Pierce Penilesse his supplication to the diuell. Written by Tho. Nash, Gent

Pierce Penilesse his Supplication to the Diuell.

HAuing spent many yeeres in studying how to liue, and liu'de a long time with∣out mony: hauing tired my youth with follie, and surfetted my minde with va∣nitie, I began at length to looke backe to repentaunce, & addresse my endeuors to prosperitie: But all in vaine, I sate vp late, and rose eraely, contended with the colde,* 1.1 and conuersed with scarcitie: for all my labours turned to losse, my vulgar Muse was despised & neglected, my paines not regarded or slightly rewarded, and I my selfe (in prime of my best wit) laid open to pouertie. Where∣vpon (in a malecontent humor) I accused my fortune, raild on my patrones, bit my pen, rent my papers, and ragde in all points like a mad man. In which agony tormenting my selfe a long time, I grew by degrees to a milder discontent: and pausing a while e∣uer my standish, I resolued in verse to paint forth my passion: which best agreeing with the vaine of my vnrest,* 1.2 I began to com∣plaine in this sort.

Why ist damnation to dispaire and die, When life is my true happinesse disease? My soule, my soule, thy safetye makes me flie The faultie meanes, that might my paine appease. Diuines and dying men may talke of hell, But in my heart, her seueral tormentes dwell. Ah worthlesse Wit, to traine me to this woe, Deceitfull Artes that nourish Discontent: Ill thriue the Follie that bewitcht me fo,

Vaine thoughts adieu, for now I will repent. And yet my wantes perswade me to proceede. Since none takes pitie of a Scollers neede. Forg••ie 〈◊〉〈◊〉 God, although I curse my birth, And ba•• the aire, wherein I breath a Wretch: Since Miserie hath daunted all my mirth, And I am quite vndone through promise-breach. Oh friends,* 1.3 no friends, that then vngently frowne. When changing Fortune casts vs headlong downe. Without redresse complaines my carelesse verse, And Mydas-cares relent not at my moane: In some far Land will I my griefes reherse, Mongst them that will be mou'd when I shall groane. England (adieu) the Soyle that brought me foorth, A dieu vnkinde, where skill is nothing woorth.

These Rymes thus abruptly set downe, I tost my imagina∣tions a thousand waies to see if I could finde any meanes to re∣lieue my estate: But all my thoughts consorted to this conclusi∣on, that the world was vncharitable, & I ordaind to be miserable. Thereby I grew to consider how many base men that wanted those parts which I had, euioyed content at will, and had wealth at commaund: I cald to minde a Cobler, that was worth fiue hundred pound, an Hostler that had built a goodly Inne & might dispende fortie pound yerely by his Land, a Carre-man in a le∣ther pische, that had whipt out a thousand pound out of his borse taile: and haue I more wit than all these (thought I to my selfe) am I better borne? am I better brought vp? yea and better fa∣uored? and yet am I a begger? What is the cause? how am I crost? or whence is this curse?

Euen from hence, that men that should employ such as I am, are enamoured of their own wits, and thinke what euer they do is excellent, though it be neuer so scuruie: that Learning (of the ig∣norant) is rated after the value of the inke and paper: & a Scri∣uener better paid for an obligation, than a Scholler for the best Poeme he can make; that * euery grosse braind Idiot is suffered to come into print,* 1.4 who if hee set foorth a Pamphlet of the praise of Pudding-pricks, or write a Treatise Tom Thumme, or the

exployts of Vntrusse; it is bought vp thicke and threefold, when better things lie dead. How then can we chuse but be needy, when ther are so many Droans amongst vs? or euer proue rich that toyle a whole yeare for faire lookes. Gentle Sir Phillip Sidney, thou knewst what belongd to a Scholler, thou knewst what paines, what toyle, what trauel conduct to perfection: wel couldst thou giue euery Uertue his encouragement, euery Art his due, euery writer his desert: cause none more vertuous witty, or lear∣ned than thy selfe.

But thou art dead in thy graue, and hast left too few successors of thy glory,* 1.5 too few to cherish the Sons of the Muses, or wa∣ter those budding hopes with their plenty, which thy bounty erst planted.

Beleeue me Gentlemen, for some crosse mishapes haue taught me experience, ther is not that strict obseruation of honour, which hath beene heeretofore. Men of great calling take it of merite, to haue their names eternizde by Poets, & whatsoeuer pamphlet or dedication encounters them, they put it vp in their fleeues, and scare giue him thankes that presents it. Much better is it for those golden Pens, to raise such vngratfull Peasants from the Dung∣hil of obscuritie, and make them equal in fame to the Worthies of olde, when their doting selfe-loue shall challenge it of dutie, and not onely giue them nothing themselues, but impoue••ish libe∣••ality in others.

This is the lamentable condition of our Times, that men of Arte must seeke almes of Cormorantes, and those that deserue best, be kept vnder by Dunces, who count it a policie to keepe them bare, because they should follow their bookes the better: thinking belike, that as preferment hath made themselues idle, that were earst painefull in meaner places, so it would likewise slacken the endeuours of those Students that as yet striue to ex∣cell, in hope of aduauncement. A good policy to suppresse super∣fluous liberalitie. But had it beene practised when they were pro∣moted, the Yeomandry of the Realme had beene better to passe than it is, and one Droane should not haue driuen so many Bees from their hony-combes.

I, I. weele giue loosers leaue to talke, it is no matter what Sicprobo and his pennilesse companions prate, whilest we haue

the gold in our coffers: this is it that will make a knaue an honest man, and my neighbour Cramptons stripling a better Gentle∣man than his Grandsier. O it is a trim thing, when Pride the sonne goes before, and Shame the father followes after. Such presidents there are in our Common-wealth a great many: not so much of them whome Learning and Industry hath exalted, (whom I preferre before Genus and proauos) as of Carterly vp∣starts, that out-face Towne and Country in their Ueluets, when Sir Rowland Russet-coat their Dad, goes sagging euery day in his round Gascoynes of whyce cotton, and hath much a doo (poore pennie-father) to keepe his vnthrift elbowes in reparati∣ons.

Marry happy are they (say I) that haue such fathers to worke for them whilest they play, for where other men turne ouer ma∣ny leaues to get bread and cheese in their old age, and study twen∣tie yeeres to distill golde out of inke; our young maisters doe no∣thing but deuise how to spend and aske counsaile of the Wine and Capons, how they may quickliest consume their pat••imonies. As for me, I liue secure from all such perturbations: for (thankes be to God) I am vacuus viator, and care not though I meete the Commissioners of Newmarket-heath at high midnight, for any Crosses, Images, or Pictures that I carry about me more than needes.

Than needes (quoth I) nay I would de ashamde of it, if Opus and Vsus were not knocking at my doore twentie times a weeke when I am not within; the more is the pittie, that such a franke Gentleman as I, should want: but since the dice do runne so vn∣towardly on my side, I am partly prouided of a remedie. For whereas those that stand most on their honour, haue shut vp their purses, and shifte vs off with court-holie-bread: and on the other side, a number of hypocriticall hot-spurres, that haue God al∣wayes in their mouthes, will giue nothing for Gods sake; I haue clapt vp a handsome S••pplication to the Diuell, and sent it by a good fellow, that I know will deliuer it:

And because you may beleeue me the better, I care not if I ac∣quaint you with the circumstance.

I was infor••de of late dayes, that a certaine blind Ketayler called the Diuell, vsed to lend money vpon paw••es, or any thing,

and would lette one for a neede haue a thousand poundes vp∣pon a Statute Merchant of his soule: or if a man plide him tho∣roughly, would trust him vppon a Bill of his hande without any more circumstance. Besides, he was noted for a priuy Benefactor to Tra••tors and Patasites, and to aduance fooles and Asses far sooner than any, to be a greedy pursuer of newes, and so famous a Politician in purchasing, that Hel (which at the beginning was but an obscure Uillage) is now become a huge Cittie, whereun∣to all Countries are tributary.

These manifest coniectures of Plentic, assembled in one com∣mon-place of abilitie; I determined to clawe Auarice by the el∣bowe, till his full belly gaue mee a full hande, and lette him bloud with my penne (if it might be) in the veyne of liberalitie: and so (in short time) was this Paper-monster Pierce Penilesse begot∣ten.

But written and all, here lies the question; where shal I finde this olde Asse, that I may deliuer it. Masse thats true, they say the Lawyers haue the Diuell and all; and it is like enough he is play∣ing Ambodexter amongst them. Fie, fie, the Diuell a driuer in Westminster hall, it can neuer be.

Now I pray what doe you imagine him to bee? Perhaps you thinke it is not possible he should bee so graue. Oh then you are in an errour, for hee is as formall as the best Scriuener of them all. Marry he doth not vse to weare a night-cap, for his hornes will not let him: and yet I know a hundred as well he aded as he, that will make a iolly shift with a Court-cup on their crownes if the weather be colde.

To proceede with my tale, to Westminster hall I went, and made a search of Enquiry, from the blacke gown to the buckram bagge, if there were any such Sergeant, Bencher, Counsellor, Attorney, or Pettifogger, as Signior Cornuto Diabolo, with the good face. But they al (vnavoce) ••ffirmed, that he was not there: marry whether he were at the Exchaunge or no, amongst the rich Merchantes, that they could not tell: but it was likelier of the two, that I should meet with him, or heare of him at the least in those quarters I faith, and say you so quoth I, and Ile bestowe a little labour more but Ile hunt him out.

Without more circumstance, thither came I; and thrusting my

selfe, as the manner is, amongst the confusion of languages, I asked (as before) whether he were there extant or no? But from one to another, Non noui Damonem was all the answer I could get. At length (as Fortune serued) I lighted vpon on old ••••rad∣ling Usurer, clad in a dam aske cassocke edged with Fox sur, a paire of trimke slops, sagging down like a Shoomakers wallet, and a shorte thrid-bare gown on his backt fac't wich moatheaten budge, vpon his he ad he wore a filt by course biggin, and next it a garnish of night-caps, which a sage butten-cap, of the forme of a cow-sheard ouer spread very orderly: a fat chuffe it was Iremem∣ber, with a gray beard cut short to the stumps, as though it were grimde, and a huge woorme-eaten nose, like a cluster of grapes hanging downe-wardes. Of him I demaunded if hee could tell me any tidings of the partie I sought for.

By my troth quoth he stripling, (and then he cought) I saw him not lately, nor know I certainely where he keepes: but thus much I heard by a Broker a friend of mine, that hath had some dealings with him in his time, that he is at home sicke of the gout and will not bee spoken withal. vnder more than thou art able to giue, some two or three hundred angels at least, if thou hast anie sute to him: & then parhapes hele straine curtesie with his legges in childe-bed, and come forth and talke with thee: but otherwise, Non est domi, hee is busie with Mammon, and the prince of the North, how to build vp his kingdome, or sending his spirites a∣broad to vndermine the maligners of his gouernment.

I hearing of this cold comfort, tooke me leaue of him verie faintly, and like a carelesse malecontent that knew not which way to turne, retired me to Paules to seeke my dinner with Duke Humfrey: but when I came there, the olde souldier was not vp: he is long a rising thought I, but thats all one: for he that hath no mony in his purse, must go dine with sir Iohn Best-betrust, at the signe of the chalk and the Post.

Two hungry turnes had I scarce fetcht in this wast gallery, when I was encountred by a neat pedantical fellow, in forme of a Cittiz••n: who thrasting himselfe abruptly into my companie like an In••elligencer, began very earnestly to question with me about the cau•• of my disco••tent, or what made me so sad, that seemed too yoong to be acquainted with sorrow. I nothing nice to vn∣fold

my estate to any whatsoeuer, discourst to him the whole circumstaunce of my care: and what toyle and paines I had tooke in searching for him that would not be heard of. Why 〈◊〉〈◊〉 (quoth he) had I beene priuie to your purpose before, I could haue easd you of this trauell: for if it be the diuell you seeke for, know I am his man. I pray sir how might I call you? A knight of the Post quoth he, for so I am tearmed: a fellowe that will sweare you any thing for twelue pe••ce,* 1.6 but indeed I am a spirite in nature and essence, that take vpon me this humaine shame, onely to set men together by the eares, and send soules by millons to hell.

Now trust me a substantiall trade, but when doe you thinke you could send next to your maister? why euery day▪ for there is not a cormorant that dies, or Cut-purse that is hanged, but I dispatch letters by his soule to him, and to all my friends in the Low-cuntries: wherefore, if you haue any thing that you would haue transported: giue it me, and I will see it deliuered.

Yes marry haue I (quoth I) a certaine Supplication here vnto your Maister, which you may peruse if it please you. With that he opened it, and read as followeth.

To the high and mightie Prince of Darknesse, Donsell dell Lucifer, King of A∣cheron, Stix and Phlegeton, Duke of Tartary, marquesse of Conytus, and Lord high Regent of Lymbo: his distressed Orator Pierce Penilesse, wisheth encrease of damnati∣on, and malediction eternall, Per Iesum Chri∣stum Dominum nostrum.

MOst humbly sueth vnto your sinfulnes, your sin∣glesoald Orator Pierce Penilesse: that where∣as your impious excellence, hath had the poore tennement of his purse any time this halfe yeer for your dauncing schoole, and he (notwithstan∣ding) hath receiued no peny nor crosse for farme,* 2.1 according to the vsuall manner it may please your gracelesse Ma∣iestie to consider of him, and giue order to your seruant Auarice, he may be dispatched, insomuch as no man heere in London can haue a dauncing schoole without rent, and his wit and knauerie cannot be maintained with nothing. Or if this be not so plausible to your honourable infernalship, it might seeme good to your hel∣hood, to make extent vpon the soules of a number of vncharitable ••ormorants, who hauing incurd the daunger of a Praemunire, with medling with matters that properly concerne your owne person, deserue no longer to liue (as men) amongst men, but to bee incor∣porated in the society of diuels. By which meanes, the mightie controller of fortune, and imperious subuerter of desteny, delici∣ous gold, the poore mans God and Idoll of Princes (that lookes pale and wanne through long imprisonment, might at length be r••∣stored to his powrfull Monar chie, and e••tsoon bee sette at liberty, to helpe his friends that haue neede of him.

I knowe a great sort of good fellowes that would venture farre for his freedom, * and a number of needy Lawyers,* 2.2 (who now mourne in threed-••are gowns for his thra••dome) that would goe neere to poison his keepers with 〈◊〉〈◊〉 La••••ne, ••that might procure his enlargement: but inexora••le y••o•• detaines him in the dungeon of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ so that now (oure c••eatur••) hee can neither traffique wit) the Merce•••• and Tailers as he was wont, nor do∣minere

in Tauernes as he ought.

Famine, Lent, and dessolation, sit in Onyon skind iackets be∣fore the doore of his indurance, as a Chorus in the Tragedy of Hospitality, to tell hunger and pouertie thers no reliefe for them there? and in the inner part of this vgly habitation, stands Gree∣dinesse,* 2.3 prepared to deuoure all that enter, attyred in a Capouch of written parchment, buttond downe before with Labels of wax, and lined with sheepes fels for warmenes: his Cappe furd with cats skins, after the Muscouie fashion, and all to be tasse••d with Angle-hookes in stead of Aglets, ready to catch hold of all those to whom he shewes any humblenes: for his breeches they were made of the lists of broad cloaths, which he had by letters pattents assured him and his heyres, to the vtter ouerthrowe of Bowcases and Cushin makers, and bumbasted they were like Beerebarrels, with statute Marchants and forfeitures. But of al, his shooes were the strangest, which being nothing els but a cou∣ple of crab shels, were toothd at the tooes with two sharp six pen∣nie nailes, that digd vp euery dunghil they came by for gould, and snarld at the stones as he went in the street, because they were so common for men, women and children to tread vpon, and he could not deuise how to wrest an odde fine out of any of them.

Thus walkes hee vp and downe all his life time, with an yron crow in his hand in steed of a staffe, and a Sariants Mace in his mouth▪ (which night and day he still gnawd vpon) & either busies himselfe in setting siluer lime twigs to entangle yoong Gentle∣men, and casting foorth silken shraps to catch Woodcocks, or in syuing of Muckhils and shop-dust, whereof he will boult a whole cartload to gaine a bowd Pinne.

On the other side, Dame Niggardize his wife, in a sedge rug kirtle,* 2.4 that had beene a mat time out of minde, a course hempen raile about her shoulders, borrowed of the one end of a hop-bag, an apron made of Almanackes out of date (such as stand vpon Screens, or on the backside of a dore in a Chandlers shop), and an old wiues pudding pan on her head, thrumd with the parings of her nailes, sate barrelling vp the droppings of hir nose, in steed of oyle to saime wooll withall, and would not aduenture to spit without halfe a dozen porrengers at her elbow.

The house (or rather the hell) where these two Earthwormes

encaptiued this beautifull Substaunce, was vaste, large, strong buildt, and well furnished, all saue the Kitchin: for that was no bigger then the Cookes roome in a ship, with a little court chim∣ney, about the compasse of a Parenthesis in proclamation print: then iudge you what diminutiue dishes came out of this doues∣neast. So likewise of the Buttry, for whereas in houses of such stately foundation that are builte to outward shewe so magnifi∣cent, euery Office is answerable to the Hall, which is principall, there the Buttry was no more but a blind Cole-house vnder a paire of staires, wherein (vprising and downelying) was but one single single kilderkin of small beere, that would make a man with a carrouse of a spoonefull, runne through an Alphabet of faces. Nor vsd they any glasses or cups (as other men) but onely little farthing ounce boxes, whereof one of them fild vp with froath (in manner and forme of an Ale-house) was a meales allow••nce for the whole houshold. It were lamentable to tel what misery the Rattes and Mise endured in this hard world, how when all supply of vittualls failed them, they went a Boot∣haling one night to Sinior Greedinesse bed-chamber, where find∣ing nothing but emp••ines and vastitie, they encountred (after long inquisition) with a cod-peece, wel dunged and manured with greace (which my pinch fartpenie-father had retaind from his Bachelorship, vntill the eating of these presents. Uppon that they set▪ and with a couragious assault rent it cleene away from the breeches, and then carried it in triumph like a coffin on their shoulders betwixt them. The verie spiders and dust-weauers, that wont to set vp their loomes in euery window, decayed and vndone through the extreame dearth of the place, that afforded them no matter to worke on) were constrained to breake against their wills, and goe dwell in the countrey, out of the reach of the broome and the wing: and generally, not aflea nor a cricket that caried any braue minde, that would stay there after he had once tasted the order of their fare. Onely vnfortunate gold (a prede∣stinat slaue to drudges and fooles) liues in endlesse bondage ther amongst them, and may no way be releast, except you send the rot halfe a yeare amongst his keepers, and so make them away with a murrion one after another.

O, but a far greater enormity raigneth in the hart of the Court:

Pride the peruerter of all Uertue,* 2.5 sitteth appareled in the Mar∣chants spoiles, and ruine of yoong Citizens: and scorn••th l••ear∣ning, that gaue their vp-start Fathers, titles of gent••y.

