beene by Poets devised to ex­toll the beauties and ver­tues of their Mistrisses? What power have they not cald upon? and what Muse not invoakt, that they might give them their full meed & merit? by which only, divers have attained to the honour of the Lawrell, amongst all Nations, Tongues, and Language in all Fre­quency from Antiquity. [Page 49] Were it a thing new or rare, or of late birth, it perhaps might be cald in­to some suspition and question: but carrying with it the reverence of Age, Antiquity, and Cu­stome, what can we hold him but some novice in knowledge, and childe in understanding, that shall presume or dare any kinde of way to contradict it.

But there are many ma­levolent and ill disposed persons, who having by all crafty and subtle Traines insidiated the chastities as well of maids as Matrons, making no [Page 50] distinction betwixt wives and Matrons, who being disappoynted in their ill purpose, by the vertues of of those good Women, whom they thought to vitiate, have presently growne into such a passio­nate Fury, and melancholy madnesse, that having no other meanes to revenge themselves, they have stu­died how by their tongues to trouble them, or by their penns traduce them: And so, whose bodies they could not compasse, their good Names they would corrupt, and of such, this Age affords too many, [Page 51] which (alas the while) makes a great sort of us much to suffer in our re­putations: but wee againe comfort our selves with this poore Cordiall, That of sufferance commeth ease: and though truth may be blamed, yet can never be shamed.

Others there are,Other ex­amples. who of their ill fortune hath beene to light upon a bad match, a Shrow, a Wan­ton, or the like, (as there are of all sorts in all sexes) they set downe their rest there, and seeke no far­ther, but measure all o­ther mens Corne by their [Page 52] owne bushell, as thinking none can bee rich because he himselfe is a Banque­rupt; which is just as if a man that by chance shall cut his finger, should ever after refuse the use of a knife; or having scorcht his hand, sweare never to warme him at the fire, or having bin pincht with a straight shooe, now all his life time to goe bare­foot.

If women be so bad, why doe men prof­fer their service & love to them.Further, if wee were such toyes and trifles, or so vile and vitious, as our adversarie striveth to make the world beleeve we are; how comes this [Page 53] seeking, this suing; this Courting, this cogging; this prating, this protest­ing; this vowing, this swearing, but onely to compasse a smile, a kind looke; a favour, or a good word from one of us? can any be so simple to seeke his affliction? or so sottish to sue for his owne ruine? what foole would trouble himselfe to find his owne torment? or what Coxe­combe pursue his owne confusion? Is he not worse then franticke, that desires his owne fall? and more than a mad man that hun­teth after his owne misery? [Page 54] Then by consequence, if wee be apish and waggish, wilfull and wanton; such cares, such burdens, such troubles, such torments, such vexation, such Ser­pents, such Syrens, or such may-games, or rather monsters as you would make of us:If men see such dan­gers in women, why doe they not let them alone. why cannot you let us alone, and leave us to our owne weakenes and imperfections? if then see­ing such palpable danger before your eyes, and you wilfully run into it; if you see Hell gates open, and you violently enter them: are you not more simple than babes and Children? [Page 55] nay than Fooles, Cocks­combes, Frantickes and mad men; Epithites attri­butes not without your owne gilt, most justly and deservedly throwne upon you.

And much good may they doe you, I pray you weare them for our sakes as the best favours you have merited from us; whilst wee in the interim strive to vindicate our Sexe from all vainely sup­posed, but voluntary sug­gested calumnies.

Wee have heard of a Gun-pouder Treason plot­ted by men, but never [Page 56] heard since the beginning of the world such a dive­lish & damned Stratagem devised by women;Women were ne­ver Actors of Gun-powder Treasons. and yet you are the Masculine milke-sops that dare doe nothing, and we the Femi­nine undertakers, that dare to enterprize all things. Can you reade of any female gilty of the like inhumane acts? or was any one of our Sexe ever nominated to bee consci­ous of trayterous conspi­racy against their King and Country?Women have no hand in any Con­spiracy. nay rather, wo­men have bin sorry, that through the lusts and im­portunity of men, they [Page 57] have bin forced to bee the mothers of such monsters: and therefore Sir Seldome Sober, it may bee presup­pos'd, that when you writ this bitter invective, you were either in your holy­day and hic-up healths, in your bouzing Cups, and bouncing Cans; and had got a politicke pot in your pate, or you were else in your deadly dumps and drowsie dreames, which were so violent at that time upon you, that they made you destitute of knowledge, and quite voyd of understanding.

It is further knowne, [Page 58] that when men out of their vaine ambitious foo­leries have commenced Warre one against the o­ther,Women never re­belled, or cōmenced Suites of Law against the King. when a City hath bin besieged, and the faint-hearted men have bin rea­dy to give it up to spoile and ransacke: The women have stood up, man'd and maintained the walls, and stopt and defended the Breaches,What brave acti­ons womē have per­formed from time to time. whilst your brave male Martialists have bin ready to beray their breeches; beate the enemy out of their Tren­ches, sav'd their selves from prostitution, their City from desolation, and [Page 59] their Husbands and Chil­dren from captivity and bondage.

Nay more, it is authen­tically recorded, that when two Provinces of Greece fought together, and the one party fled and gave way to the Enemy: The wives & mothers of these which were distressed stop­ped them in their flight, and shewing themselves naked above the navell, cald unto them and rated them for their Cowardise, demanding of them whe­ther they went to cover themselves, in the places from whence they first [Page 60] came, and were first conceived, and to be buri­ed where they were borne; at which sight they were so abashed and ashamed, that they tooke fresh cou­rage; and turning their faces from them upon the enemy, they gained there­by a great and glorious victory.

The rea­sons why women are accused for lying.Some doe accuse us to be much given to lying; in­deed I must confesse it to be a fault in the most of the best Wives: yet I would have our detractor to know that every excuse is not a lye, or if it bee, then are most Husbands [Page 61] beholding to their Wives for excusing them too of­ten in lying to save their credits: for alas (poore wretches) we are faine to hide and cover their faults and imperfections with our poore excuses, as for example; if one of them be crewell, crabbed, and cur­rish, that hee will snap, snarle, and bite with his dogged language and con­ditions, then the poore woman (like a foole) re­ports him to be a kind, lo­ving, and affectionate hus­band, ergo she lyes; ano­ther knowes her Husband to bee a wicked Whore­hunter, [Page 62] and that he doth (in a manner) keepe a Trull or two under her nose; yet shee will say her Husband is a very honest man: ergo she lyes too. A third spends most of his time in drinking or game­ing, and his poore wife is so kind, as to acknow­ledge him for a good painefull, sober, and civill Husband, and I am sure she lyes abhominable. I could insist further into such particulars, but these are sufficient to shew that the most part of women being lyers, is onely out of their goodnesse to cover [Page 63] the faults and abuses of wicked men.

Whereas they taxe us of incivillity,No wo­man so full of in­ormities as men are. I would have any indifferent man or woman to take notice, that it is a very hard win­ter when one Wolfe doth eate another, or when the Kill doth upbraid the O­ven for being burnt; for though we doe not brag, or prate, (like the boast­ing vaine-glorious Phari­see) that wee are not like other folks in conditions, or (in a word not worthy to compare with men for their unknowne invisible good parts and qualities) [Page 64] yet surely, we neither can, or doe run head-long into such impious inormities; with such uncontroulable violence as they doe: as if they were Created for no other use or purpose, then to sweare, blaspheme, quarrell, be drunke, game, Rore, Whore, murder, steale, cheat; & in briefe, to be daily practisers and Proficients in the most liberall seven deadly Sins: and these are the excellent civill behaviours of those man-like monsters that doe taxe women generally with incivillity.

If women be proud (or [Page 65] adicted to pride) it is ten to one to be laid,If we wo­men bee adicted to pride, it is long of you men. that it is the men that makes them so; for like inchaunters, they doe never leave or cease to bewitch & charme poore women with their flatteries, perswading us that our beauty is incom­perable, our complexion of white and red, like Strabe­ries and Creame; our cheekes like damaske Ro­ses covered with a veile of Lawne, our lips are Corall, our teeth Ivory, our haires Gold, our eyes Chrystall, or Sunns, or Load-stars, or Loves Darts: our glan­ces Launces, our voyces, [Page 66] our breathes perfum'd Musicke, our vertues Im­mortall, and our whole frame, feature, and com­posure Celestiall.

When I was a young maid of the age of fifteene, there came to mee in the wooing way, very many of those Fly-blowne Puf-past Suitors: amongst the rest, one of them was as brave a Gentleman, as any Tayler could make him: he under-went the noble Title af a Captaine, & if I had made triall of him, I doubt not but I might have found him a most des­perate Chamber Champion, for he did scent of the Musk-Cat [Page 97] instead of the Musket, he was an Ambergreace gallant, that once was a va­liant Tilting Rush-breaker at the married of the Lady Iosinqua, daughter to the Duke of Calabria, verily he was a dainty purfum'd car­pet Captaine, a powdred Po­tentate, a painted Periwig frizled, frounced, Geome­tricall curious Glas-gazer, a comb'd, curl'd and curried Commander, a resolute pro­fest Chacer or hunter of fashions, and a most stiffe, printed, bristled, beard-starcher.

