A nights search· Discovering the nature and condition of all sorts of night-walkers; with their associates. As also, the life and death of many of them. Together with divers fearfull and strange accidents, occasioned by such ill livers. Digested into a poeme by Humphry Mill.

A Nights Search .

SECTION 1. The character of a modest , wise Poet , with some touches by the way at his opposites ; his happy end . THe true borne Poet , that doth bend his quill To scan the world , and finding out the ill , Provides a cure ; and still it is his care To launce the sore , that others may beware : He 's temperate , wise , and modest , he will sit In company to pollish ore the wit . He 's harmlesse in his life ; no person , place Are hid from his conceits : he shewes that face . That 's most obscur'd : his Genius and his pen May make you think his spirit lives in men . He 's like a little world ; for all things there Obtaine a being in their proper spheare . All men do meet in him ; his searching Art Sucks in the sweet , and creame of every part , Gull , knave , or foole , before he 'll let him passe , He 'll learne the true character of an asse . He sets out sin ( most lively ) black as hell , To fright men from the bait ; he can as well Display't in parts , or grosse , or both , or either , ( Though sin and he were never bred together ) As well as any curious painter can The fashion of a landskip or a man . The guilty man may read his sin , his shame , And call it his , although there 's not his name : But vertue in her beauty he hath knowne , He makes all sure , and takes her for his owne : Then spreads her beauty , that the world may see Shee 's lovely in herselfe ; and all may be Corivals in this match ; for she will do Favours to men , and yet be modest too . He is a maker , not alone of verse , But of the matter too ; he doth rehearse Much substance in a word : he can compose His lofty fancies , or in verse , or prose : But if in verse , how smoothly doth it glide Into the heart ? the memory beside Retaines it best : his raptures do translate The mindes of some into a happy state . His numbers with his measures do agree ; The accents meet with such sweet harmony : The emphasis is raised with such grace , That all concurs to keep both time and place . Good language in his lines he doth expresse , His couplings joyne with sense ; he is no lesse Than heire to Parnassus : h 'had such a draught At Helicon , that he is rightly taught To speake the native tone of all the nine ; But courts Vrania , 'cause she is divine . What ere his measures are , or short , or long , Lyricks , or Saphicks ; if he frames his song Iambique like , or if Pentameters , Or double meeters , or Hexameters ; Or if he pitch upon Heroick straines : 'T will speak his praise , because his season'd braines Cast out no drosse ; he 's modest in his line , What ere his subject be , his worth will shine . True profit and delight do meet together In his conceits : although the foole findes neither . His lines are stor'd with witty usefull pleasure ; Though idiots sleight , wise men will prize his treasure . His company is sweet to those that know How to make use on 't : but he 'll seldome throw His breath away upon a scornfull asse , A brute he came , and so he 'll let him passe . He takes nor fables , nor conceited dreams , Nor idle fictions to make up his theames ; Yet he will use them , onely to allude To good , or ill , to shame the multitude . If melancholy , then he 's wise , and grave , Griefe , sorrow , death , are subjects he will have To work upon ; he gives his words by weight ; With vaine delights he 's quite out of conceit . If he be pleasant , all his writings tend To take men with delight : he will commend A little good , to make 'em love the rest : He 's sad'mongst bad men , merry with the best . He 'll dash an evill out of favour , then He 'll let it blood , but comfort up the men . He slights the world , nor will he ever be A favorite to prodigalitie . He 's free to all , regarding not his store , And that 's the reason he is often poore . He hates lascivious rimes , he 'll not applaud A faire fac'd whore , nor yet the common bawd , But whip 'em still ; for he will ever prie In secret places where most dangers lie . He 's noble-minded ( not a sordid else ) He strives to know , and to enjoy himselfe : Nor will he flatter great ones for a fee , Whose worth lies in their wealth , for such as he Are able to discerne : nor will he sawne Vpon his patrons ( laying truth to pawne In every line ) unlesse in him he finde An honest heart grac'd with a noble minde : Not like a temporizer , who will hold Pace with his vices , onely for his gold , Who seribles much , and shamefull praise doth gaine ; T 'had better bin undone ; for time will staine His name for ever : most men do detest All verses for his sake ; but yet the rest Are ne're the worse ; for such this time I borrow : I have digress'd , I le speak of him to morrow . But this ingenious Poet doth rehearse Things as they are , or should be , and his verse Not stuft with clouded words , or conjuring straines , Nor thunder-claps , which might distract the braines Of honest readers : but in tearmes most fit T' expresse his matter , and to teach them wit . He doth refine conceits , and raise them higher , His musique's next unto the angels quire . Nor doth he spin it thred-bare ; he 'll begin New fancies as he goes ; the spring within Runs alwayes fresh : he doth not trade abroad With borrowed wit , nor tread the beaten road . His Genius works when other men do sleepe , His aimes are heavenly , and his judgements deepe . He 's humble still , you cannot make him know His owne desert ; he 's not a man for show . He doth not search for praise , ( he loaths all such ) He thinks he 's simple , though he knows so much . But yet to shew the vilenesse of that brood That doe prefer their humours , hate all good , Hee 'll baffle such men , and he scorns the nest Of venom-coupledsots : silence is best To answer such back-biters : he will slight Detracting vassals that will vomit spight At what they know not , and will look asquint On things of worth ; what ere