De arte amandi ; and, The remedy of love, Englished Ovid ; as also, The lovs [sic] of Hero & Leander, a mock-poem ; together with choice poems and rare pieces of drollery.

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 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 • esSo 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 rageNeither 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: NoteYet 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 ſlenderAbout 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 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.

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 buſhedHe 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 • ▪ 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. 〈4 pages missing〉 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 〈1 page missing〉