FANTASTICKS: Seruing for A PERPETVALL Prognostication. Descants of

  • 1 The VVorld.
  • 2 The Earth.
  • 3 VVater.
  • 4 Ayre.
  • 5 Fire.
  • 6 Fish.
  • 7 Beasts.
  • 8 Man.
  • 9 VVoman.
  • 10 Loue.
  • 11 Money.
  • 12 The Spring.
  • 13 Summer.
  • 14 Haruest.
  • 15 VVinter.
  • 16 The 12. Moneths
  • 17 Christmas.
  • 18 Lent.
  • 19 Good Friday.
  • 20 Easter day.
  • 21 Morning.
  • 22 The 12. Houres.
  • 23 Midnight.
  • 24 The Conclusion.

LONDON, Printed for Francis Williams. 1626.

To the VVorshipfull and worthy Knight, Sir MARKE IVE of Riuers Hall in Essex, N.B. wisheth on earth hearts ease, and heauen hereafter.

SIR, your many fauours, and my small deserts, make mee study how to discharge my selfe of ingratitude, which not knowing better how to doe, then by the labour of my spirit, to shew the nature of my loue, I haue thought good to present your patience with this little volume of varieties, in which, though the Title promise no matter of great worth, yet it may be, if you peruse it, you shall finde somewhat that you may like in it: how­soeuer it be, it may serue you in the Winter, to keepe you from sleep by the fire side, and in the Summer in shady walkes, to passe away idle time.

In briefe, wishing it of that nature, that might come neere the worthinesse of your acceptation, I leaue it with my better seruice, to the fauor of your good discretion: and so in all humilitie rest,

Yours affectionately to command, N. B.

To the Reader.

IT was my hap of late, wal­king thorow the fields, to light vpon a peece of paper, in which I found a kind of dis­course, set down vpon an ima­gination of midnight. By whom it was written, I know not, but by whomsoeuer, I liked it so well, that wishing my selfe able to doe halfe so well, I fell into an humor of imitating the veyne, so neer as I could, in de­scription of the twelue houres, the twelue moneths, and some speciall dayes in the yere: how wel to your liking, I know not; but my labour herein hath not bin little, & my desire much, I meane to doe well; which if I haue not, I can be but sory, that my dull wit hath not bin fed with a more pleasing humour: but if you be able to iudge of the worth of it, and like it, I shall be more glad then proud of it: howsoeuer it be, hoping of your kind­nes, I leaue it to your like censure; & so, loth to entertaine your patience with a long tale to little purpose, I thus conclude, and in af­fection and discretion, I rest,

Your friend, N. B.

[Page]FANTASTICKS. Descants of the Quarters, Mo­neths, and houres of the yeere, with other matters.

The World.

TOuching my opinion of the world, I will tell you as briefly as I can, what I thinke of it: a place wherein are contained the variety of things: Men thinke, women talk, beasts féed, birds flye, fishes swim, and wormes créep: ayre pearceth, windes blow, cold nip­peth, fire heateth, grasse groweth, and time withereth. Wealth is a Iewell, and pouerty is a plague: Conscience is a charge, and care is a burden. Pride is a Lord of mis­rule, and beauty is painted. Mars must yéeld to Mer­cury, and Diana is a strange woman: Cupid is an idle in­uention, and all is as good as nothing. Loue is more tal­ked of then proued. Couetousnesse the key of wit, Na­ture the trouble of Reason, and Will the master of the Senses. Beauty is an eye sore, Learning a taske, Ualour a heat, and reason a study. A King, a great man: a Soul­dier, a stout man: a Courtier, a fine man: a Lawyer, a wise man: a Merchant, a rich man: a Begger a poore man: and an honest man, an honest man.

[Page]Fayre weather, is chearfull: foule weather is melan­cholicke. The day is lightsome, and the night is darksom. Meate is necessary, and sléepe is easefull, and drinke doth well, and exercise doth not amisse. Law is good, and pu­nishment is méet, and reward would be thought on: and fooles would be pityed, and so. Opinions differ, and Iudgements vary, and Time trauailes, and Trueth is a vertue, and wisedome an honor: and honor is a title, and Grace a gift, and Patience a blessing, and Content a Kingdome: and so from one thing to another, a trouble in all. A kingdome full of care: wit full of trouble power full of charge: youth full of action: Age full of griefe: and none content with his condition: wishing in one, willing in another: thinking in one, doing in another: working in one, crossing in another: thoughts, words, and déeds, so different in their effects, that for ought I can sée in it, when I haue well considered of it, I can say thus much of it, He is happy that hath not to doe with it. And not to dwell too long vpon it, to conclude my opinion briefl [...] of it, I hold it the Labyrinth of wit, and the toyle of vnder­standing, the pilgrimage of patience, and the purgato­ry of reason. Farewell.

Loue.

TOuching my Iudgement of Loue, it is, if it bee any thing, such a thing to speake of, that to tell truly, I know not well what to say of it: but yet what I imagine of it, I will tell you: at the first, I ghesse, it was an old nothing, to exercise wit in idlenes, [Page] and now, is a kind of new-nothing to féed folly with ima­gination: but be it what it will be, or may be, this wanton Loue that this world is too full of, whatsoeuer it is, thus much I find of it: It is begotten by the eyes, bred in the braines, walkes in the tongue, growes with the flesh, and dyes in an humour: and this ill commonly doth trouble wit, hinder Arte hurt Nature, disgrace Reason lose time, and spoile substance: It crosseth wisedome, serueth Beau­tie, and sotteth Folly: weakneth strength, and baseth Ho­nour: It is only Willes darling, Patience triall, and Passions torture, the pleasure of melancholy, and the play of madnesse, the delight of varieties, and the deuiser of vanities: The Uirgins cracke, and the Widowes crosse: The Batchelors bane and the maried mans Pur­gatory: the Yong mans misery and the Ageds consump­tion: The abuse of Learning, the ground of Enuy, the stirrer of wrath, and the cause of mischiefe: The disquiet of the mind, the distractor of the Wit, the disturber of the Senses, and the destruction of the whole body. A fained god, an idle fancy, a kind of fury, and in some kind a fren­zy. To conclude, I hold it an Inuention of idlenesse, and an Imagination of Indiscretion: the plague of people, andt he mocke of the Word. Farewell.

Money.

