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Whimzies: OR, A NEW CAST OF CHARAC­TERS.

Nova, non nota delectant.

LONDON, Printed by F. K. and are to be sold by Ambrose Rithirdon at the signe of the Bulls­head in Pauls Church-yard. 1631.

TO HIS MVCH HONORED FRIEND, Sir Alexander Radcliffe, the accomplishment of his no­blest Wishes.

SIR,

SOme have I heard affirme, (but more tari­ly, I hope, then truly) that to bee a Knight and a Scholler, was the Mirror of Knight­hood: howsoever the Tenet hold, sure I am, that you are [Page] this Mirror. Being as you are ennobled by des [...]ent, so ena­bled by desert; a patron to the le [...]rned professant, and in all le [...]ing a [...]ich proficient. This i [...] was, and this onely, which first induc'd me, con­trarie to that native di [...]posi­tion everbred in me, so free­ly to tender my selfe to the knowledge of you; and which hath ever since stam­ped in mee so deepe an im­pression of you. Let others affect your Title, while I live to honour your selfe. The generous and free goodnesse of your minde, is my object, than which it is not possible to treate of a more attractive subject. This [Page] is to bee incomparably va­lued above any outward good. Let this serve for the prelude, not to delude you, for you are wiser; but to expresse my selfe really un­to you, whose noble s [...]c­cesse I doe intimately ten­der. You may bee pleased to remember that at my last entercourse with you, it was my promise upon a precedent purpose to ad­dresse some small memori­all to publike view under your Name, in lieu of those many respects which I beare you. Which promises, I must ingenuously conf [...]sse, (as in this kinde, so in all o­thers justly grounded) it [Page] hath beene ever my course religiously to observe. For in comming short of per­formance in what wee pro­mise, argues either a preci­pitate rashnesse in the pro­miser, or inconstancie in his resolves, or forgetfulnesse in what he undertakes. It is recommended unto us by authenticke storie, that it was the usuall observation both of a Roman Emperor, and of an English Monarch, never to promise any thing but what they registred and set downe with their owne hands: which rule requi­reth imitation even of in­ [...]eriours. An Expression whereof I have here made [Page] in the tender of this Alpha­beticall gradation of Cha­racters, to your generous & ingenious veiw. Neither (indeede) without a precee­ding ground of reason did I make choyse of this Subject. For howsoever the argu­ment may seeme much bet: yet in my opinion may it bee much bettered both in style and substance. Many Characters (I confesse) have beene published both in former times, when the ig­norance of the age could scarcely render the ambi­guitie of the word: as like­wise in these more refined times of ours, wherein, as in habit and attyre, so in dis­courses [Page] of this nature, no­thing but rarities (bee they never so light) can afford delight. But to give them their true and native Chara­cter, they relished more of Aphorisme. than Character. For to suite them with their approvedst and reten­tivest title, what else are Characters but stampes or im­pressures, noting such an es­peciall place, person, or of­fice; and leaving such a marke or cognizance upon it, as the conceit may nei­ther taste of too much lightnesse; nor the cloze of so wittie an observance leave too much bitternesse, nor the whole passage or [Page] series incline to too much dulnesse? Truth is, he that should strive in each parti­cular, either for Style or Sub­ject, to please the various palats of all men, would prove an excellent Taylour to fashion this age; & might in time make a Coate for the Moone. Strong lines have beene inrequest; but they grew disrelishing, be­cause they smelled too much of the Lampe and o­pinionate singularitie. Clin­chings likewise were held nimble fl [...]shes; but affect [...] ­tion spoyl'd all, and disco­vered their levitie.

Characterisme holds good concurrence, and runn [...]s [Page] with the smoothest current in this age; so it bee not wrapp'd up in too much am­biguitie. Hee writes best, that affects least; and effects most. For such as labor too intentively to please them­selves, they for most part make it their labour to please none but themselves. This hath beene ever my maxime, that singularitie and affectation are Antypodes to Iudgem [...]nt and Discre [...]ion. Selfe-opinion mak's a mans selfe his owne Minion. He is the true Embleme of Narcissus, and doates more on his owne shadow, then an others substance. But I will not looke too much on [Page] these Glo-wormes; they are soiles to the purest paper: leaving their spongie La­bours to the worst of cen­sure. For these few dige­sted papers, (wherein you shall too highly prize mee, if at vacant and retyred houres you daigne onely to peruse mee) I dare confi­dently avouch, you shall finde me to have preferred the pi [...]h before the rinde, and caused the Maid to at­tend upon her Mistrisse. My provision was how to fur­nish the maine building: for other ornaments or im­bellishments of art, they tendered themselves; they were not much sought af­ter. [Page] Now it resteth that this Character or token (for so the word may import) of my true zeale, unto your Noble selfe, retaine that impression in you, which he retaines that honours you. These are more lasting me­morialls than materiall jewels, and to the judici­ous more imcomparably pretious. The richest Ca­binet is the minde; the trea­sures thereof purer than the Oare of any Mine. which when wee commu­nicate to our friend, wee make him really ours, wee enfeoffe him in ours; yea, wee incorporate him [Page] in us, and make him indi­vidually ours. So may we ever bee, till I surcease to bee

Clitus-Alexandrinus.

To the equall Reader.

CHaracters in this age, may be pro­perly resembled to Squibbs or Crackers; they give a Cracke and a Flash, and so dye: Or to passing faire faces, but ill-fauoured; at which the more we looke, the [...] we like. Or to raw and ill-drest meat, which procures in the longing appetite a loa­thing; being to be egested long before it come to bee dige­sted, [Page] Or to the growth of Mu­shrom's, who no sooner florish than perish: Or to the first flourishes of trees, whose bloomes and blossomes are so tende [...], as they cannot repell the violent distemper of any Weather. Thus ev [...]ry post displaies their post [...]re. But here be fruits (Equall Reader, for so I would have thee) of former setting, deeper rooting and lon­ger promising. If thou beest ig­norant, here is an A. B. C. for thee, in this Table Alphabe­ticall. If solid, here are plenty of passages, moving and ma­teriall. What is wanting then but thy equall acceptance? In confidence whereof, CLITVS will retire, to call forth this Iu­ry, [Page] which consists of foure and twenty; but neither so good men nor true as the State would have them.

WHIMZIES: OR, A NEW CAST OF CHARACTERS.

1. An Almanack-maker

IS an annuall Author, no lesse constant in his M [...]thod then ma [...]r; enlarging his yeerely Edition with a figure or cipher. He cites as familiarly, as if they were his familiars, Euclid, [Page 2] Ptolomi [...], Ticho-Brache, &c. But▪ beleeve it, many have spoke of Robin Hood, that never shot in his bow. Hee scrapes acquaintance of a fortu [...]ate gentleman, one [...], whom he erron [...] ­ously takes for brother of that feigned knight Parismus; whose name hee interprets to bee, Bo [...]i ominis captatio, whereof he him­selfe for his part, was never capa­ble. Horizons, Hemisphear [...]s, Ho­roscopes, Apogaeum's, Hypogae­um's, Perigaeum's, Astrolabes, Cycles, Epicycles are his usuall dialect; yet I am pe [...]swaded they may bee something to eate, for ought he knowes. His frequent repetition of Mazzaroth, [...], Orion, and the Pleiades▪ pro­claime him highly versed in the astrologicall [...] of Io [...], whom he resembles in a Paralell line of Poverty, rather than pa­tience. [Page 3] Hee ha's the true situation and just proportion of the p [...]inci­pall Angles or houses of the Hea­ven or Firmament: yet can hard­ly pay house rent for his ow [...]e. Forty shillings is his yeerely pen­sion upon every impression: but his vailes are meaner, unlesse he have the Art for stolen goods to cast a figure: wherein, trust me, hee h [...]'s a prety smattering. He walks in the Clouds, and prates as fa­miliarly of the in [...]luence of the Moone, as if h [...]e had b [...]ene the man that was in her. Hee would make you beleeve he [...] had a smacke of Poetry, by the verses which hee [...]ixeth above every moneth, but doe not credit him, hee is guiltlesse of that art: onely some stolen shreads he hath [...]aked out from the ken­n [...]ll of other Authors, which most [...] hee assumes to [Page 4] himselfe, and makes an addita­ment to his Labours. Whole Summer nights long hee lyes on his backe, as if hee were mell­dew'd or Planet-strucke, gazing on the starrie gallerie: and would make you believe that hee knew the names and markes of all the Oxen that draw Charles waine. Hee talkes much of the 12. Signes, yet I am confident, that one might perswade him that the Cardinals hat, or Sarazens head were one of them. He keeps a terrible quar­ter with his Iacobs staffe, which he conjectures was first found at Ia­cobs Well; as his erring Erra pa­ter informes him: for other Cabals hee disclaimes them. The Memo­rable work of co [...]veying the N [...]w River from Ware to London▪ was the issue of his braine, if you may believe him: yea, he will tell you, the state is much engaged to his [Page 5] notions. He ha' [...] some small scru­ple of Physitian in him, and can most Empyrically discourse of the s [...]ate of your Body: but had he st [...]re of Patients, hee would slaughter more than a Pest [...]lence. He ha's a little judgement in your Chris [...]: and which is best season for [...]: yet hee knowes not, whether Phlebotomie bee a man or a woman. Not a high­w [...]y m [...]n in Europe can direct you better in the Roade: all which he ha's by instira [...]ion, for he scarce ever [...] out of smoke o' [...]h Citie. He ha's excellent observa­tions for planting, plo [...]ng, set­ting, sowing▪ with other [...]xperi­mentall rule [...] of [...], yet never was Master of [...] Plough in all his ti [...]e. Ce [...]taine (but most [...]) g [...]erall Notions hee [...] of t [...]e seas [...]ns of weathers, which hee express [...]th in such [Page 6] strange and unbaptized language, as like the Delph [...]an sword, it may cut either way. About four a clock at night (saith he) which may as soone fall out at foure a clocke i'th morning for ought he know's, there will fall some mizling, driz­ling drops, with some whistling, rustling windes, &c. all which he findes out of the depth of Art. He professeth some skill in palmi­stry; wherein trust me, the Gip [...]ies do farre out-strippe him: poring on the table of your hand, hee fetcheth a deepe sigh, thinking of his owne unfurnish'd Table at home, than which none can bee barer. And examining the lines of your Table, he alwayes findes his owne to be most ominous. Hee shewes himselfe deeply read in antiquitie, by the artlesse draught of his threed-bare Chronologie; and imps his illiterate worke, for [Page 7] want of better s [...]uffe, with a trite discourse of weights and mea­sures: most ponderously dividing them into Troy and Aver depois: where hee findes his owne gold still too light by many graines for either scale. His Cage (or Studie if you please) is hung about with Moath-eaten Mappes, Orbes, Globes, Perspectives; with which hee can worke wonders. His shelves for want of authors, are subully inter-woven with Spiders Ca [...]les, which hee makes the stu­pid vulgar beleeve, are pure E­lixirs extracted from the influence of the Moone. It is the height of his ambition to aspire to the credit of a Blanke Almanack.; upon which election hee holds himselfe a [...] Author. If famous, he seldome dies; for some [...]iour Artist will assume to himselfe his name. But if he die, an other Phoe­nix-like, [Page 8] will bee forth with raked out of his ashes. His death makes him in this infinitely happy; It is not b [...]tter to him in respect of his su [...]stance: And in this onely hee expresseth hi [...]e a Scholer; He d [...]es poore. In a word, this may be his comfort, he leaves his kin­dred in a settled and composed peace: for they neede not fall by the eares together for his goods. That which he long discoursed of but understood not (I meane his Clymactericall yeare) ha's now attach'd hi [...]: And so ends his perpetuall A [...]nack.

2. A Ballad-monger

IS the ignominious ni [...]kname of a penu [...]ious poet of [...]hom he partakes in no [...]g but in pover­tie. [Page 9] His straine (in my opinion) would sort best with a [...]unerall Elegie, for hee writes most pit­tifully. Hee ha's a singular gift of imagination, for hee can descant on a mans exec [...] long before his confession. Nor comes his In­vention farre short of his Imagi­nation; for want of truer r [...]lati­ons, for a neede he can finde you out a Sussex Dragon, some Sea or Inland monster, drawne out by some Shoelane man in a Go [...]n­like feature, to enforce more hor­ror in the beholder. Hee ha's an excellent facultie in this; Hee ha's one tune in store that will indiffe­rently serve for any ditty. H [...] [...] your onely man in request [...]or Christmas Carols. His workes are lasting-pasted monuments u [...]on the insides of Country Ale­houses, w [...] they may [...] without expence of a fa [...]ing: [Page 10] which makes their thirstie Author crie out in this manner, if he have so much Latin:

Quò licuit chartis, nō licet ire mihi.

He stands much upon Stan­za's, which halt and hobble as l [...]mely as th [...]t one legg'd Ca [...]tor that sings them: It would doe a mans heart good to see how twinne-like hee and his songman couple. Wits of equal size, though more holding vailes befall the voyce. Now you shall see them (if both their stockes aspire to that strength) droppe into some blinde Alehouse, where these two naked Uirginians will call for a great potte, a toast, and a pipe. Where you may imagine the first and last to be only called for out of an humour; but the midst out of meere necessitie, to allay hun­ger. Yet to see how they will hug, hooke, and shrugge over these [Page 11] materials in a Chimney corner (O Polyhymnia) it would make the Muses wonder! But now they are parted: and Ste [...]tor ha's fitted his Batillus with a Subject: wher­on hee vowes to bestow better Lines than ever stucke in the Gar­land of good will. By this time with botches and old ends, this Ballad­Bard ha's expressed the Quintes­sence of his Genius, extracted from the muddie spirit of Bottle-Ale and froth. But all is one for that; his 'rinkilo must have it, if he wil [...] come to his price, yet before hee have it, it must suffer the Presse. By this, N [...]ck Ballad ha's got him a Quarterne of this new Impressi­on; with which hee mounts Hol­borne as merry as a Carter; and takes his stand against some emi­nent Bay-win [...]ow; where he ven [...]s his stuffe. Hee needs not dance attendance; for in a trice you shall [Page 12] see him guarded with a Ianizarie of Cost rmongers, and Countr [...]y Gooselings: while his Nipps, I [...]s, Bungs and `Prina [...]o's, of whom he hol [...]s in fee, oft-times prevent the Lan yer, by diving too deepe into his Clients pocket; while h [...]e gives too deepe attention to this wo [...]derfull Bal [...]d. B [...]t stale Bal­la [...]-newes, like s [...]ale fish, when it beginnes to smell of the Pa [...]yer, are not for queas [...]e stomacks. You must therefore imagine, that by this time they are cashier'd the Cit [...]e and mu [...] now ride poast for the Countrey: where they are no lesse admir'd than a Gyant in a pageant: till at last they grow so common there too, as every poore Milk maid can chant and chirpe it under h [...]r Cow; which she useth as an harmelesse charme to make her let downe her milke. Now therefore you must suppose our [Page 13] facetious Ballad-monger, as one nectar-infused with some poetical Liquor, re-ascending the horse­hoof'd mount, and with a cuppe of sixe (for his token-pledge will bee taken for no more) hee pre­sum's to represent unto the world a new conceite, intitled; A pro­per new Ball [...]d, to the tune of Bra­gadeery round. Which his Chan­t [...]leere sings with varietie of ayres (having as you may suppose, an ins [...]rumētall Polyphon in the cra [...]e of his nose.) Now he [...] a n [...]urall Base, then a perpet [...]all Treble, and ends with a Counter­t [...]nure. You shall heare him feigne an artfull straine through the Nose, purposely to [...] uate into the attention of the purer brother-hood: But all in vaine; They blush at the [...] of this knave, and demurely passing by him, call him the lost childe. [Page 14] Now, for his Author, you must not take him for one of those pregnant criticke Suburbane wits, who make worke for the fidlers of the Citie. For those are more knaves, than fooles, but these quite contrary. In those you shall finde salt, sense, and verse; but in these none of all three. What then is [...]o bee expected from so sterile a Pernassian, where impudence is his best conductor, Ignorance his best Instructor, and Indigence his best Proctor? Shall we then close with him thus? Hee is constant in nothing but in his Clothes. He [...] casts his slough but against B [...]tholomew Faire: where hee may [...]asually e [...]danger the pur­chase of a cast suite: Else, trust me, hee is no shifter. In a word, [...]et his poo [...]e corpes a sheete to s [...]rowd them in at his dying, they [...] more than his [...]use could [Page 15] ever make him worth while hee was living.

3. A Corranto-coiner.

IS a State-Newes-monger; and his owne Genius is his intelli­gencer. His Mint goes weekely, and he coines monie by it. How­soeuer, the more intelligent mer­chants doe jeere him, the vulgar doe admire him, holding his No­vels oracular. And these are usu­ally se [...]t for Tokens or [...] Curtsies betwixt City and Countrey. Hee hol [...]s most con­stantly o [...]e fo [...]me or me [...]hod of disc [...]urse. He [...]etaines some mi­litarie words of art, which hee shoot [...]s at randome; no matt [...]r where they h [...]t, they cannot wound any. He ever leaves some [Page 16] passages doubtfull, as if they were some more intimate secrecies of state, clozing his sentence abrupt­ly,—With heereafter you shall heare more. Which words, I con­ceive, he o [...]ely useth as baites, to make the appetite of the Rea­der more eager in his next weeks pursuit for a more satisfying la­bour. Some generall-erring re­lations he pick [...]s up, as Crummes or fragments, from a frequented Ordinario: Of which shreads he shapes a Cote to fit any credu­lous foole that will weare it. You sh [...]ll never observe him make any reply in places of publike con­course; hee ingenuously acknow­ledges hims [...]lfe to bee more bounden to the happinesse of a retentive me [...]ory, than eyther ability [...]. or pregnancy of conceite. Hee carryes his Ta­ble-booke [...]ill about with him, [Page 17] but dares not pull it out publike­ly: yet no sooner is the Table drawne, than he turnes Notarie; by which meanes hee recovers the charge of his ordinarie. Paules is his Walke in Winter; Moor­fi [...]lds in Sommer. Where the whole discipline, designes, pro­jects, and exploits of the St [...]tes, Netherlands, Poland, Switzer, Crim chan and all, are within the Compasse of one Quadrangle walke most judiciously and pun­ctually discovered. But long he must not walke, lest hee make his N [...]wes-presse stand. Thanks to his good invention, he can collect much out of a very little: no mat­ter thou [...]h more experienc'd judgements disprove him; hee is Anonymo [...], & that wil secure h [...]m. To make his reports more credi­ble (or which he and his Statio­ner onely aymes at) more vendi­ble, [Page 18] in the relation of every oc­current: he renders you the day of the Moneth; and to approve himselfe a Scholler, he annexeth these Latine parcells, or parcell­gilt sentences, veteri Stylo, no­vo Stylo. Palisado's, Parapets, Counterscarfes, Forts, Fortresses, Rampiers, Bulwark's are his usual dialect. Hee writes as if he would doe some mischiefe; yet the charge of his shot is but paper. Hee will sometimes start i [...] his sleepe, as one affrighted with v [...]sions; which I can imp [...]te to no other cause but to the terrible skirmishes which h [...] discours'd of, in the day time. He ha's now tyed himselfe Apprentice to the trade of min­ting: and must weekly performe his taske, or (beside the losse w [...]ich accrues to himselfe) he dis­appoi [...]ts a number of no small fooles, whose discourse, discipline, [Page 19] and discretion is drill'd from his State service. These you shall know by their Mondai's morning Question, a little before Exchange time; Stationer have you any newes. Which they no sooner purchase than peruse; and early by next morning (lest their Coun­trey friend should bee depri­ved of the benefit of so rich a prize) they freely vent the sub­stance of it, with some illustrati­ons, if their understanding can furn sh them that way. He would make you beleeve that hee were knowne to some forraine intelli­gence, but I hold him the wisest man that hath the least faith to beleeve him. For his relations he stands resolute, whether they be­come approved or evinced for untruths; which if they bee, hee ha's contr [...]cted with his face ne­ver to blush for the matter. Hee [Page 20] holds especiall concurrence with two philosophicall sects, though hee bee ignora [...]t of the T [...]nets of either: in the collection of his ob­servations he is Pe [...]ipateticull, for hee walkes circularly: in the di­g [...]stion of his relations he is Stoi­call, and sits regularly. Hee ha's an Alph [...]beticall Table of all the chiefe Commanders, Generals, Leaders, provinciall Townes, Ri­vers, Ports, Creekes, with other fitting materials to furnish his imaginary building. Whisperings, mu [...]trings, & bare suppositions are suffici [...]nt grounds for the authori­tie of his relat [...]ons. It is strange to see with what greedinesse this ay­rie Chameleon being all lungs and winde, will swallow a receite of Newes, as i [...] it [...]ere physicall: yea, with [...]at frontlesse insinuation he will scrue himselfe i [...]to the ac­quaintance of some knowing In­telligencers, [Page 21] who trying the Cask by his hollow sound, do familiar­ly g [...]ll him. I am of opinion, were all his voluminous centuries of fa­bulo [...]s relations compiled, [...]hey [...]ould vye in number with the [...] of many fo [...]erunning ages. You shall many ti [...]es finde in his [...], Pasquils▪ & Corranto's miserable di [...]ractions; here a City taken by force, long before it bee besieged; there a Countrey laid wa [...]e before ever the enemie en­t [...]red. He many times tortures his R [...]ader with impertinencies: y [...]t are these the tolerablest p [...]ssages throughout all his discourse. He is the very Landskip of our age. He is all ayre; his eare alwayes open to all r [...]ports; which how incredi­ble soever, must passe for currant, and find vent, purpos [...]ly to get him currant money, and delude the vul­gar. Yet our best comfort is, his [Page 22] Chymera's live not long; a weeke is the longest in the Citie, and af­ [...]er their arrivall, little longer in the Countrey. Which past, they melt like Butter, or m [...]tch a pipe and so Burne. But ind [...]ede, most com­monly it is the height of their am­bition, to aspire to the imploy­ment of stopping mu [...]tard-pots, or wrapping up pepper, pouder, s [...]aves-aker, &c. which done, they [...]xpire. Now for his habit, Wap­ping and Longlane will give him his Character. Hee honours no­thing with a more indeered ob­servance, nor hugges ought with more intimacie than antiquitie, which hee expresseth even in his [...]. I have knowne some love fish best that smell'd of the panyer; and the like humour reignes in him, for hee loves that apparell best th [...]t ha's a taste o [...] the Brok [...]r. Some have held hi [...] [Page 23] for a Scholler, but trust m [...]e such are in a palpable errour, for hee never yet understood so much La­tine, as to construe Gallob [...]lgicus. For his Librarie, (his owne conti­nuations excepted) it consists of very few or no Bookes: he holds himselfe highly engaged to his in­ [...], if it can purchase him vi­ctuals, for Authors hee never con­verseth with them, unlesse they walke in P [...]les. For his discourse it is ordinari [...]: yet hee will make you a terrible repetition of desperate Commanders, unheard of exployts; intermixing with all his owne personall service. But this is not in all companies: for his experience hath sufficiently in­form'd him in this principle: That as nothing workes more on the simple than things strange and in­credibly rare; so nothing disco­vers his weaknesse more among [Page 24] the knowing and judicious, than to insist by way of discourse, on reports above conceite. [...] th [...]se therefore, hee is as mute as a fish. But now imagine his Lampe (if he be worth one) to be neer [...]ly burnt out; his inventing Genius, wear [...]d and surfoote with raun­ging over so many unk [...]owne Re­gions; and himsel [...]e wasted with the [...]ruitlesse expence of much pa­per, resig [...]ing his place of week­ly Collecti [...]ns to an other: whom in hope of some little share, h [...]e ha's to his Station [...]r recommen­ded, while he lives either poorely respected, or dyes mis [...]rably [...]us­pended. The rest I end with his owne cloze; next weeke you sh [...]ll heare more.

