Abuses stript, and whipt. Or Satirical essayes. By George Wyther. Diuided into two bookes

OF FEARE.

SATYR. 10.

SOft now; what Pasion's this that followes next? Surely I thinke hee's with a feuer vext, He shakes and lookes so pale; O me, tis feare! Ile make his humors also to appeare, Since I haue found him. This is he that mar's, All our delight on earth: 'tis he that bars Man the right vse of pleasure. And tis he, That was at first ordaind our plague to be, Auoid him you that loue and looke for rest, Let a true courage banish him your brest: For this makes not your bodies only num, Tremblingly cold, deform'd, and pale become.

But 'tis a passion vgly, grim, and foule, That doth with greefe e'ne clog the very foule: And comes (if that I faile not in my skill) Out of a false opinion of some ill, That's present or to come; It inly stings, And also for companions it brings Both paine and shame; and diuers haue I seene, That with this feauer haue sore shaken beene; Two but of late whose feare so foolish prou'd, Many thereby were vnto laughter moou'd, One came in puffing almost out of breath, As if he hardly had escaped death, And why? Alas! he thought a whited post, He on a sodaine saw had beene a Ghoast: And that surmise did such impression take, That though he after saw 'twas but a stake, If yet he do but come that way benighted, He is e'ne with the very place affrighted: Th'other came running like a man that's mad, Oh! he had seene the Diuel that he had, Where in an old house fitting on a block, We lookt and there we found a turky-cock: Thus many feare where cause of feare is none, And make themselues a iest for euery one; Yea feare hath made a number so affraid, That they haue oft their dearest friends betraid: For this cause onely I do nere intend, To choose a coward for to be my friend arrow_forward , And if that women be not growne so coy, To scorne to take aduisement of a boy,

Let them not chuse a coward to their mate, Least they repent it as one did of late: For not far off there dwelt not long agoe (Ile tel a tale that many yet do know:) A Gentlewoman not of meanest ranke, Whose fauour might haue wel deserued thanke, For that in face and dowry few did match her, Many a gallant tride his wittes to catch her: Who being kept but narrowly at home, So she were gone she car'd not much with whom; Now see Dame fortune that wil seldome part, Her fauours vnto men of good desert, Brings to the house a fellow that in shew, Seem'd worthy of the prize, but was not so; Yet hauing opportunity he tries, Gets her good-will and with her thence he flies; But lo, the Parents quickly mist their daughter, Rais'd all the towne, and following hardly after. Were by meere chance into an old houseled, Where this young couple were new gon to bed: You that haue euer in that pickle bin, Iudge what a case these naked folkes were in. But what did he? there leaues his nevv stolne prey, And like a feareful Covvard slunke avvay. Out on such Asses; hovv could he for shame, So leaue a vvoman to beare all the blame? And for the greefe s••e suffers vvith her friends, Hovv can the villaine make the vvhore amends? I knovv not: but for playing such a part, 'Tis certain be hath turn'd the vvenches heart,

And she for climing to a Cowards bed, Hath lost her credit with her maiden-head. Such was th' effect of feare. And more, from thence Proceedeth cruelty, impacience, Breach of our promise, with much enuying Together with the hatefull vice of lying; Murthers and treasons toe; theres nought so base, So full of villany, shame or disgrace, The feareful would not act with all his heart, To free himselfe from feare of death or smart: Yea some would be contented very well, So they might scape Death, to goe quick to hell Such is their nature; I my selfe haue seene, Feare bring those euils that had else not beene: As it hath brought the plague on some. Beside, There's many a one for feare of death hath dyed: And there be diuers haue so careful bin, To rid themselues from feares which they were in; That as the ship that doth Charibdis shun, They ran on Sylla and were quite vndone; And why? alas it is the Cowards error: To think the present danger ful'st of terror: The feare of euil more tormenteth some, Then doth the thing they fear'd whē once tis come Men dread what is; what wilbe; and alas! Many a thing that nere shal come to passe; If they did only feare apparant things, That likeli-hood of terror with it brings, As troopes of enemies, or theeues, or treason, Pirats or stormes at sea; there were some reason