All malcontent sits the greasie son of a Cloathier, & complaines (like a decaied Earle) of the ruine of ancient houses: whereas the Weauers loomes first framed the web of his honor,* 2.6 & the lockes of wool that bushs and brambles haue tooke for tou••e of insolent sheep, that would needs striue for the wall of a firbush, haue made him of the tenths of their tar, a Squier of low degree? and of the collect••ōs of their scatterings, a Iustice Tam Martiquam Mer∣curio, of Peace & of Coram. Hee will bee humorous forsoth, and haue a broode of fashions by himselfe. Sometimes (because Loue commonly weares the liuerey of Wit) hee will be an Inamorat•• Poeta, & sonnet a whole quire of paper in praise of Lady Swin∣snout, his yeolow fac'd Mistres, & weare a feather of her ••ain bea∣ten fan for a fauor, like a fore-horse. Al Italionato is his talke, & his spade peake is as sharpe as if he had been a Pioner before the walls of Roan. Hee will despise the barbarisme of his own Coū∣trey, & tel a whole Legend of lyes of his trauailes vnto Constan∣tinople. If he be challenged to fight, for his delatorye excuse hee obiects, that it is not the custome of the Spaniard or the Ger∣maine, to looke back to euery dog that barks. You shall see a dap∣per Iacke, that hath been but ouer at Deepe, wring his face round about, as a man would stir vp a mustard pot, & talke English through y^e teeth like Iaques Scabd-hams, or Monsieur Min∣go de Moustrap: when (poore slaue) he hath but dipt his bread in wilde Boares greace, a••d come home againe: or been bitten by the shins by a wolfe: and saith, he hath aduentured vpon the Bar∣ricadoes of Gurney or Guingan, and fought with the yong Guise hand to hand.

Some thinke to be counted rare Politicians and Statesmen, by being solitary: as who would say, I am a wise man, a braue man, Secreta mea mihi: Frustra sapit, qui sibi non sapit:* 2.7 and there no man worthy of my companie or friendship: when, although he goes vngartred like a male content Cutpurs••e, & weares his hat ouer his eies like one of the cursed ••rue, yet 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his stabing dag∣ger, or his nittie loue lock keep him out of the legend of fantastical cockscombs. I pray ye good Meū••••er diuel take some order, y^• the

streetes be not pestered with them so as they are. Is it not a pitiful thing that a fellow that eates not a good meales meat in a weeke, but beggereth his belly quite and cleane, to make his backe a certaine kind of brokerly Gentleman: and nowe and then (once or twice in a Tearme) comes to the eighteene pence Ordenary, because hee would bee seen amongst Caualiers and braue courtiers, liuing otherwise all the yeere long with salt Butter and Holland cheese in his chamber, should take vppe a scornfull melancholy in his gate and countenance, and talke as though our common welth were but a mockery of gouernment, and our Maiestrates fooles, who wronged him in not looking into his deserts, not imploying him in State matters, and that if more regard were not had of him very shortly, the whole Realme should haue a misse of him & he would go (I mary would he) where he should be more accounted of?

Is it not wonderfull ill prouided, I say, that this disdainfull companion is not made one of the fraternity of Fooles, to talke before great States, with some olde moth eaten Politician, of mending high waies, and leading Armies into Fraunce?

Ayoong Heyre or Corkney,* 2.8 that is his Mothers Darling, if h••e haue playde the waste-good at the Innes of the Court or about London, and that neither his Students pension, nor his vnthrifts credite will serue to maintaine his Collidge of whores any longer, falles in a quarrelling humor with his fortune, because she made him not King of the Indies, and sweares and stares after ten in the hundreth, that nere a such Pesant as his Father or brother shall keepe him vnder, hee will to the sea and teare the gold out of the Spaniards throats but he will haue it, byrlady when he comes there, poore soule hee lyes in brine in Balist, and is lamentable sicke of the scur∣••ies, his dainty fare is turned to a hungry feast of Dogs & Cats, or Haberdine and poore Iohn at the most, and which is lamenta∣blest of all, that without Mustard.

As a mad Ruffion on a time, being in daunger of shipwrack by a tempest, and seeing all other at their vowes and praiers, that if it would please God of his in••inite goodnesse, to delyuer them out of that imminent daunger, one woulde abiure this sinne wher vnto he was adicted: an other, make satisfaction for

that vyolence he had committed: he in a desperate iest, began thus to reco••cile his soule to heauen.

O Lord, if it may seeme good to thee to deliuer me from this feare of vntimely death, I vowe before thy Throne and all thy starry Host, neuer ••o eate Haberdine more whilest I liue. Well, so it fell out that the Sky cleared, and the tempest ceased, and this carelesse wretch that made such a mockery of praier, readie to set foote a Land, cryed out: not without Mustard good Lord▪ not without Mustard: as though it had been the greatest torment in the world, to haue eaten Haberdine without Mustard. But this by the way, what pennance can be greater for Pride, than to let it swinge in his owne halter? Dulce bellum in expertis, theres no man loues the smooke of his owne Countrey, that hath not beene syngde in the flame of an other soyle It is a pleasante thing ouer a full pot, to read the fable of thirsty Tantalus: but a harder ma••ter ••o disgest salt mea••es at Sea, with stinking water.

An other misery of Pride it is, when men that haue good parts,* 2.9 and beare the name of deepe scholers: cannot be content to partici∣pate one faith with all Christendome, but because they will get a name to their vaineglory, they will set their selfe-loue to studie to inuent new sects of singularitie, thinking to liue when they are dead, by hauing sects called after their names, as Donatists of Donatus Arrians of Arrius: and a number more new faith∣founders that haue made England the exchange of Innouations, and almost asmuch confusion of Religion in euery Quarter, as there was of tongues at the building of the Tower of Babell. Whence, a number that fetch the Articles of their Beleefe out of Aristotle, and thinke of heauen and hell as the Heathen Phi∣losophers, take occasion to deride our Eccles••asticall State, and all Ceremonies of Deuine worship, as bugbeares ••••ar-crowes, because (like Herodes souldiers) we diuide Christs garment amongst vs in so many peeces, and of the vesture of saluation make some of vs Babies and apes coates, others straight trusses and Diuells breeches: some gally-gascoines or a shipmans hose like the Anabaptists and adulterous Familists, others with the Martinist a hood with two faces to hide their hypocrisie: & to con∣clude some like the Barrowists and Green wodians, a garment full of the plague, which is not to be worne before it be new washt.

Hence Atheists triumph and reioyce, and talke as prophanely of the Bible, as of Beuis of Hampton. I heare say there be Mathe∣matitions abroad, that will prooue men before Adam, and they are harboured in high places, who will maintaine it to the death, that there are no diuels.

It is a shame (senior Belzibub) that you should suffer your selfe thus to be tearmed a bastard,* 2.10 or not approue to your prede∣stinate children, not only that they haue a father, but that you are he that must owne them. These are but the s••burbes of the sinne we haue in ha••d: I must describe to you a large cittie, wholy in∣habited with this damnable enormitie.

In one place let me shew you a base Artificer, that hath no re∣uenues to boast on, but a Needle in his bosome;* 2.11 as braue as any Pensiouer or Noble man.

In an other corner, Mistris Minx a Marchants wife, that wil eate no Cherries forsooth, but when they are at twenty shillings a pound,* 2.12 that lookes as simperingly as if she were be smeard, and iets it as gingerly as if she were dancing the Canaries: she is so finicall in her speach, as though she spake nothing but what shee had first sewd ou••r before in her Samplers, and the puling ac∣cent of her voyce is like a famed treble, or ones voyce that inter∣prets to the puppets. What should I tel how squeamish she is in her dyet, what toyle she puts her poore seruaunts vnto, to make her looking glasses in the pauement? how she will not go into the field to cowre on the greene grasse, but she must haue a Coatch for her conuoy: and spends halfe a day in pranking her ••elfe if she be inuited to any strange place? Is not this the excesse of pride signior Sathan? Goe too, you are vnwise, if you make her not a chiefe Saint in your Calender.

The next obiect that encounters my eyes, is some such obscure vpstart gallants,* 2.13 as without desert or seruice are raised from the plough, to be checkmate with Princes: and these I can no better compare than to creatures that are bred Sine coitu, as cricket•• in chimni••s, to which I resemble poore Scullians, that from tur∣ning spit in the chimney corner, are on the sodaine hoised vp from the Kitchin into the waiting chamber, or made Barons of the bieu••••, and Marquesses of the Marybones: some by corrupt wa∣ter, as g••ate, to which we may liken Brewers, that by re••ayling

••ilthy Thames water, come in few yeares to bee worth fortie or fiftie thousand pound: others by dead wine, as little flying wormes, and so the Uintners in like case: others by slime as frogs, which may be ••lluded to Mother Bunches slimie ale, that hath made her, and some other of her fil-pot facultie so wealthie: others by dirt, as wormes, and so I know many gold-finers and bostlers come vp: some by hearbes, as cankers, and after the fame sort our Apothecaries: others by ashes as Scarabes: and how else get our Colliers the pence? Others from the putrified flesh of dead beasts, as Bees of Buls, and Butchers by fli-blown beefe, waspes of horsses, and Hackney-men by selling their lame iades to hunts-men for carrion.

Yet am I not against it,* 2.14 that these men by their mechanicall trades should come to be Sparage Gentlemen, and chuff-headed Burghomasters: but that better places should bee possessed by coystrels, and the Coblers crowe for crying but Aue Coesar, bee more esteemed than rarer birds that haue warbled sweeter notes vnrewarded. B••t it is no meruaile: For as Hemlock fatteth Quailes, and Henban•• Swine, which to all other is poyson: so some mens vices haue power to aduaunce them which would subuert any else that should seeke to climbe by them: and it is in∣ough in them that they can pare their nailes well to get them a li∣uing, when as the seauen liberall Sctences and a good leg, will scarse get a scholler a paire of shoos, and a Canuas-dublet.

These whelpes of the first Litter of Gentilitie, these Exhalati∣ons, drawne vp to the heauen of honor, from the dunghill of abiect fortune, haue long been on horseback to come riding to your Di∣uelship: but I knowe not howe like Saint George they are al∣waies mounted, but neuer moue. Here they out-face Towne and countrey, and doo nothing but bandie factions with their betters. Theyr big limbes yeelde the Common-wealth no other seruice but idle sweate, and theyr heads like rough he wen Gloabes, are fit for nothing but to be the blockhouses of sleepe. Raynold the Fox may well beare vp his taile in the Lions denne, but when he comes abroad, hee is afraid of euery dogge that barkes. What Cur wil not bawle, and be ready to flie in a mans face, when he is set on by his maister, who if hee bee not by, to encourage him, he casts his taile betwixt his legs, & steales away like a sheepbyter.

Vlisses was a tall man vnder Aiax shield: but by himselfe hee would neuer aduenture but in the night. Pride is neuer built but vpon some pillers: and let his supporters faile him neuer so little, you shall finde him very humble in the dust. Wit oftentimes stands in stead of a chiefe arche to vnderproppe it, in souldiers strength, in women beautie.

Drudges,* 2.15 that haue no extraordinarie gifts of body, nor of minde, filche themselues into some Noble mans seruice, either by bribes or by flattery, and when they are there, they so labour it with cap and knee, and plie it with priuie whisperings, that they wring themselues into his good opinion ere he be aware. Then do they vaunt themselues ouer the common multitude, and are ••eadie to outbraue any man that stands by himselfe. Their Lords authoritie is as a rebater to beare vp the Peacocks taile of theyr boasting, and any thing that is said or doone to the vnhandsoming of their ambition, is straight wrested to the name of treson. Thus do weeds grow vp whiles no man regards them, and the Ship of Fooles is arriued in the Hauen of Felicitie, whilst the scoutes of Enuie contemne the attempts of any such small Ba••kes.

But beware you that be great mens Fauorites: let not a ser∣uile insinuating slaue creepe betwixt your legs into credit with your Lords: for pesants that come out of the colde of pouertie, once cherisht in the bosome of prosperitie, will straight forget that euer there was a winter of want, or who gaue them roome to warme them. The sonne of a churle cannot chuse but prooue in∣gratefull like his Father. Trust not a villaine that hath beene miserable, and is sodainly growne happie. Uertue ascendeth by degrees of desert vnto dignitie: golde and lust may lead a man a nearer way to promotion: but he that hath neither comlinesse nor coine to commend him, vndoubtedly strides ouer time by strata∣gems, * if of a mole-hil hee growes to a mountaine in a moment.* 2.16 This is that which I vrge, there is no friendship to be had with him, that is resolute to doe or suffer any thing, rather than to en∣dure the destinie whereto he was borne: for he will not spare his owne Father or Brother, to make himselfe a Gentleman.

Fraunce, Italy,* 2.17 and Spaine, are all full of these false hearted Machiuillions: but properly Pride is the disease of the Spani∣ard, who is borne a Bragart in his mothers wombe: for if he be

but 17 yeeres old and hath come to the place where a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was tought (though halfe a yeare before) he then talks like one of the Giants that made warre against Heauen, and stands vppon his honour as much, as if hee were one of Augustus Souldiers, of whom he first instituted the order of Heralds: and let a man sooth him in his vaine of kilcow vanitie, you may commau••d his heart out of his belly to make you a rasher on the coales, if you will next your heart.

The Italian is a more cunning proud fellowe,* 2.18 that hides his humour far cleanlier, and indeed seemes to take a pride in humi∣litie, and will profer a straunger more curtesie than hee meanes to performe. Hee hateth him deadly that takes him at his word: as for example, if vpon occasion of meeting, be request you to din∣ner or supper at his house, and that at the first or second intre••tie you promise to bee his guest, he will be the mortalst enemie you haue: but if you deny him, he will thinke you haue manners and good bringing vp, and will loue you as his brother: marry at the third or fourth time you must not refuse him. Of all things he counteth it a mighty disgrace to haue a man passe iustling by him in hast on a narrowe causey, and aske him no ••eaue, which he ne∣uer reuengeth with lesse then a s••ab.

The Frenchman (not altered from his owne nature) is whol∣ly compact of deceiuable Courtship,* 2.19 and for the most part, loues none but himselfe and his pleasure: yet though he be the most Grand Signeur of them all, he will say, Avostre seruice & com∣mandemente Mounseur, to the meanest vassaile he meets. Hee thinkes he doth a great fauour to that gentleman or follower of his, to whom he talks sitting on his close stoole: and with that ••a∣uour (I haue heard) the queene mother wonted to grace the No∣ble men of France: and a great man of their Nation comming in time past ouer into England, and beeing heere very honourably receiued, he in requital of his admirable entertainment, on an e∣uening going to the priuie (as it were to houour extraordinaryly our english Lords, appointed to attend him) gaue one the candle, another his girdle, & another the paper: but they (not acquainted with this newe kinde of gracing) accompanying bim•••• ••he priuy dore, set down the trash, & so left him: which ••e (considering what k••••dnes he extended to thē thei in more than vsual) took 〈◊〉〈◊〉

The most grosse and sencelesse proud dolts (in a different kind from all these) are the Danes:* 2.20 who stand so much vpon their vn∣w••ldy burlibo and souldiery, that they account of no man that hath not a battle Axe at his girdle to hough dogs with, or weares not a cockes feather in a redde thrumd hat like a cau••lier:* 2.21 briefly, he is the best foole bragart vnder heauen. For besides, nature hath left him a flaberkin face, like one of the foure winds, and cheekes that sag like a womans dogs ouer his chin-bone, his ap∣parel is so puft vp with bladders of Taffarie, and his back like biefe stuft with Partly, so drawne out with Ribands and deuises, and blisterd with light sarcenet bastings, that you would thinke him nothing but a ••warme of Butterflies, if you saw him a farre off. * Thus walkes he vp and downe in his Maiestie, taking a yard of ground at euery step, and stamps on the earth so terrible as if he ment to knocke vppe a'spirite, when (foule drunken bez∣zle) if an Englishman set his little finger to him, he falles like a hogs-trough that is set on one end. Therfore I am the more ••e∣hement against them, because they are an arrogant Asse-headed people, that naturally hate learning, and all them that loue it: yea, and for they would vtterly roote it out from among them, they ••aue withdrawen alrewards from the Professors therof. Not Barbary it selfe is halfe so barbarous as they are. First, whereas the hope of honor maketh a Souldior in England. By shopricks, Deanries, Prebendaries, and other priuate dignities, animate our Diuines to such excelence. The ciuil Lawyers haue their degrees & consistories of honour by themselues, equal in place with Knights and Esquiers: the common Lawyers, (suppose in the beginning they are but husband-mens sons) come in time to be chiefe Fathers of the land, and manie of them not the meanest of the Priuie Counsell.

There the souldiour may fight himselfe out of his skinne, and do more exploites than he hath doytes in his purse,* 2.22 before from a common mercenary, he come to be Corporal of the mould cheese: or the Lieutenant get a Captainship. None but the son of a Cor∣porall must be a Corporall, nor any be Captaine, but the lawfull begotten of a C••ptaines body. Bishopricks, Deancies, Preben∣daries, why they know no such functi••ns: a sort of ragged Mini∣sters they haue, of whom they count as basely, as water-bearers.

If any of their Noblemen refraine three howers in his life time from drinking, to study the Lawes, hee may peth••ps heue a lit∣tle more gouernment put into his hands than another: but ••th••r∣wise, Burgomasters and Gentlemen beare all the swaye of both swords, spirituall and temporall. It is death there for anie but a husbandman to marry a husbandmans daughter, or a Gentle∣mans childe to ioyne with any but the sonne of a Gentleman, marry this the King may well banish, but hee cannot put a Ge••∣tleman vnto death in any cause whatsoeuer, which makes them stand vppon it so proudly as they doe. For fashion sake some will put their children to schoole, but they set them not to it till they are foureteene yeere olde: so that you shall see a great boy with a beard learne his ABC. and sit weeping vnder the rod, when he is thirtie yeeres old.

I will not stande to inferre, what a preiudice it is to the thrist of a florishing State, to poyson the growth of glory,* 2.23 by giuing it nought but the puddle water of penury to drinke: to clippe the winges of a high towring Faulcon, who, wher as she wont in her feathered youthfulnesse, to looke with an amiable eye vppon her gray breast, and her speckled side sayles, all sinnowed with siluer quilles, and to dryue whole Armies of fearefull fowle before her to her maisters Table: now she sits sadly on the ground, picking of wormes, mourning the crueltie of those vngentleman-like idle hands, that dismembred the beauty of her t••ayne.

You all knowe, that man (insomuch as hee is the Image of God) delighteth in honour and worship, and all holy Writ war∣rantes that delight, so it bee not derogatory to any part of Gods owne worship: now take away that delight, abiscontented idle∣nesse ouertakes him. For his hire, any handycraft man, be he Car∣penter, Ioyner, or Painter, wil ploddingly do his day labor: but to adde credit and fame to his workmanship, or to winne a maistery to himselfe aboue all other, hee will make a further assay in his, trade, than euer hitherto he did, hee will haue a thousand florishes which before he neuer thought vpon, and in one day ridde more out of hand, than earst hee did in ten: So in Armes, so in Artes, if titles of fame and glory be proposed to forward minds, or that soueraigntie (whose sweetnes they haue not yet felt) be set in like∣ly view for them to sore too, they will make a ladder of cord of the

links of of their braines, but they will fasten their handes as well as their eies, on the imaginatiue blisse, which they already enioy by admiration. Experience reproues me for a foole, for dilating on so manifest a case.

The Da••es are bursten-bellied sots, that are to bee confuted with nothing but Tankards or quart pots, and Ouid might as well haue read his verses to the Getes that vnderstood him not, as a man talk reason to them that haue no eares but their mouths nor sense but of that which they swallowe downe their throates. God so loue me, as I loue the quicke-witted Italians, and there∣fore loue them the more, because they mortally detest this surley swinish Generation.

