VVits labyrinth, or, A briefe and compendious abstract of most witty, ingenious, wise, and learned sentences and phrases together with some hundreds of most pithy, facetious and patheticall complementall expressions / collected, compiled and set forth for the benefit, pleasure or delight of all, but principally the English nobility and gentry by J.S., gent.

VVits labyrinth, or, A briefe and compendious abstract of most witty, ingenious, wise, and learned sentences and phrases together with some hundreds of most pithy, facetious and patheticall complementall expressions / collected, compiled and set forth for the benefit, pleasure or delight of all, but principally the English nobility and gentry by J.S., gent.

Table of contents

Title page

TO The Illustrious and Generous, the Nobility and Gentry of the Kingdom of England. I. S. wisheth all encrease of Honour, Happinesse, and Prosperity.

A Briefe and compendious abstract of most witty, Ingenious, wise, and learned SENTENCES and PHRASES.

MOST PITHY, FACETIOUS, and PATHETICALL COMPLEMENTALL EXPRESSIONS.

The Errata.

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VVits Labyrinth.

OR, A briefe and compendious Abstract of most witty, ingenious, wise, and learned SENTENCES and PHRASES.

Together with some hundreds of most pithy, facetious, and patheticall, complementall Expressions.

Collected, compiled, and set forth for the benefit, pleasure, or delight of all, but principally the English Nobility and GENTRY.

Aut prodesse, aut delectare potest.

By I. S. GENT.

LONDON, Printed for M. Simmons, 1648.

TO The Illustrious and Generous, the Nobility and Gentry of the Kingdom of England. I. S. wisheth all encrease of Honour, Happinesse, and Prosperity.

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Right Honourable,

I Know it will appear strange & preposterous, to many, to see a Poem of this nature, in these distracted and confused times (when scarce the iron hand of Warre is ceast: but like a fearefull and prodigious Commet stil hangs over us, threatning ruine and destruction to this royall Kingdome) set forth to the view and Censure of the World. For, noble Gentlemen, I must ingenuously confesse, it had beene much more sutable to the Times, had it had its birth in our Halcyon dayes, when blest peace and prosperity reigned in our happy Albion: but since 'tis so unhappy to breathe life in this unnaturall age, let it begge your favourable and candid censures: not of Abortive, [Page] but a Posthumus. And now to vindicate my self from foule detraction, which the envious and carying Zoylusses & Momusses of all ages (by their virulent tongues & pens, to prejudice and traduce the workes of others) have too frequently, but most falsely cast upon Writers: I shall endeavour to give you some satisfactory reasons of publishing this my Pamphlet.

As first, because I never heard or read of any booke of this subject, set forth in the English tongue, although in all other languages they are most frequent.

The next is for the benefit, pleasure, or delight of the Reader, especially now in these sad and disconsolate times, it being a great refreshment, and recreation to the minde of man, (by way of divertion) to take him off from the consideration of these danger-threatning times, and entertaine his thoughts, sometimes with sweete variety of matter, according to that saying: Interpone tuis, interdum gaudea curis, ut posses animo, quemvis sufferre laborem.

And lastly, although this Poem is but a collection of divers sentences, phrasers, &c. as appeareth in the Title, (not methodically composed or digested) it being unpossible in a subject of this nature, so to doe) but promiscously intermixt with variety and delight) which many yeares since in times of my better prosperity. I gathered out of some hundreds of Authors, never having the least thought of putting it to Presse. Yet now, by the importunity, or rather the commands of some noble friends, to whose endearements for their noble favours, I owe my gratitude: I have adventured, or rather presumed, (under your noble patronage and protection) to put it into print: And noble Gentlemen, let mee indulge your favours, not to reade it with [Page] prejudicate opinions, for then I know you will doome it to scorne and your contempt: but that you will behold it, with a gracious and favourable aspect, rather pittying then censuring the Author; and where you finde it worthlesse and unusefull, you would bury it in the Ocean of your goodness, thereby you will oblige me for to be,

Your Honours in all humble observance and duty, I. S.

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A Briefe and compendious abstract of most witty, Ingenious, wise, and learned SENTENCES and PHRASES.

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Vertue illustrates true Nobility.

Bounty and mercy grace Nobility.

Bounti's the badge of true Nobility.

Reputation is the soule of Honour.

THE sicknesse of the bodie, oft-times proves physick to the soule.

Afflictions are preparatives for grace.

Vertu's more worth, then all the hidden treasures of the earth.

Mercie's the object of a Christian.

Sinne and grace are incompatible.

This world's a moment to eternity.

All earthly treasures are but vanities.

Heaven is the object of the soule of man.

Content is the crown of earthly happinesse.

Vertue and grace runne parallel with Heaven.

All qualities that spring from vertue, have their reward.

[Page]Where beauty is, there needs no other plea.

Riches are lent for to relieve the poor.

He that relieves the poor, gives almes to Heaven.

Bounty and liberality consists, not in feasting the rich, but feeding the poore.

Hee that contemns the poore may forget Heaven.

The rich mans bounty, is the poore mans Exchequer.

To feede the hungry, cloath the naked, and relieve the poore, is a Sacrifice heaven is well pleased with.

The sicknesse of age is avarice, the errours of youth profanenesse.

The memory of past misfortunes augments the present happinesse.

Revenge sweetens disgrace.

Innocence is the safest armour.

Storms divided abate their force.

Melancholy is the nurse of frenzie.

Worth should ever be admired, and vertue lov'd.

Conquests hard got, are sweete and glorious.

Let vertue be the object of your will.

Desperate torments must have desperate cures.

Mans greatest extreamity, is Heavens best opportunity.

Grant mee gracious heaven, the head of Solomon, and the heart of David.

He is Master of any mans life, that contemnes his owne.

Whosoever writes a modern history, and follows truth too neare the heeles, it may chance strike out his teeth.

No man can so change himself, but that his heart [Page] may bee sometimes seene at his tongues end.

The minde ought to have reason, to remember, that passion ought to be her vassall, not her Master.

Hee's of a poote spirit that declines every mans anger.

The covetous man relishes any thing that comes of free cost.

Money comes neere the nature of a spirit it is so subtle, it opens lockes, drawes curtaines, buyes wit, sells honestly.

Affection flowes uncompelled.

Your feares abuse you.

Shew not a guilt of so much weakenesse in you.

It is in vaine to interrupt our fate.

What is decreed above, becomes not mortalls to dispute.

Redeeme your selfe to liberty againe.

Ambition like a torrent ne're lookes back.

Ambition is the last affection a great minde can put off.

Let not faith seeme cheaper for springing out of penitence.

The dignity of truth is lost by much protesting, few are vertuous when reward's away.

They are petty crimes are punish't, great rewarded.

Attempts begun with danger, still end with glory.

As crimes doe grow, justice should rowze her selfe.

Better thy fortunes should forsake thee, then thy vertues.

Let falshood flee thy breast.

Let not hatred harbour in thy bosome.

Adde not to the ill you have done,

[Page]Resolution ever waits the noble mind.

Obey necessity, and lick the Lyons feet till happier times.

By your delayes, you hasten miseries.

Betray not your selfe to filthy lust, or base contempt.

Let revenge sleepe.

Laugh not at aged sorrow.

Destract not from your self.

Sell not your liberty.

Sell not your soul for such a vanity as eye-pleasing beauty.

Make tryall of your vertues.

No hell so low, which lust and women cannot lead unto.

Into how sad a toyle ambition and swift ryot run into, when mean content sits low, happy and secure.

No course that's violent, can be secure.

Smooth runs the brooke, whereas the streame is deepest.

The Foxe barks not, when he would steal the lamb.

As opposite to every good, as truth and falshood.

The smallest worm will turne, being troden on.

Things ill got, have ever bad successe.

The common people are like summer flies.

Suspition alwayes haunts the guilty mind.

The worlds a theatre of theft, great rivers rob the smaller brooks, and them the Ocean.