TO tell you mine opinion of money, I thinke it the Monarch of the world: the maintainer of Pride, the Nurse of Couetousnesse, the Steward of Le­chery, the sower of Sedition, the cause of war, the sacke of a City, and the ouerthrow of a Campe: The [Page] Gluttons Purueyour, and the Drunkards Cupbearer: the Thiefes tempter, and the Hangmans Master: The misguider of Wit, the corrupter of Conscience, the blin­der of Reason, and the ouerthrow of Honour: the Usurers God, the poore mans oppression, the Lawyers hope, & the Laborers hire: doth good to few, but hurt to many: puls downe the Churches, and builds the faire houses, makes the Prodigall an Ape, and the miser dogged: makes Brid­ges ouer the Sea, and fire in mens braines: fetch [...]th the Beasts from the Wildernesse, and the Birds from the Ayre: it drawes fansies out of fine Wits, and eloquence from learned mouths: It makes friends foes, and ene­mies friends: It serues all professions, all qualities, and conditions, from the King to the Begger.

In summe, not to talke too much of it, hauing so little of it: I thus conclude my opinion of it: I thinke it a ne­cessary drosse, and a dangerous mettall, the reliefe of the honest, and the ruine of the wicked. Farewell.

The Spring.

IT is now Spring: a Time blest of the Heauens for the comfort of the Earth, now begins the Sunne to giue light vnto the Ayre, and with the replexion of his beames to warme the cold earth: the Beasts of the woods looke out into the plaines, and the fishes out of the déepe run vp into the shallow waters, the bréeding fowles fall to building of their nests, and the senselesse creatures gather life into their bodies, the Birds tune their throats to entertaine the Sunne rising, and the little flies begin [Page] to flocke in the ayre: now Cupid begins no nocke his Ar­rowes and sharpe their heads: and Venus, if she be, will be knowne what she is: Now Pallas and her Muses try the Poets in their Pamphlets, and Diana, if shee bee to bée séene, is a grace to her fayrest Nymph: Time is now gracious in Nature, & Nature in time: the Ayre whole­some, and the earth pleasant, and the sea not vncomfor­table: the Aged féele a kind of youth, & Youth, the Spirit ful of life: it is the messenger of many pleasures: the Cour­tiers progresse, and the Farmers profit: the Labourers Haruest, and the Beggers Pilgrimage. In summe, there is much good to be spoken of this time: but to auoyd tediousnes, I will thus conclude of it: I hold it in all that I can sée in it, the Iewell of time, and the Ioy of Nature.

Farewell.

Summer.

IT is now Summer, & Zephirus with his swéet breath cooles the parching beames of Titan the leaues of the trées are in whisper talkes of the blessings of the aire, while the Nightingale is tuning her throat to refresh the weary spirit of the Trauayler: Flora now brings out her Wardrop, and richly embroydreth her gréene Apron: the Nymphes of the Woodes in consort with the Muses sing an Aue to the Morning, and a Vale to the Sunnes setting: the Lambes and the Rabbettes run at base in the sandy Warrens, and the Plow landes are couered with corne: the stately Hart is at Layre in the high wood, while the Hare in a surrow sits washing of her [Page] face: The Bull makes his walke like a Master of the field, and the broad-headed Oxe beares the Garland of the market: the Angler with a sly takes his pleasure with the fish, while the little Merline hath the Partridge in the foot: the Hony-dewes perfume the Ayre, and the Sunny-showers are the earths comfort: the Greyhound on the plaine makes the faire course: & the wel-mouthed Hound makes the Musicke of the woods: the Battaile of the field is now stoutly fought, and the proud Rye must stoupe to the Sickle: The Carters whistle chéeres his forehorse, and drinke and sweat is the life of the Labou­rer: Idle spirits are banished the limits of Honour, while the studious braine brings forth his wonder: the Azure Sky shewes the Heauen is gracious, and the glo­rious Sunne glads the spirit of Nature: The ripened fruits shew the beauty of the earth, and the brightnesse of the aire the glory of the heauens: In summe, for the world of worth I find in it, I thus conclude of it: I hold it a most swéet season, the variety of pleasures, and the Paradise of loue. Farewell.

Haruest.

IT is now Haruest, and the Larke must lead her yong out of the nest: for the Sithe and the Sickle wil down with the grasse and the corne: Now are the hedges ful of Berries, & the highwayes full of Rogues, and the lazy Limmes must [...]éepe out their dinner: The Ant and the Bee worke for their winter prouision, and after a frost, the Grashopper is not séene: Butter, milke, and [Page] cheese, are the Labourers dyet, and a pot of good Béere quickens his spirit. If there be no plague, the people are healthy, for continuance of motion is a preseruation of nature: The fresh of the morning, and the coole of the Euening are the times of Court walkes; but the poore traueller treads out the whole day: Malt is now aboue wheat with a number of mad people, and a fine shirt is better then a Frize Ierkin: Peares and Plummes now ripen apace, and being of a watry substance, are cause of much sicknesse: The pipe and the taber now follow the Fayres, and they that haue any money, make a gaine of their markets. Bucks now are in season, and Partridges are Rowen-taild, & a good Retriuer is a Spaniell worth the keeping. In sum, it is a time of much worth, when, if God bee well pleased, the world will thriue the better. And to conclude, this is all that I will say of it; I hold it the Heauens Bounty, the Earths Beauty, and the Worlds Benefit, Farewell.

VVinter.

IT is now Winter, and Boreas beginnes to fill his chéekes with breath, shaketh the tops of the high Ce­dars, and hoyseth the waues of the Sea, to the dan­ger of the Saylers comfort: Now is the Earth nipt at the heart with a cold, and her Trées are disrobed of their rich apparell: there is a glasse set vpon the face of the Waters, and the Fishes are driuen to the bottomes of the déepe: The Usurer now sits lapt in his furres, and the poore makes his breath, a fire to his fingers ends: [Page] Beautie is maskt for feare of the ayre, and youth runnes to Physicke for Restoratiues of Nature: The Stagge roares for losse of his strength, and the Flea makes his Castle in the wooll of a blanket: Cards and Dice now begin their haruest, and good Ale and Sack are the cause of ciuill warres: Machiauil and the Deuill are in coun­sell vpon destruction, and the wicked of the world make hast to hell: Money is such a Monopoly, that hee is not to be spoken of, and the delay of suits is the death of hope. In it selfe it is a wofull Season, the punishment of Na­tures pride, and the play of misery. Farewell.

Ianuary.