I need not fetch colours from other countries to paint the vg∣lie visage of Pride, since herpicture is set forth in so many painted faces here at home. What drugs, what sorceries, what oiles, what waters, what oyntments, doe our curious Dames vse to inlarge their withered beauties? Their lips are as lauishly red, as if they vsed to kisse an ••okerman euery morning, and their cheeks suger∣candied and cherry blusht so sweetly, after the colour of a newe Lord Mayors postes, as if the pageant of their wedlocke holiday were harde at the doore; so that if a Painter were to drawe any of their Counterfets on Table, he needes no more but wet his pencill, and dab it on their cheekes, and he shall haue vermillion and white enough to furnish out his worke, though he leaue his tar-boxe at home behind him. Wise was that sin-washing Po∣et that made the Ballet of Blue starch and poaking stickes, for indeed the lawne of licentiousnesse hath consumed all the wheat of hospitalitie. It is said Laurence Lucifer, that you went vp and downe London crying then like a lanterne & candle man. I meruaile no Laundrsse would giue you the washing and star∣ching of your face for your labour, for God knowes it is as black as the blacke Prince.

It is suspected you haue beene a great Tobacco taker in your youth, which causeth it to come so to passe: but Dame Na∣ture your nurse was partly in fault, else she might haue remedied it. She should haue noynted your face ouernight with Lac vir∣ginis, which baking vpon it in bed till the morning, she might haue pild off the scale like the skiu of a custard, and making a pos∣set

of vergis mixt with the oyle of Tartary and Camphier, bathde it in it a quarter of an houre, and you had been as faire as the floure of the frying pan. I warrant we haue old hacksters in this great Grandmother of Corporations, Madame Troyno∣uant, that haue not backbited any of thei•• neighbours with the tooth of enuy this twentie yeare, in the wrinckles of whose face, ye may hide false dice, and play at cherry-pit in the dint of their cheekes, yet these aged mothers of iniquitie will haue their de∣for••••••••es newe plaistred ouer, and weare nosegayes of yeolow haire on their furies foreheads, when age hath written Hoe God be here, on their bald burnt parchment pates. Pish, pish, what talke you of old age or balde pates? men and women that haue gone vnder the South pole, must lay off their furde night-caps in spight of their teeth, and become yeomen of the Uineger bot∣tle: a close periwig hides all the sinnes of an olde whore-master, but Cucullus non facit Monachum: tis not their newe bonnets will keepe them from the old boan-ach. Ware when a mans sins are written on his ey-browes, and that there is not a haire bredth betwixt them and the falling sicknes. The times are daunge∣rous: and this is an yron age, or rather no yron age, for swordes and bucklers goe to pawne a pace in Long-Lane: but a tinne age; for tinne and pewter are more esteemed than Latine. You that bee wise despise it, abhorre it, neglect it; for what shoulde a man care for gold that cannot get it.

An A••tiquarie is an honest man, for hee had rather scrape a peece of copper out of the durt,* 2.24 than a crowne out of Ploydens standish. I know many wise Gentlemen of this mustie vocation, who out of loue with the times wherein they liue, fall a retayling of Alexanders stirrops▪ because (in veritie) there is not suche a strong peece of stretching leather made now adayes, nor yron so well tempred for any money. They will blow their nose in a boxe, & say it is the spettle that Diogenes spet in ones face: who being inuit 〈◊〉〈◊〉 dinner to his house, that was neat & braue in all points as might be deuised; and the grunting Dogge somewhat trou∣bled with thertheume (by meanes of his long fasting and staying for dinner more than wont) spet full in his Hostesse face: and bee∣ing askt the reason of it, said; it was the foulest place he could spie out in all his house. Let their Mistresse (or some other woman)

giue them a feather of her fanne for her fau••ur, and if one aske them what it is? they make answer, a plume of the Phenix, wh••r∣of there is but one in all the whole world. A thousand guegawes and toyes haue they in their chambers, which they heape vp toge∣ther withinfinite expence, and are made beleeue of them that sell them, that they are rare and pretious thinges, when they haue gathered them vpon some dunghill, or rakte them out of the kennell by chance. I know one sold an old rope with foure knots on it for foure pound, in that he gaue it out, it was the length and breadth of Christs Tombe. Let a Tinker take a peece of brasse worth a halfe penie, and set strange stamps on it, and I warrant he may make it more worth to him of some fantasticall foole, than all the kettels that euer be mended in his life. This is the disease of our newfangled humorists, that know not what to doe with their welth. It argueth a very rusty witte, so to deate on worme-eaten Elde.

OUt vpon it, how long is Pride a dr••ssing her selfe?* 2.25 Enuie a∣wake for thou must appear before Nicalao Maleuolo great Muster maister of hell. Marke you this she mate, how smoothly hee lookes? The Poets were ill aduised, that famed him to be a leane gag toothd Beldam with hollow eyes, pale cheeks, and sna∣kie heire: for he is not onely a man, but a iolly lusty old Gentle∣man, that will winke, and laugh, and ieast drily, as if he were the honestest of a thousand: and I warrant you shall not heare a foule word come from him in a yeare. I wil not contradict it, but the Dog may worry a sheepe in the dark, & thrust his necke i••to the collar of clemency & pity when he hath don: as who shold say, God forgiue him, hee was a sleepe in the shambles, when the innocent was done to death. But openly, Enuie sets a ciuil fatherly coun∣tenance vpon it, & hath not so much as a drop of bloud in his face to attaint him of murther. I thought it expedient in this my Sup∣plication, to place it next to Pride: for it is his adopted sonne. And hence comes it, that proud men repine at others prosperitie, and greeue that any should be great but themselues Mens cuiusque, is est quisque: it is a Prouerbe that is as hoary as Dutch-b••tter. If a man wil go to the diuell, he may go to the diuell: there are a thousand iugling tricks to be vsed at ••ey passe come aloft: & the world hath cords enough to trus vp a calf that stands in ons way

Enuie is a Crocodile that weepes when he kils, and fights with none but he feedes on. This is the nature of this quick-sighted monster, he will endure any paynes to endamage another, waste his body with vnder-taking exploytes that would require tenne mens strengths, rather than any should get a penny but himselfe, bleare his eyes to stand in his neighbours light; and to conclude, like Atlas vnder-proppe heauen alone, rather than any should be in heauen that hee likte not of, or come vnto heauen by any other meanes but by him.

You goodman wandrer about the world, how doe yee spende your time, that you do not rid vs of these pestilent members? you are vnworthy to haue an office if you can execute it no better. Behold another enemy of mankinde besides thy selfe exalted in the South,* 2.26 Philip of Spaine, who not content to bee the God of gold, and chiefest commaunder of content that Europe affoords, but now he doth nothing but thirst after huma••e bloud, when his foot is on the thre sholde of the graue: and as a Wolfe beeing a∣bout to deuoure a horse, doth balist his belly with earth, that hee may hang the heauier vppon him, and then forcibly flyes in his face, neuer leauing his hold till he hath eaten him vp: so this wol∣uish vnnaturall vsurper, being about to deuoure all Christendom by inuasion, doth cram his treasures with Indian earth, to make his malice more forcible, and then flyes in the bosome of Fraunce and Belgia, neuer withdrawing his forces (as the Wolfe his fast¦ning) till he hath deuoured their welfare, & made the war-wasted carcases of both kingdomes a pray for his tyranny, Onely poore England giues him bread for his cake, and holdes him out at the armes end. His Armadoes (y^• like a high wood ouer-shadowed the shrubs of our low ships) fled from the breath of our Cannons, as vapors before the Sun, or as the Elephant flies from the Ram, or the Se a Whale from the noyse of parched bones. The winds en∣uying that the a••••e should be dimmed with such a Chaos of wod∣den clouds, raised vp high bulwarks of bellowing waues, whence Death shot at their disordred Nauy: and the Rockes with their ouer-hanging iawes, eate vp all the fragments of oake that they left. So perisht our foes, so the Heauens did fight for vs. Pra∣terit Hippomenes, reson int spectacula plausu.

I do not doubt (Doctor Diuell) but you were present in this

action or passion rather, and helpt to bore holes in ships, to make them sinke faster; and rence out Galley-foistes with salt wa••••r, that stunke like fustie barrels wit their Maisters feare. It will be a good while hre you doe as much for the King, as you did for his subiects. I would haue ye perswade an Armie of goutie Usurers to go to Sea vppon a boon voyage: trie if you can tempt Enuy to embarke himself in the ma•••• aduenture, and leaue troubling the streame, that Poets and good fellowes may drinke, and Souldi∣ers may sing Place••o, that haue murmured so long at the waters of strife.

But that wil neuer be: for so long as Pride, Riot, and whore∣dome are the companions of yoong Courtiers, they wil alwayes hee hungry, and ready to bite at euery Dog that hath a boane gi∣uen him beside themselues. Iesu, what secret grudge and rancor raignes amongst them, one being ready to dispaire of himself, if he see the Prince but giue his fellow a faire looke: or to die for griefe if he be put down in brauery neuer so little. Yet this custome haue our false harts fetcht from other countries, that they will sweare and protest loue, where they hate deadly, and smile on him most kindly, whose subuersion in soule they haue vowed. Fraus sublimi regnat in dula T•••• rare to finde a true frend in Kings Pallaces; Either thou must be so miserable, that thou fall into the hands of scornful pitie, or thou 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not escape the sting of enuy. In one thought assemble the famous men of all ages, and tel me which of them all sate in the sun-shine of his soueraignes grace, or wext great of low beginnings, but he was spiteblasted, heaued at, & ill spoken of: and that of those that bare them most countenaunce. But were enuy nought but wordes, it might seeme to bee onely womens sinne:* 2.27 but it hath a lewde mate hanging on his s••eeue, called Murther, a sterne fellowe, that (like a Spanyard in fight) aymeth all all at the heart: hee hath more shapes than Proteus, and will shifte himselfe vppon any occasion of r••uengement, into a mans dish, his drinke, his apparell, his ringes, his stirrops, his 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

O Italy, * the Academie of man-slaughter,* 2.28 the sporting place of murther, the Apothe car•• shop of poyson for all Nations: how many kind of weapons hast thou inuented for malice? Suppose I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 mans 〈◊〉〈◊〉 whose hust and yet liues, and cannot enioy

her for his iealong ouer-looking: Physicke, or rather the art of murther (as it may be vsed) will lend one a Medicine which shall make him away, in the nature of that disease he is most subiect to, whether in the space of a yeare, a moneth halfe a yeare, or what tract of time you will, more or lesse.

In Rome the Papal Chayre is washt euery fiue yeare at the ••urthest with this oyle of Aconitum. I pray God the King of Spayne feasted not our holy father Sextus, that was last, with such conserue of He••bane, for it was credibly reported hee loued him not, & this that is now, is a God made with his owne hands as it may appeare by the Pasquil that was set vp of him,* 2.29 in ma∣nner of a note, presently after his election. Sol, Re, Me, Fa, that is to say: Solus Rex me facit; onely the K. of Spaine made me Pope. I am no Chronicler from our owne Countrey, but if pro∣bable suspition might bee heard vppon his oath, I thinke some mens soules would not bee canonized for Martyres, that on the earth did sway it as Monarches.

Is it your will and pleasure (noble Lants-graue of Lymbo) to let vs haue lesse carousing to your health in poison, fewer vnder ha••d conspirings, or open quarrels, executed onely in wordes, as they are in the world now a dayes: & if men wil needs carouse, conspire, and quarrell, that they may make Ruffians hall of Hell: and there, bandy balles of Brimstone at one another shead, and not trouble our peaceable Paradise with their priuate but libur∣lies about strumpets, where no weapon (as in Adams Paradise) should bee named: but onely the Angell of prouidence stand with a fiery sword at the gate, to keep out our enemies.

APerturbation of mind (like vnto Enuy) is Wrath,* 2.30 which looketh farre lower than the former: For whereas Enuie cannot be saide to bee, but in respect of our Superiours, Wrath respecteth no degrees nor persons▪ but is equally armed agaynst all that offende him. A hare-braind little Dwarfe it is, with a swarth visage, that hath his hart at his tongues end, if he becon∣traride, and will be sure to do no right nor take no wrong.* 2.31 If hee bee a Iudge or a Iustice, (as some-times the Lyon comes to giue sentence against the Lamb) then he sweares by nothing but by Saint Tyborne, & makes Newgate a Nowne Substantiue,

whereto all his other words are but Adiectiues.* 2.32 Lightly hee is an olde man: (for those ••eares are most wayward and teatish) yet be he neuer so old or so froward, since Auarice like-wise is a fellow vice of those fraile years, wee must set one extreame to striue with another, and alay the anger of oppression, by the sweet incense of a new purse of angels: or the doting Planet may haue such predominance in these wicked Elders of Israel, that if you send your wife or some other female to plead for you, shee may get your pardon vpon promise of better acquaintance. But whist, these are the workes of darknesse and may not be talkt of in the day time: Fury is a heate or fire, & must bee quencht with maides water.

Amongst other cholericke wise Iustices,* 2.33 he was one, that ha∣uing a play presented before him and his Towne-ship, by Tarl∣ton and the rest of his fellowes her Maiesties seruants, and they were now entring into their first merriment (as they call it) the people began exceedingly to laugh, when Tarlton first peept out his head. Where at the Iustice not a little moued, and seeing with his beckes and nods hee could not make them cease, he went with his staffe, and beat them round about vnmercifully on the bare pates, in that they being but Farmers & poore countrey Hyndes would presume to laugh at the Queenes men, and make no more account of her cloath in his presence.

The causes conducting vnto wrath are as diuers,* 2.34 as the acti∣ons of a mans life. Some will take on like a mad man, if they see a pigge come to the ••able. Sotericus the Surgeon was chole∣ricke at the sight of Sturg••on. The Irishman will drawe his dagger, and bee ready to kill and slay, if one breake winde in his company: and so some of our English men that are Souldiers, if one giue them the lye: but these are light matters, whereof Pierce complaineth not.

Be aduertis••d Master Os foetidum, Bedle of the Blacke∣smithes, that Lawyers cannot deuise which way in the world to begg••, they are so troubled with brabblements and sutes euery Tearme, of Yeomen and Gentlemen that fall out for nothing.

If Iohn a Nokes his henne doo but leap into Elizabeth de Gappes close, shee will neuer leaue to haunt her husband. ••ll be bring it to a Nisiprius. O•••• while, the Parson sueth the

parishioner for bringing home his tythes: another while, the Pa∣rishioner sueth the Parson for not takinge away his Tythes in time.

I heard a tale of a Butcher,* 2.35 who driuing two Calues ouer a Com-mon, that were coupled together by the neckes with an Oken With, in the way wher they shold passe, there lay a poore leane Marewith a galde backe, to whome they comming (as chance fell out) one of one side, and the other of the other, smel∣ling on her (as their manner is) the midst of the With that was betwixt the•••• ••ecks, rubd her and grated her on the sore backe, that shee started and rose vp, and hung them both on her backe as a beame, which being but a rough plaister to her raw vlcer, shee ran away with them (as she were fran-tick) into the Fens, where the Butcher could not follow them, and drownde both her selfe and them in a Quagmyre. Now the owner of the Mare is in lawe with the Butcher for the losse of his Mare, and the But∣cher enter changabley endites him for his Calues. I pray ye Ti∣mothy Tempter, bee an Arbitrator bee twixt them, and couple them both by the neckes (as the Calues were) and carry them to Hel on your backe, and then I hope they wyll be quiet.

The chiefe spur vnto wrath is Drunkennes, which as the touch of an Ashenbough, causeth a gidinesse in the Uipers head, and the Batte lightly strooke with the leafe of a Tree, loseth his remembrance: so they being but lightly sprinckled with the iuyce of the Hop, become sencelesse, and haue their reason stroo••en blind, as soone as euer the Cup scaleth the Fortresse of their Nose. Then run their words at random like a dog that hath lost his master, and are vppe with this man and that man, and gene∣rally inuay against al men: but those that keep a wet corner for a friend, and will not thinke scorne to drinke with a good fellowe and a Souldiour: and so long do they practise this vaine on their Ale-bench, that when they are sober they cannot leaue it. There be those that get their liuing al the yeere long, by nothing but ••ayling.* 2.36

Not Farre from Chester, I knewe an odde foule mouthde knaue, called Charles the Fryer, that had a face so pa••boyled with mens spitting on it, and a b••cke so often knighted in Bride∣well, that it was impossible for any shame or punishment, to terri∣f••e

him from ill speaking, Noblemen he would liken to more vg∣ly things than himself: some to After my hartie commendations, with a dash ouer the head: others, to guilded chines of beefe, or a shoomaker sweating, when he puls on a shoo: another to an old verse in Cato, Ad consilium ne accesseris antequam voceris: ano∣ther, to a Spanish Codpisse: another, that his face was not yet fi∣nisht, with such like innumerable absurd illusions: yea, what was he in the Court, but he had a comparison in stead of a Cap∣ta••e to put him in. Upon a time being chalenged at his owne wea∣pon in a priuate Chamber, by a great personage, (rayling I meane) he so far outstript him in vilanious words, and ouerban∣died him in bitter tearmes, that the name of sport could not per∣swade him patience, nor containe his furie in any degrees of ieast, but needs hee must wreake himselfe vppon him: neither would a common reuenge suffice him, his displeasure was so infinite (and it may be common reuenges he tooke before, as far as the whip∣cord would stretch, vpon like prouokements) wherefore he cau∣sed his men to take him, and brickt him vp in a narrow chimney, that was Neque maior neque minor corpore locato, where he fed him for fifteene dayes with dread an•• water through a hole, let∣ting him sleep standing if he would, for lye or sit he could not, and then he let him out to see if he could learne to rule his tongue any better.

It is a disparagement to those that haue any true sparke of Gentilitie, to be noted of the whole world so to delight in detrac∣ting, that they should keepe a venemous toothd Cur, and feed him with the crums that fall from their table, to do nothing but bite e∣uery one by the shins that passe by. If they will needes be merry, let them haue a foole and not a knaue to disport them, and seeke some other to b••stow their aliues on, than such an impudent beg∣ger.

As there be those that rayle at all men, so there be those that raile at all Arts, as Cornelius Agrippa De vanitate scientia∣rum, and a Treatise that I haue se••ne in dispraise of learning, where he saith, it is the corrupter of the simple, the schoolemaister of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the storehouse of treacherie, the reuiuer of vices, and mo∣ther of cowardiz alledging many examples, how there was ne∣uer man egregiously euill, but he was a Scholler: that when the

vse of letters was first inuented, the Golden World ceased, Faci∣nusque i••uasit mortales: how studie dooth effeminate a man, dim his sight, weaken his brai••e, and ingender a thousand diseases. Small learning would serue to confute so manifest a scandale, and I••magine all men like my selfe so vnmoueablie resolued of the excellencie thereof, that (will not by the vnderpropping of confu••ation seeme to giue the idle wi••ted a duer sarye so much en∣couragement,* 2.37 as hee should surmize his superficiall arguments had shaken the foundation of it: against which hee could neuer ha••e 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his penne, if her selfe had not helpt him to hurte h••r selfe.