Close as a Usurers purse.

Let reason cleer your sight.

Let not time out-strip you.

Delay draws on danger.

[Page]Most things are what they seeme, not as they be, all is opinion.

Sometimes at a banquet, more ground is got, then at a bloody battle.

Nature will never violate her selfe.

Were it a tempest in a showr of gold, I would endure it.

One ill succeeds another, untill the mouth of mischiefe be made up.

Gold can make hard the softest conscience.

Ascribe not that to merit, which was meer fortune.

Rub not old wounds, to bleed againe.

Adde not affliction to misery.

Wound not reputation so

Be a friend to truth.

It's a meere comment of your owne.

Fortune is blind, and sees not wher's desert.

Bootlesse is complaint where there's no remedy.

Love being resisted, growes impatient.

Fortune is yet your friend.

Time is the author, both of truth and right.

Time is the child of truth.

Violence leaps forth like Thunder, wrapt in a bal of fire.

Seek not to encrease your sorrow.

Nourish not jealous thoughts.

Beauty invites temptation.

Rouze up your sleeping vertue.

I am circled round with danger, and no hope left to redeeme me.

They are empty men that trumpet their owne deserts.

[Page]You trumpet your owne shame.

A Virgins speech must always be ushered with fear

My very thoughts (I hope) are wing'd with innocence.

I must exact your utmost care in this.

From a pure spring, sweet rivers ever flow.

Gold's not too dear a sollary for such a hazard.

Burst not with envy.

Vertue's turn'd hand-maid to blind fortune.

Honest simplicity and truth are the agents I'le employ.

I wish my secret thoughts lay open to discovery.

It's no time now to play with your good fortune.

Equall nature made us all of one mould▪

'Tis not fortune, but your folly.

You shall runne no such hazard.

Torment me not with expectation.

I desire not my deepe designes.

True loves a servant, brutish lust a tyrant.

Duty must not assume the name of merit.

I am paid for all my sufferings.

Have all your wishes.

Disdaine not vertue though clad in rags.

Y'are drunke with a false opinion of your owne worth.

Thinke not with Giant arms to fathom earth.

Flatter not your selfe with such false hopes.

Redeeme the forfeit of your fault.

A free confession of a fault wins pardon.

Laugh not at danger.

Let not your joy oppresse you.

Play not with anger, that will consume you.

[Page]'Tis above wonder, undeard of violence.

All my poore fortunes are at stake, and I must run the hazard.

I have long fed on the bread of sorrow.

Comfort's a stranger to me.

The amazed Sunne hides his face behind a maske of clouds.

In my sufferings, all sorrow's comprehended.

These are but Chymera's of your jealous feares.

I have not faith enough for to believe you.

I must not credit impossibilities.

The torrent of your joyes will o're-whelme you.

Temperance is the Queen of vertues.

You describe a wonder a rare temper.

You wrack me beyond patience.

Cherish desert in all.

I walk upon a bridge of glasse.

I would not live slave to jealousie for the world.

Such cruelty would force a savage to compassion.

Men pitty beasts of rapine, if o're-matcht.

You beare it with a Saint-like patience.

Adde not fuell to that fire that burnes too hot already.

Where cruelty reignes, there dwells nor love nor honour.

Will you assist me in my undertakings.

It falls not in the compasse of my understanding.

Be not transported thus with grife and sorrow.

This confirmes what before I doubted.

Can your charity descend so low as to look on my sufferings?

Be not too indulgent to your folly.

[Page]Your malice cannot reach me.

You must of force now use your patience.

Y'are wrong'd beyond a cowards sufferance.

All circumstances meet to give it credit.

Vertue though in rags, may challenge more, then vice with all her greatnesse.

You'l pluck a mountaine of disgrace upon you.

You are all made of passion.

I'le teach my Spaniel to howle in better language.

You forget the dignity of the place.

You cannot free your selfe from these aspersions.

I cannot cloath my thoughts in better language.

Like a rocke I'le beare off all temptations.

You may as soone wash an AEthiope white.

Never cure was, but with some paines effected.

I'de rather trust the mercy of a storme, thento be calm'd for ever.

Let not feare fright you, nor hope foole you.

All is not deadly, that lookes dangerous.

Times ancient bawde is opporunity.

Folly begets danger.

Y'have spoke the worst that malice could invent.

Cedars and shrubs are not parallels.

Virginity in an ancient maid, is like a garment long laid by, and out of fashion, not worth wearing.

Virginity sometimes is like a false friend, better lost then kept.

Your thoughts instruct you ill.

Your heart's a rebell to you.

Descents to ill are easie, steepe are the steps to grace.

I'le waken heaven and earth with my exclaims.

[Page]Griefe's a true watch-man.

Base ones made big by beauty, are but slaves.

Unequall marriage is not love, but lust.

The Bee can breed no poyson, though shee sucke the juyce of hemlock.

Indignation flies on wings of thunder.

Traytors are like to poyson'd arrowes, which tyrants shoot at mischiefe.

Mine eyes waxe dim with expectation.

The minde of man is like a restlesse ship that's tost and hurl'd upon the surging seas.

The lofty Eagle will not catch at flies.

This world's a chaos of confusion

The nights black mantle over-spreads the skie.

Blacke night is fled to his deformed cell.

You dwell in Labyrinths.

Your language is more dubious than an oracle.

The Spaniel sawnes, because he dares not bark.

You flatter as though you had serv'd your apprentiship in Court.

Your starres bid you be happy.

Your heart's like pibbles, smooth, yet stony.

Generous spirits, are still subject to credulity.

'Tis the misery of Princes to sin in ignorance.

You will repent this language.

Inroule your meaning in your speech.

Old time hath thrown his feathers from his heels.

It is legitimate blood of the rich grape.

I'le sooner couple with a man-drake, and beget groanes.

I'me lost unto your memory.

Time hath now sprain'd his foote, and goes awry.

[Page]As pensive as the night.

As liberall as the Sun, which shines on all.

Gold is the quintescence and Elixar of all metals.

Time grows humorous with age.

The morns faire cheek hath not yet lost her tears.

The eye of heaven doth winke, or is out.

Mixe ability with your will.

As wholsome as the blood of grapes to age.

You will inrage your violence.

The frozen hand of death hath ceaz'd him.

The snake hath cast his skin.

As swift as thought.

Eolus defend us from these stormes.

The Jewell that's enjoy'd, is not esteem'd.

True beauty, yet was never mercilesse.

Who most doe love, must seeme most to neglect.

Night, nor sleep are nor more silent.

If a man halt but once in his estate, friendship will prove but broken crutches to him.

Night with her black steeds drawes up the day.

They deafen aire with their loud exclaims.

In warres, is wealth and honour to be wonne.

Mourning for the absent, is like sorrowing for the dead.

Outward shewes expresse not alwayes truth.

Imagination doth not ever faile.

Sparks of honour will burst into flames.

A Princes greatest glory is but a cloudy mist.

Princes with their lookes engender feare.

I love to heare vice anatomiz'd.

Observe him as the watch observes the clock.

There's nothing Roman in him.

[Page]Ambition makes more trusty slaves, then need.

When power, that may command, doth much descend, their bondage, whom it stoopes too, it intends.

It is not safe to inforce a Soverainges eare.

Princes heare well, if they at all will heare.

Wrath covered, carries fate with it.

Revenge is lost, if men professe they hate.

It is not safe, the children draw long breath, that are provoked by a parents death.

Thunder speakes not till it hit.

None sooner are opprest, then they, whom confidence betrayes to rest.

All power is to be fear'd, where 'tis too much.

Age in all things breeds neglect.

Wolves doe change their haire, but not their hearts.

Take heed of whispering your thoughts.

There is no losse, nor shame in providence.

He threatens many, that hath injur'd one.

Your fraud is worse to me then violence.

You strive to make him guilty, whom you have foredoom'd.

Your thoughts looke through your words.

The coward, and the valiant man must fall.