has most worth in 't They slubber most with gall ; in all that 's evill They 'll goe as far , and be as like the Devill , As all their wit can make them : oh ! but then They 'll fall with shame before the Poets pen. Though they like Xerxes whip the sea , and send A challenge to the hils ; yet in the end The sea 's too strong , the mountaines are too high For fooles to clamber : so like fooles they die . This honest Poet finds among the wise His due respect : for they have learn'd to prize Persons , and things of worth : and still his bent Is how to shame the vile , and give content To all the best . Come , take him as you find him ; Hee 'll think of you , though you doe never mind him , Turne all his verse to prose , it beares the sense And lustre of a poem : and from thence True worth doth spring . The Poets first did teach Humanitie to men , made up the breach , That rudenesse made ; all usefull Arts were cloath'd With Poets wit : why should it then be loath'd ? The learned'st in the languages , rehearse Much of the sacred text was writ in verse ; As some of Moses law , the Psalmes , the Song Of Solomon , the holy peoples wrong , Vnder their foes , by Ieremy related ; The booke of Iob , and all the songs were stated In measur'd Meeters ; who would verse disdaine , When Poets have such patterns for their straine ! He that 's Dramatick , and doth purge the stage From scurrill drosse , and shewes this simple age Their moulded trophies ; and doth always strive To keep both persons names , and things alive , His end is good ; but idiots learne by this How to contrive their ways : to do amisse Some there conclude ( of late I heard one say ) I must go meet a whore at such a play . What pity 't is such time , with wit , and cost Should be bestow'd , and prove but labour lost ? This was invented chiefly to be us'd By Kings and Nobles , not to be abus'd By hackney truls : but now I must returne To lay my honest Poet in his urne : For having spent his time well , now h 'as past His life to death : the hungry grave at last Is clos'd upon him ; there he must abide Vntill his just and happy cause be try'd . His Epitaph . YOu sollid stones , incite the gentle dust To guard this man of worth , that 's buried here ; He is a jewell , left unto your trust , 'Till he in glory , gloriously appeare . Though saucie death hath laid him in this grave , His name 's alive , and living praise shall have ,

SECT. 2. Against lascivious Poets and poetry , and of the ill that is occasioned by such meanes . THou that art skill'd in poetry , and wilt Abuse thy wit , thy parts , to mixe the guilt And filth of lust together , answer here To what I charge thee with ; let shame and fear Possesse thy heart : this first doth breed the odds , Thou striv'st to make the names of heathen gods Both famous and immortall : alwayes trying To paint them fresh , and shew thy art in lying : Is 't fit a Christian with his muse , his pen , Should strive to be an ape to heathen men ? Art thou so barren of invention made ? Is wit and fancy low , that thou must trade Beyond-sea altogether ? fictions vaine Must stuffe thy verse , and still direct thy straine . Their feigned gods are guilty ( they confesse ) Of lust , and rapes , and of all filthinesse . Those Poets with rich nature were endu'd , Their witty fictions do so much delude Thee with conceit , that thou hast nothing new ; They fram'd false gods , and worship'd them as true . Poore men ! they rov'd at randome in the dark , Or natures light , but never had a spark O' th light above : yet better use they made Of that , than he who makes his muse turne jade . I say not but those fictions may be us'd To set forth Vertue ( not to be abus'd To trick up Folly ) vices may be showne In their owne colours , and be better kowne , If well applyed : we may leave the drosse , And take the rest , then therein's gaine , no losse . But he that in lascivious straines doth glory , And trims the ruines of a bawdy story , Doth shame his Muse , he strives ev'n to undoe her ; She proves a bawd , his wit 's a pander to her . Such poyson'd bayts trick'd up in gawdy rimes , Doe cheat the simple , and infect the times . To sinne 's too much , more to continue in 't , 'T is worse to die and leave his sinns in print . 'T is strange ! that men who having wit with Art , Should be so mad to take the devills part ! Doth God give men their learning , parts , and wit , To raise them up , the devills size to fit ? Above the rest , on such he sets a price , That can with skill paint over his device , And scribble out a black and hellish rowle ; 'T is Sathans will : it traps the silly soule . For any good , he is a stranger to it , Or plead for truth , he hath no heart to doe it . If things of worth doe glance but from his pen , 'T is but by chance , hee 'll wish 'em out agen . If he but finde one , bred of heavens race , He strives his cause , or person to disgrace : And to discourage all that hold with them Who tread the way tow'rds new Jerusalem . But if a blade comes , that 's to vice inclin'd , Hee 'll hugg him , 'cause he only suits his mind , And he that can to his base humours bend , ( Though nere so bad ) hee 'l choose him for his friend In hindring good , preferring that that 's evill , Is poetry to recompence the Devill ? Will any man esteeme that Poet best , Who in his wanton wit exceeds the rest , And smooths a path for whores , and does applaud A shamelesse villaine , and a rotten bawd ? His ulcer'd lines not savouring of the salt , But rais'd from burning lust , or wine , or malt , Doe vex the wise ; they only cheere all bad men , Make work for Pimps , and sport for fooles & mad men . A Poets pen should ever strike at vice , And raise true vertue to a noble price : And honour truth , dash falshood out of favour , Shame foolish Imps , and praise a sweet behaviour ; Or else the Devill may a Poet prove , To honour lust , and give it termes of love . Of him he borrowes what he doth indite , He would doe more , but that he may not write . 