Pasquils mad-cap· And his message.

Mad-cappes Message.

GOe Muse abroade, and beate the world about, Tell truth for shame, and hugger vp no ill: Flatter not folly with too plaine a flowt, Nor on a Buzzard set a Faulcons bill: Do no man wrong▪ giue eu'ry man his right, For time will come that all wil come to light.

Do not perswade a foole that he is wise, Nor make a Beggar thinke he is a King: Say not a Mole can see that hath no eies, Nor starke dead stockes haue any power to spring, For while that Logicke would maintaine a lie, Tis easely found out in Philosophie.

Tell idle eies that know not how to looke, Their wanton thoughts will worke them nought but woes, Tell addle wittes that haue the world mistooke, Vnbrideled willes are Reasons ouerthrowes, While onely Trueth that walkes by Wisedomes line, Happieth the heart and makes the soule diuine▪

Goe to the Court, and tell your gratious Queene, That in her loue her land hath blessed beene: And tell her land that you haue truely seene, No Court on earth more graced in a Queene, Where Vertue giues a kinde of heauenly Crowne, That all the world can neuer tumble downe.

There tell the Lordes and Ladies in their eares, They must be loyall in their humble loues, The fairest Badge that Honor euer beares, Is, in a crowne a nest of Turtle-doues, The crowne of Lawrell that can neuer wither, The Birdes, in loue, that liue and die togither.

There tell the Courtier he doth kindely serue, That of his curtsie cannot make a cloake▪ Where Bounties hand doth honor best deserue, That giues rewarde before the word be spoke: And tell the Gallants that will seeke for Graces, Chaste modest eies best figure Angells faces.

Goe bidde the Lawyers looke their Common places, And where they know the trueth, there giue the right: For God himselfe, who heares the poore mans cases, VVill giue a day vnto their darkest night: When in the booke that doth all thoughts disclose, Their soules shall see whereto iniustice growes.

Goe to the learned Vniuersities▪ And tell the Schollers of the losse of time, Bidde them beware of too much liberties, Best thriuing plants are tended in their prime, And bidde them first goe read the rules of Grace, That lower blessings may come on a pace.

Tell country Players, that old paltry iests Pronounced in a painted motley coate, Fills all the world so full of Cuckoes nests, That Nightingales can scarcely sing a note: Oh bidde them turne their minds to better meanings, Fields are ill sowne that giue no better gleanings.

Goe tell the Fidlers that doe haunt the Faires, They are but coales to kindle wicked fires, Where onely Pence do make vnequall paires: Performe the actions of vncleane desires: When in an Ale-house in a drunken pot, The diuell daunceth though they see him not.

Goe tell the Swaggrers that doe vse to sweare, Heere, or in hell, their mouthes will sure bee stopt: And tell the theeues that robbe without a feare, That Tiborne trees must once a month be topt: And tell the cluster of the damned Crue, Such hell hounds heauen out of her mouth doeth spue▪

Bidde each Diuine goe closely to his booke, And truly teach the comforts of the soule, And to his life to haue a carefull looke: Knowing what actions Angels doe enrowle, And tell them truly that diuinitie VVith worldly loue hath no affinitie.

Feed not the Souldiour with delight of blood, VVhile Mercie is the honour of a field: And tell the Merchant, that ill-gotten good, A wretched life a wofull end will yeeld: And tell the Miser vsurer of monie, His soule is poisoned with his bodies honie.

Goe tell the Craftes-man of his craftie worke, And that his cousoning one day will decay: For long the Fox may in his borow lurke, That may be catcht in hunting for his pray: And whereas truth can onely beare a blame, Falshoode must runne and hide her face for shame.

Goe tell the Fencer with his deadly foine, That Caine and Abel yet are currant weight, VVhere is more easie for to part than ioine The soule and bodie by a wicked sleight, VVhile secret Murther in the sinners brest, VVill neuer let the foule to be at rest.

