A nights search· Discovering the nature and condition of all sorts of night-walkers; with their associates. As also, the life and death of many of them. Together with divers fearfull and strange accidents, occasioned by such ill livers. Digested into a poeme by Humphry Mill.

SECT. 58. The charge to the Muse, at the entrance into her travels.

GO now, my Muse, (although thou canst not sing Equall with those that charme the wanton spring) Walke o're the golden hiss, the silver vales, And charme the curled groves to heare thy tales. And let the cristall brooks, the pearled streames Stay in their course, to listen to thy theames.

A tree that has no sap, a vale that's growne Barren with time, orraging floods may frowne Vpon thee in thy progresse; never care: Thou hast my blessing, how soere thou fare. Nay, never whine, because thy fathers name Is not advanc'd upon the wings of Fame; Thy worth is ne're the lesle: though some disdaine thee, Be not dismay'd; the rest will entertaine thee.

Beware the Critick: for his shallow braine Drops venome on his tongue: he strives to staine The best of best end evors; never be Discouraged, though Memus carp at thee.

Zoilus his checks are vaine, though envy have Against thy comming, digg'd for thee a grave, 'Tis for herselfe: speake thou the truth, I charge thee; Though malice chayne thee up, time will enlarge thee. To hatch their own disgrace, this brood do sit: They gaine the Serpents sting, but not his wit.

Me thinks this might suffice! it is my will That thou shouldst try the world, I'le own thee still. Though churlish time o'th' suddaine, wil not praise thee, Time may grow gentle, then perhaps't will raise thee.

Thy melancholy sister's gone before: She was regarded, though she was but poore, And lam'd at going forth: she has endur'd A racking torture, she'i ere long be cur'd. She is my first borne: that doth make her boast: But thou art better drest; I love thee most. Thy portion too is more; much care I took To make thee fit for service: do not look To be prefer'd at home: but yet, if men Will not receive thee, come to me agen.

Thou maist in time obtaine a place at Court; Thou wilt not flatter there: some may make sport From what is merry in thee: but they will Soone change their tunes, if they have been as Ill As those which thou hast found; but those that are Wise, sober, modest, bending still their care To serve the King of Kings: Oh! call them blest! And let them bee as patterns to the rest.

Thou need'st not doubt but divers in the City Will cloath thee in thy travels: shew thee pity In thy distresse: for thou to them shalt show Such things, as one of many ne're did know. They'l nurse thee up; and when they presse thee out, They'l spread thy name upon the posts about.

And if with Country gallants thou dost chuse To serve awhile, because thou bring'st them newes, They'l bid thee welcome: thou maist find some there Which thou didst in thy Night, long search for here.

Salute the Poets kindly, let them find Thou did'st not aime at them; 'twas not thy mind

To staine their names: but those who with their wils Are factors to advance lusts viler ils. Never look thou for favour or releif From any Bawd, Pimp, Pander, Whore, or Theif; They'l hurt thee if they can, but take no care; The gallows, or the whip will be their share, When praise is thine: their causes must be try'd. Come, never whimper, law is on thy side.

Thou hast a guard of worthies; none shall wrong Thy innocence, feare nothing, passe along. When thou do'st meet with such, who having spent Their time in sin, yet hell-ward still are bent, Strike home and spare not; quickly settle to it: And if they'are vext, say thou art pre'st to do it. If any change their minds, their waies, their ends, Seeing the shame; imbrace them and be friends. I know this is thy aime, (thy mind is easd) Though thou be angry, thou'lt be quickly pleas'd.

If thou canst keep back any from this vice, Who els might have been lost; they'l raise thy price Above all expectation: then thy fire Will shine, as well as warme: looke thou no higher. So, now thou hast thy Charge: and we must part: Farewell deare SMuse! nor do's it grieve my heart, To part upon these termes. I know e're long Thou'lt change thy Mourning to a plesant song. Let all that heare, or see thee passing by, Wish thee all good successe! and so wish I.