This Captaine Comple­ment, with his Page Im­plement, [Page 68] laid hard Siege to the weake Fortresse of my fraile Carkasse, hee would sweare that his life or death were ei­ther in my accepting or re­jecting his suite, he would lye and flatter in prose, & cogge and foyst in verse most shamefully; he would sometimes salute me with most delicious Sentences, which he alwayes kept in sirrup, and hee never came to me empty mouth'd or handed; for hee was never unprovided of stew'd An­nagrams, bak'd Epigrams, sows'd Madrigalls, pickled Round delayes, broyld [Page 69] Sonnets, pa [...]boild Elegies, perfum'd poesies for Rings, and a thousand other such foolish flatteries, and kna­vish devices which I sus­pected, and the more hee striv'd to over-come mee, or win mee with Oathes, promises & protestations, still the lesse I beleev'd him; so that at last hee grew faint at the Siege, gave over to make any more Assaults, and van­quish'd with despaire made a finall Retreat. In like manner I wish all wo­men and maids in generall, to beware of their guilded Glosses; an enamoured [Page 80] Toade lurkes under the sweet grasse, and a faire tongue hath bin too often the varnish or Embrodery of a false heart; what are they but lime-twiggs of Lust, and Schoole-masters of Folly? let not their foolish fancy prove to bee your braine-sicke frenzy; for if you note them, in all their speech or writings, you shall seldome or never have any word or sillable in the praise of goodnesse, or true vertue to come from them; their talke shall consist either of wealth, strength, wit, beau­ty, lands, fashions, Horses, [Page 81] Hawkes, Hounds, and many other triviall and transitory toyes, which as they may be used are bles­sings of the left Hand, wherewith they are entice and intrap poore silly yong tender-hearted Females to be enamoured of their good parts (if they had any) but if men would lay by their trickes, slights, false-hoods and dissimula­tions▪ and (contrarily) in their conversing with us, use their tongues and pens in the praise of meekenes, modesty, chastity, tempo­rance, constancy, and pie­ty; then surely women [Page 72] would strive to be such as their discourses did tend unto: for wee doe live in such an age of pollution, that many a rich wicked man will spend willingly, and give more to corrupt and make spoyle of the chastity, and honour of one beautifull untainted Virgin, than they will be­stow (in charity) towards the saving of an hundred poore people, from peri­shing by famine here, or from perdition in a worser place: and because they say women will alwaies lye, I doe wish that (in this last point I touch'd [Page 73] upon) they would make or prove me a lyer.

Who but men have bin the Authors of all mis­chiefes? had that firebrand of Troy (Paris) not stolne Hellen from her Husband King Menelaus, surely she had remained a wife in Sparta, and never beene strumpeted in Phrygia: the ten yeares Siege and sack­ing of Illion was never sought by women, but wrought by men: who but men are Traytors, Apo­states, Irreligious, Sectaries and Scismatiques? Alas, a­las; these are vessels of vices and villanies, which [Page 74] the weak hands or braines of women could never broach. Who but men are Extortioners, Usurers Oppressors, Theeves, per­jur'd persons, & Knights of the Post? who but men doe write, print, divulge and scatter Libells, Rimes, songs and Pasquills against the knowne Truth; against Soveraigne Authority, a­gainst all Law, equite, and Conformity to Loyalty? who but men have, and doe set forth pestifferous Pamphlets, Emblemes, and Pictures of Scurrillity and nasty obsceanesse? I am sure that Ovid, and Aretine [Page 75] were no women, nor was there ever any Woman found to be the Authoresse of such base and vile in­ventions.

In one of their late wise rediculous Lectures,An An­swer to the asper­sion cast upon wo­men for being Gossips. they doe cast an aspersion upon us that wee are mighty Gossips, and exceeding Scolds; to the first I An­swer, that the most part of our meetings at Gossip­pings are long of the men, rather then to be im­puted to us; for when children are borne into the world (although men feele none of the misery) yet women have a more knowne [Page 76] simpathy & feeling of one anothers paines & perills; & therefore in Christiani­ty and neighbourly love & Charity, women doe meet to visit and comfort the weakenes of such, as in those dangerous times doe want it; and whereas they say that wee tipple, and tittle-tattle more than our shares, I shall (before this discourse is ended) cast that Ball backe againe in their teeths, and emblaze them truely to bee most vaine and idle talkers; and that no living thing Crea­ted is so sottish, sencelesse, brutish and beastly, as most [Page 77] of them have bin, and are daily, nightly and hourely in their drinke: for their much talke (to no pur­pose) doth shew that there is a running issue, or Fistu­la in their minds.

Man might consider that women were not created to be their slaves or vassalls,Women are not borne to be mēns slaves. for as they had not their Originall out of his head, (thereby to com­mand him;) so it was not out of his foote to be trod upon, but in a (medium) out of his side to be his fel­lowfeeler, his equal & com­panion: but as the Divell can be (at one time) both [Page 78] the Prince of darknesse, and an Angell of Light; so can these double-hearted men beare fire in one hand and water in the other, so that one knowes not where to have them, nor how to find them; being neither hot or cold, but like Luke-warme Laodi­ceans: for many of them are like the Cinamond Tree, their Rinde better than the Trunke: they are (too many of them) rare Doctors of Divility, crafty Merchants, whose Wares are flatteries, congies, crin­ges, complements, leggs, faces, and mimmicke [Page 79] marmositicall Gestures, and are fitter by halfe for stamps to Coyne any cur­rant wickednesse then any women can be.

Every thing (but man) doth naturally encline to be in his proper place, Every rhing but man doth Naturally incline to his proper place. as for example: Lead, Stomes, or any ponderous or weighty matter or mettall will sinke downe, fire doth mount up­wards, Rivers run to the to the Sea, Trees to the Earth, and Fowles to the Aire: every thing doth seeke to bee in his naturall place constantly, onely men are inconstant, and seldome or never doth keepe his con­stant [Page 80] course. Nay the very Beasts and unreasonable Creatures are his Schoole-masters, and goe beyond him in goodnesse: Hee may learne meekenesse of the Lambe, simplicity of the Dove, dilligence of the Ants, kindnes of the Stork, memory of the Oxe and Asse, fidellity of the Dog, watch­fulnesse of the Cocke, subtilty of the Serpent, magnani­mity of the Lion: the Eagle (or Vulture) doth goe be­yond him in sight, or seeing; the Dog surpasseth him in the sence of smelling, Stags, Hares, and Birds doe out­goe him in swiftnesse, Hor­ses [Page 81] & Elephants in strength, and Crowes or Ravens in length of life: Besides every thing (except man) hath the wit to shun and avoyd danger, as Sheepe will run from the Wolfe, the Cat from the Dog, the Hare from the Hound, the Rat from the Cat, the Chicke from the Kite, and the Dove from the Hawke; but man will not avoyd wickednes, nor run from the Divell; he is also so voracious and in­satiate, that though a Parke will satisfie an Heard of Deere, a medow will suffice many Cowes and a Bull, a field will serve Horses, a [Page 82] Forrest will feed wild Beasts and Fowles, the Earth doth content Wormes and Ver­mine, the Sea containes Fi­shes: And man (onely man) is never contented; his in­gurgitating Maw is the Se­pulcher of Fishes, Fowles, Beasts, Hearbes, Fruites, Rootes, and all things else whatsoever that his Rapine can prey upon. Besides, hee hath in him the pride of the Horse, the Lions fiercenesse, the Wolves ravening, the Dogs biting more addicted to truculency then the Beare, more obstinate than the Oxe, more beastly rash than the Bore, more various [Page 83] than the Leopard, more mu­table than the Camelion, as deceitfull as the Foxe, as desperate as the Elephant, fearefull as a Hare, reveng­full as the Cammell, as lasci­vious as the Goate, as full of scoffing and jeering as an Apel, as uncleanly as a Sow, as silly as a Sheepe, and as foolish as an Asse. This Land hath rob'd and cheated al­most all other Nations of their vices, for we have got­ton Gluttony from Greece, Wantonnes from Italy, Pride from Spaine, Com­plement from France, Drunkennes from Germa­ny, Infidelity▪ from the [Page 84] Iewes,They [...]rove that [...]ngland [...]ath rob­ [...]ed all Nations [...]f their [...]ices. Blasphemy from the Turkes, Idolatry from the Indians, Superstition from Rome, Sects from Amster­dam, Errors from all pla­ces, makes Scismes & Diui­sions at home. And these are the rare vertues, and admi­rable quallities of the most part of such men as have (and doe daily) enveigh and raile against women with their scandalous tongues, and infamous abusive Li­bells; and in a word to con­clude this poynt, if any man be great in Office or Digni­ty, and that he hath uncon­trollable power to doe what he will; it is a hard matter [Page 85] for him to restraine himselfe from doing much hurt, and little good.

Dogs doe naturally barke and snarle at strangers, and such as they doe not know; Women were ne­ver so bad as m [...] and so those men that are ignorant in their malice, (or mallicious in their ig­norance) doe Reprehend and abuse women, and in their rayling they have the uncharitable Art to make the smale Mole-hills of our frailty appeare like Moun­taines; and with their inve­terate spleene, they Meta­morphose our Pigmey faults into huge Giants: But let me be so bold (with leave) [Page 86] as to aske them, if ever any women were such monsters as Nero, Heliogabalus, Caligula, Hamon, Iulian, Caine, Iscariot, Ahab, Achitophel, Rabsheka, Nabuchadnezer, Hollo­phernes, Ieroboam, Pha­raoh, Nimrod, Cham, Belshazer, (or Baltazer) Goliah, Esau, Achan, Ge­hezie, Absolon, Mannasses, Siscera, Shimei, Amon, Nabal, Herod, Chaiphas, Annus, Pilate, Elimas, Domitian, Catiline, Silla, Marius, Sardanapales, and thousands more such Commanders, inventers, maintainers, and defenders [Page 87] of mischiefes, and all sorts of wickednesse & villanies; of which the Stories of their detestable lives, with their deserved deaths, doe make most horrible and loathed mentions: nor hath these Kingdomes of England and Scotland, bin alwaies cleare from the Tyranny of such, as the Chronicles will witnes of Mackbeth, and Richard the third: and I am sure that women were not the Com­plotters, or contrivers of the Powder Treason; nor ever did any woman devise Projects and Monopolies.

