The eighth vvonder of the vvorld, or Coriats escape from his supposed drowning With his safe arriuall and entertainment at the famous citty of Constantinople; and also how hee was honourably knighted with a sword of King Priams. With the manner of his proceeding in his peregrination through the Turkish territories towards the antient memorable citty of Ierusalem. By Iohn Taylor.

THE EIGHTH VVONDER OF THE WORLD, OR CORIATS ESCAPE from his supposed drowning.

WITH HIS SAFE ARRIVALL AND entertainment at the famous Citty of Constantinople; And also how hee was honourably Knighted with a sword of King PRIAMS.

WITH The manner of his proceeding in his peregrination through the Turkish Territories towards the antient memorable Citty of IERVSALEM.

By IOHN TAYLOR.

Printed at 〈◊〉 neere Coleman hedge, and at are to bee sold at the signe of the nimble Traueller 1613.

To the Mighty, Magnificent, Potent, and Powerfull Knight, Sir Thomas Parsons, (alias) Pheander, (alias) Knight of the Sunne, Great Champion to Apollo, Palatine of Ph • ebus, Sword-bearer to Sol, Tilter to Tytan, Housekeeper to Hiperion, and heire apparant to the inuisible kingdome of the Fairies: your deuoted Votary, IOHN TAYLOR, wisheth your Worshits wisedomes Longitude, Latitude, Altitude, and Craslitude may increase aboue the Ridiculus multitude of the most en • ment Stal •••• of this latter age. TO thee braue knight, who from the Delphian God ••• e I • on •••• ate these famous Acts of Odcomb: To thee alone, and vnto none but thee, For Patronage my toyling Muse doth flee. I gaue my drowning Coriat vnto Archy, And with his • ure escape to thee now march 1, Not doubting but thou wilt in kindnesse take These lines thus writ, for his, and thy, deere sake. If thou in kindnesse wilt accept this taske, Hereafter I will better things vn-caske, And make the world thy worth to glory at In greater measure then at Coriat. Il'e mount thee vp in • urse past Charles his Waine, Il'e make the Mocue Endimion to disdaine, Il'e write in euer-deering lines thy fame. As farre as Phoebus spreades his glorious flame. Il'e make thee pluckestorne Saturne by the Chaps, And braue great Ioue amids his thunder-clappes. Il'e cause thy praises t'eclipt the God as Armes, Il'e wake Donia Venus yeeld to loues alarmes. The nimble Mercury shall be thy • oot-mad, Is thou wilt grace my lines: therefore lo i • too't man. But if to patronize into thou dost scorne, 'Twere better then thou neuer hadst been borne: For 'gainst disdaine my Muses oneli p • t • s. To write with Gall, com ••• t with Aqua-lottis: And Vinegar, and Salt, and Sublimation. Which where it falles will'c • rtch & s • all: probatum. Then at thou lou'st the Fairy Queene thine Aunt, Daine to touchsafe this poore and triuiall graunt: Then I thy Poet will with how Subiection, Proceed to write Tom Coriats Resurrection. Yours euer wh 〈…〉 shall perseuer in your 〈◊〉 , JOHN TAYLOR.

To the knowing Reader.

NOw sir, it is a common customary vse in these times, to salute you with somewhat; as Honest, Kinde, Curteous, Louing, Friendly, or Gentle: but all these Epithites are ouer-worne, and doe, as it were, stinke of the fusty garbe of Antiquity. Besides, if I should come vpon you with any of these claw-backetearmes, I might chance to belye you. But if your kinde disposition doe merit to bee called kinde, I pray let me finde it in your fauourable censure. Some will (perhaps) dislike that I do dedicate my bookes to Archy, and Sir Thomas, and such like: To them I answere, that my subiect beeing altogether foolish, I were very absurd to thinke that any wise man would be my Patron: And it were mere folly for me to make a hotch-potch, in seeking to compound wisedome and folly together. But howsoeuer thou esteemest it, it thrusts it selfe into thy view; wherin (if thou beest not too much drowned in Melancholy) thou wilt shew thy teeth (if thou hast any) with laughing. And as my lines are somewhat defective in their shape, so I pray thee, do not hacke them, nor hew them with thy stammering, to make them worse, nor Buzzard-blast them with thy calumniating mewes, tushes, and scuruyes. Thus leaning thee to thy selfe, and my selfe vnto thee, I remaine thine as thou respects me,

Iohn Taylor.