The times are sicke, when vertue cannot safely bee advanc'd.

Who nourisheth a Lyon, must obey him.

A Princes power makes all his actions good.

Princes agents are like dumb instruments, to doe, but not enquire.

Princes intents are to be serv'd, not search't

The way to rise, is to obey, and please.

[Page]No innocence is safe, when power contests.

What wee doe know will come, wee should not feare.

'Tis hard when ignorance is scarcely innocent.

A good man rather must sit downe with losse, than rise unjust.

'Tis place, not blood, discernes the noble, and the base.

Night hath many eyes; whereof, though most doe sleepe, yet some are spies.

'Tis now about the noone of night.

He well doth give, where merit meets his bounty.

Injuries neglected, finde their owne grave.

The punishment of writers augments the reputation of his workes.

The first crime is the bridge to all succeeding ones.

When a woman hath lost her chastity, shee hath no more to lose.

Where distrust begins, there friendship ends.

There's nothing in man but his ambition, that waxeth not olde.

Great matters should bee sooner done, than disputed of.

'Tis more honour to give, than to receive.

When the service is so great, that it cannot well be recompenc'd, it makes him that hath done it, odious and troublesome.

Princes had rather give to oblige, than to acquire themselves by rewarding.

Patience too much wrong'd, turnes to fury.

Providence is the safest shield against the threats of fortune.

[Page]That power can never bee well us'd, that is ill got.

'Tis hard to judge of a mans felicity, before his death.

That favour that is acquired by merit, or good fortune, is conserv'd by modesty, and lost by insolence.

Vertue wheresoever found, is honourable.

Fortune attend me, as my ends are just.

Suffer mine eyes for to discourse my griefes.

Vertue and grace, are alwayes pair'd together.

Braine is the mother of invention.

Kill this monster griefe.

True worth, scornes to turne Camelion.

When beautie's withered, lustfull love growes cold.

Your guilt keepes ope your eyes.

Midnight's the generall Bawde to the whole world.

Nimble prevention out-runs woe.

'Tis rare, to finde a woman chaste and faire.

Destruction, though delaid, yet's deadly sure.

The blessed man is absolutely rich.

As secret as calme silence, or the night.

Anothers losse, makes many fortunate.

In sicknesse, an associate helps disease.

Envi's the common traytor to Estate.

That man's to lethergy condemn'd, that takes a Politician to his friend.

To suffer wrong, inflames revenge.

A pregnant pupill thrives without a tutor.

[Page]An hypocrites heart is like a deceitfull spunge.

The sunne at his departure seem'd to smile.

Mischiefe, like mighty waves, ne're comes alone.

Place cannot change the nature of good things.

Innocence is resolutions ground.

Let affection be your servant, will your slave, passion your drudge.

The Foord is shallowest, where the streame doth roare.

Hearts are small things, but infinite in desires.

The head-strong windes doe rage with hideous stormes.

The fearefull Sunne descends as red as blood.

There is no hell to an aspiring minde.

All strive to have, but few for to deserve.

What horrour and affrightment ceaseth me.

The sun will blush, for to behold such guilt.

Man is the pride of heavens creation.

Let not clouds of passion choake your reason.

Nothing deforms a man so much as sinne.

When black hands are lift up, heaven hath no feeling.

Death could not speake a word more fatall to mee.

Just heaven will ne're forsake the innocent.

Griefe's weight is eas'd, when each one beares his part.

Ignorance doth not alwayes strut in sattin, it ofttimes walkes a Clergy pace in blacke.

The Foxe will have his prey before the Lyon.

Words are ayery shades, they are deedes that please.

Wealth is abus'd, when it conducts to hell.

He's blest, that to bee rich, can give consent [Page] with honesty, or rest poore with content.

Let mercy lodge within your gentle breast.

What ground for this suspition, finde your thoughts.

Our heads cut ayre, and yet our hearts plough earth.

Murther from Heavens eye cannot be conceal'd.

Vaine thoughts will flatter you.

Passion must vent it selfe in speech or teares.

Too much indulgence is not love, but hate.

The body hath no sicknesse like the minde.

You hugge your hopes, as a politician his ayery plots.

Murther, like your Jesuite, doth whisper death in silence.

The Vsurer whilst his interest money in doth trole, cares not to lose the principall his soule.

Murther will out, though by the actors mouth.

Rich men, as well as poore, must turne to dust.

Gold's the world's Idoll.

Gold is the young man's whore, the olde man's saint.

Ignorance is foe to arts.

You put into a sea, you cannot [...]ound.

Harke how the sound of horrour beates the ayre.

The Alpine snow at the sunne beames doth melt.

'Tis vanity to quarrell with your destiny

Who seemes most crafty, proves oft-times most foole.

Mercy is Nobilities true badge.

The Raven doth not hatch a larke.

Did ever Raven sing so like a Larke.

[Page]Sorrow conceal'd, doth burn the heart to cynders.

The Firmament hath not more Sunnes than one.

Friends should associate friends in griefe and woe.

Trust him by leasure, that deceiv'd thee once.

Your smiles to mee are like a flattering glasse.

There is sedition in your countenance.

Content's a Kingdome, and you weare the crowne.

Banish from your breast sad discontent.

Care lodges in my heart, griefe in my breast.

Charity is fled to Heaven.

Death is the end of all calamity.

Rich men flye the poore, as good men shunne the Devill.

Oh what a clogge to the soule is sinne.

Pity it is repentance comes too late.

Blow not those coales, which long were rak'd in embers.

Let not the head contend against the foote.

A benefit upbraided, forfeits thankes.

There's no content attends a wavering minde.

That man is only happy with his fate,

That is contented in a setled state.

Time flies with winged hast.

A bounteous act hath alwayes glory following it.

'Tis best to feare without a cause.

Your sword hath made some windowes for my blood.

Who hunts for honour, happinesse neglects.

You are both deafe to prayers, and blinde to teares.

By base revenge, there is no honour wonne.

[Page]To forgive an Injury, is the greatest victory.

He that will once give the wall, shall quickly bee thrust into the kennell.

I was not salted at the University to be colted here.

Love's the reward of love.

Mischiefe for mischiefe, is a due reward.

Blood asketh blood, and death must death requite.

Wrong done, is righted, when men grant, they erre.

Tell trueth, and shame all travellers and tradesmen.

He that soares too neare the Sunne, may melt his wings.

Blushing doth ill in a waiting-Gentlewoman, but monstruous in an old Courtier.

The Vulture smels a prey.

Sin is the worst of ills.

A duty well discharg'd, is never followed by sadd repentance.

The world's a Citie, full of straying streets,

And death's the market-place where all doe meet.

Make not misery and affliction a toy to jest at.

My hope's a prisoner to me.

A willing man dyes sleeping.

Truth is times eldest daughter.

Awake, and pay the duty which you owe.

Power makes all things lawfull.

Envy stands ever gaping at desert.

Love hath a blind-fold judgment.

Truth hath no need of Rhetorick.

Death is a debt, for which there is no forgivenesse.

Perswasion shall not change me.

[Page]No man shall want his merit.

Still waters drowne, the shallow doe but roare

It is truths part to suffer.

A Bastard is the filthy dreggs of lust, that was be got when sinne was revelling.

Shake hands with passion.

Earth must not question Heaven.

As innocent as truth.

Kill not your comfort.

Gold is a good perswader.

He that knowes the world, knowes not all her mischiefes.

Care may prevent a danger.

He that feares danger, shall be sure to finde it.

In stillest rivers, are the greatest dangers.

Make vertue your companion evermore.

Truth will appeare sometimes by miracle.

Severity brings safety.

Misery will make a man the better relish happinesse.

Dally not with mischiefe.

The lambe is unnaturall, that should hate the Damme.

All ship-wracks are not drownings.

Stomackes with kindnesse cloyd, disdaine must stirre.

Deepe plots desire the night, not babling day.

Wine is wits mid-wife.

Time may favour winne.

Fear's as bad as death.