With the enemies of Poetrie,* 2.38 I care not if I haue about, and those are they that tear me our best Writers but babling Ballat∣makers, holding them fantasticall fooles, that haue wit, but can∣not tell how to vse it, I my selfe haue beene so censured among some dul-heade•• * Diuimes: who deeme it no more cunning to wryte an exquisite Poem, than to preach pure Caluin, or di∣still the iustice of a Commentary in a quarter S••rmon, Prooue it when you will, you'slowe spirited Saturnists, that haue no∣thing but the pilfr••es of your penne, to pollish an exhor••ation withall: no eloquence but Tautologies, to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of, your Auditorye vnto you: no inuention but heere is to bee noted, I stoale this note out of Beza or Marlorat: no wit to mooue, no passion to vrge, but onelye•• an ordinarie forme of preaching, blowne vp by vse of often heating and speaking and you shall finde there goes more exquisite paines and puri∣tie of witte, to the writing of one such 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Poem as Rosa∣mond, than to a hundred of your dunsticall * S••rmons.

Should we (as you) borrowe all out of others, and gather nothing of our selues, our names should bee baffuld on eue∣rie Booke-sellers Stall, and not a Chandlers Mustard-pot but would wipe his mouthe with our wast paper. Newe Herings, new, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 must crye, euery time wee make our selues publique, or else we shall bee 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with a hundred newe tytles of Idiotis••••e. Nor in Poetrie an Arte, where of there is no vse in a mans whole lyfe, but to describe discontented thoughts and yout•• full desires: for there is no studie, but it dooth illustrate and beauti••ie. How admirablie shine those Di∣uines

about the common mediocritie, that haue tasted the sweete springs of Pernassus?

Siluer tongu'•• Smith whose well tun'd stile hath made thy death the generall teares of the Muses,* 2.39 queintlie couldst thou de∣uise heauenly Ditties to Apolloes Lute, and teach stately verse to trip it as smoothly, as if Ouid and thou had but one soule▪ Hence alone did it proceed, that thou wert such a plausible pulpit man that before thou entredst into the rough waies of Theologie, thou refinedst, preparedst, and purifidest thy minde with sweete Poetrie. If a simple mans censure may be admitted to speake in such an open Theater of opinions, I neuer saw aboundant rea∣ding better mixt with delight, or sentences which no man can challenge of prophane affectation, sounding more melodious to the eare or piercing more deepe to the heart.

To them that demaund what fruites the Poets of our time bring forth,* 2.40 or wherein they are able to proue themselues neces∣sary to the state. Thus I answere. First and for most, th••y haue cleansed our language from barbarisme and made the vulgar sort here in London (which is the fountaine whose riuers flowe round about England) to aspire to a richer puritie of speach, than is communicated with the Comminaltie of any Nation vnder ••eauen. The vertuous by their praises they encourage to be more vertuous, to vicious men they are as in••ernall hags to haunt their ghosts with eternall infamie after death. The Souldier in hope to haue his high deeds celebrated by their pens, despiseth a whole Armie of perills, and acteth wonders exceeding all humane con∣iecture. Those that care neither for God nor the diuell, by their quills are keept in awe. Multi famam (saith one) pauci conscien∣tiam verentur.

Let God see what he will, they would be loath to haue the shame of the world.* 2.41 What age will not praise immortal Sir Phil∣lip Sidney, whom noble Salustius (that thrice siguler french Poet) hath famoused: together with Sir Nicholas Bacon Lord keeper, & merry sir Thomas Moore, for the chiefe pillers of our english speech. Not so much but Chaucers host, Baly in South∣worke, & his wife of Bath he keeps such a stirre with in his Can∣terbury tales, shalbe talkt of whilst the Bath is vsde, or there be euer a badhouse in Southwork. Gentles, it is not your lay Chro∣nigraphers

that write of nothing but of Mayors and Sheriels and the deare yeere,* 2.42 and the great Frost, that can endowe your names with neuer dated glory: for they want the wings of choise words to fly to heauen, which we haue: they cannot sweeten a discourse, or wrest admiration from men reading, as we can: re∣porting the meanest accident. Poetry is the hunny of all flowers, the quintessence of all Sciences, the Marrowe ••f Witte, and the very Phrase of Angels: how much better is it then to haue an eligant Lawier to plead ones cause, than a s••utting Townsman that loseth himselfe in his tale, and doth nothing but make legs: so much it is better for a Nobleman or Gentleman, to haue his honours story related, and his deedes emblazond by a Poet, than a Citizen.

Alas poore latinlesse Authors, they are so simple they know not what they doe; They no sooner spy a new Ballad, and his name to it that compilde it: but they put him in for one of the lear∣ned men of our time, I maruell how the masterlesse men, that set vp their bills in Paules for seruices, & such as pa••••e vp their papers on euery post, for Arithmetique and writing Schooles, scape eternity amongst them; I beleeue both they and the Knight Marshals men, that naile vp Mandates at the Court g••••, for an∣noying the Pallace with filth or making water, if they set their names to the writing, will shortly make vp the number of the learned men of our time, and be as famo••s as the rest. For my part I do challenge no praise of learning to my selfe, yet haue I worne a gowne in the Uniuersitie, and so hath Caret tempus non habet moribus: but this I dare presume that if any Mecoenas binde me to him by his bounty or extend some sound liberalitie to mee worth the speaking of, I will doo him as much honour as any Poet of my beardlesse yeeres shall in England, Not that I am so confident what I can doe, but that I attribute so much to my thankfull minde about others, which I am perswaded would enable me to worke myracles.

On the contrary side, if I bee euill intreated, or sent away with a Flea in mine eare, let him looke that I will raile on him soundly: not for an houre or a day, whiles the iniury is fresh in my memory: but in soire elaborate pollished Poem, which I will leaue to the world when I am dead, to be aliuing Image

to all ages, of his beggerly parsimony and ignoble illiberalti••: and let him not (whatsoeuer he be) measure the weight of my words by this booke, where I write Quic quid in buccam venerit, as fast as my hand can trot: but I haue tearmes (if I be vext) laid in sleepe in Aquafortis,* 2.43 & Gunpowder, that shall rattle through the Skyes and make an Earthquake in a Pesants eares. Put case (since I am not yet out of the Theame of Wrath) that some tired Iade belonging to the Presse, whom I neuer wronged in my life; hath named me expressely in Print (as I will not do him) and accuse me of want of learning, vpbraiding me for reuiuing in an epistle of mine the reuerent memory of Sir Thomas Moore, Sir Iohn Cheeke, Doctor Watson, Doctor Had∣don, Doctor Carre, Maister Ascham, as if they were no meate but for his Maister ships mouth. or none but some such as the son of a ropemaker were worthy to mention them. To shewe how I can raile, thus would I begin to raile on him. Thou that hadst thy hood turnd ouer thy eares when thou wert a Batchelor, for abusing of Aristotle, & setting him vpon the Schoole gates pain∣ted with Asses eares on his head: is it any discredit for me, thou great babound, thou Pigmie Braggart, thou Pamphleter of no∣thing but * Peants,* 2.44 to bee censured by thee, that hast scorned the Prince of Philosophers; thou that in thy Dialogues soldst Huny for a ha••peny, and the choycest Writers exant for cues a pe••ce, that camest to the Logicke Schooles when thou wert a Fresh∣man and writst phrases, off with thy gowne and vntrusse, for I meane to lash thee mightily. Thou hast a Brother hast thou not, student in Almanackes, go too Ile stand to it, fatherd one of thy bastards (a booke I meane) which being of thy begetting was set forth vnder his name.

Gentlemen, I am sure you haue hearde of a ridiculous Asse that many yeares since sold lyers by the great, and wrote an ob∣surd Astrologicall Discourse of the terrible Coniunction of Saturne and Iupiter, wherein (as if hee had ••ately cast the Hea∣uens water, or beene at the anatomizing of the Skies intrailes ••n Surgeons hall) hee prophec••eth of such strange wonders to ensue from stars destemperature, and the vnuseall a••ultrie of Planets, as none but he that is Bawd to those celestiall bodies, could euer discry. What expectation there was of it both in towne

〈◊〉〈◊〉 co••ntry, ••he amaz••ment of those times may 〈◊〉〈◊〉: and the rather because he pawned his * ••redit vpon it, in these expresse tearmes;* 2.45 If these things fall not out in euery point as I haue wrote, let me for euer hereafter loose the credit of my A∣stronimie. Well so it happened, that he happened not to be a man of his word; his Astronimie broke his day with his creditors and Saturne and Iupiter prou'd honester men then all the World took•• them for: whereupon, the poore Prognosticator 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ready to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 himselfe through with his Iacobs Staffe, and east himself headlong from the top of a Globe (as a moun∣taine) and breake his necke. The whole Uniuersitie hyst at him, Tarlton at the Theator made iests of him, and Elderton con∣sumd his ale-cr••mmed nose to nothing, in bearbayting him with whole bundles of ballets. Would you in likely reason gesse it were possible for any shame-swolne ••oad to haue the spet-proofe face to out liue this disgrace? It is deate brethren, Viuit imo vi∣uit, and which is more, he is a Uicar.

Poore Slaue. I pitie thee that thou hadst no more grace but to come in my way, Why, could not you haue sate quiet at home, and write Catechismes, but you must be comparing me to Mar∣tin? and exclayme against me for reckoning vp the high Schollers or worthy memory? Iupiter ingeniis prabat sua numina vdium, saith Ouid. Seque celebrari qu••libet ore si••it. Which if it be so I hope I am Aliquis, and those men quos honoris causa nominaui, are not greate than gods, Me thinks I see thee stand quiuering and quaking, and euen now lift vp thy hands to heauen, as thank∣ing God my choler is somewhat asswag'd: but thou art decei∣ued, for how euer I let fast my stile a little to talke in reason with thee that hast none, I do not meane to let thee scape so.

Thou hast wrongedone for my sake (whom for the name I must loue) T. N. the Maister Butler of Pembrooke Hall, a farre better Scholler than thy selfe (in my iudgement) and one that sheweth more discretion and gouernment, in setting vp a sise of Bread, than thou in all thy whole booke. Why man, thinke no scorne of him for he hath held thee vp a hundred times, whiles the Deane hath giuen thee correction, and thou hast ••apt and kneed him (when thou wert hungrie) for a ••hipping. But thats nothing, for hadst thou neuer beene beholding to him, nor holden

vp by him, he hath a Beard that is a better Gentleman than 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thy whole body, and a graue countenance like Cato, able to make thee run out of t••y wits for feare, if he looke sternly vpon thee. I haue ••eade ouer thy Sheepi••h discourse of the Lambe of GOD and his enemies, and entreated my patience to be good to thee whilst I reade: but for all that I could doe with my selfe, (as I am sure I may doe as much as another man) I could not re∣fraine, but bequeath it to the Priuie, leafe by leafe as I read it, it was so vgly, dorbellicall and lumpish. Monstrous, monstrous, and palpable, not to bee spoken of in a Christian Congregation: thou hast skumd ouer th•• Sthoolemen, and of the froth of theyr folly, made a dish of diuinitie Brewesse, which the dogges will not eate.* 2.46 If the Printer haue any great dealings with thee, hee were best to get a priuiledge betimes, Ad imprimendum solum, forbidding all other to sell waste paper but himselfe, or else he will bee in a wofull taking. The Lambe of God make thee a wiser B••ll-weather then thou art, or else I doubt thou wilt be driuen to leaue all and fall to thy fathers occu••ation, which is, to goe and make a rope to hang thyselfe. Neque enim Lex aequior vlla est, quam necis artifices arte periresu••: and so I leaue thee till a bet∣ter opportunity, to bee torme••ted world without end, of our Pa∣ets and Writers about London, whome thou hast called piperlye Make-playes and Make-hates: not doubting but hee also whom thou tearmest the vaine Pap-hatcher, will haue a flurt at thee 〈◊〉〈◊〉 day: all ioyntly driuing thee to this issue, that thou shalt bee constrained to go to the chiefe Beame of thy Be••••••ce, and there beginning a lamentable speech with cur scripsi, cur perit, end with para••um praua decent, iuuat inconcessa voluptas, and so wich a trice, trusse vp thy l••fe in the steing of thy Sancebell. So be it, pray Pen, Incke and paper on their kuees, that they way not bee troubled with thee any more.

Redeo ad vos m••i Auditores, haue I not a indifferent prittye vayne in Spurgalling an Asse? if you knew ••ow extemporall it were at this instant, and with what hast it is writ you would say so. But I would not haue you thinke that all this that is set downe heere, is in good earnest, for then you goe by S. Gyles, the wrong way to Westminster: but onely to shewe howe for a neede I could rayle, if I were throughly fyred. So ho, Honiger

Hammon, where are you all this while. I cannot be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with you? Tell me what 〈◊〉〈◊〉 you thinke of the case, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 subiect to the sinne of Wrath I write against or no, in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 my penne on this blocke. I know you would sam•• haue it so, but it shall not choose but be otherwise for this once. Come on let vs ••urne ouer a new leafe, and heare what Gluttonie can say for her selfe, for Wrath hath pet his poyson, and full pla••••••s doe well after extreame purging.

THe Romaine Emperours that succeeded Augus••us,* 2.47 were exceedingly giuen to this horrible vice, where of some of them would feed on nothing but the tongues of Phesan••s and Night∣ingales: other, would spend as much at one banquet, as a kings reuenues came to in a yeare, whose excesse I would decypher at large, but that a new Laureat hath sau'd me the labor: who for a man that stands vpon paines and not wit, hath performd as much as any Storie dresser may doo, that sets a new English na•• on an old Latine Apoth••gs. It is enough for me to li••ke dishes heere at home, though I feed not mine eyes at any of the Romane feas••s, Much good doe it you Maister Diues heere in London: for you are he my pen meanes to di••e withall. Miserere mei, what a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 churle it is? Why, he hath a belly as big as the round 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Cambridge, a face as huge as the whole bodie of a base via••l, ••nd legs that if they were hollow, a man might keepe a mill in eyther of them. Experto credo Roberto, there is no mast like a Marchants table. Bona fide, it is a great misture, that we haue not men swine as well as beasts, for then we should haue porke that hath no more bones than a pudding, and a site of bacon that you might lay vn∣der your head in stead of a bolster.* 2.48

It is not for nothing, that other Countries whom we vpbraide with Drunkennesse, call vs bursten-bellied Gluttons: for wee make our greedie ••aunches powdring tubs of bee••e, and eat more meat at one meale▪ than the Spaniard or Italian in a moneth▪ Good thrifty mē▪ they draw out adinner with sallets, like a Swart∣••utters sute, and make Madona Nature their best Caterer. We must haue our Tables furnisht like Poulters stalls, or as though we were to victual Noahs Arke again (wherin there was al sorts of liuing creatures that euer we••e) or els the good-wife will not

open her mouth to bid one welcome. A stranger that should come to one of our Magnificoes houses, when dinner were set on the boord, and he not yet set, would thinke the goodman of the house were a Haberdasher of Wilde-sowle, or a Merchant venture•• of daintie meate, that sels commodities of good cheere by the great, and hath Factors in Arabia, Turkey, Egipt, and Barbarie, to pro∣uide him of straunge Birdes, Chiua Mustard, and odde patterns to make Custards by.

Lord, what a coyle haue we with this Course and that course, remoouing this dish higher, setting another lower, and taking a∣waye the third. A Generall might in lesse space remooue his Campe, than they stand disposing of their gluttonie. And where to tends all this gurmandise, but to giue sleepe grosse humors to feede on, to corrupt the braine, and make it vnapt and vnweldie for any thing.

The Romane Censors, if they lighted vpon a fat corpulent man, they straight tooke away his horsse, and constrained him to goe a foote: positiuely concluding, his carkasse was so puf•• vp with gluttonie or idlenesse. If we had such horse-takers amongst vs, and that surfit-swol••e Churles, who now ride on their foot∣cloathes, might be constrained to carrie their flesh budgets from place to place on foote, the price of be••••et and cloath would fall with their belies, and the gentle craft (alias the red herrings kins∣men) get more and drinke lesse. Plenus venter nil agit libenter, & plures gula occidit quamgladius. It is as desperate a peece of ser∣uice, to sleepe vpon a full stomacke, as it is to serue in face of the bullet: a man is but his breath, and that may as well be stopt by putting too much in his mouth at once, as running on the mouth of the cannon. that is verefied of vs, which Horace writes of an outragious eater in his time, Quicquid quaesierat ventr•• don a bat auaro, Whatsoeuer he could rap or rend, he confiscated to his co∣uetous gut. Nay, we are such flesh-eating Saracens, that chast fish may not content vs, but we delight in the murder of innocent mutton, in the vnpluming of pullerie, and quartering of Calues and Oxen.* 2.49 It is horrible and detestable, no godly Fishmonger that can digest it. R••port (which our moderners clippe ••lundring Fame) puts me in memorie of a notable iest I heard long a goe of Doctor Watson, verye conducible to the reproofe of these

••••eshly minded Belials. He beeing at supper on a fasting or fish night at least, with a great number of his friends and acquain∣tance, there chanced to be in the company an outlandish Doctor, who when all other fell to such victuals (agreeing to the time) as were before them, be out stript them, and there being one ioynt of flesh on the table for such as had weake stomackes, fell freshly to it. After that hunger (halfe conquered) had restored him to the vse of his speach, for his excuse he said to his friend that brought him thither, Profecto Domine, ego sum malissimus piscator, mea∣ning by piscator, a Fishman: (which is a liberty, as also malissimus, that outlandish men in theyr familiar talke to challenge, at least vse aboue vs,) At tues bonissimus carnifex, quoth Doctor Wat∣son, retorting very merily his owne licentious figures vpon him. So of vs may it be said we are Malissimipiscatores, but bonissimi carnifices. I would English the iest for the edification of the tem∣poralitie, but that it is not so good in English as in Latine: and though it were as good, it would not conuert clubs and clowted shoone from the flesh pots of Egipt, to the Prouant of the Lowe∣countries, for they had rather (with the Seruingman) put vp a Supplication to the Parliament house, that they might haue a yard of pudding for a penie, than desire (with the Baker) there might bee three ounces of bread sold for a halfe penie.

Alphonsus King Phillips Confessor, that came ouer with him to England,* 2.50 was such a moderate man in his dye••, that hee would feed but once a day, and at that time he would feed so ••len∣derly and sparingly, as scarse serued to keepe life and soule toge∣ther, one night importunately inuited to a solemne banquet, for fa∣shion sake, he sate downe among the rest, but by no entreatie could be drawne to eate any thing: at length fruite beeing set on the boord, he reacht an apple out of the dish, and put it in his pocket. which one marking, that sat right ouer against him, askt him, Do∣mine ••ur es solicitus in crastinum? Sir, why are you carefull for the morrow? Whereto he answered most soberly, Imo hoc facio mi amice, vt ne sim solicitus in crastinum: No, I doo it my friend, that I may not be carefull for the morrow: as though his appetite were a whole day contented with so little as an ap∣ple, and that it were enough to paye the morrowes tribute to Nature.