Thus any one that hath but common sence or rea­son [Page 88] in him,He that rayles a­gainst wo­men, doth forget that his mother was a wo­man. may perceive that those who so bitterly raile against women, doe forget that Women were their mothers, or that they had their Birth (or secon­dary Originall being from women:) I will not bee so lavishly or unmannerly in­victive against men, but that amongst them there have bin (and are, and I am not out of hope there will alwayes bee) many of that noble Sexe, that doe scorne and despise those scurrilous sordid Libells, who are no better than the Divells Penposts: that have the Art to write by [Page 89] roate, and raile at random, without regard of truth or equiry: (for a just and wise man deemes nothing to be reasonable that hath not equity in it) whose sweet stinking Poeticall verses runs all manner of feete without measure, rime, or reason; and Sa­tans cloven foot withall into the bargaine. I touch not any way upon good Poets, for to them Fortune is blind, and (in her blind bounty) shee returnes a small share for Minerva, and vicious greatnes, gol­den foppery, and silken Ignorance are most dead­ly [Page 90] enemies to the Muses: as eminent persons doe not alwaies carry Scales a­bout them to weigh the merits of deserving men; but I speake of our mun­grill Rimsters, that with an affectate over-weening conceite of themselves, doe imagine that they can cough Logicke, speake Rhetoricke, neese Gram­mer, belch Poetry, pisse Geometry, groane Musicke, vomit Apothegmes, and squirt Oratory. These (and such as these) are the most furious and fierce Pendra­gonists, these are the pe­stifferous Iacksquiterers, [Page 91] that if they could, would blow and blast the fame of women:None but Mungrill Rimers speake against Women. These can change the shapes of their inven­tions according as the times and purpose best be­fits their servile inclinati­ons: for they have all got the Theory of well speak­ing, (when they please) but if ever they busie them­selves with the practick of well doing, I will bee at the charge to pay for their hanging; for it is more ea­sie to make a good nimble Foot-man of the running Goute, than it is to make one of these an honest man.

[Page 92] Although some few, (and those few too many) women doe professe goodnesse in Hi­pocrisie, yet that is not a Generall disparagement to such as are truely vertuous in sincerity; for if I may bee so bold as to speake that which is Recorded in holy Writ, I shall prove presently out of the best Authors that ever liv'd, that women have beene, and are, and will be, must be, and shall be, either mens betters, or their equalls; (or at the least) not to be so much un­der-valued, as not to be abu­sed, villified, and traduc'd by every idle & paltry Pot-companions.

[Page 93]As for the first man, he was made of Earth, Clay; (yea of the very slime of the earth) also he was cre­ated in the open wide field (as all other the rest of earthly Creatures were:) and being made (I must confesse he was perfect, and full of perfection) yet doth his very Name de­monstrate that hee was of a meane & pure substance; for the Word (or Name Adam) doth signifie Clay, or red earth: but when that earth and slime was purified, and made perfit (with being fully posses­sed with a Reasonable [Page 94] Soule) then man being in Paradice, (a most pleasant and delectable place) there in that choycest and prin­cipall Garden of delight, (man being refined from his drosse) was woman Created: there was she na­med Eve, (or Hevah) wch is as much as to say Life;) because shee was the Mo­ther of all men & women that should ever live, or have living: she was made out of the side of the man, (neere to his heart) be­cause hee should heartily love her: and as all the rest of the Creatures were cre­ated before man, to show [Page 95] that hee was not brought into a bare and naked world, (although himselfe was so) but it was Glori­ously and Magnificently adorn'd & beautified with all things fitting for the the entertainement of so glorious an Image, (or Deputy to the Greatest) yet in that great state hee was alone, without any one to have a participati­on, or joyfull fellow sim­patheticall feeling of his felicity. Then did it please the Great Creator, to Cre­ate the noble Creature (Woman) to bee his Hel­per, associate, and compa­nion; [Page 96] therefore I conclude, that as man was made of pollution, earth, & slime; and woman was formed out of that earth when it was first Refin'd: as man had his Originall in the rude wide field, and woman had her frame and composure in Paradise; so much is the womans Honour to bee regarded, and to be held in estimati­on amongst men.

Divers more ex­amples I could pro­duce.To these few I could add infinite, but I study to avoyd prolixity; onely I desire of you Sir Seldome Sober, and the rest of your most pittifull partisons, to [Page 97] bee resolved in this one Question;The World cannot subsist without women. How commeth the world to be thus peo­pled? and whence grow­eth this goodly Generati­on upon the earth, which from the first Creation hath continued to this pre­sent; and shall last to all Posterity: we are not like these swift Spanish Genets, which (some Write) en­gender onely by the wind? purperated without man: doe we the despised, sue to you the well disposed? or being the the Vessels, peti­tion to you the Proditors of your fames & honors? when was it knowne in [Page 98] any Age,Women never seeke and petiti­on to men for love. that our Sexe have groaned at your Gates, and sate waking whole cold winters nights at your windowes? when sonnetted to your Signior ships, or love Letter'd to your Lordships? when haunted you in your Hou­ses? and way layed you in your walkes? These you have done, and daily and hourely doe to us; and i [...] wee have bin either way­ward in our words, or bu [...] counterfeited a coynesse in our countenances; you [...] brave high spirits have bi [...] ready to homage you [...] selves, nay some have done [Page 99] it really: as thinking to enter the strict way by a string: Nay many times when you are denyed the game, you have offered Fees; and by rape to ha­zard the Gallowes.

If the Husband-man Till, Plow, Sow, and Har­row his ground, &c. it is in hope of an harvest; or if hee labour and take paines; it is in hope of his hire: If the Merchant ha­zard his purse, and person by Sea, it is in the expecta­tion of some great gaine and profit: and can you wise men, take toyle and travell; wake and watch, [Page 100] rise early, and goe to bed late; spend your time, wits, and money: vow and protest, sweare and forsweare; ingage your fortunes, and indanger your lives; and all these for wily, wanton, way­ward, wicked women; by gaining whom, you can but loose your selves; and to purchase them, cannot be without your so great prejudice. Most sure if this cause shall come before a just Iudge, and have the benefit of a considerate Censure; but we so much reproved and reviled, shall bee acquit by Proclamati­on, [Page 101] and you Sir Seldome Sober, with the rest of your rayling Society bee found sole guilty of Ca­lumny, scandall, and most palpable Contradiction: Your intimations and in­tents, your proposition and your purpose, your method & your meaning; having no coherence, or correspondence the one to the other.

And therefore we weak women,Women able at all times to maintaine their un­dertakings when men are not able. stand up against you mighty men; (for so you thinke your selves) when alas wee know by proofe, that when you brave Masculines are at [Page 102] any time incountered by our Femenine Sexe, even in the first assault, you are as soone tam'd as talkt with; and can scarce really tell us you love us, but you are as ready to turne tayle and leave us: and yet are not ashamed to animate your selves in your owne assem­blies; and would make the world to beleeve, that you the first Cowards are the sole Conquerours.

An An­swer to the Pren­tises Le­cture in the mor­ning.But forsooth when you faile in your prowesse, you thinke to fit us in your Proverbes; (which you priviledge by their Anti­quity) but indeede they [Page 103] are so stale in their very Names, that they stinke in our noses: for example, When the Mistris calls up her Apprentice, shee saith if she be crost, shee will make him leape at a Crust; as if Citizens kept such penuri­ous Houses, that they were ready upon the least occasi­ons to starve their Ser­vants: Nay, that she ta­king her Husbands Autho­rity out of his hands, will beate her Boy the Rogue; and bast the Kitchin-maid who rules the Roast, till she make their bones rattle in their skinns: and when shee hath gotten her will, then [Page 104] Rattle Baby Rattle.

An an­swer to the Le­cture of the wife to her husband.Then in your Lecture of the Wife to her Hus­band, Is the house a wild-Cat to you? and why a Wild-Cat you tame foole? unlesse you study to set odds betwixt man and wife, and to make them agree in a house like Dogs and Cats together.

An an­swer to the Coun­try Far­mers wives Lecture.Then comes in the Country Farmers Wife, with her couple of Ca­pons, when all her shee neighbours dare take their Oathes, that her Husband is a Cocke of the Game; yet shee must call him Francis Furmity-pot, Bar­nard [Page 105] Bagg-pudding, or Bacon-face, William Wood­cocke, Durty Dotterill, or Dunstable, Harry Horse­head, Simon Sup-broath, Ralph Rost a Crow, Tom Turd in thy teeth, and the like beastly and bastardly names, meerely of your owne durty devising: as knowing what belongs to your selves, when wee cannot finde in our hearts to foule our mouthes with any such filthy Lan­guage.

But sure Sir Seldome, (or never) Sober, your Father was some Jakes-Farmer, and your Mother [Page 106] a Midwife, or hee some Rake-shame, or Ragg-gatherer; and shee the daughter of a Dung-hill, that their Sonne is forc'd to patch out his Poetry with such pittifull Pro­verbes: and cannot wee come upon you with the like? and in tasking of your rudenesse tell you, you should have talked under the Rose: to punish your too much prating, tell you,Their an­swer to him, and the pro­verbs con­futed. Little said, soone amended. In terrifying you from the like troubling of your selfe, That there is a day to come, that shall pay for all; and to restraine [Page 107] you within some regula­rity, A man may bring his Horse to the water, but hee cannot make him drinke. In not sparing of your Spouse-breach, There is False-hood in Fellow-ship. When wee shall bury one untoward Husband, and take another; Seldome comes the better. When you foole us with your flatteries, you play with us at Wily beguile you: And to conclude with that most learned Ballad, song about the streetes, and Composed by your fellow Poet M. P. O such a Rogue would be hang'd. This wee [Page 108] could doe, nay this wee much care not to doe; un­lesse you moderate your flying Muse, and mend your manners.