Darke night hath blacke velvet wings.

Melancholy is the nurse of frenzie.

[Page]The poorest service is repaid with thankes.

It is the minde that makes the body rich.

The fire of love is blowne by dalliance.

The more ill threats us, we suspect the lesse.

Preferment seldome graceth bashfulnesse.

Cares are companions of a crowne.

Mischiefe lurkes in the darke.

A storme may come, be the day ne're so cleare.

Quicke speede is good, where wisdome leades the way.

Hasty purposes, have hated ends.

Death is the conquerour of Kings.

He loves not me, that loves mine enemie.

The monster griefe afflicts my very soule.

Death is farre sweeter then captivity.

Reason's the mistresse of experience.

Report is ever subject to abuses.

Worth should be ever admir'd, and vertue lov'd.

True love is void of feare.

No danger can afflict a constant minde.

Your waxen wings will melt against the Sun.

Beauty may tempt to lust.

Put not out the eye of reason.

Beauty set to sale, wantons the blood.

Beauty doth draw like to the wanton morning sun, the eyes of men to gaze on.

Truth will be prevalent.

Justice, like lightning, ever should appeare,

To few mens ruine, but to all mens feare.

Let not passion ecclips your judgment, or reason.

Truth will discover all mens treacheries.

Mercy and beauty well doe sympathize.

[Page]Causes best friended, have the best events.

Better be ever dumb, then not speake truth.

Silence argues guilt.

Appetite to love, never leaves an old woman, till cracking of nuts failes her.

Sleepe is deaths younger brother.

A man past grace, is past recovery.

Nights candles burne obscure.

The moone lyes buried in a cloud.

Earths joyes are but short liv'd

Your soule bleedes at your eyes.

The care of State is quicke, and jealous.

Good men may erre sometimes.

Soft rest hath ceas'd on mortalls browes.

Passion, like midnight, sits upon your thoughts.

I'e vent my griefes in silence.

Experience makes it good, they stand not fast, that rise by blood.

What fits you not to know, leave to desire.

Suspitions eye doth dog you.

Death is the post of heaven.

Take truce with sorrow.

You may as soone perswade the Ocean, in a storm to leave swelling.

Envye stands a typ-toe, to pull downe innocence.

Every thing the lesse common it is, the more admir'd.

Love is ever seconded with flattery.

Vertue is rich, and rewards it selfe.

Death's a quicke carver.

Death is the harbinger of heaven.

Fortune showres downe content beyond desert.

[Page]Nature hath made you, what she need not shame.

When he that should reward, forgets the man, 'tis vertue to boast a merit.

Time creepes, when we expect our blisse.

Prevent your fate, by vertuous providence.

No sun-shine followes me.

Virgins resolves are weake.

Be reconcil'd to vertue.

Innocence is a strong tower.

Death's a devouring gamster.

Reproach is death, to him that liv'd in fame.

Griefe by dispaire seemes greater then it is.

By industry, wise men doe seeke reliefe.

True setled love, can ne're be turn'd to hate.

Though fortune faile us, let us not faile our selves.

Vertue's unto it selfe a sure reward.

Beware betimes, and be not wise too late.

There lurks an adder in the greenest grasse.

Danger, or purpose, alwayes hides her head.

Nothing wounds deeper then ingratitude.

He that is one mans slave, is free from none.

Where there is plainenesse, there is ever truth.

Rage is the vent of torment.

Mischiefe's ready way lyes alwayes open.

Gold is of power to make an Eagle's speed.

Fortune is fickle, and her face is blinde.

The Foxe fares alwayes best, when he is curst.

Great honours are but fortunes flatteries.

Who soares too neare the sun, may melt his wings.

The shrub is safe, when us the Cedar shakes.

Ambition like the plague, see thou eschew.

A disgrace not seene, is held no shame.

[Page]Let not lust conquer vertue.

The Halcyon sings before a storme.

You know no pitty for an injury.

At the lowest ebbe, the tide still turnes.

You have shewed me a rich Jewell, and put it in a Casket for your selfe.

When mynes are to bee blowne up, men digge lowe.

Let plenty spread your boord, and charity take away.

Great men to Princes, are like valleyes unto hils, they may be councelled by them, not controwled.

Conscience is seldome seene in cloath of gold.

Great fortunes earned, are great slaveries.

Where Beggars once take almes, they look for't ever.

Storms are at sea, when it is calme at land.

You feede some discontent.

Discontent's a mould, fit to cast mischiefe in.

Hee that hath the muses smyle, hath moneyes frowne.

Better to fight with Lyons, then with Lawes.

Heaven is the poore mans champion.

Sorrow ends not, when as it seemeth done.

Truth hath a quiet breast.

Where words are few, they are seldome spent in vaine.

Mens ends are mark'd, more then their lives before.

You seeke no shelter, to avoid the storme.

A tide of woes comes rushing on all at once.

Thankes is the exchequer of the poore.

[Page]Things past redresse, ought to be past care.

Teares shew their love, but want their remedy.

Your heart is not confederate with your tongue.

Griefe's not to be asswag'd by flattery.

Chastity is a thing not known in Court.

Nothing is hard to them that dare to dye.

Cherish desert in all.

Men are not fit to live in the state they hate.

The easinesse doth much abate the edge.

No pain's so irksome as a forc'd delight.

There needes no flattery, but where desert is wanting.

He's next in right, that hath the strongest power.

Sometimes noble blood is hid in rags.

Feare argues a base spirit.

Death is the last, and the extream'st of ills.

Vertue is paid her due by death alone.

Time weares out, what art or nature cannot bring about.

When lust is up, all women are alike.

None can finde, the subtle cunning of a womans minde.

You give a drop of honey in a sea of gall.

Ther's no resisting of necessity.

There is a cloud obscures my sunne.

Late providence, procures long repentance.

Blinde is the censure of uncertainties.

Great sorrow is alwayes dumbe.

The greatest vertue is true patience.

My heart was never feaver-shook with feare.

All censures soone take fire.

The dawne of mid-night, is the Drunkards noone.

[Page]Chastity is a Virgins riches.

To shut your lips fast, take this locke of gold.

A faulty woman never wants excuse.

Women are like to Venice glasses, one cracke spoyles them.

As kinde as the sunne to the new-come spring.

As constant as the needle to the adamant.

Good things abus'd, convert unto the worst.

An Eagles nest disdaines to hatch a crow.

Small flies it'th spiders web are ta'ne,

When great ones teare the web, and free remaine.

No man ever durst sweare for his wife, but Adam.

Innocence wrong'd, is crown'd.

Thieves are Diana's Forresters, or Gentlemen of the shade.

As melancholy as a lovers lute, or haire▪

Tread not upon my patience.

A railing wife is worse then a smoaky house.

As bountifull as mynes of India.

Your letters speakes your minde.

As wanton as a goate.

Discretion is the better part of valour.

A false comfort is worse then a true wrong.

Suspition alwayes hath a ready tongue.

In poyson there is physicke.

Wake not a sleeping wolfe.

As neare of kinne, as the parish heyfer to the towne bull.

Discretion is the better part of man.

Let wisdome be your guide.

Uneasie lyes the head, that weares a Crowne.

Olde folkes are times doating chronicle.

[Page]He is walk'd the way of nature, and of death.

Abate your fury.

As quicke and fiery, as the palfrey of the sunne.

There's flattery in friendship.

The man that would have sold the Lyons skinne, while the beast liv'd, was kill'd with hunting him.

Noble mindes contemne dispaire or danger.

There is more safety in a tygers jawes.

To wretched men, death is felicity.

No beast is so fierce, but knowes some touch of pitty.

A wren may prey, where an Eagle dares not perch.

'Tis good to sort occasion.

When clouds appeare, wise men put on their cloakes.

The minde of man, mistrusts ensuing dangers.

The waters swell, before a boysterous storme.

Riches are in fortune, as great a good, as wisedome is in nature.

Hope is such a bate, it covers any hooke.