Rare and worthy to be registred to all posterities,* 2.51 is the Countie Molines (sometime the Prince of Parmaes Compa∣nion) altred course of life, who being a man that liued in as great pompe and delicacie, as was possible for a man to doo, and one that wanted nothing but a king••ome that his heart could de∣sire. Upon a day e••tering into a deepe melancholy by himselfe, hee fell into a discoursiue consideration, what this world was, how vaine and transitory the pleasures thereof, and how manie times he had offended God by sur••etting, glut••ony, drunkennes, pride, whoredome and such like, and how hard it was for him that liu'd in that prosperitie that he did, not to bee entangled with those pleasures: whereupon he presently resolu'd twixt God and his owne conscience, to forsake it and al his allurements, and betake hime to the seuerest forme of life vsed in their state. And with that cald all his Souldiers and acquaintance together, and making knowen his intent vnto them, he distributed his liuing and possessions (which were infinite) amongst the poorest of them: and hauing not left himselfe the worth of one farthing vnder hea∣uen, betooke him to the most beggerly newere••••ed Order of the Fryer Capuch••••es. The•• Institution is, that they shall pos∣sesse nothing whatsoeuer of their owne, more than the cloa••hes on their backes, continually go bare foote, weare haire shirts, and lie vpon the hard bords winter and summer time, they m••st haue no meate, nor aske any but what is giuen them voluntarily, nor must they lay vp from any meale to meale but giue it to the poore, or els it is a great penaltie. In this seuere humilitie liues this deuout Countie, and hath do••e this tweluemonth submit∣ting himselfe to all the base drudgery of the house, as fetching water, making cleane the rest of their chambers, insomuch as he is the Iunior of the Order. O what a notable rebuke were his honourable Lowlines to succeeding pride, if this prostrate spirit of his were not the seruaunt of Superstition: or hee mispent not his good workes on a wrong Faith.

Let but our English belly-gods punish their pursie bodies with this strict penaunce, and professe Capuchinisme but one month, and Ile be their pledge they shall not grow so like dry∣fats as they doo. O it will make them iolly long winded to trot vp and downe the Dorter st••••••es, and the water-tankard wil

keepe vnder the insurrection of their shoulders, the h••ire shirt will chase whordome out of their boanes, and the hard lodging on the boards take their flesh downe a button hole lower.

But if they might be iaduced to distribute all their goods a∣mongst the poore, it were to be hoped Saint Peter would let them dwell in the suburbes of heauen, whereas other wise they must keepe aloofe at Pancredge, and not come neeer the liber∣ties by fiue leagues and aboue. It is your dooing (Diotrephes Diuell) that these stal-••ed cormorants to damnation,* 2.52 must bung vp all the welth of the Land in their s••aphaunce bags, and poore Scholers and Souldiers wander in backe lanes, and the out∣shiftes of the Citie, with neuer a rag to their backes: but our trust is, that by some intemperance o•• othe••,* 2.53 you will turne vp their heeles one of these yeares together, and prouide them of such vnthrifts to their heires, as shall spend in one weeke amongst good fellowes, what they got by extortion and opression from Gentlemen all their life time.

FRom Glut••ony in meates, let me discend to superfluitie in drinke: a sinne, that euer since we haue mixt our selues with the Low-countries, is counted honourable: but before we knew their lingring warres, was held in that highest degree of hatred that might be. Then if we had seene a man goe wallowing in the streetes, or line sleeping vnder the boord, we would haue spet at him as a toade, and cald him foule drinken sw••e, and warnd al our friends out of his company: now he is no body that cannot drinke super ••agulum, carouse the Hunters hoop, quaffe vpsey freze crosse, with healthes, gloues, mumpes, frolickes, and a thousand such dominiering inuentions. He is reputed a pesaunt and a ••oore that wil not take his licour profoundly. And you shall heare a Caualier of the first ••eather, a princockes that was but a Page the other day in the Court, and now is all to be frenchi••ied in his Souldiers sute, stand vppon termes with Gods wounds you dishonour me sir, you do me the dis∣grace if you do not pledge me as much as I drunke to you: and in the midst of his cups stand vaunting his manhood: be∣ginning euerie sentence, with when I first bore Armes, when he neuer bare any thing but his Lords rapier after him in

his life. If he haue beene ouer and visited a towne of Garrison as a trauailer or passenger, he hath as great experience as the greatest Commander and chiefe Leader in England. A mightie deformer of mens manners and features, is this vnnecessary vice of all other. Let him bee indued with neuer so many vertues, and haue as much goodly proportion and fauour as nature can be∣stow vppon a man: yet if hee be thirstie after his owne destruc∣tion, and hath no ioy nor comfort, but when he is drowning his soule in a gallon pot, that one beastly imperfection, will vtterlie obscure all that is commendable in him: and all his good quali∣ties sinke like lead down to the bottome of his carrowsing cups, where they will lie like lees and dregges, dead and vnregarded of any man.

Clim of the clough, thou that vsest to drinke nothing but scalding lead and sulpher in hell, thou art not so greedie of thy night geare. O, but thou hast a foule swallow, if it come once to carousing of humane blood, but thats but seldome once in sea∣uen yeare, when theres a great execution, otherwise thou art ••ide at rack and manger, and drinkest nothing but the Aqua vitae of vengeance all thy life time. The Prouer be giues it forth, thou art a knaue, and therefore I haue more hope thou art some man∣ner of good fellowe: let mee intreate thee (since thou hast other iniquities inough to circumuent vs withall) to wipe this sin ou•• of the catologue of thy subtilties;* 2.54 helpe to blast the U••••es that they may beare no more grapes, and sowre the wines in the cel∣lers of Marchants storehouses, that our Countrey-men may not pisse out all their witte and thrift against the walles. King Edgar, because his subiects should not offend in swilling and bibbing, as they did, caused certaine yron-cups to be chained to euery fountaine and wells side, and at euery Uintners doore, with yron pinnes in them, to stinte euery man how much he should drinke:* 2.55 and he that went beyond one of those pinnes for∣feited a penny for euery draught. And if Stories were well searcht, I beleeue hoopes in qua••t pots were inuented to that ende, that euery man should take his hoope, and no more. I haue heard it iustified for a trueth by great Personages, that the olde Marquesse of Pisana (who yet liues) drinkes not once in sea∣uen yeare: and I haue read of one Andron of Argos, that

was so seldome thirstie, that he trauailed ouer the hote bur∣ning lands of Lybia, and neuer drank••. Then why should ou•• colde Clime bring foorth such ster••e throates. A••e we more thirstie than Spaine and Italy where the Sunnes force is dou∣bled? The Germaines and lowe Dutch, me thinkes should bee continually keept moyst with the foggie aire and stinking mistes that arise out of their fennie soyle: but as their Countrey is ouer-flowen with water, so are their heads alwaies ouer-flowen with wine, and in their bellies they haue standing quag-mires and ••ogs of English beere.* 2.56

One of their breede it was that writ the Booke De Arte bibendi: a worshipfull treatise, fitte for none but Silenus and his Asse to set forth: besides that volume, we haue generall rules and iniunctions, as good as printed precepts, or Statutes set downe by Acte of Pa••liament that goe from drunkard to drunk∣ard; as still to keepe your first man, not to leaue any flockes in the bottome of the cup, to knock the glasse on your thumbe when you haue done, to haue some shooing horne to pul on your wine, as a rasher of the coles, or a redde herring, to stirre it about with a candle sende to make it taste better, and not to holde your peace whiles the pot is stirring.

Nor haue we one or two kinde of drunkards onely,* 2.57 but eight kindes. The first is Ape drunke, and he leapes, and sings, and hollowes, and daunceth for the heauens: the second is Lion drunke, and he flings the pots about the house, calls his Hostesse whore, breakes the glasse windowes with his dagger, and is apt to quarrell with any man that speaks to him: the third is Swine drunke, heauy, bumpish, and sleepie, and cries for a little more drinke, and a fewe more cloathes: the fourth is Sheepe drunke, wise in his owne conceipt, when he cannot bring foorth a right word, the fifth is Mawdlen drunke, when a fellowe will weepe for kindnes in the midst of his Ale, and kisse you, saying; By God Captaine I loue thee, goe thy waies thou dost not thinke so often of me as I do of thee, I would (if it pleased GOD) I could not loue thee so well as I doo, and then he puts his fin∣ger in his eie, and cries: the sixt is Martin drunke, when a man is drunke and drinkes himselfe soberere he s••irre: the se∣uenth is Goate drunke, when in his drunkennes he hath no minde

but on Lechery: the eighth is Foxe drunke, when he is craftie drunke, as many of the Dutch men bee, will neuer bargaine but when they are drunke. All these species and more I haue seene practised in one Company at one sitting, when I haue beene permitted toremaine sober amongst them, onely to note their seuerall humors. Hee that plies any one of them harde, it will make him to write admirable ve••••es, to haue a deepe ca∣sting head, though hee were neuer so verie a Dunce be∣fore.

Gentlemen,* 2.58 all you that will not haue your braines twis•• sodden, your flesh rotten with the Dropsie, that loue not to goe in greasie dublets, stockings out at the heeles, and weare alehouse daggers at your backes, forsweare this slauering brauery, that will make you haue stinking breathes, and your bodies smell like Brewers aprons: rather keepe a snuffe in the bottome of the glasse to light you to bed withall, than leaue ne∣uer an eye in your head to lead you ouer the threshould. It will bring you in your olde age to be companions with none but Por∣ters and Car men, to talke out of a Cage, railing as drun∣ken men are wont, a hundred boies wondering about them; and to die soda••••ly as Fol Long the Fencer did, drinking Aqua vitae. From which (as all the rest) good Lord deliuer Pierce Penilesse.

THe nurse of this enormitie (as of all euills) is Idlenes or sloth,* 2.59 which hauing no painfull Prouince to set himselfe a worke, runnes headlong with the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in his owne hand into all lasciuiousnesse and sensualitie that may be. Men when they are idle, and know not what to do, saith one let vs goe to the Stilliard and drinke Rhenish wine. Nay, if a man knew where a good whorhouse were saith another, it were somwhat like. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sa••th the third, let vs goe to a di••cing-house or a bowling alley, and there we shall haue some sport for our money. To one of these three, (at hand quoth pick-purse) your euill Angelship mai∣ster mani-headed beast conducts them, Vbi quid agitur betwixt you and their soules be it, for I am no Drawer, Box-keeper, or Pander, to be priuie to their sports. If I were to point Sloth, (as I am not seene in the sweetening) by Saint Iohn the

Euangelist I sweare, I would draw it like a Stationer that I knowe, with his thumb vnder his girdle, who if a man come to his stall and aske him for a booke, neuer stirs his head, or looks vpon him, but stands stone still, and speakes not a word: onely with his little finger points backwards to his boy, who must be his interpreter, and so all the day gaping like a dumbe image he sits without motion, except at such times as he goes to dinner or supper: for then he is as quicke as other three, eating sixe times euery day.* 2.60 If I would raunge abroad, and looke in at sluggards key holes, I should finde a number lying a bed to saue charges of ordinaries, in winter when they want string, losing halfe a weeks Commons together, to keepe them warme in the linnen. And hold you content, this Summer an vnder-meale of an af∣ternoone long doth not amisse to exercise the eies withall. Fat men and Farmers sonnes that sweate much with eating harde cheese and drinking olde wine, must haue some more ease than yoong boyes that take their pleasure all day running vp and downe.

Setting iesting a side, I hold it a great disputable question which is a more euill man, of him that is an idle glutton at home,* 2.61 or a retchlesse vnthrift abroad? The glutton at home doth no∣thing but engender diseases, pamper his flesh vnto last, and is good for none but his owne gut: the vnthrift abroad exerciseth his bodie at dauncing schoole, fence schoole, tennis, and all such recreations: the vintners, the victuallers, the dicing houses, and who not, get by him. Suppose he lose a little now and then at play, it teacheth him wit: and how should a man know to es∣chew vices, if his own experience did not acquaint him with their inconueniences? Omne ignotum pro magnifico est: that villany we haue made no assaies in, we admire. Besides, my vagrant Reuel∣ler haunts Plaies, & sharpens his wits with frequenting the com∣pany of Poets; he emboldens his blushing face by courting faire women on the sodaine, and looke into all Estates, by conuersing with them in publike places. Nowe tell me whether of these two, the heauie headed gluttonous house doue, or this liue∣lie wanton yoong Gallant, is like to prooue the wiser man, and better member in the Common-wealth. If my youth might not be thought partiall, the fine qualified Gentleman, although

vnstaide, should carrie it cleane away from the lazie clownish droane.

Sloath in Nobilitie, Courtiers, Schollers, or any men is the chiefest cause that brings them in contempt.* 2.62 For as industrie and vnfatigable toyle rayseth meane persons from obscure houses to high thrones of authoritie: ••o Sloath and sluggish securitye causeth proud Lords to tumble from the towers of their starrie discents, and ••e crod vnder foote of euery inferiour Be sonian. Is it the loftie treading of a Galliard, or fine grace in telling of a loue tale amongst Ladies, can make a man reuerenst of the multitude? ••o, they care not for the false glistering of gay garments, or insi∣nuating curtesie of a carpet Peere: but they delight to see him shine in armour, and oppose himselfe to honourable daunger, to participate a voluntarie pen••rie with his Souldiers, and relieue part of their wants out of his owne purse. That is the course he that will be popular must take, which if he neglect, and sit dally∣ing at home, nor will be awakt by any indignities out of his loue∣dreame, but suffer euery vpstart groome to def••e him, set him at naught, and shake him by the beard vnreuengde, let him straight take orders, and be a Church-man, and then his patience may passe for a vertue: but otherwise, he shall be suspected of cowar∣dise, and not car'•• for of any. The onely enemie to Sloth, is con∣tention and emulation;* 2.63 as to propose one man to my selfe, that is the onely myrrour of out Age, and striue to out-go him in vertue. But this strife must be so tempered, that we fall not from the ea∣gernesse of praise, to the enuying of their persons: for then wee leaue running to the goale of glorie, to spurue at a stone that lyes in our waye; and so did Atlanto in the middest of her course, stoope to take vp the golden Apple that her enemie scattered in her way, and was out-runne by Hippomenes. The contrarie to this contention and emulation, is securitie, peace, quiet, tra••∣quillitie, when we haue no aduersa•••• to prie into our actions, no malicious eye, whose pursuing our priuate behauiour, might make vs more vigilant ouer our imperfections, than otherwise we would be.

That State or Kingdome that is in league with all the world, and hath no forraine sword to vere it, is not halfe to strong or con∣firmed to endure, as that which liues euery houre in feare o•• in∣uasion.

There is a certaine waste of the people for whome there 〈◊〉〈◊〉 no vse, but warre: and these men must haue some employment 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to cut them off: Nam si for as hostem non habent, domi inueni∣••••t. If they haue no seruice abroad, they will make mutinies at home. Or if the affayres of the State be such, as cannot exhale all these corrupt excrements, it is very expedient they haue some light toyes to busie their heads withall, cast before them as bones to gnaw vpon, which may keepe them from hauing leisure to in∣termeddle with higher matters.

To this effect,* 2.64 the pollicie of Playes is very necessary, how∣soeuer some shallow-braind censures (not the deepest serchers into the secrets of gouernment) mightily oppugne them. For whereas the after-noone beeing idlest time of the day; wherein men that are their owne masters, (as Gentlemen of the Court, the Innes of the Courte, and the number of Captaines and Souldiers about London) do wholy bestow themselues vpo•• pleasure, and that pleasure they deuide (howe vertuously it skils not) either into gameing, following of harlots, drinking, or seeing a Playe: is it not then better (since of foure extreames all the world cannot keepe them but they will choose one) that they should betake them to the least, which is Playes? Nay, what if I prooue Playes to be no extreame: but a rare exercise of vertue? First, for the subiect of them (for the most part) it is borrowed out of our English Chronicles, wherein our forefathers valiant acts (that haue li••e long buried inrustie brasse, and worme-eaten bookes) are reuiued, and they themselues raised from the Graue of Obliuion, and brought to pleade their aged Honours in open presence: than which, what can be a sharper reproofe to these de∣generate effeminate dayes of ours.

How would it haue ioyed braue Talbot (the terror of the French) to thinke that after he had lyne two hundred yeares in his Tombe, hee should triumphe againe on the Stage, and haue his bones newe embalmed with the teares of ten thou∣sand spectators at least, (at seuerall times) who in the Trage∣dian that represents his person, imagine they behold him fresh bleeding.

I will defend it against any Collian, or clubfisted Usurer of them all, there is no immortalitie, can be giuen a man on earth

like vnto Playes. What talke I to them of immortalitie, that are the onely vnde••miners of Honour, and doe en••ie any man that is not sprung vp by base Brokerie like themselues. They care not if all the auncient houses were rooted out, so that like the Burgomasters of the Low-countries they might share the go∣uernment amongst them as State▪ and be quarter-maisters of our Monarchie. All Artes to them are vanitie: and if you tell them what a glorious thing it is to haue Henrie the fifth repre∣sented on the Stage leading the French King prisoner, and for∣cing both him and the Dolphin to sweare fealty. I, but (will they say) what do we get by it? Respecting neither the right of Fame that is due to true Nobilitie deceased, nor what hopes of eterni∣tie are to be proposed to aduentrous mindes, to encourage them forward, but onely their execrable luker, and filthie vnquencha∣ble auarice.

They know when they are dead they shall not be brought vp∣on the Stage for any goodnes, but in a merriment of the Usurer and the Diuel, or buying Armes of the Herald, who giues them the Lyon without tongue, tayle, or tallents, because his maister whome hee must serue is a Townesman, and a man of peace, and must not keepe any quarrelling beasts to annoy his honest neigh∣bours.

In Playes,* 2.65 all co••sonages, all cunning drifts ouer-guylded with outward holinesse, all stratagems of warre, all the canker∣wormes that breede on the rust of peace, are most liuely anato∣miz'd: they shew the ill successe of treason, the fall of hastie clim∣bers, the wretched end of vsurpers, the miserie of ciuill dissenti∣on, and how iust God is euermore in punishing of murther. And to proue euery one of these allegations, could I propound the cir∣cumstances of this play and that play, if I meant to handle this Theame otherwise than obiter. What should I say more? they are sower pils of reprehension wrapt vp in sweete words. Where∣as some P••titioners of the Counsaile against them obiect, they corrupt the youth of the Cittie,* 2.66 and withdrawe Prentises from theyr worke; they beartily wishe they might bee troubled with none of their youth nor their prentises; for some of them (I meane the ruder handicrafts seruants) neuer came abroade, but they are in danger of vndoing: and as for corrupting them when

they come, thats false; for no Play they haue, encourageth any man to tumults or rebellion, but layes before such the halter and the gallowes; or praiseth or approoueth pride, lust, whoredome, prodigalitie, or drunkennes, but beates them downe vtterly. As for the hindrance of Trades and Traders of the Citie by them, that is an Article foysted 〈◊〉〈◊〉 by the Uintners, Alewiues, and Uic∣tuallers, who surmise if there were no Playes, they should haue all the companie that resort to them, lye bowzing and beere-ba∣••hing in their houses euery after-noone. Nor ••o, nor so, good bro∣ther bottle-ale, for there are other places besides where money can bestow it selfe: the signe of the smock will wipe your mouth cleane; and yet I haue heard yee haue made her a tenant to your tap-houses. But what shall hee doo that hath spent himselfe? where shall hee haunt? Faith, when Dice, Lust, and Drunken∣nesse, and all haue dealt vpon him, if there be neuer a Playe for him to goe too for his pennie, he sits melancholie in his Chamber, deuising vpon felonie or treason, and howe he may best exalt him∣selfe by mischiefe.

