PUBLIVS OVIDIVS NASO EQVES ROMANUS : POETARUM INGENIOSISSIMUS
The sweet-tongd Ovid's Counterfeit behold;
Which Noblest Romans wore in rings of gold
Or would you yt, which his owne pencil drew.
The Poet, in his deathless Poëms, view.
[...]V [...]M. [...]u [...]it.

OVID DE ARTE AMANDI. AND THE REMEDY of LOVE ENGLISHED As also the Lovs of Hero & Leander, A mock-Poem.

Together with Choice Poems, and rare pieces of Drollery.

LONDON, Printed in the Year 1662.

PUBLII, OVIDII NASON …

PUBLII, OVIDII NASONIS DE ARTE AMANDI: OR THE ART of LOVE.
The Proheme or Introduction.

IF there be any in this multitude,
That in the art of Love is dull and rude,
Me let him read: and these my lines rehearse,
He shall be made a Doctor by my verse.
By art of sailes and oa [...]s, Seas are divided,
by art the Chariot tunnes, by art love's guided,
By art the bridles rein [...]d in, or let slip:
T [...]phys by art did guide the Hemonian ship.
And me hath Venus her Arts master made,
To teach her Science, and set up her trade▪
And time succeeding shall call me alone,
Love expert Tiphys and Antomedon.
Love in himself [...]s apish and untoward,
Yet being a ch [...]ld, I [...]le whip him when he's froward;
A [...]illes in his youth wa [...] taught to run
On the string'd [...] di [...]ision:
A [...] on his [...]de and [...] aspect [...]d ce [...]se,
In [...]uct [...]g [...]m in old P [...]ies:
He that so of his [...] h [...]s f [...]es
Made quake [...]
H [...] furn [...] [...]
And with [...] to [...]
Aen [...]ides by Ch [...]ron was instructed,
And by my Art is Love himself conducted.
Both goddess sons, Venus and Thetis joys,
Both shrewd, both waggish, and unhappy boys:
Yet the stiff Bulls neck by the Yoke is worn,
The proud Steed chews the bit which he doth s [...]orn,
And though Loves darts my own heart cleaves asunder,
Yet by my Art the wag shall be kept under,
And the more deep my flaming heart is found,
The more I will revenge me of my wound:
Sacred Apo [...]o witness of my flame,
Behold thy Arts! do not fa [...]slie claim,
Of Clio's sisters, loe I take no keep,
That in the vale of Asia feed their sheep.
Proud Sky I teach of what I have been taster,
Love bid me speak, I'le be your skilful Master:
And what I speak is true: thus I begin,
Be present at my labours, Love's fair Queen.
Keep hence you modest maids and come not near.
That use to blush, and shamf [...]st garments wear,
That have scant ruffer, and keep your hair unseen,
Whose feet with your white Aprons covered been.
From Vesta's Virgins here no place is left;
My Muse sings Venus spoiles and Love's sweet theft,
What kind affections Loves thoughts do pierce,
And there shall be no fault in this my Verse.

The first Book.

FIrst, thou that art a Fresh-man and art bent
To bear Love's armes and follow Cupid, tent.
Find whom to love, the next thing thou must do,
Learn how to speak her fait, to plead and woo:
Last, having wonthy Mistriss to thy lure,
I'le teach thee [...]ow to make that Love endure
This is my aime, I'le keep with in this space,
And in this road my Chariot wheel shall trace.
Whil'st thou liv'st free and art a Batcheler.
The love of one above the rest prefer:
To whom thy soul says you alone content me.
But such a one shall not from heaven be sent thee,
Such are not dropt down from the Azure skies,
But thou must seek her out with busie eyes:
Well kn [...]ws the Hun [...]s-man where his [...]oyl to set.
And in what den the Boa [...] his teeth doth whet:
We [...]l knows the Fowler where to lay his gin;
The Fisher knows what pool most fish are in:
And thou that studiest to become a Lover,
Learn in what place most Virgins to discover.
I do not bid thee sail the Seas to seek,
Or travel far to find one thou dost like;
Like Persons that among the Negroes sought.
And fair Andro [...]ide f [...]o [...] India br [...]ught;
Or Paris, who to steal that dai [...]ry piece,
Travel'd as far a [...] 'Twixt Troy and [...]re [...]ce.
Behold the populous City in her pride,
Yields thee more choice then all the world beside:
More eares of ripe corn grows not in the fields,
Nor half so many boughs the forrest yields:
So many green leaves grow not in the woods,
Nor swim so many fish in the salt flouds;
So many starrs in heaven you cannot see,
As there be pretty wenches, Rome, in thee.
Fair Venus in the City of her son,
Is honoured with Aeneas first begun;
If in young Lasses thou delight, behold,
More Virgins thou maist see then can be told.
If women of indifferent age will ease thee,
Amongst a thousand thou maist choose to please thee,
If ancient women, in the City be
Matrons admired for their gravity,
To find a Matron, VVidow, or young Maid,
VValk but at such time under Pompey's shade.
VVhen as the Sun mounts on the Lion's back,
And store of all degrees thou shalt not lack.
Or to that marble walk, which was begun
And ended by a Mother and her Son.
Abroad, at noon, betimes, or evening late,
That day which we to Luna consecrate,
Or to the fifty sisters Belus daughters,
That all, save one, made of their husbands slaughters,
Or that same holiday we year [...]y keep,
In which fair Venus doth sat Adon weep;
Or in the se [...]enth day sacred more then all,
VVhich the Jew [...] Nation do their Sabboth call:
Or to the Memphian Church, where many a Vow
Is made to the Egyptian Isis and her Cow;
Or to the market place which way is short,
VVomen of, all estates do there resort.
Repair else to the Pulpets, even the same
In which our learned Orators declaime;
Here often is the pleaders tongue struck dumb
By those attractive eyes that thither come.
There he▪ to whom anothers cause is known,
Speaking of that, wants words to plead his own.
Venus rejoycing smiles to see from far,
The Lawyer made a client at the Bar.
But most of all I would have thee stir,
At the Play time unto the Theater,
Where thou shalt find them thick in a great number.
The matted seats, and the degrees to cumber.
Amongst that goodly crew thou maist behold
Whom thou both lov'st, suest to, and fain would hold.
Look as the laden Ants march to and fro,
And with their heavy burdens trooping go:
Or as the Bee from flower to flower doth flye,
Bearing each one her honey in her thigh;
And round about the spacious fields do stray,
So do the fairest women to a Play,
That I have wondred how it could include,
Of beauty such a gallant multitude.
There many a captive look hath conquered been,
Thither sole armed men to see and to be seen.
Great Romulus thou first these Playes contrives,
To git thy widdowed souldiers Sabines wives.
In those dayes from the marble house did wave,
No sail, no silken flag, no ensigne brave:
The Tragick Stage in that age was not red,
There were no mixed colours tempered:
Then did the Seene want art, the unready stage
Was made of grasse and earth in that rude age.
Round about which the boughs were thickly placed▪
The people did not think themselves disgrac [...]d.
Of tough and heathy sods to have their seats
Made in degree of sods and massy peats.
Thus plac'd in order, every Roman bride
Into his Virgins eyes, and by her side
Sate him down close, and severally did move
The innocent Sabine women to their love.
And whil'st the piper Th [...]uscus rudely plaid,
And by her stamping with his foot had made
A sign unto the rest, there was a shout,
Whose shrill report piere't all the air about.
Now with a sign of rape given from the King,
Round through the house the lusty Romans fling,
Leaving no corner of the same unsought;
Till every one a frighted Virgin caught.
Look as the trembling Dove the eagle flies,
Or a young Lamb when he a Wolf espies:
So run these poor girles, filling the air with shrieks,
Emptying of all the colour in their pale cheeks;
One fear possest them all, but not one look;
This tears her hair, she hath her wits forsook.
Some sadly sit, some on their mothers call,
Some chafe, some flye, some [...]and, but frighted all:
Thus were the ravisht Sabines blushing led,
Becoming shame unto each Roman's bed.
If any striv'd against it, strait her man
Would take her on his knee, whom fear made wan,
And say why weepest thou, sweet what ail'st my dear?
Dry up those drops, those clouds of sorrow clear;
I'le be to thee, if thou thy grief wilt smother,
Such as thy father was unto thy mother.
Full well could Romulus his souldiers please,
To give them such fair Mistresses as these.
If such rich wages thou wilt give to me,
Great Romulus thy souldier I will be.
From that first age the Theater hath bin
Even like a trap to take fair wenches in.
Frequent the Tilt-yard, for there oft times are
Clusters of people thronging at the barre.
Thou shalt not need there with thy fingers becken,
Of winking signs, or close nods do not recken;
But where thy Mistriss sits do thou abide,
Who shall forbid thee to attain her side?
A [...] near as the place suffers see thou get,
That none betwixt thee and her self be set.
If thou beest mute and bashful I will teach,
How to begin and break the Ice of speech.
Ask whose that horse was, what he was did guide him▪
Whence came he, if he well or ill did ride him▪
Which in the course of barriers best did do,
And whom she likes, him do thou favour to.
When thou espiest where Romes best gallants sit,
Applaud fait Venus, with thy Mistriss hand it.
If dust by chance upon her garments fall,
Look with thy ready hand thou brush it all.
And though none fall, yet look that without scoff
Thou with thy duteous hand beat that none off.
And let the least occasion shew thy duty,
None can be too servile unto beauty.
If her loose garments hang down at the skirt,
Lick up the dust or fall into the dirt:
Officious be to lift it up again,
And from the sluttish earth to bear her train.
Haply thy duteous guardian such may be▪
That thou her foot or well shap [...]l [...]g may see.
[...]eware that none behind her rudely crush her,
Or with his hard knees or his elbows brush her.
Small favours Womens light thoughts captivate,
And many in their loves makes fortunate.
Beating the dust, or fanning the fresh air,
Or to her weary foot but adde a stair;
Such diligence and duty often proves
Great furtherance to many in their loves.
Within these lists hath Cupid battel sounded,
And he that makes men wounds, himself bin wounded.
As careless of himself he pries about,
To know which conquerors of the champions stout
He feels himself pier [...]'t with a flying dart,
And wounded sore, complains him of his heart.
Oh what essembly did there come to see,
Great Caesar stand in all his royalty.
Praising his prizes in their shouts and skips,
Took in the Persian and Atheman ships,
From both sides of the Seas young Gallants came,
And Virgins of all sorts to see the same.
Then was the City throng'd, who could not find
In that fair crew a Saint to please his mind.
Oh Gods! how many did kind fancy drive,
Strangers to us, us unto them do wive.
Behold great Casar through the whole world framed
Will adde unto the nations he hath tamed.
The Eastern kingdoms hereto over past,
And they of all his Conquest shall be last.
See where a ftout revenger comes in armes,
Whose haughty breast the flower of honour warmes
That being but a child leads war in chains,
But more then children can by war constrains,
Thy birth-day shall by general accord,
With all the newest vertues be ador'd.
Thy wisdome which might well become the aged,
Shall in the self same rank be equipaged;
That all the world may wonder one so young.
Hath such a ripe wit, and so quaint a tongue.
Thy gifts out strip thy age whose slow pace lingers,
Such was his instant strength, who 'twixt his fingers
Crusht two invenom'd Snakes being in the cradle.
What would he do being mounted on the saddle?
As great as Bacchus when his years yet green,
Was in his power among the Indies seen:
Is Caesars heir unto his Fathers spirit,
That his sore fathers vertues do inherit.
With their auspicious fortune proudly dight
Wars, and shall vanquish still vvhere he doth fight.
Such be the fates decree must be his fame
That shall vvage battel under Casars name.
Live still, thou youth: of vvhom thou novv art King,
With milk vvhite heads and beards thy praises sing.
Revenge thy vvronged brothers, thy dead father.
And to the vvars millions of people gather.
Thy father, and thy countrey, father too.
C [...]se thee in armes 'gainst thy insulting foe;
Thou bear s [...]eligious armes so doth not he,
VV [...]o [...]g [...]eads him forth, but justice fights for thee.
B [...]old the Pa [...]ans. are already slain,
The Fall yield, homage to the Laetine train.
Caesar and Mars, both gods, his fathers both
He povverful in his journey, novv he goeth,
I prophesie his conquest, and his praise,
In a rich stile unto the heavens I [...]le raise:
VV [...]th my field vvords he shall his army chear,
VVhich vvith their svveet sound shall enchant each car;
VVhilst I the Parthians slight describe at large,
VVho backvvards shoot, as flying their foes charge.
And of the Romans resolution write,
In vain po [...] Parthian souldier thou dost fight.
Mars the great god of armes, forsake thy drum,
In vain thou hopest by slight to overcome.
In what day shalt thou, fairest of all t ings.
Bedeckt with gold, attended on by Kings;
And drawn along by four white snowy Steeds,
To royallize thy acts and famous deeds:
The whil'st thy troops of souldiers round invirons
The Captain of the enemy bound with irons;
Giving their legs to keep them from the flight,
Which they before did practise in their fight.
The ioyful young men mingled with sweet lasses,
Wil [...] croud and presse to see him as he passes;
And now being met no sweet occasion balk,
Make speech of any thing to enter talk:
Though ignorant in all things, all things know,
And take upon thee to explain each show.
As thus she Euphrates that first proceeds.
Having her head bound with a wreath of reeds,
Call the next Tigris with her hair all blue.
Maid, may be flattered, to think fain d things true.
Say this presents Armenia, Danas she,
In the next place let Achemoniae be.
That man's a conqueror, captives they that tremble;
Speak truly, if thou canst; if not, dissemble.
Thence if you go to banquet and sit down,
To taste sweet viands, and to drink a round;
There may thy thoughts unto my Artincline,
Observing Love more th [...]n the crimson VVine;
Cupid himself always inured to tapes,
Hath with his own white hand prest Bacchus grapes.
Untill his wings with sprinkled wine made wet,
He heavy sits, and sleeps where he is set.
The dew from off his feathers soon he shakes,
Which from his drowned wines the dry air takes;
But from his breast so soon he cannot drive,
Love sprink'ed there, though ne're so much he strive
VVine doth prepare the spirits, heats the brains hot,
Expels deep cares, make sorrows quite forgot:
Moves mirth, breeds laughter, makes the poor man proud,
And not remembring need to laugh aloud;
Sets ope the thoughts, doth rudeness banish,
Refineth arts, and at wines sight woes vanish.
In wine hath many a young mans heart bin took,
And born away in a fair wenches look.
In wine is lust and rankness of desire;
Joyn wine and love, and you adde fire to fire.
Choose not a face by Torch-light, but by day,
Onely grosse faults such splendours can bewray.
Trust no made lights, they will deceive thine eye;
Thou canst not judge by Torch-light, nor in twy.
At the broad noon-tide, when the sun shin'd rarest,
Did Paris say to Hellen, thou art fairest.
The night hides faults, the midnight hour is blind;
And no mishap't deformity can find.
Stones and dy d Scarlet by the day we chuse:
The broad day and bright sun in beauty use.
Sometimes unto those places task thy feet,
Where the fair forrest hanntresses do meet
In number more then Seasands, else prepare
To the warm bathes, where many a female are.
There some or other hurt by Cupids stroke,
Where troubled waters with warm brimstone smoke,
Mistakes the wounds, cause and exclaming raves,
Not blaming Love, but those unwholsome waves.
See where Diana's grovie Temple stands.
Where Kingdoms have been won by slaughtring hands;
Because she Cupid loathes and lives chast still.
Much people he hath slain, and much shall kill.
Thus sat my Muse hath sung in divers strains,
Where thou maist find fit place to set thy trains.
My next endeavour is to lay the ground,
To atchieve and win the Mistriss thou hast found.
Be prompt and apt, you that shall read my lines,
And use attention to their disciplines.
The first strict Precept I enjoin your sence,
Needful to be observ'd is conscience:
Be confident, thy suit being once begun,
And build on this, they all are to be wonne.
First shall the birds that welcome in the spring,
All muse and dumb, for ever cease to sing.
The summer Ants leave their industrious pains,
And from their full mouthes cast their loaded gains,
The swift Menatian hounds that chasing are
Shall frighted run back from the trembling hare
Before a wanton wench once tempted by thee,
Poor fool, shall have the hard heart to deny thee.
Stoln pleasure, which to men is never hateful,
To women, is now and at all times ever grateful:
The difference is, a Maid her love will cover,
Men are more impudent and publick lovers:
Tis mee: we men should ask the question still,
Should women do it, it would become them ill.
The Heifers strength being once ripe and mellow,
After the Bull she through the field will bellow.
The Maite neighs after the couragious breed,
But humane lust doth not so much exceed.
Our dame hath lawful bonds, keep time and season
Nor bestial made like theirs, but mixt with reason.
Should I of Biblis speak, whose hot desire
Doth to the Brothers lawless bed aspire:
And when the incestuous deed she well suspendeth,
With resolution her sweet life she endeth.
Mirrha the love of her own father sought,
Affecting him, but not as daughters ought
Her body in a tree tough rinde appears;
And with her sweet and odoriferous tears,
Our bodies we perfume, these are the same,
Mirrh of their Mistriss, Mirrha that bears the name,
In Ida of tall trees and Cedars full,
There fed the glory of the heard, a Bull,
Snow whi e, save 'twixt his horns one spot there grew,
Save that one stain he was of milky hew,
This Bullock did the Heifers of the groves,
Desire to bear as Prince of all their droves,
But most Pasiphas with adulterous breath,
Envies the lovely Heisers to the death.
I speak known truth this cannot Creet deny,
With all her hundred Cities built on high.
Tis said that for this Bull the doating Lasse,
Did use to top fresh boughs and mow young grasse.
Nor was the amorous Cretan Queen afeard,
To grow a kinde companion to the herd.
Thus through the campaigne she is madly born,
And a wild Bull to Minos gives the horn.
Tis not for bravery he doth love or loath thee,
Then when Pasiphae, dost thou so richly cloath thee?
Why do'st thou thus thy face and looks prepare?
What mak'st thou with thy glasse ordering thy hair?
Unlesse thy glasse could make thee seem a Cow.
And how can horns grow on that tender brow?
If Minos please thee, no adulterer seek thee,
Or if thy husband A [...]nes do not like thee.
But thy lascivious thoughts are still encreast,
Deceive him with a man, not vvith a beast
Thus by the Queen the wild woods are frequented,
And leaving the Kings bed she is contented
To use the groves, born by the rage of mind,
Even as a ship with a full Eastern wind.
How often hath she with an envious eye
Lookt on the Cow that by her Bull did lie,
Saying, oh vvherefore did this Heifer move
My hearts chief Lord, and urge him to her love.
Behold, hovv she before him joyful sk [...]ps,
And proudly jetting on the green grass lips
To please his amorous eye: then charg'd the Queen,
See in these fields that Covv no more be seen.
No sooner to her servants had she spoke.
But the poor beast vvas straight put to the yoke.
Some of these strumpet Heifers the Queen slevv,
And their vvarm bloud the Altars did imbrue;
Whilst by the sacrificing Priest she stands,
And gripe their trembling entrails in her hands;
Oft pray'd she to the gods, but all in vain,
To appease their deities with bloud of beasts thus slain,
And to their bowels spake, go, go, be gon
To please him whom I fondly dote upon,
Now doth she wish her self Europa then,
To be fair so pasturing in the Fen.
Io a beast in shape, hide, hoof, and horn;
Onely Europa on a beast was born.
At length the Captain of the herd beguil d
With a Cows skin with curious art compil'd
The longing Queen obtain'd her full desire,
And in the childs birth did bewray the fire.
Had Cressa kept her from Thyestes bed.
She had not with her child been banished;
Nor Phoebus stop his Car that so bright burned.
And his Steeds back unto the morning turned.
King Nisas daughter that was held so fair.
Stole from her Fathers head the purple hair:
And hanging at the ship, in her fall
Chang'd to a bird in voice, in shape and all.
Another S ylla was by Circe's spells
Made a Sea monster, and in the Ocean dwells:
Beneath whose navel barketh many a hound,
Whose ravenous gulf like throats, Ship and men drown'd.
The wisest of great Al [...]rdes that by land
Fled the great god of war, and did withstand
Neptune by Sea, behold alas she dies
A woful and lamented Sacrifice:
Whose sorrows onely not bright Crusa's flame,
Wishing their salt tears might have quencht the same,
Who could but weep to see young children slain,
Whilst their warm blouds their mothers garments stain.
Thanux, Anutor's daughter she laments
The swift pact burrying chariot tears and rents.
Chief mischief all by womens lust engender;
Some of their hearts be tough, though most be tender,
Womens desires are burning, some contagious,
Mens are more temperate far, and less outragious:
Then in my Art proceed nor doubt to enjoy
And win all women be they ne're so coy.
Use them by my directions, being learn'd by thee.
Not one amongst a thousand will deny thee
Yet love they to be urg'd by some constraint,
As well in things which they deny as grant:
But take thou no repulse; is't not a treasure
To enjoy new delights and taste fresh pleasure?
Variety of sweets are welcome still,
And acceptablest to a womans will:
They think that corn best in anothers field,
Their neighbours goat the sweetest milk doth yield.
But first ere siege be to thy Mistriss laid,
Practise to come acquainted with her Maid:
She can prepare the way, seek thy redress,
And by her means thou maist have sweet access.
To her familiar ear your counsels show,
And all your private pleasures let her know:
Bribe her with gifts, corrupt her with reward,
With her thats easie which to thee seems hard:
She can chuse times, so times Physitians keep,
When in thy Mistriss arms thou safe maist sleep,
And that must be when she is apt to yield,
VVhat time the ripe corn swells within the field,
VVhen banisht sorrows, from her heart remove,
And gives mirth place, she [...]ies broad wake to love.
VVhil'st Troy was pensive, 'twas well fenc'd and kept,
But then betraid when they securely slept.
Yet somtimes prove her, when thou find'st her sad,
Mourning her own wrong with some usage bad.
Follow that humour with thy fluent tongue,
Shee'l grace: hee to revenge her former wrong,
Her may the industious made prepare.
And softly whisper, yet that she may bear,
Such wrongs no woman that hath spirit can bear:
So she proceeds to thee, lifts thy praises high,
Swear for her chaste love thou art bent to die,
And there step in, and doubt not to prevail,
Yet ere her furious anger hath stroke sail,
Rage in that Sea: delay consumes and dies,
Like ice against the Sun; no grace despise
That from the hand-maid comes; with all thy power
Seek by convenient means her to deflower.
She is industrious and made apt for sport,
And by her office limits your resort.
She, if her counsel may be closely kept,
Her Ladies due would gladly intercept.
All is hap hazard, though it be with pain.
My counsel is from these things to abstain.
I will not headlong over mountains tread.
Not following me shall any be missed?
But of the maid by whom thou send'st thy Letter,
VVith her care please thee well, with her face better
Begin not therefore with the maid to toy,
Thy Mistriss love and favour first enjoy.
One thing beware, if thou wilt credit Art,
Nor let my words amongst the winds depart:
If thou hast mov'd her once take no denial,