Calumnies are answered best with silence.

Health is the blessing of the rich, and riches of the poore.

The sunne that sets, may rise againe.

Play not with, or delay not opportunity.

Guilty persons suspect what they deserve.

Mischiefe doth ever end, where it begun.

It is an act of horrour.

Heaven never failes the innocent.

Good wits are greatest in extreamity.

To plead for the guilty, hurts the innocent.

Mischief's feed like beasts, till they be fat, and then they bleed.

[Page]Brave minds, are strongest in extreamities.

The most doe favour errour.

Reason is the ground of arts.

Your complements call your faith in question.

You may improve your vertue.

Death hath more doores than one.

Truth is a word, that doth in every language relish well.

Play not too long upon my patience.

Mine eyes begin to summon me to sleepe.

Love is alwayes jealous.

In full fields, the gleanings are allowed.

The end still crownes the deed.

Best natures are soonest wrought upon.

Where shall I borrow patience.

A storme is comming, I must provide for harbor.

Man's right to every thing, wains with his wealth.

'Tis a dangerous thing to steale prey from a Lyon.

The worst deeds are made good, with good successe.

Flatterers looke like friends, as wolves like dogs.

Misery of vertue, ill is made good with worse.

A wronged hart will breake a rib of steele, but vent it selfe.

You are a gulfe of all ingratitude.

Dishonest things, have bitter rivers, though delicious springs.

Truth is not made of glasse.

Princes discontents, are like the flames of Etna, not to be quench'd.

Pray yield my innocence justice.

Doe not inforce your merrits, so your selfe.

[Page]Where medicines loath, it grieves men to bee heal'd.

Danger alwayes haunts desert.

Submission is a full, and compleat recompence.

Reward goes backward, honour on his head.

We must to vertue, for our guide resort.

Innovation is more dangerous than errour.

All faults are still-born, that from greatness grow.

Frailty is fruitfull.

The height of love is still wonne with denyings.

Guilt carries feare with it.

Flattery, like the plague, pierceth unfelt.

Keepe not fire in your bosome, lest it consume you.

You cherish a viper in your bosome, which will destroy you.

The Politician, or Machevilian, covers hate with smiles.

A Politician must (like lightning) melt the very marrow, yet not pierce the skinne.

An olde husband is good to make screene of, to stand next the fire, whilst his young wife sits behinde him, and keeps a friends lips warme.

You with your hand turn Fortunes wheele about.

Vertue is the fountaine, whence honour springs.

Let no mans birth be blemish to his worth.

We must give way to want.

'Tis manners to take kindnesse.

Necessity must be obeyed.

The feast of Marriage is not lust, but love.

When Cynthia's pride's at full, she waynes againe.

Death is the greatest Monarch in the world.

[Page]Love is a slave to hope.

Night clad in black, mournes for the losse of day.

Sleepe is death's younger brother.

Loves power by wisdome, cannot be with-stood.

Firm constancy, like rockes, can ne're be mov'd.

The face is the index of the minde.

'Tis a weakenesse to measure by our selves, the purposes of others.

You carry too much sale for your small Barque.

Let not false hopes abuse you.

To be thankfull to a servants merits, is growne a crime.

Greatnesse comes from above.

'Tis a favour, which vertue cannot warrant.

An innocent trueth can never stand in neede of a guilty lye.

I am but coffin to my cares.

My tongue's the voyce of truth.

Gold is the misers god.

Men flesht in blood, know seldome to amend.

Love subdues all things.

Love is the soveraign vertue of the soule.

Death to the godly, is the gate to blisse,

But death (the wicked) leades to the Abysse.

MOST PITHY, FACETIOUS, and PATHETICALL COMPLEMENTALL EXPRESSIONS.

[Page]

COnfirme me in your favour, with a smile.

The justnesse of my cause, I hope will gaine successe.

Her necke's more white, then new falne snow.

Her breasts, are swan-like.

Her very breath perfumes the aire she breaths.

You embrace the occasion to depart.

Welcome as Manna, to my hungry soule.

I will contrive my selfe for your best use.

I will performe my best on your behalfe.

Shee is a rich myne of beauty.

Shee is the glory of her sex.

Shee beares the palme of beauty from them all.

Others compar'd to her, seeme like glimmering starres to the full Moone.

Her breath's more odiferous, then a bed of spices.

Nature ne're fram'd a more delicious piece.

I'le pay the tribute of my lips, to your faire hands.

The musicke of the spheares, is not so ravishing.

The name of him you come from, is warrant sufficient [Page] to make your welcome here.

Let my boldnesse prove pardonable.

Let us change aire a little.

You have power to steere me, as you please.

I hope you hold no suspition of me.

'Tis my duty to obey your faire commands.

My feares are almost over.

In your good, I'le bury all my hate.

I can relish any thing that comes of free cost.

You are the only man I have ambition to honour.

I should be proud to merit such a favour.

'Tis in your power to oblige me.

Pray point mee out some service, to expresse my gratitude.

You will dishonour me by your suspition.

I know you are all Court-ship.

You have discourst me into admiration.

I'l live an hereticke in that point.

You have a soule is full of gratitude.

You have sown your charity in a fruitfull ground.

You are very liberall in language.

Breake silence, when you please.

Doome me not a scorne, before condemn'd.

Your sight gives me a lease of longer life.

Bee wise, faire opportunity waites upon your pleasure.

Your will is but controul'd by dastard feares.

Let me now circle in mine armes, all happinesse.

I have not soule enough, to apprehend my joyes.

I hope my fortunes cannot deserve your scorne.

Let me be bold to claime your noble promise.

My blood heaves in my veines.

[Page]'Tis happinesse enough, that you have mentioned it.

Let me beg your pardon.

Make me happy to renew my suite.

Vouchsafe me kisse your hands.

I'le consecrate this day to triumph.

I am shadow to your worthinesse, noble friend.

The riches of the world flow to your coffers.

Thinke not, that I would bid you graspe the wind, or call you to the embracing of a cloud.

You have power to melt mee, and cast mee in any mould.

All my breast holds, I'le powre into thee.

I'le tell it, or speake it in thine eares.

I had been happier by your fellowship.

Put on your better lookes, or thoughts,

Ther's nought, but faire and good intended to you.

Speake your imperfect thoughts.

I am ever bound to you, for many favours.

Fame renders you most worthy of it.

Report could never have got a sweeter aire to flye in, than your noble breast.

You are all bounty, all worth.

Enjoyne me to what punishment you please.

I'le flye at your commands.

I feare 'twill prove prodigious to you.

Your warrant must prove mighty then.

For this let me embrace you.

I will be secret as your soule, or night.

I'le like your shade pursue you.

All faire content dwell here.

Fortune may be propitious yet.

[Page]I feare, my griefes are not at full yet.

I emulate your daring spirit.

You can bawle well, with your full oyster voyce.

You barke too much, to bite.

All valour's not confin'd within your breast.

The happinesse of the day crowne your desires.

I wish the night may equall the dayes happinesse.

All content, both night and day, crowne your desires.

My desires equall your wishes.

I'le weepe the day out, and out-mourn the night.

Who gave you patent to examine me.

She equalls your Commends in all respects.

So true a faire, I ne're beheld till now.

You merit not, to touch so choise a rarity,

You over-charge me with so great a favour, as your descending thus to visite me.

Your carriage speakes you so impartiall worthy.

I should doe wrong to merit, not to honour you.

Your hopes should flye a pitch above it.

I see, there speakes a fortune in your brow.

I dare not looke so high.

Is this the hooke your golden baite doth cover.

I will not further disswade your resolution.

I will not lesse esteeme your merit.

You engage me to you ever.

Her minde's so chast, a man may sooner melt the Alpes, then her

You are ungentle to triumph in my torment.

Glut your relentlesse sight with full eyed sorrow.

Shee is all amorous, all faire.

Those teares would melt the hearts of Tygers.

