Cheap riches, or, A pocket-companion made of five hundred proverbial aphorismes &c. as the next ensuinge page will more particularly notifie / by Natthanaell Church.

To the Reader.

READER, Th' hast here a little Cabinet, Or Jewels rare: a precious Ring be set With richest Stones: a Nose-gay that doth yeeld A sweet and fragrant Smell. Each com∣mon Field Hath not such Flowers as these. To tell thee true, Here's nothing doth accost thee, but whats new. These are not Forreign Proverbs Eng∣lished: N•• sure: they are all Brittains born and breed. READER, thoul't say, having read th' Adages The Author's MASTER OF THE SENTENCES.

Edw: Hicks M.A. utrius{que} Academiae.

To the Reader.

REeader, Th'hast here a birth, which as I gather, For it's conception ows to Son and Father: An Issue which for'ts Mid wifery doth stand Mixtly indebted both to Sea and Land. A lawful Prize. But o the Devil of Gain! One Pocket now two Churches can contain! Well. Yet beware thou, how thy Censure blots The Author: ther's no Church without its spots. He's a Nathanael, credit me, and I'le Avouch, when he wrote these, there was no guile. Possest his heart. Come, shew thy self to be A Friend to Church, and I'le be so to thee. But if thou hast a place for wonder fit, Give it the CHURCH and COM∣MON WEALTH of WIT.

C. F. M.A.

Authoris Amicus ad Lecto∣rem.

MUch Profit, Wisdome, Learning, in Few Words, Small, this Cheap, this Usefull Tract affords. On any Page vouchsafe to cast thine Eye: And if thou canst not like it, cast it by. How e're despise not this Sententi•…•… Schoole; Least thou be sentenc'd a Censorious Foole. Reader what-ever, if thou honest be: It merits to keep Company with thee.

Will. Bodham.

To his Ingenous Friend Mr. Nathanael Church on his Pocket-Companion.

VVHil'st thou was toss't upon the waving Main, Me-thought Noes Ark was floating once again. Thy Friends on Land were troubled much for thee, To prove their Churches visibility. Now if I want thy good society, Thy book mean while shall my Compani∣on be. Where whiles thy Hand speaks to mine Eye: so here. Mine eye becomes thy Hands Interpreter.

If great Bookes be great evils, thou ha•…•… sh••wn A remedy: Thine's but a little one. Since Coyn's grown scant, 'twas wisely done by thee, To keep our Pockets from vacuity.

Tho. Ford.

Author ad Patrem jam 17. annos defunctum.

WEll, I'le drop one Encomi∣asticke, rather Then by a Clownish silence robb my Father. Lest. if by me that name be vilifi'd, I'me named sacriligious parricide, Though Him to praise, there needs no Paines, or Skill. Of whom his very Foes could not speake ill. Here needs no Florishes, go, cunning Pates, Goe, sleep: His own workes praise him in the Gates.

Nay all the Rhetorick I can devise, Is but to multiply Tautologies. His Theologick Miscellanies can Him studious prove, to know both GOD and MAN. His Coffer long agoe is dead and rotten: The Good mans Treasure must not be forgotten. His Christian letters most elebo∣rate, Now out of print, I'de buy at any Rate. Meane while I will be thankefull, not repine, My Fathers Gold and Silver both are Mine.

N. C.

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