Resolve to act, or never to make trial,
Faom fear and blame thou art secure and free.
As soon as she partakes the crime with thee.
You see the bird that to the morning sings,
Cannot soare high when she hath lim'd her wings;
Nor can the savage Boar with gristed back,
Break through those toils, which he before made slack
The fish that glides alo [...]g the silver brook,
Is quickly drawn. [...]eing wounded with the book,
So having once but tride her, make her yield,
And never part, but conquer from [...]he field:
The fault being mutual, knowing how she fell,
The bashful girle will be ashamed to tell.
But she can shew thee in fami [...]ar phrase,
Both what thy vertuous Mistriss doth and says.
Alwaies be secret if your guilt appear,
'Twill in thy Lady breed perpetual fear.
He is deceiv'd that thinks all times availe
For Swains to turn the earth Seamen to saile:
All seasons are not kinde when men should sow,
Times must be pickt, to have your grain well grow.
Nor alwaies is the surging Ocean fit,
That the well fraughted ship may sail in it:
Nor is it alwaies time fair Girles to woo;
Sometimes abstain, so doth thy Master do.
Omit her birth day, and those Kalends misse,
When Mar [...] and Venus both abstain to kisse:
At some forbidden seasons being deckt
With princely 'tire, use her with great respect.
In the bream winter when that Phad [...]s rain,
From the sweet work of Venus most abstain:
Forbear the like resort among thy wenches,
When that the tender Kid the Ocean drenches.
Thou shalt begin even in that very day,
When woful and lamenting Alila
Looks on the tragick earth made crimson red
With the wild Romans wounds which that day bled,
Or in the seventh feast which is held divine,
And honoured by the men of Palestine.
Thy Ladies birth-day Ceremonies make,
And superstitiously all works forsake;
Above all days let that a black day be,
When thou giv'st ought, or she doth beg of thee.
You shall have some into your bosoms creep.
Who jestingly will snatch things they will keep,
And by some slight and wanton s [...]it.
To enrich themselves will leave thee destitute.
First shall the Linnen Draper bring his wares.
And lay his pack wide open at the Fairs
She will peruse them as thou stand'st her nigh,
The whil'st the Draper asks what will you buy?
Strait will she crave thy judgement in the Lawn
Thou by degrees to shew thy skill art drawn:
Then will she kiss thee, pray thee she may try it,
Thus by her flattery thou art won to buy it.
Canst thou deny the wanton she will swear,
This gift will serve her use for many a year:
It is now cheap, she hath great need of this;
And every word she mingles with a kiss.
Hast thou no coyn about thee thou shalt send,
To intreat it by a Letter from thy friend.
What? must I needs present her with this casket,
Because that on her birth-day she doth ask it?
Then every day she wants she will be sworn,
That as that very day she's bred and born.
Or when I see her bow she sadly weeps,
And faining some false loss much seeking keeps,
As if she had let fall some precious thing.
A jewel from her ear, her hand a ring.
Whats that to me, or if I here her pray
To borrow this or that until some day.
Whats lent is lost and to be found no more:
Women things borrowed never will restore.
Ten tong [...]es, as many mouthes cannot impart
Half the sleights used in the Str [...]mpets art.
D [...]ta d [...]na f [...]ut dat mella genist [...].
Make ove with Lett [...]rs and thy money save,
And let them wax, and ink, and paper have;
Keep what thou hast, for words good words surrender.
For flattery like falshood ever tender.
Fair words are cheap, what more thou giv'st is lost,
Flatter, speak fair, 'tis dene wi [...]h little cost.
Old Triam by intreaty Hect [...]r won,
Which brib'd Achilles neve [...] would have done;
Force is but weak, intreat [...] hath her odds;
So we intreat, but not enforce the gods.
A promise is a charm to make fools fa [...].
Be full of them, promise no matter what.
A promise is a meet inchanting witch,
By promises 'tis an easie matter to be rich.
The hope of gain will keep thy credit free,
Hope is a goddesse false yet true to thee.
Give her and say, you part on some disdain.
Thou by her looseth, she by thee shall gain.
Be always giving, but your gift still keep,
And thy delays in words well harmed s [...]eep:
So hath the barren field deceiv'd the swain;
So doth the Gamester lose in hope to gain.
Love that on even hands grows is most pure.
That which comes gratis longest doth endure.
Write first, and let thy pleasant lines salute her.
A Letter breaks the ice of any Suitor:
A Letter in an apple writ and sent.
Won fair C [...]dippe to her lovers bent.
You Roman Youths all other toys resign.
Leave the seven Liberal Arts and Muses nine.
As when you hear an Orator declaime,
The people judge, and Senate grace the same.
So when the fair maids thou shalt come among.
Speak well, and they will all applaud thy tongue,
But speak not by the book, it breeds offence,
To court in strange and fustian eloquence:
None but a gull such Bastard words will praise,
Or in his speech use an inforced phrase.
Who but a mad man else with Orations,
Plead to his love and woo in declamations
Use a smooth language, and accustomed speech,
And with no straining discourse love beseech,
As if thou cam'st to speak a studdied part,
But as immediately sent from the heart.
If the receive thy lines, and scoras to r [...]ad them.
But casting them away, on the ground tre [...]d them:
Despaire not though, but that she may in time,
And will with judging eyes peruse thy rime,
In time the stubborn Heifers draw the wain,
In time the wildest steeds do brook the ra [...]n.
Time frets hard iron, in time the pl [...]w shares worn
Yet the ground soft by which the steele is torn.
Whats harder then a stone, or what more soft
Then water is, and yet by dropping oft
The gentle rain will eat into the flints.
And in their hard sides leaves impressive di [...]ts,
Do but persist the suit thou hast begun.
In time will chaste Penelop [...] be won:
Long was it ere the City Troy was tane:
Yet was it burnt at length and Priam slain.
Hath she perus'd the scroul thou didst indite,
And will she not as yet an answer write:
Enforce her not, it is enough to th [...]e,
That she hath read it, and thy love doth see.
Fear not, if once she r [...]ad what thou hast writ,
She will vouchsafe in time to answer it.
At first perhaps her Letter will bee sower.
And on thy hopes her paper seem to lowre,
In which she will conjure thee to be mure,
And charge thee to forbear thy hated suit;
Tush, what she most forwarns she most desires,
In frosty woods are hid the hottest fires.
Onely pursue to reap what thou hast sown,
A million to a mite she is thy own.
If thou by chance hast found her in some place,
Down on her back and upwards with her face.
Occasion smiles upon thee, thank thy fate,
S [...]al to her besides with a thievish gate;
And having won unto her wisely bear thee,
With watchful care that no eavs-dropper bear thee.
When thou meetest her a­broad.
Or if she walk abroad without delay,
Be thou a quick spie to observe her way.
Keep in her eye, and cross her in the street,
Here overtake her, at that corner meet;
Then come behind her, then out-strip her pace,
And now before her, and now after trace;
Now fast, now slow, and ever move some stay,
That she may find thee still first in her way;
Nor be afraid if thou occasion spy.
To jog her elbow as thou passest by:
Or if thou happenest to behold from far,
When thou find [...]st her in the Thea­ter.
Thy Mistriss crossing to the Theater;
H [...]e to the place, being there look round about thee,
And in no seat let her be found without thee:
No matter though the Play thou do not mind,
Thou sights enough within her face shalt find;
There stand at gaze, there wonder, there admire,
There speaking locks may whisper thy desire.
Applaud him whom she likes, if thou discover
In any strain a true well-acted Lover:
Make him thy instance, court her by all skill;
If she rise, rise, if she sit, sit thee still:
Laugh thou but when she smiles, die when she lowres,
And in her looks and gestures loose thy hours.
Thy legs with eating pumice do not wear,
Use not hot irons to crisp and curl thy hair;
No spruce starcht fashions should on Lovers wait.
Men best become a meer neglected gate.
Blunt Theseus came with no perfumes to Crete,
And yet great Minos daughter thought him sweet;
Phoedra did love Hyppolitus, yet he
Had on his back no courtly bravery.
Adonis like a wood-man still was clad,
Yet Venus doated on the lovely lad.
Go neat and handsome: comeliness best pleases,
And the desire of women soonest ceases.
Ʋse a meet gate, thy garments without stain,
Keep not thy face from weather not from rain,
Thy tongue have without roughness, thy teeth clear
And white, and let no rust inhabit there.
Were thy shoes close and fit, and not too wide;
Cut thy hair compass, even on either side:
Let no disordred hairs here and there stand▪
But have thy Beard trimm'd with a skilful hand:
Make blunt thy nails, pare them and keep them low.
Let no stiff hairs wi [...]hin thy nostrils grow:
Keep thy breath sweet and fresh, lest ranck it smell,
Such is the air where bearded Goats do dwell.
All other loose tricks and effeminate [...]oys,
Leave thou to want on Girles and jugling Boys.
Behold young Bacchus me his Poet names.
He favours Lovers and those amorous fl [...]mes
In which he hath been scorcht;
The [...]le of Theseus and Ari­adne.
it so fell out,
Mad Ariadus straid the Isle about;
Being left alone within that desert plain,
Weere the brook Dia pores into the main,
Who making from her rest, her vail unbound,
Her bare foot treading on the tender ground,
Her golden hair dissolved; aloud the raves,
Calling on Theseus to the diffused waves,
On Theseus, cruel Theseus, whom she seeks,
Whil [...]st showers of tears, makes furrows in her cheeks;
She calls and weeps, and weeps and calls at once,
Which might to ruth move the senceless stones.
Yet both alike became her, they grac'd her,
The whilst she strives to call him, or cry faster.
Then beats she her sofr breast, and makes it groan,
And then she cries, what? is false Theseus gon?
What shall I do? she cries, what shall I do?
And with that note she runs the Forrest through.
When suddenly her eares might understand,
Cymbals and Timbrels toucht with a loud hand:
To which the forrest, woods and caves resound,
And now amaz's she senceless falls to ground.
Behold the Nymphes come with their scattered hair
Falling behinde, which they like garments wear,
And the light Satyres, and untoward crew,
Nearer and nearer to the Virgin drew.
Then old St [...]enus with his lazy asse.
Nods with his drunken pa [...]e about to passe.
Where the poor Lady all in tears lies drown'd.
Scarce sits the drunkard but he falls to ground,
Scarce holds the bridle fast, but staggering stoops,
Following tho [...]e giddy Bacchanalian troops;
Who dance the wild Lavalto on the grasse,
Whilst with a staff he lays upon his asse
At length when the young Satyrs least suspect,
He tumbling falls quite from his asses neck,
But up they heave him, whilst each Satyre cries,
Rise good old Father, good old Father rise.
Now comes the god himself, next after him,
His vine like Chariot driven with Tygres grimme.
Colour and voice, and Theseus she doth la [...].
There would she fly, and there fear pull'd her back.
She trembles like a sta [...]k the wind doth shake,
Or a weak reed that grows beside the lake.
To whom the g [...]d [...] spake, Lady take good chear.
See one more faithful then false Theseus here.
Thou shalt be wife [...]o Bacchus for a g [...]ft,
Receive high heaven, and to he sph [...]res b [...]l [...]ft,
Where thou shalt shine a star, to g [...]d [...] by night
The wandring Seaman in his cour [...]e [...]ght.
This said, least that his Tygres should astray,
The trembling maid, the god his Coach doth stay.
And leaping from h [...]s Char [...]ot with his heels.
He prints the sand, with that the N [...]ph he feels;
And hugging her, in vain she doth [...]s [...]t.
He bears her thence, gods can do what they list.
Some Hymen sing, and Io cry,
So Bac [...]hus with th [...] [...]aid that night doth lie.
Therefore when wine in plenteous [...] do flow,
And thou that night unto thy love doth owe,
Pray to the god of grapes that in thy be [...],
The quaffing healths do not offend thy head.
In wine much hidden talk thou maist invent,
Love tricke used in eating and drink­ing.
To give thy Lady note of thy intent.
To tell her thou art hers, and she is thine,
Thus even at board make love tricks in the wine.
Nay, I can teach thee though thy tongue be mute,
How with thy speaking eye to move thy suit:
Good language may be made in looks and winks,
Be first that takes the cup wherein she drinks.
And note the very place her lip did touch,
Drink just at that, let thy regard be such.
Or when she carves, what part of all the meat
She with her finger touch that out and eat:
Or if thou carve to her, or she to thee,
Her hand in taking it touch cunningly.
Be with her friend familiar, and be sure,
It much avails to make thy love endure.
When thou drink'st drink to him above the rest,
Grace him, and make thy self a thankful guest.
In every thing prefer him to his face,
Though in his function he be ne're so base.
The course is s [...]fe and doth secureness lend,
For who suspecless may not greet his friend.
Yet though the path thou tread'st seem straight and plain,
In some things it is full of rubs again.
Drink spatingly, for my impose is such,
And in your singling him take not too much.
Carrouse not but with soft and moderate sups,
Car­rouse not to much.
Have a regard and measure in your cups.
Let both the feet and thoughts their office know,
Chiefty beware of brawling, which may grow
By too much wine, from fighting most abstain,
In such a quarrel was Eurition slain.
Where swaggering leads the way mischief comes after,
Junkets and wine were made for mirth and laughter.
Sing if thy voice be delicate and sweet,
Sing. Dance.
If thou canst dance them nimbly shake thy feet
If thou hast in thee ought that [...]s more t [...]en common,
Shew it; such gifts as these most please a woman▪
Though to be drunk inde [...] may hurt the brain,
Yet now and then I hold it good to fain.
Instruct thy lisping tongue sometimes to tri [...],
That if a word misplac'd do pass thy lip:
At which the carping presence find some clause,
It may be judg'd that quaffing was the cause.
Then boldly say, how happy were that man,
That could enfold thee in his armes, and then
Wish to embrace her in her sweet-hearts stead,
Whom in her eare thou ravest to see dead.
But when the Tables drawn, and she among
The full crew rising, thrust into the throng,
And touch her softly as she forth doth go,
And with thy foot tread gently on her toe.
Now is the time to speak, be not afraid,
Him that is bold both love and fortune aid.
Doubt now thy want of Rhetorick true love show,
Good words unwares upon thy tongue will flow,
Make as thy tongue could wound thy soul with grief,
And use what art thou canst to win relief.
All women of themselves self loved are,
The foulest in their own conceits are fair:
Praise them they will believe, thee I have known
A meer dissembler a true lover grown.
Troving in earnest what he fain'd in sport,
Then, oh you Maids, use Men in gentle sort.
Be affable, and kind, and scorn eschew,
Love forg [...]d at first may at the last prove true.
Let fair words work into their hearts as brooks,
Into a hollow band that overlooks
The margent of the water▪ praise her cheek,
The colour of her hair commend and like,
Her slender finger, and her pretty foot,
Her body, and each part that 'longs unto't.
And women as you hope my stile shall raise you,
I charge you to believe men when they praise you;
For praises please the chastest maids delight,
To hear their Lovers in their praise to write.
June and Pallas hate the Phrygian soil,
VVhore Paris to their beauties gave the foil.
Even yet they envy V [...]us and still dare her,
To come to a new judgement which is fairer.
The Peacock being praised spreads his train,
Be silent and he hides his wealth again.
Horses trapt richly praise them in their race,
They will survet and proudly mend their pace.
Large promises in love I much allow,
Nay call h [...]gods as witnes [...] to thy vow:
For Jove himself sits in the azure [...]kies,
And laught below at lovers perjuries.
Commanding Eolus to disperse them quite,
Even Jove himself hath falsly sworn some write,
By Sux to June, and since then doth show,
Favours to us that falsly swear below.
Gods surely be gods, we must think they are,
To them burn incense and due rights prepate;
Nor do they sleep, as many think they do,
Lead harmless lives, pay debts and forfeits too;
Keep covenant with thy friend and banish fraud,
Kill no [...], and such a man the gods appland.
Say women none deceive, the gods have spoken,
There is no pain impos [...]d on faith so broken.
Deceive the sly deceiver,
[...] [...] ­tem on [...] [...]us
they find snares,
To catch poor harmlesse Lovers unawares.
Lay the [...]ke trains for them; nine year some fain
In Egypt there did fall no drop of rain,
Busi [...]is [...] Thra [...] ­ [...] be­cause he was a stranger
When Thratius to the grimme Busiris goes,
And from the Oracle this answer showes,
That Jove must be appeas'd with strangers bloud,
They said Busiris k [...]ll d [...]im where he stood:
And said withall thou stranger first art slain,
To appease the god and bring great Egypt rain
Phallaris Bull, King Phallaris first said;
VVith the work master that the Engine made:
Both Kings were just, dea [...]h deaths inventer try.
And justly in their own inventions die.
So should false oathes▪ by [...]ig [...] false oathes beguile
And a deceitful gi [...]le be caught by wile:
Then [...]each [...]hy e [...]es to weep,
We [...]p to her.
tears perswade truth
An [...] move [...] obd [...]rate Adamant to ruth.
A [...] [...] sp [...]cial times that [...]ssing by.
[...]he may perceive a [...]at stand in thy eye.
Or if tears fail, as still thou canst not get them.
With thy moist finger rub thy eyes and wet them.
Who but a foole that cannot judge of blisses,
But when he speaks will with his words mixe kisses,
Say she be coy and will give none at all,
Take them ungiven, perhaps at first she'll brawl.
Strive and resist her all the waies she can,
And say withall away you naughty man.
Yet will she fight like one would lose the field.
And striving gladly be constrain'd to yield.
[...]e not so boi [...]erous, do not speak too high,
Lest by rude hurting of her lips she cry.
He that gets kisses with his pleading tongue,
And gets not all things that to love belong,
I count him for a Meacock and a sot,
Worthy to lose the kisses that he got.
What more then kissing wanted of the game,
Was thy meer dastardy, not bashful shame.
They term it force, such force comes welcome still,
What pleaseth them they grant against their will.
Thoebe the fair was forc'd, to was her sister,
Yet Phoebe in her heart thankt him that kist her.
There is a tale well known how Hecubs son,
To steal fair Hellen through the stream did run,
Venus who by his censure won in Ide,
Gave to him in requital this fair bride:
Now for another world doth sail with joy,
A welcome daughter to the King of Troy
The whilst the Grecians are already come,
Mov'd with this publick wrong against Tiu [...]m:
Achilles in a smoke his Sex doth smother,
And lays the blame upon his careful mother.
What makes thou, great Achilles, to zing wool,
When Pallas in a caske should hide thy sk [...]l,
What doth that palm with webs and [...]h [...]reds of gold,
Which are more sit a warlike sh [...]eld to hold?
Why should that right hand rock and twig contain,
By which the Troyan Hell [...]r must be sla [...]?
Ca [...] of those loose vails and [...]hy a mo [...]ta [...]e.
And in thy hand [...]he spear of Pe [...]a [...] [...]ake.
Thus Lady like he with a Lady lay,
Tall what he was her belly did bewray:
Yet was she forc [...]t; so ought we to believe,
Not to be so inforc't how would she grieve,
When he should rise from her, still would she cry,
(For he had arm'd him, and his Rock laid by)
And with a soft voice spake, Achilles stay,
It is too soon to rise, lie down I pray.
And then the man that forc'd her she would kisse,
What force Deidemia call you this?
There is a kind of fear in the first proffer,
But having once begun she takes the offer.
Trust not too much young man to thy fair face,
Nor look a woman should intreat thy grace:
First let a man with sweet words smoo [...]h his way,
Be f [...]rward in her car to sue and pray.
If thou wilt reap fruits of thy loves effects,
Onely begin, 'tis all that she expects.
So in the ancient time Olimpian Jove,
Made to Heroes suit, and won their love.
But if thy words breed scorn, a while forbear,
For many what most flies them hold most dear:
And what they may have proffer'd flie and shun,
By soft retreat great vantage may be won.
In person of a woer come not still,
B [...]t sometimes as a friend in meer good will:
Thou ca [...]st her friend, but shalt return her Love.
A white soft hew my ju [...]gement doth disprove;
Give me a face whose colour knows no art,
Which the green Sea hath tann'd, the Sun made swa [...]
Beauty is meer uncomely in a Clown,
That under the hot Planets plough the ground.
And thou that Pallas garland wouldst redeem,
To have a white face it would ill beseem.
Let him that loves look pale, for I protest,
That colour in a Lover still shews best,
Orion wandring in the woods lookt sickly,
Da [...]re being once in love lost colour quickly.
Th [...] [...]anness argues love, seem sparely fed.
And somtimes wear a night cap on thy head,
For griefs and cares that in afflictions show,
Weaken a Lovers. spirits and bring him low.
Look miserably poor it much behoves,
That all that see you, may say, you man loves.
Shall I proceed or stay, move or disswade?
Friendship and faith of no account are made.
Love mingles right with wrong▪ friendship despises,
And the world faith holds vain, and slightly prises.
Thy Ladies beauty do not thou commend,
To thy companion or thy trusty friend:
Least of thy praise enamoured it may breed.
Like love in them with passions that exceed.
Yet was the Nuptial bed of great Achilles
Unstain'd by his dear friend Actorides:
The wife of Theseus though she went astray,
Was chaste as much as in Piturious lay.
Phaeb [...]s and Pallas Hermenius, Th [...]llades:
And the two tw [...]ns we call Tertarides,
Tend to the like, but he that in these days.
For the like trust acquires the self same praise.
He may as well from weeds seek sweet rose buds,
Apples of thorn trees, hony from the flouds.
Nothing is practis'd now but what is ill,
Pleasure is each mans God, faith they excell:
And that stoln pleasure is respected chief.
Which fall to one man by anothers grief.
O mischief you young lovers, fear not those,
That are your open and professed foer,
Suspect thy friend▪ though else in all things just,
Yet in thy love he will deceive thy trust.
Friends breed tine fears in love, the presence hate
Of thy near kinsman, brother, and sworn mate.
I was about to end, but so I see,
How many humorous thoughts in women be,
But thou that [...]n my Art thy name wil [...] rais [...],
A thousand humours woe a thousand ways:
One plot of ground all f [...]les cannot bring,
This is for vi [...]s, here co [...]n the [...]ves [...]pring.
More then be [...].
Have womens [...] f [...]asies.
He that is apt will in himself devise,
Ionnmerable shapes of fit disguise,
To shift and change like Proteus whom we see,
A Lion first, a Bore, and then a tree.
Some fishes by a dare are strangely took,
These by a net, and others by a book.
All ages not alike intrapped are,
The crooked old wife sees the train from far.
Appear not learned unto one that's rude,
Nor loose to one with chastity indu'd:
Should you do so, alas the pretty elves,
Would in the want of Art distrust themselves.
Hence comes it, their best fortunes some refuse,
And the base Bed of an inferiour chuse.
Part of my toyls remains, and part is past,
Here doth my shaken ship her anthor cast;
FINIS.