In Augustus time (who was the Patron of all wittie sports) there happened a great Fraie in Rome about a Player, insomuch as all the Cittie was in an vprore: wherevpon, the Emperour (after the broyle was somewhat ouer-blowne) calde the Player before him, and askt what was the reason that a man of his qualitie, durst presume to make such a brawle about no∣thing. Hee smilinglye replyde, It is good for thee O Caesar, that the peoples heads are troubled with brawles and quar∣rels about vs and our light matters:* 2.67 for otherwise they would looke into thee and thy matters. Read Lipsius or any prophane or Christian Polititian, and you shall finde him of this opinion. Out Players are not as the players beyond sea, a sort of squirting baudie Comedians, that haue whores and common Curtizens to playe womens partes, and forbeare no immodest speech,* 2.68 or vnchast action that may procure laughter, but our Sceane is more statelye furnisht than euer it was in the time of Roscius, our representations honourable, and full of gal∣lant resolution, not consisting like theirs of Pantaloun, a Whore, and a Zanie, but of Emperours, Rings and Princes: whose true Tragedies (Sophocleo cothu••no) they do vaunt.

Not Roscius nor Aesope those admyred tragedians that hau•• liued euer since before Christ was borne, could euer performe more in action,* 2.69 than famous Ned Allen. I must accuse our Poets of sloth and partialitie that they will not boast in large impressions what worthy men (aboue all Nations) England affoords. Other Cou••tries cannot haue a Fidler breake a string, but they will put it in print, and the old Romanes in the writings they published, thought scorne to vse any but domestical examples of their owne hom-bred Actors, Schollers and Champions, and them they would extoll to the third and fourth Generation: Cob∣lers, Tinkers, Fencers, none escapt them, but they mingled them all in one Eallimafrey of glory.

Heere I haue vsed a like Method, not of tying my selfe to mine owne Countrie, but by insisting in the experience of our time: and if I euer write any thing in Latine,) as I hope one day I shall) not a man of any desert here amongst vs, but I will haue vp. Tarlton, Ned Allen, Knell, Bentlie, shall be made knowne to France, Spaine, and Italie: and not a part that they surmounted in, more than other, but I will there note and set downe, with the manner of theyr habites and attyre.

THe childe of Sloath is Lecherie,* 2.70 which I haue plat't last in my order of handling: a sinne that is able to make a man wic∣ked that should describe it; for it hath more starting holes, than a fiue hath holes, more Clyents than Westminster-hall, more dis∣eases than Newgate. Call a Lee••e at Byshopsgate, and examine how euery second house in Shorditch is maintayned: make a pri∣uie search in Southwarke, and tell me how many Shee-Inmat••s you finde: naye, goe where you will in the Suburbes, and bring me two Uirgins that haue vowd Chastitie, and Ile builde a Nunnerie.

Westminster, Westminster, much maydenhead hast thou to an∣swere for at the day of Iudgement, thou hadst a Sanctuarie in thee once, but hast few Saints left in thee now. Surgeons and Apothecaries, you know what I speake is true: for you liue (like Sumners) vpon the sinnes of the people; tell me, is there anye place so lewde as this Ladie London? not a Wench soeuer creepes out of the shell, but she is of the Religion Some wiues

will sowe Mandrake in their gardens, and crosse-neighborhood with them is counted goodfellowship.

The Court I dare not touch, but surely there (as in the Hea∣uens) be many falling starres, and but one true Diana. Consuetu∣do peccandi, tollit sensum peccati, Custome is a Lawe, and Luste holdes it for a Lawe, to liue without Lawe. Lais that had so ma∣nie Poets to her Louers, could not alwayes preserue her beauty with their praises. Marble will weare away with much raine: Gold will rust with moyst keeping: and the richest garments are subiect to Times Moath-frets, Clitemnestra, that slew her hus∣band to enioye the Adulterer Aegistus, and bathde her selfe in Milke euery day to make her yoong againe, had a time when shee was ashamed to viewe her selfe in a looking Glasse, and her body withered, her minde being greene. The people pointed at her for a murtherer, yoong children howted at her as a strum∣pet: shame, misery, sicknesse, beggery, is the best end of vn∣cleannesse.

Lais, Cleopatra, Helen, if our Clyme hath any such, noble Lord warden of the witches and iuglers, I commend them with the rest of our vncleane siffers in Shorditch, the Spittle, South∣warke, Westminster, & Turnbull streete, to the protection of your Portership: hoping you will speedily carrie them to hell, there to keepe open house for all young Diuels that come, and not let our ayre bee contaminated with theyr six-pennie damnation any longer.

Your Diuelships bounden execrator, Pierce Penilesse.

A supplication calst thou this. (quoth the knight of the post) it is the maddest Supplication that euer I sawe; me thinks thou hast handled all the seuen deadly sinnes in it, and spared none that exceedes his limits in any of them. It is well done to practise thy witt••, but (I beleeue) our Lord will cun thee little thanks forit.

The worse for me (qouth I) if my destinie be such, to lose my labour euery where, but I meane to take my chance be it good or bad. Well, hast thou any more that thou wouldest haue mee to doo (quoth he?) O••ely one sute (quoth I) which is this, that sith opportunitie so conuenientlie serues, you would ac∣quaint mee with the state of your infernall regiment: and what that hel is, where you Lord holdes his throne; whether a world like this, which sprrites like outlawes doo inhabit, who being banishe from heauen, as they are from their Country, en∣uy that any shall bee more happy than they: and therefore seeke all meanes possible that Wit or Arte may inuent, to make o∣ther men as wret••••ed as themselues: or, whether it be place of horror, stench, and darknesse, where men see meat, but can get none, or are euer thirstie and readie to sw••lt for drinke, yet haue not the power to taste the coole streames that runne hard at their feet: where (permut at a vicissitudine) one ghost torments another by turnes, and he that all his life time was a great for∣••icator, hath all the diseases of lust continually hanging vppon him, and is constrained (the more to augment his misery) to haue congresse euery houre with hagges and olde witches: and he that was a great drunkard here on earth, hath his penance assigned him, to carouse himselfe drunke with dishwash and Ui∣neger, and surfet foure times a day, with sower Ale and small Beere: as so of the rest, as the vsurer to swallow moulten gold, the glutton to eate nothing but toades, and the Murtherer to bee still st••bd with daggers, but neuer die: or whether (as some phartasticall refyners of philosophie will needes per∣swade vs) hell is nothing but error, and that none but fooles and Idiotes and Machanicall men that haue no learning shall be damned: of these doubts if you will resolue me, I shall thinke my selfe to haue profited greatly by your company.

He hea••ing me so 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in matters aboue humane

capacity, entertained my greedie humour with this answere. Poets and Philosophers that take a pride in inuenting newe opi••ians, haue sought to renoume their wittes, by hunting af∣ter strange conceits of heauen and hell; all generally agree∣ing, that such places there are, but how inhabited, by whom gouerned, or what betides them that are transported to the one or other, not two of them iumpe mone tale. We that to our ter∣ror and griefe do know their dotage by our sufferings, reioyce to thinke how these sillie flyes plaie with the fire that must burne them.

But leauing them to the Laborynth of their fond curiositie; shall I tell thee in a word what Hellis? It is a place where the soules of vntemperate men and ill••••ers of all sorts, are detay∣ned and imprisoned till the generall R••s••rrection, kept and pos∣sessed chiefly by spirites, who lye like Souldiours in Garison, ready to be sent about any seruice into the world, whensoeuer Lucifer their Lieftenaunt Generall pleaseth. For the scit••ation of it in respect of heauen, I can no better compare it than to Callis and Douer: for as a man standing vpon Callis Sands may see men walking on Douer Clyffes, so easily may you discerne Hea∣uen from the farthest part of hell, and behold the melodie and mo∣tions of the Angels and Spirits there resident, in such perfect manner, as if you were amongst them; which how it worketh in the mindes and soules of them that haue no power to apprehend such felicity, it is not for me to intimate, because it is preiudiciall to our Monarchie.

I would bee sorrie (quoth I) to importune you in anie matter of secrecie: yet this I desice, if it might bee done without offence, that you would satisfie me in full sore and according to truth, what the Diuell is whome you serue? as also howe hee began, and howe farre his power and authoritie extends?

Persie, beleeue me thou shriuest me very neere in this latter demaund, which concer••eth vs more deeply than the former, and may worke vs more damage than thou art aware of: yet in hope thou wylt conceale what I tell thee, I will laye open ou•• whole estate plainly and simply vnto thee as it is: but first I wil begin with the opinions of former times, and so hasten forwarde

to that manifeste verum that thou seekest. Some men there be that building too much vpon reason, perswade themselues, that there are no Diuels at all; but that this word Daemon, is such a∣nother morall of mischiefe, as the Poets Dame Fortune is of mishap: for as vnder the fiction of this blinde Goddesse we ayme at the folly of Princes and great men in disposing of honours, that oftentimes preferre fooles and disgrace wise men, and al∣ter their fauours in turning of an eye, as Fortune turnes her wheele: so vnder the person of this olde Guathonicall compa∣nion called the Diuell, we shrowd all subtiltie masking vnder the name of simplicitie, all painted holines deuouring widowes houses, all gray headed Foxes clad in sheepes garments; so that the Diuell (as they make it) is onely a pestilent humour in a man, of pleasure, profit, or policie, that violently carries him away to vanicie, villanie, or monstrous hypocrisie: vnder va∣nitie I comprehend not onely all vaine Arts and studies what∣soeuer, but also dishonourable prodigalitie, vntemperate ve∣nery, and that hatefull sinne of selfe-loue, which is so common amongst vs: vnder villanie I comprehend murder, treason, theft, cousnage, cut-throat couetise, and such like: lastly, vnder hy∣pocrisie, all Mach••auilisme, puritanisme, and outward gloa∣sing with a mans enemie, and protesting friendship to him that I hate, and meane to harme: all vnder-hand cloaking of bad actions with Common-wealth pretences: and finally all Ita∣lionate conueyances, as to kill a man, and then mourne for him, quasi ver•• it was not by my consent, to be a flaue to him that hath iniur'd me, and kisse his fecte for opportunitie of reuenge, to be seuere in punishing offenders▪ that no••e might haue the be∣nefite of such meanes but my selfe, to vse men for my purpose and then cast them off, to seeke his destruction that knowes my secrets: and such as I haue imployed in any murther or strata∣gem, to set them priuilie together by the eares, to f••ab each other mutua••ly, for feare of bewraying me: or if that faile, to hire them to humor one another in such courses, as may bring them both to the gallowes. These and a thousand more such fleights hath hypocrisie learned by trauailing strange Countries. I will not say she puts them in practise here in England, al∣though there be a•• many false brethren and crafty knaues here

amongst vs, as in any place: witnes the poore Miller of C••••∣bridge, that hauing no roome for his hen-loft, but the Testor of his bed, and it was not possible for any hungry Poultrers to come there, but they must stande vppon the one side of it, and so not steale them but with great hazard; had in one night notwith∣standing (when hee and his wife were a snorting) all the whole progenie of their Pullery taken away, and neither of them heard any sturring: it is an odde tricke, but what of that, we must not stand vpon it, for wee haue grauer matters in hand, then the stea∣ling of Hennes. Hypocrisie I remember was our Text, which was one of the chiefe morall Diuels out late Doctors affirme to bee most busie in these daies, and busie it is in trueth more than any Bee that I know: nowe you talke of a Bee, Ile tell you a tale of a Battle-dore.

The Beare on a time beeing chiefe Burgomaster of all the Beasts vnder the Lyon, gan thinke with himselfe how hee might surfet in pleasure, or best hus••and his Authoritie to enlarge his delight and contentment. Wyth that hee beganne to prye and to smell through euery corner of the Forrest for praye, to haue a thousande imagynations with himselfe what daintie morsell he was master of, and yet had not tasted: whole Heards of sheepe had hee deuoured, and was not satisfied? fat Oxen, Hayfers, Swine, Calues, and yoong Kiddes, were his ordinary vy∣ands: he longed for Horse-flesh, and went presently to a me dowe, where a fat Cammell was grazing, whom fearing to encoun∣ter with force because he was a huge beast and well shod, he thought to betray vnder the colour of demaunding homage, hoping that as he should stoope to doo him truage, he might seaze vpon his throat and stifle him before he should be able to recouer himselfe from his false embrace; but therein he was deceiued: for comming vnto this stately Beast with this im∣perious message, in stead of doing homage vnto him, he li••ted vp one of his hindmost heeles, and stroake him such a blowe on the forehead that hee ouerthrew him. Thereat not a little mou'd and enrag'd, that he should be so dishonored his infe∣riour as he thought, he consulted with the Ape how he might be reuenged.

The Ape abhorring him by nature, because he ouer-lookt

him so Lordly, and was by so many degrees greater than he was, aduised him to digge a pit with his pawes right in the way where this big boand Gentleman should passe, that so stumbling and falling in, he might lightly skip on his back, and bridle him, and then he come 〈◊〉〈◊〉 seaze on him at his pleasure. No sooner was this perswaded, than performed: for enuie that is neuer idle, could not sleepe in his wrath, or ouer-slip the least opportunitie, till hee had leene the confusion of his enemie. Alas goodly Creature, that thou mightest no longer liue. What auaileth thy gentlenes, thy prowesse, or the plentifull pasture, wherein thou wer•• fed: since malice triumphs ouer all thou commaundest? Well may the Mule rise vp in armes, and the Asse bray at the Authors of thy death: yet shall their furie befatall to themselues, before it take hold on these Traitours. What needeth more words? the deuou∣rer feedes on his captiue, and is gorged with bloud. But as aua∣rice and cruelue are euermore thirstie, so far'd it with this hun∣grie Usurper: for hauing flesht his ambition with this treache∣rous conquest, he past a long through a groue, where a Heard of Deare weare a ranging: whom when he had stedfastly surueyed from the fattest to the leanest, he singled out one of the fairest of the company, with whom he meant to close vp his stomack in stead of cheese: but because the Wood-men were euer stirring there∣about, and it was not possible for one of his 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ to commit such outrage vndeseried, and that if he were espyed, his life were in pe∣rill: though not with the Lyon, whose eyes he could blinde as hee list, yet with the lesser sort of the brutish Comminaltie, whome no flatterie might pacifie. Therefore he determined slylie and pri∣uilie to poyson the strearme, where this ••olly Forrester wonted to drinke; and as he determined, so he did: whereby it fell out, that when the: Sunne was ascended to his height, and all the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Cittizens of the Wo••d he tooke them to their Laire, this youth∣full Lorde of the Lawnds, all fainte and malecontent (as pro∣phecying his neere approching mishap by his languishing) with a lazie wallowing pace, ••••••ayed aside from the rest of his fellow∣ship, and betooke him all carelesly to the corrupted fountaine that was prepared for his Funerall.

Ah, woe is me, this poyson is pittilesse. What neede I saye more, since you know it is death with whome it encounters. And

yet cannot all this expence of life, set a period to insatiable Murther: but still it hath some Anuile to worke vppon, and o∣user-casts all opposite prosperitie, that may any waye shadow his glorie.

Too long it were to rehearse all the practises of this sauadge blood-hunter, how he assailed the Unicorne as he slept in his den, and tore the heart out of his breast ere he could awake: how hee made the lesser beasts lye in wayte one for the other, and the Crocodyle to coape with the Basiliske, that when they had en∣terchangeably weakened each other, he might come and in suit o∣uer them both as her list. But these were lesser matters, which daily vse had worne out of mens mouthes, and he himselfe had so customablie practised, that often exercise had quite abrogated the opinion of sinne, and impudencie throughlie confirmed an vndaun∣ted defiance of vertue in his face. Yet newfangled lust, that in time is wearie of welfare, and will bee as soone cloyed with too much ease and delicacie, as Pouertie with labour and scarcitie, at length brought him out of loue with this greedy bestiall humour: and nowe hee affected a milder varietie in his dyet: hee had be∣thought him what a pleasant thing it was to eate nothing but honie another while, and what great store of it there was in that Countrey.

Nowe did hee cast in his head, that if hee might bring the Husbandmen of the soyle in opinion, that they might bu••e ho∣ney cheaper, than beeing at such charges in keeping of Bees, or that those Bees which they kept, were most of them Drones, and what should such idle Drones doe with such stately Hyues, or lye sucking at such pretious Honny-combes; that if they were tooke awaye from them, and distributed equally abroade, they would releeue a great many of painfull labourers that had neede of them, and would continually liue seruiceable at theyr commaund, if they might enioy such a benefite. Naye more, let them giue Waspes but onely the waxe, and dispose of the honie as they thinke good, and they shall 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and buzze a thou∣sand times lowder than they, and haue the bu••e fuller at the yeares ende (with young ones I meane) than the Bees are woont in ten yeere.

To broach this deuice, the Foxe was addrest like a shepheards

dogge, and promist to haue his Pattent seald, to be the Kings Poulterer for euer, if he could bring it to passe. Faith, quoth he, and Ile put it in a venter, let it hap how it wil With that he grew in league with an old Camelion that could put on all shapes, and ••mitate any colour, as occasion serued, and him he addrest some∣time like an Ape to make sport, and then like a Crocodile to weep, sometime like a Serpent to sting, and by and by like a Spantell to fawne, that with these sundrie formes, (applyde to mens va∣riable humors) he might perswade the world he ment as he spake, and onely intended their good, when he thought nothing l••sse. In this disguise, these two deceiuers went vp and downe, and did much harme vnder the habite of Simplicity, making the poore silly Swaines beleeue they were cunning Phisitions, and well seene in all Cures, that they could heale any maladie, though ne∣uer so daungerous, and restore a man to life that had beene dead two daies▪ onely by breathing vpon him: aboue all things they per∣swaded them, that the honny that their Bees brought foorth, was poysonous and corrupt, by reason that those floures and hearbs, out of which it was gathered and exhaled, were subiect to the in∣fection of euery Spider and venimous Canker, and not a loath∣some Toade (how detestable soeuer) but reposde himselfe vnder theyr shadow, and lay sucking at their rootes continually: wheras in other Countries, no noisome or poisnous creature might liue, by reason of the imputed goodnes of the Soyle, or carefull dili∣gence of the Gardners aboue ours, as for example, Scotland, Denmarke, and some more pure partes of the seauenteene Pro∣uinces.

These perswasions made the good honest Husbandmen to pause, and mistrust their owne wits very much, in nourishing such dangerous Animals, but * yet I know not how antiquitie and cu∣stome so ouer-rulde their feare, that none would resolue to aban∣don them on the sodaine, till they sawe a further inconuenience: whereby my two cunning Philosophers were driuen to studie Galen a new, and seeke out splenatiue simples, to purge their po∣pular Patients of the opinion of their olde Traditions and Cu∣stomes: which howe they wrought with the most parte that had least wit, it were a world to tell. For now nothing was Canonical but what they speake, no man would conuerse with his wife, but

first askt their aduise, nor pare his nails, nor cut his beard, with∣out their prescription: so senceles, so wauering is the light vn∣constant multitude, that will daunce after euerie mans pipe; and sooner prefer a blind harper that can squeake out a new horne-pipe, than Alcinous or Apolloes varietie, that imitates the right straines of the Doryan melodie. I speake this to am∣plifie the nouell folly of the hedlong vulgar, that making their eyes and eares vassailes to the legerdemaine of these iugling Mountbanks, are presentlie drawne to contemne Art and expe∣rience in comparison of the ignorance of a number of audati∣ous idiots. The Fox can tell a faire tale, and couers all his kna∣uerie vnder conscience, and the Camelion can addresse himself like an Angell whensoeuer he is disposed to worke mischefe by myracles: but yet in the end their secret drifts are laide open, and Linceus eyes that sée through stone walles, haue made a passage into the close couerture of their hypocrisie.