4 A Decoy

IS a brave metall'd Blade, as apt to take as to give. H [...]s morni [...]g preparative is, What sconce shall we build? Though he never bare office in the Ward where he lives, he ha's the word of a Constable, and can bid stand. He is a witty Hypocrit; for sometimes i [...] occasion serve, he can play the civill Div [...]ll, and cou [...]terfeite a demure [...]. He will cloze with you in any [...]r­gument out of a pregnant-prese [...]t conceite: s [...] as hee would make one [...] he had the Eleme [...]ts of all Learning: Bu [...] hold him to it, and he will [...]all [...]ff, a [...] hee doth in his whole cour [...]e [...]rom the pra­ctice of goodnesse. To [...] his frie [...] or rather befriend [...], h [...]e will turne true Asi [...]n [Page 26] knight, and sweare for you most pragmatically. A more affable or sociable companion the world cannot afford you: for hee will mould himselfe to your humour, be it in the quest of busi [...]esse or pleasure: your owne shadow cannot bee more attendant, nor more obsequiously observant. His onely desi [...]e is but to know where you lodge (and for want of his high-road revenewes) hee will bee your incessant visitant. Having by this wrought o [...] your easie temper, and in your bosome purchased him a friend­ly harbour: Hee pretends oc­casions abroad; and com­plaines his horse is lame, and what injurie the base F [...]rrier had done him. This in Civility you cannot chuse but take notice of, especialy to so intimate a friend, who ha's so many times vow'd to [Page 27] engage his person for your ho­nour. By this hee mounts your Palfrey, and makes for the Coun­trey; where if he doe not speede himselfe of a fortune by the way; next friday in Smithfield you s [...]all finde your Demilance in the Faire. Whom if you should chance to owne, yet were you never a whit neerer your owne: for your sweete-bosome friend will not sticke to face you and sweare you out of him. Nay, hee will taxe you of impudence and countenanc'd by some of his own Co [...]rades, vow revenge for this undigested imputation. Now, i [...] your discretion will not bee thus outbrav'd no [...] baffelt, hee will shew himselfe tru [...] sparke of va­lour, and encounter you where you will or dare. But set up this for your rest, if you adjorne time, you shall as soone meete with [Page 28] your horse as [...]im. But these a [...]e but pe [...]ty assayes to other of his master-peeces. By th [...]s hee hath taken upon him the title of a great Heire; which is seconded by the approvement of his [...] F [...]ye. All Cubs of one Lit­ [...]er, and equally fur [...]ished [...]or a cheating Lecture. This some rich Mercer. Milliner, or Taylour, or some other necessary appendice of a gentleman is presently pos [...]est of; who become humble Suppli­cants for his Custome, and by corrupting the Groome of his Chamb [...]r, (who was corrupt e­nough already) purposely cheat [...] themselves with expence of some [...]w Crownes. Along goes ou [...] De [...]oy▪ as a [...] imaginarie H [...]ire, well accoutred and attended, to­wards his [...] of Cust [...]me. [...], as o [...]e borne to more m [...]anes than bra [...]nes, hee be [...]aves [Page 29] himselfe like a very Gandergoose, which strengthens his credu [...]ous Creditors gainefull expectance, hoping to make an Essex Calfe of him. But his acquaintance begets a good effect in them, for it ever ends with repentance. But these are but his civill Citie cheats, for want of employment abroad. For howsoever his Name, in its owne proper signification seeme to render him, his profession ha's proclaim'd him an universall [...]. Publike faires are his re­venewes; and there is nothing which hee keepes better in heart tha [...] their time. He ha's his vari­etie of Led suites: and can (if neede require) counterfeate the habit of Grazier, Gallant, or Ci­tizen all in one day. With which habits he playes the cunning Im­postor, and deludes those whose cond [...]n hee [...]: He had [Page 30] neede bee one of Volpon [...]'s true­bred Cubbes that shall smell him out. Private alleyes and by-lanes are his Sanctuaryes in the Citie: but places of publike frequent in the Countrey. H [...]e ha's more D [...]xes than a Gipsie, which hee makes use of, ei [...]her for receiving his purchase, or for informing him of a prey. If at any time hee shall bee accused or attached by some simple Count [...]ey Officer: [...]ee affronts him with such bigg­swolne words of points of reputa­ [...]on▪ g [...]ntile, estimation, detracti­on, derogation; as holding all these to be severall Titles of his honour, hee not onely releases him, but most humbly complaining, invites him to a dinner; lest his too rash attach of a Gentleman of [...]rship, (for [...] his ignorance holds him) should bring him in danger. Which simplicitie of his [Page 31] our Decoy observes, and workes upon it. Hee must have his repu­tation salv'd with some [...] album, or hee will not sit downe with this disgrace. Which (to prevent all ensuing harme, taking him bound withall that hee shall stirre up no powerfull friend against him, whereof our cheate pretends a myriad) this of­ficiall Offall applyes, to cure the ulcer of his impostum'd reputa­tion; and so they part, a foole and a foist. You shall finde him now and then betting with some of his rooking consorts in Bowl-alleyes; where if a young Novice come, he stands confident of a purchase. you shall see him presently (yet with a reserved counterfeit civi­lity) cloze with him. His owne [...] shall not seeme more inti­mate. But our young Mast [...]r still goes by weeping- [...]rosse; He leaves [Page 32] as few Crummes of Comfort in his Purse, as haire on his Chinne, or wit in his Pate. It is above the reach of conceite, to observe him, how understandingly he will con­verse with a Countrey Farmer, after hee ha's saluted him at the [...] doore. His tale is of a Tur [...]e, his matter a Mattocke, his plea a Pl [...]ugh. But the Catastrophe is a peece of plate, which he ever leaves the Country-man in pledge for. To display him by his garbe, or describe him by his garment, were a taske of some difficultie▪ hee sorts a [...]d suites himselfe pur­posely to foole the world, i [...] such varietie. Sometimes you shall see him n [...]ate and b [...]ske, and accou­tred bravely: next day, like one at Oddes with himselfe, nitty a [...] na [...]y. Which inde [...]d, is his tru [...] naturall garbe, that best become him: and may bee best preserv' [...] [Page 33] in regard of those uncertaine veils which befall him. Hee may for most part compare with those brave Roman Emperours for the manner of his death; for hee sel­dome dyes in his bed. Hee hopes one day to be advanc'd above the residue of his fellowes, which I conjecture must either bee on the Pillorie or the Gallowes: where I leave him.

5. An Exchange▪ man

IS the peremptorie br [...]nch of an Intergatorie; What do [...]? He would make you b [...]eve, that hee will furnish you [...]; but such profuse boun [...]y [...] [...]ot pay Scot and lot; your mony therefore must be your p [...]edge, [...]efore you have his [...]inket. It is [Page 34] a wonder to s [...]e what var [...]ety of Knick-k [...]acks he ha's in so small a Compasse. His quest of i [...]quiry is, [...]at is most in request: so as, [...] Shoppe co [...]sists as much of fa [...]n as [...] ▪ forme as [...]. It would make one muse how [...]ver so many G [...]w-gawes should finde vent in a wise state; And yet the l [...]bouring invention of the Braine is [...]ver teeming and produci [...]g so [...] eye-temp [...]g Bab [...]e or other, to allure the Ne [...]fangle passenger. The hurri­i [...] of a Coach is as pleasi [...]g me­ [...] to [...] in his expe [...]tance, [...] th [...] last sound before a New­play is to an i [...]ching audience. W [...]en the Simp [...]e goe to market, [...] the [...] get mony. By [...] [...]y L [...]dy w [...]th he [...] D [...]apred [...] ▪ hav [...] as many poakes as [...], are mou [...]ted the staires; a [...]d [...] now th [...] long Pe [...]pa­tetick [Page 35] gallery; they a [...]e encountred with volleyes of more questions, then they know how to resolve. Gladly would this Salique traine buy all they see, if their revenues would mount to the price. But they must in civill curtsy leave some few Commodities for o­thers. Meane time they buy more then they know how to employ. "That is a prety conceited toy (sayes my Ladies gentle woman) I will buy it whatsoever it cost me: which discreete spe [...]ch delivered in the hearing of our Exchange­man, it must want no praise, a [...]d consequently no p [...]ice. H [...]e [...]ll usually demand the three [...] value for any commod [...]ty; but farre bee it from me to [...] him to have the Consce [...]ce [...]o [...]ake it if they would give it. It is his onely drift without any other po­licy to make triall of [...] judge­ment: [Page 36] his equall and conscionable moderation is such (at least hee will pretend so much) in these tri­vial [...] subjects of gaine, as hee hates to wo [...]ke on any ones weake­n [...]sse, being the expressivest argu­m [...]nt of mercinarie [...]asenesse. But were all that traffick with him as well-li [...]'d in pate as purse, wee should finde many emptie shoops b [...]fore the next vacation. By this, a new troope of ruffling pl [...]m'd Myrmidons are arri­ved; and these will swoope up all before th [...]m; N [...]t so much us a [...] ty [...]e, be it never so ougly, shall es [...]ape their encoun­ter. Now out w [...]th your lures, baites, and lime-twiggs, my nim­ble D [...]dapper. Your harvest is not all the yeare. See how hee s [...]ruggs; and with what downe­right reverence hee entertaines them! If oaths, civill comple­ments, [Page 37] demure lookes have any hope to prevaile with raw and vnexperienc'd credulity, he is in a notable thriving way: for he ha's set his Partridg [...] al [...]eady; there is no doubt of [...]pringing them till his N [...]t be spread over them: By wh [...]ch meanes he ha▪s a tricke to catch the Old one. S [...]lence, and you shall hea [...]e his project. The Ancient Matron which strikes the stroake, and directs her young charge in their merchand [...]ze, is by this time as firmely retained by ou [...] Exchange-man, as ever was Lawyer by his Client. What great matter is it, though it cost him a Muffe, a wrought Wastcoate, or some curious Border? Hee may pay himselfe in his price: for they are too generous (so their Dire­c [...]sse approve it) to stand upon tea [...]mes. Let this suffice; it is a good market, where all are plea­sed, [Page 38] and so are these. They joy no lesse in his Commodity, than hee in their money. Yet are the Sava­ges, in my opinion, much more to be approved in their Commerce than these. Indeed they exchange pretious stuffe for tri [...]es: Bevers and Ermi [...]s for knifes, hatchets, kettle-drums and hobby-horses. But this they doe out of their Su­perfluity; whereas our nicer D [...]mes bestow that upon trifles, which might support a needfull family. But the Age labours of this Epidemicall Error; too uni­versall therefore is the Crime to admit of Censure. Now you must suppose that Invention is the Ex­change-mans most usefull A [...]tizan. Therefore, for his better returne, he keepes his weekely Synodall with his Girdler, Perfumer, Tyre­woman and Sempster: who bray their braines in a mortar, to pro­duce [Page 39] some usefull renew, some gainefull issue for their [...]hriving Master. Never was poore [...]ade more troubled with fashions than these are. By this time, [...] something invented; which, wh [...]st it is now in his Embrio, re [...]ives admittance to his shoppe, and to take the curious passenger, ap­peares in his full shape. He needs not use any Exchange- [...] to set it forward; Novelties will ve [...]d themselves. A vacation is his vexation; and a Michaelmas tearme the sole hope of his [...]. H [...] ha's by th [...] ti [...], serv'd all offices in hi [...] [...] ▪ [...] now drawes▪ homeward. [...] portion hee had [...]f the World, hee ha's bequeathed to his Exe­cutors, Adm [...]istrators, and As­signes. The Birds are [...]low [...]; his Customers gone; It is hig [...] time to shut up shop.

6. A Forrester

IS a Wood-man; but by all like­lyhood hee shall lose that t [...]tle, if hee live to another age; for there will be little or no Wood left in all his Forrest. Hee proves by his W [...]ndfals, it is an ill winde that blowes no man profit. His Com­mo [...]-weale is his Chace, his People Deere. Though his Subjects bee wilde, hee can tame them with a Powder. Though hee make no Porters of them, hee drawes a part of his main [...]enance from their [...]. [...]he judgement which i [...] most requis [...]te to a man of his [...], c [...]nsists in singling out a go [...]d De [...]re. Hee is an excellent [...]-man, and will serve your warrant daintily, if you Fee him. [Page 41] Hee weares by his side, what hee would not for a world have fixt on his front: though hee have many times deserv'd it, by play­ing the Rascall Deere, leaving his owne Doe, breaking over his owne Pale, and ranging in ano­thers Purlew. But for all that she is impaled, when fitly tappised, she may prove one of Swetnams brood, Hee Act [...]s bird, if Ca­lysto's egge bee rightly hatched. One would take him for the Li­ving signe of Robin Hood with a Forrest bill in his hand. Hee ha's a warren to turne Co [...]e-catcher; where he erects a place of Ex [...]cu­tion for his ver [...]in. You would thinke him a co [...]templative man by his solitarie Walkes; and no question b [...]t hee might benefit hi [...]selfe mu [...]h that way; but his m [...]nde stands not so affe­cted. He weares his Mothers Li­very, [Page 42] and domineeres like a petty king in his owne Liberty. Hee k [...]epes a choyce consort of Musi­cians; with which hee is not at so much charge as to the value of a Lut [...]-string. Amorous and attra­ctive is his colour, else Semele had never so much affected it in her Iuppiter. His very Habit in­cludes an Emble [...]e. Hee attires himselfe to the Colour of the For­rest to deceive his game; and our Spirituall enemy attyres himselfe in the Colour we most affect and least suspect, to receive his prey. Were he a Scholl [...]r, hee might in­finitely improve his knowledge by the Objects which hee dayly sees. He i [...] as the A [...]podes to us; for our Day is his N [...]ght, his Night our Day. He [...] is one of L [...]tona's se [...]vants; and is so con­versant with her, as hee knowes certainely whether the Moone be [Page 43] made of greene chees [...] or no. Hee is a proper man of his hands; but most couragious when hee is im­pal'd. Yet if his friend come for a peece of flesh, he will not walke that Night, but sl [...]pe as soundly as a Constable. But visit any other his Chase, hee will ferret them. He can do miracles with his Line­hound; who by his good Educa­tion ha's more Sophistry than his Master. Hee were a brave man, had hee the World as hee ha's his dogge in a string. For Venison, h [...] is generally better provided than the Commander of the game: and give the Blade his dew, hee is no niggard of his flesh: for hee will c [...] large tho [...]gs out of anothers leather. If his Game thrive not, the cause must bee imputed to a murraine or a stormie Winter; but his generous, if not m [...]rcenary bounty, was the occasion rather. [Page 44] His body proclaimes him apt for any employment, but his breeding hath accommodated him better for a Pale than a Pike, a Chace than a Campe. For discourse, ex­pect no such matter at his hands; A very small quantitie of reason will su [...]fice the Creatures hee con­verse [...]h with. A naturall blunt­nesse doth best beseeme him; for Rhetoricke becomes not the Woods. If wee bee companions to Ostridges, wee shall be sure to savour of the wildernesse. Hee knowes whether the Poets con­c [...]te of Fa [...]nes and S [...]lvanes bee true or no; for th [...]y walke in his raunge At Wakes and Maygames hee [...] a brave [...]: for our wenches of [...]e greene hold him a marvellous proper man. For the rest of our Hobbinols, they re­tai [...]e such an opinion of his valor, they dare scarc [...]ly say their sou [...]es [Page 45] are their own [...]. For his revenew's, be [...] they more or lesse, hee makes [...]ven worke at every yeeres end. He ha's no land but Leases; and th [...]se will weare out in time. The [...] which [...]ost dignifie him, are these; he can hallow, give a gib­bet, wi [...]d a horne▪ cut up a peece of flesh, and laugh at an ignorant Animal that takes saime between the frontl [...]s. When he is to pre­sent some ne [...]ghbouring Gentle­man in his Masters n [...]me, with a side or a fouch hee ha's an excel­lent art in improving his venison to the best; and in aggravat [...]ng the d [...]fficulties hee suffered before h [...]e could come to his purpose; And whereto tends all this, but to binde a greater curtesie upon the receiver▪ and to purchase a better reward for hims [...]fe? For memo­ry, hee may vye with X [...]xes; he knowes all his wilde regiment [Page 46] by head. For religion, hee cannot be justly taxed in his tenets, either of [...] or error; for hee is yet to chuse. The Lawnd is his Tem­pl [...], the bi [...]ds his quirresters. His employment for the winter quar­t [...]r is a con [...]nuate imposture; lay­ing Spring [...] for Woodcockes, [...], [...], &c. His condition of all [...] is most mutable; his [...] Count [...]nance variable; and his place to many overtures [...]vable. It were necessary there­ [...]ore that hee tooke [...]at fees while he is in office; that he may have something to build on in his va­cancie from s [...]rvice. But in this particular he is so well cautioned, as his pr [...]decessors Lecture hath made him completely armed. If he live till he be old, he incurs th [...] th [...] ge [...]erall fate of an ancient dis­carded Servingman; clozing the Evening of his life with contempt [Page 47] or neglect. Those materials or appendices of his place, Horne, Lease and Bill he resignes (if not pawn'd already) to his successour; [...]ho keepes a mig [...]ty racket the first q [...]arter, but af [...]rwards falls off, imitating Endym [...]on, his prede­cessors steppes, in conniving at his friends, and compounding with his [...]. The greene L [...]very, that Embleme of frailtie, which h [...]e wore living, must now bee the Carp [...]t t [...] cover him dying. Out of all hi [...] spacious raunge, he ha's rese [...]ved so much ground a [...] may afford him a Grave. More hee n [...]edes not, and to bee debarr [...]d t [...]is, even in humanity he can [...]ot. What rests then, but that hee rest after his long Walke? While [...] a [...]fixe his owne Epitaph upon his owne naked monume [...]t, to make his memory more perp [...]tuate; Defessus sum ambulando. Pitty [Page 48] were it then to disquiet him.

7. A Gamester

IS a Merch [...]t-venturer, for his stocke ru [...]nes alwaies upon ha­zard. H [...]e ha's a perp [...]tuall Pal­s [...]y in his Elbow; which never leaves shaking till his fortunes bee shaken. Hee remembers God more in Oaths than Orison [...]. And if hee pray at any time, it is not premeditate but extemporall. The summe of his devotion consists not in the expression or conf [...]ssion of himselfe like a penitent sinner, but that he may come off at next meeting a competent winner. But where findes hee any such in all our Collect [...]? H [...]e so over-braves and abuseth the poore dice, that if they were his equalls, they [Page 49] would, questionlesse, call him to account for't. The Ordinarie is his Oratorie, where h [...]e pr [...]yes upon the Countrey-gull to feede him­selfe. Hee was a gr [...]at Heire, and entred the world full-handed; but falling to Game purposely to make him more compleate, his Long acre hath past the Aliena­tion offi [...]e, and made him a stran­ger to his fathers Mansion-house: And now hee is fitter for a Game­ster than ever hee was; Let for­tune doe her worst, his estate can­not be much worse. In his mino­rity, he plaid ever upon disadvan­tage; but Experience hath now sufficiently inform'd him in his maturity; though his dice seeme square, he seldome playes so. Advantage is his advancement; wherein if you prevent him and bring him to square, he is ever seconded with sinister fortune. [Page 50] Sundrie prety passages and con­veiances h [...] ha's in his pockets, sleeves, and other private places [...]or his little familiars; and these furnish him at a dead lift. You feare [...]gging, and to make sure worke, you bring him a Box; but all this will not serve your turne; hee ha's a Bee in a Box to sting you. It is his care to creepe into a good suite of Cloaths; lest the Ordinarie should barre him by and maine. Which having pur­chased, by translating and accom­modating it to the fashion most i [...] request, it seemes quarterly new. Hee feedes well, howsoever hee fare. Hope and feare make his re­creation an affliction. Hee ha's no time to refresh his mind, being equally divided betwixt hope of g [...]ine, and feare of losse. For his losse of patience, it is so familiar with him, as hee holds it no losse. [Page 51] Money is of too deare and tender an estimate to let it slippe from him, and hee like a Stoicall Stocke to say nothing. T [...]llus Hostilius put FEARE and PALE­NESSE in the number of his gods: and it is pittie (saith Lactantius) that ever his gods should goe from him. These two are our Gamsters Furies, which startle him in midst of his Iubilee. Hee is poore, yet miserably covetous; Envie like Ivie, is ever wreathing about his heart: Others successe is his eye-sore. Hee seldome ha's time to take ayre, unlesse it be to a Play; where if his pockets will give leave, you shall see him aspire to a Box: or like the [...]ilent Wo­man, sit demurely upon the stage. Where, at the end of every Act, while the encurtain'd Musique sounds, to give Enter-breath to the Actors, and more grace to [Page 52] their Action, casting his Cloake carelesly on his left shoulder, hee enters into some complementall d [...]scourse with one of his ordina­rie Gallants. The argument of their learned conference is this; Where shall we suppe, or how shall we trifle away this night? Where shall we meete to morrow; or how bestow our selves? Hee takes no course how to live, nor knows any way how to thrive but in this high-bet-path of idlenesse. Any other imployment were his tor­ment. It were the wisest part to deale with such lewd and inordi­nate walkers, time-triflers, stan­ders, sitters in the wayes of idle­nesse, and incendiaries to a Civill state, as Philip of Macedon dealt with two of his Subjects, in whom there was little hope of grace, or redemption of time: Hee made one of them runne out [Page 53] of the Countrey, and the other d [...]ive him: So his people was rid of both. The longer hee lives, more arguments of his basenesse hee leaves. Whom hee consorts with he depraves, and those that beleeve him hee deceives. It were a strange account that hee would make, if he w [...]re call'd to't; since his first imitation in this professi­on. Surely, hee would expresse himselfe a second Marg [...]tes, of whom it is said, that h [...]e never plowed, nor digged, nor addres­sed himselfe to ought all his life long that might tend unto good­nesse, being wholly unprofitable to the World. To disswade him then [...]rom this habitu [...]te Course of perverted Liberty, might sceme a fruitlesse taske: [...]or [...]eates must be [...]is revenues or he [...]. Howbeit to such as are but freshmen, and are not throughly [Page 54] salted with his rudiments, these Caut [...]ons will not prove altog [...] ­ther uselesse. This complete Gal­lant, which you see every way thus accoutred, is master of no­thing but what hee weares; and that in Lavender ere long. Hee is famous in nothing but in being the last of his house. He is onely used by the Master of the Ordi­narie, as men use Cumminseede, to replenish their Culverhouse; his employment is the draught of Customers. Have your [...]yes a­bout you, if you play with him: for want of a L [...]underer hee can set your ruffe n [...]atly by helpe of a glasse behinde you, or a dam­maske pummell to discover your gam [...]. This he will do so [...]imbly, as you shall scarce know who hurt you. In a word, bee our you [...]g Novices affected to play? Let them remember Plato's gol­de [...] [Page 55] rule: Parvum est al [...]â lude­r [...], & non parvum est assuescere: It is no great matter to play at dice, but it is a great error to make dice their dayes-taske. Let it be their pastime, not their practice. Let them know further, that Gamest [...]rs are but as Rivolets, but the Boxe that maine Ocean in­to which they descend. By this time you may suppose our cun­ning Gamester to bee now fallen to his very last stake; his wit in the waine; and his fortune in the eb [...]e. Hee cannot hold out long, for in­famie ha's mark't him for a Cheat; and the more generous professants have by this discarded him for a Bum-card. Hee is out of Credit with the Ordinarie; and enter­tain'd with a scornefull looke by his owne familiars. Hee resolves therefore to turne penitentiarie, now when he ha' [...] nought el [...]e to [Page 56] doe. Suppose him then walking l [...]ke a second Malevolo with a de­jected eye, a broad-brim'd hat or'e-pentising his discontented looke, an e [...]wreathed arme like a dispassionate Lover, a weake yingling spurre guiltlesse of gold, with a wint [...]r suite, which must of necessitie suite him all Summer; till drawing n [...]re some Cookes shop, hee takes occasion to mend his spurre-leather, purposely to a [...]lay hi [...] hunger with a comfor­tabl [...] savour. Happy were hee, if hee, [...]ho in his time had beene so boun [...]ifull to the Gamesters box [...] might now receive any be­nefit or competent rele [...]f from the Pooremans boxe: but miserie no so [...]ner found him, tha [...] pitty left [...]: it is high time then for us to l [...]ave him.