IT is now Ianuary, and Time beginnes to turne the whéele of his Reuolution, the Woods begin to lose the beauty of their spreading boughes, and the proud Oke must stoop to the Axe: the Squirrell now surueyeth the Nut and the Maple, and the Hedgehogge rowles vp himselfe like a football: an Apple and a Nutmeg make a Gossips cup: and the Ale and the Fagot are the Uictu­allers merchandise: the Northerne black Dust is the du­ring Fuell▪ and the fruit of the Grape heats the stomake of the Aged: Downe beds and quilted Cappes are now in the pride of their seruice, and the Cooke and the Pant­ler are men of no meane office: the Oxe and the fat Wea­ther now furnish the market, and the Coney is so fer­reted, that she cannot keepe in her borough: the Currier & the Lime-rod are the death of the fowle, and the Faul­cons bels ring the death of the Mallard: the trotting [Page] gelding makes a way through the mire, and the Hare & the Hound put the Huntsman to his horne: the barren Doe subscribes to the dish, and the smallest séed makes sauce to the greatest flesh: the dryed grasse is the horses ordinary, and the meale of the beanes makes him goe through with his trauell: Fishermen now haue a cold trade, and trauellers a foule iourney: the Cook room now is not the worst place in the Ship, and the Shepheard hath a bleake seat on the Mountaine: the Blackbird lea­ueth not a berry on the thorne, and the garden earth is turned vp for her roots: the water floods runne ouer the proud bankes, and the gaping Dister leaues his shell in the streets, while the proud Peacocke leaps into the pye: Muscouia commodities are now much in request, and the water Spaniell is a necessary seruant: the Lode horse to the mill hath his full backe burthen; and the Thresher in the barne tryes the strength of his flayle: the Woodcocke and the Pheasant pay their liues for their féed, and the Hare after a course makes his hearse in a pye: the shoulder of a hog is a shooing horne to good drink, and a cold almes makes a begger shrug. To conclude, I hold it a time of little comfort, the rich mans charge, and the poore mans misery. Farewell.

February.

IT is now February, & the Sun is gotten vp a Cocke­stride of his climbing, the Ualleyes now are painted white, and the brookes are full of water: the Frog goes to séeke out the Paddocke, and the Crow and the [Page] Rooke begin to mislike their old Makes: forward Con­nies begin now to kindle, & the fat grounds are not with­out Lambes: the Gardiner fals to sorting of his seeds, and the Husbandman falls afresh to scowring of his Ploughshare: the Terme trauellers make the Shooe­makers Haruest, and the Chaundlers cheese makes the chalke walke apace: The Fishmonger sorts his ware against Lent: and a Lambe-skinne is good for a lame arme: the waters now alter the nature of their softnes, and the soft earth is made stony hard: The Ayre is sharp and piercing, and the winds blow cold: the Tauernes and the Innes seldome lack Guest [...], & the Ostler knows how to gaine by his Hay: the hunting Horse is at the héeles of the Hound, while the ambling Nagge carrieth the Physitian and his footcloth: the blood of Youth be­gins to spring, and the honour of Art is gotten by Exer­cise: The trees a little begin to bud, and the sap begins to rise vp out of the root: Physick now hath work among weake bodies, and the Apothecaries drugges are very gainfull: There is hope of a better time not farre off, for this in it selfe is little comfortable: and fo [...] the small pleasure that I find in it, I will thus briefly conclude of it: It is the poore mans pick-purse, and the misers cut­throat, the enemy to pleasure, and the time of patience. Farewell.

March.

IT is now March, and the Northerne wind dryeth vp the Southerne durt: The tender Lippes are now [Page] maskt for feare of chopping, and the faire hands must not be vngloued: now riseth the Sunne a pretty step to his faire height, and Saint Valentine calls the birds to­gether, where Nature is pleased in the varietie of loue: the Fishes and the Frogs fall to their manner of gene­ration, and the Adder dyes to bring forth her young: the Ayre is sharpe, but the Sunne is comfortable, and the day beginnes to lengthen: The forward Gardens giue the fiue Sallets, and a Nosegay of Uiolets is a present for a Lady: Now beginneth Nature (as it were) to wake out of her sleepe, and sends the Taueller to suruey the walkes of the World: the sucking Rabbit is good for weake stomackes, and the dyet for the Rhume doth ma­ny a great Cure: The Farrier now is the horses Phy­sitian, and the fat Dog feeds the Faulcon in the Mew: The Trée begins to bud, and the grasse to péepe abroad, while the Thrush with the Black-bird make a charme in the young Springs: the Milke-mayd with her best be­loued, talke away wearinesse to the Market, and in an honest meaning, kind words doe no hurt: the Foot-ball now tryeth the legges of strength, and merry matches continue good fellowship: It is a time of much worke, and tedious to discourse of: but in all I find of it, I thus conclude in it: I hold it the Seruant of Nature, and the Schoole-master of Art: the hope of labour, and the Subiect of Reason. Farewell.

Aprill.

IN is now April, and the Nightingale begins to tune her throat against May: the Sunny showers perfume the aire, and the Bées begin to goe abroad for honey: the Dewe, as in Pearles, han [...]s vpon the tops of the grasse, while the Turtles sit billing vpon the little gréene boughes: the Trowt begins to play in the Brookes, and the Sammon leaues the Sea, to play in the fresh waters. The Garden bankes are full of gay flowers, and the Thorne and the Plumme send forth their faire Blos­somes: the March Colt begins to play, and the Cosset Lamb is learned to butt. The Poets now make their studies in the woods, & the Youth of the Country make ready for the Morris-dance; the little Fishes lye nib­ling at a bait, and the Porpas playes in the pride of the tide: the shepheards pipe entertaines the Princesse of Arcadia, and the healthfull Souldier hath a pleasant march. The Larke and the Lambe looke vp at the Sun, and the labourer is abroad by the dawning of the day: Sheepes eyes in Lambs heads, tell kind hearts strange tales, while faith and troth make the true Louers knot: the aged haires find a fresh life, and the youthfull chéeks are as red as a cherry: It were a world to set downe the worth of this moneth: But in summe, I thus conclude, I hold it the Heauens blessing, and the Earths comfort. Farewell.

May.

IT is now May, and the swéetnesse of the Aire refresh­eth euery spirit: the sunny beames bring forth faire Blossomes, and the dripping Clouds water Floraes great garden: the male Déere puts out the Ueluet head, and the pagged Doe is neere her fawning: The Sparhawke now is drawne out of the mew, and the Fowler makes ready his whistle for the Quaile: the Larke sets the morning watch, and the euening, the Nightingale: the Barges like Bowers, keep the streams of the swéet Riuers, and the Mackrell with the Shad are taken prisoners in the Sea: the tall young Oke is cut downe for the Maypole: the Sithe and the Sickle are the Mowers furniture, and fayre weather makes the Labourer merry: the Physitian now prescribes the cold Whey, and the Apothecary gathers the dew for a medicine: Butter & Sage make the wholsome breakf [...]st, but fresh chéese and creame are meat for a dainty mouth▪ and the Strawbery and the Pescod want no price in the market: the Chicken and the Ducke are fatned for the market▪ and many a Goflin neuer liues to be a Goose. It is the moneth wherein Nature hath her full of mirth, and the Senses are filled with delights. I conclude, It is from the Heauens a Grace, & to the Earth a Gladnesse. Farewell.