The cause of the contention betwixt sir Thomas the Scholer, and Iohn the Sculler. A Pamphlet printed was the Sculler nam'd, Wherein Sir Thomas much my writing blam'd; Because an Epigram therein was written, In which he said he was •• pt, gal'd and bitten. He frets, he sumes, he rages and exclaimes, And vowes to rouye me from the Riuer Tham •• . Well, I to make him some amends for that, Did write a Booke was cal'd Laugh and be fat: In which hee said I wrong'd him ten times more, And made him madder then he was before. Then did he storme, and chase, and sweare, and ban, And to superiour powers a maine he ran, Where he obtain'd Laugh and be fat's confusion, Who all were burnt, and made a hot conclusion. Then after that, when rumour had him drown'd, (The newes whereof my vexed Muse did wound) I writ a letter to th'Elizian coast, T'appeale his angry wrong incensed Ghost. The which my poore inuention then did call, Odcomhs Complaint, or Coriats Funerall. But since true newes is come, he scap'd that danger, And through hot Sun-burnt Asia is a ranger. Has raising from the dead I thought to write, To please my selfe, and giue my friends delight:

The Worlds eighth Wonder, Or Coriats Reuiuing. LO I the man whose Muse did lately forage, Through wind, and sea with dreadlesse dantlesse corage, And to the life, in hodg podge rime exprest, How Odcomb Coriat was great Neptunes guest. How Thetis sweetely lul'd him in her lappe, And (at her darling) fed the Barne with pappe, How big mouth'd AEol storm'd, and puft, and blew, And how both wind, and Seas with all their crew Were pleas'd & displeas'd, tumbled, rag'd and tost, The Gamers glad, and mad were they that lost. These tedious taskes my toyling Muse hath run, And what she did, for Coriats sake was dun. Shee hath transported him to Bossoms Inne, Where in a Basket he hath hanged bin: Shee hath inuoul'd him in the hungry deepe, In hope to leaue him in eternall sleepe: Yet hauing hang'd him first, and after drown'd him, My poore laborious Muse againe hath found him. For 'tis her duty still to waite and serue him Although the Fates should hang, or drowne, or sterue him. The fatall sisters serue his turne so pat, That sure he hath more liues then hath a Cat. Alcide • neuer past so many dangers As he hath done, amongst his friends, and strangers, Her •• , through all his actions with such ease, As Hogs eate Acorns, or as Pidgeons Pease. There's nothing in the world can him disgrace, Not beeing beaten in a lowzy case: Nor Trunks, nor Puncks, nor stocks, nor mocks, nor moes, Not being made an Asse in Rime and Prose: Nor hanging, drowning, casting, nor the blanquet, These honours all are his, the God • be thanked. BVt now me-thinkes some curious itching eare, Doth long some sportiue newes of him to heare. For being in the Ocean buried vnder, And now aliue againe, 'tis more then wonder: But how these wondrous wonders came to passe, I (as I can) will tell you how it was. VVHen first this mirrour 'mongst a world of Nations, (This great ingroser of strange obseruations) Was bound for Constantones braue noble Citty, Then he (who is Wit-all, or else all witty) Whose vigilance lets no aduantage slip, Embarked was in a tall proued Ship Of London, the Samaritan she hight, Now note the fore-cast of this famous wight The Ship he onely for her name did chuse In detestation of the faithlesse Iewes: For why the Iewes and the Samaritans, Did hate as Christians, Anti-Christians. Yet I suppose his spight to them did spring, For I thinke what, and now I'le name the thing. In his full fiue months strange perambulation, Hee was in danger of that peruerse Nation. For they by wrongfull force, would haue surpriz'd him, T'excoriat Coriat, and t'haue Circumcis'd him. This dreadfull terrour of his Lady ware, I gesse the cause the Iewes he hatred bate. How-euer was his intricate intent, In the Samaritan to sea he went: And eare-abusing false intelligence, Said he was drown'd in Neptunes residence. Thus false report did make mee much mistake: For which a faire recanting mends I'le make. My greiued Mine hath euer since his drowning, Beene ve • e with sorrow and continuall swowning: But now she's all attired with mirth and gladnesse, The Lye was good that made her sicke with sadnesse. KNow therefore Readers, whatso'ere you are: That this great Britaine braue Oucombyan starre: Was tost on Neptunes rough remorcelesse waues: Where each man look'd for timelesse brinish graues: For Eolus vnlock'd