8. An Hospitall-man

IS the [...] of a greater work; b [...]ing all that is left of a decay [...]d G [...]ntleman, a maimed Souldi [...]r, or a discarded Servingman. Hee is now ta [...]ked to th [...]t in his age, which hee was little acquainted with in his youth. Hee must now betake himselfe to prayer a [...]d de­votion; remember the Found [...]r, Benefactors, H [...]ad and members of that [...]amous foundation: all which he performes with as much z [...]ale, as as Actor aster the end of a Play, when hee prayes for his Majestie, the Lords of his most honourable pri [...]ie Counc [...]ll, and all that love the King. He ha's scarce fully ended his Orisons, till hee lookes backe at the Buttry hatch, [Page 58] to see whether it bee open or no. The sorrow hee conceives for his sinnes ha's made him drie: The Proselyte therefore had n [...]ede of some refresh [...]ent. His gowne and retyred walkes would argue him a S [...]holler: but it is not the hood that makes the Monke; hee can bee no such man unlesse hee have it by inspiration. But admit he were, hee is at the best but a lame Scholler. A great part of a long winter night is past over by him and the rest of his devout Cir­cumcellions in discoursing of what they have beene and seene. While sometimes they fall at variance in the relation and comparison of their actions. But all their diffe­rences are soone rinsed downe in Lambs-wooll. Which done, with a friendly and brotherly regreete one of another, as loving mem­bers of one soci [...]tie, they betake [Page 59] themselv's to their rest. Before the first Cocke at the longest awakes o [...]r Hospitall-man; [...]or aches and crampes will not suffer his sleepes to be long: which is a great mo­tive to make his prayers more fre­quent. The morning Bell sum­mons him early to his devotions, whereto, howso [...]ver his inward man stand affected, his outward is with due reverence addressed. No sooner ha's hee got repast for his soule, than he prepares r [...]leefe for his belly. Hee cannot endure to chastise it so lo [...]g as he may che­rish it. Austeritie he can embrace, so it restraine him neither in his repast nor rest. For other bodily exercises, hee stands indifferent: for hee findes his body unable to use them. To speake of the con­dition of his life, hee might con­ceive an high m [...]asure of Con­templative sweetnesse in it, if the [Page 60] Sunne of hi [...] Soule (too long e [...] ­clipsed by the interpos [...]ion of earth) could clearely apprehend it. It is stra [...]ge to see with what tendernesse he embrace [...]h this life, which in all reaso [...] should bee ra­ther by h [...]m loathed than lov [...]d. His head i [...] a recep [...]acle of Ca­tarrhs, his eyes [...] of slux­es and [...], his brest a Conduit of rhumatick [...] distillati­ons; the Sciatica ha's seazed on his hippes, aches and convulsions racke his backe and reines; in a word, his whole body is a very Magazen of diseases; and disea­ses, you k [...]ow, are the Suburbs of death. Yet he hopes to put the Hospitall to the charge of another Livery gowne, and a whole yeers Com [...]ons; whence hee seemes to verifie the proverbe: There is none so desperately old, but he hopes to live one yeere longer. Yet for [Page 61] all this, hee ca [...] never be [...] merry: being injoyned to a taske, which he cannot i [...]ure [...] to without irksomnesse or [...]. For to bring an old [...]axter [...]o the exercise of Devotion, is [...]o bring an old Bird to sing pricksong in a Cage. The rules of his house hee observes most punctually; but for Clancular houres of private pray­er and devotion, hee absolu [...]ely holds them workes of Superero­gation. His Campe is now transla­ted into a Cloister; yet his zeale as much then as now: for a [...] Hospi­tall-fire, and too liberall [...] ha's cool'd his fervor. He conc [...]ives as much delight in discoursi [...]g [...]t the G [...]te, as [...] in [...] C [...]l; yet h [...] demu [...]e [...], ag [...]d reve [...]ence, an [...] [...] more [...] to [...] expect [...]ce. Ho [...]ly in [...] hee [...] o [...] [...]is [...], [Page 62] and guides he ha's to waft him to the port of felicitie; wherein it were to be wished, that as hee is retentive of the one, so he would not bee unmindefull of the other. There is no Provision hee neede take care for, but how to dye, and that he will doe at leasure, when necessity calls him to't. The world is well changed with him, if he could make right use on't. In stead of the cold ground for his pallat, Armes and Alarmes, and volleyes of shot; he may now lie softly, sleepe sweetly, repose safe­ly, and if hee looke well to the re­giment of [...]is soule, discampe se­curely. Feares and Foes he may have within him, but neither Foes nor Feares without him. Armour he ha's aswell as before, and that more complete: this is spirituall, that corporall. Methinks it should not grieve him to remember hee [Page 63] was a man in his time. That con­dition is the best, which makes him best. Admit he had meanes, yet being a meanes to corrupt his minde, they were better lost than possest. In his Summer Arbour of prosperiti [...] hee was d [...]sperately sicke, for hee had no sense of his sinne. Sycophants he had to dan­dle him in the lappe of securitie, and belull him in his sensuall Le­thargie. These tame beasts are gone; These Summer-swallowes flowne; the fuell of his loose-ex­pended houres consumed; the veile which kept him from disco­very of himselfe, removed. What remaines now, but that hee alien himselfe from the world, seeing what he had in the world is alie­ned from him? His soules-tillage is all the husbandry hee neede in­tend. This neglected, his case is desperate; This resp [...]cted, all is [Page 64] fortunate. Every day then, as his body is nearer E [...]rth, let his soule bee nearer Heaven. Hee feedes but a languishing-lingring life, while hee lives here: It is but a [...]abernacle at the best, so long as he is encloistered; upon his manu­mission hence, hee is truly enfran­chised. While he had meanes, he might leave an estate to his suc­cessour; and so much meanes hee ha's now, as will cause some Hos­pitall-Brother thanke God for his departure. The thirstie Earth gapes not more greedily for his Corp [...]e, than some Beadsm [...]n or oth [...]r doth for his place. He ha's by this got his pasport; hee ha's [...]id the World a d [...]w, by paying N [...]ture [...]r de [...]: Dry eyes at­t [...]nd him; his [...] Brothers follow him, a [...] bri [...]g hi [...] to [...]is long home. A shor [...] [...] up hi [...] [...]; more state [Page 65] hee needes not, and lesse hee can­not have.

9. A Iayler

IS a Surly hoast, who enter­taines his Guests with harsh language, and hard usage. Hee will neither allow them what is sufficient for them, nor give them Liberty to seeke an other I [...]ne. Hee is the Phy [...]itian, and they are his Patients; to whom hee p [...]e­scribes such a strict die [...], that if they would, they cannot surfet. If at any time they grow irregu­lar, hee allayes their distemper [...] cold iron. Hee receives the first fruits o [...] the A [...]m svasket, and leaves them the [...]. He holds nothing more unprofitable to one of his place than [...], [...] [Page 66] more dissorting than compassion; so as it little moves him to see his famish'd family in affliction. His Mency cannot bee more impious than he is imperious: hee domi­neeres bravely; beares himselfe towards his ragged regiment bra­vingly; and makes himselfe Alm­ner of their poore treasury. Hee is in fee with the Constables of all the Wards to send him Night­walkers to be his Pay-masters. Hee turnes not his key but hee will have his fee of every Inmate. If hee would turne them out, hee deserv'd it better; but hee both stayes and starves them together. If hee provide any cheere for them, it must be Whipping-cheere. His Ornaments are fetters, boults, and mannacl [...]s. These are his Bracelets, yingles, and Capari­sous: Thus must his enthralled Crickets live ever in an Iron age. [Page 67] Yet according to a proportiona­ble weight in starling, hee will a­bate a proportionable weight in Iron. Hee so doubles and redou­bles his wards, as one would thinke he had some infinite trea­sure; but hee that should seeke for any such within his precincts, should lose his labour. Hee ha's a rough hoarse voice ever mena­cing fire and faggot: for hee ha's contracted with his tongue never to utter one syllable of comfort: And concludes, that the Iayler in the Acts, was o [...] too milde tem­per to supply the place of a Iay­ler If his Prisoner have revenew's, and desire to breathe the ayre of liberty; hee m [...]y purchase an ar­tificiall daies freedome and a Kee­per to boot, by his bounty. But his Exhibition must be good, o­therwise he sleights his quality. For those poore Snakes who feed [Page 68] on reversions, a glimpse through the key-hole, or a light through the Grate, m [...]st be all their prospect. He ha' [...] many times troubled and broken sleepes; and starts out a bed, crying, The prison is broken: So incessant are his feares, so im­pressive his cares. Which to pre­vent, he redoubles his Wards, re­burdens his irons; and if all this will not doe, but that the fury of feare still dogges him: hee forti­fies his thoughts against suspition with strength of liquor. Which [...] him as insensible of feare, if occasion were offered, as he was be [...]ore app [...]ehensive of feare, ere any [...] of suspition was mi­nistred. Hence it appeares, that nothing amates him so much as feare of a Prisoners escape. For his [...]innes, they never so much as breake hi [...] sleep, trouble his head, or [...] his minde. When the [Page 69] Sessions draw neere, how offici­o [...]sly obsequious he is to any o [...] his well-lin'd Prisoners? Now hee must [...] how to mince his guilt, and [...] his owne gaine. He ha's already comp [...]unded with him [...]or the Summe: the project must be [...] his braine. [...], if it hit, hee ha's vow'd to bee [...]runke that night; but if it [...]il'd, pu [...]posely to be re­veng'd of himselfe, he will quench his hydropicke thirst with six shillings beare, and so dye of a male-tympanie. If any of his more happy Prisoners be admitted to his Clergy, and by helpe of a compassionate Prompter, hacke out his Necke-verse, hee ha's a cold iron in store if hee be hot, but an hot iron if hee be cold. Where there be many Irons in the fire, some must coole. If his pulse (I meane his purse) bee hot, [Page 70] his fist may cry fizze, but want his impression: but if his pulse be cold, the poore beggarly knave must [...] his literall expression. Hee heares more ghostly instru­ction at the Ordinaries funerall Sermon before an Execution, than all the yeare after: Y [...]t is his attention as farre distant from that Sermon as Newgate from Ty­burne. And yet say not but hee is a most constant friend to his con­victed Inmates, for hee seldome ever leaves them till hee see them hang'd. Now some againe will object that hee is a subtile Mac­chiauel, and loves to walke in the Cloudes, because he never re­solves those with whom hee deales, but fils them full of doubts, and in the end ever leaves them in suspence. But this is a badge of his profession, and consequently pleades exemption. Doe you [Page 71] heare yo [...] New-gate bird? How sweetely the pilfring Syren sings! Well warbled Chuck. The C [...]im Tartar with the bunch of keyes at his belt will requite thee. Thou knowest hee expects a masters share, or no release. One Note higher then, as thou hopes for re­leefe. He ha's Collectors too with basons to improve his rents: which consist of vailes and bribes: but hee is more beholden to the later. It is just contrarie with his Oeco­nomie and with others; the grea­ter his theevish family is, the ri­cher is his fare. Hee can doe sometimes very good offices (if hee please) by discovery of Cacus cave. But it is not the publike which hee must preferre before his particular: annoint him, and he will come on like an oy [...]d glove. Notable intelligence hee receives dayly from his ancient Inmates: [Page 72] who for the good entertainement they have already received, and what they may expect heereaf­ter, pr [...]sent him now and then [...]ith a remembrance of their love; and so they may afford it very good cheape, for it cost them nought. But now what with Sur­fets, colds, fears, frights. supose him dra [...]ing neare his Goale-delivery. Though hee had about him Em­blemes of mans life dayly; though hee saw continuall Objects of hu­mane misery; though hee en­countred with nothing but Spe­cta [...]les of infelicity: yet his secu­rity imprisoned his understan­ding, so as hee made no use of them. Hee is now roming, hee knowes not whither; and must of necessity grapple with that which hee scarce ever thought of before this instant of his departure. Death ha's entred one Ward alrea­dy; [Page 73] No churlish affront can possibly amate him; no humane power repell him. Now hee ha's a poore prisoner within him, that suffers more anguish than ever any sicke Captive did without him. Hee gropes under his head, and hee findes his keyes gone; he looks inward, and he finds foes many, but friends few or none. Cold are those comforts which are in him; many those discom­forts which enthrall him. Yet two beame-lines of comfort dart upon him in this houre of terrour; from him he expects succour who received the penitent thiefe, and converted the layler.

10. A Keeper

IS an equivocall officer; for if by a Keeper you intend a raun­ger or forrester, he is a Wild-man, or a Woodman, as wee have for­merly given him his character. If by him you intend a Iayler, hee is an Iron-monger, whose Iron sides will suffer no compassion to enter. If an Alehouse-keeper, his house is the Divels Booth, and himselfe the recetter. If a Keeper of horses at Livery, he is a knave without a Livery; he will put in your hand a lame Palfrey, who will lay your honour in the dust. If a fi [...]ld-Kee­per, hee is a Night walker, who though he have store of neare In­mates ever about h [...]m, they ever backbite him. Hee imitates the [Page 75] Bellman in his [...]ogge, but wants his bell. If the world doe not be­ly him, hee will sooner share with a Night-catcher than descry him. If a Doore-keeper a frequent third day at a taking New play, will make this Collector a Colloguer. If a Shop keeper, deepe oathes, darke shoppes, base wares, false weights have al [...]eady proclaim'd him a civill cunning Impostor. If a Booke-keeper, he may get him frien [...]s, if his Master bee not all the wiser; and improve his owne meanes by change of a figure. But leaving these, give me a good House-keeper, who onely of all these merits a deserving Chara­cter. He preserves that relique of Gentry, the honour of hospitali­ty, and will rather fall, than it should faile. He revives the Black Iack, puts beefe in his pot, makes poore passengers pray for him, [Page 76] his followers to sticke neere him, his Countrey to honour him, his friends to love him, his foes to prayse him. Hee wonders how any one should bee so voyde of pitty as to leave his smoaklesse house in the Countrey, where he ha's his meanes, to riot in the Ci­tie, and estrange himselfe to his [...]riends. Hee conceives for what end he was borne, and keepes hi [...] dayes-account [...]o discharge the old score. Hee affects nothing so much as discr [...]t and well-tempe­red bounty; he admits no injuri­ous thought to lodge within him. How it [...] him to see a full table▪ Men to eat [...] his meate, [...] to feede thos [...] m [...]n! Hee [...] so low, as to ac­ [...] [...] w [...]th those bas [...] [...], who preferre [...] pub­ [...] [...]ate, [...] his [...]oy to become [Page 77] a Liberal dispencer, and to releeve the needy with the fattest portion of his trencher. Competence hee holds the best fortune; and here­in hee strives to confine his owne desires. The Sunne of his aymes tends rather to the releefe of o­thers want, than his owne weale; yea he holds the releefe of their want his supreme weale. The Court seldome takes him, but if it doe, he is never taken by it. Hee hath set up his rest, that the place which gave him first being, with meanes to support that being, shall receive what with conveni­encie hee may bestow while hee lives in it; with some lasting re­membrance of his love when hee departs from it. Hee is generally the pooremans friend▪ and will suffer no oppressor to nes [...]le neare him. [...] is hee altoge [...]her so pre [...]ise as to admit of no pl [...]asure. [Page 78] Wherefore hee keepes Horses, Hawkes, Hounds, or whatsoever the most free and generous dispo­sitions usually affect: yet shal [...] not his recreations so seaze on him, as to fore-slow any usefull Offices in him. Hee divides his day into distinct houres, his houres into devout ta [...]kes. His affabilitie [...]ixt with sweetnesse of bounty, his bounty with alacrity, hath so wonne his family, as no earthly state ca [...] promise more felicity. It is like a well-rigg'd ship; every one knowes their peculiar charge or office: their love unto their mast [...]r makes it no eye service. His Garner is his C [...]untryes Ma­g [...]zin. If a famine threaten that Coast, hi [...] provision must bee brought forth, purposely to [...] downe the Market. His heart bleeds to see a famish'd soule lan­guish; he will therefore by time­ly [Page 79] releefe succour him lest hee pe­r [...]h. Hee sets not his aymes on purchasing: it contents him well to preserve what his Ancestors l [...] him. Hee makes even with the World, as hee would with his owne Soule. One princi­pall care counterpoizeth the rest: yea, the more s [...]riously to ad­dresse himselfe to this o [...]ely one, h [...] disvalues all the rest. Neither is there o [...]ght which conferres more true glorie on these deser­ving actions, than his disesteeme of worl [...]ly praise or popular ap­plause. Hee shuts his ea [...]e when he heares himselfe approv'd, and rejoyces most within him [...]elfe when his deservingest actions are least observed. The Begger or distressed Traveller, hee holds to be his most [...] benefa­ctors, rather than he theirs. He [...] holds it better to give than ta [...]e▪ [Page 80] wherefore he acknowledges him­selfe their debtor, who petition his almes in this nature. Knocke at his gate, and you shall finde it not surely but civilly guarded; e [...]ter his Court, and you shall see the poore and needy charitably rewarded; Ascend up higher and steppe into his Hall, and you shall read this posie in Capitall Letters inscribed; A PILGRIMES SOLACE IS A CHRI­STIANS OFFICE. Sup­pose Christmas now approach­ing, the ever-green Ivie trimming and adorning the portalls and partcloses of so frequented a buil­ding; the usuall Carolls, to ob­serve antiquitie, cheerefully soun­ding; and that which is the com­plement of his inferiour comforts, his Neighbours whom he tenders as members of his owne family, joyne with him in this Consort of [Page 81] mirth and melody. Bu [...] see! T [...]e poore mans comfort is now decli­ning with the old yeare; which fi [...]ls their eyes as full of water, as he is of sicknesse through infirmi­tie of nature. This Mirror of hos­pitality now breathes sh [...]rt; it is to be [...]eared he will breath his last. He may leave an Heire to inherit his meanes, but never his minde. Well, funerall blacks are now to bee worne aswell inward as out­ward; his Sonne mournes least, though hee bee at most cost. It is thought erelong, he will mourne in Scarlet, for vanitie ha's seaz'd on him already, and got him to forsake his Countrey, and for­sweare Hospitalitie.

11. A Launderer

IS a Linnen Barber, and a meere Sa [...]urnine; for you shall ever fi [...]de her in the Sudds. Vsed shee Clipping asmuch as washing, sh [...]e were an egregious Counterfeite, and might quickly come within compasse of the Statute. Shee is an Epicene, and of the doubtfull g [...]nder: for a L [...]nderer may bee asw [...]ll a Male as a Female, by course of nature. But for her, there woul [...] be no [...]hifter; with whom qu [...]rterly shee becomes a Sharer. Shee is in principall request with Collegiat Vnderbutlers, Pu [...]ie Clarks in Innes of Cha [...]y, with other officers of inferiour qu [...]litie; unlesse higher gra [...]uates will deigne to shew her their humili­ty, [Page 83] In Progresse time (being f [...]llen into Contempt) shee followes the Court; and consorts familiarly with the Black-guard. B [...]t shee scornes the motion (I meane to be so poorely employed) during the flourishing Spring of her youth: for shee ha's good vailes, b [...]sides her standing wages: and now and then gets good bits which neither the Principall nor Seniours know of. Her young Masters, whom shee serves with all dili­gence, neede no Cocke but her: shee'll come to their Chambers, and wake them early; and if they have the Spirit to rise, may at their pleasure use her helpe to make them ready. Shee is a nota­ble witty, ta [...]ing Titmouse; and can make twentie sleevelesse ar­ [...] in hope of a good turne. By her frequent recourse and famili­ar concourse with professours of [Page 84] Law, she knowes by this how to put a Case: and amongst her ig­norant Neighbours can argue it when she ha's done. In some By­Alley is her dwelling generally: where she keepes a quarter, as if shee were She-Constable of the Ward. If shee demeane herselfe wisely, and pretend onely a car [...] of preserving her honesty, shee may come in time to some unex­pected advancement. But truth is (as it fares commonly with the easiest and tractablest natures) she is of that yeelding temper as she cannot endure to bee long woo'd b [...]fore shee bee wonne. Her Fort may be sackt by paper pellets of promises and assumpsits, if shee be credulous; or by silver shot of plates and p [...]eces, if shee be cove­tous. Whence it is, that in very short time, the dropping fruite of this Launderer, becomes like a [Page 85] Medlar; no sooner ripe than rot­ten; yea many times rotten before it b [...]e ripe. Now for the Stocke which should support her trade: a very little will set her up, and f [...]rre lesse will bring her downe. She will finde friends, if her parts be thereafter. Neither shall shee neede much curiositie in her [...]: onely she must indent with h [...]r brest to bee secret, with her [...] to bee silent, and with her [...] to bee constant. Shee must not tell what shee sees; di­ctate on what shee heares; nor blush at what she enjoyes. Shee must bee modestly seeming strange, where shee most affects, a [...]d relish nothing more than what shee inwardly rejects. To salve the credit of the Punie Clerk her young-Master, she turnes ho­nest woman, and matcheth her­selfe to the Houses Botcher. The [Page 86] necessitie of the time is such, as these hopefull Nuptialls must not stay for a Licence, admit they could purchase it. Delay breedes danger; and so pregnant the wench is growne, as shee doubts lest before she be honoured with the style of Bride, shee become a Mother. But her long experience in law-quirks hath sufficiently in­form'd her; a Childe borne with­in marriage is freed from bastar­dy, and may inherit all their here­ditarie lands, if they had a [...]y. She by this ha's aspi [...]'d to the purchase of a gowne and a f [...]lt: so as shee now wives it, as if shee were Head-Marsh [...]ls wife of the Ward. She ha's got a neate guilded book too, to make her Neighbours con­ceite her to bee a Scholler: but happy were shee if shee were as guiltlesse of lightn [...]sse as of lear­ning: for the Cover, shee may [Page 87] handle it, and upon alledging of a text of Scripture tosse it, but for the C [...]nt [...]ts, as she knowes them not, so she greatly cares not. She now scornes to be so meanly im­ployed in her owne person, as she ha's formerly beene; she ha's got her therefore a brace of Vnder­La [...]ndresses to supply her place, performe her charge, and goe through-stitch with her trade. The sweate is theirs; but the sweete is hers. These must be ac­comptants weekely of their com­mings in; and returne a just parti­cular of all such vailes, profits, or emoluments, as usually or acci­dentally have any way accrued. Shee now stands upon her panto­fles forsooth; and will not wet her hand, lest shee spoyle the graine of her skinne: Mistris Ioan ha's quite forgot that shee was once Iugge. Yet shee keepes [Page 88] [...]ome ancient records of her for­mer youthfull profession. When a Horse growes old, he loseth the marke in his mouth: but it is not so with her, for shee in her age retaines the marke of the beast in her nose, that is flat. Severall waies she ha's to advance her inconstant meanes in severall places: If her continuance in Court purchase [...]er the least scruple of esteeme, by petitionarie course she labours her preferment: but her request [...]ust not be great, because her re­pute is but small. Which upon procurement, must suffer many divisions, subdivisions, and sub­tractions, before she be admitt [...]d to a share. If her aboad in the Ci­tie, hath poss [...]st her mistress [...]s with an opinion of her secrecy: shee is made an usefull agent that way. Nothing ca [...] bee too deare for her: shee becomes a gainefull [Page 89] factor, and though she [...]either doe nor suffer, yet receives shee with both hands from agent and pati­ent. If her residence in any incor­porate societie hath got her e­steeme, her age r [...]ceives for her long service a pencionary recom­pence: meane time exchange of broomes for old shoes, and other vailes of decayed Linnen raise her a maintenance. But like a Bar­bers-ball, with much rinsing and rubbing shee now growes quite wash'd away. She dyes neither ve­ry rich nor contemptibly poore; neither with much love, no [...] great hate. So much she hath reserv'd out of all the labours of her life, as will buy some small portion of diet bread, Comfits, and burnt Claret to welcome in her Neigh­bours now [...]t her departing, of whose cost they never so freely tasted while she was living.