The second Book

SIng Io Poean, twice, twice Io say,
My toyl [...] are pitcht, and I have caught my prey.
[...]e the glad Lover crown my head with bays,
And before old blind Homer Ovid praise,
So did King Priams son exulting skip,
With the fair ravish'd Hellen in his ship:
So did he sing that in his chariot run,
And victor like the bright Allant [...] won.
Whether away young man thy bark is lost.
Yet in the mid-sea far from any coast,
'Tis nor enough to thee by my new Art,
To find a Lady that commands thy heart.
The reach of my invention is much deeper,
By art thou shalt her win, by art shalt keep her.
As difficult it is by art to blind her
To thy desires, as at the first to find her.
In this consists the substance of my skill,
Cupid and Venus both assist me still.
And gracious Erato my stile prepare,
Thou art the Muse that hast of Lovers care.
I promise wondrous things, I will explain,
How fickle thoughts in love may firm remain,
And how the wag in fetters may be hurl'd,
That strays and wanders round about the world:
Yet is love light and hath two wings to fly;
Tis hard to outstrive him mounting the skie.
What Minos to his guest always denied,
A desperate passage through the air he tried:
As Dedalus the Labyrinth hath bui't,
In which to shut the Queen Pasiphaes guilt.
Kneeling he says, just Minos end my mones,
And let my native countrey shroud my bone [...].
Grant me, great king what yet the fares deny,
And where I have not liv'd, oh [...] let me die:
Or if, dread Soveraign. I deserve no grace.
Look with a pi [...]cious eye on my childs face.
And grant him leave from whence we are exil'd,
Or pity me, if you deny my childe,
This and much more she says, but all in vain,
Both son and sire still doth the king detain.
Which he perceiving said, now, now 'tis fit,
To give the world cause to admire thy wi [...].
The Land and Sea are watcht by day and night,
Nor Land nor Sea lies open to our flight:
Onely the air remains, then let us try,
To cut a passage through the air and flye.
Jove be auspicious to my enterprise,
I covet not to mount above the skier,
But make this refuge since I can prepare,
No means to flye, my Lord, but through the air:
Make me immortal, bring me to the brim,
Of the black Stigian waters, Stye I [...]le swim.
Oh humane wit thou canst invent much ill,
Thou searchest strange arts who would think by skill.
A heavy man like a light bird should stray,
And through the empty heavens finde a fit way.
He placeth in just order all his quilis,
Whose bottoms with resolved wax he fills.
Then binds them with a line, and being fast tide,
He placeth them like oares on either side.
The little lad, the downy feathers blew,
And what his father wrought he nothing knew.
The wax he softned with the strings he plaid,
Not thinking for his shoulders they were made:
To whom his father spake, and then lookt pale,
With these swift ships we to our land must sail.
All passage now doth cruel Minos stop,
Onely the empty aire he still leaves ope:
That way must we, the land and the rough deep,
Doth Minos bar the aire, he cannot keep,
But in the way, beware thou set no eye,
On the the sign Virgo nor Boores high.
Look not the black Orion in the face,
That bears a sword, but just with me keep place.
Thy w [...]ngs are now in fastning, follow me,
I will before thee flye, as thou shalt see.
Thy father mount or stoop, so I arreed thee.
Take me thy guide, and safely I wil lead thee.
If we should soar too neear great Thaebus feat,
The melting wax will not endure the heat.
Or if we flye too near the humid seas.
Our moistned wings we shall not shake with ease.
Fly between both, and with the gusts that ri [...]e,
Let thy light body sail amidst the skies.
And ever as his little son he charms,
He fits the feathers to his tender armes,
And shews him how to move his body light,
As birds do teach the little young ones flight,
By this he calls a council of of his wits,
And his own wings unto his shoulders fits.
Being about to rise he fearful quakes,
And in his new way his faint body shakes:
But ere be took his flight he kist his son,
Whilst flouds of tears down by his cheeks did run.
There was a hillock not so high and tall
As lofty mountains be, nor yet so small
To be with valleys even, and yet a hill,
From this they both attempt their uncouth skill:
The father moves his wings, and with respect,
His eyes upon his wandring son reflect.
They bear a spacious course, and the apt boy,
Fearlesse of harms in his new tract doth joy.
And flies more boldly, now upon them looks
The fishermen that angle in the brooks;
And with their eyes cast upwards frighted stand,
By this is Samos Isle on their left hand:
With Maxos, Paros, Delphos, and the rest.
Fearlesse they take the course that likes them best.
Upon the right hand Eurithes they forsake,
Now Asipelea with thy fishy lake.
Shady Paechinne full of woods and groves,
When the rash boy too bold in ventring roves.
Looses his guide, and takes his flight so high,
That the soft wax against the Sun do [...]h fry.
And the cords that made the feathers fast,
So that his armes have power upon no blast:
He fearfully from the h [...]gh clouds looks down.
Upon the lew [...]r heavens whose cur [...]'d waves f [...]wn
At his ambitious height, and f [...]om the skies,
He sees black [...] and death before his eyes?
No [...] [...]e [...]ts the wax his [...]ked arm [...] he sh [...]kes,
And se [...]king to catch [...]old [...]o hold h [...] tak [...]s.
But now the [...]ak [...]d [...] down headlong fa [...]ls,
And by the way he f [...]her, fa [...]her cal [...]s?
Help, father, he [...] help he cries, and as he speaks
A vio [...]ent w [...]v [...] his course of angu [...]e bre [...]ks.
The unhappy father, but no father now,
[...] [...]l [...]ud, son Icarus where [...]t thou?
Where [...]r [...] thou Icarus? where dost thou flye?
Icarus w [...]e [...]e ar [...]? when st [...]igh [...] he doth espy
The feathers swim, thus loud [...]e doth exclaime,
The Earth h [...]s bones, the Sea still keeps his name.
Mino [...] could not restrain a man from flight,
But winged Cupid be he ne're so light.
He gulls himself that seek [...] to w [...]t [...]hes craf [...],
Or with a young col [...]s forehead make a cr [...]ft.
No power in wise Medeus potions dwells.
Nor drowned poysons mixt with magi [...]k spells.
The power of love is not inforc'd by these;
For were it so, then had Ersonides
Been staid by Phasius, and Ʋlisse kept,
VVho stole from Circe while the inchantresse slept.
These charmed drugs moves madness, hurts the brain,
To gain pure love, pure love return again.
Mischievous thoughts eschew to purchase grace,
Manners prevails more then a beautiou [...] face.
And yet the N [...]mphs the love of Nilus seek.
And H [...]mer do [...]ts on Nieureus the fair▪ Greek;
But trust not thou the beauty to keep kinde,
Thy Mistriss seeks the beauty of thy minde,
All outward beauty fades as years encrease,
Even so it wears away and waxeth lesse.
Beauty in her own course is overtaken,
The violet now fresh is straight forsaken,
Nor always do the Lillies of the field,
The glorious beauties of their object yield.
The fragrant rose once pluck [...] the b [...]e [...]y thorn,
Sh [...]ws rough and naked, on which the rose was born.
Oh [...]hou most fa [...]r [...]w [...]e hairs come on ap [...]ce,
And w [...]inkled farrows which will [...]low [...]hy face.
Instruct thy soul, they have thoughts perfect made,
These beauties last till death▪ all others f [...]de.
To l [...]beral arts thy careful hours apply.
Learn many tongues with their true Euphony.
Ʋ [...]sses was not fair but e [...]oquent,
Yet to his Love the Sea Nymphs did consent.
How often did the witch his stay implore,
Making he Seas unfit for sail o [...] [...]are▪
She praid him oft, because he spake so well,
Ov [...]r and over Troys sad f [...]te to tell,
VVilst he with pithy words and fluent phrase,
Re [...]tes the self same story divers ways.
Calispe as they on the Sea bank stood.
Cast [...]ng their eyes upon the neighbouring fl [...]o [...],
Desires the fall and bloudy acts to hear,
VVrought by the Ordrision Capta [...]ns sword and spear.
Then holding 'twixt his fingers a white wand,
VVhat she requests he draws upon the sand.
Here's Troy quoth he▪ and then the walls he paints,
Think Samots this imagine these my tents.
There was a place in which [...]lon was slain.
About the Virgil warch, when with the rain
The Hemonian Horses play, and as he speaks,
To counterfeit that place the sand he breaks,
Here Seythian Rhesus tents are pitcht on high,
This way his horsmen slain returned I.
More did he draw, when on the sudden low,
A claming wave the shore doth overflow.
And as her drops amidst his works doth fal [...],
It washt away his tent [...], his Troy and all:
To which the goddesse dares Ʋlisset try,
These sencelesse violent waves that climbe so high;
And wilt thou with these waters be annoyed,
By which so great names are so soon destroyed.
Then trust no idle shape, it will decay,
Seek inward beauty, such as last for aye.
Sweet affability will enter far
Into a womans breast when scorn breeds war.
We hate the Hawke, and loath her flesh to eat,
Because by rapine the doth get her meat.
The Wolf we hunt, and enyy all her stock,
Because the Lamb she kills, and spoils the flock:
But none the gentle Swallow lays to catch.
The Ioving stocks within our turrets hatch.
Away with quarrel [...], bitter words, rough deeds.
Love vvith kinde language and fair speeches speeds:
Strife makes the married couple often jar,
The man vvith vvise, the vvife vvith man to vvar.
Leave brauls to vvives, they are their marriage dovver.
When by appointment you shall meet in bed,
By the lavvs done, you are not thither led:
Strict statutes from such actions still vvithdravv,
Yet your abounding love supply the Lavv:
Bring love speeches to enchant the ear,
And moving vvords, such as she joys to hear.
I am not Tutor unto him that's rich,
My preceps soar not to so high a pitch.
The Lover that's endovv'd vvith gold or fee,
And comes vvith gifts, he hath no need of me.
He that at every vvord can take supply,
Hath in that every vvord more wit then I:
We yield to him, he that their laps can fill,
Teacheth an art that goes beyond my skill.
My Muse instructs poor Iovers wanting pelf,
For vvhen I lov'd I vvas but poor my self.
Still as my purse no store of crovvns affords▪
I in the stead of rich gifts give fair vvords.
Be fearful you poor Lovers to displease,
[...]e patient to endure things against your ease.
Things that the rich vvould scorn, it vvas my hap
Once as my head lay in my Mistriss lap,
To grovv inrag'd, vvhen straight I fell to beat her,
To [...]ouse her ordered locks, and ill in treat her.
But vvhat ensu'd, oh God, much grief it cost me,
Many svveet days, many svveet nights it lost me.
Whether I touch her c [...]oaths, I might deny,
She says I to [...]e them, I some nevv must buy.
You Scho [...]lars by your Masters harms bevvare,
These ills by him already proved are.
Make against the Parthians vvar, but to thy Love
Bring concord, peace, and all things that can move:
Though at the first you find her but untovvard,
Bear it, and she in time vvil prove lesse frovvard.
The c [...]ooked arm that from the tree is cut,
By gentle usage is made streight, but put,
Such violence is it as thy strength delivers,
And thou vvilt break the short vvood into shivers.
By industry thou may t or esvvim a floud,
Whose [...]aging currant else is scarce vvithstood.
By indust [...]y the Tigers gently grovv,
And the vvild Lions may be t [...]med so.
The savage Bull vvhose fierce ire [...]c [...]o [...]h provoke,
By industry is brought unto the yoke.
Arcadian, Atalanta vvas most cruel,
At length came one vvhom she esteem'd her Jevvel.
Oft vvept Hippomanes at his mi [...]h [...]p.
And her severity vvho sought to in [...]rap
Her harmlesse Lovers oft, at her fierce be [...]k,
He [...]aid betvvixt his shoulders and her neck
The toyl's for savage Beasts: and w [...]t [...] his spear,
He pierc'd such unta [...]n'd cattel as came near.
To such hard tasks I do thee not compell,
To arm thy body against Monsters fell.
In the wilde wilderness to seek out broils,
Nor on thy neck to bear the guileful toils:
My imposition is not so severe,
No such adventurers are injoined here.
This onely means all dangers will disperse:
Yield her her humour when she goes perverse.
VVhat she in conference argues, argue thou,
VVhat she approves, in selfsame words allow,
Say what she says, deny what she denies,
If she laugh, laugh, if she weep wet thine eyes.
And let her countenance be to thine a law,
To keep thy actions and thy looks in awe:
Or if thou hand to hand shalt play at dice,
At Tables or at Chesse by some device,
Let her depart a Conquerour, else 'twere sin,
VVhat gladly thou wouldst lose, that let her win.
Let thy officious band then bear her fan.
VVhen thou shalt chance her through the streets to man.
Make thy supporting arme to hers a stay,
Through throngs and presses usher her the way.
As she ascends her bed set her a staire,
By which to climbe and every thing prepare:
That she may see them done without offence;
Reach thou her pantafles or take them thence.
And standing by to watch her while she rests,
VVarm thy cold hands betwixt her panting breasts
Nor think it base. 'twill please though it be base,
To hold the glasse unto thy Mistriss face.
He that deserv'd within those heavens to tarry,
VVhich he before upon his back did carry.
Performing more then Iune could command him,
So wrong, that no fierce monster could withstand him.
Even he Alcides Ioles, Grace to win
Shapt like a woman did both card and spin.
Go thou, and in his servile place proceed,
And gain as fair a Mistriss for thy meed.
Art thou enjoin'd at such an hour to be,
In the great Forum where she waits for thee.
Hasten thy weary steps and thank thy fate.
Come there betimes, depart not thence till late:
Bids she thee go, all business lay apart,
Ru [...], till with extream heat thou melt thy heart.
Sups she abroad, and wants she one to attend her,
Back to her lodging, it will not offend her:
To wait her at the same place in the por [...]h,
And light her home directly with a torch.
Is she in the Countrey and commands thee come,
Hast thou no coach, upon thy ten toes run.
Let neither winter blast not storms of hail,
Nor the hot thirstie dog star let thee fail:
Shun neither heat not cold but see thou go,
Though every step thou tread'st knee deep in snow
Love is a kinde of war, all such depart
As bear a timorous or a slothful heart,
Nights, winters, long ways, watching grief in millions,
Torments Loves Souldiers in ther s [...]f [...] pa [...]il [...]ons.
On cold ground thou must lie, beat many a shower,
When the heavens open, and the floudg [...]tes pou [...]e.
So Phoebus when A [...]metus sheep he kept,
In a thatcht cottage on the cold floor slept,
What Phoebus did, who may it not beseem,
Better then Phoebus of himself esteem
What mortal Lover dare then sloth despise,
You that confirm'd and lasting Love devise.
If at the outw [...]d g [...]es a watch stands centry,
Or say the [...]o [...]ks, or locks deny the entry.
Haz [...]r [...] for her.
Search some strange passage, through a c [...]s [...]ment crawl,
Or by a cord down from the chimney f [...]ll.
Thee in her loving armes she streght will [...]ake,
Rejoicing thou wouldst hazard for her s [...]ke.
Every vain fear and danger thou dost prove,
Is a sure pledg [...] and token of thy love,
Of had Le [...]d [...]r without Hero slept,
To find his Love into the Sea he leapt.
Think it no shame the favour to dese [...]ve,
To use her Maid.
Of every Maid that doth thy Mistriss serve:
Salute them by their names in courteous sort,
For these are they that can prefer thy sport.
And more and more into their grace to grow,
Some trifling gifts on each of them bestow:
Especially regard her smiles or frowns,
Whose office is to brush her Mistriss gowns:
To her make means, for she is groom, porter,
Both to her bed, and such as do resort her.
Great and rich gifts I do not bid thee send her,
I mean thy love,
What gifts to send her
but knacks of value slender.
As when the orchard boughs are clog'd with fruit.
In some choice dish from thence commend thy suit.
And let the little page that bears them say.
(Though thou perhaps hast bought them by the way)
These pears, or plums, or grapes which I present you,
As his first fruits were by my Mistriss sent you.
Or be they hazel nuts, or chessenuts great,
Even such as Amarillis lov'd to eat.
Or a young Turky, these w ll shew thy heart.
These gifts send freely, lay thy gold a part.
Such presents never bring men to despair,
To untimely age, or to tormenting care.
O let them amongst others rot and perish,
That hate mens persons, and their presence cherish.
What shall I bid thee send her, meet [...]ed times?
Alas,
Send her Verses.
they find small honour in these i [...]es,
Verses they praise, but gold they most require.
If rich though barbarous, he commands desire:
This is the golden age, not that of old.
Both life and honour are now bought w [...]th gold.
Though Homer bring the Mases in the train,
Yet without gold he may retire again
Some Girles there be, but they be passing few,
Worthy to rank amongst that learned crew.
Others unlearn d there are, yet would be h [...]ld,
As if in skill, in judgement they excell'd:
Both let thy Verses praise, and in a stile
Of sweetest poesie their worths compile [...]
Perhaps thy laboured lines they may esteem.
Note.
And like a slight gift thy sweet Verses seem.
What thou intend'st to do by some fine feat,
Cause of thy Lady may of thee entreat.
Art thou by covenant ti [...]d, and must it be,
That thou of force must set thy servant free,
Contrive it so, that it she dare protest,
Thou hadst not freed him but at her request.
Art thou for any rash offence asswag'd,
So make thy peace that she may be ingag'd.
Do as thy profit leads thee and yet so,
That she for every thing thou dost may owe.
And thou that hast attain'd by passions deep;
Thy Ladies grace, and wouldst her favour keep.
Make her believe still when thou view'st her feature,
Through all the world she is the fairest creature.
If cloth of Tire she wear,
Praise her at­tire.
that habit laud,
Her Tertian vesture with thy tongue applaud.
If silk which we from rich Arabia traffick.
Swear such attire cannot be found through Affrick.
If cloth of gold she wear, rush, gold is base,
If you compare her babit to her face.
If in the cold she but a freeze gown wear,
Then her perfection makes tha [...] garment dear.
Is she compleatly drest, and rapt with joy,
Cry out aloud, my heart burns bright as Troy.
Doth she above her fore head part her hair,
That lovely seene do [...]h make her twice as fair.
Are her curl'd locks in in carless tresses dangled,
In these crisp knots thy heart must be intangled.
If she doth dance,
Her [...] [...]ng her [...].
admire her active feet.
If sing, then wonder at her voice so sweet.
But when she ceaseth, either then complain,
Intreating her to use her skill again.
Do this and wear her heart as hard as brass,
Or more obdurate then Medusaes was,
Yet she in time shall be compell'd to yield.
And thou depart a Conquerour from the field:
Onely beware of too apparent flattery,
It will destroy the siege and tedious battery.
Dissembling with Art tempered much imports,
Else from all future credit it dehorts.
In Autumn when the year is in his pride,
And the grape full with wine, red a on the side:
When the clear air keeps a divided seat,
Affording sometimes cold and sometimes heat,
Women are prone to love, healthful and quick,
But if by chance thy Lady be fain sick,
Make both thy love, zeal, faith, and all things cheap.
Then sow what with full sickle thou maist reap:
Cast all about her longing thoughts to please.
Seem not as if thou loathest her disease.
Imploy thy hand in each thing done to her,
These offices even of themselves will woe her,
Let her behold thee weep as thou stands by,
That she may drink each tear falls from thy eye.
Vow many things, but all in publick stile:
Tell her thy pleasing dreams, so make her smile.
And let the trembling nurse thought fit to watch,
Bring in her shaking hand a kindled march:
Let her peruse the bed and make it soft,
Whilst with thy hand thou turo'st and rear [...]st her oft.
These are the easie footsteps thou must tread,
Which have made way to many a wanton bed.
No such fair office can with hate be stained,
Rather by these affections is soon gained.
But minister no drugs of bitter juice,
Such let the rival temper to his use.
Now greater gusts must to my Barke give motion,
Being from the shore laucht forth into ch [...]ce [...].
Young love at first is weak and craves forbearing.
But in continuance gathers strength by wearing.
You moody [...]ull of whom thou ar [...] afraid,
Being but a calf thou with his horns ha [...] [...]d.
That tree beneath, whose branches thou dost stand
To shield thee from a storm was once a wand.
A River at the first not once a stride,
Increaseth as he runs his waters wide,
Receiving in fresh brooks in divers ranks,
Till he in pride have overflown his banks.
Ʋse to converse with her, the speeder knows,
What strength from custome and acquaintance grows,
Frequent her often,
Fre­quent her.
be seld, from her away,
Keep in her eat and eye both night and day
And yet from these sometimes thou maist desist,
'Tis good one should be asked for being mist.
Be absent from her some convenient season,
Be ab­sent from her.
And let her rest a while, it is but reason.
The field being spar'd returns us treble gain,
After great drought the earth carrouser rain.
Chi [...]lis did love Demophoon, but not doat,
Untill she saw his flying ship afloat.
Penelope her [...]nt Lo [...]d did mourn,
[...]f [...]es
So La [...]demia did [...] return
Of her dear sp [...] but be not long away;
C [...]res perish [...] n [...]w [...]ove enters by delay.
When Menelaus from his house is gone,
Po [...] Helen is afraid to lie alone:
And to allay these fears lodg'd in her breast.
I [...] her warm bosome she receives her guest.
What madness was it, Menelaus, to say
Thou art abroad, whilst in thy house doth stay,
Under the self-same roof thy Guest and Love,
Mad man, unto the Hawke to turn the Dove.
And who but such a gull would give to keep,
Unto the mountain wolf full folds of sheep.
Hellen is b [...]ameless, so is Paris too,
And did what thou or I my self would do.
The fault is thine, I tell thee to thy face,
By limiting these Lovers time and place.
From thee the seed of all thy wrongs are grown,
Whose counsel hath she followed but thy own
Alas what should she do, abroad thou art,
A [...] whom thou leav'st thy guest to play thy part.
To lie alone the poor wench is afraid.
In the next room an amorous stranger laid.
Her armes are open to embrace him▪ he falls in,
And Paris I acquit thee of thy sin.
Wo­mans rage
Neither the brisled Boar in his fierce wrath.
Torn by the ravenous dogs more anger hath.
Nor the she Lion hid within some ake,
Seeking her lost whelp, hid within some brake,
Nor the short viper doth more anger threaten,
Whom some unwary heele hath crusht and beaten,
Then a fierce woman shews her self in minde,
Her dearest in adulterous armes to finde.
Oh then she swells, her fir'd eye burns apace.
And you may see her thoughts writ in her face:
Through swords, through flames she ru [...]hes, ther [...]s no ill
To grievous but she acts it with her will:
This breaks all mutuall love, though well com­pounded.
This destroys all, though ne're so firmly groun­ded.