[Page]Gold, that doth usher greatnesse, lacques you.

The tongues of Ravens are too milde to speake it.

You cast your eyes too much upon the flame, proves your destruction.

Turne backe your Commet eyes, or I shall perish in the flames of love.

I'le be as just to you, as heaven to trueth.

Can there remaine a soule, that will vouchsafe me pity.

I'le put you to the test.

You dazell your owne eys.

I will out-toyle the day for your content.

I cannot speake your worth to the full.

What sad noyse wounds my eares.

You are the prodigy of nature.

You are the substance of that shadow, I did represent.

The world may smile againe.

Calme your contumelious tongue.

Reverse that doome.

If I say, I may repent, but if I sweare, it is irrevocable.

You looke like leane fac'd envye.

I scorne your worthlesse threats.

You have a Tygers heart wrapt in a womans hide.

Even as the rockes please them, that feare their wracke.

Pray give no limits to my tongue.

Without your leave, I'me priviledg'd to speake.

Your man-hood hangs upon your tongue.

As if a channell, should be call'd, the Sea.

Whether flye the gnats, but to the Sunne.

[Page]Dark clowdy death, ore-shades his beames of life.

Aske mercy, and obtaine no grace.

The ghostly Father now hath done his shrift.

You cry content, to that which grieves you most.

You can adde colours to the Camelion.

You can change shapes with Proteus.

You'le set the aspiring Cateline to Schoole.

I'le never fawne upon your frownes.

You are as amorous as youthfull May.

You are as gray as January.

My deeds shall alwayes waite upon my promise.

Just AEsopps crowe, pranc'd up in borrowed feathers.

All my liberty lies in your service.

More manners wovld become you better.

I yield my selfe to your direction, manage mee at your pleasure.

You would faine endeare your service.

I have beene faithfull in all you trusted me.

I'le make a vertue of necessity.

No service, more then reciprocall.

I cannot passe you without an ave.

Secret as mid-night, quicke as lightning, sure as the sunne.

I listned for that string, and you have toucht it.

You oppresse me with wonder.

I'le give no sufferage to it.

I feare you have made a conveyance of your Virginity before-hand.

You have suck'd the milke of the Court.

I'le be your anvill to worke upon.

I will out-waite a Sergeant for you.

[Page]Shall I hope this benefit from you.

You set too high a price on my poore deservings.

I reap'd more grace, then I deserv'd or hop'd.

Darke night hath shut up day, to pleasure us.

What ever joy earth yeelds, succeede to you.

The vertues of your minde would force a Stoicke to sue to be your servant.

You are a staine of honour.

I am a constant lover of your minde.

Your noble deeds, transcend all presidents.

It is an honour, and so I doe receive it.

Peace waite upon you.

It is a favour, and so I doe receive it.

You have fir'd mee with the heate of your deservings.

The vertues of your minde are infinite.

You wander in the wilde maze of desire.

Pray guide me to your lips.

Your lookes are agues to me.

Let's have a scene of mirth.

You are a diligent observer of the times.

Too much of one dish cloyes one.

I'le seate you on a hill of happinesse.

I feele a womans longing.

You have out stript me in the race of honour.

'Tis farre from me, to be your rivall.

One frowne of yours, strikes dead all comfort in mee.

Your feares are needlesse▪

I'le not be wanting: but stil strive to serve.

You are the miracle of vertue.

I stand indebted for a benefit to you.

[Page]In thankefull duty, I'le study how to serve you.

I cannot speake your prayses to the full.

Your breast's my Sanctuary.

It is not worth your thoughts.

I prize him to his worth.

In thought I am not guilty.

Let me thrive, as my intents are honest.

I have a strong assurance of your vertue▪

It is unfit, that I should presse it further.

Such thoughts are farre from my ambition.

This is impudence beyond expression.

Trouble me not with thankes.

It merits not your thankes.

Fortune claimes a share in't.

I doe partake your sufferings.

There's no happinesse in my gift, but you may challange▪

I'le plead my interest.

I'le rather doubt an oracle, then question what you deliver.

You may teach Hermes eloquence.

You looke with covetous eyes upon her.

I plead for that, which you with joy should offer.

Leape into mine armes, and then aske pardon.

These are strange Meanders.

I hope you'le please to thinke upon my sufferings.

My want of power to satisfie so great a debt, makes me accuse my fortunes.

You may as you please, determine of me.

You caper, as you were all aire, or fire.

I'le be as humble, as your Spaniel.

Your bounty (like a new Spring) hath reviv'd the Autumne of my yeares.

[Page]I will not warre with Eloquence.

A bed of snakes straggle within mee.

Faire fortune be your guide.

You seeme to out-march time.

You are skilfull in patience.

You are fortunes mynion, and sleepe in her bosome.

I feare you'l make me guilty of Idolatry.

Such endearements, will too much impoverish my gratitude.

Take me into your bosome, and hide me there.

I esteeme you a friend to vertue.

Not the mountaine Ice, congeal'd to chrystall, is more chast then shee.

Your marrow's frozen in your bones.

You speake, or puffe, like a Cannon.

I'le be obedient to your just commands

I'le celebrate my Mris health to you.

Her breath is like the smoake of spices.

I ever held you my best example.

Shee whispers like the amorous lute.

'Tis not in me for to resist your pleasure

I'le flye with winged hast.

You councell, like an oracle.

I'le like an amorous winde, sport with your hair.

Let my entreaty have power, to alter your commands.

I know your worth, and esteeme your friendship precious.

You may challenge all my power on your behalfe.

You are the starre, that rules my faculties.

[Page]Gallants are much oblig'd unto the sinnes of Ladies.

You did mispend that breath.

My faith cannot admit of this.

To see your harmony, will make me sinne in wishes.

Trust not the unruly appetite of youth.

You are much given to propogation.

Y'ave bath'd your silken limbs in lustfull dalliance.

You walke in artificall clowds.

Your guilt doth make you aguish.

You tremble, like a frosty Russian on a hill▪

I feare you will convert to stone.

You wrong your judgement.

My services merit no such regard.

My joy exceeds my wonder.

You still oblige my gratitude.

You walke in cloudy mysts.

You barke against the Moone.

See an object worthy pity.

Leave with me first some comfort.

Farewell, faire regent of my soule.

You will make happy the man that shall possesse you.

I never hop'd from you so large a bounty.

Your tongue is a perpetuall motion.

Thought is not more swift.

You are a Stukely, or a Sherley, for your spirit and bounty.

Shee sends you amorous glances from her eyes.

They fight love on both sides.

Be moderate my joyes.

[Page]My joyes are at the full.

The blessings of your Mistrisse fall upon you.

You seeme able, without the helpe of muscadine and egges.

It shall be in my Creed.

I'le mount me on the wings of hast.

Aske your thoughts, if they can counsell keepe.

This sight is physicke to my soule.

I love to heare vice anatomized.

Marriage is my wishes happinesse.

Would I were Secretary to your thoughts.

Your thoughts and mine, run parallel in that.

My best abilities of power are at your service▪

You are the starre that guides my motion.

I'le bosome what I thinke.

It was the end of their creation.

A maiden-head, is as a creature got in the eye, conceived in a kisse: some call it a sigh, and some an amorous groane.

The very aire is ravisht with her touch.

This place is not my spheare.

I have no shift of faces, no cleft tongue.

You are the soule of goodnesse.

Let me adore my Esculapius.

Checke your passions, be master of your selfe.

He lookes too full of death, for you to deale with.

Shee shines bright like the Moone, among the lesser lights.

I must make a rude departure.

You must use more then a common speed.

I am not Oedipus enough to understand you.

I must be glad to practise my obedience.

[Page]As lov'd, as is the aire I breath.

You are the friend of season, and doe follow fortune.

I'le sooner trust a Sinon.

You seeme to tread on aire.

Let me enjoy my longings.

'Tis now about the noone of night.

Runne a Lictors pace.

I'le reare a Pyramis to your memorie.