12 A Metall-man

IS nothing lesse than what his name imports. Hee ha's a bee­tle head, and a leaden heele. The Embleme of him is exprest in the hollow-chamell voyce of that walking Trunkhos'd goblin, any ends of gold or siluer? The Arch­artist in this Minerall is the Al­chymist; for the rest are all sublu­narie unto him, hee onely Mer­curie sublimate unto them. His Stoves, Limbecks, and materialls are already provided: his long­acres have beene measured out to m [...]ke his provisions come in. Hee hold [...] himselfe nothing inferiour to Kelley in art, hee onely wi­sheth but himselfe like fate. Seven yeares are now expired, since his [Page 91] Promethean fire received first light; & yet the Philosophers stone may be in Sysip [...]s pocket, for ought that hee knowes. The [...]e is no Artist that ha's more [...] than he, upon lesse grounds. Hee doubts not but before the signe enter Aries, hee-shall like another Iason, purchase a golden fl [...]ece. It is the highest imployment where­in hee ingageth his most intimate friends, to furnish him with suffi­ciency of Brasse, Copper, Pewter, &c. Hee will make the state rich enough, if hee have enough to doe withall. By this, hee thinkes hee sees a corner of the Philoso­phers Stone, yet hee cannot dis­cerne the colour. Hope of profit bereaves him of sleepe; but the cost of his art deprives him of profit. It is a wonder to observe what rare crotchets and [...]evices hee retains purposely to guli him­selfe! [Page 92] What choyce structures [...] intends to erect out of his pure Elixirs! Yea, so farre deluded is hee with the strength of a trans­ported imagination, as one might easily make him beleeve that the reparation of Pauls was onely re­serv'd to be his Master-p [...]ece; and that many of our Duke Humfreys knights expected when he should perfect it. The flourishing Citie­walkes of Moorfields, though de­lightfull, yet not so pretious or beautifull as he will make them. Those sallow-coloured El [...]s, must be turned into yellow-H [...]spe­rian Plants: where every Banke­rupt Merchant may plucke a branch at his pleasure, to resu [...]nish his decayed treasure. O the tran­scendencie of Art! Hee lookes backe at the houre of his Nativi­tie, and by a prob [...]ble argument of the Constellation wherein hee [Page 93] was borne, hee gathers that the Crucible of his braine must be the Indies of this State. Not a mor­ning shines upon him, wherein he expects not before the West re­ceive him, but that his hopes shall enrich him, and those many jeering Mountebanks that attend him. Every dayes experience, be­com [...]s now a pretious observance: which makes him thinke hee drawes neare the shore; and so he doth, for now the ship of his for­tune rides at low water. Yet i [...] he as rich in mountaines of golden conceites and ayrie imaginations as ever hee was: His Speculation in time will make him as rich as a new-shorne-sheepe; but this his wisedom beleeves not. Heyday; what a racket hee keepes? ‘E­levate that tripode; sublimate that pipkin; Elixate your anti­monie; intenerate your Chryso­coll; [Page 94] accelerate our Crucible. Quicke, quicke, the Mint staies for our metall. Let our materials bee infused. Our Art requires your diligence; your diligence ample recompence. How much may one houres remissnesse pre­judice this consequent businesse? Frustrate the States expectance? And perpetually estrange the richest discovery that ever age brought forth, from our Suc­cessours.’ Deare Democritus, hold thy sides or they will cracke else! This diving Paracelsian seekes Amalthea, but findes Amalga. His metalls have more Moone than Sunne in them. How hee tyres himselfe in a wilde-goose­chase? As neere he was yesterday as to day, yet poorer to day than yesterday. His Art ha [...]s arriv'd her secretst port, attain'd her highest pitch. Which makes him now [Page 95] convert his Speculation into admi­ration: wondering that this Stone s [...]ould be so long conceal'd from him. By this time hee encounters with a nimble Quackesalver, who forgeth new [...] to delude him. Hee encourageth [...] i [...] his at­tempt, seconds him with his ad­vice and assistance; purposely to extract out of [...]he decreasing Lim­becke of his fortunes a monethly allowance. H [...]e limits him a time, which expir'd, his hopes are ar­riv'd: but before the time come, this nimble Doctor is flowne. But what more powerfully prevalent than error? All these rubbes shall not draw him from his byas. He will not desist till he see an end of something; and so he may quick­ly, for his fortunes now he a blee­ding But now his expence be­comes more easie and temperate: for though his device be delicious, [Page 96] yet the ebbe of his fortunes makes him in his disbursements more parcimonious, and in distillations lesse pretious. Before the next Moneth end, his art hath wrought out the end of his state: so as this Alchymist becomes All-A-Mist, and Theogenes-like ends in smoak [...]. A Bill must bee now erected, a Chymical Schedule pasted, where his hopefull Utensils were lately reared; and if any m [...]tall'd Sparke will spend some Crownes in the same Science, the Pupill may have a Tutor: whose judgement and pretious experiments hee may use for boord-wages. Now will any one buy a kettle, a Caldron, or a Limbeck? How much is the State deceiv'd in this greatmans master­peece? How his hopes are thaw­ed? His fortunes distilled? And his aymes miserably cloz'd? How this threede-bare Philosophe [...] [Page 97] shruggs, shifts, and shuf [...]les for a cuppe of sixe, whose thirsty desires were once for aurum potabil [...]? Few or none compassionate his infelicitie, save onely the Metall­men of Lo [...]hburie, who expected for their grosser metalls ready vent by meanes of his philoso­phy. His sumptuous fires are now extinguished, the oyle of his lifes lampe consumed, his hopes into impossibilities resolved, and hee in his last Scene on earth, to earth returned.

13. A Neuter

IS an Hedg [...]hog; Who ha [...]h two holes or portalls in his siege; one toward the South, an­other toward the North. Now when the Southern wind blowes, hee stoppes up that hole, and turnes him Northward: Againe, when the Northerne [...] Winde blowes, hee stoppes up that hole likewise, and turnes him South­ward. Such an Vrchin is this Neu­ter, who will suite himselfe with the habit of any profession for lu­cre. Gregorie Nazianzen called Iuli [...]n the Apostata a Cham [...]leon; fo [...] hee could change himselfe into all shapes and colors. Such a Cha­ [...] is the luke-warme Laodi­cean. What aboundance of zeale [Page 99] hee will pretend among the zea­lous? What indifferency among our Timists? How hot he is in pa­lat, but how cold at heart? Hee ha's procur'd a dispensation with his Conscience, that hee may the warilier and wiselier run with the tyde. Hee holds him a simple Christian that will professe pub­likely. what hee holds to bee Or­thodoxall privately. It is his Art to put the wrongside outward; and to dazle the eye of the World with faire showes, and golden shadowes. What Cringes he will make to a rising favorite? How he will mould him to his temper? And scrue himselfe into his know­ledge in servilest manner? His owne shadow cannot bee more inseparably attendant, nor more officiously observant. It is the bent of his studies to dive into his dis­position; and then to apply fuell [Page 100] of his owne provision to feede it. He desires to be nothing lesse than what hee seemes: for hee feares by wearing himselfe too famili­arly in the world, hee might in short time weare himselfe out. A formall Morall zeale calls him to the Church; where hee ha's one Pharisaicall eye to looke up, and an other Publican eye to looke downe. For the Notes which he gathers, they are either worldly­politicall, or none at all. He will resolve of nothing definitely with­out some reservation; but of all others, what religion he will bee of, must be his last resolution. Hee were a wiseman that could catch him in any Tenet that hee holds. Hee admires the d [...] [...]ipline of our Church; but is not [...] resolved as yet to be a member of her. He grounds his saith on what the bravest, not on what the best [Page 101] hold. Preferment is a tender ob­ject to his eye; he affects nought with more fervor; receives nought with more honor; forgoes nought with more displeasure. ‘A Con­science (saith he) I professe; but yet I would not have it so nice­ly scrupulous, as to reject op­portunitie of profit; that con­science is too regular, that maks her master a beggar; He is too Stoicall that is wholly for his Cell, and nothing for the World.’ Thus hee labours to take off the fire-edge from his Conscience, and to coole it; to the end hee may be l [...]sse limited or restrained by it. By which meanes, hee beginnes to bee more secure; since libertie of Conscience tooke from him all grounds of a religious feare. Pro­pose now the way, so it direct him to profit, which hee will not tread with delight. One minutes [Page 102] Taske in the Schoole of vertue tastes of more strictnesse, than I­liads of yeeres in the Temple of Mammon. Hee ha's now taken a course with his Consci [...]ce for qui­etnesse sake, never to call it to an Evening account: that m [...]ght trouble his sleepe, and distemper his next dayes projects. He ha [...]h enough to doe, that hath to doe wi [...]h the World. [...] Con­templations might hinder his pra­ctice that way. Whatsoever there­fore he [...] himse [...]fe to be, he hath made a covenant with his heart to cl [...]ave to the world, as the Remora to the ship: Hee ha's conceived such infinite [...] in it, as he can relish [...] [...]t what savou [...] of it. [...] [...] therefore are those M [...]morials which informe him in this thriving course of godlesse policie: and which hee holds as Maximes in [Page 103] each societie. ‘He will seeme to love the Church, but live by sa­criledge. Honour his L [...]ra, but creepe c [...]nningly into h [...]s [...]. Hold the middle path be­twixt Baal and B [...]thel. Heare much, and observe it, speake little that may be obs [...]rved; and lastly remaine in such s [...]spence in matters of religion, as to bee as farre from resolving at the day of his death, as the houre of his entering.’ Excell [...]nt con­clusions, drain'd from a dangerous sconce, but a farre more dangerous soule. What will this Puffin come to in time? Long ha's hee walk'd in the Clouds; and hung his con­science in so even a ballance b [...] ­twixt Atheisme and Religion as one graine would cast him. How s [...]rious an Instrum [...]nt of Iustice he will shew himselfe towards Re­cusants, upon [...] tou­ [...] [Page 104] th' execution of Penall Sta­tutes? Againe, how remisse and conniving, if hee perceive no such thing intended? It is a singular argument of his wisedome not to fish in troubled waters, nor swim against the streame. Hee makes that use of religion, which men make of upright shoes; to weare them with indifferencie on either foote. Vpon perusall of antient Martyrologies (but seldome is he so well employ'd) he wonders at mens constancie, how they could finde in their heart, by insi­sting on scruples, to deprive them­selves of life and liberty. The paines of compiling so large a vo­lume might have beene sav'd, had all those constant professors b [...]ene possessed of his spirit. Thus hath he liv'd to deceive all the World, and himselfe the most. For hee, who tendered the welfare of no [Page 105] friend; nor relyed on any vertu­ous ground; nor reserv'd one poore minute to meditate of the Supreme good; nor valued ought worthy esteeme, but what the world brought forth; nor ever en [...]ered into consideration of his owne estate; nor accounted o­therwise of reli [...]ion, than as a Cloake; nor of Christianitie, than as a dreame; nor of the whole practice of Pietie, than of [...]umane policie. Behold how his fr [...]ends discard him; hypocrisie arraignes him; his long belull'd Conscienc [...] awakes him; Atheisme con­demnes him; and his desperate contempt of veritie hopelesly tor­ments him! See how this grand Polititian hath deluded himselfe! How this co [...]terfeite picture, who was neither masculine nor feminine Christian, but a Neuter, hath catcht himselfe in his owne [Page 106] [...]rror! His discourse of Heaven, was as of a matter of comple­ment; his treatie of Earth, as of his choicest continent. But now [...]is mouth is fill [...]d with gravell; and that which once che [...]r'd him, hath now choaks him. To his out­ward friends hee walk't in a mist, but to his inward hee c [...]uld [...]ot; by the former as hee was discar­ded, so by the latter is h [...]e disco­vered. Long time hee d [...]spenc'd with Con [...]cience: who [...] h [...]th vow'd no longer [...].

14. An Ostler

IS a [...]ottleman; not a Ba [...]ber in Europe can set a better edge on his razor, than hee can set on hor­ses teeth, to save hi [...] provender. The proverbe is; The masters eye [Page 107] [...] his horse; but the Ostlers starves him. Now, if you desire to h [...]ve your Palfrey make quicke dispatch of his provender, m [...]ke your Ostler his Supervisor, and by nimble co [...]veyance he will quickly make an empty Manger. What a rubbi [...]g and scrubbing hee will make in hope of a small reward at cloze of a reckoning? What hum­ble Obeysance may you expect at his hand, when he prostrates him­selfe in such low service to the heeles of your Horse? Thus la­bours he by currying your beast, to curry favour with your selfe. Hee ha's no Litter [...]re, [...]hough hee trade something [...]are it. He [...] profits out of measure; his Ostrie must not be tide to Winchester. If Oates seeme deare, hee will tell you how much their price quick­ned at every quarter last Ma [...]ket day: and hee ha's one close at his [Page 108] elbow that will second him. Hee will justifie it, that no Hoast on all the Road got his hay so sweetly or seasonably as his Master. Though th [...]re bee Ostlers of all Countreys, yet generally are they Northerne men; and those you shall finde the simplest, but dili­gent'st, and consequently the ho­nestest; for industry and simplicitie are antidotes against knavery. But it is twenty to one, hee will be as neere your Co [...]ntreyman as hee can informe himselfe, purposely to procure your better respect, and purchase the larger reward. Hee will tell you, if hee find you cre­dulous, that your horse hurts at W [...]thers, or hee is hoofe-bound; but referre all unto him, and you shall bee sure to pay both Sadl [...]r and Farrier for nothing. Hee can di­rect you to a pot of the nappiest Ale in all the streete, and conduct [Page 109] you too, so the Tapster know not. Hee ha's sundry petty-officers, as Vnder-Ostlers, Litter-strowers, Boot-catchers, to whom little ac­crues after his deductions. He pro­ [...]esseth some skill in horses, and knowes how to cure diuers mala­dies with Oyle of Oates; but hee will never cure so many as he ha's diseas'd, nor fat so many as he ha's starv'd. To a bare stranger that promiseth but small profit to the Stable, hee will be as peremptorie as a Beadle. He will feed his horse with delayes and demurres, and cause him stay greater guests lea­sure. But how officious the Snake will bee, where hee smels benefit? He speakes in his Ostrie (the chiefe seate of his Hypparchie) like a Frog in a Well, or a Cricket in a Wall. When Guests horses stand at Li­very, he sleepes very little, fearing lest they should eate too much; [Page 110] but at bottle, hee is more secure; howsoever, he ha's a dainty Deu­tifrice that will charme them. Hee is a constant stable man; and here­in onely commendable; consta [...]cy in respect of his place, and humili­tie in respect of his person, makes him both knowne and k [...]avish. He ha's a notable glib veine in vaine discourse: No Countrey can you name, but it is in his verge; his long acquaintance with people of all conditions and Countrie [...], is be­come so Mathematically usefull unto him, as he ha's the Geogra­phicall M [...]ppe of the whole Co [...] ­tinent (so farre as this lland ex­tends) i [...] his illiterate pericranium; which he vents by way of descrip­tion, upon every occasion; and this he makes his weekely Stable­Lecture. He is at very little charge with his [...] but for his [...]alse sh [...]rt and night-cap; which he [Page 111] weares as Ornaments to his p [...]o­fession, and in them acts his daily penance: for it is his use to encoun­ter your Pal [...]ry in a shirt of male, be he male or female. If he rise to any preferment, he may say, Gra­mercy horse; yet will he hardly con­fesse so much. He aspires somtimes to Tapster, holding it the more beneficiall place; but howsoever, better for him, for hee may now d [...]ke of free cost. Long-Win­ter nights watching, and early ri­sing (for hee must bee either the Guests Cocke, or they his) have much foreslow'd his diligence: for now hee will endure a call or two before hee rise. But this is no fault of his, but the diversitie of his occasions: for his desire is na­turally to rise early, and to be of­ficious to his guests before they bee stirring, in giving their horses provender, which they may dis­patch [Page 112] in a trice, before ever their Masters come out of their cham­bers. When hee finds convenient time and leasure, hee will tosse a pot sociably with his Neighbour. But none are so familiar with him as the Smith and Sadler, whom hee is bound to present (upon some private composition) to any Gentleman or other, that shall have occasion to use them. If hee may make so much bold with you, hee will send his commends sweetned with a Nutmeg, by you to the Ostler of your next I [...]ne; & this bege [...]s reciprocall courtesies betwixt them, with titles too, which they are wholly guiltlesse off; as honest Boy; true Blade, &c. But these stiles are but given them by their fellow Ostlers, whose desertlesse commendations exact as much at their hands. If hee be but indifferently honest (as I [Page 113] would have no superlative degrees of honesty in that profession) hee improves the benefit of the In [...] above comparison: All desire to harbour where there is an honest Ostler. Which opinion once pur­chased, hee retaines for ever; and by it strengthens him with his Masters favour. Hee begins now to bee a Landed man by meanes of his honesty and usury. If he [...] have the grace to stay the good houre, hee may succeed his Ma­ster, and by matching with his M [...]stresse rise to Inne-keeper. But this is very rare, for hee is not by halfe so neate a Youth as the Chamberlaine. Long and sore did hee labour in the Spring of his youth, before hee came to reape any crop in the [...] of his age. Hee is now growne resty. P [...]ofit is an alluring bai [...]e, but it cannot make him doe that which [Page 114] hee did. Now hee loves to s [...]ort under the Manger, and sleepe out his time before his departure: yet he cannot endure that any should succeed him in his place, though hee cannot supply it himself. Well, suppose him now drawing on to his last Quarter; some graspes or gripes of mortality hee feeles, which makes him conclude in his owne Element; Grasse and Hay, we are all mortall. Hee could for all this, finde in his heart to live one yeare longer; to compare his last yeares vailes and this toge­ther; and perchance, redeeme his arrerages too with better mea­sure. But his Ostrie is shut up; the Guests gone; their reckoning paid; onely a poore Guest of his owne stayes yet in her I [...]e. and ha's not discharged. But now I see the I [...]e dissolved; the Signe of her being fallen to Earth, and de [...]a­ced [Page 115] and his Inmate lodged, where the great Inne-keeper ha's appointed.

15 A Post-master

IS a Chequerman: who though hee gallop [...]euer so fast, yet can hee hardly with his post ouertake his [...]ay; fo [...] that is alwaies before hand with him. The first question he askes you, (for else he ha's none materiall) Where is your Commissi­on? Though you know the length of his stage, and price of his miles, yet his Post-boy hath horses of all prices: to whom if you bee not liberally minded, looke for no o­ther but to bee lamely mounted. One would verily thinke that hee had some charme in the blast of his horne, for he makes Passengers [Page 116] leave their high-road and give way in the midst of winter, to foundred Hackneys inevitable danger. Hee rides as securely as if hee were in fee with High-way men, before whom hee may whi­stle as merrily as an emptie. Tra­veller, without lea [...]t feare of en­counter. Our Night is his artifici­all day, as hee makes it. There is nothing that gives so terrible a re­port in his eare as a packet of Let­ters, for that postes away at free cost. To save weight hee seldome rides with a band, unlesse it be up­on affaires of highest conse­quence, and then this hopefull sprig holds it no small honour to pride himselfe in the weare of an halter. Hee is generally more perempto­rie than other guides; for you may haue them as you two can a­gree; and they will usually abate of their demands; but two pence [Page 117] halfe pennie a mile is his price, and hee will not abate a denere of it through out all his stage. Hee will discourse with you most cur­sorily, touching what hee heare [...] of matters of state: and to gaine him more esteeme in the opinion of the ignorant, will not sticke to bely his knowledge. Hee is vali­ant, not by naturall instinct, but by vertue of his Commission, which authorizeth him to take way of his betters. Hee can re­tur [...]e a surly answer, or resolve a waggish question, and this is wit enough for one of his profession. He is familiarly vers'd with oaths of all natures; and these hee blu­sters out as frequently, as if they w [...]re his naturall Rhetorick. Hee quarters out his life into foure Cantons, Eating, drinking, slee­ping and riding; but the second and last are two principall ones. [Page 118] H [...]e trusseth up your Port [...]antua wi [...]h all [...] and alacrity, to [...] your good opi [...]ion, but most of all i [...] hope of your boun­ty. H [...]s [...] a [...]e meerely volun­taries, which (so prevalent is cu­stome) hee as constantly expects, as if they were his [...]: your liberality makes him register your name; enroule you amo [...]g his Benefactors; and take notice of you upon your retur [...]e: yet must you continue your munifi­cence, or former Bounties will dive deepe into the Lethe of for­getfulnesse. Hee will bee your servile servant so long as hee tast [...]s of your benevol [...]ce; your pam­pered lade shall not bee foundred of all foure, your palfrey loosely saddled, or budget carelesly trus­sed. Besides, to expr [...]sse a kind of morall remembrance of curtsies received, like a gratefull Gnat, he [Page 119] will recommend your bounty to his succeeding Post-boy, who will accurately furnish you with a dreami [...]g Drom [...]dary, to accele­rate your journey. Hee rides al­together up [...]n spurre, and no lesse is [...] for his dull supporter; who is [...]s familiarly acquainted with a [...]anterbury, as hee who makes Chaucer his Author, is with his Tale; and who by sore expe [...]ence and spur-ga [...]'d dili­ge [...]ce is growne well-neare as in­telligible as his M [...]ster, in the di­stance of his stage; further than which it is impossible to hale him. Hee rides most commonly with on [...] spurre; and to him that is so inquisitive, as hee will de­mand the reason of it, hee can rea­dily shape him this waggish an­swer; Hee holds two superfluous, for if the one [...]ide of his lad [...] goe for­ward, hee thinkes hee will not leave [Page 120] the other behind. Hee becomes in short time an excellent Farrier; which knowledge he attaines out of his owne proper but bitter ex­perience: for his Stable is a very shop of all diseases; Glanders, Yellowes, Fashions, Maladers, Curbs, Scratches, Staggers, Stran­gles, Ringbones, Windgalls, Na­velgalls, Bogspavings, with a My­riad more of practicall contin­gents become his familiar ac­quaintance. On these hee daily practiseth, but rarely cureth. A Packe of Dogs he usually keepes, which hee feedes with the provi­sion of his owne Stable: For hee that us'd to carry one, in short space becomes Carrion. He holds shooes usel [...]sse implements, for hee seldome rides a bootl [...]sse [...]r­rand. And now drawing neare the end of his stage, he is neither much wiser nor richer, then when hee [Page 121] first entred the world. His life as it properly resembles a post, (for it cannot have relation to an apter comparison) is now very nearely runne out a breath. And yet ob­serve the miserable condition of this Horse-fly! Though hee never gained farther experience in the whole course of his life than the practise of some curelesse cures, the distance of his owne stage, to give a windy summons with his horne, and to hoise a pot of ale at the doore, yet nothing is so bitter to him as the remembrance of his dissolution. His life was a Labor, his age a Pilgrimage, his service servitude. No rest, no repose, poor repast tasted hee on earth: yet preferres hee this Labour before a quiet and reposed harbour. Many yeares ha's hee spent to small pur­pose; his hours are uselesse; his endeavours fr [...]itlesse; and now [Page 122] after such a quotidian feaver of an Hectick [...] labour, being fallen from his horse, and out of request (by a writ of ea [...]e) with that science he becomes wormes provender: for his Legac [...]es, they are to bee dis­charged out of arrerages [...]rom the Exchequer.