For one daie, as these two Deuisers were plotting by them∣selues how to driue all the Bées from their Honny combs, by putting wormwood in their Hyues, and strewing Henbane and Rue in euerie place where they resort: a Flye that past by, and heard all their talke, stomaking the Foxe of olde, for that he had murdred so many of his kindred with his flail-driuing tail, went presentlie and buzd in Linceus eares the whole purport of their malice, who awaking his hundred eies at these vnexpected ti∣dings, gan persue them wheresoeuer they went, and trace their intents as they procéeded into action, so that ere half their baits were cast forth, they were apprehended and imprisoned, and all their whole counsaile detected. But long ere this, the Beare im∣patient of delaies and consumed with an inward greife in him∣selfe, that hée might not haue his will of a fat Hind that outran him, he went into the woods all melancholie, and there died for pure anger: leauing the Foxe and the Camelion to the destinie of their desert, and mercie of their Iudges. How they scape I know not, but some saie they were hanged, and so wéele leaue them.

How likest thou of my tale friend Persie? Haue I not descri∣bed a right earthly Diuell vnto thée, in the discourse of this bloo∣die minded Beare? Or canst thou not attract the true image of

hypocrisie, vnder the description of the Fox and the Camelion?

Yes very well (quoth I) but I would gladly haue you returne to your first subiect, since you haue mooued doubts in my mind, which you haue not yet discust.

Of the sundrie opinions of the Diuill thou meanest, and them that imagin him to haue no existence, of which sort are they that first inuented the prouerbe, Homo bomini Daemon: meaning there∣by, that that power which we call the Diuill, and the ministring Spirits belonging to him and to his kingdom, are tales and fa∣bles, and meere bugge bearers to scarre boies: and that there is no such essence at all, but only it is a terme of large content, de∣scribing the rancor, grudg, and bad dealing of one man toward another: as namely, when one friend talkes with another sub∣tilly, and séeks to diue into his commoditie, that he may depriue him of it craftelie: when the sonne seeks the death of the father, that he maie be infeoffed in his welth: and the stepdame goes a∣bout to make awaie her sonne in-law, that her children may in∣herit: when brothers fall at iarres for portions, and shall by open murther or priuie conspiracie, attempt the confusion of each o∣ther, only to ioine house to house, and vnite two Liuelihoods in one: when the seruant shall rob his master, and Men put in trust start away from their oathes and vowes they care not how.

Iu such cases and manie more, may one man be said to be a di∣uell to another, and this is the second opinion. The third is that of Plato, who not onely affirmeth that there are diuels, but deui∣ded them into thrée sorts, euerie one a degree of dignitie aboue the other; the first are those, whose bodies are compact of the pu∣rest airie Element, combined with such transparant thréeds; that neither they doo partake so much fire as should make them visible to sight, or haue anie such astinitie with the earth, as they are able to be prest or toucht: and these he setteth in the hiest in∣comprehensible degrée of heauen. The second, he maketh these whom Apuleius doth call reasonable creatures, passiue in mind and eternall in time, being those Apostata spirits that rebelled with Belzebub: whose bodies, before their fall, were bright and pure all like to the former: but after their transgression, they were obscured with a thick ayrie matter & euer after assigned to darknes, The third, he attributes to those men, that by some

diuine knowledge or vnderstanding, séeming to aspire aboue mortalitie, are called Daemona, (that is) Gods: for this word Daemon contayueth either, and Homer in euery place doth vse it, both for that omnipotent power that was before al things, and the e∣uill spirit that leadeth men to error: so doth Syrianus testifie, that Plato was called Daemon, because he disp••ted of deepe Com∣mon-welth matters, greatly auailable to the benefite of his Countrye: and also Aristotle because he wrote at large of all things subiect to moouing and sence. Then belike (quoth I) you make this word Daemon, a capeable name of Gods, of men and of diuels, which is farre distant from the scope of my de∣mand: for I doo onlie inquire of the diuel, as this common ap∣pellation of the Diuel, signifieth a malignant spirit, enimie to mankind, and a hater of God and all goodnes. Those are the se∣cond kinde said he, vsuallie termed detractors or accusers that are in knowledge infinit, insomuch as by the quicknes of their wits, and agréeable mixtures of the Elements, they so compre∣hend those seminarie vertues to men vnknown, that those thin∣ges which in course of time, or by growing degrées Nature of it selfe can effect. They by their Art and skill in hastening the works of nature, can contriue and compas in a moment, as the Magitians of Pharao, who wheras nature not without some in terposition of time, and ordinarie causes of conception brings forth frogs, serpents, or any liuing shing else, they without all such distance of space, or circumscription of season euen in a thought assoon as their K. commanded, couered the land of A••∣gypt with this monstrous increase. Of the originall of vs spi∣rits, the scripture most amplie maketh mention, name lie that Lucifer (before his fall) an Archangel, was a cléer bodie compact of the p••rest, and brightest of the aire; but after his fall, he was vailed with a grosser substance, and tooke a new forme of darke and thick ayre, which he still reteineth. Neither did he onlie fall, when he stroue with Michael, but drew a number of Aungels to his faction; who ioint partakers of his proud reuolt, were likewise partakers of his punishmente, and all thrust out of heauen togither by one iudgement: who euer since do nothing but wander about the Earth, and tempt and inforce fraile men to enterprise all wickednesse that maie be, and commit

most horrible and abhominable things against God. Marue•••• not that I discouer so much of our estate vnto thee: for the scrip∣ture hath more than I mention, as S. Peter where he saith that God spared not his Angels that sinned. And in another place where he saith, that they are bound with the chaines of darknes, and throwne headlong into hell: which is not meant of anie locall place in the earth, or vnder the waters: for as Austin affirmeth, we doo in∣habite the Region vnder the moone, and haue the thick aire as∣signed vs as a prison, from whence we maie with small labour cast our nets where we list: yet are we not so at our disposition but that we are still commanded by Lucifer (although we are in number infinite) who retaining that pride wherewith he ar∣rogantlie affected the maiestie of God, hath still his ministring Angels about him, whome he emploies in seuerall charges, to seduce and deceiue as him séemeth best: as those spirites which the Latines call Iouios and Antemeridianos, to speake out of Oracles, and make the people worship them as gods, when they are nothing but deluding Diuels that couet to haue a false Deitie ascribed vnto them, and drawe men vnto their loue by wonders & prodigies, that else would hate them deadlie, if they knew their maleuolence and enuie. Such a monarchizing spi∣rit it was, that said to Christ, If thou wilt fall downe and wor∣ship me, I wil giue thee al the kingdoms of the earth: and such a spirit it was that possest the Libian Sapho, and the Emperor Dioclesian, who thought it the blessedest thing that might be, to be called God. For the one being wearie of humane honour, and inspired with a supernaturall follie, taught little bi••ds that were capable of spéech, to pronounce distinctlie Magnus Deus Sapho, that is to saie A great God is Sapho: Which words when they had learned readil•••• to caroll, & were perfect in their note, he let them flie at randon, that so dispersing themselues euerie where, they might induce the people to account of him as a God. The other was so arrogant, that he made his subiectes fall prostrate on their faces, and lifting vp their handes to him as to heauen, adore him as omnipotent.

The second kind of Deuils which he most imploieth, are those Northerne Marcij, called the spirits of reuenge, & the authors of massacres, and seedesmen of mischiefe, for they haue com∣mission

to incense men to rapines, sacriledge, theft, mur••her, wrath, furie, and all manner of cruelties, and they commande certein of the Southern spirits (as slaues) to waite vpon them, as also great Arioch, that is tearmed the spirit of reuenge.

These know how to dissociate the loue of brethren, and to break wedlock bands with such violence, that they may not be vnited, and are prodominant in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 other domisticall mu••inies: of whom if thou list to heare more, read the 39. of Ecclesiasticus. The Prophet ••say maketh 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of another Spirit sent by God to the Egyptians, to make them straie and wander out of the way, that is to say, the Spirit of liing, which they call Bolychym. The Spirits that entice men to gluttonie and lust, are certaine watry spirits of the West, and certaine Southerne spirits as Nefrach & Ke••en, which for the most part prosecute vnlawfull loues, and cherish all vnnaturall desires: they wander through lakes, fish ponds and fennes, and ouerwhelme ships, cast boates vpon ankers, and drowne men that are swimming: therefore are they counted the most pestilent, trouble some, and guile full spirits that are: for by the helpe of Alrynach a Spirite of the West, they will raise stormes, cause earthquaks, whirlwinds, raine, haile or snow in the clerest daie that is: and if euer they appeare to anie man, they come in womens apparell. The spi∣rits of the aire will mix themselues with thunder & lightening, and so infect the Clime where they raise any tempest, that sud∣denlie great mortalitie shall ensue to the inhabitants from the infectious vapors which arise from their motions: of such S. Iohn maketh mention in the 9. of the Apocalips: their patron is Me∣reris, whoe beareth chiefe rule about the middle time of the daie. The spirits of the fire haue their mansions vnder regions of the Moon, that whatsoeuer is committed to their charge, they maie there execute, as in their proper consistorie, from whense they cannot start. The spirites of the earth kéepe for the most part in Forrests and woods, and doo hunters much noiance, & sometime in the broade ••••eldes where they lead trauellers out of the right waie, or fright men with deformed apparitio••s, or make them run mad through excessiue melancholie lik Aiax Telamonius, & so proue hurtfull to themselues, and dangerous to others: of this number the chiefe are Sauiaab and Achymael spi••its of the cast,

that haue no power to do anie great harme, by reason of ••he vn¦constancie of their affections. The vnder-earth spirits, are such as lurke in dens & little cauerns of the earth, and hollow creui∣ses of mountaines, that they maie diue into the bowels of the earth at their pleasure: these dig mettals, and watch treasures, which they continuallie transport from place to place, that none should haue vse of them: they raise winds that vomit flames, and shake the foundation of buildings, they dance in rounds in pleasant launds, and gréene medowes, with noises of musicke and minstrelsie, & vanish awaie when anie comes néere them: ••hey will take vpon them anie similitude but of a woman, and terri••••e men in the likenesse of dead mens ghostes in the night time: and of this qualitie and condition the Necromancers hold Gaziel, Fegor, and Anarazel, Southern spirits to be. Besides, there are yet remaining certeine li••ng spirits (whoe, although all bee giuen to lie by nature) yet are they more prone to that vice, than the rest, being named Pythonists, of whome Apollo comes to be called Pytheus: they haue a prince as well as other spirits, of whom mention is made in the 3. booke of kings, when he saith he will be a lieng spirit in the mouth of all Ahabs pro∣phets: from which those spirits of iniquitie do little differ, which are called the vessels of wrath, that assist Belial (whom they in∣terpret a spirit without yoke or controuler) in all damnable de∣uises and inuentions. Plato reports them to be such as first deui¦sed cards and dice, and I am in the mind, that the Monke was of the same order, that found out the vse of Gunpouder, and the engins of war therto belonging. Those that write of these mat¦ters, call this Belial Chodar of the East, that hath all witches & coniurors spirits vnder his iurisdiction, & giues them leaue to helpe Iuglers in their tricks, & Simon Magus to doo miracles; alwaies prouided they bring a soule home to their Maister for his hire. Yet are not these all, for there are spirits called spies & tale carriers, ob••dient to Ascaroth, whom the Gréeks call Dai∣mona, and S. Iohn The accuser of the brethren: also tempters, whoe for their interrupting vs in al our good actions, are cald our euil Angels. Aboue all thinges they ha••e the light and reioyce in darkenesse, disquieting men maliciouslie in the night and som∣times hurt them by pinching them or blasting them as they sléep

but they are not so much to be dreaded as other spirits, bicause if a man speak to them, they flee awaie and will not abide. Such a spirit Plinius Secundus telleth of, that vsed to haunt a goodlie house in Athens that Athenadorus hired; and such another Suc∣tonius describeth to haue long houered in Lamianus Garden wher Caligula lay buried, who for bicause he was onlie couered with a few clods, and vnreuentlie thrown amongst the wéeds, he meruelouslie disturbed the owners of the garden, & woulde not let them rest in their beds, till by his Sisters returned from banishment, he was taken vp, and intoombed solemnlie. Pausa∣nias auoucheth (amongst other experiments) that a certain spi∣rit called Zazilus doth feed vpon dead mens corses, that are not déeplie interred in the earth as they ought: which to confirme, there is a inonderfull accident set downe in the Danish history of Asuitus and Asmundus, who being two famous friends (well knowne in those parts) vowd one to another, that which of them two out liued the other, should be buried aliue with his friende that first died. In short spabe A suitus fell sick and yéelded to na∣ture, Asmundus compelled by the oath of his friendship, tooke none but his horsse and his dog with him, and transported the dead bodie into a vast caue vnder ••he earth, & there determined (hauing victual••d himselfe for a long time) to finish his daies in darknesse, and neuer depart from him that he loued so deerelie. Thus shut vp and inclosed in the bowels of the earth, it hapened Eritus K. of Sweucland to passe that waie with his armie not ••ull two months after, who comming to the toomb of Asuitus, & suspecting it a place where tresure was hidden, caused his Pio∣ners with their spades and mattockes to dig it vp: wherevpon was discouered the lothsome bodie of Asmundus, all to besmea∣red with dead mens filth, & his visage most vglie and fearefull; which imbrued with congeald blood, and ••aten & torn like a raw vlcer, made him so gastlie to be hold, that all the beholders were afrighted He séeing himselfe restord to light and so manie ama¦zed men stand about him, resolued their vncertain perplexity in these terms. Why stand you astonisht at my vnusual deformi∣ties? when no liuing man conuerseth with the dead, but is thus disfigured. But other causes haue effected this change in mee: for I know not what audacious spirit sent by Gorgon from the

deep, hath not onelie most rauenously deuoured my horse & my dog, but also hath laid his hungrie pawes vpon me, and tering downe my chéekes as you see, hath like wise rent awaie one of mine eares. Hense is it that my mangled shape séeme so mon¦strous, and my humane image obscured with gore in this wise. Yet scaped not this fell Harpie from me vnreuenged: for as he assailde me, I caught his head from his shoulders, and sheashd my sword in his bodie. Haue spirits their visible bodies saide I, that may be toucht, wounded, or pierst? Beléeue me, I ne∣uer heard that in my life before this. Why quoth he, although in their proper essence they are creatures incorporall, yet can they take on them the induments of anie liuing bodie what soe∣uer, & tranform themselues into all kind of shapes, wherby they maie more easilie deceiue our shallow wits and senses. So te∣stifies Ba••lius that they can put on a material forme when they list. Socrates affirmeth that his Damon did oftentimes talke with him, and that he saw him and felt him manie times. But Marcus Cherronesius (a wonderfull discouerer of Diuels) wri∣teth, that those bodies which they assume, are distinguisht by no difference of sex, bicause they are simple, and the discernance of sex belongs to bodies compound: yet are they flexible, motiue, and apt for any configuration, but not all of them alike: for the spirits of the Fire and Aire haue this power aboue the rest. The spirits of the water haue slow bodies resembling birdes & wo∣men, of which kind the Naiades & Nereieds are much celebra∣ted amongst Poete. Neuerthelesse, how euer they are restrai∣ned to their seuerall similitudes, it is certeine that all of them desire no forme or figure so muche, as the likenesse of a man, and doo thinke thems••lues in heauen, when they are infeoft in that hue: wherefore I know no other reason but this, that man is the neerest representation to God, insomuch as the scripture saith, He made man after his own likenesse and image: and they affecting by reason of their pride, to be as like God as they may, contend most seriouslie to shroud themselues vnder that habit. But I pray ••ell me this▪ whether are th••re (as Porphirius hol∣deth) good Spirits as well as euil. Naie certeinlie (quoth he) we are all euill, let Porphirius, Proclus, Ap••leius, or the Plato∣nists dispute to the contrarie as long as they will, which I

will confirm to thy capacitie by the names that are euerie wher giuen vs in the Scripture, for the diuell which is the Summum genus to vs all, is called Diabolus quafi deorsum ruens, that is to say falling downeward, as he that aspiring too high, was thrown from the top of felicitie to the lowest pit of despaire: and sathan, that is to saie, an Aduersarie, who for the corruption of his ma∣lice, opposeth himselfe euer against God, whoe is the chiefest good. In Iob, Behemoth and Leuiathan, and in the 9. of the Apocalips, Apolyon, that is to saie, a Subuerter: bicause the foundation of those vertues, which our high Maker hath plan∣ted in our soules; he vndermineth and subuerteth. A serpent for his poisoning, a Lyon for his deuouring: a furnace, for that by his malice the Elect are tried, who are vessels of wrath and saluation. In Esay, a Syren, a Lamia, a Scrich-oule, an Es∣tridge. In the Psalmes, an Adder, a Basiliske, a Dragon. And lastlie, in the Gospell, Mammon, Prince of this world, and the Gouernour of darknes: so that by the whole course of condem∣ning names that are giuen vs, and no one instance of anie fa∣uourable tytle bestowed vpon vs, I positiuelie set downe that all spirits are euill. Now, whereas the Diuines attribute vn∣to vs these good and euill spirits, the good to guide vs from euil, and the euill to draw vs from goodnesse, they are not called spi∣rits but Angels, of which sort was Raphaell, the good Angell of Tobias, who exilde the euill spirit Asmodius into the desart of Aegypt, that he might be the more secure from his temptation. Since we haue entred thus far into the diuels common wealth. I beséech you certifie me thus much, whether haue they power to hurt granted them from God, or from themselues; can they hurt as much as they wil. Not so quoth hee, for although that diuels be most mightie spiries, yet can they not hurt but per∣missiuelie, or by some speciall dispensation: as when a man is fal•• into the state of an out-law, the Law dispenseth with them that kill him, & the Prince excludes him from the protection of a subiect, so, when a man is a relaps from GOD and his Lawes, God withdrawes his prouidence from watching ouer him, and authoriseth the deuil as his instrument, to assault him and torment him, so that whatsoeuer he dooth, is Limitata pote∣state, as one saithe: insomuche as a haire cannot fall from our

heades, without the will of our heauenlie Father. The Diuell could not deceiue Achabs prophets til, he was licensed by God, nor exercise his tyranie ouer Iob till he had giuen him commis∣sion, nor enter into the heard of swine til Christ bad them goe. Therefore need you not feare the diuell any whit as long as you are in the fauor of God, who raineth him so straight, that except he let him loose he can doo nothing. This man like proportion which I now retaine, is but a thinge of suffrance granted vnto me to plague such men as hunt after strife, and are delighted with variance. It may be so very well, but whether haue you that skill to foretell thinges to come, that is ascribed vnto you? We haue (quoth he) sometimes, not that we are priuie to the e∣ternall counsell of god, but for that by the sense of our ayrie bo∣dies we haue a more refined faculty of for seeing, than men pos∣sibly can haue, that are chained to such heauie earthlie moulder; or else for that by the incomporable pernicitie of those ayrie bo∣dies, we not onely out strip the swiftnes of men, beasts & birds, whereby we may be able to attain to the knowledge of thinges sooner, than those that by the dulnes of their earthlie sense come a great waie behind vs. Hervnto may we adioine our long ex∣perience in the course of things from the begining of the world, which men want and therfore cannot haue that déepe coniecture that we haue. Nor is our knowledge any more than coniecture: for prescience only belongeth to God, & that gesse that we haue, procéedeth from the compared disposition of heauenly and earth lie bodies, by whose long obserued temperature, we doo diuine manie times, as it happens, & therefore doo we take vpon vs to prophecy, that we may purchase estimation to our names, and bringe men in admiration with that we doo, and so be counted for Gods. The myracles wée work, are partly contriued by il∣lusion, and partly assisted by that supernatural skil we haue in the experience of nature aboue all other Creatures. But a∣gainst these illusions of your subtletie & vain terrors youinflict, what is our chéefe refuge? I shall be accounted a foolishe Diuell anon, if I bewray the secretes of our kingdome, as I haue be∣gun: yet speak I no more than learned Clarkes haue written, and asmuch as they haue set downe will I shew thée. Origin in his treatise against Celsus saith, there is nothing better for him

that is vexed with spirites, then the naming of Iesu, the true God, for he auoucheth, he hath séene diuers driuen out of mens bodies by that means. Athanasius in his booke De variis questioni∣bus saith, The presentest remedie againste the inuasion of euill spirits, is the beginning of the 67. Psalme, Exurgat Deus, & dissipentun inimici eius. Cyprian counsels men to adiure spirites only by the name of the true God. Some hold that fire is a pre¦seruatiue for this purpose, because when any spirit appeareth, the lights by little and little, go out as it were of their own ac∣cord, and the tapers are by degrées extinguisht. Others by inuo¦••ating vpon God, by the name of Vehiculum ignis superioris, and often rehearsing the Articles of our faith. A third sort are per∣swaded that the brandishing of swords is good for this purpose, because Homer faineth, that Vlisses sacrificing to his mother, wafted his sworde in the aire to chase the spirits from the blood of the sacrifice. And Sybylla conducting Aeneas to hell begins hir charmes in this sort.