How they would use him.Nay wee could Anato­mize you into Atomes, and dissect you into De­munitives, to make you lesse than nothing; but it it is the modesty of our Madam-ships, and the pa­tience that our Sexe pro­fesses, to parley before we punish; and to hang up a flagge of Truce, before we offer to Tirannize: but if you take heart and hold out, and seeme not sorry at this our first Sommons; [Page 109] wee will not onely beate you, but batter you; bum­bast and bafle you, Can­vace and Cudgell you; Brave you and Bastinado you: but leave you to the terrible Trophies of our Victorious Triumph, and the remarkeable memory of your most miserable, and unpittied Massacre: Yet in all this we doe not menace the men, but their mindes; not their Persons, but their Penns; the hor­ridnesse of their humours, and the madnesse of their Muses: which indeed to­wards us have beene in­supportable, and intollera­ble: [Page 110] Therefore be advised and let us heare either of your publicke acknow­ledgement, or at the least your private recantation; either to us all in generall,Their Cruell threat­ning of Sir Sel­dome So­ber. or some in particular, &c. or we will make thy owne pen thy Ponyard; thy Inke thy banefull potion; thy Paper thy winding sheete; thy Standish thy Coffin; thy Sand-dust thy Grave-dust, to bury thy shallow wit in, with thy face downe-ward; which if we doe not, let us for ever beare the burthen with our faces upwards.

Now concerning your [Page 111] very passionate, but most pittifull Poetry, a questi­on may be made, whether you be a Land Laureate, or a Marine Muse; A Land Poet, or a Water Poet; A Scholler, or a Sculler; Of Pernassus, or puddle Dock; Of Jonia, or Ivy Bridge: But howsoever, it is not in the compasse of our Rea­ding, that Mnemosyne ever lived at Milford Lane, or Terpsichore at Trigg Stay­ers, where they say the Divell once tooke water.

Nay more then all this, a little further to magnifie our Sexe; are not the foure parts of the world, Asia, [Page 112] Africa, Europe, and Ame­rica Deciphered and de­scribed under the Persons of women, and their Gen­der? The nine Muses, [...] the Twelve Sibells, were they not all women? The Foure Cardinall Vertues, Iustice, Fortitude, Pru­dence, Temperance, Wo­men? The three Graces, the Hand-maids to Venus, women? The three Theo­logicall Vertues, Faith, Hope, and Charity, Wo­men? nay Wisedome it selfe,In the praise of Women. is it not Sapientia, and figured in the forme of a Woman? Are not all the Arts, Sciences, and [Page 113] Vertues, of what quality or condition soever, Por­trayed in the persons of women: whether then I pray you Sir Seldome So­ber were your wits wande­ing, or went a Wooll-gathering, when you beate your braines about this poore, and most pittifull Pamphlet? Have wee claim'd this to our selves? nay rather hath it not bin meritoriously conferr'd upon us by you men? had you thought your selves worthy of these noble and brave Attributes, you would have sequestred them from our Sexe, and [Page 114] Celebrated them to your selves: but those who thought themselves more VViser than you have shewed your selfe, (in this witty) of these Honours to support and maintaine which they thought them­selves too weake: have both by their words and writings thought us wor­thy.

Now whether is the greater approbation for any Cause in question, or for any person convented to be acquitted, by one sin­gle man, or by a whole Se­nate: by a private censo­rious and supercilious Sy­nicke, [Page 115] then by a full, free, and generall assembly.

Besides,Wee Women claime a priviledge wee claime a further priviledge, that is to be tryed by our Peeres, and grant us but that, and then besides Keisars and Kings, Princes and Poten­tates, Soveraignes & Sub­jects, Court, City, Campe and Country; wee have the Graces & the Goddes­ses, the Nimphs and the Meriades; the Virgins, the Vestalls, the Wives, the Widowes, the Country wench, the Countesse, the Laundresse, the Lady, the Maid-marrion, the Ma­tron, even from the Shep­herdesse [Page 116] to the Scepter; all ready to give up their voyces of our sides, that his Crabb-tree Cudgell Oyle, and his Iuniper sauce Lecture is false, foolish, sottish, superfluous Rai­ling, rediculous, absurd, nay more abhominable.

Finally no Sentence of Con­demnatiō ought to passe upon any, before a faire Verdit be given up by twelue honest men. All Sentences, and Con­demnations goe by a Iury of twelve, and they too ought ought not onely to be of un­derstanding, but good men and true; and shall the ge­nerallity of our Sexe be con­vented, and convicted by one poore ignorant silly Sot? Then wee may say (& not to our small griefe) [Page 117] that the woman cald Astraea, otherwise cald Justa, hath flowne up to Heaven, and left no Iustice abiding upon the Earth: had she bin still our Iudgesse, shee would (no doubt) have Censured; that as men have here to fore had the liberty to take many Wives; so women might have now the priviledge every one to take two Hus­bands at least: till they could find any one woman, who could meete with two men of the same mind with this Gregory, who would make himselfe a Grand Iury man. But Read the wise Womans Juniper, and she [Page 118] will jerke him for this.

Greeke Poets that if they were li­ving would de­fend the womans Vertues. But were there now sur­viving to vindicate our vertues, any of the Ancient Greeke Poetresses, A Ni­costrate, or Caripena; A Musaea, or a Meroe; A So­sipatra, or a Clitagora; An Aspatia Milesia, or Prax­illa Sycomia; A Myro Bi­zantia, or Cozinna Theba­na. Or amongst the Ro­mans; an Hortensia, or Hyparchia; A Claudia, or a Cornelia; Apollo Argen­taria, or Probavaleria; A Vittoria Collumna, or Marcella Romana, &c. If (I say) any of these were now surviving, what a pit­tifull [Page 119] thing would they make of this patulant Poet: and with one of their invective Iambicks, to despaire and hang himselfe: and in the stead of a Juniper, reade un­to him a Gibbot Lecture.

How have you stuft your Store-house, with a Cata­logue of common prosti­tutes and Curtizans; which made me thinke when I first saw your Booke, it had beene the Register of Bride-well: and I pray you who vitiated them, but you that that would seeme the vertuous? or who cor­rupted them, but you the male Crocadiles? was there [Page 120] Gill without her Jack, or flirts without her Framion. As Parents loosed the names of Father and Mo­ther when their Issue failes them, and Children are no more Sonnes and Daugh­ters when they have no Parents to protect them: so it is not possible, that the world could yeeld any one Branded with the Name of a whore,In the de­fencr of us women. but there must bee Whoore­master to make her so. Moreover, there was ne­ver Strumpet but had her Pimpe to usher her; nor a­ny Madam Mackarell with­out a Pander to man her.

[Page 121]You tell us a great many stories and to small pur­pose, of Hellen an Harlot, who had no doubt lived in honest life with Menelaus her Husband, had there not bin a bold-fac'd Paris to betray her. Of a Lais, a Famous Curtezan in Co­rinth, who valued every nights lodging at a thou­sand Drachmaes: and why did she set so high a price upon her prostitution? but the better to conserve her Chastity, and fright away libidenous fooles from hunting her Habitation: and so of the rest, by which any indifferent Rea­der [Page 122] may perceive, that all things make with us, which you maliciously have suggested against us.

I will not meddle with your pittifull Poetry, and rime Dottrell, borrowed out of Ballads: and yet why should I say borrow­ed, when I can Answer them in this one Distick:

The wo­men make rime of the Au­thor.
Though borrowing now b [...]
into fashion growne,
Yet I dare sweare, wha [...]
thou writst was thy own▪

For indeed I know no [...] who else will Challenge them.

[Page 123]In your Lecture of an old rich Widow to a yong Gallant,An an­swer to the Le­cture of the rich Widow. where you thinke to taske her of her wit, what doe you else but ap­prove her wisedome? who will not suffer her modest Gravity to bee fool'd by his youthfull Prodigality: and so what you strive to condemne as a vice, in effect you crowne for a vertue.

You make your Coun­try Farmers wife,An an­swer to the Le­cture of of a Coun­try Far­mers wife. to call wise-achers her Husband Wittall, Mopus and Moone-calfe, Hobbinot, and Hob­nailes, Lurden and Looby; Francis Fill-gut and Fur­mety-pot, [Page 124] Booby & Block­head, Dunce and Dotard Bull-beife, Barley pud­ding, Sim Slabber-chops and the like; and like e­nough he may be all these, & she in this gives but the Divell his due, and the Clownish Coridon his owne true Character: And what disparagement can this bee to us? or what great honour to you of the Male Sexe, that a­mongst men there can bee found such a monster?

An an­swer to the Le­cture of the jealous old Wo­men.Can you blame the jea­lous woman for having such care over her Hus­bands health, purse, and [Page 125] Person? for what is jea­lousie but a too much in­dulgence, and over Love? and I feare ten at this time of twenty, are not much troubled with it.

Your Lecture of your kind loving wife to her Husband we allow,The wo­man they approve of the Lecture of a kind wo­man to her Husband. & none so shamelesse in their slan­ders, but sometimes or other are constrained to tell truth and shame the Divell; and if you had onely followed the same Theame, you might have escapt from being thus threatned: but many who have striv'd to make, have mard; & in shunning Scyl­la, [Page 126] have falne into Charyb­dis: and this our impu­dent Poet, hath imitated such ignorant Pylots: where if he had had the skill to steare his Vessell in the milde Channell, hee might have arrived at an happy Harbour, and so escaped that shame and ship-wracke, which his fillinesse hath made him to suffer. Had Icarus in his Flight kept an equall distance, betwixt the Sea and the Sunne, the one had not melted his Waxe, nor the other moistned his Wings: nor hee beene made a wretched Prey [Page 127] to the Waters.

In your Widowes Le­cture to your Widower,An An­swer to the Le­cture of the young Widow to an old Widower. what tearmes doth shee use, but of your teaching; and what durty language but of your owne devi­sing: I thought you would have told us a tale, where­in you might have made them equal sharers, in their owne simplicity: which was to this effect.