his vaulted Center, And 'gainst the Sea-God did in Armes aduenter With winds vniayled came at vnawares, And greene-fac'd Neptune with defiance dares With all his watry Regiments to fight Or yeeld this matchles, worthlesse, wondrous •• ight. The great humidious Monarke, tel's him plaine, 'Twere best he iog'd from his commanding Mayne: And with his troupes of homelesse, rouing slaues: Go hide him in the earths imprison'd Caues: And not disturbe him in his Regall Throne, For hee would keepe Tom Coriat, or else none. Then Eol gan his windy wrath to vent: And swore by Stix that Neptune should repent This balky high audacious insolence, Against his powerfull great magnificence. Then Triton, sounded, the alarme was giuen, That from bels bottome to the skirts of heauen: The repercussiue echoes of his sounding With dreadfull relaps backe againe redounding, Then, then Robustious swolne cheek'd Boreas blasts, Teares, riues, and shiuers, Tacklins, Sailes, and Masts: In totter'd fragments all in peices shatred Which heere and there confusedly lay scatter'd. These hurly burly stormes and tempests tumbling With dire amazing Thunder-thumping rumbling. The mounting billowes, like great mountaines rise, As if they ment to drowne the lofty skies. Then downe they fall to the Tartarian deepe, As if the infernall Fiends they ment to steepe: That sure (I gesse) a greater gust was neuer, Since Inna did AEnea's ruine endeuour. The Kingly Sea-God (to auoide more harmes) Caught Coriat (the cause of these Alarmes.) And so his boisterous windy foe depriu'd, And home through worlds of flouds amaine he diu'd. But awfull loue to his Imperiall spheare These grieuous garboiles chanced for to heare: And to his brother Neptune downe he sends The wing heel'd Mercury with these commends: To thee thou watry great commanding Keasar. I come from heauens Maiesticke mighty Caesar: Commanding thee by thy fraternall loue, That from thy Coasts thou presently remoue The man thou lately took'st, the worlds sole wonder, Or else hel'e rouze thee with distracting Thunder: And therefore, as Ioues friendship thou dost tender, To safe arriuall see thou dost him render: Whilst Mayes sonne his message thus did tell, A fury, like a Post-knight, came from hell; And from th'infernall King of blacke Auer •• , These words he vtter'd (which doth much concerne vs) From Acheronticke, Phlegetonticke waues, Thy brother Pluto thus much friend-ships craues: Thou wilt send Coriat downe with him to raigne, And hee'le send thee as good a thing againe, For Proserpins his illustrious Pheare, Of him, and his aduentures chanc'd to heare: Because a Gentleman vshe • d she doth want, To haue him Pluto begs thy friendly grant. The Marine Monarke answeres, thus it is: You Nuntius from our Brethren Ioue and Dis: Know such a mortall is within my power, Imprison'd close in • hetis siluer Bower: I did surprise him midst a thousand toiles Of warres; of iarres, of bloudy banefull broiles: My high-borne brother Ioue hath hither sent, Commanding sue that I incontia • nt Do safely set this new-found man a land. And I from Pluto further vnderstand. That he would haue him • o Creuan Coast, Where he and C • ne • daughter rules the coast. First therefore I in wisedome hold it best To yeeld vnto the mighty Ioues request: And on the Grecian coast Il'e safely place him, Where he may wander where his fortune trace him. These messengers thus answer'd were dit ••• ist, And Neptune did to land his guest persist: But now all hell was in an expectation For Coriats comming making preparation. The Stigian Ferri-man on S • xes shore, Did waite with diligence to wast him o're, And hels three-headed Porter sweetely sung For ioy, that all the Coasts of Limbo rung With howling Musickes, dambe despightfull notes, From out his triple Chaps, and treble throates. Ixion from the tortring wheele was eas'd, And pining Tantall was with Iunkets pleas'd, And further, 'twas commanded, and decreed; The Gripe no more on Titius gu •• should feed. The nine and forty wenches, water filling In Tub • vnbottom'd which was euer spilling: They all had leaue, to leaue their endlesse toiles, To dance, sing, sport, and to keepe reuell coiles. Three forked Hecate to mirth was prone, And Sisiphus gaue or'e the restlesse stone. All, in conclusion had free leaue to play, And for Tom Coriats sake make holiday. Thus all blacke Barrathrum is fil'd with games, With lasting bone-fires, casting sulphur-flames. In Vse'rers skuls