Medes did her husbands guilt repair,
And with her bloudy hand Absireus slay.
You Swallow which thou see it was such another,
Before her transformation a fierce mother:
And that the deeds may yet be understood,
The feathers of her breast were stain'd with bloud.
But for all this I taske not thy affection
Of one, and her alone to make clection.
You gods defend the fores should pro [...]e so deep.
These married men have much adoe to keep,
Play you the wantons, but being done conceal it,
And by no brags or foolish boasts reveal it.
Meet at no certain hour, give no known gift,
Thy usual place of meeting often shift:
It may be shrewd disturbers some may send thee,
And spialls may be set to apprehend thee.
And when thou writ st peruse thy Letter first,
Before thou send some take things at the worst,
Venus being wrong'd makes war, still moving sorrow,
Who late from others grief their mirth did borrow.
Whilst Agamemnon liv'd with one contented,
His wife was chaste, and never it repented:
His secret blows her heart did so provoke,
Wanting a sword she with the scabbard stroke:
She heard of Chryses and the many jars,
About Lyrnesis to increase the wars;
And therefore meer revenge the Lady charms,
To take Thyestes in her amorous arms.
If when thou hast gon on thy nightly arrant,
The act by circumstance peats too apparent,
Deny it sted fastly, what ere they know.
And boldly face them that it was not so.
Be not too sad, or of too mirthful cheer.
Lest in thy countenance thy deeds appear.
In thy close meetings use thy nimble knee,
It may perhaps a bold intruder be.
And after so repulsed setle the fort,
But ve [...]ture [...]ot too rashly on thy sport.
Many there he by whose un [...]k [...]ful motions,
You are prescrib d strange drugs and divers potions
To make you lusty; they are poysons all,
To infect the body and inflame the g [...]ll.
[...]nor with biting nettle seed they mix,
Of bastard pellitory some few sticks:
Which beaten and in old wine drunk up clear,
Makes sprigh fulmen aloft their standards bear.
V [...].
The goddesse that beneath high Eryx raigns,
Unto her pleasure no such bloud constrains.
White skall ons brought you from Megara eat,
With Garden Sage make Sallets to thy mea [...].
Take new-laid Eggs, fresh honey from the Bees,
Fine apple nuts full ripe, eat such as these:
This wholesome fare breeds nought corrupt or tragick,
What hath my Art to do with hellish Magick.
Thou that but now wast bid thy guilt to hide.
Turn from that course boast and in it take pride:
Nor blame the lightnesse of thy Tutors mind,
You see we do not sail still with one wind:
Sometimes the East and when his fury fails.
Weft, North and South by turn do fill our sails:
The Chariot driver sometimes slakes ois rains,
Sometimes again his horses he restrains.
Many there be which calmness much doth blind,
And if they find a rival grow unkind.
Prosperity makes humane minds grow ranck.
Themselves to know, or their great god to thank:
Nor is it held an easie taske to find,
Men that all fortune bear with equal mind.
As fire, his strength being wasted, hides his head
In the white ashes, sleeping though not dead,
But when a sudden blast doth come by chance,
Then fire and light all wake as from a trance
So when with sloth and rest the spirits grow blunt,
Love must be quickned even as fire is wont.
Make her to fear, and to look [...]ale sometime,
By shewing her some instance of thy crime;
Which she suspected erst in some strange vains,
Must she abide whilst she thy guilt complaints.
No sooner the report of this assails her,
But colour, voice, and every sence straight fails her.
Then am I he whose face she madly tears.
Whom she desires to have stre [...]ght by the eare.
Hate me she must, and yet, good God, she may not,
Without me live she will (alas) but cannot.
Dwell not upon this passion, but at length
Make peace, in little time rage gathers strength.
By this her white neck with thy armes embrace,
Drying the tears that trickle down her face.
Kisse her yet weeping, her yet weeping show,
All the proud sweets the Queen of Love doth know.
This makes true concord in her greatest rage,
These sports alone her passion can asswage.
Peace goes [...]narm'd and knows not wa [...]ke f [...]shions
This happy peace is known among all Nations.
Doves by their numbring songs shew their good wills,
But now they fought, and now they join their bills.
The first confused Masse no order knew,
Earth, Sea, and Heaven, had all one face one hew.
Straight was the heavens the earths large covering made
The shore girt in the Sea, not to in invade
Either in others bounds, then Chaos ceast,
And each thing in their several part in creast:
The woods receive the beasts, aire the birds take,
Fish the sea choose, and the land forsake,
Man wanders in the field, and knows no art,
Meer strength his body rules, meer lust his heart.
Groves were his cities, shadowed boughs his dwelling,
Water his drink, all other drinks excelling.
And long it was ere man the woman knew,
Till pleasure did their appetites pursue,
And then upon these unknown sweets she venter'd
Where many an unsact sort was scal'd and enter'd:
Art they had none, no man then plaid the Suitor,
Bu lay with her, and liv'd without a tutor.
Even so one bird doth with another toy,
And the male fish doth with the female joy.
The Hart the Doe doth follow, serpents too
Are with the Serpents held their feat to do:
The bounds in their adulterate parts were fast,
The joyful ewe receives the Ram at last.
The Cow with lofty bellowing meers the Bull,
And the ranck he-Goar finds the female trull.
The Mare to try the valiant horses courage
Swims over fords, and doth large pastures forage.
To thy offended Love give this strong potion,
And perfect friendship straight succeeds the motion.
This medicine rightly took all hate expels,
Apply it then, others it f [...]r excels.
As I was writing, loe, the god of fire
Appears, and with his thumb he stroke his life:
In his right hand a branch of Lawrel g [...]ew,
A Lawrel chaplet I might likewise view.
Circle his brow, though all men do not know it,
This shews the Sun god Phoebus is a Poet.
Who after moving of his head thus spake,
Mistriss of Love, thy amorous Schollars [...]ake,
And lead them to my temple built on high,
There is an old Sun known in every skie,
Which by his Characters do plainly show
That every man may learn himself to know:
Alone he wisely loves that can do so.
He that is fair may shew his amorous face,
Whose skin is white to do his colour grace,
Lie naked with his neck and shoulders bare,
Let him shun silence whose discourse is rare.
He that sings, sing by art, that drinks drink too,
By art and without cunning nothing do.
Let not the learned in their words declame,
Nor the vain Poet prate of his own fame.
So Phoebus warns, Phabus himself hath said it,
And his brave words are worthy to have credit.
To come more near the Lover that loves wisely,
If these my precepts he observe precisely,
Shall reach his wish, th'earth brings not still increase,
Ships when the winds keep in their course do cease.
Few be our helps, but many be our troubles,
Small is our furtherance which our let still doubles.
A Lover must endure much grief besides,
For every Hare in Atho that abides,
For every berry that the Olive yields,
For every spike of grasse sprung in the fields,
For every she [...]l showed on the salt Sea shore,
Love hath one grief to taste, and ten griefs more.
Art told, that she abroad but now did wander,
Yet in the wi [...]d [...]w seest her with a Pander,
[...]ame thou thine eyes, for it shall much availe thee,
Think not that newes but that thy eye-sight fail'd thee,
L [...]ks she [...]e door she promised to leave open,
O think not she de [...]eitfully hath spoken,
Take up thy lodging [...] make thy bed thy floor.
Thy [...]low [...]he cold thresho'd of the door:
Perhaps a Maid from high may cast a flout,
And aske what's he doth keep the gates without:
Yet both the Maid, and rude posts do thou flatter,
Sprit k [...]ing the se [...]t [...] and portals with rose water.
If she call [...] home; if bid [...]hee go, then trudge,
R [...]s she upon thee doth she call thee drudge:
Nay doth she knock thee, bear it, it is meet.
Nor sc [...]n it though she bid thee kisse her feet.
I dwell on trifles, greater matters hear,
To which though people lend a general eare.
On stricter impositions now we enter,
Virtue is still employed on hard adventer,
A rival brook, do this, and by Joves power,
Thou art inthrong'd a Conqueror in his tower,
Oh think me not a man that thus doth teach,
Some rough hew'd oak doth this hard doctrine preach.
This is the hardest thing I can impose thee,
If she defies, bear it, if she shows thee
Her hand, forbear to read it; every day
When she calls come; when she commands thee, stay,
This even the married to lead peaceful lives,
Are oft enforc'd to endure of their fair wives.
I am not perfect I must needs confesse,
In this my Art, though I this Art professe,
What shall I then, my word I cannot keep,
I have no power to swim a sea so deep.
Shall any kisse my Lady, I being by,
And to his throat shall I not mad [...]y f [...]ye.
Shall any becken to her, and I bear it,
Shall any court her, and I stand to hear it.
I saw one kiss my Mistriss, I complained.
And anger all my vital spirits constrained.
My Love alass for Barbarisme abound.
And doth my wits and spirits whole confound.
That Wittall is much better skill [...]d then [...]
Who sees such sights, and patiently stand's by.
To keep the room where such things are in place,
De [...]poils the front of shamfastnesse and grace.
Then oh you young men, though you come to view
Your looks be guilte [...]o [...] do not think it true
Suprise h [...]r not.
Against all censures I ever hold this plea,
It is not good to take them Rem [...]n Re.
Where two are taken napping both alike,
Their mutual guilt makes them the oftner strike,
The ta [...] of Venus and Mars.
This tale to heaven is blan [...]d how unawares
Venus and Mars was taken in Vr [...]ans snares:
The god of war doth in his brow discover,
The perfect and true partern of a Lover.
Nor could [...]he go [...]is Venus be so cruel,
To deny Mars: soft kindness is a Jewel
In any woman, and become her well,
In this the Queen of Love doth most excell.
(Oh Go [...]) how often have they mockt and flouted,
The Smith's pol [...] soot which nothing them misdoubted
Mad jests by him and by his begrim'd trade.
And his smudg'd visage black with cole-dust made.
Mars tickled with loud laughter when he saw,
Venus like Vulcan limp, and halt, and draw
One foot behind, another with a grace,
To counterfeit his odde and uneven pace:
Their meeting first they did conceal with fear,
From every searching eye and captives ear,
The god of war and his lascivious Dame.
In publick view were full of bashful shame.
But the Sun spies how this sweet pair agree.
Oh that bright Phaebus can be hid from thee.
The Sun both sees and blabs the sight forthwith.
And in all post he speeds to tell the Smith.
Oh Sun! what bad example dost thou show.
What thou in secret seest must all men know?
For silence, ask a bribe from her fair treasure,
She'll grant thee that shall make thee swell with plea­sure.
The god whose face is smudg'd with smoak and fire,
Placeth about the bed a net of wire,
So quaintly made that it deceives the eye,
Straight as he f [...]ins to Lemnos he must hie:
The Lovers meet where he the train hath set,
And both lay catch't within the wiery net,
He calls the Gods, the Lovers naked spraule,
And cannot rise, the Queen of Love shews all.
Mars chafe; and Venus weeps, neither can flinch,
Grappied they lie, in vain they kick and winch:
Their legs are one within anothers ti'd,
Their hands so fast that they can nothing hide.
Among these high spectators one by chance,
That saw them naked in this pitfal dance,
Thus to himself said, if that it tedious be,
Good god of war bestow thy place on me
Scarce at thy prayers, god Neptune, he unbound them,
But would have left them as the gods there found them.
The nets unti'd Mars straight repairs to Creet,
Venus to Paphos, after that they meet.
What did this help thee, Vulcan? shall I tell thee,
Unto more grief and rage it will compell thee,
The publick meeting which at first shame covers,
Is now made free; who knows not they be lovers.
There is no hope they should be now reclam'd,
Worse then they have been, how [...]hould they be sham'd
Of thy rash deed it often doth repent thee,
Mad art thou in thy minde, yet must content thee:
This I forbid you: so doth Venus too,
It harmed her, and she forwarns it you.
Lay for thy rival then no secret snare.
Nor intercept his tokens unawares.
Let those close pranks by such just men be tride,
That are by fire and water purifide
Behold once more I give you all to know,
Save wanton loves my art doth nothing show:
No govern'd Matron well and chafily guided
I here protest is in my verse derided.
What prophane man at Ceres kites dare smile,
Or blab her secrets kept in Samos Ile,
Silence is held a virtue, silence then,
Teltales and blabs, fie, Venus hates such men:
For blabbing Tamalus is plac'd in hell.
And there must ever and for ever dwell;
Hungry, whilst ripened fruit hangs by his lip;
Thirsty, whilst water by his chin doth slip:
But Venus more desires then any other,
Her secret my steries and rights to smother.
I charge you let no tel-tales hither come,
Such amongst many there must needs be some:
Hide her report from every ear that lists,
And lock her secrets up in brazen chests.
In their new births till pleasures buried lie.
Twixt us they grow, betwixt us let them die.
Her naked parts, if she to any shows,
Her readiest hand to shadow them she throws,
The shameless boasts in common field do stray,
And act their generation at noon day.
Which Maids by chance espying, cry oh spight.
And through their fingers look to see the sight.
But when our Lover with his Mistriss meets,
Have beds and doors shut twixt them and the streets:
With cloaths and vails their nakedness they shroud,
Wishing the bright Sun h [...]d behind some cloud:
Even in those days when men on Acorn [...]f [...]d,
And the green turfe was made the general bed,
When no [...]hatcht cottage, or poor house was builded,
By which from heat of cold they might be shielded.
Into the woods and caves the people went,
And their sweet pleasures there remotely spent.
In the Suns presence they shew'd nothing bare,
The rudest and most barbarous had this care.
As loth the day should view their publick shames,
Now to their nightly actions to give names,
Bargains and price is made in all their doing [...],
And no things cost us dearet then our woings.
Let not thy talk be when thou come'st in pl [...]ce,
To say that this, or that wench did me grace:
Or point then with thy finger, it may fall,
Thus thou maist loose her whom thou lov'st and all.
O her [...] there be from street to street do wander,
And innocent women in their shops do slander.
Forging of them they know not many a lye,
Which were they true they gladly would deny:
[...]or who command not: nay their spoil is such,
Whose bre [...]st they cannot fold, their names they touch
Go then thou od [...]ous Pander that keeps whores,
A thousand locks hang fast upon thy doors:
P [...]rt of her honest canst thou keep within.
W [...]en her whole name abroad is full of sin?
Do not their wanton wishes make them nought.
When they desire to be as they are thought.
Since [...]est Lovers we sparingly do teach,
Ye [...] like no p [...]blick craft their names impeach.
D [...]ssemble every fault in their complections,
Hi [...] not in womens teeth their imperfections:
I wi [...]h you rather smother them then blame them.
They love if you praise them▪ hate if shame them.
Andr [...]m [...]d [...] was belly▪ sides, and back,
To Persius seen, he did not term her black.
And [...]om [...]da she was of too huge a stature,
One loving Hecter prais'd her gifts of nature,
And lik'd her self at first despised:
Seem not so grosse when men will be advised.
Continuance and acquaintance wears away,
Such spo [...]s as are ap [...]arent the first day.
A young plant clothed in a tender rinde,
Cannot withstand the f [...]ry of the winde,
But when his back is grow [...] he scorns each blast,
[...]ight of whom he grows and bears at last.
Every succeeding week and following day,
Take from acqu [...]inted lookt a stain away,
And what to day a grosse blot thou wouldst guesse
To morrow in thy eye appears much lesse.
Young Heisers cannot be tickt to bear,
The ranck and lusty Bull for the first year;
But their society acquaints the smell,
After continuance they can brook it well.
Then favour their disgraces and relieve them,
Blemishes help by the good names you give them.
To her whose skin is black as Ebon was,
[...]ave said ere now, Oh 'tis a good brown Lasse.
Or if she look a squint, as I am true,
So Venus looks if she be black of hew,
Pale for the world like Pallas be she grown:
[...]ellow, by heavens Minerva up and down:
If she be tall, then for her height commend her,
She that is lean, like Envy, term her slender.
She that is dwarfish, name her light and quick.
And call her neat, well set, and grubbed thick.
She that is puft like B [...]reas in the cheek,
Is but full fac'd, and Daphne she is like.
Thus qualifie their faults, not to disgrace them,
But in a higher rank of beauty place them.
Or hapnest thou of one but dimme of sight,
Wrinckled her brow, her grisled hair turn'd white,
Her nose and chin half met, she would take scorn
To tell who Consull was when she was born:
The [...] if to such thy love thou wilt engage,
Look that at no time thou dost a [...]k her age:
Though she want teeth and have a flattering tongue,
Yet she takes pains to be accounted young:
This is the age, young men, that brings the gain,
And plenteous harvest of the spring-tides pain.
Imploy your selves then in your youth and streng'h,
Age with a soft space steals on you at length.
Spend thou thy youth at sea or till the land,
Or take a warlike weapon in thy hand:
Follow the wars, siege towns, or l [...]e in tren [...]hes,
Or if not so then learn to love fair wen [...]hes.
It is a warfare too, when men are trained.
And even by this employ [...]ent [...]
Such discipline, such practise must be used
By us, as those who hostile armes have chused.
Some women by their industry and pains,
The losse of years recovers and regains.
Times speedy course is by their art controld,
They can preserve themselves from being old,
Their amorous pastimes and lascivious plays.
They shape and fashion many a thousand ways.
With sundry pleasures they their trade commixe,
And every several day devise new tricks.
They can provoke the appetite and please it,
Conjure the spirit up, and streight appease it.
But these rich feasts of sweets which they prepare,
Women and men should both of even hands share.
I hate the bed that yields not mutual joys,
And that's the cause I love not jugling boys.
I hate her denies, that no spirit will use,
Yielding no more then what she cannot chuse.
I l [...]ke not pleasue, though I like the beauty,
Lasses of Love perform not but of duty:
Duty away, I banish thee the place,
Where mutual Lovers mutual sweets embrace.
Let me the musick of her soft voice hear,
Whispeting her ravisht pleasures in my ear,
To bid me on, then pause, proceed, then stay,
And tired with that, to try some other way.
Let me behold her eyes turn up the whites.
Now to be wrapt, now languish in delights.
These prodigal pleasures nature hath not given,
To the first age a little above seven.
The wine that from the unripe grape is prest,
Is tart, and sower, the mellow wine tasts best.
The palm tree till it hath a well grown rinde,
Cannot withstand the violence of the winde.
The mead new mown doth prick the feet that's bate,
I grant thee young Hermione was fair.
But to prefet the girle before the mother.
The beautious Hellen: neither one nor other
Can so blaspheme, here's Gorge some adore her,
But who praise her before the Saint that bo [...] her.
Now I suppose ripe fruits I most approve,
And in my thou [...]hts I cover mel [...]owed love.
You bed new tost, behold where it discovers.
The curtain being drawn to wanton Lovers:
There stay my muse, no further now proceed.
Without thy help they can both speak and speed.
Without thy help, kind words will quickly passe,
Betwixt the Lover and his amorous Lasse.
Without thy help their hands will nimbly creep,
And in each privy place their office keep.
Nay every finger will it self employ.
To adde increase to thy imperfect joy.
Handling those parts where love his darts doth hide,
This valiant. Hector with his wife hath tride.
Andromache to this of force must yield,
His valour was not onely in the field.
This stout Achilles of his love desired,
When with the slaughter of his enemies tired,
He caught his cuishes and unarm'd his head,
To tumble with her on a down soft bed;
Thou didst rejoice Briscis to embrace,
His bruised corps, and kiss his bloud-stain'd face.
These warlike hands that did but late embrew,
Themselves in bloud of Trojans whom they slew,
Were now employ'd to tickle, touch and feel,
And shake a Lance that hath no point of steel.
Believe me, for I spake as I have tasted,
The sports of Venus are not to be hasted.
They should be rather by degrees prolonged,
By too much speed much oft the sport is wronged.
When thou by chance hast hit the place,
Which being toucht a girle still hides her face:
Forbear not though she blush and spring and kick,
And tumbling shew thee many a gamble trick:
Thou shalt be hold her straightly still amazed,
Her eyes with lascivious tincture glazed,
Affording a strange kinde of humid light,
As when the Moon in water shines by night,
Let neither amorous words cease their inchanting,
Murmur nor whispering sounds of joys wanting:
Yea there let every sweet content resort,
Every word, deed and thought that furthers sport.
Let not thy Mistriss use too swift a sail,
Nor let thy haste beyond her speed prevail:
Both keep one course, your oares together strike,
Your journeys on them then, make your pace alike.
Together strive at once, win to the mark,
You may no question grope it in the dark;
Then is the fulnesse of all sweet content,
When both at once strive, both at once are spent.
Such course observe when as the time is free,
And that no jealous eyes attend on thee:
Being secure no future danger near,
Then thou maist boldly dally without fear;
But if thou beest not safe and hast short leasure,
Doubtful to be disturb'd amidst thy pleasure.
Make then what speed thou canst, use all thy force,
And clap a sharp spurre to a jade pack horse.
My work is at an end the palm bring me,
And let the Mittle gar [...]and be my fee.
How much renowned great Pol [...]idorus was,
That all the Greeks in Thy sick did surpasse,
As famous as great Nestor for his age,
Or strong Achilles for his warlike rage.
As much extold as Cal [...]as for his charms,
Or Telemonius Ajax by his arms:
As for his Chariot skill Ant [...]medon,
So great in Love shall I be censur'd on.
Cannonize me your Poet▪ give me praise,
And crown my Temples with fresh wreathes of bays.
Let this my laud in every mouth be sung.
And my fames clengor through the whole earch rung▪
I give you armour, such god V [...]dein f [...]amed,
So great Achilles he his enemies tamed:
And so do ye, but whatsoever he be,
That by my arms subdues his enemy,
This Motto let him give, lo here's a Lasse,
By Ovid my Arts Master conquered was.
Behold young Wenches likewise crave my skill.
They shall be next instructed by my quill.
FINIS.