Iune.

IT is now Iune, and the Hay-makers are mustered to make an army for the field, where not alwayes in order, they march vnder the Bagge and the Bottle, when betwixt the Forke and the Rake, there is séene great force of armes: Now doth the broad Oke com­fort the weary Laborer, while vnder his shady Boughes he sits singing to his bread and cheese: the [...]ay-cocke is the Poore mans Lodging, and the fresh Riuer is his gracious Neighbour: Now the Faulcon and the Tassell try their wings at the Partridge, and the fat Bucke fils the great pasty: the trees are all in their rich aray: but the séely Shéep is turned out of his coat: the Roses and swéet Herbes put the Distiller to his cunning, while the gréene apples on the trée are ready for the great bel­lied wiues: Now begins the Hare to gather vp her heeles, and the Foxe lookes about him, for feare of the Hound: the Hooke and the Sickle are making ready for haruest: the Medow grounds gape for raine, and the Corne in the eare begins to harden: the little Lads make Pipes of the straw, and they that cannot dance, will yet bee hop­ping: the Ayre now groweth somewhat warme, and the coole winds are very comfortable: the Sayler now makes merry passage, and the nimble Foot-man runnes with pleasure: In briefe, I thus conclude, I hold it a sweet season, the senses perfume, and the spirits comfort. Farewell.

Iuly.

IT is now Iuly, and the Sunne is gotten vp to his height, whose heat parcheth the earth, and burnes vp the grasse on the mountaines. Now begins the Ca­non of heauen to rattle, and when the fire is put to the charge, it breaketh out among the Cloudes: the stones of congealed water cut off the eares of the Corne: and the blacke stormes affright the faint-hearted: the Stag and the Bucke are now in pride of their time, and the hard­nesse of their heads makes them fit for the Horner: Now hath the Sparhawke the Partridge in the foot, and the Ferret doth tickle the Cony in the borough. Now doeth the Farmer make ready his teame, and the Carter with his whip, hath no small pride in his Whistle? Now doe the Reapers try their backs and their Armes, and the lusty Youthes pitch the sheafes into the Cart, The old Partridge calles her Couey in the morning, and in the euening, the Shepheard fals to folding of his flocke: the Sparrowes make a charme vpon the gréene Bushes, till the Fowler come and take them by the dozens: the Smelt now begins to be in season, and the Lamprey out of the Riuer leapes into a Pye: the Souldier now hath a hot march, and the Lawyer sweats in his l [...]ned Gowne: The Pedler now makes a long walke, and the Aqua vitae Bottle sets his face on a fiery heat: In summe, I thus conclude of it, I hold it a profitable season, the La­bourers gaine, and the rich mans wealth. Farewell.

August.

IT is now August, and the Sunne is somewhat to­wards his declination, yet such is his heat as harde­neth the soft clay, dries vp the standing ponds, wy­thereth the sappy leaues, and scorcheth the skin of the naked: now beginne the Gleaners to follow the Corne Cart, and a little bread to a great deale of drinke makes the Trauailers dinner: the Melowne and the Cucum­ber is now in request: and Oyle and vineger giue atten­dance on the Sallet hearbes: the Alehouse is more fre­quented then the Tauerne, and a fresh Riuer is more comfortable then a fiery Furnace: the Bathe is now much visited by diseased bodies, and in the fayre Riuers, swimming is a swéet exercise: the Bow and the Bowle pirke many a purse, and the Cockes with their héeles spurne away many a mans wealth: The Pipe and the Taber is now lustily set on worke, and the Lad and the Lasse will haue no lead on their héeles: the new Wheat makes the Gossips Cake, and the Bride Cup is caried aboue the heads of the whole Parish: the Fo [...] ne [...]ty pot welcomes home the Haruest cart, and the Garland of Flowers crownes the Captaine of the Reapers. Oh, 'tis the mercy time, wherein honest Neighbours make good chéere, and God is glorified in his blessings on the earth. In summe, for that I find, I thus conclude, I hold it the worlds welfare, and the earths Warming-p [...].

Farewell.

September.

IT is now September, and the Sunne begins to fall much from his height, the medowes are left bare, by the mouthes of hungry Cattell, and the Hogges are turned into the Corne fields: the windes begin to knocke the Apples heads together on the trees, and the fallings are gathered to fill the Pyes for the Houshold: the Saylers fall to worke to get afore the wind [...], and if they spy a storme, it puts them to prayer: the Souldier now begins to shrug at the weather, and the Campe dis­solued, the Companies are put to Garison: the Lawyer now begins his Haruest, and the Client p [...]yes for words by waight: the Innes now begin to prouide for ghests, and the night [...]aters in the stable, pinch the Trauailer in his bed: Paper, pen, and inke are much in request, and the quarter Sessions take order with the way-layers: C [...]ales and wood make toward the Chimney, and Ale and Sacke are in account with good fellowes: the But­cher now knocks downe the great Béeues, and the Poul­ters feathers make toward the Upholster: Walflet Oy­sters are the Fishwiues wealth, and Pippins fine are the Costermongers rich merchandise: the flayle and the fan fall to worke in the Barne, and the Corne market is full of the Bakers: the Porkets now are driuen to the Woods, and the home-fed Pigges make porke for the market. In briefe, I thus conclude of it, I hold it the Winters forewarning, and the Summers farewell.

Adieu.

October.