It is an act most worthy Hell, and lasting night.

Now Venus be my speed.

Can you freeze, and such a heate so nigh you, ready to dissolve you.

Shee hath an easie melting lippe, a speaking eye.

All the dayes good attend you.

Can your beliefe lay hold no such a miracle.

Good gall be patient.

I'le feede you with delight.

My fortunes thrive beyond imagination.

My hopes are prevalent.

Why are you cloath'd in teares or sorrow▪

Venus compar'd to her, was but a Blowze.

Her eyes are Dyamonds, set in purest gold.

You are the starre, by whom my fate is led.

I love to relish sweete variety.

You are clouded all with passion.

I hope our loves are twinnes.

Your wanton blood danceth within your veines.

You speake all comfort to me.

My blood is almost frozen with despaire.

Laments are idle, seeke better remedies.

I must enrowle you in the catalogue of my dearest friends.

[Page]You will perswade beliefe.

You live like a screech-owle in a secret cave.

It is the blessing of my fate.

Your example steeres mee.

Our moderators are our swords.

I burst, if I containe my passion.

I'le be a just executor, of your will.

I'le raine a showre of gold into your lap.

My trust shall quit your faith.

Her name, like some celestiall fire, quickens my spirits.

I never knew vertue, and beauty meere in a sweeter nature.

My wish requites you.

I am plannet-strucke.

Your guilt doth binde your secresie.

You cannot tempt me, Syren.

I know what snake would sting you.

My love's like fate, unmoveable.

I am blinde to your inticements.

I have beene true unto your pleasures.

I shall rest gratefull for it.

Your presence is restorative.

Let me not perish in your favour.

They greet in silence, as the dead are wont.

Your words are Raysers to my wounded heart.

I'le climbe Olympus top.

The golden sunne salutes the morne.

You are above pale envies threatning reach.

The sunne hath gilt the Ocean with his beames.

You thunder with your tongue.

Better then you, have worne Vulcans badge.

[Page]There's musicke in her smiles.

I will prevent the suns up rising, from his bed.

Court her with faire entreates.

My rage hath plung'd me into a sea of danger.

Disparage not your worth so.

You are full of faire desert.

I have been bound to you, by many favours.

I shall never merit your least of favours to me.

I never bound you to me by desert.

You are a man most deare in my regard.

The Ocean's not more boundlesse, then your favours.

Some fury prickes you on, and hurries you to mischiefe.

I cannot harbour such a disloyall thought.

Your purse is my Exchequer.

Build on my faith.

With what face of brasse can you speake this.

You move me both to passion, and to pitty,

It is an act of night.

Your lipp's she path of pleasure, and the gate of blisse.

You will have much adoe, to winne beliefe,

I am wrapt in a maze of wonder.

Wee come with prepared stomackes, to your Feast.

A generall silence hath surprized all.

I'le lodge you in my bosome, and wear you in my heart.

Her honour is as spotlesse as the Moone.

This light in me begets much admiration.

I shall turne baby too.

[Page]A mart of beauties in her visage meete.

If once I lov'd you, greater is your debt.

Wrong not our friend-ship so.

Let feare goe seeke a dastards nest.

I'le call your tongue to strict account for this.

I'le ope my bosome to you.

You thinke you can enchaine me with a smile.

You are a white inchantresse, Lady.

A beauteous body hides a loathsome soule.

You are to her a sun-burnt Black-a-moore.

Your tongue is like the sting of Scorpions.

Let my submission my presumption salve.

No paines, but pleasure Sir.

Come, forget your Courtiers, and talke like honest men.

Sure you had a satyre to your sire.

Midnight would blush at this.

I ever held your worth in great esteem.

Your breast is my sanctuary.

I heare, or feare a tempest comming.

Give me leave to plead my innocency.

Which of my actions hath rendred me suspected.

Pray use my service in't.

Let proofe plead for me.

'Tis a disgrace would dwell upon me, should you refuse me.

I have no faculty, which is not yours.

Your charity is my heritage.

Your lookes enforce a freedome out of bondage.

You are as jealous as a Turkey.

May your goodnesse get you a happy husband.

[Page]I am proud to please you.

You are a noble giver.

Let me seale my vow'd faith on your lips.

By you, like your shade, I'le ever dwell.

You out-dare danger.

My fanci's oft a prophet.

The justnesse of my cause, and honour guard me.

You mke my faith to stagger.

Let no due be wanting.

You are to her a meere dull shadow.

'Tis pity love should be so tyrannous.

I'de rather see a Wren hawle at a flye.

My heart is wing'd with hast, that out-flies motion.

You have a goodnesse, past equality.

I'le stretch your patience higher yet.

I hold your words a rocke to build upon.

Doubt not my diligence.

This kisse seales my repentance.

'Tis now no time for Court-ship.

You cannot command, what I'le not execute.

You have hit the object, that I look'd at.

You cannot command, with more willingnesse then I'le obey.

I dare not speake my knowledge.

As you have vertue, speake it.

Unlocke this secret.

Your jealousie doth foole, or slave you.

The unblowne Rose, the mynes of Chrystall, nor the Diamond, are not more chaste, or pure then shee.

[Page]Can there be such a lethergy in nature.

Let not sadnesse thus afflict you.

They which dare doe, dare suffer.

'Tis no more, then what your worth may challenge.

You are my Nightingale of comfort.

I'le keepe a Jubile to your memory.

Your tongue cannot defame me.

Nothing can hinder fate.

Few words, and good deeds, are best pleasing to women.

You are rackt in the haven of happinesse.

The hand of heaven reward you.

You have throwne me on a bed of misery.

Your love out-strips my merit.

The Court's a spring, each Lady is a rose.

Women are Angels, clad in flesh.

Your will commands, and mine obeyes.

Her maiden cheekes, blush with Vermillion.

My eyes pay tribute, where my heart payes love.

You are the patron of my hopes.

Your purse is proud, although your garment's poore.

This gallant will command the Sunne.

The harvest of his life is past.

Your memory deserves to outlive time.

You like a Commet doe attract all eyes.

I must enjoyn you to an act of secresie.

You are the star of my felicity.

You apply a balme, worse then the wound it selfe,

You seeme devoted unto sorrow.

It is a Paradice, enjoying you.

[Page]Wrong not her spotlesse chastity.

You are the shame of men.

You breath'd a p [...]ssionate sigh.

You temporize with sorrow, mine is sincere.

Swifter then meditation.

Let my repentance make satisfaction, for my wrongs to you.

Your chinne, almost appeares a wildernesse.

It is a meere imposture.

You have made me sicke with passion.

My armes shall be your sanctuary.

I'le free you from all danger.

The hand of heaven is in't.

O suite your pity with your infinite beauty.

You are the only anchor of my hopes.

There is no treasure upon earth like her.

What breeds distrust in you.

I waite the censure of your doome.

Your heart is not confederate with your tongue.

I am proud, my house containes such worthy friends.

My sword shall be your guardian.

In your losse, my joy ecclipsed is.

As white as innocence it selfe.

You serve the times.

Her breath casts sweet perfumes.

Your goodness is the spring from whence it issues.

Goodnesse and vertue, are neere of your acquaintance.

You understand not the language of my intent.

Light is not clearer.

[Page]A charity, like all your other vertues.

I am in strait of miseries

As covetous as a barren wombe.

As rare as vertue at the Court.

As glorious as a noone-tide sun.

My entertainement hath confirm'd my welcome.

We love by destiny.

I live indeer'd unto your faith.

You have blasted the harvest of my hopes.

Your words have charm'd my soule.

Let me entreate your silence.

I will not trust the aire with it.

You wound my heart.

You swell like a spring tide.

Heaven hath been my friend.

I am sorry to have been the messenger of that afflicts you.

I want no part of welfare, but your wished presence.

You have no sence of griefe.

Make me companion of your cares.

Play not the Tyrant with me.

You'l bed with ice and snow.

You are too much an Adamant.

My thankes requite you.