The third Book.

ARm'd at all points, the Greek to field is gon,
To encounter with the naked Amazen:
Behold like weapons in my power remain
For the Fenthesile [...] and thy train.
Go arm'd alike, fight and they overcome,
Whom sacred Venus favours and her Son:
It were not meet poor naked girles should stand,
To encounter men provided hand to hand.
To conquer at such odds 'twere shame for men.
Oh but some say, why, Ovid, should thy pen
Put poyson into Snakes, or give to keep
Unto the ravenous wolf a fold of sheep!
Oh for some few offenders do not blame
All of their Sex, let not a general shame
For some few falters their whole brood inherit,
But every one be censured as they merit.
Although the two Atrides hath their lives,
Endangered both by falshood of their wives.
Though false Eriphile her husband sould,
To P [...]lynices for a chain of gold,
Yet did the fair Pen [...]lope live chaste,
While twice five years her royal Lord did waste
In bloudy battels, and as many more,
Wandring through every and unknown shore.
So did the chaste Phyllacides and she,
The partner of her husbands grief to be,
Went with him as his page a tedious way,
And in the travel died before her day.
Oh happy Theritiades, thy wife
From death redeemed thee with her own life,
Receive me, oh you flames, did Iphiaes cry,
And with my buried husband let me die,
And with that word she skips into the fire.
All fair endowments that we can desire
Raign in a womans breast; no marvaile then,
They with adorned virtues please us men.
But these chaste mindes my art enjoyneth not,
A softer sail will serve to guide my boat:
Nothing but wanton Love flows from my brains,
How pretty wenches may scape mens trains.
A woman ne ther fl [...]mes nor swords will shun,
But through them both unto her sweet bea [...]t run:
So will not men: poor girles by them are scoft,
Many times men fail, maids some [...]imes, not oft.
False Jas [...]n. lest Medea and her charmes,
To clasp another Mistriss in his arms.
As much as in thy power false Thescus lay;
So right Ariadne was a woful prey
To the Sea-fowls and Monsters left alone.
In a remote place friendless and unknown.
Many uncertain ways hath Phillis gone,
Being forsaken of her Dem [...]pheon.
And though Aeneas had a sirname good,
He left his sword to let out Dides bloud
But what destroy your Ladies can you tell?
You know not how to love or fashion well:
Your thoughts to art, Love artless stands unsure,
Art with Love temper'd is strong to endure.
Nor should you know it now, but that the Queen
Of sacred Love was in my vision seen:
And straitly charg'd me th [...]t I should impart,
To all the Sex the Secret of my Art.
For thus she spake, how have poor maids misdone.
That against armed men must naked run.
Two books have given men weapons in their hands,
The whilst out fearful Sex unatmed stands.
He that rebuk'd The ophes lewd desire,
Since sung her praises to a sweeter lire.
Thy self examine, canst thou do them domage,
To whom in time thou maist perform due homage.
Th [...]s having said she took from off her brow
A mirtle wreath, for in a mirtle bow
Her hair was twisted up▪ and gave to me
Of leaves and seeds a little quantity.
Streight in my brain I felt a power divine,
Whilst in the place a purer air [...]d d [...]shine;
And all the cares that hung upon my heart,
Even a [...] that instant I might feel depart.
My wits at ripest are; wenches come thick,
R [...]ceive my precepts whilst my wits are quick.
F [...]rst think how old age hourly doth attend
To steal upon thee, so be sure to spend
No season idly, thou art young, then play,
Years like the running waters glide away:
Thou canst not stay the flouds it streams so fast.
Not pull the short hours back when they are past.
Make use of time for time is swift and fleet,
Nor can the following good be all so sweet
As the fi st pleasure was: have I not seen
Thi [...] now a withere I stalk, once fresh and green.
From that bare throne within these many hours,
I had a chaplet of sweet smelling flowers.
The time shall come when thou that dost exclude,
Such Lovers from thy doors as would intrude,
Shall on an empty pillow throw thy bead,
Stretching thy stiffe limms on a frosty bed:
Nor in the night shalt thou be rais'd uplate,
By such as knock and thunder at the gate:
Nor in the morning when the Cock hath crowed;
Finde porch and threshold with fresh roses strowed.
Aime how soon doth the clearest colour fade,
How quickly wrinekles in thy skin are made.
Look on thy look and thou wilt sadly swear,
Age hath too soon snow'd on thy golden hair.
Snakes throw their age off when they change their skin
Harts when they cast their heads fresh strength begin,
And s given to them, when that in age they grow:
Ye-hare no heads to cast, no [...]k [...]ns to throw:
Your good flies helpless, therefore pluck the flower,
Which being gathered withers in an hour.
In many child birth age is quickly crept,
Fields soon grow lean that are so often reapt.
You see Endimion by the Moon lov'd still,
Nor doth she blush thereat; and by thy will,
Aurora▪ thou wouldst ever have the name
Of Cophalus thy dear, nor thinkst it shame.
And to conceale thee, Adonore, whose hearse,
Venus her self hung many a tragick Verse.
Tell us by whom you Queen-born of the Sea,
Had you Aeneas and Hermione?
Oh mortal generations follow these,
And practise after them being goddesses:
Do not deny your ravishing pleasures when,
They are besought you by desirous men.
Tell me what loose you by it, what thou hast,
Thou art possest of still, and feelst no wast.
Take thence a thousand sweets, be not afraid,
Thou keep'st thy own, and nothing is decay'd.
Stones are by use made soft, iron worn to drosse,
That never wears, and therefore finds no losse.
Who will deny us at a torch being light,
To light a taper till it burn as bright,
Or who would strive in their own power to keep,
All the spare billows in the vasty deep:
Yet will a woman plead her love is rare,
And in her plenty she hath nought to spare.
O tell me why so strange a doubt thou mak'st,
Dost thou but loose the water that thou tak'st.
I speak not this to prostrate every one,
But least you feat vain losse where losse is none:
Now greater gusts my swelling sail must strain,
Being from the shore new lancht into the main.
First with their neatnesse I begin, the vine
Well trimm'd and prun'd affords us choice of wine:
And in a field well till'd the corn grows tall,
Shape is the gift of God, none amongst you all,
But in their shapes take pride, nay there be many,
Proud of their favour when they scarce have any.
Proportion even the greatest number want,
But art supplies where nature hath been scant:
Care matres the face a while neglected
Will grow to ruine and be nought respected:
The Virgins of the old time had this care,
Their bodies and their beauties to repair;
F [...]se had the men of former ages spent,
Their years without their wonted ornament.
If you behold Andromathe go clad.
In manly robes, no marvail, for she had
A souldier to her h [...]band: if you see
The w fe of A [...]ax jet it valiantly,
Nor marvail, for she was his wise that bare
A shield of seven oxe hides thick tann'd with hair.
The world was plain, simple and [...]ude of old,
But now abundant Rome doth flow with gold.
And shines in glory with the bright reflection,
All [...]he wo [...]lds wealth is under her subjection:
B [...]ho [...]d the Capitall and thou wilt say,
In these great Jove hath choos'd to dwell for aye.
This gorgeous Court and Counsel-house was framed
Out of meer stubble when King Latius raigned.
These gorgeous Palaces that 'gainst the Sun,
Did g [...]nter and shine when they first begun.
A pasture for draught oxen: let them ease,
Their thoughts with ancient times whom old time please.
I thank the gods I in this age was born,
These times my humour fit, old days I scorn.
N [...]t because gold in the earths verns are sought,
Or shells, or stones from forraign shores are brought;
Not because marble from the h lls is digg'd,
Or voyage ships to unknown seas are rigg'd.
B [...]t because rudeness to the gates are sent,
And this our age is full of ornament.
Hang in your ears bright stones, but not too dear,
Such Indies cast up, and are sold you here.
Neatness we love, your hair in order tie,
To keep in within Law thy hands apply.
Thy hands mishape keep still and by her care.
Thou maist orese [...]m, deformed or wond ou [...] fair.
Nor is there onely one kinde of attire.
The fashion that becomes thee best desire:
Prove every shape, but ere it currant passe.
See thou before take counsel from thy Glasse.
A long and lean visage best allows,
To have the hair part just above the brows.
So Laod [...]meia sirnamed the fair.
Us'd when she walk [...]d abroad to trusse her hair.
A round plump face must have her trammels tied
In a fast not above, her front to hide,
The wire supporting it, whilst either ear,
Bare and in sight upon each side appear.
Your Ladies locks about her shoulders fall.
And her loose ware becomes her best of all:
So Phoebus lookt when last he toucht his Lute,
That other Lady doth her habit suit,
With chaste Diana being trickt to go,
To strike the savage Bore or tamelesse Roe.
She when her hair hangs loose hath greatest pride,
This best becomes her when her locks are tide.
Yon when her head tire is like a Tortoise shell.
Is roost and valted well, beseem [...] it well.
More leaves the forrest yields not from the trees,
More beasts the Alpes bred not, nor Hiblae bees,
Then there be fashions of attire in view,
Every succeeding day addes something new.
Many become their tires best when they wear,
Instead of sprucenesse a neglected hair:
And being comb'd, but now yet thou shalt say,
Her hair hath not been toucht since yesterday.
Art doth much change, so did Alcides see.
Io attir'd, and said this wench 's for me:
So Inokis whom the god of Grapes commended,
When by his shouting Satyres being attended,
He found her plac'd locks by the cool wind shifted,
With scattered hair her to his Coach he lifted.
How much oh nature are we bound to thee,
That findes for every grief a remedy.
And as our shapes and colour suffer cross,
Yet thou hast in thee to repair that loss.
To help [...]he de­f [...]cts of nature.
Say that by age or some great sickness had,
Thy head with wonted hair be thinly clad,
Falling away like corn from ripened sheaves,
As thick as Boreas blows down Autumn leaves.
By Germain herbs thou maist thy hair restore,
and hide the bare scalp that was bald before.
Women have known this art, and of their crew
Many false colours buy to hide the true.
And multitudes, yea more then can be told,
Walk in such hair as they have bought for gold:
Hair is good Merchandize and grown a trade,
Markets and publick traffick thereof made:
Nor do they blush to cheapen it among
The rudest number and the thickest throng.
Nay even before Alcides sacred flames,
And in the presence of the vestall Dames.
To leave their hair and speak of their attire,
I do not trails or purfled guards desire,
Nor robes of blushing scarlet prised high,
Whose wool is twice dipt in the Tirian dye:
Look but abroad, and thou maist in a trice
Find lighter colours, and of fat lesse price.
Were it not madnesse thou in scorn of lack.
Should wear at once thy whole wealth on thy back.
Behold the colour of the azure a [...]r,
When in a cloudless day the sky is fair.
And the South wind bring on the earth no showres
As once it did, what time one flow devoures
Thrinus and Hellis, such a colour chuse,
Tis neat and cheap, but costly dyes refuse:
That pretty colour intimates the waves,
And from the sea green drops a name it craves.
In this the young N [...]phes went apparrel'd most,
This saffron immitates of no great cost.
And yet she goes attired in saffron weeds.
That every morning decks fair Phoebus steeds;
Else such a dye as Paphian mirtles yield,
Or purple Amethistes, or a field.
Where nothing save the milk white roses grow,
Or that of new the Thratian Cranes do show.
Let not fair Amarillis wanting be,
Thy acknorns [...]y b [...]ooms of Almond tree,
All these of several coloured juice be full,
And with the several colours stain the wool.
So many sundry flowers as the fresh spring
In spight of winters horrid rage doth bring,
To deck the earth with full so many hues,
The thirsty earth doth drink and none refuse.
To suit their attire to their [...]omple­ [...]tions.
Mongst which fair women out of your affections,
Choose them that shall become best your complections.
She that is brown let her attire be white,
Briseis ware a robe of colour light
When she was ravisht. Others that are fair,
Let their attire be black as Sables are.
Swarthy Andromed ware a milk white smock,
When she was ti'd half naked to the rock.
Lest you be seen, so let no ranckness grow,
Betwixt your arms and shoulder let none show.
Of rough and ragged hairs there may appear,
Vpon your legs and thighs, but not too near.
I do not teach young maids by Caucase bred,
Or such as drink of Mysus; but in stead
Of barbarous trulls, to you brave girles of Rome,
Do I direct my phrase, and to your dome.
I now instruct you how your teeth to fre [...],
Lest in their use some furdness they do get:
To keep their teeth.
To wrince your mouthes in water: you have wit
To apprehend my words: betimes to sit,
And in the morning take away the slime,
Which makes the white teeth subject to such crime,
Let such whose blouds are black and swart,
Whom nature reds not, make them red by art.
Che [...]ks.
Art likewise fills the wrinckles in the brows,
A skin of dy'd red leather art allows,
To rub your faces with, nor hold it shame
To kindle in your eyes a spark of flame:
It may be done with saffron, which like corn
Grows near bright Cydnas whereas thou wert born.
I have a little book in substance small,
And yet a work of weight, writ to you all.
The Treatise is unto your general graces,
How you by art may best preserve your faces.
You whose rare beauties have receiv'd a scar,
Seek thence your helps, receipts there written are.
You may there find how to restore your blouds,
My art was never idle for your goods.
Beware lest that by chance your boxes lie
Upon the table, and your Loves passe by:
Throw them aside, art spreads her safest net
When she is most with cunning counterfet.
Spill not thy drugs al ke in every place,
They will offend such as behold thy face,
Corrupting the beholder with such motion,
As should he see thy garments stand with lotion:
How doth the greasie ranck wools smell offend,
Though we for it as far as Athens send,
Yet is it good for use, not before men,
Vse thou Deers marrow good for medicen:
Nor before men in presence rub thy teeth,
They both are good, yet harsh to him that seeth,
Many things which in doing we detest,
Being once done they oft times please us best:
These stately pillars in iron carv'd and wrought,
Were a confused rock, this ring he brought,
To that good form, was once unfashioned ore,
The costly cloth thou wearst a rough sheep bore:
The curious picture of fair Venus was,
Before the cutting an unpolisht masse.
Mind thou thy beauty when we think thee sleeping,
Thy hand, thy box, thy glasse their office keeping:
Why should I know how thou art grown so fair,
Shut fast the forge where beauties joined are.
For many things there be men should not know,
The greatest part of them if you should show,
They should offend them much; spare not to shroud
The doing, though the thing done be allowed.
The golden ensigns yonder spreading far,
Which wasts them to the gorgeous Theater.
See what thin leaves of gold foil guild the wood,
Making the columes seem all massie good:
Note
Yet are the audience of all sight debarred,
Untill the showes and sights be full prepared:
Ob­serve this wo­man.
So in thy preparation marke this note,
Still make thee ready in a place remote:
Yet sometimes if thy head be wondrous faire,
Even before men tis good to comb thy haire,
The haire a beauty hath which much besots,
Being tied and wreath'd in pleats and comely knots,
But be not tedious in thy art applying,
Be quick both in the fasting and untying:
Still when thou goest to dresse thy self be safe,
I hate those sullen pettish things that chase
At every idle crosse, who scratch and bite,
And with their nailes and bod [...]ins pinch and fight:
Wounding themselves in anger; rending▪ tearing,
The wires, the tires, the ruffes which they be wearing
She that is badly haired, let her before
She dresse her self, set w [...]t h still at the doore,
Upon the suddain 'twas my chance one day,
To press into the place where my sweet heart lay:
When wondring she unwater was thrust upon,
Snatcht up her hair and put the wrong side on,
Like cause of shame let come unto my foe.
And such disgrace unto the Parthians go
A scalded breast, fields that no grasse wi [...]l bear.
Trees without leaves, and heads that have no haire
Are odious to the eye none of you three,
Europa. Leda▪ or faire Semele.
Were subject to this want or me did need,
The help of Physick in this point to read:
Nor Hellen thou who with advise me it deep
Menelaus askes; the Trojane still do h keep.
The wanton wenches in full troops passe hither,
Good, bad, faire, foule, of all sorts flock together:
And come to be instructed; amongst which
Oftimes the faire be poor, the foul be rich.
And yet the fairest have of me least need,
Their beauty is a dower that doth exceed
My precepts farre. The Sea being calm and clear,
The secure Seaman all his sailes may bear.
But when it swells and is disturb'd a part.
The troubled Pilot must try all his art,
Of every little mole be thou not squeamish,
Ti [...] hard to finde a face that hath no blemish.
Yet sha't thou seek to hide the least disgrace,
A less­on for dwar. [...].
Either in thy proportion or thy face.
If thou beest short thy stature hide by wit,
Still sit, least standing thou beest took to sit,
And stretch thy legs at length out in thy bed:
Lest that thy stature there be measured:
Love Dwarfe, observe my words I hold it meet,
Remedy for them that [...]e [...]ean [...].
To have some garment thrown upon thy feet,
She that is wea [...]ish and no clothes can fill.
Her double plated gown must sit by skill.
To make her portly, whilst a robe unbound
From her two shoulders falls unto the ground,
She that is pale, with purple stain her checks,
She that is black the fish of Phar [...]s seekes.
[...]ale. Blacke Splay-foot;
A splay mishapen foot in white shoes hide,
And let dryed legs were a rich garter tide:
Let such whose shoulder blades stand much in sight
Weare boulster'd gownes to make them seem upright.
Ta slender
About a faint and slender body weare
A flannel swathband or warm stomacher,
Such whose far hands are itchy in the joynt,
Seabed hands. Stinking breaths B [...]d toothed.
When they discourse let them not use to point.
You that have stinking breaths must not speak fasting
But help themselves by some good breakfast taking,
Else chew a clove the strength of it to breake.
Or keep some distance of, still when you speake:
Or if thy teeth in wide uneven ranks grow,
Or be they gag'd, black or too great in show,
Rot, lost, or that the fashion disagreeth.
Beware of laughing, laughing shewes the teeth:
Who would believe this wonder. yet 'tis true,
Maids may be taught to laugh and to eschew
Uncomely mouthes add harsh tricks of the face.
In laughing is much comeliness and grace:
[...]e moderate in thy fleering ther [...]s a feat
To be observ'd in that; make not to great
The hollew pits mirth digs in eveery cheek,
To [...]id thy gummes let both thy redlips meet,
Nor do thou stretch thy entrails by constraining
Thy self unto loud laughter: neither faining
A more familiar gesture with voice flat,
Sound out a wonanish noise I know not what:
Look but on them that with loud y [...]lling force,
Antick and perverse faces that shewes worse:
And there is such a coile with wry mouths kept,
That when they laugh, a man would swear they wept
Ball as the slow Asse brayes out of the mill,
Many vvith untun'd clamour hoarce and shril,
How to weep.
What cannot art? women are taught to weep,
And in their look a sober form to keep:
To shape their eyes according to their passion,
How to Lispe.
Both at what time they please, and in what fashion
Is there not grace in lisping to be found,
To give true words a forg'd imperfect sound,
Robbing the tongue his office in some part.
Evest in depraving words is sometimes art.
Many that by my words my meaning scan,
Are taught to speak lesse perfect then they can.
Weigh these my words according to their worth,
And these being cond take other lessons forth:
Learn how with womanish pace to use your gate,
In every step there is a kind of state,
Nor is their ought that yet my art discovers,
Which with more violence drawes or drives backe love [...]
Behold your Ladies gate the rest out strips,
See with what cunning she doth move her hips:
And in the pride of steps how the cold wind.
Swels her loose vailes before her and behind.
This like the blushing wife of Ʋmbey paceth,
Her ful viewed legs at every stride she graceth.
Long measured steps do fit the state of some,
How [...]re to ap­pear bare.
Others a moderate pace doth best become▪
As far as where the arms and shoulders parts,
Appear thou bare to wound the amorous hearts
Of wanton youths, this fashion understand
Longs to the faire, not such whose skins be tand.
Such sights ere now have made me I protest,
To kisse her neck her shoulders end her breast,
The Sirens are Sea Monsters whose sweet notes.
Drawes to their tunes the wandring ships and boates:
And if their ears with wax they do not stop,
They are charm'd to leap up from the hatches top.
Song is a fair endowment, a sweet thing,
A praiseful gift:
Sing▪
then women learn to sing.
Hard favour'd girles by songs have won such graces.
Their sweet shril tongues have prov'd bands to their fa­ces
Sometimes rehearse a speech brought from the play
Or else peruse some poeme in thy way.
Of Musick I would have thee know the skill,
With thy right hand to use a R [...]be ks quill,
Or with thy left a harpe, when Orpheus plaid,
The beasts, and trees, and stones to dance he made.
And in his way to hell no fiend durst stirre,
Nor tartar power, nor tripple headed Curre.
Thou that so justly do thy mother punish,
Did'st by thy Musick skill the world astonish:
In those sweet walks that vvere by musick rear'd,
By every such sweet harmony is heard:
The armed Dolphin is by nature mute,
Yet did he lift Arion to thy Lute.
Learn Musick then; and hope to play upon
The double handed sweet Psaltirion.
Read Poetrie; the vvorkes of Cous seek.
Or great Callimacc [...]s that vvrit in Greeks
The laboured lines of Bac [...]hus Poet get,
Read vvhat lascivious Sappho else hath vvrit.
For vvhat more vvanton vvorkes then Sappho lives?
See vvhat delight to the Propertius gives:
Or if thy further leasure serve thee, look
In Gallus vvo [...]kes, or in Tibullus book.
Or Varro that of Phrixus and his neece
The Legend vvrit, and of the golden fleece:
Or read Aeneas banishment from Troy,
Th'original of Rome, Rome doth enjoy
No books more famous. Happly to my grace
Some one may say, thou Ovid hast a place.
Amongst the rest thou and thy lines may sound
To aftertimes, not be in Le [...]he drown'd.
Some one may say perchance, our Master read
The last he drew with a double head.
Or those three Books which he Amorum calls.
Entituling them of Love, which of them fal [...]
Into thy handling first that do thou chuse,
And lovingly my loving lines peruse:
Or with a compos'd voice my Cantos sing,
The use of these Loves Mistriss first did bring.
To other yet unknown, oh Phoebus grant,
Grant this you gods, whom sacred Poets haunt
Wi [...]h their oblation [...], grant th [...]se my powers divine,
Thou god of Grapes, and you oh Muses nine.
Who doubts but I would have you learn to dance,
Measure and Galliards shall your name advance,
Command your arms and hands that they agree
Unto the motion of the foot and knee.
In moving of the body hand and side,
The commick Actor cannot take more pride.
Nor use more art, the comeliness of either
Concurres, and I compare them both together,
To Game.
Learn trivial sports, but oh your Poet shames,
To bid you be experienc'd in some games:
Yet long they to my art; then be not nice
To learn to play at cockall or at dice,
How to cast lots and chances, which to guesse,
To play at draughts, at tables, or at chesse,
To use a racket, or to tosse a ball,
At set game, or at that we bandy call;
To passe the night at billiards till eleven,
At pick pandy, cards, or odd or even.
Play prepares love, your skill is not so needful,
As ought to be your looks and carriage heedful,
Your greatest cunning is with Art to frame,
The gesture and the countenance in your game.
Game makes us earnest if we play with care,
Then with our open thoughts our breasts lie bare,
And straight we brawle and scold; a grievous stain.
Oh these be monstrous faults to chide and rail,
Or to blaspheme the gods when out luck fail:
To vow or sweat wi h protestations deep,
And in the heat of play to fret or weep.
Great Jove himself from you such crimes expell.
Who covet suitors and to please them well▪
Na [...]ure these trivi [...]l sports to women lends,
A f [...]ee scope of pastime she extends
By much unto us men, for so we may
Scourge tops, fling darts, and at the foot-ball play,
Vault, ride, and teach the horse to trot the ring,
Frequent the Fense-school, practise arms, leap, spring.
Nor can you march or muster on the sea,
Or like the Merchant vent'ter go to sea:
Walk may you sometimes under Pompey's shade,
To Phoebus palace, so the place was made
For noval triumph▪ [...] the Memphean sawn:
To the goat-field where chariots are still drawn.
To the warm bleeding altar, some prefers
Before all these the three brave Theaters:
Thus covet to be seen unseen, unprov'd,
What is not viewed and known cannot belov'd:
What profit were it to have beauteous been,
If thy admired sa [...]e were never seen?
Say you more skill'd in songs then Orpheus were,
Or Thamira [...], such if men cannot hear,
How should your Musick please? Apelles painted
Venus in Cols, else her fame had tainted,
And died in Lethe, he redeem'd her name,
What hunt the sacred Poets for but fame?
Onely for fame their labouring spirits they send.
Of all their vows, fame is the scope and end.
But see what alterations rude time brings,
Poets of old were the right hand of Kings.
The dignity of Po­ets.
Large were their gifts, supream was their regard,
Their meeted fame, with fear and reverence heard,
Honour and state and sacred Majesty
Belong'd to such as studied Poetry:
Ennius by Scipio that great man was sought,
And from the mountains of Calabria brought,
Unhonored now the Ivy garland lyes:
The antient worships done to Poets dyes:
Yet we should strive our own fames to awake.
Homer a living lasting work did make:
His Iliads call' d else who had Homer knowne?
Had Dana [...]s in her tower an old wife growne,
And never unto publick view resorted,
How had her beauty been so farre reported:
You that applause would for your beauties win,
Be oft abroad, and keep not to much in:
At the full folds the she wolfe seeks her pray,
Though amongst all she steals but one away.
Ioves bird the Eagle when she soares most high,
To seize on fow [...]e doth at the covy fly,
Frequent you fair ones, where men may you see,
Mongst many one best part will fancy thee:
In every place where thou shalt hap to sit,
Loose none by frownes whom thou by smiles maist get:
The bow of Cupid never stands unbent.
And oftentimes things fall by accident,
Be thou prepared, hang alwayes out thy hook:
For in that stream where thou no fish wouldst look
A fish by chance may bite, oft have I seen
The vvandring hound range vvhere no game hath been:
And harts that scape the chase when no man minds them
Fall in the toyles and there the keeper finds them.
What hope hadst thou Andromeda being bound.
Unto a rock a lover to have found:
Being prepar'd for death, beset vvith fears,
Blubberd thy cheeks, thy eye quite drovvnd in
At burial of one Husband vvell I vvot.
Another husband hath been oft times got,
Weeping for him thats lost may hap to grace thee,
And in the bosome of a second place thee.
But in your choice especially bevvare.
Of shch effeminate men as starch their hair,
Prank up themselves, who lisp and cannot leave it,
Love Complement, and use to smell of Civit:
They have a thousand loves, what they protest
To thee they'll do as unto all the rest:
Ʋnstaid such be, and what will women say,
When in their thoughts men are more light then they.
Scarce will they credit me, and yet 'tis true,
Troy had yet stood, and Illium been in view,
Had every thing been swaid as Priam spake,
Lovers d [...]sloyal­ty in many several passe­ges.
But good advice they leave, fond counsel take.
There are who under show of love do fain,
And by such passage seek dishonest gain.
Let no mans hair deceive with powders sweet,
Nor studded gitles which are short and meet:
Nor these fine womens coats, a sightly thing,
Nor that each finger bears a golden ring.
Perhaps who in this kind most gallant goes,
Is a close thief, and loves nought but your clothes.
Some Maids thus rob'd, so loud cry for their own,
That all the town and country hears their moan,
Venus whose golden shrines at Appia [...] stand,
And Palla [...] laugh a good these strifes in hand:
There are some Maids too sure, but of bad fame,
Who oft deceiv'd are thought to use the same.
Oh learn by others plaints to hear your own.
Ope not your ears to men, whose frauds are known.
Believe not Theseus Athenians though he swear,
The gods can witness no more then they hear.
And thou Demophoon, to false Theseus heir,
Phillis deceived was by speeches fair.
If men make promises, then maids make you.
If men perform, perform your vowed joys too.
Now I'le come nearer, Muse take faster hold.
No loose thy seat the wheels though swiftly rold.
Men frame them set, Maids vows are elswhere wtit.
Let some maids take their course, for it were fit:
Look on them, read them, from the words then gather,
Whether he fains or sues intirely rather:
After some while Write back: ever delays
Inflames a Lover; so no tedious stays.
Shew not thee pliant to the youth denies,
Nor yet deny him what by suit he plies:
Let him both fear and hope by every Letter,
Be his fearlesse, his hopes come sure and better.
Be your phrase pure, but common usual words,
In speech the plainest stile best grace affords:
Full of ambig [...]o [...] words love so misplace,
And a foul t [...]ng [...]e hath hurt a beauteous face:
But since although you y [...]t not m [...]rried be,
To go beyond us men that care take ye.
By maids or some known lad your let [...]ers send,
And to no strange young man tokens commend.
I have seen some maids so terrifi'd with this,
That ever after they were slaves I w [...]sse:
Faithlesse he s who keeps such tokens back,
And burns l ke Ae [...]na till he ope the pack.
Trust me we may with fraud quit fraud again,
From force to shield, from force the laws maintain,
One maid must use her self to many hands;
Ill might he speed who shifts their true commands:
Deface the old seal when you do reply,
And to one writing but one hand apply.
Subscribe your Letters thus, thine in all love,
Be his, as he was yours, this art to approve,
If from small things we may to greater go,
And in our ship spread out full sail to show.
It long to beauty to have manners milde,
Sweet pace fits women, fierce, rage, savage, wilde.
Impedi­ment to beauty, Anger.
Rage swells the face, the veins makes black with bloud,
The eyes blaze ghastly like fell Gorgons brood.
Away, quoth she, I prize not feature so,
Pallas should view her face where waters flow.
And should you look your anger in your glasse,
You would scarce discern your visaga whose it was.
Pride.
Nor do we lesse blame proud and lofty look [...],
Gentle and humble eyes are Cupids book,
We men do hate this over-weening pride
Shown in the silent face-trust him hath tride.
View him views you, if men then women smile,
Signs made to you, make signs, 'twill men beguile.
Thus whiles he plays before with headlesse dart,
Cupid hath after wounded to the heart.
We hate men sad, Ajax Tecmessa take:
We merry Greek [...] blithe wenches swee: hearts make.
Andromach and Tecmessa, all your state,
Could not move me to chuse you for my mate.
Take gifts of rich men who do law professe.
Give him no fee, be his Client, he'll need the lesse▪
We that make verse, let us send only verse
Our hearts are pliant, whose love soon doth pierc [...]
We spread abroad sweet beauty lasting praise
We Nemesis, we Cynthias honour raise:
The East and West land knew lov'd Lycoris,
And many ask who our Corinna is,
Besides we Poets from all frauds are free,
And forward manners by our Poetrie.
Nor honour us, nor love of money please,
We sleight our gains for privacy and ease.
Soon are we caught, our loves burn fierce and bold.
And where we love we know too well to hold,
So 'tis we soften nature by meeke art.
And as our studies, so our loves take part:
A favour Maidens, a blest Poets will,
Heavens power we have, the Muses own us still,
A God is in us, we commerce with Iove,
The spirit in us, bove your bright stars doth move
To look for money from us, what a crime:
And yet no Maides do fear it in our time.
At first be not too eager, faine beware,
A novice lover slights an open snare:
Nor do we rule a horse new broke to back.
With the same raines, as he that is skild to rack?
To catch one staid in years, and a briske swaine,
Must not one way, may not one course be taine;
Hee's rude, and in loves tents nere seen before,
Who as a new prey touch'd thy chamber door.
Who knows no maid but thee, none else would know
This corne would be high fenced that it may grow
If one, he is thy own, no rivals frown,
Two things admits no mate, Love and a Crown.
That antient souldiers wise and softly loves,
And much that younger scorus he meekly prove,
He [...] l break no posts, nor burn with furious fire,
Nor scratch his Mistriss soft cheeks in his ire,
He'l tare no clothes, his Loves, nor his own,
Nor shall his torne hair give him cause of mone:
These things fit youthes, whose age in love is hot,
This bears harsh wounds gently as they were not:
Old men burn softly like a torch that's drie,
As wood [...] from heath cut down when first they ly
Old mon love sure, youth short, but fruitful made
Maides pluck those fruits betimes, betimes which fade,
Nay yeild up all, ope the gates to our foe,
That faith from faithlesse treasure once may flow:
Whats easie granted, long love cannot feed,
(Denial seeth) our sports must oft proceed:
Let them walk at the gate, cry cruel dore,
Do humbly much, but in their threats much more.
We loath these sweets, bitter love makes them new,
The wind o [...]t drown'd the ship by which it flew;
T [...]s this makes men their vvives to slight so still.
They're ready prest when ere their husbands will.
Let the Maide run and cry we are undone,
And hide the sacred youth till fear be gon;
Yet sport him midst these fears lest he misprise,
Y [...]ur nights not so much worth such fears should rise
I had like to passe by, what art to deceive.
Your hu [...]band and sly keeper to bereave
Wives fear your husbands who must keep you in
'Tis firm by law right modestie hath bin.
Her to be kept whom late revenge hath wrought.
Who can endure to avoide these means be sought▪
As many keep thee as had Argus eyes,
If thou wilt out thou shalt defeat with lyes
You [...]l say your keeper doth withstand to write.
T [...]ke water for your self what time you might,
Wh [...]t can the Keeper when the Cities fill,
[...]f plaies, and Maids see horses run that will.
When she will, a maide complaines her head.
And faining sick, hides whom she will in bed:
When the false key tells plainly what is done,
And to her chamber are more wayes then one.
Besides a keeper may be foxt with vvine▪
Prest from the grapes of Spain, and so made thine:
And there be drugs, which can cause a sound sleep,
And shut the eyes fast drencht in Lethe deep,
You know Maides to May quickly finde some way
By long made sports to hold him in delay.
But what need I for to go farre about,
When one small gift may buy the keeper out,
Gifts trust me do appease both gods and men,
By Gifts even Iov [...] is pleased now and then.
What do the wise since fooles in gifts delight,
Give, and the husband sayes nought, say he might,
Hast bought thy keeper once, he's thine for ever.
The help he once affords he'l fail thee never.
I blam'd companions now it comes to mind,
The hurt by it not men alone do find.
Beleive me, other Maides thy joyes may taste,
And others with thee hunt the Hare as fast,
The wench that sweeps the chamber, makes the bed
With sports of love hath more then once bin sped,
Let not your waiting Maides be over fair,
Their Mistriss place by them supplied are,
Where run I Mad man? naked 'gainst my foe,
And ope those ports that may me overthrow:
The birds teach not the fowler how to take them,
The harts teach not the dogs to run and shake them,
Look too't that need my task: Ile do indeed,
Though 'tis to lend a sword to make me bleed:
'Tis easie to make us think We are beloved,
Their faith which to desire is quickly moved:
Smile lovely on a youth, sigh from your hart.
Aske why he comes so late: a pretty art.
Shed some few tears, fain grief for some close love,
And tear your haire as doth your passions move.
He is overcome straight, pitty he will take,
And say his care is only for my sake:
If he be spruce, and look fair in the glasse
He'll think the gods love him, let not this passe
Who ere thou art be not thy wroth so strong?
Nor rage not overmuch hath he done wrong.
Trust not too soon: what art is in this case,
Procris may be example. Have your grace,
Near to Hymettus hill a holy well,
And a moist ground thick grasse the ancients tell;
The wood's but underwood about this land,
The Crab tree. Rosemarie, Bay, Mirtle stand,
The thick leav'd boxe, the Tamariske so small,
L [...]w shrubs neat Pines, there do these trees grow all,
The gentle West wind and the healthfull aire
[...]low all those leaves and gras blades which are there:
C [...]phalus lov'd rest, his hounds and men forgone,
Weary in youth this ground oft sat upon,
And thus he sings, thou which dost lay my heat,
And my breast swage, come gentle aire and beat,
One over dutious told his fearful wife,
These words she heard, and so began the strife:
[...]ro [...]r [...] who for a strumpet tookt this care,
Fell down much moved with a suddain feare.
Look how the vine-leafe which you latest gather,
She lo [...]kt so pale, or far more paler rather:
Or the ripe Quince tree which doth bend his bough
Or d [...]g tree fruite▪ which none for meat allowes,
Come to her self, her garments quite she tore,
From of her breast, and made her breast all gore,
And without stay in rage and haste she goes,
Her haire about her neck like Bacchus throes:
Being near the place, her mates she leaves behind,
Steels st [...]ly to the wood no fear in minde,
'Tis thus thou think'st now, who this aire should be
And her dishonest tricks thine eare shall see:
Her coming shames her now, she would not take her
Yet now she's glad she's come, love doubtful makes her
The name, the place, the sign, all these agree,
And what the minde feares, that it thinks to be,
Seeing the grasse so by some body prest,
Her trembling heart knockt at her tender breast:
Now the Mid-day had made the shadows short,
The evening and the morn bear equal part:
Young Cephalus returns unto the wood
And cooles his face with water as he stood.
Procris stands close, on the grasse he laies him fair,
And cries aloud, blow west winde, come sweet aire;
So soon as she had heard the erroneous name,
Her minde and her true colour to her came,
She rises, with her body the leaves shake,
In mind to Cephalus her way to take:
He thought it some wild beast, snacht up his bow,
His arrow in his right hand wont to show.
What doest thou wretch, 'tis no beast, stay thy dart.
Alas, thy arrowes pierce a womans heart:
She cries out, thou hast stroke thy loving breast,
Upon this place thy wounds have ever rest.
I dy before my time, not wrong'd in love,
This earth made me suspect thee light to prove,
Aire take my breath, thee 'twas I did mistrust,
I dy, close thou mine eyes, lay me in the dust.
She ended speech and life, and falling down,
Her husband takes her last breath from the ground
He bears his dying love in woful armes,
And wailes with tears so strange and deadly harmes:
But let us back, I see I must be plain,
At the lost haven that our ship may again,
You look now to be brought unto a feast.
And that we teach you here as in the rest:
Come late, but comely brought in by night.
Thou shalt be welcome, so delay hath might.
Though thou be black thou shalt seem faire to all.
The night will hide thy faults both great and small:
Eate neatly with your fingers, art commands,
Wipe not thy whole face with thy dirty hands.
Eate not to long, leave ere you would forbear,
More then thou wel canst do, this council heare:
Were Hellen greedy, Paris would her hate:
And say my rape is foolish our of date,
To drink is comely: and more fit for you,
Bacchus doth well with Venus, this is true,
Drink, but yet not more then you well can bear
And what is one, let it not to appear:
A shameful thing to see a woman drunk
Such a one is fit to be each base knaves punk.
Nor is it safe to sleep the tables drawn,
Much shameful things have in your sleep bin sawn
Tis shame to teach you more yet Dion sayes.
Shame is the chiefest abject of these layes
Each know your selves as you your bodies see,
So frame your lying in form that it may be,
Wrose face is beauteous she must ly upright,
Whose back is best that still must be in sight:
Atlantaes thighes upon hie shoulders wore,
Melanion be these best, shew the more.
Low Maides must rise, Thebais was somewhat long
Nere sat on Hect [...]rs horse her pride among,
Who hath a long side, which shoul'd have in eye,
Let her bend to her knees her neck aw [...]y:
Whose hidden parts have not a fault or spot,
Ly ever side long, pray forget it not.
Not think it a disgrace your hair to loose,
And then thy neck cast backward still to choose
Thou that art ragged, close and covered ly.
And from mens sight like the swift Parthian fly:
Love hath a thousand waye [...] most voide of pride,
To ly halfe upright on the righter side,
Apollos, Tripos, nor horrid Ammon say,
Nor things more true then what are in our lay:
If there be truth, in art, got by long use,
Believe and trust, you'l find it in our muse.
Maides see you love us men, pluckt from the root,
One thing may help you and stead to boot:
Cease not fair words, cease not your close wispring sweet
And vvanton vvords must with your sports oft meet,
And thou whom nature hath bard loves quick sense,
Fain pleasant joyes though the things be from thence:
Unhappy Maid, to vvhom that place is dull,
Which vvith a man and vvoman should be full.
Yet vvhen you fain, bevvare, let none else knovv it,
For fear thy gesture or thy eyes may show it:
What helps the speech and shewes the breath is ill,
That patt hath secrets, shame would hide it still,
Who seeks a man after enjoynment straight,
Loving a gift would not her praiers had weight;
Ope not your windowes wide to take in light,
Much in your bodies rather fits the night,
Our sport is done, 'tis time the swannes depart,
VVhich on their necks, as yoaks have dravvn out art
As Men before, say Maides, vvhen ye prevaile,
Ovid our Master vvas, his heart our sai [...]e,
FINIS.
THE LOVES OF HERO AN …