IT is now October, and the lofty windes make bare the trées of their leaues, while the hogs in the Woods grow fat with the falne Acorns: the forward Déere be­gin to goe to rut, and the barren Doe groweth good meat: the Basket makers now gather their rods, and the fishers lay their leapes in the déepe: the loade horses goe apace to the Mill, and the Meal-market is seldome with­out people: the Hare on the hill makes the Greyhound a faire course & the Foxe in the woods cals the Hounds to a full cry: the multitude of people raiseth the price of wares, and the smoothe tongue will sell much: the Saylor now bestirreth his stumps, while the Merchant liueth in feare of the weather: the great feasts are now at hand for the City, but the poore must not beg for feare of the stockes: a fire and a pai [...]e of Cards kéepe the ghests in the Ordina­ry, and Tobacco is held very precious for the Rhewme: The Coaches now begin to rattle in the stréet: but the cry of the poore is vnpleasing to the rich: Muffes and Cuffes are now in request, and the shuttel-Cocke with the Bat­tel-doore is a pretty house-exercise: Tennis & Baloune are sports of some charge, and a quicke bandy is the Court-kéepers commodity: dancing an [...] [...]encing are now in some vse, and kind hearts and true Louers lye close, to kéepe off cold: the Titmouse now kéepes in the hollow trée, and the black bird sits close in the bottome of a hedge: In briefe, for the little pleasure I find in it, I thus con­clude of it: I hold it a Messenger of ill newes, and a se­cond seruice to a cold dinner. Farewell.

Nouember.

IT is now Nouember, and according to the old Pro­uerbe, Let the Thresher take his flayle, and the ship no more sayle: for the high winds and the rough seas will try the ribs of the Shippe, and the hearts of the Sailers: Now come the Countrey people all wet to the Market, and the toyling Carriers are pittifully moyled: The yong Herne and the Shoulerd are now fat for the great Feast, and the Wood cocke begins to make toward the Cockeshoot: the Warriners now beginne to plie their haruest, and the Butcher, after a good bargaine drinks a health to the Grasier: the Cooke and the Comfitmaker, make ready for Christmas, and the Minstrels in the Countrey, beat their boyes for false fingring: Schollers before breakefast haue a cold sto­macke to their bookes, and a Master without Art is fit for an A B. C. A red herring and a cup of Sacke, make warre in a weake stomacke, and the poore mans fast, is better then the Gluttons surfet: Trenchers and dishes are now necessary seruants, and a locke to the Cubboord kéepes a bit for a néede: Now beginnes the Goshauke to wéede the wood of the Phesant, and the Mallard loues not to heare the belles of the Faulcon: The winds now are cold, and the Ayre chill, and the poore die through want of Charitie: Butter and Chéese beginne to rayse their prices, and Kitchen stuffe is a commo­ditie, that euery man is not acquainted with. In [Page] summe, with a conceit of the chilling cold of it, I thus conclude in it: I hold it the discomfort of Nature, and Reasons patience. Farewell.

December.

IT is now December, & hée that walkes the stréets, shall find durt on his shooes, Except hée goe all in bootes: Now doth the Lawyer make an end of his haruest, and the Client of his purse: Now Capons and Hennes, beside Turkies, Geese and Duckes, be­sides Béefe and Mutton, must all die for the great feast, for in twelue dayes a multitude of people will not bée fed with a little: Now plummes and spice, Sugar and Honey, square it among pies and broth, and Gos­sip I drinke to you, and you are welcome, and I thanke you, and how doe you, and I pray you bée merrie: Now are the Taylors and the Tiremakers full of worke against the Holidayes, and Musicke now must bée in tune, or else neuer: the youth must dance and sing, and the aged sit by the fire. It is the Law of Nature, and no Contradiction in reason: The Asse that hath borne all the yeare, must now take a little rest, and the leane Oxe must féed till hée bée fat: The Footman now shall haue many a foule step, and the Ostler shall haue worke enough about the héeles of the Horses, while the Tapster, if hée take not heed, will lie drunke in the Seller: The prices of meat will rise apace, and the apparell of the proud will make the Taylor rich: Dice and Cardes, will benefit the But­ler: [Page] And if the Cooke doe not lacke wit, hée will swéetly licke his fingers: Starchers and Launderers will haue their hands full of worke, and Periwigs and pain­ting wil not bee a little set by, strange stuffes will bee well sold, strange tales well told, strange sights much sought, strange things much bought, and what else as fals out. To conclude, I hold it the costly Purueyour of Excesse, and the after breeder of necessitie, the practice of Folly, and the Purgatory of Reason.

Farewell.

Christmas day.

IT is now Christmas, and not a Cup of drinke must passe without a Caroll, the Beasts, Fowle and Fish, come to a generall execution, and the Corne is ground to dust for the Bakehouse, and the Pastry: Cards and Dice purge many a purse, and the Youth shew their agility in shooing of the wild Mare: now good cheere and welcome, and God be with you, and I thanke you: and against the new yeare, prouide for the pre­sents: the Lord of Mis-rule is no meane man for his time, and the ghests of the high Table must lacke no Wine: the lusty bloods must looke about them like men, and piping and dauncing puts away much melancho­ly: stolne Uenison is swéet, and a fat Coney is worth money: Pit-falles are now set for small Birdes, and a Woodcocke hangs himselfe in a gynne: a good fire heats all the house, and a full Almes-basket makes the Beggers Prayers: the Maskers and the Mum­mers [Page] make the merry sport: but if they lose their mo­ney, their Drumme goes dead: Swearers and Swag­gerers are sent away to the Ale-house, and vnruly Wenches goe in danger of Iudgement: Musicians now make their Instruments speake out, and a good song is worth the hearing. In summe, it is a holy time, a duty in Christians, for the remembrance of Christ, and custome among friends, for the maintenance of good fellowship: In briefe, I thus conclude of it: I hold it a memory of the Heauens Loue, and the worlds peace, the myrth of the honest, and the meeting of the friendly. Farewell.

Lent.

IT is now Lent, and the poore Stockfish is sore beaten for his stubbornnesse: the Herring dominiers like a Lord of great Seruice, and the fruit of the Dairy makes a hungry Feast: Fasting and mourning is the life of the poore, and the Dogges grow leane, with the lacke of bones, while the Prisoners heart is nipt with penury: the Beasts of the Forrests haue a bare feed, and the hard crusts try the téeth of the Begger: The Byrd hath a little shelter in the Bush, and a bitter frost makes a backward Spring: The Sunne giues but little warmth, and the March wind makes the Ayre cold: The Fisher-men now are the Rakers of the Sea, and the Oyster gapes, to catch hold of the Crab: Solitarinesse and Melancholy bréed the hurt of Nature, and the naked nesse of the Earth is the eyes discomfort: [Page] Idle people sit picking of Sallets, and necessity of exer­cise is an enemy to study: the winds grow dangerous to the Sayler, and the Rockes are the ruine of the Mer­chant: the Sentinell now keeps a cold watch, and the Sconce is nothing comfortable to the Souldier: the shep­heard hath little pleasure in his Pipe, and Age hath but a dead feeling in loue: the Colt hath a ragged coat, and the halfe mewed head disgraceth the Déere: the Faulcons wing is but young feathered, and the déepe f [...]llow wea­ries the Huntsman: there is nothing pleasing but hope, that the dayes will lengthen and time will be more com­fortable. I conclude, in it selfe, it is an vncomfortable season, the Heauens frown, and the Earths punishment. Farewell.