A Widower and his widow sitting at Supper with a good joynt of meat together, and falling into some crosse words, (before they had tasted a bit of it; and having both good sto­macks:) [Page 128] A poore man came to the doore to begg an Almes for Gods sake: The man not knowing which way more to vexe his wife cald to his Ser­vant, and cutting the meat in the middle, laid one halfe upon his Trencher, and said; here take this and carry it to the poore man, and bid him pray for the soule of my former Wife; which seeing shee said nothing: but when the Servant was returned, she tooke the other halfe that was in the Dish, and gave it unto him saying; and I pray thee carry this [Page 129] to the poore man, and de­sire him to pray for the soule of my first Husband: by which meanes both themselves and their Ser­vants, were forced to goe to bed supperlesse: Now here the blame nor burden could be great, because it was borne upon equall shoulders: but you (as in all the rest) make the wo­man onely to Raile, and the men like so many silly Sots, to make no reply at all; as if wee were all mad, they milke-s [...]ps and me­cockes, wee froward, they foolish; we either sheepish or shrowish, and they [Page 130] onely simple and sottish; which how false it is, and farre from any probability of truth, common experi­ence can testifie: for who­soever shall observe his stile and method shall finde, that what hee so much boasts off hee hath borrowed from the basest of our Sexe; as being in all his Tinkerly tearmes more foule-tongu'd than a Fish-wife, and more open mouth'd than any Oyster­wench.

A word or two more con­cerning the vertue and Chastity of Women, there was never any man could [Page 131] generally compare with Women; No man whatsoe­ver is Ge­nerally to be compa­red to wo­men for Vertue. to speake of the best and most blest (the one and onely Virgin Mother, she that was at one time Maid, Mother, Wife Child, & Sister to her Son; she that most happily was elected) from all Eternity to be the blessed bringer forth of a Saviour, for all repenting and true belee­ving sinners, she was so ful­ly fill'd and replenish'd with grace, that shee is justly sti­led blessed amongst women: and for a further proclai­ming of her happinesse, All Generations shall call her Blessed: Shee was the [Page 132] Worlds onely wonder, and most rare and soveraigne mirrour of chastity. Many thousands more are mentio­ned for that onely famous vertue of Continency, in Divine and prophane Histo­ries, whose honourable, and Venerable memories shall out-live time, and flourish in Glorious Eternity. Be­sides, as there have bin and are innumerable of our no­ble Sexe, that have liv'd and dyed Virgins; so like­wise millions of them who have bin married, and after marriage became Widowes, they have bin so inclined to the love of chastity, that [Page 133] they would never bee wonne to accept of a second marri­age: and for an inimitable example of a worthy Ma­tron, it is Recorded, that Anna the Prophetesse was but seven yeares a mar­ried wife, but that after her Husband was dead, she lived a Widow fourescore and foure yeares: an example a­bove any you men can shew.

Moreover women were so chast, Women for the Love of Posterity doe marry you men, and for no other end. tha [...] though they did marry and were married, it was more for propagation of Children, than for any car­nall delight or pleasure they had to accompany with men; they were content to be joy­ned [Page 134] in Matrimony with a greater desire of Children than of Husbands, they had more joy in being Mothers than in being Wives; for in the old Law, it was a curse upon Women to be Barren: and surely if there had beene any lawfull way for them to have had Children without Husbands, there hath beene, and are, and will bee a num­berlesse number of Women that would or will never be troubled with wedlocke, nor the knowledge of man. Thus good and modest Women have bin content to have none, or one man (at the most) all their whole life­time, [Page 135] but men have bin so addicted to incontinency, that no bounds of Law or reason could restraine them: for if we reade the Story of the Kings of Iuda, there we may finde the wisest that e­ver raign'd, (Solomon) had no fewer than three hundred Wives, and seven hundred Concubines; and that his Sonne Rehoboam had eighteene Wives and sixety Concubines, by whom hee begat twenty eight Sonnes, and threescore Daughters. There have bin some good women, that when they could have no Children, they have bin con­tented [Page 136] that their Husbands should make use of their Maid-servants; as Sara and Rachell, and Leah did; but I never heard or read of any man that (though hee were old, diseased, decripit, gow­ty, or many and every way defective, and past ability to be the Father of any Child) that hath bin so loving to his wife, as to suffer her to made a Teeming Mother by another man. There was once a Law in Sparta, a­mongst the Lacedemoni­ans, that if the husband were deficient, for propagating or begetting of Children, that then it was lawfull for the [Page 137] wife to entertaine a friend or a Neighbour; but the wo­men were so given to chasti­ty, that they seldome or ne­ver did put the said Law in practise, and J am perswa­ded that that Decree is quite abolish'd, and out of use and force all the World over.

The constant courage, and fixed Pious and wor­thy resolutions of those women that are mentio­ned in the seventh of the second Booke of the Ma­cabees, is Transcendent and suparlative above all men that ever were either spoken of or Recorded in [Page 138] to which place I referre the Reader for larger Rela­tions.

Holy Writ doth nomi­nate 5. famous women of the name of Mary; First the Blessed Virgin. Secondly, Mary the mother of Iames the lesse; and Joseph and Sa­lome, and the wife of Cleo­phas, & the Virgin Maries owne Sister. Thirdly, the Mother of Iohn, and Iames the Sonnes of Zebedoe. Fourthly, the Mother of Iohn, Marke: and Mary Mag­dalen, who was the Sister of Lazarus; these were all women, who were hardly to be equall'd in goodnes [Page 139] and vertue by men: they were the loving Hand­maides of the highest. And it would bee tedious and needlesse to name those worthy women in this poore Pamphlet, who are already Recorded in the never ending Booke of immortallity. Susannaes chastity, Lidias dilligent piety, the bounty and cha­rity of Dorcas, and the painefulnesse of Pheabe: all these and many more are remembred in ever­lasting blessed Volumnes.

Thus have I truely and impartially proved, that for Chastity, Charity, [Page 140] Constancy, Magnanimity, Vallour, Wisedome, Piety, or any Grace or Vertue whatsoever. Women have alwayes bin more than e­quall with men; and that for Luxury, Sarquedrin obscenity, prophanity, Ebriety, Impiety, and all that may be called bad wee doe come farre short of them. Now we thinke it meete onely to tell them a little of one fault, which we are sure they doe know al­ready; and that our Repe­tition of it will bee no meanes to Reforme it: yet to shew the World that Women have great cause [Page 141] to finde fault, and bee dis­contented with their odi­ous generall vice of Drun­kennes. We will relate unto you the dellicate dainty Foppish, and rediculous conceites of Sir Seldome Sober, with the most foo­lish, idle, and sottish trickes and feates of his idle and Adle-pated fol­lowers.

Severall Questions propounded to Sir Seldome Sober, by the Women, viz.

Questions asked and put to Sir Seldome Sober by the Wo­men.FIrst, were Women e­ver since the Creation of the World, such noto­rious and Capitall offen­ders as you men have been from time to time; not onely in particular to your Wives and Family; but I meane in publike against [Page 143] your Prince and Coun­try, being found Traitors, as our Chronicles can wit­nesse.

Secondly, were there ever any woman put in the Stocks, or set in the Pillo­ry, or had ever any hand in Coyning, or Clipping, or Defacing their Princes Money.

Thirdly, doe women do as you men doe, who lye abed on purpose to invent mischiefe, and plot how to get other mens estates into your hands by your slye dissembling: and then [Page 144] either breake and runne a­way; or at the least com­pound for tenne Groates in the pound; and then set up againe, and doe as much more within seven yeares after.

Fourthly, doe Women become common Baile in Actions, for the value of twelve pence, as you men doe: Or bee Knights of the Post, to sweare and forsweare in many Cases, for a small summe of mo­ny: and in hyring Satten Doublets and Breeches in Long Lane, and come in a Ruffe to beare false witnes against their neigh­bour

[Page 145]Fiftly, did you heare that ever any women ran away from their Captaines Colours: but whatsoever they did undertake, they went through stich with it, and not flye like Cow­ards, or fight in private Armour, or Coates of Male, as you men have done? but women you have heard of, who have beene forced to lye and fight it out, and endure the brunt, when you men were not able to stand to it.

Sixtly, doe Women, as you men doe, for [Page 146] the value of a dinner or Supper, become bound in a summe of Mony for other men, to undoe their Wives and Children, and runne away into the Low-Countries to be a Souldi­er, and there kill men for three shillings a weeke.

Seventhly, when did you heare, or ever know Women, that make eight dayes in the Weeke to de­ceive poore men of their pay as you men doe?

Eighthly, when did you ever read or heare of any women that turned Pro­jectors, [Page 147] striving to undoe Kingdomes, onely to en­rich themselves by their severall Monopolies and Patents: Patents did I say? indeed Patents, in my con­ceite, should belong most properly to us women, who know how to use them: for your mens Pa­tents and Monopolies are hurtfull to all, ours to none, but they are for a generall good, and to pre­serve our Healths, yours to ruine and begger Men, Women and Children.

Ninthly, how many wo­men have you knowne or [Page 148] seene, that have beene brought home drunken in a Porters Basket, or led home betweene two Vint­ners Boyes, or that e­ver dranke out their eyes, and left their wits be­hinde them on a Taverne Bench; or came home with their Legges or Armes broken by their ex­cessive Drinking, and in­gurgitating of too much Wine.

Tenth, I pray you Sir Seldome Sober, tell us how many Women that ever you heard of, that ranne and hid themselves in a [Page 149] Cupboard when there came out a Presse for soul­diers; or lockt themselves up in some private place for feare of the Presse: when we women stand it out, and never feare, or once be afraid: let there come a Presse out night by night, or day by day, wee women will never runne, or shrinke our heads for it.

Eleventh, how many women did you ever heare of, that kept Horses to gallop after Mutton; I meane laced Mutton: and then returne againe nei­ther [Page 150] with good Horse, or sound Reines; but cree­ping and halting, as if you had beene shot in some hot service of Warre?