16. A Quest-man

IS a man of account for this yere: yet of [...] such honour i [...] New­Troy, as he was in Old-Rome. He never goes withou [...] his Note­booke, w [...]ich. [...] [...]ee have so much Lati [...]e, he [...] [...]is VADE ME­CVM. Wher [...] i [...] he ha' [...] th [...] names of all the [...], middle. size­men, and [...], wi [...]hin his whole Ward. And this is all the m [...]thod [...] is r [...]quired in his [Page 123] Common-place book. He is a sworne man; which Oa [...]h serves an [...]n­junction upon his Conscience to be honest Howsoever, hee must bee brought to accompt for it. The day of his Election is [...]ot more ready for him, than h [...] fo [...] it. Hee assumes upon h [...]m a parcell of ill­b [...]seeming gravit [...]e; strokes his beard, as if it were the Dew-lap of his conce [...]te; fetcheth an imper­ti [...]ent [...], purpo [...]ely to pump for more wit; and co [...]cludes with a set punctual gesture, laying his soape-besmeared hand upon his reverend brest: God make me an honest man. Whence he most ingenuously implyes, that hee is not as yet, made that man hee should be: but much may be done in time. Hee keep [...]s an [...]speciall Register of all such [...]nmates a [...] ne­stle within his Ward: whose po­vertie must be squeezd to eas [...] the [Page 124] richer; yet sleighted with neglect for their labour. These hee visits qua [...]terly, which visitation they (poore Gnats) may properly tearme a plague; which in time they recover of, for it leaves not a token. Some treasure he hath un­der his hand, which hee must re­turne; hee can convert very little to his owne use, nor defeate the Parish of any house rent: for hee ha's as wise men as himselfe in the Ward, who now in his lifetime are made his Supervisors, to looke to his fingers, that the pretended gravitie or reverence of his person authorize him not to abuse his place. This makes many more un­willing to be so dignified; because much labour but small profit is to accrue it. Yet his wifes Pew in the Church is a mighty motive: for by this meanes shee becomes exalted according to the dignitie [Page 125] of his office, which with a most supercilious zeale she accepts; and doub [...]s not but some of her neigh­bours will envie it. This place hath not put on more reverence in him, than state on her. Eye but her postures, and you will confesse it. Her eye is wandring, wooing observance. Her f [...]ote most gin­gerly paced, for more state-reser­vance. Her tougue too civ [...]cally mincing, for vulgar attention. Meane time, this Questman he [...] husband, the better to enable him for his place, becomes frequently versed in sundry ancient Presi­dents. He casts his eye behi [...]de him, to see wh [...]t was done before him: and hee smiles at the sim­plicitie of his preceeding Officers; and turning to himselfe, most Sagely concl [...]des: The [...]e wanted thy sconce Boy. He is now a [...]mit­ted (by [...] of the reverence [Page 126] of his haires) to the Learned Counsell of the Ward. Where he shoots his bolt with the fore­most. Some Orders or Parochiall constitutions, hee ha's beene long studying, which he purposeth the next Revestrie day to present to the rest of his worshipfull Bre­thren, to the end they may bee put in speedy execution. But l [...]ke good purposes, (the more is the pitty) they seldome take. After Evening prayer time, he descends immediatly into the low Gallery, which he with the rest of the wise masters make their Consistorie. Where (like good Parishioners, studious of the publike good) they treat of all such abuses as are crept into the body of their Ward. While their censures become as [...]ifferent, as their persons; their voyces as their places. One shewes [...]imselfe a Paracelsian, and hee [Page 127] professeth the cure of these mala­dies by mineralls and incisions; an­other a Dioscoridan, and he holds them more curable by leniments, emplasters, and unctions; the third a meere Mountebanke Florentine, who wraps up his receits in a remnant of Rhetoricall bombast, but never returnes one healthfull patient. So long, and as fruitlesse as long, debate they the cause and cure of these [...]normities, till an aged nod or two dissolve their Councell: and summon them to a new [...] upon expence of halfe pints a peece. Where they fall in, till some argument, where­of they are ignorant, make them fall out. All which time our [...] scornes to bee silent; as one desirous rather to speake to no purpose, [...]han not to speake at all. Some quaint words hath he got, which he u [...]derstands not; [Page 128] and these he useth upon all occa­sions. Neither are they more ig­norantly delivered by him, than they are pittifully ad [...]ired by them. It is a strange thing to ob­serve how much he [...] is improved since the last yeere: Neither is it possible to dive into the reason of it. For [...]ither is there some admi­rable secret facultie concealed from the judgement of man, in the Lining of a furr'd gowne, or else it is to bee wondred at, whence this late-bred sufficiencie of his should proceede. But in this surely h [...]e shewes himselfe most wise, in that hee communi­cates not his knowledge to any but the ignorant: for it is that makes his judgement passe for cur­rant. But his yeere is now upon expiration; and his Account drawing to his preparation. Where Honestie and [...] [Page 129] m [...]ete, there cannot chuse but bee a good account. And in him nei­ther can b [...]e wanting; for his b [...]ard shewes the one, and his place proves the other. Hee can­not now shew himselfe so shallow nor appeare so silly, but hee will retaine the opinion of a deepe­head-peece: For hee is now o [...]e of the Seniours. A very small por­tion of understandi [...]g, and lesse of wit, will serve him to spinne out the remainder of his time. For a Cipher in some place stands in more account, than a figure doth in another. What rests now, but that he rest, since his rents are col­lected, his account perfected, him­selfe discharged, and another pew­fellow, equall to him both for worth and wit, by generall vote and voice elected?

17. A Ruffian

IS a roring Dam without a Ruffe. None more valiant than hee in tongue, lesse resolute in heart. He ha's vow'd to bee ill-condition'd in all Companies; and to presse a quarrell rather than misse it. A white-liver'd Souldier and a Gal­lant is the fittest patient hee can practise on. One would thinke his very language would fall at ods with it selfe, and out-brave the Speaker. He ha's a dangerous eye, not to strike (for so I meane not) but to move ones patience to strike him. For a kinde of un­civile contempt doth alwayes at­tend his looke, as base provoking language accompanies his tongue. Hee hath ranked himself with a [Page 131] troope of shallow uncivile Shal­lops, like himselfe: whose chiefest valour consists in braves, scru'd faces, desperate mouchato's, new­minted Oaths; all which moulded together, make a terrible quarter in an Ordinarie. He weares more metall on his heele, than in his purse. He triumphs damnably on some stolne favour, bee it lighter than a feather, and threatens mis­chiefe to him that will not pledge her. But it falls out many times, that he is bastinado'd out of this humour. You shall best distin­guish him by a nastie neglectfull carriage, accoutred with disdaine and contempt, so as his very coun­tenance is a Letter of Challenge to the beholder. Those which know him, rather jeere him, than feare him: for they experimentally know, that a Pigmey would beat him. And with such (forasmuch [Page 132] as his shoulders have felt their cen­sure) hee keepes a faire and ci­vile quarter. His Soveraignty is showne highest at May-games, Wakes, Summerings, and Rush­bearings: where it is twentie to one but hee becomes beneficiall b [...]ore he part, to the Lord of the Man our by meanes of [...] bloody nose or a broken pate. Hee will now and then for want of a better Subject to practise on, squabble with the Minstrell, and most he­roically break his Drone, because the Drone cannot rore out his tune. The wenches poore soules, sh [...]ke in their skinnes, fearing a mischiefe: and intreat their [...] ­hearts to give him faire language. All is out a square while hee is there. But th [...]se are but his [...] pagea [...]ts. Hee will i [...]trude most frontl [...]sly into any Compa­ny; and advance himsel [...]e with [Page 133] the highest at an Ordinari [...]; yet many times hee eates farre more than hee can defray; yea, now and then hee receives where hee should disburse; a kicke, I meane, from some surly Naprie groome, which serves in full discharge of his Commons. Never crept far­dell of worser qualities into more choyce and select companies. But these hee cannot consort with long. For their Purses are too strong-string'd, their hearts too well- [...], their hands too truly-metal'd to veile to his b [...]senesse. He must be discarded, and with disgrace, if he haste not. Suppose him then with his restie regiment dropping out of a three­pennie Ordinarie: where the last mans Cloake is sure to bee seaz'd on for all the reckoning. But when the Cooke eyes it more precisely, and considers how irreparably it [Page 134] is aged, hee will not take it in full satisfaction of his hungry Com­mons, without some other pawne: which for feare of Clubbes, they submissively condescend to: by disroabing one of their Compli­ces, who may best spare it, of an ancient Buff-jerkin; whose lapps you may imagine, by long use, so beliquor'd and belarded, as they have oyle enough to frie them­selves without any other material. Yet they cannot pocket up this in­dignitie with patience: wherefore they vow to be revenged, which for most part, is as basely clozed. Next night the [...]efore, these nittie Ha [...]ters intend with strong hand to breake his glass [...]indow's, or at dead-time of night to pull downe his Signe: and so ends their faire quarrel. To a play they wil hazard to go, though with never a rag of mon [...]y: where after the second [Page 135] Act, when the D [...]ore is weakly guarded, they will make sorcibl [...] entrie; a knock with a Cudgell is the worst; whereat though they grumble, they rest pacified upon their admittance. Forthwith, by violent assault and assent, they aspire to the two-pennie roome; where being furnished with Tin­der, Match, and a portion of de­cayed Barmoodas, they smoake it most terribly, applaud a prophane jeast unmeasurably, and in the end grow distastefully rude to all the Companie. At the Conclu­sion of all, they single out their dainty Doxes, to clozeup a fruit­lesse day with a sinnefull evening. Whereto (truth is) they repaire, rather for releefe then to releeve: yea, their house of sin becomes oft­times their house of Correction: for when they will not pay for what they call for, Lais and her Laun­drie [Page 136] will returne them their pay­ment by assistance of such familiar Inmates, as she will make bold to call for. But suppose now this Ty [...]darian Tribe dispersed, out of all civile societies discarded, and with no better entertainment than contempt, wheresoever received. Our Ruffian ha's left his Mates, and they him. Povertie ha's now seaz'd on him; for his braine, it is as barren of a shift, as his backe guiltlesse of a shirt. Those Iron tooles of his, with which hee af­frighted his Scar-crowes, hang now in Long-lane for a signe of the Sword and Buckler. His slasht Suite, like L [...]bels or tart-papers hang peeee meale, estrang'd both from substance and colour. His yingling sp [...]rre hath lost his voyce, his head his locke; yea, his decay­ed Lungs the puff of a R [...]rer. The wall now must bee no Subject of [Page 137] quarrell; nor his distended Mou­ch [...]to a Spectacle of terrour. The extreamest effects of hunger, have taken him off from standing upon points of honour. He would glad­ly encounter with death if hee durst: But there was such distance betwixt him and the remembe­rance of it, during the whole pro­gresse of his unfruitfull life, as now it startles him to entertain [...] the least thought of death. Yet may this bee one of his inferiour comforts, hee leaves nothing be­hind him, that may bee termed properly his owne, that is worth enjoying. In a word, he cannot be so wearie of the World, as it was long since of him. Never was Creature lesse usefull or more un­fruitfull; Let it content hi [...], that hee hath prevented that contempt by dying, which hee should have i [...]curred dayly by living.

18. A Sayler

IS an Otter; an Amphibium that lives both on Land and Water. Hee shewes himselfe above Hat­ches in shape like a male Meere­maid, visible to the halfe body. Hee stands at his [...], and holds out his hand to you, as if he craved your more acquaintance: where, though hee tell you, that hee is your first man, doe not be­leeve him: for his founder Zabu­l [...]n was long after Adam. Hee never shewes himselfe nimbler, nor contests with his fellowes with more active vigour, than in shoot­ing the Bridge at a Low water. Hee will hazard a life in a whirle­wind without feare, rather than lose the benefit o [...] his Fare. The [Page 139] bredth of an inch-boord is be­twixt him and drowning, yet he [...] sweares and drinks as deepely, as if hee were a fathom from it. His familiarity with death and dan­ger, hath armed him with a kind of dissolute security against any encounter. The Sea cannot rore more abroad, than hee within, fire him but with liquor. Hee is as watchfull as a Crane in a storme, and as secure as a Dormo [...]se in a calme. In a tempest you shall heare him pray, but so ametho­dically, as it argues, that hee is sel­dome vers'd in that practice. Feare is the principall motive of his de­votion; yet I am perswaded, for forme sake, he shewes more than hee feeles. Hee loves to fish in troubled waters, have an Oare in every mans boate, and to breake the tenth Commandement in the conclusion of his lukewarmepray­er; [Page 140] Hey, for a rich prize. He [...] lives in a tottri [...]g state, and he sits himselfe to it. Hee is as constant as the Moone in his resolves. So hee can have Sea-roome, no coast holds it selfe to bee of more firme Land. If hee play the Sea-sharke, and advance his fortunes by a pre­cious prize: yet to spare his Exe­cutors that labour, hee intends a course to leave them few ends of gold or silver. Hee must feede his valour with the liquid sp [...]rit of some piercing Elixer: and thus hee ducks and dives out his time like a true Didapper. Hee makes small or no choice of his pallet; he can sleepe aswell on a Sacke of Pumice as a pillow of downe. He was never acquainted much with civilitie: The Sea ha' [...] taught him other Rhetoricke. Compassionate himselfe hee could never much, and much lesse another. He ha's [Page 141] condition'd with the Sea not to make him sicke: and it is the best of his conceite to jeere at a [...]uea­sie stomacke. Hee is more active than contemplati [...]e, unlesse h [...] turne Ast [...]nomer, and that is on­ly in cases of extremity. He is most constant to his shirt, and other his seldome-wash'd linnen. He ha's been so long acquainted with the surges of the Sea, as too long a calme distempers him. He cannot speake low, the Sea talkes so lo [...]d. His advice is seldome taken in na­vall affaires; though his hand be s [...]rong, his head-peece is stupid. He is used therefore as a necessary in­strument of action: for hee can spinne up a rope like a Spider, and downe againe like a lightning. T [...]e rope is his roade, and the top­mast his Beac [...]n. One would think his body were wounded, for hee weares pitch cloath upon it: but [Page 142] that is invulnerable, unlesse a bul­let casually finde out a Loope-hole, and that quite ripps up his Saile­cloath. He partakes much of the Chameleon, when hee is mounted the top-mast: where the ayre is his Diet-bread. His visage is an unchangeable var [...]ish; neither can winde pierce it, nor Sunne parch it. He ever takes worst rest when he goes to bed most sober. Hee will domineere furiously in the height of his Potation, but hee is quickly cudgell'd out of that humour by the Master of the house of Cor­rection. Hee ha's coasted many Countreys, arrived sundry havens, sojourned in flourishing Cities, and conversed with various sorts of people: yet call him to account, and you shal find him the unfruit­full'st Navigatour that ere you conversed with. Deepe drinkers have ever shallow memories: He [Page 143] can remember nothing more pre­cisely, than the great vessel at Hei­delberg; affaires of [...]tate are above his sconce. It is his best Arithme­tick to remember his months pay: and if necessitie urge him not, hee would scarcely thinke on that ei­ther. What a starveling hee is in a frosty morning with his Sea­frocke, which seemes as if it were shrunke from him, and growne too short, but it wil be long enough ere hee get another? His Signe is alwayes in Aquarius, unlesse hee bee in his pots, and then it is in Aries. Hee is of a Phlegmatick watry constitution; very little Sanguine, unlesse it bee in a Sea­fight; wherein, though he expect no honour, he expresseth some dy­ing sparkes of valour, in hope to become sharer in a pyraticall trea­sure. Hee hath an invincible sto­mack, which Ostridge-like could [Page 144] well-neare digest iron. He is very seldome subject to surfet, or shor­ten the dayes of his watry P [...]lgri­mage with excesse: unlesse it fall out upon rifling of Wines, that he endanger his Top-saile with an over-charge. He is many times so long on Sea, as hee fo [...]gets his friends by Land. Associats hee ha's, and those so constantly clea­ving, as one voyce commands all. Stares cannot bee more faithfull in their society, than these Hans­kins in their fraternity. They will brave it valiantly, when they are ranked together, an [...] relate their adventures with wonderfull ter­ror. Yet these relations ever halt through want of Learning, which defect abridgeth the story of their deserving. Necessary instruments they a [...]e, and Agents of maine im­portance in that Hydrarchy wher­in they live; for the walles of [Page 145] their state could not subsist with­out them: but least usefull they are to themselves, and most need­full of others supportance. They taste of all waters and all weathers: onely the gale of prosperitie sel­dome breathes on their sailes: neither care they much for any such Companion. They [...]epe without feare of loosing what they enjoy; and in enjoying lit­tle, they share in the lesse burden of cares. Yet it is much to bee wondred at, that our Sayler should have such frequent occasi­on to erect his eye upward, and retaine such servile dejected thoughts inward. He converseth with the Starres, observes their motions, and by them directs his Compasse▪ Singular notions de­rives hee from them, meane time hee is blind to Him that made them. He sliceth the depths, and [Page 146] is ignorant of Him that confine [...] them; he cutteth the surging swel­ling waves, and thinks not of Him that restraines them; he coasteth by the shel [...]s, and forgets Him that secures him. True is that Maxime; Custome takes away the apprehension of passion. In the in­fancy of his Pro [...]ession, there ap­peared not a billow before his eyes, which convey'd not a feare unto his heart. Numerous perils ha's hee now passed, hourely ob­jects of approaching danger are presented, yet these aswell as those equally sleighted. Death he ha's seene in so many shapes, as it can­not amate him, appeare it never so terrible unto him. Yet needs must that Enemy affright him against whom hee comes, for whom hee was never provided before hee came. Well; suppose him now [...]rawing towards the Port, where [Page 147] all mortalitie must land. Hee ha's tugg'd long enough upon the Maine, he must now gather up his vessels within the haven. He ha's drawne in his sayles and taken adew of the Sea: unlesse she shew him so much kindnesse, as to re­ceive him into her briny bosome, and intombe him dying, whom she entertained living: which cour­tesie if she tender him, the wormes are deceived by him, for hee goes not the way of all flesh, but the way of all fish, whose fry feedes on him, as their foref [...]thers fed him.

19. A Traveller

IS a Iourneyman; but can never bee freeman, till hee bee end [...]ni­zed in his owne Countrey. Hee is troubled with a perpe [...]uall mi­grim; [Page 148] at Sea hee wisheth to bee on Land, and on Land at Sea. Hee makes his life a right Pilgrimage, for hee finde [...] no place to abide in, but only to [...]ojourne in: so as the wandring Iew may bee his Em­bleme. The whole World is his Inne, where savage beasts aswell as reasonable men are his Inmates. Hee converseth with all Nations, and p [...]rtakes of their natures: wh [...]rein generally, [...]ice becomes a more attractive object than ver­tue. Whence it is, that hee oftner i [...]proves his knowledge, than his [...]; his language, than carriage. Hee takes a survey of this uni­verse, in the sites of Cities, Coun­tries a [...]d Provinces; and observes what s [...]emes most remarkeable; meane time hee observes himselfe so sleightly, as o [...]e can hardly di­stinguish the substance from the sh [...]dow. Now hee is for lanching [Page 149] i [...]to the deep [...]; to [...] stat [...]s; [...], [...] himselfe all the [...] [...] ­dy age wher [...]in [...] out some [...] or other from [...] make his fruitles [...] [...] [...] ­lued, himselfe [...] his re [...]urne mor [...] [...]. [...] will usually lose [...] [...] ­lated discourse of [...] [...]: and if his memory [...], [...]mpe hi [...] [...]. [...], ye [...], n [...]w [...]nd [...] absurd [...] [...] ­cipall Subject o [...] [...] upon rare [...] [...]ments, which hee [...] su [...]h [...] [...], as [...] his [...] [...] er [...]han [...] [Page 150] blazons as if he were their Herald: styling Constantinople the store­house of Greece; Paris the regall of France; Venice the eye of Italy; Flo­rence the Seat of Beauty; Rome the Lady Citty▪ with her imprese: OR­BIS IN VRBE. In which, as in all things els, he is meerely titular. He can mould himselfe to all conditi­ons, fashions & religions. But in all these three hee returnes for most part, far worse than before he went forth. In the first he ha's learn'd to be loose & lascivious; in the [...]econd, phantastically humorous; in the third, strangely superstitious. Some things hee observes worth remembring, if hee liv'd in an o­ther age: but like an understan­ding Timist, hee holds no concur­rence with that fashion, which a­g [...]ees not with the humour of his Nation. Having now chang'd his ayre, and with continuance, his [Page 151] h [...]ire, but not one of his [...]onditions; he reviewes his owne Cou [...]trey with a kind of disdainefull loa­thing, as if there were nothing in it worthy l [...]ving. He disvalues out rarities, disesteemes our beauties, j [...]eres at our complement, slights our entertainem [...]nt, and clozeth up his u [...]seasoned distaste with an interjection of admiration: O the rare objects that I have seene in my dayes! Then hee runnes on in a meere verball circuit of affected discourse, which the ignorant one­ly admire, and weaker than wome [...] affect. Meane time, hee introdu­ceth some conceits of his owne, as fashions in r [...]quest: Whi [...]h hee seconds with high approv [...]t, being his owne [...]. A [...]d that hee might represent in himselse this patterne of perfecti­on, and move others to imitate his postures: you may suppose him [Page 152] walking, like one [...]ade up [...] [...]; [...] him, nor [...] [...]ooke [...]o [...], no [...] [...] [...]composed [...] accoutre him. With [...]hat c [...]pt he [...] [...] com [...] ▪ Co [...]gie? And as if it we [...] [...], to a man of hi [...] pl [...], [...] to observe his distance, [...] a [...] or [...]od▪ aswell as pace▪ [...] will rectifie that error too, to make those Co [...]orts with [...]hom hee deignes to converse, or com [...]ate himsel [...]e▪ every way acc [...]d as himselfe. He [...] hol [...] [...] [...] much ingag'd to his o [...]ces: so highly hath [...] with him▪ [...] b [...]ught [...] [...]o [...]. Now▪ should [...]ee [...] [...]p [...] ▪ [...] collect the be­ [...] [...] of his Tra­ [...] ▪ [...] expence of his [...]; [...] [...]ould [Page 153] [...] his [...] g [...]eat, his [...] [...]ts small: his [...]s [...] short of hi [...] d [...]. Hee is [...], ind [...]d, in that which this age calls co [...]t Hee is all for your Serv [...] Ser­va [...], and titles of lowest obser­vance. Hee overcomes his Mi­stresses stomach with this overlar­ded protest; ‘He lives not but by her, nor desires to live but for her; hee plants his love in an equall diameter betweene Bellon [...] and Minerv [...], reason and courage’; yet is hee no lesse barraine of the one, than coole in the other. Or else, hee marrieth with his instrument his voyce, matched with an Italian Canto, and ayr'd with more [...], than hee ha's pence in his Budget. This is the vintage of his Pilgri­mage. He hath traced this Th [...] of earth, and made himselfe the [Page 154] Embleme of what hee is; much hath hee seene, with many hath hee convers'd, and a full view hath hee taken of this inferiour globe. Div [...]rsity of soiles, variety of fruits, multiplicity of creatures h [...]ve his eyes enjoyed, yet rest not satisfied; through many Coasts and Countreyes hath hee travel­l [...]d, yet his experience in those peoples natures little improved; In sundry Citties hath hee sojor­ned, yet from their knowledge now estranged. Merchants of un­valued fortunes hath hee seene splitted, while their factors sported; ruin'd while they rioted. Cur [...]izans hee hath observed, their sumptu­ous state, the fuell of their mainte­nance, and how their Comick Scenes ever clozed with tragick Catastrophe [...]s. Forraine savorites hath hee marked, their projects, designes, [...]vents: What faire flou­rishes [Page 155] their first admittance to their Princes p [...]esence shewed; how soone tho [...]e fading blossoms of vading glory were nipped. Stately and sumptuous statues of victorious Champions hath hee eyed, their inscriptions perused, and trampled upon those scattred ashes (the remaines of a greater worke) which sometimes were with the b [...]eath of fame enlive­ned. Thus great stones are become great mens covers. No distinction betwixt the Noble and Ignoble, save onely that the higher Peer [...] is crushed with the heavier pils. High and goodly structures brought to rubbish, and flourish­ing states to ruine, hath hee noted. And now drawing towards his owne native so [...]le; hee admireth nothing more, than to see hospita­lity so much honoured abroad, and so contemp [...]ible at home. [Page 156] [...] Househol­ [...] [...] [...]. He goes to the [...] knocks, but the Court [...]a's swallow'd vp the hall; this complete Peregrine may soo­ner breake his nocke thun his fast; which makes him cry out most passionately, forth of a sensible compassion of his owne necessity: O the [...] of Hospitality which I have seene! But by this time, his Carier [...] through the world hath made him wearie. He ha's a great desire for the benefit of his Countrey (as hee pretends) to communicate these leane scraps of his starved Travailes to the world. Publish'd hee would have them (according to the Erata's of his life): in folio: but so indigested [Page 157] are his collections, and so illabo­rate his style, as the Stationer shunnes them like a Noli me tan­gere, fearing their sale. Well; though the World will not receive them; long winter-nights and his Neighbours credulous eares shall enter [...]aine them. Where ha­ving told his tale, hee hopes out of the wide Circumference of his Trav [...]iles, to find so much ground as will afford him a grave.