You'l wast your selfe with sorrow.

Those eyes were made to shine, not wast with dew.

Your presence is powerfull.

My starres owe me more happinesse.

Let not passion clowde your vertues.

Your words and lookes are strangers.

It is no pilgrimage to travell to your lips.

[Page]Goe bath your lips in rosie dew of kisses.

You are the miracle of friendship.

I weare you in my heart.

Your favours have falne like the dew upon me.

You make my vertue bleed.

Give me leave to waken your memory.

It is an age, till night,

Mischiefe hath scarce a name beyond it.

My Genius and yours are friends.

Take heede, my hands will mutiny.

My tongue speakes the freedome of my heart.

You are a very rat of Nylus.

Mine eyes have feasted on your beautuous face.

I am all joy in your conversion.

I owe service to your love.

In your love I number many blesses.

I will unrippe my very bosome to you.

I hope you are not marble▪

I will beg your pity.

I'le cherish your desert.

Command what you desire.

The sunne and I must rise together.

I love the braine for the invention.

Sure winter dwells upon your lipp, the snow is not more cold.

The starres whereon I gaze, shall be your face.

You with Ambrosiacke kisses bathe your lips.

You may by vertue beate downe your ambition.

Our morning cock's turn'd Owle.

Y'are turn'd Pernassus, late.

You feede my heart with much sweet hope.

[Page]My patience can digest your injuries.

You are rich in meekenesse.

You have a flinty heart.

Your head doth beare the Calendar of age.

You may usurpe your pleasure.

You are full of passion.

I'le Centinell your safety.

You have power to sway me, as you please.

Convert your rage to pity.

I should question trueth, to doubt it.

Your goodnesse wants a president.

I ne're beheld a beauty more compleate.

I'le chronicle your vertues.

Your acceptance shall be my recompence.

You no way have offended.

It was my ignorance, and no pretended boldnesse.

Your Sunne shines in my day.

I'le be an Argos o're you.

Your words to mee are Acts, your promises are deeds.

The Sunne ne're met the Summer with more joy.

To you, I will disclose my very bosome.

No storme could be so tyrannous.

You wrap me up in wonder.

I am as mute as night.

Freely relate your sorrows.

Report strikes with wonder.

You are gratefull, beyond merit, or desert.

You take truce with sorrow.

[Page]It would become you ill.

Innocence is bold.

You guild my praises farre above my deserts.

My boldnesse wants excuse.

I am your servant, still at your commands.

Dreame on your best desires.

My language was not aim'd at you.

Reward stayes for you.

I am barr'd of much content.

Your service shall not dye unrewarded.

This physicke cures not me.

I'le pay the tribute of my love to you.

You will out-strip the winde.

I gather from your eyes, what your disease is.

I'le safely land you out of all danger.

If a storme fall, you shall be my shelter.

The Wolfe's in's owne snare taken.

Mine eyes have lusted for you.

You make me much your debtor.

Welcome, as light to day, as health to sicke men.

The sunne shines on you still.

It is the riches of the minde, that I doe aime at.

The riches of your minde are infinite.

Let mee share your thoughts

'Tis not so sweete as musicke.

This is beyond all patience.

Shee needes not learne her beauties worth of you.

Give quiet to your thoughts.

[Page]Let men that hope to be belov'd, be bold.

You have a face, where all good seemes to dwell.

My duty bindes me to obey you ever.

You are an usurer of fame.

I sacrifice to you the incense of my thankes.

You weare a snowy livery.

I will repay your love with usury.

I have no reason to misdoubt your faith.

Vertue goe with you.

You are the starre I reach at.

Where shines this starre.

Give him a Court loafe, stop his mouth with a monopoly.

I am engag'd to businesse, craves some speed.

Her eyes are Orbes of starres.

Thankes for your wishes.

You speake the Courtiers dialect.

Your tongue walkes from your heart.

'Tis your owne guilt afflicts you

If I can friend you, use me.

Oh, I shall rob you of too much sweetnesse.

Sure, you have lost your use of reason.

You fret like a gumm'd velvet.

All things lie levell to your wishes.

Your title, farre exceeds my worth.

You runne before your horse to market.

You are my counsells consistory.

Inherit your desires.

Your kindnesse freezeth.

Hope flies with Swallow wings.

[Page]The cocke already salutes the morne.

I, like a child, will goe by your direction.

Your love hath tast in this.

You are the rising Sun, which I adore.

'Tis only your desert, I know no second cause.

My crosses meete to vexe me.

Successe hath made you wanton.

It is a confidence that well becomes you.

I burne in a sweete flame.

This service is for vertues sake, not for reward.

May your owne rod whip you.

I see your witt's as nimble as your tongue.

Your favours I still taste in great abundance.

Let mee but touch the white pillowes of your naked breasts.

May you be ever happy.

Your pleasure is your own.

Your words, like musicke, please me.

My fancy ryots within me.

You have all circumstances of worth in you.

You feede on wishes.

I prize your love above all the gold in wealthy Indi'as armes.

Your garments are all made of Median silke.

I'le play at kisses with you.

Your Chin hang like an udder.

Here's beauty set in goodnesse.

Give me a naked Lady in a net of gold.

Your fingers are made to quaver on a lute.

Your armes to hang about a Ladies necke.

Your tongue is oyl'd with Courtly flatteries.

[Page]A kisse, is but a minutes joy.

Detraction dares not taxe you.

Your beauti's without limits.

I glory in the building I have rais'd.

You build upon my ruines.

Your words are Delphian Oracles.

My care shall not be wanting.

Your wit hath too much edge.

I am a Cast-away, in love.

You are a flame of beauty.

Sweete and delicious as the feast of love.

The amorous sunne courts the earth with smiles.

Sweete as the breath of lutes, or loves deliciousnesse.

FINIS.

The Errata.

[Page]

PAge 2. l. 6. forget, r. forfeit. p. 6. l. 6. sollary, r. sallary. p. 6 l. 16. I desire, r. pierce. p. 9. l. 1. undeard, r. unheard p. 9. l. 26. inroule, r. involve. p. 20. l. 10. iv'd, r. liv'd. p. 20. l. 12. care, r. car. p. 21. l. 30. us, r. as. p 30. l. 22. a, r. to. p. 35 l. 8. of honour, r. to honour. p. 35. l. 28. strue, r. strive. p. 37. l. 2. straggle, r. struggle. p. 38. l. 6. propogation, r. propagation. p. 41. l. 24. Raysers, r. Raysors. p. 42. l. 19. she path, r. the path. p. 43. l. 14. your, r. you are. p. 44.. l. 8. mke, .r. make. p. 44.. l. 12. hawle, r. hawke. p. 48. l. 16. blesses, r. blysses.

Printed according to Order.

Information about this book

Title statement

VVits labyrinth, or, A briefe and compendious abstract of most witty, ingenious, wise, and learned sentences and phrases together with some hundreds of most pithy, facetious and patheticall complementall expressions / collected, compiled and set forth for the benefit, pleasure or delight of all, but principally the English nobility and gentry by J.S., gent.

Shirley, James, 1596-1666.

Edition statement

1648

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2003-09 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A59997

ID [STC]

Wing S3494

ID [STC]

ESTC R10940

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

13788360

ID [OCLC]

ocm 13788360

ID [VID]

101815

Availability

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Series

Early English books online.

Notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A59997)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 101815)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 849:23)

Source

— VVits labyrinth, or, A briefe and compendious abstract of most witty, ingenious, wise, and learned sentences and phrases together with some hundreds of most pithy, facetious and patheticall complementall expressions / collected, compiled and set forth for the benefit, pleasure or delight of all, but principally the English nobility and gentry by J.S., gent., Shirley, James, 1596-1666..

Extent

[6], 53, [1] p.

Printed for M. Simmons,. London :: 1648.. (Ascribed to James Shirley. Cf. Wing.) (Errata: p. [1] at end.) (Reproduction of original in Huntington Library.)

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