Twelfth, how many Women did you ever hear of, that doe drinke so much, that they doe quar­rell and fight, and teare one anothers Bands and Cloathes; and then bee carried before a Justice, or else end the businesse by Arbitration, to their losse both of mony and time: or not so ended, doe chal­lenge the field, and there sheath their swords in [Page 151] one anothers breast? All these are causes enough to make a woman speake, whose Husband is thus in fault: and wee ought to speake, for wee have no­thing to offend (and defend our selves) but our tongues: nay more, as you men have but five Sences, I will prove that women have sixe, and that is our Tongues; and ther­fore wee may speake and pleade for our selves with our tongues, and defend our selves by our tongues; and therefore Sir Seldome Sober hold you your Tongue hereafter; for [Page 152] you know sixe to five is odds at foot-ball; and you shall be sure to finde it so, if ever you doe come into our quarters: but wee hope Time will jerke your blinde Cheekes for this, or else you will get such a blow with a French Coul­staffe, that you will end your Dayes in an Hospi­tall. O that wee had you amongst us but two hours, or something which wee could wish betweene a cleft sticke, we would serve you but as the Bakers Wife did the Divell, make you somewhat the lighter, the better, and the more [Page 153] nimble for your next Summers Travaile, and cause that Copper-Nose, which hath so many Co­lours as the Raine-bow, to appeare of another hew: but wishes are in vaine; and time and opportuni­ty will bring things toge­ther which were never dreamt of; so wee leave you Sir Seldome, or never Sober; onely we will give you the Character of a Drunkard, and Drunken­nesse, and so conclude with a few Tales to the same purpose.

SOme say, that the Sci­ence of Drinking Car­rowses, and Drunken Healths was brought into England by the Danes when they conquered this Kingdome: but from whomsoever you learned the Mystery, it makes no great matter: It is appa­rently knowne, that nei­ther Dane, or Dutch-man, True-man, or Welsh-man, can goe beyond you here­in: for by your daily Do­cuments (most Noble Sir [Page 155] Seldome Sober) men are so perfect, that they are able to teach their Teachers, to master their Masters, & to lay all Nations in the Durt that dares oppose them: For the which Cunning, they are all bound to you; and to manifest their thankfulnesse, every day almost three quarters of the Masculine Sexe doe declare and shew them­selves to bee Sir Seldome Sobers Men. For his Fol­lowers, they are the onely Chimmists, and Hyperbo­licall Artists below the Moone-shine, and they are of all Callings, Functions, [Page 156] Arts, Trades, and Occupa­tions: they are likewise of all degrees; from the Mo­narch to the Miser; from the Lord to the Lowne, and of either Masculine, or Feminine Sexe or Gen­der. The force of Wine, or much Drinking did often make Phillip King of Macedon to rage against his Foes; and it caused his Sonne (Alexander the Great) to kill his friends: most of them are such Friends to Oblivion, that they will Drinke, Smoake, and Pipe away Time. Some are such Miraculous, strange wonder-workers, [Page 157] that they can turne Night into Day, and Day into Night. It hath made ma­ny a Souldier Metamor­phose the mettle of his Murrion and his Mor­glay into the Elixer or spirit of the Buttery, and Clinking of Wine-pots, to renounce Armes and Blood-shead, except the Clarret blood of Bacchus. It makes thousands of Merchant Adventurers e­very day and night to the Toride Zone of Canarie: It is the Poets Nepenthe, Aganippa, his Nectar, Tempe, Helicon, and Caste­lian fountaine; and when [Page 158] his Muse flags, it inspires her with such straines and raptures, that she Mounts and Soareth higher, than Jupiters Eagle, or the Spheare of Saturne. It causeth the Grammarian to speake beyond his Rules. It fills the Logici­aner With Syllogismes, and Sophistry. It makes the Mathematician so skil­full, that hee knowes Charles his Waine from a Sedan, and the Antar­ticke Pole from a Con­stables Staffe. By the In­spiration of Drinke, the most simple Arithmatici­an will accompt past num­bring, [Page 159] and number beyond all accompt. It causes the Astronomer to play the Aleconers part, and search all the twelve Signes of the Zodiacke, to know what weight and measure they allow. It attires the Rhetoricians speech with such Eloquent tearmes of Fustian phrases, that it is beyond the Speakers un­derstanding, and all mens else that are troubled to heare him. Drunkennesse is the most frequent and universall Trading in the World: it makes (almost) every Man a Merchant or Chapman: for if you [Page 160] marke it, there is of all Trades and functions that doe every day goe abroad from house to House, for no other purpose but to buy Drinke. It is Musick of it selfe, and it is compo­sed, and consists of Frets, Stops, Clefts, Moods, Flats, Sharpes, Spaces, and most strange Notes, Tones, and Tunes, Phrygian, Lidian, Dorian, nine poynts above Ela, and two pots below Gamoth: For upon the Ale-bench, they are all compacted of Quavers, Semiquavers, Sembriefes, Minnums, and Crotchets: One squeaks shrill, like an, [Page 161] Owle, another Brayes the Descant, like an Asse, a third bellowes the Tenor, like a Bull, a fourth Barks the Counterpoint, The wo­mens ex­amples and simi­lies of drunken­nesse in a modest phrase. like a Hound, a fift howles the Treble, like a Wolfe, and a sixt grunts the Base, like an Oxe: that what with the ravishing sound of Sacke­buts, Canary Pipes, Tobacco Pipes, Flouts, (or Fluits) Shames, Bad-pipes, weights, Hoboyes, Clinking and Knocking of Pots, Stam­ping, Dancing, and Sin­ging to confused Noyses; there is daily such sweete and Contagious Har­mony [Page 162] amongst them, that a man cannot any way compare the deliciousnes of it to any thing more significantly, than to most Eare-bewitching Cater­wauling; or their ren­ding and tearing of tunes, are as delightfull to the hearing, as the fat end of a Pudding. And truely, you men are so experi­mented in the Trade of Bibbing, (or Arti Bibendi) that the Spungy Dutch are most sober Catoes, in respect of you, Apuleius Asse a grand Sophy, and the Wise men of Gotham would seeme amongst us [Page 163] to be the seven Sages of Greece. Drinke is the I­doll which you men a­dore, and every day you doe fall downe to it: It is the Catalogue of all Fa­culties: It is the rare Escu­lapian medicinable Anti­monian Cup, for it cures all: It is (as it were) the Mid-wife of Justice, for it brings forth all, and oft­times it restores both Principall and interest in a flood or inundation of Expression; It makes a Man cast learnedly, like Homer: It multiplyes the eye-sight, which is the cause, that some Beere is [Page 164] called double Beere, by reason it enlargeth the ca­pacity, and makes a man see every thing double; As one writ very sententi­ously.

The Scribe, or the Clerke,
Whose sights are dark,
And the print of the Letters
doth seeme too small,
Will conne every Letter,
And read much the better,
If they glaze but their eyes
with a pot of good Ale.

Amongst you men it is the sweetest Life to bee Dead Drunke, and a well-seasoned Drunkard, is an [Page 165] unmeasurable merry com­panion, that holds the great Barrel at Heidlebergh to bee but a Bottle: nor doth he hold it lawfull to looke wisely, goe steadi­ly, stand firmely, or speake sence. Nor will he disho­nour the Calling with slee­ping above once a Weeke, or a Fortnight. Many of them are [...] so wary, and [...]ealous of their Reputati­ons, that they will pay no Reckonings, because they hold it a disparagement to their Credits not to bee credited. Some are ab­hominably furnished with; Oathes, and Protestations [Page 166] of all sorts and sizes, and for any speciall occasion, or company: As small mincing Oathes for the City, Couragious Oathes for the Court, Hob-naild Oathes for the Country, Cudgell Oathes to breake a Creditors Pate, Rapier Oaths to runne a Serjeant, or a Bayliffe through, and Backe-sword Oathes to crosse an Ale-house score. And as an Ape will imi­tate a man, so a Drunken man will imitate a Beast. Moreover, you shall have seventeene, or eighteene in one Roome, at one and the same time, all in most [Page 167] different and various Acti­ons and Postures; one will whoop and hollow, another sings, a third dan­ces, a fourth weepes, a fift sleepes, a sixt leapes o­ver Stooles and Tables, and shewes feates, a se­venth Knocks, Stamps, and throwes pots downe the staires; calls the Draw­ers Rogues, the Man of the House Cuckold, and his Wife whore, breakes Glasses, and Glasse-win­dowes: another pulls out his sword, and to make va­lient proofe how well hee can use it, he cuts, hewes, and slashes posts, doores, [Page 168] boards, and stakes, the poore prodigalls picture in the painted Cloath; and in that veine hee is so Couragious, as to brandish his Blade against Hector singly, or (for a need) you may turne him loose to combate with all the Nine Worthies. We saw once one that was so Pot-vali­ent, that in revenge, hee with his sword thrust poore Iudith into the bel­ly, because shee kil'd Holo­phernes when hee was drunke: Some boast their Descent and Antiquity of their Housrs, and Gentry of their Predecessors: [Page 169] Some brag of their wealth which, perhaps, their ac­cursed and miserable fa­thers did purchase either by buying and selling Ju­stice, or by Briberie, Ex­tortion, or some other ex­ecrable way over the De­vils Backe, and therefore their sonnes and heires do take a mad or a drunken course to spend it under his Dams Belly with Rore­ring and Whoring. Some in their drink do make no bones to speake Treason, and indeed they make no­thing to prattle and scrib­ble Scandala Magnatum ▪ Some will utter all the se­crets [Page 170] they know (and more too) and by those meanes they have undone them­selves, their Wives, Fami­lies, Friends, and Neigh­bours; Some have foolish­ly (when the drink was in, and the wit out) lent away all their monie, or prodi­gally paid all the Recko­ning, or runne into bonds for others, or beene temp­ted and wonne to take up fine commodities (at chea­ting deer rates) as Ginger-bread, Rattles, Mouse­traps, Tormentours for Fleas, Tennis Balls, and Mundunga Tobacco. Some have sold their goods and [Page 171] lands (in their Ale) and they have been Beggers e­ver after being sober. To adde to this, many of Sir Seldome Sobers men have beene so cunning as to transforme monie, goods, lands, health, reputation, and libertie, all into drink, and with a few words of their mouthes, (like a Charme) they have turn'd their good friends into most deadly and invete­rate Enemies; Some are much inclin'd to steale when they are drunke, and because they love to be in action or practice, they wil picke their owne pockets [Page 172] rather then want worke. And some of them are such enemies to sloth that they will sleepe upon an Ale-house or Taverne-bench to avoid idlenesse.

