All the vvorkes of Iohn Taylor the water-poet Beeing sixty and three in number. Collected into one volume by the author: vvith sundry new additions corrected, reuised, and newly imprinted, 1630.

Here fokoweth a touch of paultry Scabbed and infecti∣ous kinds of Sheepe, which I thinke sit to place by themselues in the lagge end of my Booke, as farre •••• I can from the cleane, sound and profitable Sheepe be∣fore mentioned, for feare the bad should infect the good.

ANd now from solid Prose I will abstaine To pleasant Poetrie, and mirth againe. The Fable of the golden Fleece began, Cause Sheepe did yeeld such store of gold to Man, For he that hath great store of woolly Fleeces, May (when he please) haue store of golden peeces, Thus many a poore man dying hath left a Sonne, That hath transform'd the Fleece to Gold like Iases And heere's a my stery profound and deepe, There's sundry sorts of Mutton, are no Sheepe: Lac'd Mutton which let out themselues to hire, Like Hackneys, who'lbe fir'd before they tire. The man or man which for such Mutton hungers Are (by their Corporation) Mutton mongers: Which is a brother-hood so large and great, That if they had a Hall, I would intreat To be their Clarke, or keeper of accounts, To shew them vnto what their charge amounts: My braines in numbring then would grow so quicke I should be Master of Arithmeticke: All States, degrees, and Trades, both bad and good, Afford some members of this Brotherhood; Great therefore needs must be their multitude, When euery man may to the Trade intrude; It is no freedome, yet these men are free, Not sauers, but most liberall spenders be: For this is one thing that doth them bewitch, That by their trading they ware seldome rich: The value of this Mutton to set forth, The flesh doth cost more than the broth is worth:

They all Ewes, yet are exceeding Ramish, And will be dainty fed, whoso'uer famish. Nor are they mark'd for any man, or no man, As mene, or thine, but euery mans in common, ••••beads, and necker, and breasts, they yeeld some itore ••••••scarcely one good liuer in nine score: Liuers being bad, 'tis vnderstood, The reinea are fild with putrified blood, Which makes them subiect to the scab, and then They prone most dangerous diet vnto men. And then the prouerbe proues no lye or mocke, On seabbed sheep's enough to spoyle a focke. But yet for all this, there is many a Gall, •••••• Mutton well, and dips his bread •• the weell. And were a man put to his choyce to keepe, 'Tis said, a Sbriw is better then a Sheepe. •••••• if a man be yok'd with such an E••••••, See may be both seabbed Sheepe and Shrew. And he that is so march'd his life may well Compared be vnto an earthly hell. Into my Theame which I wrote of before, Let this Mutten must haue one cut more. These kind of Sheepe haue all the world ore'growne, And seldome doe weare flecces of their owne, For they from sundry men their pelts can pull. Whereby they keepe themselues as warme as wooll. Besides, in colours, and in shape, they varie Quite from all profitable sheepe contrarie White, blacke, greene, rawny, purple, red, and blue, Beyond the Raine-bow for their change of hue: •••••• like in alteration, •••••• that bare Ayre they cannot liue vpon. The Moones mutation's not more manifold, Silke, Veluet, Tissue, Cloath, and cloath of Gold: These are the Sheep that Golden fleeces weare, Who robe themselues with others Wooll or haire: And it may bee, 'twas such a Beast and Fleece, Which Iason brought from Cholcos, into Greece.

They are as soft as silke-wormes.

VVere it no more but so, I dare be bold To thinke this Land doth many Iasons hold: VVno neuer durst to passe a dang'rous waue, Yet may (with ease) such Golden fleeces haue, Too much of one thing's good for nought (they say) Ile therefore take this needlesse dish away: For should I too much of of Lac'd Mutton write I mayo'recome my readers stomacke quite. Once more vnto the good Sheepe ile recare, And so my Booke shall to its end exspire: Although it be not found in ancient writers, I finde all Mutton-caters are Sheepe-biters And in some places I haue heard and seene, That cutrish Sheepe-bisers haue hanged beene. If any kinde of Tike should snarle or whine, Or bite, or wootry this poore Sheepe of mine. Why let them barke and bite, and spend their breath, Ile neuer with them a Sheepe bitter's death. My Sheepe will haue them know her Innocence Shall liue in spight of their malcuolence; I wish them keepe: themselues and me from paine, And bite such sheeps as cannot bite againe. For if they snap at mine, I haue a pen, That (like a truky dog) shall bite agen. And in conclusion, this I humbly crane, That euery one the honesty may haue, That when our fraile mortality is past, We may be the good Shepheards sheepe at last.