20. An Vndersheriffe.

IS a master of fence; and by de­putation, the Co [...]ntenance of of the County wherein hee lives▪ The Kings Letters he opens as fa­miliarly, as if they were but neigh­bourly commends: and bring [...] more unwelcome salutes from the [Page 158] Prince, to his Subject, than he hath thanks for. Wai [...]es and straies hee impounds in his pocket: for Fe­lo [...]s goods, hee compounds for them at his owne rate: all which hee doth by vertue of his Office, if there bee any vertue extant in it. A terrible pudder hee keepes with his repledges and distresses: the State could hardly subsist without such a grave▪ Censor. Hee profes­seth more execution than judge­ment. A great portion of his dis­cretion is incorporated in his Whi [...]e staffe: which is as terrible to a yealous debter, as deaths head to an [...]surer. If hee attemper his Office with the balme of con [...]i­vence, it bindes an ample recom­pence. Next to whetting ones knife at the Counter-gate, I hold it the [...] assay to affront him▪ If you would gratifie him, a better turne you cannot doe him, [Page 159] than by turning Informer at the Sheriffs turne. Where, present­ments of decayed wayes, But [...], Blood-sheds, with other enormi­ties, are no lesse beneficiall to the publike state in their redresse, than to his private stocke upon the di­stresse. Notable cunning Terriers hee hath besides, of all sorts and sizes; some to rouse and raise his game; Others of lighter temper to have it in hot pursuit: the last sort on whom hee principally re­lyes, being stronger and stiffer, to cloze & grapple with his prey, and bring it downe. Thus hee sh [...]wes himselfe every way more active than [...]. Hee is of an excellent memory: for if you can­not remember your debts your selfe, hee will put you in mind of them. His head is many times full of Proclam [...]tions, which, hee can­not rest, till hee vent. Hee would [Page 160] make a strange Secretarie, for hee will not sticke to cry at the Crosse, what hee heares. Hee tenders all serviceable observance to his Su­periours, a kind of slight acquain­tance to his equalls, but a disdain­full contempt to his inferiours. By helpe of some Law-presidents, he retaines the elements of that pro­fession, which hee makes singular use of: though he [...] bee no sworne Att [...]rney, hee can accept grat [...]i­ties in lien of fees; and by meanes of his i [...]bred ingenuity, alter the propriety of them. He is much con­versant in the Statutes: imploy­ing a great part of his time in an usefull exposition, or rather inversi­on of them. He would gladlybring in profit, and keepe him [...]elfe within compasse of statute. This is the the highest pitch of knowledge, which his vocation calls him to: and this hee hopes conference and [Page 161] experience in time will bring him to. Authority is his sole Subter­fuge in all his extremities: which (by abusing his Author) many times leaves him in his own hand. In the Subject of wr [...]gs; he is oft­ner active than passive. None can justly lay an aspersion on him, which hee hath not some under­hand [...] to take to. It is his constant Te [...]et; So long as the root holds untainted, the inferiour sprigs and si [...] may bee suppor­ted: but when it growes shaken, the branches must needs suffer. So long as hee holds up his head, his Nits may finde har­bour: but squeaze him, and and they are starv'd for ever. Hee yearely improves his place by some usefull proiect or other, which hee leaves as a Memoriall of his love, and argument of his wit to all succeeding Professors in [Page 162] that Cra [...]t. He never serv'd as Ap­prentice to Plasterer or Mason, and yet hee knowes the craft of da [...]bing; and hee will lay it on before hee suffer disgrace. Crimes require Curtaines; Spiders their [...]auls. Places of Office must be un­ct [...]s if vici [...]s. But service is no inheritance; lest therefore in pro­cesse of time, either hee should grow wearie of his place, or his place of him; like a provident Pismire, hee beginnes now in his Summer, to store up against wi [...] ­ter. Fi [...] and amercia [...]ents must inhaunce his rents and heredita­ments: for which he contracts now and then with the Clerke of the Market, whom he palpably guls, and consequently proves; All Clerkes are not the wisest men. Such a parcell of ground buts neer him, and is an eye-sore to him: gladly would he have it, though [Page 163] the owner have neither mind nor neede to sell it. His braines must plot for this purchase; and his witty Genius, after long plod­ding, hath found a way to supple him. Contempts, which this sim­ple Snake never dream'd of, must be forth with levied. No interplea nor demurre will serve; he must timely prevent the occasion, and remove the ground (which is the ground- [...]ork of his disquiet) from him and his heires for ever, by ac­cepting a low price to purchase his owne peace, and make the Vn [...]ersheriffe his friend. Of two extreams the lesse is to be chosen; thus s [...]rues he himsel [...]e i [...]to every convenient bargaine. By this time, so important are his affaires at home, as they estrange him from employments abro [...]d. His nim­ble f [...]rrets must [...]ow b [...]ome Pi­oners for their [...]; [...]ho coupes [Page 164] them, lest they should grow too fat to endure labour. Suppose him then, who was once a man in his time, and an experienc'd professant; One, who had beene acquanted with most [...]rits except holy writ; served Precepts many, but observed few; retired like a Cricket to his Oven-mouth: where he warmes himselfe well without, having cold comfort to warme him within. During the whole progresse of his time hee was for gathering, the residue of his dayes hee be [...]owes in dispo­sing. Hopefull Cubbs he hath to conferre his hopelesse state on. No matter; their [...]arth-resolving fathers fines make them fine; his amerci [...]ents cause them div [...] deepe into the Mercers booke. Now the Webbe of his fading fortunes i [...]terwoven with the in­jurious warp of dishonest practi­ces, [Page 165] is to b [...] divi [...]d [...] i [...] sh [...]dds and [...]. So mu [...]h hee [...] [...]d h [...]ire, wh [...] [...] [...]o [...] [...]irst and last of h [...] [...], [...] to his second; so much [...]o his [...]rd: with comp [...] portio [...], to b [...]t­ter his daughters proportion [...]. Meane time, (see the fatall over­ture of this wisemans providence!) He is called to an accompt before his time, (yet all in due time) for ar [...]erages to the High-sheriffe his Master, and abuse of his place. His whole estate will hardly re­pay the st [...]. Hee would gladly come off faire, and I cannot blame him: But his Pi [...]ce road still at Harbour till now: an unexpe­cted [...]mpest hath assailed him: And he [...]ust make speedy restitu­tion for all his pillage. Hee could dispense well enough with Con­science, and gaine by the C [...]ntract: [Page 166] but the misery of it is, hee findes himselfe now at last a prisoner and in bonds to the Sheriff [...]; whereby hee stands bound to keepe him harmel [...]sse (but well had it beene for his Countrey if he had prov'd so:) which securitie is the argu­ment of his T [...]agedie. It w [...]e not amisse that hee altered his Will, and (though much against his will) made his Mast [...]r his sole Exec [...]tor. It must bee so: Thus by prolling to get all, hee ha's fool d himselfe out of all: O [...]ely, hee may goe with more peace to Earth, since hee ha's made so cleare account on Earth. It were a si [...]ne to disq [...]iet him, since hee [...] his Quie [...]us est with him.

21. A Wine-soaker

IS an ingenious Engine, that runsA [...]. on Wheeles. If one of the wits, he is a m [...]rry Cricket, or a mud­dy Criticke; a wittie waggish Brain [...]-worme, and can solely hug a pot, as if it were his darling. He is mighty valiant, for he dare be drunke; And desperate if hee bee challenged, for his weapons are pot-g [...]ns. By this time hee hath called the Drawers rogues, with much facilitie, yet (as hee is a true Northerne Blade) joyes in their felicitie. And now, for it growes late, he hath had his Eve­ning lecture, and trenching home, suppor [...]ed by his friendly Impres­s [...]r, makes every foote an Inden­ture. Hee calls the Scavingers [Page 168] wife familia [...]ly [...] [...]ough [...] be as [...] as o [...] of [...] [...]gher [...]. [...], [...]rough [...] of, long [...] f [...]ll (if the Cell [...] [...] be open) and unsealing hi [...] eyes, seeing the consorts of iniquitie, cli [...]ging close to a pot in the nooke of a Chim­ney, hee [...]owes himselfe thrice blest to have fallen into so sweete and sociable a Company. By this, hee falls further; whence a P [...] ­danticall [...] starts up, and askes him; What sayes th [...] Pr [...] ­phet? And he answers; H [...] bade [...] go [...] seeke my fath [...]rs Asses, a [...]d having found them to [...] a­gaine. After him struts up a most Thrasonicall Thraskite, and askes him; What saith th [...] Calydonia [...] Po [...]: And hee answers, That the [...] [...]f an Asse in the [...] of a Cella [...], t [...] an illiterate gull is a d [...]li­cate [...]. He loves sometimes [Page 169] [...]o take the ay [...], [...] strong b [...]th th [...] [...] [...]f­fords. Wh [...]re h [...]s [...] encounters with a [...] [...], w [...]ich sa [...]kes his [...]all, make [...] his [...] c [...]t [...] E [...]glish, his supporte [...]s [...] thei [...] pos [...]ures, [...]nd [...] da [...] ­gerously. By this time his [...] is heard, and [...]ow th [...]s val- [...] growne [...], [...]uld fig [...]t i [...] hee k [...]w how [...] his sally out a door [...] if he [...] [...] finde it. Ye [...] he will out [...] [...] [...]o rem [...]die, a [...]d stalke h [...]me­ward, [...]hough it be la [...]e [...] [...]he [...]. [...] in [...] [...]ay, [...] he u [...]happily [...]ll into [...] [...], hee tax [...]h [...]he [...] la [...] do [...]res so [...] a [...] [...] time a [...]ight. Y [...]t [...] if he can [...], [...] [...] [...] i [...] som [...] bl [...]de, [Page 170] Alley, hee terribly affrights the Passenger if hee meete any: For hee coasts here and there, as if it were Saint Anthonies fi [...]e, or some ignis fatu [...]s; whereas, his cresset­flaming nose is the sole incendiary of these Chymera's. Hee ha's a mightie desire to squabble with the Watch; but the inarticulate motion of his tongue makes those illiterate R [...]g-gownes thinke hee speakes Heathen Greeke. So as their compassion to a stranger, which they gather by his strange language, moves them to commi­serate his case; This gets him a Lanthorne and a conducter; but for his lodging, he is nere a whit the nearer, for he ha's quite for­got his plantation. Thus th [...]n like Hyppocrates twinnes walke these two coupled together, but secure from danger, for a watchmans Lanthorne is a Drunkards Super­sedeas. [Page 171] Gladly would this frozen Centinell returne to his charge, and leave his luggage: but hee clings to him like the barke to the tree; hee calls this goat-bearded Groome his Amaryllis, and hee will love her eternally. At last his A [...]aryllis (this officer I mean) perswades him for want of a bed to take a nappe on a bench till the morning: but he ha's so much wit as to scorne advice, preferring this walke in his Gallery (for so hee tearmes it) before the repose in his pall [...]t. It is a wonder with what extravagancies hee entertaines his conducter: who admires his l [...]ar­ning, if he were himselfe. By this, the blinde Lanthorne growes sur­foot, sleepie, and thirstie; along therefore with his zame (like a night-roving Lazarell [...]) hee ac­coasts a Taphouse boldly, thumps stoutly, and by vertue of his au­ [...] [Page 172] [...]ters couragiously. [...] a dozen quencheth the Of­ficious Salamanders thirst, [...]nd [...] [...]andring [...] t [...] [...]; [...]here hee is left [...]o t [...]e [...] c [...]re, or Drawers cure; P [...]r t [...]e charge it is his, if hi [...] coyn [...] [...] a [...]swere: howsoever, a good [...] never sham'd his master. [...] [...] word, hee i [...] in the Evening, what you shall not finde him in the Morning. Hee takes leave of th [...] Draw [...]r▪ with a solemn [...] salute [...] i [...] [...]e were dyi [...]g; and so he is, for h [...]e [...] and dropp [...]s downe d [...]ad at the [...]nd of a recko­ning.

22. A Xantippean

IS a Scold in English. The wheele o [...] her tongue goes with a per­petuall motion: yet she spits more than she speakes: and never spits but in spite. Shee is never lesse at ease, than when she is quiet; nor better pleased, than when the whole family is displeased. Shee makes every place where shee comes, an [...], and rayles it about at her owne proper charge. She is never at quiet but when she is at rest, nor at rest, but when she is sleeping, nor then nei­ther; for purposely she awakes the house with a terrible fit of sno­ring. A Burre about the Moone is not halfe so certaine a presage of a tempest, as her Brow is of a [Page 174] storme. L [...]urell, hauthorne, and Seale-skinne are held preserva­tives agai [...]st th [...]nder; but no [...] ­ceite can bee found so soveraigne as to still het clamour. She makes such a pattring with her lips, as if she were pos [...]st; and so shee [...], with the spirit of cont [...]ntion. She is wormewood in bed, and a Chafing­dish at boord. Shee cannot possi­bly take cold, for shee is ever in a heat. Shee holds no infirmit [...] worse then to be tongue- [...]de. She loves a good bit but hates a bridle. It is a wonder shee fell not fowle with the Priest, when shee was married. Many times since hath she cursed him, but hee feares no worfe. Methinks I see the cree­ping Snaile her husband, blesse him, as if there were Light ning, when hee comes in her presence. Shee ha's either quite forgot his name, or else shee likes it not, [Page 175] which makes her re-baptise him with names of her owne. Shee accoasts him with such fresh but furious encounters, as he sneakes away from her like a Tr [...]ant from his Master. Hee is never more homely used than at home: so as to comfort his cold stomach, and encourage him all the better a­gainst his next encounter, he hath challeng'd a pot of Ale to enter lists with him in a single combat. The challenge is entertained, the field pitched, the weapons provi­ded. Where, though the pot lose more blood, yet the Challenger gets the foile. Home hee would goe, if he could goe, but he must f [...]st learne to stand before hee goe▪ and so by holds till hee crawll home. M [...]netime, suppose him now [...] out his Indentures at le [...]gth▪ obse [...]ving his recoyles and r [...]treits, and spen [...]ing halfe [Page 178] the night and more in his short Iourney. Moone-light he needes not, for hee hath a nose in graine to guide him, which, were his eyes matches, would quickly fire him. But see the strength of ima­gination! While his crazie vessell is rowling homeward, a sudden panicke feare suggests to his phantasie ever working, the ap­parition of a spirit now approa­ching. Betwixt two wayes, per­plexed with two mindes, he stands amazed; feare bids him retire, and desire bids him go on. And so strange hath his resolution wrought with him, as he intends not onely to goe on his way, but to expostulate the case with this imaginarie Hoblin that bids him stay; and thus hee encounters it, having first blessed him, to make him more suc [...]ssive in the con­quest of it: If tho [...] beest a good [Page 179] spirit, thou wilt doe m [...]e no harme, such is my affiance; and if the Di­vell himselfe, thou hast [...]o reason to doe mee harme, for I married thy sister, and claime thy alliance. But this Spirit in a sheete, is presently transform'd into some sheepe, so as his feare (if he had so much ap­prehension left him) is to reflect more on his Spirit at home, than this in the way: for this was but seemingly visible, whereas that he goes to, will prove personally sensible. Hee findes her asleepe, but muttering words of revenge: which upon her awaking (and long may it bee first) shee makes shew of, by grinding he [...] teeth, b [...]ting her fist, and other out­ward tokens, fully to execute. All this while, hee sleepes soundly without rocking, till an unseaso­nable correction awake him. Now the Waspe is raised; the hor­n [...]t [Page 180] roused. Sure hee is to bee ca­perclawed; Cap a pe, he hath [...]o sence for it. He must beare it off with he [...]d and shoulders, and arme himselfe with patience, a­gainst all encounters. Every looke she darts is a lash to sco [...]rge him; Every Word she speaks is a wound to g [...]ll him.

—Non vox hominem sona [...], O Lea certe!

Happy were hee, if the World were rid of him, or hee of her. Gladly would hee reclaime her without shame, or disclaime in her his share: But as shee hates ever to admit of the former, so he despaires of the happi [...]es to par­take of the later. Sūdry distract [...]d thoughts doe perplexe him; some­times hee thinkes verily, that this ill-agremēt betwixt them, proceds [Page 181] either from some ceremonie in his marriage negle [...]ted▪ or some cir­cum [...]e or other om [...]tted, or that the ba [...]es of [...] were not dewly published, or sure in some point or other they were not rightly married. So as, gladly would hee (if the orders of the Church would permit it) bee remarried, to trie for once a con­clusion, if hee cou [...]d preuent his former disquiet, by an old ma [...]ri­age new solemnized: but his Pa­stor smell [...] his drift, and will by no meanes condescend to so irregu­lar a motion: fearing (by all like­lyhood) th [...]t when hee commes to the giving of this woman to this man, he will not take her but leave her in his owne hand. But his in­differencie little troubles her: her onely feare is, that shee cannot picke quarrels enough to baste him: which afflicts her above [Page 182] comparison. If a [...]y one reprove her for it, shee twitts them with ignorance, replying, she knowes better than they what is good for him; and she seconds her asserti­on with naturall reading. ‘If cud­gelling be usefull to the Walnut tree, to make it fruitfull, a little correction seasoned with discre­tion, cannot do amisse to make her husband more dutifull.’ This causeth him to resolve some times of more violent conclusions: for hee thinkes with himselfe, how desperate sores must have despe­rate cures. He vowes therefore, to bring her in all disgrace to the Cucking-stoole; and shee vowes againe, to bring him with all con­tempt to the stoole of repentance. Thus, tread he never so softly, this [...] will turne againe. There is no humour (so strangely is she humorous) can affect her; no [Page 183] conceit, how pregnant or present soever, delight her; no company, how affable or sociable soever, content her. Shee is apt to inter­pret what shee heares, evermore to the worst sense. More captious than capable of offence. Impa­tient of any ones prayse. Atten­tive to the report of their disgrace. Onely [...]trong in will, which shee counterpoizeth with want of worth. All her neighbours blesse them from her: wishing this quo­tidian fever of her tongue cur'd with a raz [...]r. She hath liv'd to a faire houre; for wheresoe're she comes, shee may have the roome her selfe. She needes neither con­tend nor contest for priority of place, nor precedencie at table, nor opinion in argument; her selfe serves for a whole messe, for her Gossips have left her. Well for all this, there is a meagre, rawbon'd [Page 184] shrimpe, that dare and will accoast her. He is not one of many words, though she be. But his will is his law; which none can oppose, much lesse prevent, with price, prayer, power, or policie. Her unpeace­able tong [...] must now bee bound to good behaviour; a lasting si­lence must charme it. This her Neighbours heare, that shee is laid speechlesse, (which assures them she cannot live long:) to her therefore they repaire, to per­forme the last office of Christian charitie, and commend her (with all their hearts) to Earth, imply­ing how weary they were of her company. Her funerall solemnity is the first day of her husbands Iubile: for all the wrongs she did him on Earth, she ha's made him sufficient amends now by her death. Howbeit, hee, on whom by generall suffrage of the Gods, [Page 185] the golden Tripode was first be­stowed, and to whom our Zan­tipp [...] was espoused, held that cur­rish opinion of Timon fit to bee exploded; who wish'd all Wo­men suspended, blessing all such fruit, trees, as were so plentifully stored: to whose milder judge­ment I appeale; clozing with the Poet.

Curst bee the Tree which Ti­mon
[...] procul [...] [...] ­strts Ti­monia fi­cus ab h [...], [...] ramis sacta se­ [...]cta [...].
blest,
Curst be his hatefull vowes,
Women were made in Bowers to hugge.
And not to hang on Bow [...]s.