'T is like great Pluto hath bespoke his quill : If this be honour , let him have it still . He does bewitch the youth to bend his minde To vaine delights , ( the sting , that comes behinde ; ) The young man by 't is fondly drawn away ; The old man sees vice trimm'd , then goes astray : The modest Maid , whose blushing shewes her grace , She runs away ; the whore , whose brazen face Is varnisht o're , she can abide and cry , Here 's wit at will ; 't is pitie he should die . The baud she mouths it , sitting on a bench , A wittie Spark , he loves a prettie wench . Her windowes with such pamphlets furnisht be , ( The Fiends they dopromote her bawderie ) The Whiskin laughs untill his heart be full ; For with this bait he lately catcht a Gull : Who spent his time to learn this shamelesse wooing To sell himselfe ( for fooles must needs be dooing ) He 's like to thrive , his trade comes on apace , And all those imps that love the filthy race , Like Sappho's birds , may chatter out thy praise , And sweare thy scull shall weare the wreath of bayes : The fowle that 's newly caught will set thee forth , And sing a catch : oh ! here 's a man of worth ! Thy Art doth teach him to fulfill his lust , Stirs up the fire , then this vile heap of dust , Much like an Ape , does on the strumpet grin ; But she so crafty ere he can her win , Must pay her well : her smiles , and curled locks Do draw him on ; 'till he hath got the pox : Then like a woodcock taken in a snare , His gold is gone , his empty pare growes bare , And all his feathers moulted clean away ; And when the Chirurgeon comes to seek his pay , This light-brain'd foole , is growne so light in purse , Except his rot , it is his greatest curse . He payes no debts , and keeps a hungry table , Hee 'd run away , but that he is not able . His sin that promis'd him such sweet content , Now stings his soule : the whore when all is spent , Forsakes him ; jearing at his curs'd estate ; Her love was false , but perfect is her hate . Then quickly he begins to stinke alive , While with his gold the queane doth seeme to thrive : He 'll curse the Poet , raile against his whore ; And being growne so miserably poore , Disease and want have quencht his lust full flame , He dyes dispairing , leaves a rotten name . The heavens know if ever he repented ; 'Mongst men below his death is not lamented ; Excepting those that liv'd upon his losse , And 's creditors that had so great a crosse . Poore wretched man ! that hath so short a time ! He 's like a worme that creeps in dust and slime ! Yet spends himselfe , sinne sucking out his marrow ; The world ( thogh wide ) doth seem for him too narrow ; His braines are nimble to contrive the ill To please his humours , and his headstrong will . Those Milldew'd pleasures that delight the sense , He entertaines ; but for his recompence , Death joynes with sinne to throw him in his grave , Dust bars him up , and keeps him like a slave . His Epitaph . HEre lics a man bewitched with a whore , Who spent himselfe , his time , and his estate : Shee slunk away , leaves him to pay the score : Could any man be more unfortunate ? Now for his debt , Death hath attacht his bones , And keeps them under these bard-hearted stones .

SECT. 3. The wanton Poets Funerall . THe bawdy Poet 's growne as bad as he , Takes leave of wit , and ingenuitie ; Though he would seeme to prove a whore had calling , Shee helps him not , although shee sees him falling . Excesse of drink , with vilenesse hath o'rethrown him , Few friends he hath , and some asham'd to own him . That Morbus which hee wisht to other men , Like Eccho's sounding , answers him agen . Great Sol doth blush , denies to give him light ; And Luna scornes to come within his sight : The earth doth grumble now to beare him too ; Nor any creature will him service doe : They all disgrace him , he with sinne is prest ; ( Shame matcht with sorrow , tames both man & beast ) For Celleredge he made his belly large , And fill'd it up ; but others bore the charge . And yet ( forsooth ) hee must be counted wise , Though blasted breath would raise him to the skies , And his conceit may draw it as his lott , Yet ere he dyes , he turnes a very sott : His land-flood wit that swell'd above the brink , Stole empty ayre : his soule being like to sink , His lustfull fictions , with the Muses nine , Affords no help : his sicknesse is divine . The inward test , his spirits sad events , Can finde no ease in barren complements . Like Iordan's streames to Mare Mortuum's lake , He smoothly glides , a restlesse rest to take . Him poverty , and shame doth apprehend ; Guilt followes on , and doggs him tow'rd his end ; And having vented all his paultry stuffe , Like Dravtons Moon-calfe , burned to the snuffe , Betwixt extreames , then in his grease he fryes , ‛ Sparkles a little , and then stinking dyes . From thence his Venus cannot him deliver , Nor Cupid rescue with his bow , and quiver , Nor Mars with 's valour , no , nor lustie Iove , ( Great Iupiter , will helplesse to him prove . ) Swift Mercury and Saturne have agreed , With all the Gods , to faile him at his need : Apollo's harp can give him no content ; Parnassus hill , and Helcon have spent Their cooling drops : bold Bacchus findes no roome To lay a hogshead by him in his tombe . Ceres can never ease him with the Crop ; The Vote of Chorus brings no healing drop . But Charon waits to ferry him away , Where Pluto looks to take him for his prey : And Cerberus with his winding heads doth stretch , And longs to be the keeper of this wretch . There 's melody me thinks amongst the throng ; If any mourne , 't is 'cause he liv'd so long . Sol shewes his face with many a pleasant smile , Since from his sight he 's gone that was so vile . The Moon shines freely , there was none did do her Such wrong : for he was still an eye-sore to her . The earth is glad she 's of her burthen eas'd , Her furniture is with his absence pleas'd : Thus having laid him in the earth so deep , We 'll leave him with the crawling worms to sleep . His Epitaph . A Poet lies arrested here by death , Who honour'd lust and made it run in rimes ; The world lost nothing but infected breath ; Nor gain'd hee ever by his hatefull crimes : All that he left , or to adorne his herse , Or pay his debts , was only bawdy verse .