Or colour for it then, but they wil quake, At fictions; at meere nothings; their hearts ake At their owne fancies: Superstitious, At tales of Fairies, and of Visions, Yea I haue seene some heauy and sull sad, Because of a poore foolish dreame they had: Oh what meanes man that hauing mischeefes store Must in his owne conceit needs make them more? Thinkes he those wil not grim enough appeare, Vnlesse he apprehend them first by feare? Sure tis a plague the Diuel did inuent, To work in man a lasting discontent: And taught it Adam, whe revppon he said, I saw my nakednes and was affraid: This is our fault; but yet I cannot see, A reason why men should so fearefull be: May they not ioy and be as merry still; With hope of good, as sad with feare of ill? Sure I think yes; and wil on hope so feed, No ill shal feare me til tis come indeed, For that which likeliest seemes for to betide me, God in his mercy yet may put beside me. And though much proofe hath bred with in my brest, This resolution, yet of all the rest, This last confirm'd it most, for th' other day, When the hard frost had stopt the Scullers way, And that the flowing Thames with yce was arch't So that the people ouer on it march't, Amongst the rest one bolder then was fit, Wandring beside the path for want of wit:

Stept on a peece of yce which with a crack, Rent from the maine, and stopt his going back: The ycie fragment ('twas a heauy token) Swam to the bridge where all the yce was broken, The people look't and he for aid did craue, But oh! there was no power in them to saue; Which soone conceiuing on his knees he fell, (I from the bridge perceiu'd him very well) And lifting vp his handes his ayd implores That sau'd old Ionas without sailes or oares; And see Gods mercy when he drew so neere, No hope of safegard seemed to appeare And when that he had three times whirled bin, And that the Arch was like to suck him in: Beyond our expectation (in a trise) There thrusts betweene a greater peece of yce, Which comming downe as if it scornd to stay, Beat by the lesser for to giue it way, And a while staid it; but he had beene faine, When that was gone to take his turne againe, Had not, next God, the people stood his arrow_back friend, And sau'd him by a rope that's some mans end: So this prooues, men may scape a mischeefe now; When tis so neere them, they perceiue not how, And I do hope this argument is cleere, That we haue as much cause to hope as feare; More trembling humors I might here vnfold, Which, some will be vnwilling to be told, And therefore passe them; but I do protest, This hurtful monster I so much detest,

That I am very loath for to omit, Any occasion of disgracing it: Yet do I not alow their resolution, That meerely of a hellish constitution, Haue such obdurate hearts so hard in euill, They neither seeme affraid of God nor Diuell. Such I haue noted to, but truely they, Are in as bad, but a contrary way. They prate and sweare as if they could affright, And make Hobgoblin run away by night, When questionlesse as bold as they appeare, They are perplexed with an inward feare; Yea I haue knowne a trifle or a blast, Hath made such Champions oftentimes agast. There is a feare thats good, and hinders sinne, Indeed that, euery good man should be in, And theres a feare that keepes a kingdomes state, From ruine, if it be not taine to late; Tis not a slauish terror, thats a crime, No rather 'tis a wise fore-sight in time: That makes men very heedfull to fore-thinke Danger to come, and not as we do, winke At our owne nakednes; as without care, Who spies it, so we see not our selues bare. This feare it is that makes men to prouide Against a storme they may the better bide The fury of it; this 'tis keepes off wrong, And makes a City or a Kingdom strong, And I much doubt the wanting of these feares, Wil make vs smart for't yet ere many yeares,

For since we are become a pretty number, Although we can but one another cumber, Or serue to make a Hubbub, we suppose, There are no nations dare to be our foes, We thinke a wondrous policy we shew, If once in foure years we do take a view, Or count the number of our able men, Flattring our selues there with; as if that then; (Hauing so great and huge a multitude, Though we were nere so inexpert and rude) There were no cause of feare: but a Realmes might Consists not in the number that must fight, More in their skill, for of good souldiers ten, Will foile a hundred vnexperienc't men, Such as we are: For, 'tis a shame to speake, How wonderfull vnfitty and how weake, This ignorance makes most of vs, except VVhom braue South-hamptons gouernment hath kept In warlike order; I doe meane indeed Our Hampshire Ilanders, of whom for need A hundred boyes that nere had haire on chin, Shal from fiue hundred of vp-landish win Both field and Towne: By which it may appeare Good gouernment with profitable feare VVithin a few short yeares so wel wil thriue, One shal become to haue the odds of fiue: These therefore that haue wisedome for to tell, When they do any thing amisse or well; Stil in this Passion obserue a meane, And not to feare nor to presumption leane.