23. A Yealous Neighbour

IS an E [...]ve-dropper. He would make an excellent Ratcatcher, for hee is creeping and sneaking in every corner. Though hee have no argument whereon to ground his credulous suspicion, his imagi­nation suggests to▪ him variety of matter, which serves for fewell to feele his distemper. The signe with him is ever in Aries, as hee is strongly conceited. The next yeare hee will bee a high-flyer, for hee is this yeare a Brancher. Hee dare not for an empire goe a hun­ting, lest his dogges take him for Acteon, and so worry him. His blood is foulely infected, which a [...]yes him desperately with the yellowes. The Bird Galgulus hath [Page 187] first ey'd him, which makes him labour of an incurable Iaun­dise. Hee would pawne his estate for those two rings of Giges and Hans Carvile, but the latter hee holds fitter for his purpose, though the former might make him an in­visible Cuckold. Hee lookes with a meagre complexion, which dis­covers his inward infection. Hee feeles not a pimpl [...] in his forehead, which publisheth not his fat [...]. Sometimes hee will expostulate his wrongs himselfe, and say; Well; what remedy? I am neither the first nor last; Patie [...] shall be my plaister. M [...]ane time, hee is as pa­tient as a Waspe or an Hornet. Hee will scarce credit his owne eyes, when he sees nothing but actions of modesty: all which he imagins m [...]re deceptions of sight; purpose­ly to gull his ignora [...]ce, and guild s [...] with a Saintly holinesse. He [Page 188] heares all that neighbour neare him, or resort unto him, say, They never saw Children liker their fa­ther; and [...] (replies he) no [...] one of them al is like an other. He is a little Puritanically affected, the private conventicles hee affects not. Hee feedes his humour more with sh [...] ­dowes than substance. Travaile hee would to the next market towne, in hope of profit; but hee turnes backe before hee come halfe way there, to take her napping to his owne discredit. Hee is sometimes resolved to proclaime his shame, but hee feares by that meanes, hee shall increase his shame, and adde to the number of her acquain­tance. How like a sillie man hee lookes in the presence of his wife and a proper attendant? Wha [...] a dejected eye hee casts upon him­selfe, and how [...]lous he is of this strangers Count'nance? He feeles, [Page 189] whether his eares go not through his Night-cappe; and if his fore­head beginne not to burgen. Hee bids his Apprentice looke to his foreman, and acquaint him with what hee heares or sees. Hee calls the Shoomaker impudent knave, for pulling on his wives shooe; and offering to beate him, wisheth it were his Last: and that, as hee is ever working his owne ends, he may have a speedy end. Hee ex­claimes grievously against her Bo­dy-maker, and inverting his name, calles him directly Baud-maker: he vowes to strip his Corporation starke naked, and lash him with Whalebone. Hee buyes his wives gownes ready made, fearing (be­like) some false measure from the Tayler. In her presence he fetch­eth a deepe sigh, semi-brev'd in these words: Well; shee might bee honest, if shee had so much grace; [Page 190] I have been held a proper man in my time. You shall find him by whole houres together eave-drop­ping under his Lettice, or peeping through a Key-hole, purposely to take her napping. Never man tooke more paines to adde fresh fuell to his affliction. Hee could wish with all his hart, that it were enacted by the whole house of Parliament for fornication to bee F [...]lony. He hath solemnely vow'd, never to take journey when either the Signe is in Ari [...]s, [...], or Capric [...]. When the Lion ba­nished all hor [...]-beasts his Court, it was impossible for me (saith he) to turne Co [...]rtier. Hee had some smattering in the Elements of all Learning, but hee ha's forgot all, and now like a Tr [...] must turne back to his Horne-book [...]. Thus he trifles out his time in the discovery of his owne sh [...]me. He hunts all [Page 191] the day long from chamber to chamber: and lest Locks or boults might become a Supersedeas to shield her dishonor, he resolves to keep open- [...]ouse to give more ayre to his Larder, though he suffer pil­lage for his labour. He hath la [...] ­ly created a new Officer, who e­very evening cryes, H [...]ng out your La [...]thorne and Candlelight maids; The Night is darke, and the entrie long; timely preventions is the life of policy. With his wife slee­ping and waking he keepes diapa­son; he wakes till shee sleepe, lest she should give him the slip. His sleepes are shor [...] and troubled: and when hee awakes, the first thing hee does, is seeking whether shee bee there or no. Hee lookes sometimes as if hee were affrigh­ted; but it is his owne [...] that haunts him: yet were his wife all [...]pirit and no substance, he should [Page 192] be lesse affrighted. Hee dare not for a world looke himsel [...]e [...] ▪th glasse, lest he should eye his owne [...]. He holds that a wife may [...]e her husband o [...]e of the strangest [...] in Europe. He [...] he could sustaine nature without sle [...]p, that he might take full [...]r view of his wives night­wo [...]ks. Hee is [...]ever lesse drunke with this distemper, th [...]n when he is distempered with liquor: and then hee gives best opportunitie, but sees it not. He hath but lately stept into an office, and that one of the lowest in all his Ward, yet hee verily thinks that the whole Ward holds him for one of the headmen of their Parish. Store of Bisket, W [...]fers and C [...]eawayes hee be­stowes at his Childs Christning, yet are his cares nothing lessned; he is perswaded, that he may eate his part of this Babe, and never [Page 193] breake his fast. H [...]e presents him­selfe for a Gentleman-Ush [...]r to his wife, when her humour is for ta­king the ayre: before whom he walkes most pedantically stoic [...]ll, yet with a r [...]cting eye, lest some fiend should steale away his Proserpina. In a word, his yealous minde, and his two suspicious eyes are the Hesperid [...]s, his Wife the golden grove; whose fruit is so mel­low, as he feares it will fall before the time. It is in vaine to apply any receites to cure his malady; no Vnicornes horne can poss [...]bly helpe this poisouous infection. Suspition once grounded, and by continu­ance hardned, can scarcely by force of any argument bee remo­ved. For all this, howsoever it fare with him touching his r [...]ll estate, it thrives well with him in his p [...]onall; for hee ha's store o [...] Cornucopia. He is by this time as [Page 194] weary of the world, as his wife is of him. He would gladly leave it, but there is something hee so do­tingly loves in it, as he cannot find in his heart to forgoe it, unlesse along with him he might carry it. He knowes how to dispose of his goods, but not of all his moveables. He doubts another must possesse, what hee enjoyed with so much care: and jeere at his follies, whilest his Successour supplies his place. Hee would articulate with his wife, if hee had so much hope in her constancy; or opinion of his owne deserts, to expect from her so much loyalty; clozing his short­liv'd words with these passionate interbreaths; Nay surely, I shall bee s [...]one forgotten. Her protests cannot remove from him this con­ceite; it were to no purpose ther­fore for her to promise what hee neither will beleeve, nor shee in­tends [Page 195] to performe. His eyes now begin to shroud themselves in their lodges. He hath by this dis­posed of all things that are in his power, even to that vessell of frail­tie, his earth-reverting body, which (according to his mind) is to be buried in some Cell, Roach, or Vault, and in no open place, lest Passengers (belike) might stu [...]ble on his grave. Meate for his funerall pye is shred, some few ceremoniall teares on his fu­nerall pile are shed; but the wormes are scarce entred his shroud, his corpse-flowers not fully dead, till this Yealous Earth­worme is forgot, and another more [...], but lesse yealous, moun­ted his bed.

24. A Zealous Brother

IS a sure stake t [...] his Sist [...]r; Hee sets forth in an Amsterdam print his faith and workes in two severall tomes, and in two different volumes; the fi [...]st in folio, the lat­ter in Decimo Sexto. Hee is an Antip [...]s to all Church govern­ment; When shee feasts hee fasts; when shee fasts▪ hee feasts; Good­Fryday is his Shrove-Tuesday; Hee commends this notable car­nall caveat to his family; Eate flesh upon day [...]s [...], it is good against Popery: He buyes a Blank-Almanack, to set downe his conventi [...]le houres. Breach of promise with the [...], hee holds an indifferent err [...]r, but with his Sister it is piacular. T [...]ere is [Page 197] nothing so farre out of tun [...] in his [...]are as Church-musicke. He keeps a [...] quarter in his sinnefull Syn [...]dalls, and denounceth an hea­uie woe upon all Wakes, Summe­rings, and Rush-bearings: prefer­ri [...]g that Act, whereby Pipers were mad [...] [...] by Act of Par­liament, before any in all the Acts and Monuments. His Band is a Diminitive, but his chol [...]r a Su­ [...]erlative, if hee bee provok' [...] ▪ Hee is so [...] with i [...]spiration, as he holds it a disti [...]sting of the Spirit to use pr [...]meditation. No spirit can affright him so much in any shape, as in the habit of a Sirpe­cloath. Hee ever takes the Crosse on his left hand, to avoid super­stition. Hee ha's bountifull Bene­factours, from whom hee receives weekely presents; and they know his mind: ‘Halfe Sacrifices are abhominable;’ This faithfull Fami­ly [Page 198] is his Monopoly; hee ha's in­gross'd them to himselfe; hee feedes on them, while hee feedes them. His frequent preaching leaves him no time to pray in; He can stand better than he cā [...]. Hee loves mix [...] societies, and hee takes this from the Arke, where there was a Male and Female of every kind. Hee avoucheth, that learned Lilie most orthodoxally proved the undoubted necessity of matrimony in the presbytery, in his declination of hic & h [...]c sa­cerd [...]s. Hee holds his Mother tongue to be the Originall tongue; and in that only he is constant, for he hath none to change it withall. Hee wonders how Babel should have such a confused variety of tongues, and hee understand but one. He never reades any Author, lest hee should bee held for an Apocryphall P [...]stor. One would [Page 199] take him for an incessant Student by his pale visage and enfeebled body; but the bent of his studies intends more the practick than Theorick. Hee is seldome or never constant to those Tenets he holds: which proving for most part scarce Orthodoxall, doe usually convent him: which makes him grow in great request with the purely-ig­norant. Hee holds all Bonds bea­ring date at Lammasse, Michael­masse, Candlemasse, or any Masse whatsoever, to be frustrate and of no effect; but by changing masse into tide, they become of full force and vertue. Mattins and U [...]spers hee holds two dangerous words; hee loves not to heare of the [...]. He maintaines equality in Presbytery; but if the necessity of time be such, as a Superintendent bee requisite, his zealous followers hold none si [...] ­ter to supply that place than hi [...] ­selfe. [Page 200] For the decision of al doubts, difficulties, and differences hee makes a private family his reve­stry. Whatsoever tends to the do­ctrine of mortification, hee holds for Romish: abstinence therefore he avoucheth to be an error new­ly crept into the Church; but if you put this Inter gatorie to him, in what time it crept, this weakly­read Depone [...]t knoweth not. No season through all the yeere ac­counts hee more subject to abho­mination than Bartholomew faire: Their Drums, Hobbihorses, Rat­tles, Babies, Ie [...]trumps, nay Pigs [...]nd all are wholly I [...]daicall. The very Booths are Brothells of ini­quity, and distinguished by the stampe of the Beast. Yet under fa­vour, hee will authorize his Sister to eate of that uncleane and irru­minating bea [...]t, a Pig, provided, that this Pig bee fat, and that him­selfe [Page 201] or some other zealous Bro­ [...]her accompanie her: and all this is held for authentick and canoni­call. Though hee seeme all spirit, yet during his beeing in this Ta­bernacle of clay, he holds it fitting to have a little relish of the flesh. He preferres the union of bodies before the union of minds; and he holds no unity worse than church­conformity. Hee conceives more inveterate hate towards the Church of Rome, than the temple of Mecha: and could finde with all his heart rather to embrace the traditions of the latter, than sub­mit to the discipline of the former. His devotion consists rather in ele­vation of the eye, than bending of the knee. In his extemporall Se [...] ­mons hee is a sonne of thunder, denouncing terror, but seldome hope of favour to the [...]jected si [...] ­ner. This desperate [...] hee [Page 202] continues, and holds them till night, and then leaves them Chil­dren of darkenesse. Hee thumps a pulpit pittifully, as if hee were an­gry; but if hee be, it is with those onely that come short in their ob­lations. He baptizeth his Children with Scripture-names; wherein onely hee shewes the depth of his reading. Yet in these hee mistakes miserably, for want of E [...]ymology; taking AMAN for AMON, DIANA for DINA. He holds one probable Tenet constantly; ‘That there are no walking Spi­rits on earth;’ and yet he finds a terrible one at home: which all his Divinity cannot conjure. This hath made him sometimes, to have a months mind to go for Virginia, to save soules: till hee right wise­ly considered, how the enterprise was full of perill, and that hee wanted materialls to defray the [Page 203] charge of his Travell. Of all Sects of Philosophers, he cannot endure to heare of the Academicks; for he never came amongst them. Of all metals, hee hates Latin: for hee hath heard how it was sometimes the Roman tongue; and that can­not chuse but be Schismaticall. He feares no shot so much as that of the Canon; for it injoynes him to that which he most hates, Con­formity. Hee would beyond Sea, but his Duck will not swimme o­ver with him: which makes him peremptorily conclude; Shee is better fed than ta [...]ght. Hee was once in election to have beene a Vice-verger in Amsterdam, but he wanted an audible voice. Howso­ever, hee is holden a great Rabbi amongst his Brethren, whose weakenesse hee strengthens with perillous paradoxes: which when hee comes to explaine, hee as lit­tl [...] [Page 204] understands as his amazed hea­rers. He was pleased sometime to make so bold with affaires of State, Church-government, with otherlike Subjects farre above his verge, as a late asthma ha's taken him, and restrain'd him to a perpe­tuall silence. This makes his illite­rate brutes to double their pensi­ons for his maintenance; and to idolize him the more, because ta­ken notice of by the State. And now hee is altogether for his pri­vat Lectures; where he vents such unauthenticke stuffe, as it proves pregnantly from what spirit it comes. Hee now takes time to intend controversies, which he se­cretly commenceth amongst his owne Familists, against the Com­munion Book and Book of common Prayer. Anthems and Versicles he holds papisticall; sundry other [...]xceptions hee finds no lesse cri­minall. [Page 205] But these quarrels become Conv [...]ntuall, and he must answer them. In the end, the contempti­blenesse of his person, with the weakenesse of his fortunes, rid him out a bryers: while now, af­ter so many alterations in matters of religion, he purposeth to have some little bartring with the world, be [...]ore he goe out of it, lest his poore progeny curse him that ever he came in it. But truth is, he shewes the necessity of his [...] in nothing so much as in w [...]nt, which onely makes him out of love with the world, and gives him the true marke of a Schol [...]r. Some he hath to provide for, if hee knew how: but hee must leave them, being abj [...]cts through po­verty, objects of charity; yet ha's he no great reason to expect that his broode should partake of those good workes now after his [Page 206] death, which hee could never en­dure to heare so much as com­mended all his life. By this our C [...]rnelius is become Tacitus, since hee dropt into his bathing-tubbe, where hee left his haire, and lost his honour: since which time, he is quite falne off from his zeal [...]us Br [...]threns favour: for the dampe of his life hath so darkened the light of his doctrine, as now for want of audience, hee may save himselfe a labour. Thus reft of friends, fortune, health and li­bertie, hee clozeth his Evening Lecture with a senselesse Lethar­gie. There is nothing now that troubles him so much in his sick­nesse, as that the Bells shall ring for him after his death. Which to prevent, hee hath ta­ken course with his Executour to give the Sexto [...] nothing; pur­posely to put the Bel [...]rey to [...]i­lence▪ [Page 207] Some [...] hee hath of his owne, who howle not so much that hee s [...]ould leave them, as that nothing is left them.

&c

IS the most notorious Knave1. Alma­nack-maker. pickt out of all these: As 1. if under colour of Astrology, he pra­ctise the Art of Necr [...]ncy.

2. If Nick Ballader contract2. Ballad-monger. with Bully Purser, to get him a base booty from a Ninny new­ [...]om'd forth a Countrey.

3. If he abuse forraine States,3. Corran­to-coiner. and gull the Reader to cram his belly.

4. If he sharke where hee hath4. Decoy. [...]ngag'd his heart, and prove dis­loyall to his fraternity.

5. If hee vent base ware with5. Ex­change-man. oaths, and improve his Exchange by perjury.

6. If he ra [...]nge without his6. Forre­ster. Pale, and make the country fo [...]ter­mother [Page 209] to his progeny.

7. If he professe himselfe ho­nest,7. Game­ster. and publish himselfe Cheate upon discovery.

8. If o [...]r H [...]spitall-man pre­tend8. Hospi­tall-man. but zeale, and prize piety as the Miser hospitalitie.

9. If our I [...]yler tyrannize over9 Iayler. his Ten [...]nt▪ and triumph in his mi­serie.

10. If the Keeper neglect his10. Keeper soule, and prepare not for her deli­verie.

11. If she wash her skinne, but11. Laun­derer. [...] her s [...]ule, and so soile her in­ward beauty.

12. If he set too high a stamp12. Metal­man. upon his meta [...], and blanch his alleageance with colour of Al­ [...].

13. If our [...] halt be­twixt13. Neuter. two, and slight his consci­ence for worldly policy.

14. If to save his provender, he14. Ostler. [Page 210] set a [...] artificial edge on a strangers Palfrey.

15. If hee furnish his Poster 15. Post­master. with a foundred Hackney.

16. If what hee collects in the16. Quest-man. Ward, he convert to himselfe and his Meniey.

17. If hee out-brave his best17. Ruffian. friends, and slave himselfe to any villany.

18. If he row without feare to18. Sailer. gaine h [...]m a f [...]re, and hazard a passengers safety.

19. If hee travaile to novellize19. Tra­veller. himselfe, and not to benefit his Country.

20. If to enrich his retchlesse20. Vn­der­sheriffe. progeny, he care not much to beg­ger the whole County.

21. If hee drinke till he rore,21. Wine-soaker. and roring uncivilly wrong him­selfe [...]nd his company.

22. If hee scold till shee scare22. Xan­tippean. her husband, make him debauch [Page 211] himselfe, and abandon his family.

23. If hee proclaime himselfe a23. Yea­lous Neigh­bour. Monster causelesly, and brand his posterity with the odious marke of bastardy.

24. If his hollow heart display24. Zea­lous Bro­ther. him for a counterfeit, and his pain­ted zeale taxe him of hypocricy.

If so or so, know, that such an one is an A perse A for knavery; whose Comick beginning shall cloze his dying Act with a Tra­gick Catastrophe.

So good night to all the foure and twenty.

FINIS.
A CATERCHARACTER, th …

A CATER­CHARACTER, throwne out of a Boxe By an Experienc'd Gamester.

—Ova prognatus ab uno.

  • 1. An Apparator.
  • 2. A Painter.
  • 3. A Pedler.
  • 4. A Piper.

LONDON, Imprinted by F. K. and are to be sold by R. B.

1631.

DEDICATED AND DEVOTED BY CLITVS—ALEX­ANDRINVS, TO HIS NO LESSE HONOVRED THEN ENDEARED, Sr. ALEXANDER RADCLIFFE, KNIGHT OF THE BATH.

A CATER-CHARACTER, THROWNE OVT OF A BOXE By AN EXPERIENC'D Gamester.

An Apparator

IS the usher of a Gho [...]t in a white sh [...]ete. He tels you of that, which hee himselfe seldome or never rememberstill, his end, Summons. He can most pragma­tically discourse of the Subject of p [...]nnance, but findes no time to [Page 2] apply the use u [...]to himselfe. Ho­nesty were a maine prejudice to his practise: which makes him hold that acquaintance of most weight, whose conversation is most light. Circumspect you must be in your words, howsoever you expresse your selfe in your works: for his eare lyes ever open for advantage: which hee will ad­vance in a publike Court, with a frontlesse impudence. His consci­ence is a Delphian sword, and will cut both wayes: yet annoint him; and you berust him, and conse­quently charme him for being so glad in the sheath. Hee can tell you of a way how to do [...] you good, and it is in his hand, so hee be capable of your gold. He ha's a plaister in store for a debauch't credit; and can mince a pennance with his familiar acquaintance. Protests he ha's, and store of them; [Page 3] he will bee your friend, and your fee shall binde him. He can winke as well as see, and distinguish of your guilt by your guild. This makes him ever goe partiall-guilt, holding it an inseparable appen­dice to his place, to ayme at his owne particular, and by it pro­cure the peccants peace: His ordi­nary Dialect is the thundring out of Canons to the vulgar, whose honest simplicity begets in them wonder: which thawes and re­solves it selfe into admiration, to observe the fearefull depth of the man. Yet so wise hee is, as one truly conscious of his owne igno­rance, hee can cri [...]ge low to a knowing presence, and rellish a submissive reproofe for his conni­vence. He carries still his Ephe­m [...]rides ab [...]ut with him, which he dayly enlargeth with Scandals a [...]d defamations. The best report [Page 4] that comes to his eare, is the ill report of his Neighbour: which he seemes sorry for; mea [...]e time out of his feigned sorrow, he re­ally discovers his neighbours shame. Hee usually takes more strict notice of Christenings than burials, and is better vers'd in their filiations, than if he were Overseer for the Parish. Hee might bee Truth by his true search, for hee lyes lurking in ev [...]ry corner. It were his breaking for the age to bee vertuous; his vailes are the vices of the time; which he vowes to ferres, and so turnes Conycatch­er. A pestilent head-peece hee ha's to blow up Suburbane Tra­ders: with whom hee trucks, if they feare to bee fruitfull: for others, their sterility hath procu­red them free licence. Hee is the very scourge of the time, and were the time better he would scourge [Page 5] himselfe. Revenues are good mens vertues; but his stocke h [...] ▪s no such dependance: light weights are his subsistence. An ignorant Curat is his patient; whose pur­pose is the subject of his phlebo­tomie. Bleede hee must, or hee dyes. The neglect of his cure, is the object of his care; yet cannot this poore Curat doe him a grea­ter injury, than labour reforma­tion of this malady. Hee domi­neers bravely in his place, as if it were his Chappell of ease: meane time, he is as timerous as the [...]are, lest his clandestnie contracts breede him harme. In a word, he is the safest, that knowes him laest; but if knowing, he is securest that knowes him best. Braves can­not affront, where knowledge hath already arm'd. Let him ap­peare then, in [...]hat portriature or posture he will, he cannot dismay [Page 6] where knowing resolution is fore­warn'd of his strength. His Rea­ding is his practise; Nor of all o­thers, needes hee any Choake; for want of ready pay is the genera­tion of his Subpena. It were great pitty he should want friends, hee is so obsequiously observant unto his owners: yet those that are knowne to him most, are affecti­onately beholden to him least. He complaines of the iniquitie of the age; but were it better, hee were worse. He ha's a Catalogue of abuses, which hee makes his morning, meridian, and evening orisons. If he can be so happy as to adde to their score, it inhanceth his state: which procures his sel­dom- [...] Heire an Appara­tors [...], when he is gone. Long time ha's hee beene an instrument of discovery touching abuses of the Church: yet none i [...]formes [Page 7] of him, whose President is the worst: Hee ha's so choakt his ac­cusers with shreads and parcels of broakt Civilian latine, as they are gravell'd, and hee in the opinion of the illiterate, graced. By this, hee ha's perform'd his place with generall approbatio [...]: and now hee is to bee Apparator for him­selfe. This hee so much the more feares, as he was the more unpro­vided for it before it came. It were well for him, that he might finde a proxi, to discharge his place: but his conscience summons him to a personall apparance. Bequeath his goods he may, which his Execu­tors enjoy; but the occasion of their joy, is his griefe. L [...]ve l [...]n­ger he would, but the world saies he ha' [...] liv'd too long. [...]rience hath ta [...]ght him so much, as the ripe [...]esse of his si [...]e hath raised him to that height, as hee can [Page 8] mount no higher. He must of ne­cessity then leave his place to a Novice to succeede him: while he, poore man, becomes Appa­rator for himselfe. His summons are given, his shrowde, the remain­der of his conniving f [...]es, prepared; his Sexton stayes at the hole­mouth, and will not bouge a foote, till this old Fox be ea [...]thed.