SECT. 4. The Pimps complaint , the Bawds reply ; he changeth his course , she gets another ; their life and death . Pimp . ALas , alas ! what mischiefe 's here befell ? My friends are dead who lov'd me very well : What shall I do ! my mind is so at strife ! I 'le hang my selfe , I 'm weary of my life . My place is little worth , my trading's poore , I spend my vailes , and what I got before Will soon be gone ; this life long cannot hold , Then poverty will catch me being old . Provide your selfe , I 'le take some other course : 'T is bad with me , and likely to be worse . Bawd . Thou silly coxcombe ! dost thou vex and prate Hold still thy clack , or else I 'le break thy pate . Hast thou forgot when thou wast poore and base , I took thee in , releiv'd thee in this case ? What wast thou prythee , but a beggars Imp , When I preferr'd thee , making thee my Pimp ? Now thou hast got good raggs upon thy back , And money in thy purse ; thou saucie Iack , Dost dominere ? in grumbling in this sort ? Thou slight'st my love , and bringst an ill report Vpon my house : what though those men be dead ! Have I no more that are as bravely bred ? Thou knowst I have an hundred at the least ; And every one a profitable guest . All give thee money , feast thee with good cheere ; Thy place is worth fullfifty pounds a yeare . But tell me , is 't the losse of one or two , Which makes thee fret , and keep so much ado ? Or else the promise of a larger pay ? Who is 't that would inveagle thee away ? Art thou too well ? dost live too much at ease ? Stay , stay thou foole , and if thou dost me please , When ere I dye , my wealth and houshold-stuffe Shall be thine owne ; that will be meanes enough , If any wench hath c●ost thy strong desire , Let me but know , I 'le make her quench thy fire . But if thou dost my favour now refuse , Go like a sherk , till I shall heare this news That thou art begging up and downe the street ; 'T would make me laugh if thee I could but meet . Thou like a vagrant both to wind and weather , Shalt goe as bare as ever thou cam'st hither . Well , be advis'd , ere thou dost from me part , I can have choyce , but thou wilt feele the smart . Pimp . What , are you angry ? will you break my head ? I fear you not , I doubt you 'le creep to bed Before your time ; who then will have the worst ? Of all the world , the bawd is most accurst . You say you rais'd me , when you found me poore : You tooke me in to man a pockie whore . To great preferment was I raised then , A Pimp is still adjudg'd the scum of men . You call that breeding which doth breed mens shame ; And those brave fellows which do use the game That 's dam'd to hell ; the more they are , the worse ; They snatch the baite but never mind the curse . Cast up you gaines , the profit that comes in , Hell sets a glosse on 't ; what 's the end of sin ? I thought all well when sinne was my delight ; But oh ! the wound ! how doth it now affright My horrid conscience ! now , I hate this thing ; The honey-taste is past , now comes the sting . 'T is not the promise of your wealth that shall Insnare my soule in hellish cursed thrall : Nor yet your threats ; I doe not feare your charms , These lofty winds blow me no mortall harms . Come fair , or foul , there 's nothing shall dismay me , I 'le leave my sin , or else it will betray me . My conscience shall my poverty controll , For th' sweet of sin , I will not sell my soule . My choyce is made , when you your choyce doe make , Think on that burning bed , that furious lake That boiles with brimstone : oh ! forsake this way , Or else the fiends will take you for their prey . I 'had rather beg my bread while here I dwell , Than beg and howle , and be deny'd in hell . Some I have knwne ( being taken with a smile ) That serv'd their lusts though time did wink awhile , It call'd in death , then thus they make their moane , The sowre is come , but all the sweet is gone ! Seeing such objects bleeding , then thought I Who would so live , so living would not dye ? As doth the Bee his progresse flye about , And lights on weeds , and yet sucks honey out : So have I drawne good from this loath some evill , And learnd a way how to deceive the devill . I hate those vermine that doe haunt your house , My vailes , your proffers are not worth a — I will be freed from 't , now I goe about it , Give me free leave , or else I 'll goe without it . He being freed from this vile shamefull strife , Doth now resolve to lead an honest life . I wish him happinesse ; still more to know What 't is to be redeem'd from hell below . Was 't ever knowne that any came from hell ? Or any chang'd , that once with whores did dwell ? There 's none so bad , that if they can but leave Their sinfull wayes , but mercie may receave . Let none presume , and yet let none despaire ; When stormes are past , the heavens will be faire . Muse , stay not here , this convert to applaud But rurne thy selfe to shame this shamelesse bawd . Shee melts her grease , as shee is running yonder , With blood-hound sent , to seek a pimp or pander . Shee meets a shark , they needs must drink a cup ; He eannot serve : she takes a begger up ; Shee chang'd his raggs , and robb'd him of his — And now he 's proud , and falls unto his vice With expedition : having man'd a whore , He gets a fee : now I shall ne're be poore . I must be wise ( thinks he ) though I am bold , My pläce is warme , an open barne is cold . He fits her humour , knowing once her minde , And she ere long will pay him in his kinde . ( They love so strongly , who would have 'em parted Till they 'ave been whipt and both together carted ? ) He to the bawd spake thus ( and prais'd his place ) Pimp . Blest be the time that ere I saw your face , This is the service I did strive to gett , And by good fortune we together mett : I 'm over-joy'd that I this place now have ; Who 'ld live to beg , and be so poore a slave ? You know my minde , I likewise know your bent , I make no doubt but I shall give content . Oh! happy night that brought so sweet a morrow ! Come fill this bowle , I 'le drink away all sorrow . Bawd . If thou prov'st right , thou 'lt eas'ly please my mind , Though I am hasty , thou shalt find me kind . And to my wenches thou must loving bee , And courteous still , that Gentlemen may see Thou do'st respect them ; they 'll reward thy pains : When thou do'st find thy constant weekly gains , 'T will cheere thy heart . Look that in any case Thou art not often absent from thy place . Ne're go to Church , for what should'st thou do there ? 