Good Friday.

IT is now Good Friday, and a generall Fast must be kept among all Christians, in remembrance of Christs Passion: Flesh and Fish must bee vanished all stomackes, strong or weake: Now beginnes the Farewell to thin fare, and the Fishmongers may shut vp their shops till the Holy-dayes be past: the Butchers now must wash their Boords, make cleane their Aprons, sharpen their kniues, and sort their prickes, and cut out their meat for Easter Eue market: Now must the Poul­ters make ready their Rabbet [...] and their Fowle, the Cookes haue their Ouens cleane, and all for Pies and Tarts against the merry Feast: now the Maids bestir them about their houses, the Launders about their Lin­nen, [Page] the Taylors about Apparell, and all for this holy time: Now young Lambs, young Rabbets, and young Chickens dye for fine appetites, and now the Minstrell tunes his Instruments, to haue them ready for the yong people: but with the aged and the religious, there is no­thing but sorrow and mourning, confession, contrition, and absolution, and I know not what: few that are mer­ry, but children that breake vp schoole, and wenches that are vpon the mariage. In summe, it is such an odde day by it selfe, that I will onely make this conclusion of it: It is the Bridle of Nature, and the Examiner of Rea­son. Farewell.

Easter day.

IT is now Easter, and Iacke of Lent is turned out of doores: the Fishermen now hang vp their nets to dry, while the Calfe and the Lambe walke toward the Kitchin and the Pastry: The veluet heads of the Forrests fall at the loose of the Crosse-bow: the Sam­man Trowt playes with the Fly, and the March Rab­bit runnes dead into the dish: the Indian commodities pay the Merchants aduenture: and Barbary Sugar puts Honey out of countenance: the holy feast is kept for the faithfull, and a knowne Iew hath no place among Christians: the Earth now beginnes to paint her vp­per garment, and the trées put out their young buds, the little Kids chew their Cuds, and the Swallow féeds on the Flyes in the Ayre: the Storke clenseth [Page] the Brookes of the Frogges, and the Sparhawke pre­pares her wing for the Partridge: the little Fawne is stolne from the Doe, & the male Déere beginne to heard: the spirit of Youth is inclined to mirth, and the conscio­nable Scholler will not breake a holy-day: the Minstrell cals the Maid from her dinner, and the Louers eyes doe troule like Tennis balls. There is mirth and ioy, when there is health and liberty: and he that hath money, will be no meane man in his mansion: the Ayre is wholsome, and the Skye comfortable, the Flowers odoriferous, and the Fruits pleasant: I conclude, it is a day of much de­lightfulnesse: the Sunnes dancing day, and the Earths Holy-day. Farewell.

Morning.

IT is now Morning, and Time hath woond vp the Whéeles of his day Watch, while the Larke, the Sunnes Trumpet, calls the Labourer to his worke: there is ioy and comfort through the whole world, that the spirits of life are awaked out of their dead sléepe: It is the blessed time of reason, in which the best things are begunne, while Nature goes to experience for the better perfection of her businesse: The Sunne now beginnes to draw open the Curtaine of his Pauilion, and with the heat of his Beames drawes vp the vn­wholesome mists in the Ayre: the Mother Earth is recouered of her cold sicknesse, and sends forth her fayre flowers to perfume the infected ayre: now the Sorceresse [Page] with her magicke Art puts her charmes to silence, and the Birds of the woods make musicke to the poore trauel­ler. Now begin the wits of the wise, and the limbes of strength to compasse the world, and make Art honorable: Theeues now are either caued or imprisoned, and know­ledge of comfort puts care to a Non plus. The beasts of the forrests vse the silence of feare, and the Wolfe like a Dog dares not looke out of his denne: the Wormes into the earth, and the Toads into the Waters, flye for feare of their heads: This is a time that I ioy in, for I think no time lost, but in sléepe: and now haue imaginations their best meanes to attire themselues in the golden liue­rie of their best graces; to which the night is at no time by depriuation of action. I conclude, it is in it selfe a blessed season, a dispersing of the first darknesse, and the Diall of Alexander. Farewell.

One of the Clocke.

IT is now the first houre, and Time is, as it were, stepping out of darknesse, and stealing towards the day: the Cocke cals to his [...]enne, and bids her be­ware of the Foxe, and the Watch hauing walkt the stréets, take a nap vpon a stall: the Bell-man cals to the maids to looke to their lockes, their fire, and their light, and the child in the cradle cals to the Nurse for a Dug: the Cat sits watching behind the Cupboord for a Mouse, and the Flea sucks on swéet flesh, till he is ready to burst with the blood: the spirits of the studious start out of their dreames, and if they cannot fall asléepe againe, then [Page] to the Booke and the waxe Candle: the Dog at the doore frayes the Théefe from the house, and the Théefe with­in the house may hap to be about his businesse. In some places Bels are rung to certaine orders: but the quiet sléeper neuer tels the Clocke: not to dwell too long vp­on it, I hold it the farewell of the night, and the forerun­ner to the day, the spirits watch, and Reasons worke­master. Farewell.

Two of the Clocke.

IT is now the second houre, and the point of the Diall hath stept ouer the first stroake, and now Time be­ginnes to draw backe the Curtaine of the night: the Cocke againe cals to his Henne, and the Watch be­ginne to buss [...]e toward their discharge: The Bell-man hath made a great part of his walke, and the Nurse be­ginnes to huggle the child to the Dugge: the Cat sits playing with the Mouse which she hath catched, and the Dog with his barking wakes the seruants of the house: the studious now are neere vpon waking, and the théefe will be gone, for feare of being taken: The Forresters now be about their walkes, and yet stealers sometim [...] cozen the Kéepers: Warreners now beginne to draw homeward, and far dwellers from the towne, will be on the way to the market; The Souldier now lookes to­wards the Court de Garde, and the Corporall takes care [Page] for the reliefe of the Watch: the earnest Scholler will be now at his [...]ooke, and the thrifty Husbandman will rowse towards his rising: the Seaman will now looke out for light, and if the wind be faire, hee cals for a Can of [...]ee [...]e: the fishermen now take the benefit of the tyde, and he that bobs for Eeles, will not be without Worms. In summe, I hold it much of the nature of the first houre, but somewhat better. And to conclude, I thinke it the enemy of Sleepe, and the entrance to Exercise.