THE LOVES OF HERO AND LEANDER A mock POEM: WITH Marginal Notes, and other choice Pieces OF DROLLERY Got by heart, and often repeated by divers witty Gentlemen and Ladies, that use to walk in the New Exchange, and at their recreati­ons in Hide Park.

Vt Nectar Ingenium.

LONDON Printed Anno Dom. 1667.

THE REMEDIE OF LOVE

WHen Cupid read this title, streight he said,
Was, I perceive, against me w [...]ll be made:
But spare (oh Love) to tax thy Poet so,
Who oft hath born thy Ensign 'gainst thy so
I am not lie by whom thy Mother bled,
When she to heaven on Mars his horses fled.
I oft, like other Youths, thy flame did prove,
And if thou aske, what I do still; I Love
Nay I have taught by art to keep loves course,
And made that reason which before was force,
I seek not to betray thee, pretty boy,
Nor what I have once written to destroy.
If any love and find his Mistriss kind,
Let him go on and saile with his own wind;
But he that by his love is discontented,
To save his life my verses were invented;
Why should a Lover kill himself? or why
[...]hould any, with his own grief wounded, die?
Thou art a boy, to play becomes thee still.
Thy reign is soft, play then, and do not kill;
Or if thou 'It needs be vexing, then do this,
Make Lovets meet by stealth and steal a kisse:
Make them to fear, least any overwatch them,
And tremble when they think some come to catch them
And with those tears that lovers shed all night
Be thou content, but do not kill outright.
Love heard, and up his silver wings did heave,
And said. Write on, I freely give thee leave.
Come then all ye despis'd that love endure,
I that have felt the wounds, your Love will cure;
But come at first, for if you make delay,
Your sickness will grow mortal by your stay▪
The Tree, which by delay is grown so big,
In the beginning was a tender twig.
That wich at first was but a span in length,
Will, by delay, be rooted past mens strength.
Resist beginnings, medicines bring no curing
Where sickness is grown strong by long enduring.
When first thou seest a Lasse that likes thine eye.
Bend all thy present powers to descry
VVhether her eye or carriage first will show
If she be fit for Loves delights, or no;
Some will be easie, such an one elect;
But she that bears to grave and stern aspect
Take heed of her, and make her not thy Jewel.
Either she cannot love, or will be cruel.
If love assaile thee there, betime take heed,
Those wounds are dangerous that inward bleed;
He that to day cannot shake off loves sorrow,
VVill certainly be more unapt to morrow.
Love hath so eloquent and quick a tongue
That he will lead thee all thy life along;
And on a sudd [...]in claspe thee in a yoake
VVhere thou must either draw, or striving choak.
Strive then betimes, for at the first one hand
May stop a water drill that wears the sand,
But, if delayed, it breaks into a floud,
Mountaines will hardly make the passage good;
But I am out: for now I do begin
To keep them off, not heal those that are in.
First therefore (Lovers) I intend to shew
How love came to you, then how he may go.
You that would not know what loves passions be.
Never be idle, learn that rule of me.
Ease makes you love, as that o'recomes your wils,
Ease is the food and cause of all your i [...]ls.
Turne ease and idlenesse but out of door,
Loves darts are broke, his flame can burn no more.
As reeds and Willows loves the water side,
So Love loves with the idle to abide
If then at liberty you fain would be,
Love yields to labour. Labour and be free
Long sleeps, soft beds, rich vintage, and high feeding,
Nothing to do and pleasure of exceeding
Dulls all our senses, makes our virtue stupid,
And then creeps in that crafty villaine Cupid.
That boy loves ease alife, hates such as stir,
Therefore thy mind to better things prefer.
Behold thy Countries enemies in Armes,
At home love gripes thy hart in his sly charmes,
Then rise and put on armour, cast of sloath,
Thy labour may at once or'ecome them both.
If this seem hard, and too unpleasant, then
Behold the law set forth by God and men,
Sit down and study that, that thou maist know
The way to guide thy self, and others show.
Or if thou lov'st not to be shut up so,
Learn to assail the Deer with trusty bow.
That through the woods thy well mouth'd hounds may ring,
Whose Eccho better joyes, then love, will sing.
There maist thou chance to bring thy love to end,
Diana unto Venus is no friend.
The Country will afford thee means enough;
Sometimes disdain not to direct the plough;
To follow through the fields the bleating Lamb,
That mournes to miss the comfort of his Dam.
Assist the harvest, help to prune the Trees;
Graft, plant, and sow, no kinde of labour leese.
Set nets for birds, with hook'd lines baite for fish,
Which will imploy the minde and fill thy dish;
That being weary with these paines, at night
Sound sleeps may put the thoughts of love to flight.
With such delights, or labours, as are these,
Forgot to love and learn thy self to please.
But chieflly learn this lesson for my sake,
Fly from her far, some journey undertake,
I know thoult grieve, and that her name once told
Will be enough thy journey to withold:
But when thou findst thy self most bent to stay,
Compel thy feet to run with thee away.
Nor do thou wish that rain and stormy weather
May stay your steps, and bring you back together:
Count not the miles you passe, nor doubt the way,
Lest those respects should turne you back to stay.
Tell not the clock, nor look not once behind,
But fly like Lightning or the Northern winde;
For where we are too much o're matcht in might,
There is no way for safeguard, but by flight.
But some will count my lines to hard and bitter,
I must confess them hard; but yet 'tis better
To fast a while that health may be provoked,
Then feed at plenteous tables and he choaked.
To cure the wretched body, I am sure,
Both Fire and Steel thou gladly wilt endure:
Wilt thou not then take pains by any Art
To cure thy Mind, which is thy better part?
The hardness is at first, and that once past,
Pleasant and easie waies will come at last.
I do not bid the strive with witches Charmes,
Or such unholy acts, to cease thy harmes:
Ceres herself, who all these things did know,
Had never power to cure her own love so:
No, take this Medicine (which of all is sure)
Labour and absence is thy only Cure,
But if the Fates compel thee, in such fashion,
That thou must needs live near her habitation,
And canst not fly her sight, learn here of me,
That thou would'st faine, and canst not yet be free,
Set all thy Mistriss faults before thine eyes,
And all thy own disgraces well advise;
Say to thy self, that she is coveteous.
Hath ta'ne my gifts, and us'd me thus, and thus;
Thus hath she sworne to me, and thus deceived;
Thus have I hope, and thus have been bereaved:
With love she feeds my rival, while I starve,
And poures on him kisses, which I deserve:
She follows him with smiles, and gives to me
Sad looks, no Lovers, but a strangers fee.
All those Embraces I so oft desired,
To him she offers daily unrequired:
Whose whole desert, and half mine weigh'd together.
Would make mine lead, and his seem cork and feather?
Then let her go, and since she proves so hard,
Regard thy self, and give her no regard.
Thus must thou school thy self, and I could wish
Thee to thy self, most eloquent in this.
But put on greif enough and do not fear,
Grief will enforce thy eloquence t'appear.
Thus I my self the love did once expell
Of one whose coyness vex'd my soule like hell
I must confess she touch't me to the quick,
And I, that am Physitian, then was sick.
But this I found to profit, I did still
Ruminate what I thought in her was ill;
And, for to cure my self, I found away,
Some honest slanders on her for to lay:
Quoth I how lamely doth my Mistris go:
(Although, I must confess, it was not so;)
I said, her armes was crooked, fingers bent,
Her shoulders bow'd, her legs consum'd and spent:
Her colour sad, her neck as dark as night.
(When Venus might in all have tane delight)
But yet because I would no more come nigh her,
My self unto my self did thus bely her.
Do thou the like, and though she fair appear,
Think, vice to virtue often comes too neer;
And in that errour (though it be an errour)
Preserve thy self from any further terrour.
If she be round and plump, say shhe, too fat,
If brown, say black, and think who cares for that;
If she be slender, swear she is too lean
That such a Wench will wear a man out clean;
If she be red, say she's to full of bloud;
If pale her body nor her mind is good;
If wanton say, she seeks thee to devoure;
If grave, neglect her, say, she looks too sowre.
Nay if she have a fault, and thou dost know it,
Praise it, that in thy presence she may show it
As if her voice be bad, crack'd in the ring,
Never give over till thou make her sing.
If she have any blemish in herfoot,
Commend her dancing still and put her to't.
If she be rude in speech incite her talk;
If halting lame, provoke her much to walk.
Or if on instruments she have small skill,
Reach down a Viall, urge her to that still.
Take any way to ease thy own distresse,
And think those faults be, which are nothing lesse
Then meditate besides, what thing it is
That makes thee still in love to go amisse,
Advise thee Well, for as the world now goes
Men are not caught with substance but with shows;
Women are in their bodies turn'd to French,
That face and body's least part of a wench.
I know a woman hath in love been troubled
For that which Taylors make a fine near Doublet,
And men are even as mad in their desiring.
That oftentimes love Women for their tyring;
He that doth so, let him take this advice,
Let him rise early, and not being nice,
Up to his Mistris chamber let him hie,
E're she arise, and there he shall espie
Such a confusion of disorderd things,
In Bodies, Iewels, Tyres, Wyres, Lawns, and Rings,
That sure it cannot chuse but much abhor him,
To see her ly in pieces thus before him;
And find those things shut in a painted box
For which he loves her, and endures her mocks.
Once I my self had a great mind to see
What kind of things Women undressed be,
And found my sweet hart, just when I came at her,
Screwing her teeth, and dipping rags in water;
Shee miss'd her perriwig, and durst not stay,
But put it on in haste the backward way;
That had I not on th 'suddain chang'd my mind,
I had mistook and kis'd my Love behind.
So, if thou wish her faults should rid thy cares,
Watch out thy time, and take her unawares:
Or rather put the better way in proof,
Come thou not neer, but keep thy self aloof.
If all this serve not, use one medicine more,
Seek out another Love, and her adore;
But chuse out one, in whom thou well maist see
A heart inclin'd to love and cherish thee.
For as a River parted flower goes,
So, Love thus parted still more evenly flowes.
One Anchor will not serve a Vessal tall,
Nor is one book enough to fish withall,
He that can solace him, and sport with two,
May in the end triumph as others do.
Thou that to one hath shew'd thy self too kind,
Maiest in the second much more comfort find:
If one Love entertain thee with despight,
The other will embrace thee with delight:
When by the former thou art made accurst,
The second will contend t'excel the first,
And strive, with love, to drive her from thy breast:
("That first to second yields, women, know best,
Or if to yield to either thou art loath,
This may perhaps acquit them of them both,
For what one love makes odd, two shall make even,
Thus blows with blows, and fire with fire's out driven.
Perchance this course will turn thy first loves heart,
And when thine is at ease cause hers to smart.
If thy loves rival stick so nere thy side,
Think, women can Copartners worse abide.
For though thy Mistriss never mean to love thee,
Yet from the others love she'l strive to move thee?
But let her strive, she of chath vex'd thy heart,
Suffer her now to bear her self a part,
And though thy bowels burn like Aema's fire,
Seem colder far then Ice, or her desire;
Faign thy self free, and sigh not over much,
But laugh when sadly grief thy heart doth touch,
I do not bid the break through fire and flame,
Such violence in love is much to blame,
But I advise, that thou dissemble deep,
And all thy passions in thine own breast keep.
Faigne thy self well, and thou at last shalt see
Thy self as well as thou didst faigne to be.
So have I often, When I would not drink,
Sate down as one a sleep and faign'd to wink,
Till, as I nodding sate, and took no heed,
I have at last faln fast a sleep indeed.
So have I oft been angry, faigning snight,
And counterfeiting smiles have laught outright.
So love, by use doth come, by use doth go,
And he that faignes well shall at length be so.
If ere thy Mistriss promis'd to receive thee
Into her bosome and did then deceive thee,
Locking thy rival in, thee out of door,
Be not deiected, seem not to deplore,
Nor when thou seest her next take notice of it,
But passe it over, it shall turn to profit:
For if she sees such tricks as these perplex thee,
She will be proud, and take delight to vexe thee.
But if she prove thee constant in this kind,
She will begin at length some sleights to find,
How she may draw the back, and keep the still
A servile Captive to her fickle will.
But now take heed, here comes the proof of men,
Be thou as constant as thou seemest then:
Receive no messages, regard no lines,
They are but snares, to catch thee in her twines.
Receive no gifts, think all that praise her flatter;
What ere she Writes believe not half the matter.
Converse not with her servant, nor her maid,
Scarce bid good morrow lest thou be betray'd.
VVhen thou goest by her door never look back,
And though she call do not thy journey slack;
If she should send her friends to talk with thee,
[...]uffer not them too long to walk with thee.
[...] [...]ot believe one word they say is sooth,
Nor do not ask so much as how she doth;
Yea, though thy very hart should burn to know,
Bridle thy tongue, and make thereof no show;
Thy careless silence shall perplex her more.
Then can a thousand sighs sigh'd o're and o're;
By saying, thou lovest not thy loving prove not,
For he's far gon in love that sayes, I love not:
Then hold thy peace and shortly love will die,
That wound heals best that cures not by and by.
But some will say, alas, this rule is hard,
Must we not love where we do find reward
How should a tender Woman beat this scorne
That cannot, without art, by men be born;
Mistake not; I do not wish you show
Such a contempt to them whose love you know:
But where a scornful lasse makes you endure
Her slight regarding, there I lay my cure,
Nor think in leaving Love you wrong your lasse,
Who one to her content already has;
While she doth joy in him, joy thou in any,
Thou hast, as well as she, the choice of many.
Then, for thy own content, defer not long.
But cure thy self and she shall have no wrong.
Among all cures I chiefly did commend
Absence in this to be the only friend,
And so it is, but I would have ye learn
The perfect use of Absence to discern,
First then, when thou art absent to her sight
In solitariness do not delight:
Be seldome left alone, for then I know
A thousand vexing thoughts will come and go.
Fly lonely walks, and uncouch places sad,
They are the nurse of thoughts that make men mad.
Walk not to much where thy fond eye may see
The place where she did give loves rights to thee:
For even the place will tell thee of those joyes,
And turn thy kisses into sad annoyes
Frequent not woods and Groves, nor sit and muse
With armes a crosse, as foolish lovers use:
For as thou sitt'st alone thou soon shalt find
Thy mistriss face presented to thy mind,
As plainly to thy troubled phantasie
As if she were in presence, and stood by.
This to eschew open thy doors all day,
Shun no mans speech that comes into thy way.
Admit all companies, and when ther's none
Then walke thou fourth thy self and seek out one,
When he is found seek more, laugh, drink, and sing:
Rather then be alone do any thing.
Or if thou be censtrain'd to be alone,
Have not her picture for to gaze upon:
For that's the way when thou art eas'd of paine,
To wound a new, and make the sick again.
Or if thou hast it, think the painters skill
Flatter'd her face, and that she looks more ill?
And think, as thou do'st musing sit,
That she her self is counterseit like it.
Or rather fly all things, that are inclin'd
To bring one thought of her into thy minde.
View not her tokens, nor think on her words,
But take some book, whose learned wombe affords
Physick for soules, there search for some relief
To guile the time and rid away thy grief.
But if thy thoughts on her must needs be bent,
Think what a deal of precious time was spent
In quest of her; and that thy best of youth
Languish'd and died while she was void of truth.
Think but how ill [...]he did deserve affection,
And yet how long she held thee in subjection.
Think how she chang'd, how ill it did become her,
And thinking so, leave Love, and fly far from her.
He that from all infection would be free,
Must flie the place where the infected be.
And he that would from loves affection flie,
Must leave his Mi [...]s walkes and not come nigh.
"Sore eyes are got by looking on sore eyes,
"And wounds do soon from new heal'd scars-arise:
As members toucht with sulphurs do renew,
So will her sight kindle fresh flames in you.
If then thou meet'st her, suffer her go by thee:
And be afraid to let her come too night thee:
For her aspect will raise desire in thee,
And hungry men scarce hold from meat they see,
If e're she sent the letters, that ly by,
Peruse them not, they l captivate thy eye:
But lap them up and cast them in the fire,
And wish, as they waste so may thy desire.
If e're thou seem it her token, gift, or letter.
Go not to fetch them back, for it is better
That she detain a little paltry pelf,
Than thou shouldst seek for them and lose thy self.
For why? her sight will so enchant thy heart
That thou will loose thy labour, I my Art.
But if by chance there fortune such a case
Thou needs must come where she shall be in place,
Then call to minde all parts of this discourse,
For sure thou shalt have need of all thy force:
Against thou goest, cutle not thy head and haire,
Nor care whether thy band be foul or faire,
Nor be not in so neat and spruce array
As if thou meanst to make it holy day;
Neglect thy self for once, that she may see
Her love hath now no power to work on thee.
And if thy rival be in presence too,
[...]eem not to marke but do as others do;
Salute him friendly, give him gentle words,
Return all cur [...]sies that he affords:
Drink to him, carve him, give him complement,
This shall thy Mistris more then thee torment:
For she will think by this thy careless show
Thou car'st not now whether she love or no.
But if thou canst perswade thy self indeed
She hath no Lover, but of thee hath need;
That no man loves her but thy self alone,
And that she shall be lost when thou art gone;
Thus sooth thy self, and thou shalt seem to be
As far more happy taking then is she.
But if thou think'st shee's lov'd, and loves again,
[...]iell fire will seem more easie than thy pain
But cheifly when in presence thou shalt spie
The man she most affecteth standing by,
And see him graspe her by the tender hand,
And wispering close, or almost kissing stand;
When thou shalt doubt whether they laugh at thee,
Or whether on some meeting they agree;
If now thou canst hold out thou art a man,
And canst perform more then thy teacher can:
If then thy heart can be at ease and free,
I will give o're to teach, and learn of thee.
But this way I would take among them a [...]l,
I would pick out some Lasse to talk withall.
Whose quick inventions, and whose nimble wit
Should busie mine, and keep me from my fit:
My eye with all my art should be a wooing.
No matter what I said so I were doing;
For all that while my love should think at least
That I, as well as she, one love did feast.
And though my heart were thinking of her face,
Or her unkindness, and my own disgrace,
Of all my present paines by her neglect,
Yet would I laugh, and seem without respect,
Perchance, in envy thou shouldst sport with any,
Her beck will single thee from forth of many:
But, if thou canst, of all that present are,
Her conference alone, thou shouldst forbear;
For if her looks so much thy mind do trouble,
Her honied speeches will distract thee double.
If she begin once to confer with thee,
Then do as I would do, be rul'd by me:
When she begins to talk imagine streight
That now to catch thee up she lies in wait;
Then call to mind some business or affaire,
VVhose doubtful issue takes up all thy care;
That while such talke thy troubled fancies stirs,
Thy minde may worke,, and give no heed to hers,
Alas, I know mens hearts and that full soone,
By womens gentle words we are undone,
If women sigh or weep our souls are griev'd,
Or if they sweat they love they are believed,
But trust not thou to oathes if she should swear,
Nor hearty sighs, believe they dwell not there.
If she should grieve in earnest, or in jest,
Or force her arguments with sad protest,
As if true sorrow in her eye lid sat
Nay, if she come to weeping, trust not that,
For know that women can both weep and smile
With much more danger then the Crocodile.
Think all she doth is but to breed thy paine,
And get the power to tyrannize againe.
And she will beat thy heart with trouble more
Than rocks are beat with waves upon the shore.
Do not complain to her then of thy wrong,
But lock thy thoughts within thy silent tongue,
Tell her not why thou leav'st her, nor declare
(Although she aske the) what thy torments are.
Wring not her fingers, gaze not on her eye,
From hence a thousand snares and arrows fly.
No▪ let her not perceive by sighs or signes.
How at her deeds thy inward soule repines.
Seem carelesse of her speech, and do not harke,
Answer by chance as though thou didst not marke,
And if she bid the home, straight promise not,
Or break thy word as if thou hadst forgot.
Seem not to care whether thou come or no,
And if she be not earnest, do not goe.
Feigne thou hast businesse and defer the meeting.
As one that greatly car'd not for her greeting.
And as she talks cast thou thine eyes elsewhere,
And look among the Lasses that are there.
Compare their several beauties to her face,
Some one or other will her forme disgrace;
On both their faces carry still thy view,
Ballance them equally in judgment true:
And when thou find st the other doth excell
(Yet though thou canst not love it half so well)
Blush that thy passions make thee doat on her
More then on those thy judgment doth prefer;
When thou hast let her speak all that she would
Seem as thou hast not one word understood:
And when to part with thee thou seest her bent,
Give her some ordinary complement,
Such as may seem of curtesie, not love,
And so to other company remove.
This carelessness in which thou seem [...]st to be,
(Howe're in here will work this change in thee,
That thou shalt think for using her so slight
She cannot chuse but turne her love to spight:
And if thou art perswaded once she hates,
Thou wilt beware and not come neer her baits▪
But though I wish thee constantly believe
She hates thy sight thy passions to deceive;
Yet be not thou so base to hate her too,
That which seems ill in her▪ do [...]u not do;
'Twill indiseretion seem, and want of wit,
Where thou didst love, to hate in stead of it;
And thou maist shame ever to be so mated.
And joynd in love with one that should be hated?
Such kind of love is fit for Clowns and Hinds,
And not for debonaire and gentle minds;
For there can be in man no madnesse more
Then hate those lips he wish'd to kisse before?
Or loath to see those eyes, or hear that voice
Whose very sound hath made his heart rejoice?
Such acts as these much indiscretion shows,
When men from kissing turn to wish for blows,
And this their own example, shews so naught,
That when they would direct they must be taught:
But thou wilt say, for all the love I bear her,
And all the service, I am n [...]ere the nearer;
And which thee most of all doth vex like hell,
She loves a man ne [...]re lov'd her half so well:
Him she adores, but I must not come at her.
Have I not then good reason for to hate her;
I answer no, for make the case thine owne,
And in thy glasse her actions shall be showne:
VVhen thou thy self in love wert so far gone,
Say, could'st thou love any but her alone;
I know thou couldst not, though with teares and cries
These had made deaf thine eares and dim thine eyes
Wouldst thou for this that they hate thee again,
If so thou wouldst then hate thy love again:
Your faults are both alike, thou lovest her,
And she in love thy rival doth prefer:
If then her love to him thy hate procure,
Thou shouldst for loving her like hate endure:
Then do not hate, for all the lines I write
Are not adress'd to turne thy love to spight,
But writ to draw thy doting mind from love,
That in the golden mean thy thoughts may move;
In which, when once thou find'st thy felf at quiet,
Learne to preserve thy self with this good diet,