the molten gold they quaffe, And skink, and drink, and wink, and stinke, and laffe. But when the Post was come and told his Tale, Then all this sport was turn'd to banefull bale. Grim Pluto storm'd, and Proserpina mourn'd And tortur'd Ghosts, to torments were return'd. THe Sea-God (carefull of great Ioues high hest) To great Constantinople brought his guest: Where (nothing that may honour him omitting) His entertainement to his slate was fitting: There in all pleasure he himselfe disports Conuersing daily with such braue consorts. As Turkes, and Tartars, Englishmen, and Greekes, That he thinkes ages yeares, and yeares but weekes That's wasted in this rare time stealing chat, All his delight's in nothing else but that. But his high honour further to relate, I'le sing the new aduancement of his state. Some English Gentlemen with him consulted, And hee as nat'rally with them constulted: Where they perceiuing his deserts were great. They striu'd to mount him into honours seate: And being found of an vnmatched spright, He there was double dub'd a doughty Knight. Rise vp sir Thomas, worship'd maist thou be Of people all (that are as wise as thee.) Now rap't with ioy, my Muse must needs record How he was knighted with a royall sword: But into what a puzzell now got I am? They say it was the Bilbo of King Priam. The fatall blade which he in sury drew, When in reuenge the Mirmidons he slew. Impell mel vengeance for great Heclers bane, Who by Achiles faire foule-play was slaine. That sword that mow'd the Grecians like a sithe: That sword that made victorious Troyans blithe. That sword, that through so many dangers rub'd, That famous sword hath Monsieur Coriat dub'd. What though 'twas rusty? spight of cankerd rust, The memory of honour liues in dust. 'Twas no disgrace it was so rusty ship'd, It had (like Coriat) many a scow • ing scap'd. BVt 'mongst the rest, this must not bee forgot, How hee did from Constantinople trot, And how a solemne counsell there decreed, That he should trauell in a Grecian weede. To this (for his owne safety) they do wo him. Because the language is so nat'rall to him. And then besp • ke a sober sage wise fellow, (When wine had made them all, in generall mellow) Take heed quoth he, I counsell you beware That of your selfe you haue a speciall care You be not taken for a French-man, for The Turkes in these parts do the French abhor, Since Godfrie • time, that braue bold Bullen Duke, Who put them all to shame and rough rebuke. And made the Sarasins by Millions bleed And holy Toombe, from faithlesse fiends he sited. Wherefore (quoth he) in friendship I aduise you T'auoid suspect 'twere best we Circumcise you: And then you freely may through perils passe Despight the Turks, so like a Grecian Asse No man with Lonxes eies will deeme you other, And thus you safely may suspicion smother. Sir Thomas gaue this fellowes speech the hearing, But told him 'twas too heauy for his hearing: For why, fall backe, fall edge, come good, come all. Hee vow'd to keepe his fore-mans fore-skin still. This resolution was no sooner spoken, The friendly counsell was dismist and broken. Where after leaue was tane twixt him and them, He tooke his iourney toward Ierusalem: And what hee can observe twixt morne and night, With due obseruance hee doth daily write, That, if my iudgement be not much mistooke, An Elephant will scarce support his booke. For he in fiue months built a paper hulke, And this must bee ten times of greater bulke, •• Paule-Church-yard, lonely pitty thee, Thou onely thou, shalt most encumbred bee: Thou from the Presse art prest to be opprest: With many a fat-fetch'd horne-brought Odcomb iest. But yet I know the Stationeri are wise, And well do know wherein the dangers lies: For to such inconuenience they'le not enter: But suffers Coriat to abide th'aduenter: Because his Gyant volume is so large, The'le giue sir Thomas leaue to beare the charge. That man is mad who changes gold for drosse, And so were they to buy a certaine losse: Let him that got and bore the Barne still breed it, And nurse, dis burse, and soster, cloth, and seede it. THus hath my Muse (as fortune her alloted) Both run and tid, and gallop • , •• ble • , trotted To skies, and seas, and to blacke hell below In seruile duty that my loue doth owe. My captiue thoughts like trully seruants to him, Striue how they any way may seruice do him. To serue his turne like Prentices they gree, loue send Sir Thomas home to make them free.