Thus every day all sorts of people and Nations are drunke in severall formes and postures, as in one place one may finde or meete a Dutchman bloated like a stinking Herring: in another place a Welchman stew'd as mellow as a Pruine: in a third place a Scotchman mull'd with drinke and smoake: in a fourth an Irishman pickl'd in Vsquebagh, and lastly, an [Page 173] Englishman shall be all this and more to, for he will be drench'd, stew'd, mull'd, pickled, stew'd, and bloa­ted; there is no learned Pot-leech or Renowned Malt-worme, that is wor­thy to hold the candle to an English Drunkard, for by the inspiration of his Tap-Lash, and the infusion of the spirit of the spiggot, hee is Geometrically skild to turn a Quadrangle into a Circle, and to drink round at a square Table. The first Health is call'd a Whiffe, the second a Slash, the third a Hunch, the fourth Thrust, the fift is call'd [Page 174] Pot-shaken, the sixth is see­ing the Lions, the seventh, he is Scratch'd, the eighth, his Nose is dirty, the ninth, hee hath whipt the Catt, the tenth, he is fox'd, the eleventh, hee is Bewitch'd, the twelfth, hee is Blinde, and the thirteenth and last, hee is drunke.

Drink is of that quick­nesse in operation, and of such celeritie to inspire the Braine of man, that I did once know a Gentleman that rode to the Universi­tie of Oxford, who entred the City about two of the clock afternoone, and at his comming thither, hee [Page 175] could not speak any Greek or Latine at all, but by the Enthusiasme of Drinke, and drinking roundly and squarely, and with briefe and diligent potting and cupping, hee profited so well, that in lesse then four houres hee had forgot all his English, and could nei­ther speake or understand any word of his Mother tongue. One boasted what a Traveller hee had beene, and how hee had beene rob'd and cheated in every Country where hee came: As he had the luck to lose his Manners in Barbary, the Wild Irish and Red-shanks, [Page 176] stole his Civilitie, the Welshman gull'd him of his truth. In Hungaria he was bereav'd of his Abstinence and Sobrietie, in Sclavonia hee lost his Gentility, in Spaine his Honestie suffe­red Shipwrack, and in Am­sterdam hee stumbled, and (with the fall) lost his Re­ligion, or shatter'd it into Heresies, Sects, & Schismes; and all these losses and de­triments hapned to him in his drinke, or drunken madnes. He brags further, that he hath been at Terra Incognita, where some Ladies doe say their pray­ers; and many Courtiers [Page 177] doe keepe their words, where the Usurers do lend and take no interest, and prodigall Gallants erect Almshouses, where Scrive­ners and publike Notaries do weare long eares, and Townesmen have very short fore-heads; all these Rarities hee saw in a drun­ken Dreame. Besides, hee said, that hee was in Eng­land, and there he saw won­ders, as King Henry the 8 Cod-pisse, Charles Bran­dons Launce, Ancient Pi­stol's Sword, Smugge the Smiths Cap, Sir Iohn Fal­staffs Pistoll, Caesar Van­dunks Bottle, Queen Guin­nivers [Page 178] Masque, Penelopes Fan, Lucretiaes Busk, Cleo­patraes Fall, and the Muffe of Semiramis: and all these & thousands more Whim­seys, Carwhitthets, Conon­drums, and Aenigmaticall tricks and toyes are daily done by Drunkards.

And can any woman (that hath reason) or any man that hath sence blame us poore weak Feminines, to bee grieved at these e­normities; I, with the best of all my sexe doe appeale to all whomsoever have but indifferent capacitie and judgement, bee they of what degree soever, [Page 179] either male or female.

But yet I remember a few mischeifs more which drunkennes hath and doth daily overwhelme us with all; sometimes they quar­rell, and not onely quarrell but kill on another in their drunken roring vaine, and oftentimes for very wic­ked causes, these Taverne frayes or brawls have hap­ned, as sometimes because the one had not his Cup fill'd as full as the other, sometimes for not drink­ing all out (which is tear­m'd, winding up your bot­tome) footing off your Bowle, sup up your Cider) [Page 180] or some other such like learned phrase, and the ca­sting away of a small snuffe hath often bred a quarrell, or the not pledging a Health, which was begun to some unworthy person: perhaps, some oppressing inhospitable Great Man, or to a Begging-making Project-monger (whom a Commonwealth is bound to pray for over the left shoulder) or the Health may bee perhaps to some musty Madam, or Muskie Gentlewoman, or to a cō ­mon prostituted Whore, and such vile occasions as these many men have [Page 181] stab'd and slaine one ano­ther. There hath been two kill'd in the same unkinde kinde, within these few yeeres, with onely being stab'd into the eyes with Tobacco pipes.

And likewise, or more properly) in the like foo­lish way, they have thrown pots down the staires, and a Drawer, or some other person (at the same time) hath bin comming up the said staires, who hath met the said pot (being vio­lently cast) with their faces or heads, and beene kill'd out right: Thus have they by these mad-braind cour­ses [Page 182] too oftentimes made hazard of souls, by dispos­sessing them from mens bodies so suddenly and unprepared, also they have runne their necks into the nooze of the Law, by ma­king untimely worke for the Hangman. And lastly, (too many of them) have made forfeite of their e­states, goods and Lands, leaving their wives beg­gerd, and their children nothing but a scandal, that their father died an igno­minious death for killing of a man when hee was drunk.

But though this be bad [Page 183] which I have related, yet there is worse then this be­hinde, for as wee are com­manded to do no murder, (which is not to murder, others) Then surely they are most inhumane and uncharitable, who doe murder themselves; which bloudie and barbarous fact is not to bee excused in such as doe wilfully drinke themselves to death, as Master Iohn Stowe, in the 385 page of his Folio Chronicle, or Annals, doth recite a lamentable and re­markable accident, of 180 persons that died in their Drunkennesse in lesse then [Page 184] three daies space, and in the 753 page of the said Booke, hee relates the like that happened to our En­glishmen at the siege of the Groyne in Gallizia, where many hundreds lost their lives with drinking. And if you but consider & take notice of our Weekly Bils for the Sicknesse, you shall finde that everie Weeke some doe end their daies onely having kill'd them­selves with Surfets, of which all men doe know that drunkennesse is the chiefe occasion. And in the Generall Bill for the yeere 1636, it is set downe, that [Page 185] within London and the Li­berties thereof, there died no fewer then 371 persons all of surfeiting, and also 24 starved with famine in the fields & streets, whom halfe the superfluous ex­pences of those that kill'd themselves with surfeiting might have relieved. There are three words or names of severall things which doe begin with the letter H. All which are good (if well used, but as they are too much abused, they have beene the overthrow and ruine of many; they are Horses, Hawkes and Howndes; some Horses [Page 186] have prooved like Sinons jade to the Trojans, their hungry entrailes have de­voured and destroied their Masters Illion, and scarcely left them a Cottage to hide their heads in, some have found their Hawkes like the Vulture to Prome­theus, after they have mu­ted away their substance, they have prey'd and tir'd upon their verie Hearts. And some their have been so addicted to Hownds, that in the end their Dogs have devoured them like so many Acteons. Now likewise there are three o­ther things, whose names [Page 187] do beginne with the letter D, of which (two of them never were, are or will bee commodious for man, and the third (which is most usefull and necessary) is by the abuse of it) the onely bane of misgovern'd man­kinde; They are Drabbes, Dice, and Drinke: I will not say but Drabbes may prefer the Prodigall from the Palace to the Pig-stie, where hee (being leaden with want, misery, and diseases) may bee brought to learne and feele the ver­tue of repentance. Second­ly, the Dicer may (by his often slurring the bones of [Page 188] the dead) be brought to have a feeling acknowled­ment of his own living and most wretched condition: But the Drunkard is im­placably obstinate to bee so, he is, (as it were) rive­ted to drinke, he is inexo­rably rooted in his vice, and so unmoveable in his affection to be drunke, that though there be remedies for all other sins, yet there is nothing but death it self that can turn an old Drun­kard into a sober course.

Besides the most impu­dent and frequent offen­ders, that are addicted to any other vice, be it what [Page 189] it will be, they have some shew of modesty, or desire of privatenesse in the act­ing or committing of any of their ingrafted or inna­ted enormitie. The theife will warily watch that hee may not be seen when hee steales. The Whoremaster will be close, the Bawd will be secret, and though the Whore bee common, yet shee trades privately. Hee that takes bribes will re­ceive them secretly, though the Projector doe ayme at every mans goods, yet hee covers his intentions, that it is for all mens [Page 190] good, though the cause went against the Client, yet the Lawyer and his fee told him other ways at the first, and though the De­vill do day and night (with all diligence) seek our con­fusion, yet hee can sweetly allure us with cover'd slights & poysoned baits, that hee hides his uglinesse under the shape of an An­gell of Light. But the Drunkard is more impu­dent and shamelesse then either Whoremaster, Whore, Bawd, Thiefe, wicked Pro­jector, corrupted Lawyer, or the Devill himselfe. For although [Page 191] all these before named, are as bad, as wickednesse can make them, yet I did never reade or heare of any of them that at any time were so foolishly past shame, as to boast or glory in any of their villanies, as many Drunkards will; I have heard some to brag, how many they have out-drank and drank drunk in a day, as he payd one, hee pepperd another, he sawced a third, hee anointed a fourth, hee scowred a fift, hee dranke 27 Glasses or Cups, and wonne the Rumpe of a Goose, and bravely made all his Company as fox'd [Page 192] as fooles, and as beastly as Swine, and all the while this mighty and precious piece of service was doing, hee plyde it hard, and in conclusion, hee was not much worse when hee en­ded, then he was when hee began. And indeed, it is to be believed, that as one days worke cannot make him much the worse, so it is to be doubted, that ma­ny dayes and nights, with the friendliest counsels, the godliest admonitions, the sharpest reprehensions, the severest excommuni­cations, the dreadfullest execrations; all these can [Page 193] neither mend or move him; but that he hath not onely resolved to be wic­ked, but also to continue so, and to boast and glory in it. But to boast of sinne is a degree beyond sinne.