Goe tell the Beggar at the Rich mans gate, That Lazarus in Abrahams bosome liues: And tell the Rich, that Diues wofull state, Doth shew what almes lacke of Pittie giues: And tell the VVise that Salomon is dead, VVhile wilfull Fancie brings a Foole to bedde,

Goe bid the Iailour looke vnto his charge, And not be cruell where he may be kinde, For though a prisoner be not set at large, Yet in his sorrow let him comfort finde, That when the soule at Mercies doore doth knocke, Pittie on earth may ope the heau'nly locke.

Goe to the prisoner that doth liue opprest, And tell him, Patience is a heau'nly power, That in all troubles giues the Spirit rest, And makes it happie in a heau'nly hower: When true Remorce that Vertues griefe doeth see, From Care and Sorrow soone will set him free.

Goe tell the wretch that would and cannot thriue, That his endeuour, standeth for a deede: And bid the sicke man in his soule reuiue, While Angells ioyes on sinners teares do feede: And tell the soule that mourneth for her sinne, Heau'n gates stand open for to let her in.

Tell not the Crow, that she is lillie white, Because a Painter colourd hath her coate, Nor say a Cuckoe hath in musicke sight, Because in Maie she hittes vpon a noate, But say the Crow is blacke, the Cuckoe's hoarse, The finest carkasse will be but a coarse.

Tell Aesopes Pig, that Flies with Peacockes feathers, They are but stolne, or borrowed, not her owne: And tell the shippe that sailes in roughest weather, Vpon a Rocke she may be ouerthrowne: And tell the Hart that will not keepe the wood, To graze too farre, will doe him little good.

Goe tell the Poets that their pidling rimes, Begin apace to grow out of request, While wanton humours in their idle times Can make of Loue but as a laughing iest: And tell prose-Writers, Stories are so stale, That pennie Ballads make a better sale.

Goe tell the Authors of high Tragedies, That bloudlesse quarrells are but merry fights, And such as best conceit their Comedies, Do feede their fancies but with fond delights, Where toyes will shew that figure Trueths intention, They spoile their spirites with two much inuention.

Goe bid the Scriuener looke in his Indentures. That no ill couenant a conueiance marre, And tell the Sailer that in Sea aduentures, A shippe ill guided splits vpon a barre: And tell the Fisher when he layes his nets, He fisheth ill that but a Gudgin gets.

Goe tell the Iugglers that their iests are toies, Where Wisedome seeth the woorth of little wit, Their exercises but for girles and boies, That watch the Gander while the Goose doth sit, Their trickes but trifles, bred by wickednesse, But to deceiue the eie of simplenesse,

Goe tell the Pander and the Parasite, The one his tongue is like the others minde, The Parasite without a tooth can bite, The Pander liues in a more loathsome kinde, The one, his facultie is flatterie, The other liues by fitthie Lecherie.

Goe tell the traitor, if thou hitst of any, That Iudas is a prologue to their play: And tell the world, that Iudasses too many, In secret corners spring vp euery day, Who, since both heau'n and earth may well abhorre, Goe hang themselues as he hath done before.

Goe to the Country, where the Farmers dwell, And bid them bring their corne out to the poore, Tel them the Sexton comes to ring the Bell, When Death will fetch the richest out of doore: And they too late to their sorrow shall see, How Churles on earth, in hell shall plagued be.

Goe tell the Laborers that the lazie bones That will not worke, must seeke the beggars gaines, And tell the Beggar that his fained groanes, Must haue a whip to ease him of his paines, While worke-mens labour and the lame mans woe, In Wisedomes eie cannot vnpittied goe.