Procul, O procul, este prophani: Tuque iu vande viam, vaginaque eripe ferrum.

Philostratus reporteth that he and his companions méeting that Diuell which Artistes entitle Apolonius as they came one night from banquetting, with such terms as he is curst in holy writ, they made him run awaie howling. Manie in this case ex∣toll perfume of Calamentum paeonia, Menta palma Christi, and Ap∣pius. A number prefer the carying of red Corrall about them, or of Arthemisia hypericon, Ruta verbena: and to this effect manie doo vse the iyngling of keyes, the sound of the harp, and the clash∣ing of armor Some of old time put great superstition in chara∣cters, curiously engraued in their Pentagonon, but they are all vaine, & will doo no good, if they be otherwise vsed than as signes of couenant betwéene the diuell and them. Nor doo I affirme al the rest to bee vnfallible prescriptions, though sometime they haue their vse: but that the onelie assured way to resist their at∣tempts is prayer and faith, gainst which all the diuells in hell cannot preuaile. Inough gentle spirit I will importune thée no further, but commit this Supplication to thy care: which if thou deliuer accordingiie, thou shalt at thy returne haue more of my custome: for by that time I wil haue finished certain letters to diuers Orators & Poets, disperced in your dominions. That

as occation shal serue, but nowe I must take leaue of you, for it is Terme time, and I haue some busines. A Gentleman (a frend of mine that I neuer saw before) states for me, and is like to be vndoone if I come not in to beare witnesse on his side: wherefore Bazilez manus, till our next meeting.

GEntle Reader tandem aliquando, I am at leasure to talke to thee. I dare say, thou hast cald me a hundred times dolt for this senseles discourse: it is no matter, thou dost but as I haue doone by a number in my dayes. For who can abide a scuruie pedling Poet to plucke a man by the sléeue at euerie third step in Paules Churchyard, & when he comes in to seruey his wares, theres nothing but purgations and vomits wrapt vppe in wast paper. It were verie good the dog whipper in Paules would haue a care of this in his vnsauery visitation euerie Saterday: for it is dangerous for suche of the Quéenes liedge people, as shall take a viewe of them fasting.

Looke to it you Booksellers and Stationers, and let not your shops be infected with any such goose gyblets or stinking gar∣badge, as the Iygs of newsmongers, and especiallie such of you as frequent Westminster hall, let them be circumspect what dunghill papers they bring thither: for one bad pamphlet is e∣nough to raise a damp that may poison a whole Tearme, or at the least a number of poore Clyents that haue no money to pre¦uent ill aire by breaking their fasts ere they come thither. Not a base Inck••dropper or scuruy plodder at Nouerint, but nailes his asses cares on euerie post and comes off with long Circum∣quaque to the Gentleman Readers, yea the most excrementori•• dishlickers of learning are growne so valiant in impudencie, that now they set vp their faces (like Turks) of gray paper to be spet at for siluer games in Finsburie fields. Whilst I am thus talking, me thinks I heare one say, What a fop is this he entitles his booke A Supplication to the Diuell, and doth no∣thing but raile on ideots, and tels a storie of the nature of Spi∣rits. Haue patience good sir, and weele come to you by and by. Is it my Title you find fault with? Why, haue you not seen a Towne surnamed by the principall house in the towne, or a Nobleman deriue his Baronrie from a little village where be hath least I and? So fareth it by me in christning of my Booke.

But some will obiect, whereto tends this discourse of diuels, or how is it induced? For sooth, if thou wilt needs know my reson, this it is. I bring Pierce Penilesse to question with the diuel, as a yoong nouice would talke with a great trauailer: who carri∣eng an Englishmans appetite to enquire of news, will be sure to make what vse of him he maie, and not leaue anie thing vn∣askt, that he can resolue him of. If then the diuell be tedious in discoursing, impute it to Pierce Penilesse, that was importu∣nate in demanding; or if I haue not made him so secret or sub∣till in his Art, as Diuels are woont, let that of Lactantius bee mine excuse lib. 2. chap. 16. de Origenis errore, where he saith, the diuels haue no power to lie to a iust manne and if they adiure them by the maiestie of the high God, they will not onlie con∣fesse themselues to be Diuels, but also tell their names as they are. Deus bone, what a vaine am I fallen into? what, an Epistle to the Readers in the end of thy booke? Out vppon shée for an arrent blocke, where learndst thou that wit? O sir, holde your peace: a fellon neuer comes to his answere before the offence be committed. Wherfore if I in the beginning of my Book should haue come off with a long Apologie to excuse my selfe, it were all one, as if a theefe going to steale a horse, should deuise by the waie as he went, what to spake when he came at the gallows. Here is a crosse waie, and I thinke it good heere to part. Far∣well, farewell, good Parenthesis, and commende mee to Ladie Uanitie thy mistres. Now Pierce peniles if for a parting blow thou hast ere a tricke in thy budget more then ordinarie bee not daintie of it, for a good Patron will pay for all. I where is he? Promissis quilibet diues esse Potest. But cap and thankes is all our Courtiers payment: wherefore I would counsell my frends to be more considerate in their Dedications, and not cast away so many months labour on a clown that knowes not how to vse a Scholer: for what reason haue I to bestow any wit on him, that wil bestow none of his wealth vpon me. Alas, it is eas••e for a goodlie tall fellow that shineth in his silkes, to come and out face a poore simple Pedant in a thred bare cloake, and tell him his booke is prety, but at this time be is not prouided for him: marrie about twoe or thrée daies hence if he come that waie, his Page shall say be is not within, or else he is so busie with my L, How-call-ye-him, and my L. What-call ye-him, that

he may not he spoken withall. These are the common courses of the world, whi••h euerie man priuatlie murmurs at but none dares openlie vpbraid, bicause all Artists for the most part are bafe minded and like the Indians, that haue store of gold & preti∣ous stones at command, yet are ignorant of their value, & ther∣fore let the Spaniards, the Englishmen, and euerie one loade their ships without molestation. So they enioying and posses∣sing the puritie of knowledge (a treasure farre richer than the Indian Mines) let euerie proude Thraso be partaker of their perfections, repaieng them no profit: and gylde himselfe with the titles they giue him, when he wil scarse returne them a good word for their labor: giue an Ape but a nut, & he will look your head for it; or a dog a bone, and hele wag his taile: but giue me one of my yoong Maisters a booke, and he will put of his hat & blush, and so go his waie: yes, now I remember me I lie, for I know him that had thanks for three yeares worke, and a gen¦tleman that bestowed much cost in refining of musicke, and had scarse Fidlers wages for his labor. We want an Aretine here among vs, that might strip these golden asses out of their gaie trappings, and after he had ridden them to death with railing, leaue them on the dunghill for carion. But I will write to his ghost by my carrier, and I hope hele repaire his whip, and vse it against our English Peacockes, that painting themselues with church spoils, like mightie mens sepulchers, haue nothing but Atheisme sch••sme, hypocrisie, & vainglory, like rotten bones lie lurking within them. O how my soule abhors these buck∣ram giants, that hauing an outwarde face of honor set vppon them by flaterrs and parasites, haue their inward thoughtes stuft with strawe and feathers, if they were narrowelie lifted. Far be it bright stars of Nobilitie, and glistring attendants on the true Diana, that this my speech shoulde be anie way iniuri∣ous to your glorious magnif••cence: for in you liue those sparks of Augustus liberalitie, that neuer sent anie awaie emptie: & Science seauenfold throne well nigh ruined by ryot and aua∣rice, is mightilie supported by your plentifull larges, which ma∣kes Poets to sing such goodlie himnes of your praise, as no en∣uious posteritie may forget. But from generall fame, let me digres to my priuate experience, and with a toong vnworthy to

name a name of such worthines, affectionatelie emblason to the eies that woonder, the matchlesse image of Honor, and magni∣ficent rewarder of vertue, Ioues Eagle-borne Ganimed, thrice nolle Amyntas. In whose high spirit▪ such a Deitie of wisdom appéereth, that if Homer were to write his O dissea new (where vnder the person of Vlysses he describeth a singular man of per¦fection, in whom all ornaments both of peace and warre are as∣sembled in the height of their excelence he need no other instanc to augment his conceipt, than the rare carriage of his honora∣ble minde. Manye writers and good wits, are giuen to com∣mend their patrons and Benefactors▪ some for prowesse, some for policie, others for the glorie of their Ancestrie and exceeding bountie and liberalitie: but if my vnable pen should euer enter¦prise such a continuate taske of praise, I woulde embowell a number of those wind puft bladders, and disfurnish their bald∣pates of the periwigs Poets haue lent them, that so I might restore glorie to his right inheritance, and these stoln Titles to their true owners: which if it wo••ld so fall out, (as time maie worke all thinges) the aspiring nettles with their shadie toppes shal no longer ouer dréep the best hearbs, or kéep them from the smiling aspect of the Sunn, that liue & thriue by his comfortable beames, none but Desert should fit in Fames grace, none but Hector be remembred in the chronicles of Prowesse, none but thou most curteous Amyntas be the second misticall argument of the knight of the Red-crosse.

Oh decus atque aeui gloria summa tui.

And héere (heauenlie Spencer) I am most highlie to acuse thée of forgetfulnes, that in that honourable catalogue of our En∣glish Heroes, which insueth the conclusion of thy famous Fairie Quéene, thou wouldst let so speciall a piller of Nobilitie passe vnsaluted. The verie thought of his far deriued discent, & extra∣ordinarie parts wherewith he astonieth the world, and drawes all harts to his loue, would haue inspired thy forewearied Muse with new furie to procéede to the next triumphs of thy statelie Goddesse, but as I in fauor of so rare a scholler, suppose with this counsell he refraind his mention in this first part, that he might with full saile procéed to his due commendations in the second. Of this occasion long since I happened to ••rame a son∣net

which being wholie intended to the reuerence of this renou¦med Lord, (to whom I owe all the vtmoste powers of my loue and dutie) I meante héere for variety of stile to insert.

Perusing yesternight with idle eyes, The Fairy Singers stately tuned verse: And viewing after Chap-mens wonted guise, What strange contents the title did rehearse. I streight leapt ouer to the latter end, Where like the queint Comaedians of our time, That when their Play is doone do fal to ryme, I found short lines, to sundry Nobles pend. Whom he as speciall Mirrours singled fourth, To be the Patrons of his Poetry; I read them all, and reuerenc••t their worth, Yet wondred he left out thy memory. But therefore gest I he supprest thy name, Because few words might not cōprise thy fame.

Beare with me gentle Poet, though I conceiue not aright of thy purpose, or be too inquisitiue into the intent of thy obliui∣on: for how euer my coniecture may misse the cushion, yet shal my spéech sauour of friendship, though it be not alied to iudge∣ment.

Tantum hoc molior, in this short digression, to acquaint our countreymen that liue out of the Eccho of the Court, with a common knowledge of his inualuable vertues, and shew my selfe thankfull (in some part) for benefits receiued: which since words may not counteruaile, that are the vsuail lip labour of euerie idle discourser, I conclude with that of Ouid:

Accipe per longos tibi qui deseruiat annos, Accipe qui pura nouit amare side.

And if my zeale and duty (though all to meane to please) may by any industrie, be reformed to your gratious liking, I submit the simplicitie of my indeuours to your seruice, which is, all my performance may profer, or my abilitie performe.

Praebeat Alcinoi pomabenignus ager, Officium pauper numeret studiumque fidemque.

And so I breake off this endlesse argument of spéech abrupt∣lie.

FINIS.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Dicite qui sapitis, cum hae•• quae sci∣mus iner∣tes: Sed trepidas a∣cies, & fera bella sequi.
• * 1.2

  Est aliquid fatale ••••••∣lum, per verba le∣uare.
• * 1.3

  Polme oc∣cidistis 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.4

  Scribimus iuderi doct••que poequiata pas••••m.
• * 1.5

  Heurapi∣un••mala
• * 1.6

  Non bene conducti vendunt periuria testes.
• * 2.1

  No ile be sworne vp∣pon a book haue I not
• * 2.2

  Idest, for the free∣dome of gold.
• * 2.3

  The de∣scription of Greedi∣nes.
• * 2.4

  The de∣scription of dame Nigardize.
• * 2.5

  The 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of pride.
• * 2.6

  The na∣ture of an vp-start.
• * 2.7

  The coun∣te••••eit 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 2.8

  The prodi∣gall yoong Master
• * 2.9

  The pride of the lear∣ned.
• * 2.10

  The diuell hath chil∣dren (as o∣ther mens) but fewe of them know their owne father.
• * 2.11

  The pride of Artifi∣cers.
• * 2.12

  The pride of Mar∣chants wiues.
• * 2.13

  The pride of pesants sprung vp of nothing.
• * 2.14

  Sparagus a flowre that neuer groweth but throgh a mans dong.
• * 2.15

  The base insinuating of drudges and their practise to aspyre.
• * 2.16

  As by car∣rying tales or playing the doutie Pandor.
• * 2.17

  The pride of the Spa∣niard.
• * 2.18

  The pride of the Ita∣lian
• * 2.19

  The pride of the French man.
• * 2.20

  The pride of the dane
• * 2.21

  〈◊〉〈◊〉 you know him not by any of these marks look on his fin∣gers & you shal be sure to fi••d half a 〈…〉〈…〉 worth are pence a pe••ce.
• * 2.22

  No re∣wards a∣mongst them for▪ desert.
• * 2.23

  What it is to make men labor without hope.
• * 2.24

  The com∣mendation of Anti∣quaries. Laudamus veteres, sed nostris vtimur an∣nis.
• * 2.25

  The com∣plaint of Enuie.
• * 2.26

  Philip of Spaine, as g••ea an e∣nemy to mankind as the di∣uell.
• * 2.27

  Murder, the com∣panion of Enu••••.
• * 2.28

  Italie, the storehouse of all mur∣derous in∣uenti••ns.
• * 2.29

  The Pas∣qui that was made vpon th•• last Pope. As Cardi∣nal Who•• s••y for example
• * 2.30

  The com∣plaint of Wrath, •• branch of En••••••.
• * 2.31

  〈…〉〈…〉 are most angry.
• * 2.32

  New gate, a common name for al prisons, as Homo is a common name for a man or a woman.
• * 2.33

  A tale of a wise Iustice.
• * 2.34

  The na∣ture of the Irish man
• * 2.35

  A merry tale of a Butcher & his Calu••••.
• * 2.36

  A tale of one Frye•• Cha••les, a foule mouthde knaue.
• * 2.37

  An inuec∣ti•••• aga••nst enemies of Poe••rie.
• * 2.38

  Absit arro∣gantia, that this speeche shold con∣cerne all diuines, but such dunces as abridge men of their law∣full liberty and care not howe vnprepa∣red they speake to their Au∣ditorie. Such Ser∣mons I meane as our sectua∣ries preach in ditches and other Conuenti∣cles when they leape from the Coblers stal to their pulpits.
• * 2.39

  Encomium H. Smithi.
• * 2.40

  The fruits of Poetry
• * 2.41

  P lin. l. b. 3.
• * 2.42

  The dis∣p••aise of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 chro∣nigraphers
• * 2.43

  I wold tell you in what book it is, but I am afraid it would make his booke sell in his lat∣ter daies, which he∣therto hath lien dead and beene a great losse to the Printer.
• * 2.44

  Looke at the Chan∣dlers shop, or at the Flaxwiues stall, if you see no tow nor Sope wrapt vp∣pon the ti∣tle page of such a Pamphlet, as Incerti Authoris Iopaean.
• * 2.45

  Which ••t home 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was worth a dozen of halters at least, for if I be not de∣ceiued his father was a Ropema∣ker.
• * 2.46

  His owne words.
• * 2.47

  The com∣plaint of Glu••••ome
• * 2.48

  〈…〉〈…〉
• * 2.49

  A rare wit∣•••••• ie••t of Doctor Watson. Or rather Belly-als, because all their minde is on their belly.
• * 2.50

  The mode∣ration of F••yer Al∣phonso, K. Philips Confessor.
• * 2.51

  The strang alteration of the Countie Molines the Prince of Parmas Compani∣on.
• * 2.52

  The com∣p••aint of drunken∣nes.
• * 2.53

  Drinking supernag••∣lum, a de∣uise of drinking new come out of Fraunce: which is, after a man hath turn••d vp the bot∣tom of the cup, to drop it on his naile & make a pearle with that is left, which if it shed & he cannot make stand on, by rea∣son thers too much, he must drinke a∣gaine for his pen∣nance.
• * 2.54

  King Ed∣gars ordi∣nance a∣gainst dri••king
• * 2.55

  The won∣derful ab∣stinence of the Mar∣ques of Pisana yet liuing.
• * 2.56

  The 〈◊〉〈◊〉 lawes a∣mongst drunkar••s
• * 2.57

  The 〈…〉〈…〉 drunken∣nesse.
• * 2.58

  The dis∣commodi∣ties of drunken∣nesse.
• * 2.59

  The com∣plaint of Sloth.
• * 2.60

  Videlicer, before he come out of his bed, then a se•• breakfast, then din∣ner, then afternoons nunchings, a supper and a rere∣supper.
• * 2.61

  Which is ••etter of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 glutton, or vagrant vnthrift.
• * 2.62

  The effects of sloth.
• * 2.63

  The means to auo••de de Sloth.
• * 2.64

  The de∣fence of Playes.
• * 2.65

  The vse of Playes.
• * 2.66

  The con∣futation of Citizens obiections aga••••st Players.
• * 2.67

  A Players wittie an∣swere to Augustus.
• * 2.68

  A compa∣rison twixt our Plaier•• and the Players beyond the Sea.
• * 2.69

  The due commen∣dation of Ned Allen.
• * 2.70

  The se∣uenth and last com∣plaint of Lecherie.