To lay these abhominable enormities aside, if wee should consider the good a drunkard doth, you will acknowledge him to be a most necessary evill: and (not to bereave him of his due) though hee be ne­ver well imployed, yet he he is never idle; and be­sides he sets many people a worke, that would other­wise be idle (or not have [Page 194] much to doe:) As for ex­ample; He puts the Con­stable into businesse, hee keepes the Watch wa­king; he visits the Justice; he sees the Clerke; hee is profitable to the Chandler, Tobacco-Pipe maker, and potent Patentee; hee keepes the Drawer in per­petuall motion; he is be­neficiall to the Glasse-house; he enricheth the Wine-merchant, the Vint­ner, the Cooper, the Brew­er, the Victuler, the Ser­jeant, and the Jayler; and many times hee is so great an enemy to idlenesse, that hee makes worke for the Hang-man.

[Page 195]And now (sweet Sir Seldome Sober) I pray your gravity to take it into your consideration, that these fore-named ver­tues are no Womens Workes. Alas, poore sil­ly Wretches as wee are, our weake capacities can never reach to the height of such worthinesse, wee have not the Art to swill and smoak away our hus­bands, our owne, our Chil­dren, our Families, and our Landlords food, health, raiment, and rent. And when any of them are surfeited, and dangerous sicke, what [Page 196] large promises they will make, what reformed Men they will bee, if ever they may recover their Healths; and when many of them are well againe, the most part or great number of them doe keep their words like men of Dursly. As a pretty Jest happened lately at a Sup­per amongst some Gentle­men and Women, where one of the gentlemen tooke a Cup in his hand, and said to a little Girle of 4. Yeares of Age: wife I will drinke to you: the Child answered him, saying, I will be none of your Wife: [Page 197] Why, said he? Because you were drunke yesterday, said she: with that they all laught heartily. But the man replyed, and said to the Child, Sweet-heart, you shall be my Wife for all that; for I will bee drunke no more: To whom she answered; So my Father said the other day, when he was sicke, but since hee is well againe, hee hath forgot his Promise, and is worse now than ever he was.

It is reported, that a yong fellow was told his Fortune once by a Witch, or a Wizard; which was, that he should commit one [Page 198] of these three most wic­ked and abhominable Facts, and that it was in his choise to chuse which of them hee would: the one was, he should kill his Father; the other was, that hee should defloure his Mother: And the third was, that hee should bee most deeply and extream­ly Drunke: Hee in his Heart abhorring the two first, detesting to bee the Death of his Father, (from whom he had Life) or to pollute and defile his mo­ther that bore him: to a­voyd both which exe­crable deedes, he made [Page 199] choise to be Drunke (as thinking it the lesser Crime of the three.) But being bruitish Barbarous, and beastly possest with too much Drinke, so that he knew not what he did, or said, hee then com­mitted all the three faults, of which hee made a drun­ken shift to avoyd but two.

And what woman can be such a Tame Foole, as to hold her tongue in her mouth, and (like a dumbe Beast) say nothing to her unthrifty Husband, that shall day and night wash downe his throate, with [Page 200] all, or the most part of their maintenance, and pisse against the Wall his health, wit, money, and credit; and all her com­fort is, that hee comes home, stinking, spewing, Belching, spetting, spaw­ling, slavering, and (be­ing once laid) snoring, like a Hogge in a Stie: or if he be not in that veine, per­haps he is in a worse mood to sweare, curse, fight, fling, and throw. As one of your Water-men (Sir Sel­dome Sober) the first letter of his name is J. came home Delicately mad Drunke, and pluckt a [Page 201] Ropes end out of his Pocket, wherewith hee most sorely beate his wife; which shee poore woman was faine to suffer with griefe and impatience: but within a weeke after, they being friends, she provided him the same Ropes end for his supper, boyld in Broth, like an Eele, and when hee had eaten the Broth out of the Platter, hee tooke his Knife, with intent to cut part of the Eele, and finding it to be hard for his cutting, hee asked his Wife what it was? Truely Husband, said shee, it is no worse than [Page 202] what you gave mee; and therefore I thought good to make it ready, and Cooke it for your Sup­per. Sir, it is a griefe to see, that a Gentleman of your great Calling, is so ill attended in the fore­noones: for commonly the greatest number of your servants and follow­ers doe lye long a bed, so that you have but small and slender service of them, till three or foure of the Clocke in the after­noone, and from that time, till past Mid-night: the Tavernes, Ale-hou­ses, and streetes are furni­shed [Page 203] and throng'd with all sorts of people, that for your honour are suffi­ciently Drunke, and for your further repu­tations, in all places by their drinking, speaking, going, or any other action or posture of theirs they doe declare themselves to bee Sir Seldome Sobers men.

And now I think it meet and convenient to Relate some few of their merry Pranke and Feates which they have done in their drinke.

1.

A Young Roaring Gal­lant had newly enter­tained an old Gray-bear­ded Serving-man, whom his Master commanded to fetch him some Beere, for his Mornings draught; for it is to bee noted, that it is almost a generall Cu­stome or fashion to drinke nothing else but Wine all the day after. The old fel­low having brought the Beere delivered it to his [Page 205] Master; who said to him Thou hast some experi­ence by reason of thy age, and therefore I aske thy advice, Whether it be bet­ter for a man to take his mornings draught stan­ding or sitting: the Ser­vant answered, that it is best to take it standing: Nay then I perceive thou art a foole, said the Gentle­man: for all Doctors, and Physitians, and other best approved judgements doe hold it meetest to drink it sitting: Truly, Sir, said the other, I am of a contrary opinion, for I thinke it the wisest way to stand to [Page 206] my drinke in the Mor­ning, and to sit downe to it in the after-noone, when I cannot stand.

2.

THere was on Richard Long, who was Yeo­man Sadler to the King: The said Long had made shift to bee in a Taverne a long time, from one of Clocke in the after­noone, till Mid-night: in which space hee was growne very sufficiently drunke; at last, taking his leave of his Com­rades (the Skie beeing [Page 207] almost as darke as pitch) so that Long was forced to grope and foote out his way, from the Burrow of Southwarke to the Thames, to take a Boat: and as hee past from St. Margarets Hill, through a way which is called the Dead mans place: wherein there are certaine Posts driven to keepe the Carts from the Foote-way. But Long came stumbling, and blun­dring a good pace, and withall ranne his face and breast against one of the Posts, which hee taking to be a man, up with his fist and strooke the Post, and [Page 208] with the blow broke his knuckles; whereat he was more angry, and running violently to strike another blow, the Post repulst him so stiffely, that Long stag­gard backward, and fell into a Ditch that was be­hinde him: in which Ditch there was a little dirty soft Mud, (for the water was at that time ebb'd out) Long being thus laid in a soft Bed, one Nicholas Bennet, that dwelt neare the Banke-side, a Needle-maker by trade, he came in stumbling Post haste the same way, and for want of eye-sight hee [Page 209] shoulderd the said Post so strongly, that hee was made to recoyle in that manner, that hee fell back­ward into the Ditch also, and as hap was, hee fell up­on Long, who supposing that he that assaulted him upon the way, had like­wise pursude him in the Ditch; hee started up and said, Thou Rogue, what wilt thou robbe or murther me, thou troublest me in my going home, thou threwest me into this Ditch; and dost thou follow me hither to doe mee a further mis­chiefe? and with that hee layes about him, and heate [Page 210] poore Bennet, who cryed out to him, Master Long, I doe know you well enough, as I am a Christian I fell in here against my will: I was driven in here by a Post that stands in the way, I pray you hold your hands, for I knew not of your being here in the Ditch: My name is Nick Bennet, a Needle-maker. Upon which words the Battle was ended, and as they fell in and out Post, they grew friends, and groap'd the way to bed by leisure.

3.

ANother that had been late at Foxe-catching, was going (or intending) home to his Lodging, the Moone being at the full, shining very bright, so that the shadow of a Signe-Post lay crosse the Gentlemans way, that hee by no meanes could stride over: (for hee imagined the shadow to bee a high Raile) whereat he offered, by lifting up his legge to get over, but could not lift high enough; all this while the host of the house [Page 212] (that was the owner of the Inne and the Signe) stood in the shade of his doore, and noted what danger the Gentleman was in, and stood closely smiling to himselfe; but at last the o­ther espy'd him, and ask'd him what hee was, and who kept that house, that had dared to be so bold as to raile up the streetes, to debarre Gentlemen of of their passage in the Night, to their Lodgings: and withall he would know what Signe was o­ver his head, and to whom it belonged? To whom the Man answered, Sir, [Page 213] I am a man; I keep not the house, but the house keepes mee; I have not Raild up the streetes, but you have Reeld in the streetes: and whereas you would know what Signe it is, to tell you the truth Sir, it is the Gray-hound in Southwarke; but to speake more properly, It is a Signe that you are Drunke.

And now I am in the Moone-shine, I remem­ber a tricke or two more of the same kind: for once there stood a May-pole in the Strand, which had the shadow of it cast quite [Page 214] thwart the streete, which a drunken gallant being double-sighted, supposed to bee a broad ditch, over which hee could not pos­sibly get, till at last hee wittily threw his Cloake over the shadow, and af­ter that hee threw his sword; and then going backe againe some dozen or twenty steppes, hee fetch't a Runne, and rann [...] with such great advan­tage, that hee valiantly, and fortunately Leaped cleane over the May-pole dith Shadow, swea­ring that hee would com­plaine to the Justices

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