The Cònclusion.

SLeep not too much, nor longer th [...]n asleep
Within thy bed thy lazie body keep;
For when thou warm [...] awake shalt feel it soft
Fond cogitations will assaile thee oft:
Then start up early, study work, or write
Let labour (others toyle) be thy delight▪
Eat not to much for if thou much do eat
Let is not be dainty or stirring meat:
Abstain from wine although thou think it good,
It sets thy meat on fire, and stirs thy blood;
Ʋse thy self much to bath thy wanton limbs,
In coolest streames, which o're the gravel swims:
Be still in gravest company, and fly
The wanton rabble of the younger fry,
Whose lustful tricks will lead thee to delight,
To think on love, where thou shalt perish quite;
Come not as all where many women are,
But like a Bird that lately scap'd the snare,
Avoid their garuish beauty, fly with speed,
And learn by her that lately made thee bleed;
Be not to much alone, but if alone
Get thee some modest book to look upon;
But do not read the lines of wanton men,
Poetry sets thy mind on fire agen:
Abstain from Songs and Verses, and take heed
That not a line of love thou ever read.
THE LOVES OF HERO AN …

THE LOVES OF HERO AND LEANDER A mock POEM: WITH Marginal Notes, and other choice Pieces OF DROLLERY Got by heart, and often repeated by divers witty Gentlemen and Ladies, that use to walk in the New Exchange, and at their recreati­ons in Hide Park.

Vt Nectar Ingenium.

LONDON Printed Anno Dom. 1667.

The famous Greek and Asian story, Of honor'd Male and Female glory. Know all, I value this rich Gem, With any piece of C. J. M. Nay more then so, I'le go no less, Then any script of Friends, J. S,
Of young Leander, and of Hero, I now begin; Dum spiro, spero.

LEANDER being fresh and gay.
As is the leek, or green popey;
Upon a morn both clear and bright,
When Phoebus rose and had bedight
Himself with all his Golden rayes;
And pretty birds did pearch on sprayes:
When Marigolds did spread their leaves,
And men begin to button sleeves:
Then young Leander all forlorn,
As from the Oak drops the acorn;
So from his weary bed be slipt,
Or like a School-boy newly whipt;
But with a look as blithe to see,
As Cherrp ripe on top of tree:
So, forth he goes and makes no stand,
With Crab tree Cudgel in his hand.
He had not gone a mile or two,
But gravel got into his shooe:
He set him down upon a bank.
To dtp his foot, and rest his shank,
And so with finger put in shooe,
He pull'd out dirt and gravel too.
This was about the wast of day:
The middle, as the vulgar say.
Fair Here, walking with her Maid.
To do the thing cannot be staid,
Spi'd young Leander lying so,
With pretty finger picking toe.
She thought it strange to see a man
In privy walk, and then anan,
She stept behind a Pop'ting tree,
And listned for some Novelty:
Leander having cleard his throat,
Began to sing this pleasant note.
Oh. would I had my Love in Bed,
Though she nere nere so fall;
I'de fright her with my Adders head,
Ʋntill I made her swell,
Oh Hero, Hero, pity me,
With a Dildo, Dildo, Dildo dee,
Fair Hero 'gan to smile at this,
Leander rais'd 'gainst tree to piss,
He plucks me straight his Drabler out,
And with his armes claspt tree about:
O thus, quoth he, O thus — I coo'd,
Bobbing Rogero 'gainst the wood.
His blind worme Here fair did see,
His Curtal head did lean 'gainst tree:
Which fight did make her sigh and sob,
To see how he 'gainst tree did bob:
She never lov'd him till that hour,
And him she will invite to Tower.
She sate her down to ease her joynts;
The Springal he unties his points.
Fair Hero noted him a while,
And prettily began to smile,
To see a comely youth and tall,
Could not hold that which needs must fall.
Now Hero fair had spi d a vapour,
And sends her maid with piece of paper;
But he before the Maid did come,
Ha'd savd that labour with his thumb
The Maid with blush turn'd back again
Seeing her labour was in vain.
Leander having done his task,
And made an end ore hedg nine Lask,
He turn'd about, and made no bones,
But with stick't, rack for Cherry stones
So as he stooped, he spi'd coming,
A gentle Nymph, whose pace was running.
He could not tell what to suppose,
But put up shirt into his Hose:
Leander straight did follow Maid,
Untill he came where Hero laid.
Her cheek on hand, her arme on stump,
Her leg on grass, on mole-hill rump;
He with a gentle modest gate,
Plucking his Cap from off his Pate,
He thus bespake her, Lovely Peat,
Behold, with running how I sweat?
Oh, would I were that harmless stump.
Whereon thou lean'st; with that a thump,
Break from the intrals of his hose,
Hero was fearful, dreading foes,
Seeing a Cannon 'gainst her bent,
That seem'd to level at her tent:
Leander having felt the scape,
And spi'd the Maid to laugh and gape:
And then began to smel a Rat,
And stole his hand down under's hat.
Hero did note his Roger good,
And how couragiously it stood:
At length she asked him his name,
And wherefore that he thither came.
Quoth he, my dwelling is Abidos,
This is my walk Wednesdaies and Fridaies,
I love to see the Squirrils play,
With bow and bolt I them do fray.
My name is young Leander call'd,
My Father's rich, and yet hee's bald:
Enough, quoth Hero, say no more,
Mum bug, quoth he, 'twas known of yore.
Now Heroes love began to curdle,
She wisht his head under her girdle.
If so she had, I make no doubt,
But it would dash its own braine out;
And yet the Stale be neer the worse.
I may compare the head to purse,
VVhose mouth is fastned to a string,
And if the knot she chance to wring,
The money white will issue out:
He shoots most wide that hits the clout.
Now Heroes love could not be hid,
Come hither love, 'tis I that bid.
Fear not, my love, to taste my lip,
Imagine me to be thy ship:
Guide thou the Rudder with thy hand,
And in my Poop fear not to stand:
Stand to thy tackle on the batches.
My Gunner room is free from marches:
Pull up my Sail to thy main yard,
My Compass use thou, and my Card:
Lay thou my anchor where thou please,
In broad, or in the narrow Seas;
And though the foaming Ocean fre [...],
Thy anchor's safe, though it be wet.
Quoth she, close by fair Sestos stream,
(VVith that within her throat rose flegme)
Neer to that place there stands a Cloyster.
(Poor soul she coughs and voids an Oyster)
Leander stole his foot upon it,
And treads it out with vailed Bonnet,
She thanks Leander for his pains,
And for another softly strains;
Her choler laid, she said, mark well,
And understand what I thee tell;
Come then my love, in twile of night;
The time when Owl and Bats take flight;
In lower window, I will place.
A taper bright as eyes in face;
VVhich light shall be thy load star bright,
Through waves to guide thee in the night;
And with a word, like Ivy wound
About his neck, arms clasped round;
Venus did neer more dote on Don,
VVhose heat in love was cold as stone,
Then Hero did on springal young,
So down they fell together clung,
Upon a [...]imrose hill most sweet,
Their lips being joynd, their tongues did greet,
So high did grow the fragrant flowers,
Made fresh by youthful Ayril showres.
But when she saw them ly so close.
She put the f [...]owers under her nose;
And so approaching to the place.
VVhere they lay panting face to face;
So high did grow the herbs so sweet,
That cover'd them from head to feet;
Her maid then got into a tree,
VVhere plain she might these lovers see.
Leander found the watry brook,
VVhere was never fish caught with hook,
Yet bobbing there had been good store,
VVith great red wormes, some three or four.
Oh, who hath seen a strucken Deer.
Or from his eyes in water clear,
A dabled duck with dirt bemir'd
So Hero lay with pleasure tir d.
On Medlar branch the Maid doth sit,
One Medlar with a many met;
Though she was there, there was to see
Nothing but Medlars on the tree.
VVee'l leave the Maid upon a crotch,
Holding by hands. sitting on notch;
But the sweet sight did so intice,
That bough was met with her device,
And now Leander gets him up,
And clos'd the acorn and the cup.
His Cucko pintle he did thrust.
Into his Oxlip button, streight as line;
Made way into her Columbine.
His hooded hawk he then did bring her,
Which she receiv'd with Ladies finger:
His sprig of time, her branch of Rue.
His Primrose, and her Violet blue,
Leander lusty springal youth
Did now retire, 'twas so intruth:
Who, like some youthfull prodigal,
Must needs retire, having spent all.
He now returned to his friends,
Who him receiv'd with fingers ends.
The maid was greedy, though but silly.
She thought too much went by her belly;
Oh, she was wrapt with that sweet sight.
That she did long to enter fight.
Ay chance a Weaver passing by,
Looking aside, she did him spie.
Then as Adonis horse did fare,
When he beheld the Freez land Mare,
Breaking his raines ty'd to a tree,
And even as like as like may be,
Setting the runt of horse aside;
Her rubbish did excel in Pride.
She looking earnest at the Weaver,
The medler-branch sooth did deceive her.
Quoth she, alas! ah me, ah me!
What, was I born to fall from tree?
Her cloaths her head did canopy,
She was all bare from head to knee,
The men accurst, whose trade was scurvy,
Had thought the world had been turn'd [...]opsi-turvy.
Now he tread as if on eggs,
He saw a Medlar 'twixt her leggs:
I know not how they there did fettle,
But in the weaver got his Shettle:
Where we will leave Tom-trumpery.
To talk of other company.
Leander having fetcht his fees.
And Hero having covered knees.
Quoth she, I know thou art no dodger,
Sweet, have a care of trusty Roger,
My Dear, quoth she my Lover true,
Remember what you from me drew:
Remember you being full of quiblits,
Remov'd your Hates head from my giblits.
With that a far off she gan spy.
A fellow running with one eye.
He wore, because his head was bald,
And old hats crown which hid the scald.
His nose was crooked, long, and thin.
As sharp and long appear'd his chin,
His eyebrows hung upon his cheeks.
His head did grow like bed of leeks.
His back did over-look his head,
One of his armes is door nail dead:
His fingers wore for Liveries,
Naties long as Cupids Quiver is:
Upon his back he wore coat blue.
His face would make a dog to spue:
His legs did go four waies at once,
He was all skin, save some few bones.
Then Hero said, The weary hour
Is come for me to go to Towre.
Then farewel Love Leander said,
And straight she whistled for her Maid:
By this Iohn Hedghogg drew him nigh,
For that his name was, not to lye.
His one eye in her face did peer,
Quoth he, who'd thought t'have found you here?
Come, to your father you must go,
Leander trod upon his toe.
And said with biting of his thumb,
That you saw me, no words but mum:
So put his hands to pocket twice,
And gave him two Cans, or the price:
Leander could no longer keep her,
Away she goes with this hedg creeper.
He now devis'd what course to take,
Fearing that dough would be his Cake.
If it were known: So home he goes,
Passing the time in eating slows.
His mind doth run on Heroes lap,
At fathers doore he now doth rap:
Which Porter hearing turnes the lock,
With brazil staff, and comely Frock:
Where we will leave him for a while,
And unto Here turn our stile.
Fair Hero having past the Spont,
She now was come unto the Cont—
Tinent of Sestos, where she dwelt:
Her heart in passion 'gan to melt.
Unto the Tower close she rock,
And with her finger did unhook
The casement, looking forth on stream,
The Star-light 'gan on Flood too gleam:
For now brave Titan hanisht was,
Now long leg' Spiders creep on grass;
VVhen Nighti gales do sit and sing,
VVith prick 'gainst breast, and Fairyes ring:
Two houres fill'd hath been the gu:
Men now begin to go to Rut:
VVhen man in Rug doth cry in night;
Look well to locks and fire-light,
The time when Thomas with his team,
Doth lug out dung, and men 'gin dream?
VVhen City gates are shut, not open.
And Dutch men cry what all A-tlopen,
About this time fair Hero stood.
VVatching Leander in the floud.
She calls for smock, and puts off fowl,
VVashing her parts with sope in bowl.
Her foot she wash't, O pretty foot.
(But yet I am not come unto't:)
Of knee she washt the comely pan,
And now I come unto't anan;
Her thighes she washt with veins so blue,
Her Pode likewise of sable hue;
Below the bottom of her belly.
Did grow a toy of shape most selly;
Though enough to make a child a fear'd.
Two Curral lips with a black beard.
And as that beast that's kept for breed,
Lets fly her water as she has need,
VVhich done, her Funnel sh' turns out and in,
VVhich was so like, as't the same had bin;
Here will we leave her nak [...]d as nail;
And to Leander turn our tale.
Forth from his Fathers house he went,
Much like a Bird bolt being sent,
From Brazil Bow and trusly string,
VVith feathers of the gray goose wing.
He took him to a trusty rock,
And stript him to the ebon nock,
And being naked look'd like Mar:
VVith Purple scab upon his A
The seam betwixt his Cod that went,
Seem'd like to Cupids bow unbent,
The Cod his quiver, where his arrows
Did hang much like a nest of Sparrows.
But some may think this is a fable,
He was fring'd with hair from Nock to na [...]
Fego, saith he, so forth he goes,
[...] word [...]f [...]our­ [...], as [...] cr [...]e St [...]orge.
The gravel got between his toes.
Now fear'd he Neptune as a God.
Still running with his hand on Cod.
O who hath seen a wanton Roe.
Iump or'e the Fearn, indeed even so
The lively Skip-lack mounts and falls,
And still on Hato, Hero, calls.
Even with that word with speedy motion.
He leaps into the foaming Ocean:
Th' enamoured Fishes 'bout him flock,
Some play in arm-holes, some in nock;
Endimions love then shone outright;
He spi'd in Heroes Tower a light;
And in the window looking out,
A lovely face, that seem'd to pout;
By this fair Hero might discern,
Leanders head, but not his Stern,
That frisked underneath the waves;
And this is all fair Hero craves.
To see himself within her bed.
Whom billows beat now on the head.
Leander now turns on his back.
He yerks out legs and lets armes slack:
Her you must note nothing can be hid from true love,
But then above the water floated,
The true loves-lump which Hero noted.
Fair Hero had a goodly sight,
That could discern so far by night.
He was much troubled with a Shad,
That did pursue this lovely Lad.
The envious fish did so torment him,
Here the Auth or pitieth Leander & descri­beth the fish.
As had't been I, I should have sheat him;
And said, thou art a scabby fish,
To nibble at fair Heroes dish.
Hero did note how he was troubled:
The water 'bout Leander bubbled:
She looks still forth, kneeling on Mats;
Ioventus meets a shole of sprats
They him besiege on every side,
Betwixt his armes and legs they glide.
Neptune, the dreadful God of Seas.
On wom did never stick March-Fleas.
Taking in hand his good Eele Spade,
Towards Leander straight he made.
The Shad and Shole of Sprats did flye.
At sight of Neptunes angry eye.
The God then turn'd him up-side down,
And view'd his parts from head to crown:
He dally'd with his elfine locks,
And bears him up from shelf and rocks.
His cheeks, his lips, his chin he kist,
No part of Yonker Naptune mist.
Now Hero of his love made doubt,
And wisht him there in yellow clour.
His thigh so white he still would feel,
Then he would kick with horn and heel,
Quoth Neptune then, O bursome Boy.
Nay of my courting seem not coy.
Dost hear, live here my lovely Lad,
I'le give thee Cod, eat Dace and Shad;
I am as great a God as Mammon,
Thou shalt have Ling, Poor Iohn and Sammon,
And if thou sayest thou wilt not blab,
Thou shalt have lobstir Prawn and Crab.
Being Ieche­rous meat.
I tell thee I am no Curmudgeon,
Thou shalt have Rotcher, Whiting, Gudgeon.
The fish that is by Weavers eaten,
That must be first with beetle beaten.
Of Knights heard never are more Dubbins,
Thou shalt have green fish and their Gubbins;
Stock fish.
I'le bring thee where thou shalt soe Lig;
The lusty Oyster, shrimp, and Grig
Quoth he, thou swimmest without force,
And calls a Dolphin; mount this horse,
And when thy minde is somewhat laid,
Thou shalt arrive 'gainst Tow'r of Maid,
For well I know thou'rt thither going,
For all thy grinning, mocks, and mowing:
I am, quoth he, if thou beest wroth,
Keep in thy breath to cool thy broth;
And so away from him be flies.
And water flood in Neptunes eyes.
Vnkind­ness will force tears some­time.
But he again, quarel to pick,
Said, 'bide with me; quoth he ne nick.
With that the God, with ireful hand,
Cast young Leander on the sand:
Where we will leave him, to say sooth,
He had thes [...]th a [...].
Sucking his tongue with hollow tooth:
The watch of Softos Tower came down;
With Bill in hand, Mutrion on Crown.
Rug gown on back, Lanthorn in hand,
By two and two this rusty band,
Did take their way unto the Plat,
Whereas Leander naked fat.
These Sons of night did streight him spy.
Who's there, quoth one? quoth he.'tis I,
'Tis I, quoth he, is that an answer?
It is, quoth he, went thou my Grand sire:
The wisest of them then did scan,
And said sure Neighbours 'tis mersman
Nay said another, that's not so;
For this hath nails you see on Toe:
And meer man hath no feet but fins,
And this hath legs you see and shins,
Quoth one to sea I shall him hunt,
Speak if I shall, with that the Cunt —
— Stable thus spake, what words spake he,
I think, sayes one, some two or three,;
Goe then in peace and strike him down,
Then forth steps one with bill so brown.
A sowre-ey'd Knave lapt up in rug,
For manners like your Western Pug.
His name forsooth was cleiped Wharton,
He was ee'n borne at good Hogs-Norton;
This Dormouse without wit or skill,
Run at Leander with his bill.
Leander lying on his face,
Not his back, Dunce running his race:
His hinder parts bore somewhat high,
Now was he come Leander nigh:
He lifts up bill to cleave a rock,
Bill fell from hands, Nose struck in nock.
Leander with a start did rise,
And breaks his nose fast by his eyes.
This I com­mend to thee for a search­ing mile.
Oh who hath seen an archer good,
Poaking for arrow-head with wood;
So far'd this Clot-pole nose to find
And grubbed till his eyes were blind;
But all in vain, the more he strove,
The further in his nose he drove,
For th' nose indeed it stuck so fast,
He was forc't to leave it, and agast,
Runs unto Harper plain to be
There, Watchmen hired with pence three,
Who lifting up their gogling eyes,
They hear a voice, and thus it cries,
My nose, my nose: my nose and eyes.
And still tow'rd them he hasted,
Without his nose his face all blasted.
Away they ran for fear of foes,
Kib'd heeles to save they ran on toes.
For haste we leave them running still,
And to Leander turne our quill,
Hero was all this while in dumps,
Now gins he to bestir his stumps.
Wrath for to say he now did smart,
He could not pull out nose by art.
well to be short for fear of Watch,
He runs to Tow'r and puls the latch.
Divinest Hero was in bed,
The dore being ope, he in doth tread:
Yet for no ear should hear him travel;
From feet he wipes the stony gravel:
So goes me on neerer and neeer,
And with one eye did underpeer her.
Night being warm the cloaths were off,
Sooth 'twas enough to catch a cough:
Leander thought it was no matter,
Though teeth within his head did chatter.
One hand he put upon her toe;
The other on her buggle boe,
Quoth he thus softly. Hero Hero;
Away quoth she, and come no neer [...] oh,
Yet thus she said when she was waked.
Fye upon pride when men go naked:
A glimmering taper stood by bed;
Which in and our did put his head:
And by that light she did him know,
Standing like image of Rye-dough.
The well-hung vouth then spake this word,
Quoth be I must lay knife a board,
I've swum, quoth he, through thick and thin,
Brine waves hath beat both neck and chin.