A Painter

IS a face-maker; and the worst in all his shop is his owne. He can never hold his hand from the Table, which proves him a true Englishman; for he cannot leave it when it is well. By a speciall priviledge granted to his Art, hee [...]xerciseth Martiall Law, and hangs and drawes within himselfe: [Page 9] wherein hee observes a legall and lineall method in his forme of ex [...] ­cution: he drawes first, and hangs afterwards. Sometimes hee will play the egregious flatterer, and bestow more gracefull beauty on your face, than ever nature gave you, and so gull you. He lookes on you as if hee would looke through you, when h [...]e draw [...]s you: yet he shewes you a kinde of Barber-obeisance, being con­tent to stand▪ while you sit. He is a partiall Artist: he will portray a man of note for nothing; but b [...]ing obscure, a Cat of Mount sh [...]ll receive more curtesie from hi [...] Pencile, than a nobler Crea­ture. He is not intangled much in law; yet he [...] now and then to Westminster, where hee practi­seth upon grave [...], & makes faces, and this hee liv [...]s by. Hee will not abate you an hair [...], if he [Page 10] be exquisite; having none, he will supply the want of that excre­ment with a curious shadow, and so procure an artfull ornament. He observes small method in the ranking or disposing of his pain­ted creatures: A La [...]y and a Mon­key may stand cheeke by joule one with the other. Nothing so much angers him, as to have dirt thrown on his picture; and yet the m [...]te­rials of it are of no better tem­per. Hee sometimes playes the witty Satyrist, and displayes light Tweakes in loose roabes; bu [...] draw them out with Po [...]kes on their h [...]ads, he will not, for that would darken his Art. Hee ha's an a [...]tifi­ciall veile for all his d [...]formities; and can make the ugliest Hagge [...]nlike her s [...]lfe, purpos [...]ly to make her like her s [...]lfe. His judgement consists not in Pul [...]e but Phy [...]no­my. There is nothing hee under­takes, [Page 11] but he ha's some colour for it. He ha's Pomatum and other rare confections to allay the inflama­tion of a cind [...]rous face; and yet a Saint Antoni [...]s fire constantly sparkles in his owne. When hee paints a shoulder of mutton, his teeth water, wishing with all his heart, he could infuse substance in­to the picture. Hee can Zeuxes­lik [...], though not like Ze [...]xes▪ paint Grapes, but the fowle that takes them for liv [...]ly, deserves [...] name. He can accommodate his portraiture with a true garb; Hob­s [...]n the Carrier must have his pi­cture, with his hand in his bag to designe his Condition. He make [...] the [...]ye of his feature, a light g [...]d­ding creature; for it reflects on e­very corner. He miserably abuseth the Nine Wor [...]hies, both in their postures, P [...]lfreys and [...]: but pres [...]ription pleades excuse [Page 12] beyond exception. The Nine Muses are much misused; The [...]ree Graces ungraciously han­dl [...]d. By all which it appeares, he assumes to himselfe a Po [...]ticall l [...]ence, alb [...]it hee never attained to the freedome of that Compa­ny. He holds a Paint [...]rs lib [...]rtie to b [...]e of equall authoritie to the highest profess [...]nt of Poetry; but his pencile must vaile to their P [...]n. Ignorance, which originally hat­ched this conceit, being retain'd to defend his cause, replyes▪ The Painter knowes not what the [...] meane. Fantas [...]s are his features, and their [...]ffigies the Em­brio of his braine. Whence it is, that [...]ll those ancient Heroes be­come his Proteans. Neither is hee onely familiar with these: for h [...]e will make no lesse bold in mis­sh [...]ping the Patriarchs, by reser­ving one beard in store for a whole [Page 13] Tribe. Hee receives upon trust some Chronicle stories, both Di­vine and Humane; which (p [...]e­supposing him to bee of eminent employment) hee makes use of in Pageants, Chimney-peeces and Bay-windowes. But if he bee of no frequent custome, he trudgeth with a trusse of colours on his back downe to the Countrey; where most humbly complaining, hee prostrates his Art and industry at the feet of a most vigil [...]nt Church­warden: By whose wisedome if he be entertained, that the Church may be beauti [...]ied, and his intole­rable Art discovered; he belards the walles with monstrous false English: for which, if at any time hee receive reproofe, hee returnes this answer; He could paint better, but th [...] Countrey will not bee at the charge of good English. And if you seriously aske him, where hee had [Page 14] those sentences, hee will with no lesse impudence than prophane­nesse tell you, they are foolish con­ceits of his owne. Now and then he is imployed at Funerals, which he performes most pi [...]ifully. His [...]noyl'd colours fall off like other mourners: his horse-gold displaies the integrity of the Artist. If hee be so ambitious, as to fixe his la­mentable Elegy on the Hearse, his leane lines fall so slat, and cloze in such unjoynted cadencies, as they ever redound to his shame. But in these, as they are a spheare too high for his imployment, he is r [...]rely vers'd. My Lord Maiors day is his Iubile, if any such infe­riou [...] Artist be admitted to so seri­ous a solemnity: If not, Countrey presentments are his preferment; or else hee bestowes his pencile on an aged peece of decayed Canvas in a sooty Alehouse, where M [...]ther [Page 15] Red cap must be set out in her co­lours. H [...]e hee and his barmy­Hostesse draw both together, but not in like nature; She in ale, h [...]e in [...]yle. But her commoditi [...] goes better downe, which he meanes to have his full share of, when his worke is done. If she aspire to the conceite of a signe, and desire to have her birch-pole pull'd downe, hee will supply her with one; which hee performes so poorely, as none that sees it but would take it for a Signe hee was drunke when he made it. A long consul­tation is had, before they can a­gree what Signe must be rear'd. A Meere-m [...]ide, sayes shee, for that will sing Catches to the Youths of the Parish. A Lyon, sayes he, for that's the onely Signe that he can make. And this he formes so art­lesly, as it requires his expression: This is [...] Lion. Which old E [...]le­nor [Page 16] Rumming, his Tap dame, de­ [...]ies, saying, It should have been a Meere-maid. Now and then hee turnes Rover, and bestowes the height of his Art on Archers stakes. Sundry Whimzi [...]s hee ha's in his head, but of all others there is none that puzzles him so much as this one: Hee ha's a speciall handsome Master-peece (for so he termes her) and is so jealous of her, a [...] when any one inquires for his picture, hee simply mistakes himselfe, and shewes them Act [...] ­on. Gl [...]dly would he cure this in­ [...]red malady with the secret re­ceipt of an It [...]lian s [...]curitie, could [...] A [...] contrive it, or his state pro­ [...]ure it. Well, so it is, that hee who tooke the d [...]aught of others, and liv'd by it, must now leave that Trade, for Death hath drawne him out to the full body. His chiefe Master-Artists imprese [Page 17] was this: No day without a line: but now the last line of his life is drawne. If hee dye well, it i [...] more than hee did all his life time. His memory seldome sur­vive [...] him: being now the Image of Death, as hee was before a li­ving picture.

A Pedler

IS a m [...]n of Ware. A wandring St [...]rre; O [...]e, whose chiefest [...]ommerce is with Country Wen­ [...]es. The materials of their truck­ [...]ng are of his part, Pinnes, Ribbons, a [...]d Laces; of theirs, Cony-skins, Lambe-skinnes, and Feathers; for Marrow-bones, their honest si [...] ­plicity never knew the operation o [...] them. What doe yee l [...]cke, is his ordinary Intergatory; yet you may lac [...] many things, ere he can supply you. Pepper doe ye want, [...]d he will p [...]pper it for you; He [...]ill sell you clots for Clov [...]s, cou [...]se crumm [...]s for Currans, Or­pine for Saffron, and [...]ompound your pepper with his Earth-pou­der, to gull you. It were a strange [Page 19] disease, that his fardell cannot cure; blessed bee his Genius! hee ha's a receit to cure any one from breaking, but himselfe: and this is the least hee do [...]bts, for his P [...] ­pouder Court is his onely te [...]ror. He is no [...]choler, yet turning Rope­maker, hee drawes stron [...] lines; which draines more from C [...]rde­ner than Philosopher. It is a prety thing to observe how hee carries his Trinkilo's about him: which m [...]kes the Countrey Choughs e­steeme him a man of prize. A Countrey Rush-bearing, or Mor­ri [...]e Pastorall, is his festivall: if e­ver hee aspire to plum▪ porridge, that i [...] the day. Here [...]he Gu­ga-g [...]les gi [...]gle it [...]ith his [...] nifles: while hee sculkes u [...]der a B [...]h, and showes his wit never till then, in admiring their follie [...]. H [...] ha's an obscene vei [...]e of Bal­latry, which m [...]kes the Wen [...]hes [Page 20] of the Greene laugh; and this pur­chaseth him, upon better acquain­tance, a posset or a Sillibub. Hee is ever removing his tents: and might bee complain'd of for non­residence, if his informer could gaine ought by' [...]. The Tinker of Turvie cannot put him downe at long-staffe: Which hee could finde in his heart to employ for high-way receits, if his white li­ver would give him leave. Would you have a true survey of his fa­mily, and number them by the pole? you shall fi [...]de them sub­sist of three heads: Himselfe, his Truck, and her Misset. Where the last weares, commonly, the slea­kest skinne. Hee might bee a good ma [...] by the Philosophers reason: for Every place is his country: and generally least trusted in his owne. His Atlantick [...] shoulder [...] are his supporters: if they faile, his reve­nues [Page 21] fall. His judgement consists principally in the choice of his ware, and place of their vent. Saint Martins Rings, and counterfeit Bracelets are commodities of i [...] ­finite consequence: these will passe for current at a May-pole, and purchase a favor from their May­Marian. One would take him for some appendice of a Souldier, by his Lether, but you shall find as much valour in his Hamper. There is nothing so much dis­heartens him as the report of a Pr [...]sse: this makes him stirre his stumpes: but if that will not serve, he turnes Counterfeit Crip­pl [...], and as one cut off by the stumps, he cants his maimes most me [...]hodically: and this practice hee most co [...]stantly retaines till the coast be cleare. Sometimes he co [...]sorts wi [...]h his Bungs: and these keepe Centinell neare his [Page 22] Booth, to take notice of a [...] prey; which purchase makes the sile [...]t Evening in some blind A [...] ­ley, or place of knowne [...], the divider of their prize. He [...] a certaine Catalogue of al [...] the principall Faires: where, though he have little to vend, he can find some way or other to bring i [...] a booty. He will not sticke to pre­tend, for want of better supply, an extraordinary skill in Physick: and so turnes most impudent dogmaticall Quacksalve [...]. What transnaturalized Elixers will this mercenarie Mountebanke pro­duce to delude the vulgar: All which hee findes experiments of usefull consequence, till the whip­stock waine him from his practice. It were wonderfull this generall Artist should not thrive, having so many irons i'ch fire. Yet he findes himselfe in nothing so constant as [Page 23] in matter of estate being for all his endeavour neither worse nor bet­ter, but just as hee was at first, a direct beggar. Now, should you a [...]ke him the reason: hee will tell you, one of his calling cannot bee honest and thrive too. If hee could have faced and outfac'd truth, set a deceitfull glosse on his adulte­rate w [...]res, or dispencd with oaths to beget Cu [...]tome, his Pack had beene a storehouse of rich commo­dities before this time: but ma­king conscience of his de [...]ling, was his maine undoing. Thus would hee make you credulously beleeve that he were seaz'd of what he ne­ver had, nor shuld he live longer, would ever have. Well, some­thing hee would gladly leave the young Hamperman, his hopefull heire, whom he fur [...]isheth, to ex­presse his love, for want of better fortunes, with the improved ex­ample [Page 24] of his life. He shewes him in a Landskip the whole Modell of his Pedler▪ p [...]grimage, with whom he may to his much bene­fit securely truck; and on whose sun [...]licity hee may most usefully worke. He tells him some myste­rious secrets, which he never durst till that houre discover, lest they should have prevented him of a naturall death. Now hee is to leave the world, and to his succes­sors grie [...]e, to leave nothing unto him in all the world. His fathers empty hamper is his sole patrimo­ny. Truth is he sh [...]wd great impro­vi [...]ence i [...] the course of hi [...] li [...]e, not to leave one poore knot o [...] blacke ribbo [...], to display his tr [...]de, and beget a few seeming mourner [...]. B [...]t his comfort is, he dies cn [...]ven boord. His Ex [...]cutor (if any such minister bee [...]) may thanke God for his wan [...] of Credit, for it [Page 25] kept him out of debt. Well; now hee is to trace no more the moun­taines nor vallies; this merry mate is now turn'd grave ma [...]. His fu­nerall Obits are soone solen: nized. Next day at the longest, his t [...]are­feigning widow cnters new com­merce; and hopes to aspire to a ioynture e [...]e shee dye. His sonne, as one retentive of his fathers me­mento' [...], t [...]aceth his pathes; lives in as honest name and fame as his Predecessor did: and that hee might resemble his father in for­tune as well as same, hee dyes nei­ther much indebted by reason of credit, nor leaves much owing him by those with whom he tra­ded. And so for altogether have they joyntly shut up their Ham­per.

A Piper

IS a very droane, ever soaking and sucking from others la­bours. In Wakes, and Rush-bea­rings he turnes flat rorer. Yet the Youths without him can keep no true measure. His head, pipe, and leg hold one consort. He cannot for his hanging fit himselfe to any tune, but his active foote or great toe will keepe time. Hee is never sober, but when hee is either slee­ping, or piping: for his repast par­takes too much of the pot, to keep him sober in his feeding. He is ge­nerally more carefull how to get a coate for his Pipe than his child. And a [...]ibband hung in his Cham­ber drawes him into an overwee­ning humour and hono [...]r of [...]o [Page 27] musicall a savour. Hee might bee not altogether improperly chara­ctred, An ill wind that begins to blow upon Christ masse eve, and so continues very lowd and blustring all the twelve dayes: Or an airy Me [...]eor composd of flat [...]ous ma [...] ­ter, that then appeares and vani­sheth to the great peace of the whole family, the thirt [...]enth day. His St [...]tors voice [...] it self to the expression of a largesse up­o [...] receit of the least benevolence. Hee deserves not his wench, that [...]ll not p [...]y for her dance. Hee is [...] dangerous instrument in the Common wealth; for drawing to­gether routs and riotous assem­blies: yet so long as they dance after his pipe, there can bee inten­ded no great perillous project of state. Since h [...] was enacted Rogue by Parliament, hee ha's got hold of a shamelesse tunelesse Shalme [Page 28] to bee his consort, that the statute might take lesse hold of his single quality. And to grace it the more, he ha's shrowde [...] himself with the inco [...]porate reverence of a pye-co­lour'd livery. Yet it is to be feared that the Snake must ere long, lose his slough; for either his vailes faile him, or he falls from his vailes. A continued practice of his proses­sion hath brought him to that per­fection, as hee can pipe when hee cannot speake: so as, his C [...]anter becomes his interpreter, and per­formes the thankfull office of a true Servant, in speaking for his mute Master, who cannot speake for himselfe. Hee is oftner out of tune than his pipe; yet never plaies better voluntari [...]s than when he is drunke. In one respect, he may be compared to a downe-right Saty­rist: he will not stick to play upon his best friends. He infinitely pre­ferres [Page 29] his art before all other me­cha [...]icks: yet all the meanes of his gettings is but from hand to mouth. The most dissorting Com­p [...]ion for his humor, is the Ti [...]r for hee is a metall man, which the Piper is not: Besides, they are so unsociably affected to their li­quor; as it is death to them to drinke to one another; yet the nooze of the law oft [...]imes recon­ciles them, when it injoynes them to hang both together. Hee is of an invincible strong breath, whereof hee leaves usually in the blast of his pipe such a vaporous and vicious steeme, as it would go neare to poyson any Creature but a Piper. Hee suites himselfe to the seasons of the yccre, wherein if his honest Neighbour partake of any be [...]efit, h [...]e expects his musicall share. And to winde him the more in his love, without which hee can­not [Page 30] live, every distinct time must bee accommodated to a severall tune. Hee ha'sa straine to inchant the sheepheard in his shearing; an other for the husbandman in his [...]eaping; in all which hee ha'sa peculiar priviledge for gleaning. Sundry corners hee reserves in his k [...]apsack for these neighbourly bounties, which in short time, by prescription, become customarie to him, and all his lineall succcs­sor [...] of the same Science, after him. I [...] his bonny Blouze, or dai [...]ty do­xie, being commonly a collapsed Tinkers wife, or some high way commodity, taken up upon trust, demand of him supply, after these numerous in-comes, hee bids her goe pipe. For his bed, hee leaves it the soonest, and goes to it the la­test. Hee is injoy [...]ed by his place, to rise early, rore highly, and [...]ouze the whole family. So as, [Page 31] his pipe may be properly tearmed the instrumentall cause both of [...] dr [...] ▪ ming their rising and his owne. He isDro [...]ne pl [...] the grand i [...] ­postor; hi [...] m [...]rry chante [...] [...] meer [...] inc ban [...]r▪ ca [...]sing peopl [...] to [...] in a r [...]ng, as if he bad r [...]sd the div [...] [...] a circl [...]. no constant dweller, and yet he is no shifter. All he reedes, he puts in­to his pipe: Which consisting of three notes, breaks out into a most vociferous Syllogisme. He will be heard at Ho [...]se-races; where it makes him infinitely proud, if the Horse will but vouchsafe to lay his nose to his droane. This so transports him, as it makes him think himself worthy to be recor­ded in those musicall aires or an­nals of Orpheu [...] and Arion, who made beasts follow them. Which hee doth dayly, for his Doxy dogs him. Being weary of the Country, or shee rather weary of him, hee dives into some Suburban or Cit­ty-cellar, where hee rores like the Divell in a vault. Heere hee deepely inhanceth his Cellar-rents, if hee [Page 32] had grace to keepe them: but truth is, whatsoever hee draines from the four corners of the Ci­ty, goes in muddy taplash downe Gutter-lane, and so sinks down in­to P [...]ier alley. So he get his mor­ning draught, which ends about midday, at the soonest, hee stands not much upon breakefast: Nei­ther indeede will his vailes finde supply both for thirst and hu [...]ger. This sauce- [...]eam'd Porcupi [...], when his veines b [...]gin to warme, will b [...]e many times monstrously mal [...]pert, which purchaseth him a beating with much patience. You may breake his head as good cheape, as any mans in Europe. If his Prugge aspire to so much stock or so great trust, as to brew to sell; hee will bee sure to drinke up all the gai [...]es. Hee will not sticke to runne on score with a score, so h [...] may have credit: but when they [Page 33] come for their coine, hee solicits some longer time, and payes them home with a tune: Tis merri [...] when malt-men meete. But th [...]y may pipe small e're they mee [...]e with their money. By this, his holy bush is pulled downe, which proclaimes him ba [...]kerupt: by which meanes, he may most po­litickly compound upon i [...]ffe­rent tearms with his Malt-worms▪ Thus are his fortunes no perpetu [...] ­tie: An ill winde bla [...]s them: be­ing commonly, ligh [...]ly got a­mongst nimble heel'd fooles, and lewdly spent amongst heavie hea­ded knaves. His vocatio [...] is no peculiar station, but a roving r [...] ­creation. There is no m [...]n will more sufficiently sit downe to eat, nor more cheerefully rise up to play than himselfe. To keepe him company, and free him of th [...]t, which his leaden conceit is sel­dome [Page 34] capable of, melancholy, he wisheth no other associate than a Iack [...]napes, or a Iolly [...]: wherein it is his highe [...]t straine of studie to accommo­date his Ape with a guarded Coate, and so foole his spectators out of their coine. He dies a sound man and merrily, for hee dyes a Piper, but no good death, for hee hath played away his time. Hee could finde in his heart to pipe longer, but his winde failes him, which makes him play his last­goodnight. His wealth may ap­peare by his [...] which containes the over worne remains of a Motley Livery, a decayed Pipe-bagge, and halfe a shirt; all wh [...]ch, without his Neighbours chari [...]y, will scarce amount to the purchase of a sheete.

FINIS.
CLITVS retire; Waste no more oyle on these,
No care can cure a desperate disease:
Should'st write as much of ev'ry bas [...] profession,
Europe would bee too strait for that Impression.
Meane time, these Swaine [...] may on the Plaines goe breath them,
For thou hast left a Curi­ous Piper with them.

CLITVS HIS GENETHLIANa [...] est xix. Feb A [...] D [...]. 1630. Vpon the Birth-day of his Sonne IOHN.

Vagi [...]ndo [...]allem intramu [...],
Suspirando relinquim [...]s.
With shreekes we live, and with a sigh we die;
Thus live we, die we, griefe is ever die.
GOd blesse thee IOHN and make thee such a [...] one,
That I may ioy in calling thee my Son.
Thou art my Ninth, and by it I divin [...]
That thou shalt live to love the
Musa [...], Natura nov [...]m pul [...] pr [...] ­lem
Muses nin [...],
And live by loving them: for it were fit
A younger Brother had an Elder wit.
Exhib [...]it, [...], [...].
Thou maist be Gamester, or what trade thou'ls choose,
For much I shall not leave my Boy to loose;
And that's fit'st for a Gamest [...]r: but bee sure
[...] addresse thy care upon thin [...] inwardcure.
"Be honest, and thou canst not want a friend,
"Neither before thine end, nor in thine end.
Three things THREE VOVCHERS for thee undertake,
The WORLD, FLESH, DIVEL, th [...]u must quite for sake;
And so I hope thou wilt: to th' WORLD I show thee,
But thy poor fortune's such, she will not know thee.
And for the FLESH, ev'n Nature must permit
That it be given t [...] thee, e're thou to it.
Now for the DIVEL, he ha's so much to doe
With roring boyes, hee'l sl [...]ght such Babes as tho [...]:
Yet be not too s [...]cure, but put him to' [...],
For hee'le play at small game, e're hee sit out.
Th' e [...]crease of thy Revenues is but small,
Looke [...]o thy Braines, poore IOHN, for that is all.
A better Legacie I have not for [...]ee,
Vnlesse thou dye, and I sing Di [...]ges o're thee:
By which I should collect, thou wer't bu [...] LENT me,
As thou wast neare that time by Nature sent mee:
B [...]ing onely sh [...]wne on Earth, but to abst [...]e
From [...]inne on Earth, and turne to earth again [...] ▪
And so shouldst [...]hou rise high, by vading hence
With a sweete smile, in state of innocence.
This is my cloze;
"Short be thou or long liver,
"Live well, my Boy,
"that thou maist live for ever.
FINIS.

An Alphabeticall Table of the Cha­racters.

  • AN Almanack-maker.
  • A Ballad-monger.
  • A Corranto-coiner.
  • A Decoy.
  • An Exchange-man.
  • A Forrester.
  • A Gamester.
  • An Hospitall-man.
  • A Iayler.
  • A Keeper.
  • A Launderer.
  • [Page]A Metall-man.
  • A Neuter.
  • An Ostler.
  • A Post-master.
  • A Quest-man.
  • A Ruffian.
  • A Sailer.
  • A Traveller.
  • An Vnder-sheriffe.
  • A Wine-soaker.
  • A Xantippean.
  • A Yealous Neighbour.
  • A Zealous Brother.

&c.

Or The Egregious'st Pimpe of a [...] this debauch't order, with a briefe but free cens [...]re, of [Page] their nature, nurture, and number:

Closing With the Supply of a Curious­Countrey-Cater-Cha­racter, to supple the rig [...]r of the roughest Censor.

Vpon the Errata's.

As there [...]ee Characters [...]f Errors, so be [...]rrors incident to Characters. These, be they literall or materiall, it is in th [...]e, Reader, to make them veniall.

In Epist. to Reader, lin. 25. for fo [...]r, [...]lias [...], Ilium [...]orum. reade firmer. p. 36. l. 11. f. shoope, r. shoppe. p. 53. l. [...]0. f. imitation, r. [...]itiation. p. 55. l [...]. f. &▪ r. at. p. 57. l▪ 6. f. as, r. an. p. 69▪ l. 11. f. fail'd, r. [...]aile. p. 77. l. 6▪ f. [...]unne, r. Summe. pag. 80. lin. 5. for Surely, read Surly. p. 174. lin. 18▪ for feares no worse, r. fares no [...]se. p. 188. l. 6. f. the, r. yet. p. 186. l 9 for feele, r feed. p. 205. l▪ 7. f. alterations, [...] ▪ al­tercations. p. [...]10. l 23. f. hee, r. s [...]ee.

Second Part.

Pag. 5 lin. 16. f. clandestnie, r. cl [...]nde­stine. In the Genethlia, l▪ 8. f. die, r. ni [...].

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