'T will make thee heavie , and bring needlesse feare . Nor read , nor study ; things being strict and high , Will break thy brains : why should not thou and I Live merrily ? I have the dainti'st books Of poetry ; if thou but cast thy looks Vpon them once , sadnesse will steale away ; They make my guests as merry as the day . And if thou lov'st me , never friendship have With any that are strict : they 'll dig a grave To bury pleasure in ; they 'll prate of death , Of judgement , hell , & charme thee with their breath . If any one thou know'st , that has but coyne , And loves a wench , the gains shall halfe be thine , If thou canst win him . Do but break a jest To find his bent ; then , never let him rest , But bring him home ; we 'll ease him of his cash ; Do 't by degrees , thou must not be too rash . I have two wenches , Kate and little Nell , Th' are pretty rouges , and have their Art so well , Who ever comes , and does but with them play , He 's taken : then they make his gold their pray . These things , and more , hereafter shalt thou learne ; Hold up thy head , speak , thou art for my turne . Pimp . Pray make no question on 't ; for I 'le be true , And kind to all ; but most of all to you . I have a master that 's a joviall blade , He 's full of gold : I know he loves the trade . He 'll often aske , as I by him do passe , Where dwels a handsome , young , and trading lasse ? Do as you promise , let me share a stake , I 'le lay a bait , him we shall quickly take . When he attends on some fine Curtezan , And gets a double fee , he 's then a man Much in request : he struts , and cocks his hat , And has forgot he was a beggars brat . He 's bold and shamelesse ; that 's in him requir'd , With bawds and whores 't is chiefly still desir'd . Thus he goes on ; the whores do on him smile , He 's merry-mad : but in a little while The common Iayles , with Bridewell do consent To keep this Pimp close to his punishment . And by degrees , his body with disease Grows weake ; his sin doth : fast upon him seaze . His legs do grudge to beare him any longer , All means are blasted that should make him stronger . His old familiars he againe must have ; Those six-legg'd creepers bring him to his grave ; Whether he dy'd to satisfie the Law , Or by a hedge , or on a pad of straw ; Or is he tumbled int'a stinking ditch ? 'T is one of these , but 't is no matter which : Where e're he lies , there let him still remaine , For if you stir him , he will stink againe . His Epitaph . HEre lies a beggar that was lately made A Pimp , to serve a Bawd and man a Whore , 'T is strange a beggar should sorsake his trade ! It made him poorer than he was before . His bosome-friends return'd , t' increase his strife , Conspir'd with death to take away his life . And now the bawd is growne so rank in smell , So stale and hated where she us'd to dwell ; That she takes leave of joviall merrie blith , And having quite outliv'd her haire , her teeth , ( For Partridge , Chickins , Quaile , she 'll often crave it Worse meat must serve , she 'll eat when she can have it ) Her custome leaves her now : her houshold stuffe Must go to pawne for bread : sh' has scarce enough To feed her craving jawes ; her kinred all Forsake her , loath her ; in this shamefull thrall She vomits out her breath . ( None ever spi'd A gastly'r sight . ) And so she sunk and di'd . Her Epitaph . 'A Woman Bawd who did much mischiefe hatch , Did harbour vermin to corrupt the age : She had a fob to hide them from the watch : Now she lies plaister'd in this earthen cage . Death takes the Drone which us'd to rob the hive ; She has a grave , who was a grave alive .

SECT. 5. Of two common whores , how they liv'd and did ; and a pimping theise , his life and death . MVse be not silent , thou hast hit the sore , Refresh thy selfe , and track the common whore , Her wayes , her wiles , and her declining age , And her Consorts set with her on the stage . Their sweet parts acted ; cause them to bring in heart , A just accompt what profit comes by sin . This qucane , when pride doth once possesse her Or povertie doth seeme to threaten smart , Or too much fulnesse wanton lust doth raise , Or idlenesse , cause her to take by-wayes , She 's lost for ever . Widow , maid , or wife , If once she does affect a whorish life . Then like a Bitch she in her lust will bnrne , Takes up a rogue , and he must serve the turne . She walks the fields ; more often in the street , Her bold rude looks , when she a man doth meet , Must make him blush , if he hath any grace ; She 's impudent , and will not change her face . When she is past , observe , and you shall finde , Herbrazen face will cast an eye behinde : She 'll fawne , and claime acquaintance with sorne asse , They must be cozens ; then away they passe Vnto some Taverne ; with her wiles she 'll take him , And ere , they part , a truer Asse she 'll make him . He buyes his sin , and sels himselfe away , And now this whore has made this foole her prey . When with his wit , his money too is spent , Then farewell Coz , she leaves him discontent . She hunts about , and finds some countrey-gull , Then tries her wits , how she may neatly pull His feathers off : but when her custom 's fading , She 'll take a Shark ; for she must needs be trading . He haunts her still , his sellowes doe no lesse , She doth not owne that , that she does possesse . These dung-hill flies suck carrion . For their prey They take by force , or steale her goods away . ( Being desp'rate villains ) if she doth but grumble , They 'll beat , and kick her till they make her tumble , And having had their ends , they leave her bare ; Going to other , there they get a share . This life they lead , their practice is so ill They feare the lash , and thus they rob'em still . Such after-claps , and worse , doe chase their pleasure : ( Ill-gotten goods is but deceitfull treasure . ) Then ere 't be long to Bridewell she is brought , ( She cals it Hell ) for there she must be taught To turne the mill , or beat hemp , chuse her which : If she complaines , she 's troubled with a stitch , They 'll use a whip to fright this stitch away : Her gowne is blew , and browne bread is her pay . When she grows old , and time hath plow'd her brow , She fils those chinks with painting : think but how Her painted grease doth shew ; it melts about her : A shamefull object ! every boy will flout her . Then she begins to rattle in the throte , The harshest discord alwayes is her note ; 'T will rise and fall , like dreamers in their sleep : And through her nostrils does her language creep . Now Gallicus is fierce , and takes a skip , Seizeth with fury'pon her upper lip ; Takes part for earnest : you may see her gums , Her teeth left naked , now she picks up crums , This woman-eater , not content with those , Does grow so greedy that she eats her nose : Her eyes are spar'd , she may reflect , and see Her monstrous visage , and deformitie . Being noysome ; to a cottage she 's confin'd , Her sap is gone , and nothing left but rind , That 's shrunk and dry ; all hope doth quite for sake her : For better , or for worse , the worms must take her . Her Epitaph . HEre lies a strumpet that did use to prey 'Pon any one for gaine : at last her sight Grew odious to the world . She chopt away Her selfe : O! Fate , how this might sinners fright ! Old Time grew sick upon 't ; he loath'd her breath , And he for ease resign'd her up to Death . Another she is growne as bad , or worse : If her trade failes , she 'll try to cut a purse , Or break a house , or cheat ; what e're is naught She 'll doe : then to the Sessions she is brought : Arraign'd , condemn'd , she being guiltie found : And ends her dāyes two yards above the ground . Her Epitaph . THis shamlesse Imp searcht up and downe to finde An other world of sin ; at last she found What she would faine have lost ; she lest behinde This world : the hangman hid her under ground . Sh' was overcharg'd with rope , fast by this place : Her Motto's this ; she dy'd for want of grace . The villain that did keepe her for his whore , His meanes is spent ; alas ! he cannot rore ! Hee 'd borrow cash , but none will take his word , Then he will swear he 'll make 'em eat his sword . Now helpe him at a pinch ! hee 'll truely pay Within a month of the next quarter day : He 'll give his bill , and seal it with his hand , But he 's not guilty of a foot of land . How happy should he be , had he but coyne ! The Broker is resolv'd to make him fine Vpon receit of gold : he 'd in those feathers , Iust like a Turky , bristle out all weathers . He 's vext , but hopes that if the tearme were come ( With some new trick ) he should soon light on some . If to a place he comes where is but drink , He 'l cock the broom-mans beaver : they must think He wants not money : by intreaty he Resolves to grace them with his company . But if he thinks they' are cowardly and base , Hee 'll turne his whiskers up , and rub his face , And seeme to take distaste at every word , He laies his hand , and looks upon his sword ; Stand out on 's way ; beleeve me sir hee 'll fight ; 〈◊〉 blade is old , fit for a man of might . The Brittons tooke it when they conquer'd Wales , A Captaine gin 't him coming back from Cales For his hot service , as a recompence : 'T is hilted since , which cost him thirteen pence . If one that 's valiant doth intend to try him , He 'll answer him , ( for why should I bely him ? ) But he must chuse his way : ( he'as no desire , Being burnt before , tolye behind the fire . ) He 's turn'd t' his freedome : first his railing tongue Must give the onset : that not proving strong , His heeles take place ; and he away doth run So soone as ere the combat is begun . This paultry rascall cheats , and sherks about , At last some Officer doth find him out , He 's try'd ; they tooke his hand against his will , And made it hisse ; me thinks I heare it still . This gracelesse wretch will yet no warning take , But worse , and worse , unlawfull shifts he 'll make ; He breaks a house , and for it he is tri'd , Or else for robbing by the high-way side . Then he 's condemn'd to lose his shamelesse breath : The time being come , he dies a woodden death . Before , his whore and he did spit out thunder ; They burn'd together ; but they hang asunder . His Epitaph . This sinfull clod of earth did still daevise The pleasant'st way to hell : he had releise From one who was his whore ; but when that prize Did melt away , and rot ; he turn'd a thiefe . His cause was pro & con , and for his life The halter umpir'd , and did end the strife .

SECT. 6. Course salutations betwixt a pennilesse letcher and his where that forsooke him . A Man that was addicted to a whore , His habit shew'd that he was growne so poore That he was faine to shark , and shift about ; Amongst his friends he pickt a living out . He did not care so much to be invited , He scorn'd the day , and lov'd to be benighted ; He was not curious , nor did love to heare , Y' are welcome , Sir ; for that 's your only cheare ; Nor was he daintie , give him what you will , His hungry stomack would digest it still , For under Forma pauperis he would eat , He would not pick a quarrell with his meat , Though it were musty : he had lost his smell , His nose being sunk , promis'd no tales to tell . Vpon a time he walking in the street , Did meet this whore : and thus he did her greet : ( She lookt on him , as though she had not known him , She scorn'd him poore , and was asham'd to own him . ) Letcher . Thou painted quean ! hast thou forgot me now Thou hast undone me ! shall I tell thee how , Thou hedge-bird trull ! thou didst abuse me first . I'was blest before , but by thee made acurst . I met thee walking , as I crost the field , And spoke in jest ; thou didst in earnest yeild To my first motion : so I gave thee wine ; But thy lascivious and thy wanton twine Did so bewitch me , that I went astray ; Foole that I was ! to be so drawne away With such a Trull ! O! thy dissembling face That did enchant me ! brought me to disgrace ! Thy eyes consented with thy flatt'ring tongue To work my ruine ; shall I beare this wrong Without revenge ? I spent my meanes on thee ; Thou wilt not know me in my miserie . Behinde my back for me thou fram'st thy mocks , Thou rotten whore , of thee I gat the pox . While I had money , thou would'st often sweare , Of all that liv'd , to thee I was most deare . Now all is gone , thou leav'st me in distresse ! ( But painted fire it can no heat expresse ) Do'st hold thy colour ? art thou not asham'd To heare those things that I with griefe have nam'd ? Whore . What , what 's the matter , thou art growne so rude ? Thou art too bold , my presence to intrude Without my leave ; this is mad kind of meeting , ( So like a brute ! ) is this thy gentle greeting ? If I had thought thou hadst been such an Asse , When thou didst meet me , I 'de have let thee passe . I did not beg to have thy wine , nor thee , 'T was freely proferr'd ; thou would'st give it mee . What else beside , I was unwilling to it ; But thou didst urge me , and didst make me do it . My way of living is to use my trade ; What should I do ? was I so handsome made , And not for use ? pray , was it ever knowne , But without danger one might use her owne ? I had no portion e're to set me forth ; And in these times , not any man of worth Will take a Maid , though she 's adorn'd with graces , ( Well borne and bred ) till angels shew their faces ; Vnlesse some Vulcan that is coursely bred , I ever loath'd to give my maiden-head To such a Clowne : then blame me not to do Such things as Nature ever prompt me to . I was not bred to labour with my hands , I am a prisoner , bound in Cupids bands ; All actions ent'red let them on me lye ; I will not vex , here will I live and dye : I knew thee not when thou cam'st to me first , Thou might'st have parted having quencht thy thirst ; And kept away till I had sent for thee ; What is the spight that thou do'st owe to mee ? Thy money 's spent , which makes thy envie burne , A trull of six pence might have serv'd thy turne : Thou being privie to thy poore estate , Yet com'st to me ! I do thy basenesse hate ! I had thy money , thou hadst pen'worths for it ; Thou wast content then , now thou do'st abhor it . I thought thou hadst a mint ; for I 'le say that , Thou wast too free , for ever to be fat . I lov'd thee , as I lov'd another man ; All of their wares will make the most they can . Would'st have me watch thee in this time of griefe ? The hospitals are bound to give reliefe To men diseas'd : what wouldst thou have me blam'd , Cause thou do'st want , or with the pox art sham'd ? Go like a Letcher , 't is thy canker'd sore , That was a breeding many yeares before . Let me alone ; if once thou do'st me wrong , My friends at Court shall quickly tame thy tongue . Now like a prisoner standing at the bar , His speech does faulter , and his mind 's at war Against it selfe : his very heart doth ake , His hands do tremble , and his knees do quake , His eyes do sparkle , with his haire upright , His looks are gastly , which might well affright A man to see : his lips began to mutter , But shame did silence them , he could not utter A word compos'd ; but when he did begin To make reply , he thought upon his sin . Poore man distrest ! betwixt these two extreames , Wake and be silent , or discourse in 's dreames . She never chang'd , nor shamefull griefe nor feare Did once possesse her : waiting still to heare His fruitlesse answer : being in a trance , He doth at last his spirit thus advance . Letcher . Vile strumpet ! guilty of all filthinesse , The badge of shame ; none can it so expresse As thou deserv'st ! thou art a loathsome grave , Thou swallow'st men alive ; still thou do'st crave . The mouth of hell , or else the Devils jawes , Come short of thee : thou open'st wide thy clawes . Bring'st soules , and bodies , and their states in thrall ; Hell takes no money ; but thou takest all . The Spiders venom , and the loathsome Toad Are not so venome , as to make aboad With such a Serpent : go and hide thy face , For to thy sex thou art a great disgrace . Venus is chaste , when she 's compar'd to thee , And Messaline that was a whore so free , Which bought her pleasure at so great a price ; Thou sell'st thy sin , which doth increase thy vice . Thou hell on earth ! let ages blaze thy shame , Let time and death seale curses on thy name ! And let a Poet put thy sins in rime , When thou art dead and rotten in thy slime ! Oh! let that place , where first I met this jade , Be barren ever , let a dismall shade Attend upon it , let that silent earth Breed only vermin with a monsters birth ! You fruitlesse plants , how could you then abide me ? Time blast those trees because they did not hide me : And let those springs that murmur'd other times , For being silent then , share in those crimes That were committed ! let them still be dry , Or fill'd with teares ; and let all passers by Take and preserve some as a monument , To shew my sins , they may the like prevent ! And let that path which I went o're to see , Be crost by none it brought a crosse to mee ! And ever let that whisp'ring gale of winde Be banisht too ; that would not prove so kinde As once to check me ! let the light'ned aire Swell up with griefe , and breake with close despaire . And let those birds that were as Testes to it , Because they saw , and yet did let me do it , Ne're sing againe ; and when they seeke their meat With empty crawes , let them finde none to eat ! And let that T av . rne , where we first did drink , Breake first the Master , after let it sink ! And let those boyes , that did at us connive , Beare halfe the sin ; and let them never thrive ! Oh! let that house which doth resemble hell , ( The place I meane where once this whore did dwell ) Be made a dung hill : for it did invite me To sup with care , for sorrow to benight me ! I am a patterne of this wished ill ; And on record my sins must tarry still : Black like my crimes ! so is this dolefull letter , It may preserve the good , or make them better . If any one shall read this tragick line That 's guilty ; let him joyne his heart with mine , To live againe , before we dye for ever ; I 'le give the onset from the world to sever . And let the man who is endu'd with grace , In this foule glasse , behold his fairer face ; With care to keep it from this sinfull staine . Teares will not cleanse it , for 't is di'd in graine .

SECT. 7. Of a child found murthered by a whore the mother of it . A New-borne infant , that was found of late , Did move beholders to compassionate , And drop downe teares ; ( for'twas a dreadfull sight ! I wish the murtheresse may be brought to light . I do not doubt , though present time conceale it , Time will e're long grow angry , and reveale it . Iustice divine , with Iustice here below , Will find such out , and make all murth'rers know Their hainous fact : muse leave them till that time , This object now may satisfie my Rime . ) This infant by a woman first was found Rowl'd up together : lying on the ground , Put in a bag , being black ; 't was thought therefore The mother of it was a black-bag whore . 'T was clad in mourning , and that made the shrowd 'T was buried in ; ( yet other was allow'd ) The neck was broke , and twisted round about , And wring'd so hard , that streames of blood ran out Vpon the corps : the neck was black and blue , The face was pale , the corps of sable hue : The blood halfe water ( which might raise up feares ) As though the infant mingled it with teares . One of the jawes was broke : or else in crying It might have peacht the murther when 't was dying , Or mov'd some pitie ; but 't is always knowne , They 're worse than beasts who do destroy their owne . Poore harmlesse infant ! there 's no reason why Thou being borne , that guiltlesse thou should'st dye . Yet be content , death ended hath thy strife , Thou might'st have liv'd in miserie : thy life Have kinred claim'd with a continuall death : Thou to thy Maker hast resign'd thy breath , And in a moment thou thy race didst run , Thy life did end so soone as 't was begun . Thou art redeem'd now out of all distresse , But yet the murther that is ne're the lesse . Although thine eyes were clos'd with envious night , Thou shalt behold the everlasting light . Thy tender limbs shall to perfection grow In glory : but we mortals know not how . Thy soule that God infus'd , shal now appeare Before him , and be fill'd with comfort there . Yet I must weep ! oh ! cal my partners hither , 'T is fit the Iury-men should weep together For this vile murther ! 