Epilogue to Sir Thomas Coriat vpon his name. VVHy haue I spent my time thus Coriat? Wherefore on thy leud lines thus pore I at? Why like an Ideot foole adore—I at Thy workes? which wisedome will not glory at At no place euer was before—I at Where wonders vpon wonder more—I at With pen, insteed of Lance, now gore—I at Thy Odcomb foppery now hore—I at At thy prides altitude, now sore—I at Thou art the Theame I write my—story at If ought besell me to be—sory at Hard-hearted fate 'gainst thee then rore—I at

Vpon his bookes name, called his Crudities. TOm Coriat, I haue seene thy Crudities, And, me-thinkes, very strangely brude it is, VVith peece and patch together glude it is, And how (like thee) ill-fauour'd hu'de it is, In many a line I see that lew'd—it is, And therefore fit to be subdew'd—it is, VVithin thy broyling braine-pan stude—it is, And twixt thy grinding iawes well chewd it is, VVithin thy stomacke closely mude—it is, And last in Court and Country spude—it is, But now by wisedomes eye that view'd it is, They all agree that very rude—it is, With soolery so full endu'de—it is, That wondrously by sooles pursu'de it is, As sweete as gals amaritude it is, And seeming full of Pulchtitude—it is, But more to write but to intrude—it is, And therefore wisedome to conclude—It is,

A Simile for his Learning. THe lushious Grape of Bacchus heating Vine, When it to ripe maturity is sprung, Is prest, and so conuerted into wine, Then clos'd in Caske most tight at head and bung: For if by chance, it chanceth to take vent: It spils the wine in colour, strength, and sent. Eu'n so thy Latin, and thy Greeke was good Till in thy musty Hogges-head it was put: And Odly there Commixed with thy bloud, Not wisely kept, not well nor tightly shut: That of the Caske it tastes so, I assure thee, That sew (or none) can (but in sport) endure thee.

My Fare-well to him. Now Curiat, I with thee haue euer done, My Muse vnto her iournies and hath wonne: My first Inuentions highly did displease thee, And these my last are written to appeale thee: I wrought these great Herculean workes to win thee, Then if they please thee not the soole's within thee: VVhat next I write, shall better be or none, Do thou let me, and I'le let thee alone. But if thou seem'st to rub a galled sore, Vindict •• vengeance makes all Hell to rore. FINIS.