Farewell.

Three of the Clocke.

IT is now the third houre, and the Windowes of Hea­uen beginne to open, and the Sunne beginnes to co­lour the Clouds in the Sky, before he shew his face to the World: Now are the spirits of life, as it were, risen out of death: the Cocke cals the seruants to their dayes work, and the grasse horses are fetcht from the Pastures: the Milke-maids begin to looke toward their dayry, and the good Huswife beginnes to looke about the house: the Porrage pot is on for the seruants breakfast, and hungry stomackes will soone bee ready for their victuall: the Sparrow beginnes to chirpe about the house, and the Birds in the bushes will bid them welcome to the field: the Shepheard sets on his Pitch on the fire, and fills his Tar-pot ready for his flocke: the Wheele and the Reele beginne to be set ready, and a merry song makes the worke seeme easie: the Plough-man falls to harnesse his horses, and the [...]hrasher beginnes to looke toward the barne: the Scholler that loues learning, will be hard at his Booke, and the Labourer by great, will be walking toward his worke. In briefe, it is a parcell of time, to good purpose, the exercise of Nature, and the entrance into Art. Farewell.

Foure of the Clocke.

IT is now the fourth houre, and the Sunne beginnes to send her beames abroad, whose glimmering bright­nesse no eye can behold: Now crowes the Cocke lustily, and claps his wings for ioy of the light, and with his Hennes leaps lightly from his Roust: Now are the Horses at their Chaffe and Prouender: the ser­uants at breakfast, the Milk-maid gone to the field, and the Spinner at the Wheele: and the Shepheard with his Dog are going toward the Fold: Now the Beg­gers rouse them out of the Hedges, and begin their mor­ning craft; but if the Constable come, beware the stocks: The Birds now beginne to flocke, and the Sparhawke beginnes to prey for his Ayry: The Thresher beginnes to stretch his long armes, and the thriuing Labourer will fall hard to his worke: the quicke witted braine will be quoting of places, and the cunning work-man will bee trying of his skill: the Hounds begin to bee coupled for the chase, and the Spaniels follow the Faulconer to the field: Trauellers beginne to looke toward the Stable, where an honest Hostler is worthy his reward: the Soul­dier now is vpon discharge of his Watch, and the Cap­taine with his company may take as good rest as they can: In summe, I thus conclude of it: I hold it the Mes­senger of Action, and the Watch of Reason.

Farewell.

Fiue of the Clocke.

IT now fiue of the Clocke, and the Sunne is going a­pace vpon his iourney: and fie sluggards, who would be asleepe? The Bels ring to Prayer, and the streéts are full of people, and the high-wayes are stored with Trauellers: the Schollers are vp and going to schoole, and the Rods are ready for the Truants correction: the Maids are at milking, and the seruants at Plough, and the Wheele goes merrily, while the Mistresse is by: the Capons and the Chickens must bee serued without doore, and the Hogges cry till they haue their swill: the Shepheard is almost gotten to his Fold, and the Heard beginnes to blow his horne through the Towne. The blind Fidler is vp with his dance and his song, and the Alehouse doore is vnlocked for good fellowes: the hounds begin to find after the Hare, and horse and foot follow af­ter the cry: the Traueller now is well on his way, and if the weather be faire, he walkes with the better chéere: the Carter merrily whistles to his horse, and the Boy with his Sling casts stones at the Crowes: the Lawyer now begins to look on his Case, and if he giue good coun­sell, he is worthy of his Fee: In briefe, not to stay to [...] long vpon it, I hold it the necessity of Labour, and the note of Profit. Farewell.

Sixe of the Clocke.

IT is now the sixt houre, the swéet time of the Mor­ning, and the Sunne at euery window calls the Sléepers from their beds: the Marygold beginnes to open her leaues, & the Dew on the ground doth swée­ten the Ayre: the Faulconers now méet with many a faire flight, and the Hare and the Hounds haue made the Huntsman good sport: the shoppes in the City begin to shew their wares, and the market people haue taken their places: The Schollers now haue their Fourmes, and whosoeuer cannot say his Lesson, must presently looke for Absolution: The Forester now is drawing home to his Lodge, and if his Déere be gone, hée may draw after cold scent: Now begins the curst Mistresse to put her Girles to their taskes, and a laz▪ Hylding will doe hurt among good Workers: Now the Mower falles to whetting of his Sythe, and the Beaters of Hempe giue a hoh to euery blow: The Ale Knight is at his Cup ere hée can well see his drinke, and the begger is as nimble toung'd, as if he had béene at it all day: the Fishermen now are at the Craier for their Oysters, and they will neuer lyn crying, while they haue one in their basket: In summe, not to be tedious, I hold it, the Sluggards shame, and the Labourers praise. Farewell.

Seuen of the Clocke.

IT is now the seuenth houre, and Time begins to set the world hard to worke: The Milke-maides in their Dayry to their Butter and their Chéese, the Ploughmen to their Ploughes and their Harrowes in the field: the Schollers to their Lessons, the Lawyers to their Cases, the Merchants to their accounts, the Shop-men to What lacke you? and euery Trade to his businesse: Oh tis a world to sée how life leapes about the lims of the health­full: none but findes something to doe: the Wise, to study, the strong, to labour: the Fantasticke, to make loue: the Poet, to make Uerses: the Player, to conne his part: and the Musitian to try his note: euery one in his qualitie▪ and according to his condition, sets himself to some exercise, either of the body, or the minde: And therefore since it is a time of much labour, and great vse, I will thus briefly conclude of it: I hold it the enemy of Idlenesse, and imployer of Industry.

Farewell.

Eight of the Clocke.

IT is now the eight houre, and good stomackes are ready for a breakfast: The Huntsman now calls in his Houndes, and at the fall of the Déere the Hornes goe apace: Now beginne the Horses to breathe and the Labourer to sweat, and with quicke hands, worke rids apace: Now the Schollers make a charme in the Schooles, and Ergo kéepes a stirre in many a false Argu­ment: Now the Chapmen fall to furnish the shoppes, the market people make away with their ware: The Tauerne hunters taste of the tother Wine, and the nap­py Ale makes many a drunken Noll: Now the Thra­sher beginnes to fall to his breakfast, and eate apace, and worke apace, riddes the Corne quickely away: Now the Piper lookes what hée hath gotten since day, and the Begger, if hée haue hit well, will haue a pot of the best: The Traueller now begins to water his horse, and if he were earely vp, perhaps a bait will doe well. The Osteler now makes cleane his stables, and if Ghestes come in, hée is not without his welcome. In conclusion, for all I finde in it, I hold it the Mindes trauaile, and the Bodies toyle. Farewell.