Leander in her Haven casts Anchor.

He rides secure in Heroes rode,
Now he begins to lay on load
I'm come through watch and their brown bats.
Now Hero feels his twittle cum twats.
Alas poor soul she did not strive;
Leander at her rump let drive.
He now forgot, as I suppose,
That in his hobler there was nose.
I'm come, said he, from side of shore,
Where lowsie beggars sat of yore.
And now the beggar makes me sing
The love of the Cawphetuan King:

Leanders tale,

On this green bank he first did spy,
One sunny day, the beggar lye,
Displaying to fair Thoebus fire,
The Marigold of Loves desire.
To Marigold I it compare,
'Cause twas the colour of her haite,
Which still to Titan was display'd,
In window King stands rich array'd,
And spies by chance the beggar lye,
Back to the ground, face to the Sky.
Then like the Snake She cast her Skin,
Whose amel'd body tumbled in
Her mothers lap in apron green,
And covered that, it was not seen:
Her hair in goodly elf-locks hung,
All down her shoulders, and among
The roots of it, the Dandriff white,
Like hoared frosts shining by night.
When Phoebe and her silver train,
The Yard, Orien. and Charles Wain.
Look down upon the Spires of grass;
So Sprinkled was the head of Lass.
She wreath'd her body on one side,
Her leggs a mole-hill did divide,
Cawphetua's mouth did water shed,
Fancies and toyes were in his head.
It might have been any mans case.
Under her arme did Cupid lye.
And shot Cawphetua in the eye.
Who closely stood in window peeping
Whilst beggar poor on bank lay sleeping,
He took his love ere she did rise,
And sung this note with tears in eyes.
Oh King, what art thou but a bubble
That swims in stream so swift;
Thy joy soon turns to grief and trouble,
Much like a boat at drift;
That severed is from poop of Ship,
That wanders in the Ocean;
The beggar turn'd upon her hip,
Then lay still without motion.
He takes me his prospective glass▪
My passion shall appear in print,
Make readie press good Hedger,
Say that Cawphetua saw a din [...];
And fill in love with beggar.
Ah me poor King! I'm now a captive made
To one that hath no living, land, or trade.
What shall I say in this? what shall I do?
Shall I love her to foot hath neer a shooe?
I am a King, my state in State is mighty,
Shall I love her who hath sold Aqua-vitae?
My rich bloud boyles by this so sweet espial.
Even like a Boar, so chafes my Collop Royal,
He calls for page, and him for water sends;
This way and that; he the proud Grissel bends;
The reason why his bobber stood so stiff,
Vncover'd lay the silly beggars cliff.
As he was standing his full view to take.
He spy'd her stretch, and stretching gan to wake:
Being big with Thomas, she held up one leg,
And like the Ant, on mole hill laid her egg.
Then did she rise with such a rude behaviour,
That Royal nose took winding of that savour;
Which made him say, behold I come to win thee,
Now I perceive that thou hast some thing in thee,
Down, down he goes the beggar to behold,
And as he went he calls for purse of Gold.

The end of this passion.

The beggar now is come to gate of King,
To beg for bread and meat, or bread and ling.
Which when the King beheld within his Portal,
Come, grass and hay, quoth he, we are all mortal▪
She with a crutch did cry, God save his grace,
The honest King bad all forsake the place.
Which when the Lords and all the rest were gone,
Quoth he speak beggar and speak words but one.
Wilt thou forsake thy beggars life,
And leave off wearing patche [...]?
Thou shalt no more wear string in knife,
He throws the beggar catches:
Deer take this purse; nay be not coy;
The simple mute doth stand,
Quoth she, my Liege, Per dona moy,
So fell on knee and hand.
Thou shalt, quoth he, I do not mock.
If thou wilt take my offer,
Have stocking, shoo, and Holland smock,
Eke gold to put in coffer,
Thy rooms they shall be hung with arras,
Head stuck with silver pins:
Thou shalt no more sell Rosa-solis,
Nor buy the Coney-skins.
But first resolve me truly this,
Hath any tag or rag
Put Probe into thy Orifice,
Or water'd thy black Nag?
No, doughty Lieve, I'le tell you true,
Though poor, I have been chaste;
No man did ever here imbure.
Pointing beneath her waste,
With that he rook her by the hand,
Which was by Thoebus parcht;
Quoth he arise, arise and stand:
To lodge of King they marcht,
Which when they came in room call'd private,
None but themselves alone.
A lowsie beggar he lets drive at,
'Twas dark, her name was Ioan.
Dear Liege, quoth she; away, quoth he;
So layes her down on back;
Tack by reason it would hold tack.
And with his finger he doth not linger.
But pulls me out his tack.
His Tassel gentle he did put
Into her homely Mwe,
His Rounsifal into her Cob-nut,
In bladder were Beans blue.
He laid her head against a stoop,
She knew well his pretence:
He taught the beggar her lyripoor,
And paid her odd five pence.
He used art with both his thumbs,
Quoth she, dread Lord, no more;
His Curtal tickled her tooth-gums,
Yet open stood the door:
With finger wet came in a Lord,
Who heard a noise in house;
Sayet beggar now, dread Lord, no word,
But peace and catch a mouse.
The noble spy'd them very soon,
And fell low on his knee,
He saw the King in his hony-moon,
And all to be shitten was he,
Quoth baron bold, Cawphetua then,
Your Grace may have down paller;
Now he regards not Nobleman,
Her Wall [...] was hid under her,
But too't he goes ding-wallet.
Her Hockly-hole Kings should abhorre,
Being man was in that place;
He puts in Glasting-uri-core
Before the young mans face:
Well, Noble man at last 'gan call,
Quoth King to Lord, go down,
And bring me here a Camphite ball,
I'le wash from head to crown.
And as you go give order streight,
Unto the Cook for supper;
(Thine ear, 'tis matter of much weight)
Bring brimstone and sweet butter.
Go get thee gone, and bring with speed
Those things I have appointed;
Of Robes bring store, truth is indeed,
I'le have my King anointed.
Quoth Hero, What became of Yors,
Sayes he, Omnia vincit amer.
He was o'recome and glad to flye,
To place where muffled he doth lye.
Leander now made end of tale,
Without shirt lineing, or shirt male:
Indeed his tale was well compact,
For every word he made an act.
Her legs Were ty'd in true loves knot,
On top of back, full well I wot:
Poor soul she lay like cheek of Oxe
Stu'd in a pot, or reeking Socks.
The lark now sings with cheerfull note,
And morn was come as gray as groat:
O day, quoth she, to love most cruel?
Hero had mess of water gruel,
Which stood by bed before provided,
And hand of Here streight it guided
To mouth of Puny to make strong,
The knot of loves white-leather thong?
Then up he flings, and with a start,
Quoth naked man, I must depart:
First 'twixt her Pillars, truth to say,
Leander wrote, Neultra.
No sooner he from bed did jump,
Out flew the nose with such a thump,
That Heroes Father in next room,
Did leave his bed and in did come.
Leander hears the man of age,
Who call'd for sword unto his page;
He se [...]ing him come with much amazement;
He runs, ann creeps out at the casement:
His Calla-when-pin-Cough indeed,
Was much indangered by his speed,
For hook of window got it fast,
And held him there till all agast,
Fair Hero rose and went unto him,
And with her finger did undo him.
He down does fall without a word:
At window struck old man with sword,
Who seeing on floor there lye a nose,
Quoth he I ve paid him I suppose:
This was the time when Fryars gray,
Did ring to Matrins break of day:
When Poets good do wake to plot,
And drunkard leaves his cloak for shot;
When Carriers put on shooes and hose,
And Maids do emptie stooles call'd close;
That was the time when Leander fell.
From forth of window, truth to tell.
He had forsook his divine Pillows,
To fall among the rageing billows.
Blew beard call'd Neptune, being mad
For the disgrace he lately had;
This is the truth I need not blab;
Turn'd young Leander to a Crab:
And made the Proverb, sure 'twas so,
That love must creep whet't cannot go.
And because his dwelling was Abidos,
He was doom'd ever to creep side-waies.
Poor Heroes sorrow now redoubles,
The fourth part of a bushed
He Ieft her in a peek of troubles;
And senseless man came to the Tow'r,
One sense he wants having but four.
Now smel my meaning if you can,
With him came Roger, Thomas, Iohn;
And all the rest of Mars his crue,
VVhose eyes were black, some gray, none blue,
This sheepshead-rable comes and knocks,
As they would break ope all the locks,
Fair Heroes Father in a rigor,
Hearing that noise, runs down like Tygor,
Quoth he, who's there? what, are ye drunk?
And still the more they stir'd, they stunk,
The Watch, sayes one, open the Gate,
The Watch sayes he, having a shrewd pate.
He ope's the door, and standeth still,
And spake these words. What is your will?
Our will, quoth they, what call you that?
And spi d the nose pin'd in his hat,
Which when they all of them espi'd,
This, this is he, strike down they cri'd,
Then round about they him inviron,
And up they lift their rusty Iron.
He brake away, and bad them base,
And after they did run apace:
And ran direct, as I suppose,
For still the man did follow his Nose:
He follow'd close with his defect,
And still his nose was his prospect.
Oh, had they catcht him, them among,
And all their bills at him they flung.
But note the pitty of the Gods
Extended to these Hodmandods,
And first for him that lost his nose,
(The truth to you I will disclose;)
Because his face did seem to scowle,
The Gos transform'd him to an Owl.
And for this was i'th dead of night,
They doom'd him never by day-light
To shew his being; so God Pan
Made the first Owl of a Watchman:
And when he thought to cry, my nose;
To whit, to he [...], he shreekt, and up he rose,
And being compelled by th' angry God,
A fa­mous Surgeon in his time.
He clapt his wings and flew to Tod,
Yet the Gods fury was not done,
They were transform'd each mothers son,
Sayes one, Ye Gods, is it your will?
And spake no more, his mouth turn'd bill:
And cause the Owl he should not mock,
The Gods made him the first Wood-cock:
He wears the form of a Watchman still,
And will for aye, witness his bill.
One Watchman he did stay behind,
And he was turn'd to buzzard blind:
The last was thinking how to run,
Saying, a fair thred they have spun:
Because he said these words in spight,
He liv'd and dy'd a bird of night:
His ill luck sure I must not smother,
He did watch that night for another.
And for because his shape was ill,
He never flies but in the twill—
In memory of this mischance,
The Retord you may see in France,
Upon each door where they must watch
In chalk they set on door or hatch,
The very form of a birds foot:
In England they come necre [...] to't,
For the three claws you plainly see,
That is for every claw a peny.
But now to old man in a trance,
We must proceed to his mischance:
And to his grief, and much misprision,
We'l tell what hapned in his vision:
There came to him, as't were in sight,
A lovely Lady but no Knight.
The Lady seem'd for Lover lost,
To be on bed of Netle tost;
Of Netle, worse! for to the quick.
She often had indur'd the prick,
Without complaining, and poor ape,
To her it seem'd but as a Iape.
As Poet-witty well could say,
A sport, a me [...]iment, a play.
But she poor Lady almost frantick,
A [...] you may see in arras antick;
With hair dishelv'd rooms about,
Vowing to find Leander out,
And get him in where no base patch.
With painted stuff, no rugged watch;
No nor her Father with head hoary,
Should come to interrupt the story,
That is she meant for her delight,
Leander in her book should write.
And blame her not to rave with randing;
For she had lost her understanding,
Which standing stiffly to her, might have put,
Some comfort to have cur'd her cut.
But I too far digress, this fearful sight,
The aged father from his wits did fright.
Or them from him, I know not whether:
But sure I am they went not both together.
A mad old man he was, and Lo he dy'd,
Fair Hero like the wench that cry d,
Till she was turned to a stone.
For her Leander made her moan.
But when she heard, poor silly drab;
That he was turn'd into a crab?
She then fell down as flat as Flownder,
Her Floodgates ope [...]t, and her own water drown'd her.

The EPITAPH.

They both were drown'd, whilest Love and Fate contended;

And thus they both pure flesh, like pure fish ended.

THE MOCK ROMANS.

Dwarfe.
FLy from the forest Squires; fly trusty spark:
I fear like Child, whom Maid hath left in dark.
Squire,
O coward base, whose fear will never sin,
Till't shrink thy heart as small as head of pin:
Lady, with pretty finger in her eye,
Laments her Lampkin Knight, and shall I fly?
Is this a time for blade to shift for's self,
When Gyant vile calls Knight a sneaksng elf?
This day (a day as fair as heart could wish)
This Gyant stood on shore of Sea to fish:
For angling Rod he took a sturdy Oak,
For line a Cable, that in storm ne're broke:
His hook was such, as heads the end of Pole,
To pluck down house e're fire consumes it whole:
His hook was baited with a Dragons tail,
And then on Rock he stood, to bob for whale:
Which streight he caught, and nimbly home did pack
With ten cart load of dinner on his back.
So homeward bent, his eye too rude and cunning.
Spies Knight and Lady, by a hedg a sunning,
That Modicum of meat he down did lay,
(For it was all he eat on Fasting day.)
They come in's rage, he spurns up huge tree roots
Now stick to Lady Knight, and with boots.
Enter Gyant, Knight, Damsell
Gyant,
BOld recreant wight: what face did hither call thee,
To tempt his strength that has such power to man thee.
How durst thy puling Damsel hither wander?
What was the talk you by yond hedg did mander.
Damsel,
Patience sweet man of might: alas Heaven knows.
we onely hither came to gather slows.
And bullies two or three, for truth to tell ye,
I've long'd six weeks, with them to fill my belly.
I' fecks, if you'l believe it, nought else was meant sure
By this our jaunt, which Etrans call adventure.
Gyant,
Shall I grow meek as babe, when every Trull is
So bold to steal my slows, and pick my bullies?
Knight,
Fear not let him storm on and still grow rougher,
Thou that art bright as candle clear'd by snuffer,
Canst neer endure a blemmish or eeclips,
From such a hook-noss'd, foul-mouth'd blobber lips:
Ere he shall boast he us'd thee thus to his people,
I'le see him first hang'd as high as any steeple.
Gyant,
If I but upward heave my Oaken twig,
I'le teach thee play the Tomboy, her the Rig,
Within my forrest bounds; what doth she ail,
But she may serve as Cook to dress my Whale?
In this her damsels [...]ire, and robe of Sarsener,
She shall souse bore, fry tripes, and wild hogs harsnet.
Knight,
Monster vile, thou mighty ill bred Lubber,
Art thou not mov'd to tee her whine and blubber [...]
[Page 117]
Shall Damsel fair (as thou must needs confess her)
With Canvas apron, cook thy meat at Dresser?
Shall she that is of soft and pliant mettle,
(Whose fingers silk would gaul) now scowre a Kettle?
Though not to scuffle given, now I'le thwart thee,
Let Bl [...]wze thy daughter serve for shillings forty.
'Tis meeter I think, such ugly Baggages
Should a Kitching drug for yearly wages.
Then gentle she, who hath been bred to stand
Neer chair of Queen, with Island shock in hand,
At questions and commands all night to play,
And Amber possits eat at break of day;
Or score out Husbands in the charcoal ashes▪
With Country Knights, not roring Country Swashes.
Hath been her breeding still, and's more fit far,
To play on Virginals and the gittar,
Then stir a Sea-coal fire, or seum a Cauldron,
When thou'rt to break thy fast on a Bulls chaldron.
Gyant,
Then I perceive I must lift up my Pole,
And deal your Love rich noddle such a dole,
That every blow shall make so huge a clatter.
Men ten leagues off shall ask Ha! what's the matter?
Damsel,
Kind grumbling youth! I know that thou art able.
And want of breeding makes the proud to squable;
Yet sure thy nature doth compunction mean,
Though (las!) thy mother was a sturdy Queane▪
Let not meek Lovers kindle thy fierce wrath,
But keep thy blustring breath to cool thy broth.
Knight,
Whine not my love, hi [...] fury streight will waste him,
Stand off a while, and see how I'le lambast him.
Squire▪
Now look to't Knight, this such a desperate blade is,
In Gaule he swing'd the valiant Sir Arma [...]is.
Dwarf [...],
With bow now Cupid shoot this Son of Punic,
With Cross-bow else or Pellet out of Trunk!
Gyant,
I'le strike thee till thou sink where thy abode is,
Of weights that sneak below, call'd Antipodes.
Enter Merlyn,
My art shall turne this combat to delight,
They shall unto fantastick musick fight.
SOme Christian people all give ear,
Unto the grief of us.
Caus'd by the death of three children dear;
The which it hapned thus.
And eke there befel an accident.
By fault of a Carpenters Son,
Who to Saw chips his sharp Axe lent,
Woe worth the time may Lon
May London say. Wo worth the Capenter,
And all such Block-head fools.
Would he were hang d up like a Serpent here,
For jesting with edg tools.
For into the chips there fell a spark,
Which put out in such flames,
That it was known into Southwark,
Which lives beyond the Thames.
For Lot the bridg was wondrous high
With water underneath,
O're which as many fis [...]es fly,
As birds therein doth breath.
And yet the fire consum'd the bridge▪
Not far from place of landing.
And though the building was full big,
It fell down not with standing.
And eke into the water fell,
So many pewter dishes,
That a man might have taken up very well,
Both boyld and reafled Fishes,
And that the Bridge of London Town,
For building that was sumptuous,
Was All by fire Half burnt down,
For being too contumptious,
And thus you have all, but half my song,
Pray list to what comes after;
For now I have cool'd you with the Fire,
I'le warm you with the water.
I'le tell you what the Rivers name is,
where these children did side a,
It was fair Londons swiftest Thames;
That keeps both time and Tide a.
All on the tenth of Ianuary,
To the wonder of much people:
Twas frozen o're; that well 'twould bear,
Almost a Countrey Steeple.
Three Children sliding thereabouts,
Upon a place too thin,
That so at last it did fall out,
That they did all fall in.
A great Lord there was that laid with the King,
And with the King great wager makes:
But when he saw he could not win,
He sight, and would have drawn stakes,
He said it would bear a man for to slide,
And laid a hundred pound;
The King said it would break, and so it did,
For three Children there were drown'd.
Of which ones head was from his Should
Ers stricken, whose name was Iohn,
Who then cry'd out as loud as he could▪
O Lon-a Lon-a-London.
Oh l tut-tut t [...]rn from thy sinfull race,
Thus did his speech decay:
I wonder that in such a case,
He had no more to say.
And thus being drownd, a lack, a lack.
The water run down their throats,
And stopt their breaths three hours by the clock,
Before they could get any boats.
Ye Parents all that Children have,
And ye that have none yet;
Preserve your children from the grave,
And teach them at home to sit.
For had these at a Sermon been,
Or else upon dry ground,
Why then I would have never been seen,
If that they had been drown'd.
Even as a Huntsman tyes his dogs,
For fear they should go from him,
So tye your children with severities clogs,
Unty'um, and you l undo um,
God bless our noble Parliament,
And rid them from all fears,
God bless all th' Commons of this Land,
And God bless some o'th' Peers.

The PIGG.

1
I Sing not reader of the fight
'Twixt Bailiffs and that doubghty Knight
Sir Ambrose, sung before:
Nor of that dismal Counter scuffle.
Nor yet of that Pantofle,
They say the Virgin wore.
2
No Turkey cock with Pigmies fray,
Or whether then did get the day,
Nor yet T [...] C [...]riots shooes;
Nor yet the swyne-fac'd Maidens head,
Ith' Netherlands they say was bred,
Is subject of my Muse.
3
But in Rime Doggril I shall tell,
What danger to a Pigg befell,
As I can well rehearse;
As true as if the Pig could speak
On Spit, in Prose would either squeak.
Or grunt it out in verse.
4
A boysterous rout of armed Host
Iust as the Pig was ready rost,
Rusht in at doors, [God bless us!
The leader of this warlike rout,
Strong men at armes, and stomack stout,
I w [...]on was Captain Bessus.
[...]
A Welch man once was whipt there,
Until he did beshit him,
His Cuds-plutter a-Nail,
Could not prevail,
For he whipt the Cambro-brittain▪
Still doth, &c.
A Captain of the Train'd band,
Sirnam'd Cornelius Wallis:
He whipt him so sore,
Both behind and before:
He notcht his Ass like Tallis,
Still doth, &c.
For a piece of Beef and Turnip,
Neglected with a Cabbage.
He took up the Male Pillion,
Of his bouncing maid Gillian,
And sowe't her like a baggage.
Still doth, &c.
A Porter came in rudely,
And disturb'd the humming Concord:
He took up his Frock,
And paid his nock,
And sawc'd him with his own Cord.
Still doth he cry, &c.

GILL upon GILL.
OR Gills Ass uncas'd, unstript unbound,

SIR, did you me this Epistle send,
Which is so vile and lewdly pen'd,
In which no line I can espy
Of sense, or true Orthography▪
So slovenly it goes,
In Verse and Prose.
For which I must pull down your hose▪
O good Sir then cry'd he,
In private let it be,
And do not sawce me openly,
Yes Sir, I'le sawce you openly,
Before Sound and the Company;
And that none at thee may take heart,
Though thou art a Batchelour of Art:
Though thou hast paid thy Fees
For thy degrees.
Yet I will make thy ass to sneer;
And now I do begin
To thresh it on thy skin,
For now my hand is In. is In.
First for the Theam [...] which thou me sent.
Wherein much non-sense thou didst vent;
And for that barbarous piece of Greek▪
For which in Garth [...]us thou didst seek,
And for thy faults not few,
In tongue Hebrew:
For which a Grove of Birth is due;
Therefore me not beseech:
To pardon now thy breech:
For I'le be thy Ass Leach, Ass Leach:
Next for the offence that thou didst give.
When as in Trinity thou didst live,
And hadst thy Ass in Wad [...]am Coll. malt,
For bidding sing,
When he was Clark of Wadham, and being by his place to begin▪ Psair▪ he [...]ang [...] of Church, bidding the people sing to the praise and [...]one of God. Q [...]cunque vult.
Q [...]cunque vult
[...]

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Text Creation Partnership. Searching, reading, printing, or downloading EEBO-TCP texts is reserved for the authorized users of these project partner institutions. Permission must be granted for subsequent distribution, in print or electronically, of this EEBO-TCP Phase II text, in whole or in part.