Thus not in order seeke out euery one, But as thou meetst them, tell them what I bid thee, But if thou seest thou canst do good of none, Of gracelesse Schollers quickly seeke to rid thee, Such as determine in their sinnes to dwell, Thou canst not help them if they runne to hell▪

But lest thy worke be all too much to doe, Beginne againe and I will make an end, But, haue a care of that I set thee to, Lest I discarde thee euer for a friend: But take good heed, beginne where I begunne. And make an end, and I will soone haue done▪

Goe bid the Courtier that he be not prowde, The Sloudier, bloudie▪ nor the Lawyer blinde: And bid the Marchant, that he doe not shrowde A subtile meaning in a simple kinde: Goe bidde the Schollers learne, the Doctors teach, And haue a care to liue as they doe preach.

Goe bid the Farmer bring abroad his graine, The Craftes-man, that he soundly make his ware, The Workman, that he labour for his gaine, The Beggar, that he waite for Pitties share: Then, if the Sexton come to ring the Bell, Where Faith is fixt, there is no feare of Hell.

Forbid the Poets, all fantasticke humors, The Players, acting of vnlawfull iests, The Prose-men, raising of vnciuill rumors▪ The Fidlers playing, but at Bride-ale feasts▪ The Fencers fight, but onely to defend, That easie quarrells soone may haue an end,

Go tel the spend-thrift that doth sel his land, Money will melt like snow against the Sunne: And he that takes his rent vp afore-hand, May hap to want before the yeare be done: And tell a foole that playes on better wittes, A lowzie head wil quickly shew his nittes.

Go bid the Scriuener looke he truly write, And tel the Iuggler that his feates are stale: And bid the Sailer looke his shippes be tight, And take the blowing of a merry gale, And bid the fisher lay for bigger fish, A world of Gudgins will not fil a dish.

Go tel the rich man that his store of wealth, Wil purchace him no place in Paradise, And bid the strong man boast no more of health, For as the Lamb, we see the Lion dies: And bid the wise man boast not of his wits, Lest vnawares he fall to madding fits.

Go bid the Iaylour looke vnto his lockes, And keepe his keies and feare no prisoners flight, And keepe his rackes, his tortures, boltes and stockes, To make a traitour bring a truth to light, But to his power to helpe the poore oppressed, For God is pleasde in pittying the distressed,

Go bid the Poets studdie better matter, Than Mars and Venus in a Tragedie, And bid them leaue to learne, to lie, and flatter, In plotting of a Louers Comoedie: And bid Play-writers better spend their spirites▪ Than in Fox-borowes, or in Cony ferrits.

Doe not alure a wanton eie to Loue, Nor seeke with words to witch an itching eare: Play not the Turkie with the Turtle-doue, Nor fray a Babie with a painted Beare, Finde better worke to set thy selfe vnto, As good by ydle, as haue nought to doe.

Follow not Follies, Shadowes, nor Conceits, For in the end, they will but all deceiue thee: Practise no iestings, nor no iuggling sleights, For in the end Discretion will perceiue thee, And when that woe and want doth ouertake thee, Fortune will faile thee, and the world forsake thee.

Loose not thy time with looking after toies, Nor fall to building Castles in the aire, Let Natures Iewels neuer be thy ioies, Butloue the beautie of the inward faire: Where ere thou goe, let Trueth and Vertue guide thee, And then be sure no euill can betide thee.

Spend not thy patrimony in thy apparell, In cardes nor dice, in horses, hawkes, nor hounds, Maintaine thy right, but make no idle quarrell, And keepe thy selfe within discretions bounds: Abuse no friend, nor trust an enemie, And keepe thy selfe from euill companie.

Reuenge no wrong, except it be too great, True valour liues in sparing, not in spilling, Denie no truce that mercie doth intreate, A cruell conquest that doth end in killing: For Patience finds that poison's wrath to death, An angry word is but an angry breath.

Bid them feare God, that meane to shunne the diuell, And hate the Diuell, that wil come at God, And say when children be inclind to euill, Parents sometime of force must vse the rod: For sinne is hatefull in Iehouahs eies, And Man his life but in his mercie lies.

FINIS.