Nine of the Clocke.

IT is now the nynth houre, and the Sunne is gotten vp well toward his height, and the sweating Tra­ueller beginnes to féele the burthen of his way: The Scholler now falles to conning of his Lesson, and the Lawyer at the Barro falls to pleading of his Case: the Soldier now makes many a weary steppe in his march, and the amorous Courtier almost ready to goe out of his Chamber: The market now growes to bée full of people, and the Shopmen now are in the heat of the mar­ket: the Faulconers now finde it too hote flying, and the Huntsmen begin to grow weary of their sport: The Byrders now take in their Nets and their Roddes, and the Fishermen send their Fish to the Market: the Ta­uerne and the Ale-house are almost full of Guestes, and Westminster and Guild Hall are not without a word or two on both sides: The Carriers now are loading out of Towne, and not a Letter but must bée payd for ere it passe: The Cryer now tryes the strength of his throat, and the Beareward leades his Beare home after his challenge: The Players Billes are almost all set vp, and the Clarke of the Market begins to shew his Office: In summe, in this houre there is much to doe, as well in the City, as the Countrey: And therefore to be short, I will thus make my conclusion: I hold it the toyle of Wit, and the tryall of Reason. Farewell.

Ten of the Clocke.

IT is now the tenth houre, and now preparation is to bée made for dinner: The Trenchers must be scraped, and the Napkins folded, the Salt couered, and the Kniues scoured, and the cloth layed, the Stooles set ready, and all for the Table: there must bee haste in the Kitchin for the Boyld and the Roste, prouision in the sel­lar for Wyne, Ale, and Béere: The Pantler and the Butler must bée ready in their Office, and the Usher of the Hall must marshall the Seruingmen: The Hawke must bée set on the Pearch, and the Dogges put into the Kennell, and the Guests that come to Dinner, must bée inuited against the houre: The Schollers now fall to construe and parce, and the Lawyer makes his Clyent either a Man or a Mouse: The Chapmen now draw home to their Innes, and the Shopmen fall to folding vp their Wares: The Ploughman now beginnes to grow towards home, and the Dayry mayd, after her worke, falls to clensing of her Uessels: The Cooke is cutting soppes for Broth, and the Butler is chipping of loaues for the Table: The Minstrels beginne to goe towards the Tauernes, and the cursed Crue visit the vyle places: In summe, I thus conclude of it: I hold it the Messen­ger to the stomacke, and the spirits recreation.

Farewell.

Eleuen of the Clocke.

IT is now the eleuenth houre, children must breake vp Schoole, Lawyers must make home to their houses, Merchants to the Exchange, and Gallants to the Ordinary: the Dishes set ready for the meat, and the Glasses halfe full of faire water: Now the market people make towards their Horses, and the Beggers be­gin to draw néere the Townes: the Porrage put off the fire, is set a cooling for the Plough folke, and the great Loafe, and the Chéese are set ready on the Table: Col­ledges and Halles ring to Dinner, and a Schollers Com­mons is soone disgested: The Rich mans Guests are at Courtsey, and I thanke you: and the poore mans Feast is Welcome, and God be with you: The Page is ready with his Knife and his Trencher, and the meat will bée halfe cold, ere the Guests can agrée on their places: The Cooke voides the Kitchin, and the Butler, the Buttery, and the Seruing men stand all ready at the Dresser: the Children are called to say Grace before Dinner, and the nice people rather looke then eate: the gates be loekt for feare of the Beggers, and the Minstrels called in, to bée ready with their Musicke: The pleasant wit is now breaking a Iest, and the hungry man puts his Iawes to their proofe: In summe, to conclude my opinion of it, I hold it the Epicures Ioy, and the Labourers ease.

Farewell.

Twelue of the Clocke.

IT is now the twelfth Houre, the Sunne is at his height, and the middle of the day, the first course is serued in, and the second ready to follow: the dishes haue béen red ouer, and the reuersion set by: the wine beginnes to be called for, and who waits not is chidden: talke passeth away time, and when stomackes are full, discourses grow dull and heauy: But after Fruit and Chéese, say Grace and take away: Now the Markets are done, the Exchange broke vp, and the Lawyers at Dinner, and Duke Humphreys seruants make their walkes in Paules, the Shop men kéepe th [...]ir shops, and their seruants goe to dinner: the traueller begins to call for a reckoning, and goes into the stable to sée his Horse eate his prouender: The Plough man now is in the bot­tome of his Dish, and the Laborer drawes out his Din­ner out of his Bagge: The Beasts of the field take rest after their feed, and the Birds of the Ayre are at I [...]ke in the Bushes: the Lambe lies sucking, while the Ewe chewes the Cud, and the Rabbet will scarce péepe out of her Borough: the Hare sits close asléepe in her muse, while the Dogges sit waiting for a bone from the Tren­cher: In briefe, for all I find of it, I thus conclude in it: I hold it the stomacks pleasure, and the spirits wearines.

Farewell.

Midnight.

NOw is the Sunne withdrawne into his Bed­chamber, the Windowes of Heauen are shut vp, and silence with darknesse haue made a walke ouer the whole Earth, and Time is tasked to worke vpon the worst Actions: yet Uertue being her selfe, is neuer weary of well doing, while the best spirits are studying for the bodies rest: Dreames and Uisions are the Haunters of troubled spirits, while Nature is most comforted in the hope of the morning: the body now lyes as a dead lump, while sleepe, the pride of ease, lulls the Senses of the Sloathfull: the tired Limbs now cease from their labours, and the studious braines giue ouer their businesse: the Bed is now an image of the Graue, and the Prayer of the Faithfull makes the Pathway to Heauen: Louers now enclose a mutuall content, while gracious minds haue no wicked imaginations: Théeues, Wolues, and Foxes, now fall to their pray, but, a strong locke, and a good wit, will aware much mischiefe: and he that trusteth in God will be safe from the Deuill.

Farewell.

The Conclusion.

ANd thus to conclude, for that it growes late, and a nod or two with an heauy eye, makes me feare to proue a plaine Noddy, entreating your pati­ence till to morrow, and hoping you will censure mildly of this my Fantasticke Labour, wishing I may hereafter please your senses with a better subiect then this; I will in the meane time pray for your prosperity, and end with the English Phrase, God giue you good night.

FINIS.

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