't is a dreadfull sin ! He shall be fore-man that will first begin : In broken language let it be exprest , For Interjections now are counted best . Let every one here answer to his name , And keep Decorum ; spredding out the shame Of this foule deed , and make the aire to speak , And cause the bowels of the earth to break ; Or bring the murtheresse out : oh ! make it tremble ! For it is solid , and cannot dissemble . And let that house where now she draws her breath , Sink downe , or spew her out , 'pon paine of death . Or let her conscience sting , make all appeare , Or dreaming cry , The murtheresse is here : Or else the stones , when she doth passe along , First make her slip , and after finde a tongue To make her knowne . Let Constables not spare To use their power : let it be their case To search suspected houses , round about , And for this purpose send the Beadles out . There are such nests of night-birds in all places , That are to be examin'd in such cases . Oh , that they were remov'd , more Bridewels made ; That all might there beat hemp , and drive a trade ! And if by any meanes you chance to finde her , Bring her to Newgate , let the Iaylor binde her : And at the Sessions have her sentence ; then Go visit Tyburne : now 't is new agen . Come , answer here , O! murtheresse , where art ? Thou art not quit ; for first , or last , the smart Will have thee outlaw'd , and arrest thy life , No baile shall free thee ; then begins thy strife . Was 't not a fault thou didst commit before , When thou to serve thy lust did'st turne a whore ? ( A foule offence ! ) and prostitute thy selfe Vnto a villaine , or a roguish else ? But to a sin so bad , thou add'st a worse , To wrap thy selfe fast in a helplesse curse . A work of darknesse ! thus , thus to destroy Thy fruit ? thy selfe too thou hast cast away . Where was the voyce of Nature ? none call to it ? If any call , she never lets them do it . Or where was conscience ? that she did not strive To tye thy hands , and save thy babe alive ? Hadst thou no thought of God ? was he not there ? Did not his judgements strike thy heart with feare ? Nor what Christ did , or suffer'd ? nor the story Of mans mortality ? nor heavens glory ? Nor of thy death ? nor yet of hell below ? Didst thou forget , or didst thou never know Thou hadst a soule , that living lives for ever ? If 't dyes in sin , it is redeemed never . Hadst thou no friend to speake a word in season ? And then to tell thee , 't was against all reason To kill the infant ? thou hadst no pretence For this curst fact : it was against all sense ! Thy Councellor , alas ! it was the Devill , He did command , nay , urg'd thee to this evill . Didst think to hide thy shame ? that thought was vain : Thou lay'st it open , and thy inward paine Gives strength unto it : still thy hatefull sore Breaks out with shame , the Sessions bring thee more : But at the Gallowes shame will then be double : Conceited freedome brings thee into trouble . Before , th' Apparator might bring thee in To pay , or else do penance for thy sin ; Thy life was not in danger . Now 't is true , The Hangman he will charge thee . So adieu . At first , Citations might have serv'd to charge thee , Pay and away ; but who can now enlarge thee ? They 'd not set thee on horse-back : being tri'd , Now all thy priviledge is , thou shalt ride . There will be much ado to bring thee to 't ; When all is done , th' hadst better go a foot . When thou art gone , thy shame shall tarry still , My tell-tale Muse will everblaze thy ill . All beasts are loving ever to their young , They 'll feed , preserve , and rescue them from wrong : Nay , they will feed their young , how e're they fare : Nature pleads for 't : 't is strange beasts have such care : The birds do labour , up and downe they fly , To gather food against their young ones cry : And are so tender of them , one will stay To look to home , when th' other is away . Nay , some so loving , that they 'll spend their blood . And lose their lives to do their young ones good . But thou art curst ; the murther speaks no lesse , A hellish policie thou didst expresse . The Beare grows angry when she wants a whelp , Thou ' story'dst thy infant when it had no help . The birds do shame thee , they their young ones feed , Thou murther'st thine , thou art a Fowle indeed ! Thou art afraid of whisp'ring ; and thy life Is but like death ; call death to end thy strife . Thy cursed practice which the Devill taught thee , Is like a witch , for to a strait't hath brought thcc . Vnlike to all thou art , but him in sinning , Who was a murtherer from the beginning , I 'le leave thee now , and end my mournfull tones ; Time cals thee in ; for now the Gallows grones . The Epitaph . You passers by , take notice of these stones Behaviour towards an infant cast away ; They 'll overlook this parcell of small bones , And keep them safe untill the Judgement day . Peace , she is dead : but if you aske me , why ? She was begot , conceiv'd , and borne to dye .

SECT. 8. Of two brave Blades , that would hire a whore betwixt them by the yeare . TWo roaring blades being on a time in drink , ( I censure not , judge you : did they no ; stink ? Fierce time did blush , when it had heard & seen them ) They parl'd about keeping a whore betweene them . I know a wench , Tom said unto the other , ( 'Faith ; Nick , I love thee , sworne I am thy brother ) That 's very handsome , had she but apparrell ; Let 's take her home , for we shall never quarrell ; Allow her meanes , and use her both alike , For she is loving , and I know she 'll strike . She 's well proportion'd , and she 's very young , And middle siz'd , grac'd with a pleasing tongue : She 'll be content with thirty pounds a yeere ; We 'll save one halfe from wine , strong ale and beere ; Nick , speake the word ; what , shall we both go to her ? Or beare thy share , and I will go and wooe her . Nick paus'd a while , his breath so strong did smell , As if 't came from the upper part of hell ; Or else to say , to lessen this his fault , It came as from the bottom of a vault : Being rais'd , at last , he belched out the smoke , Then drank his cup , and thus his minde he broke : I like the motion , if she be so neat , Shee 'll be for us a dish of daintie meat . Wee 'll take her over , for such ware is deare With us ; or dangerous , though they 're plentie here ; I 'le pay one halfe , but yet I 'le see her first ; At any time shee 'll serve to quench our thirst . But yet I feare shee 'll trade with other men , Which if she doth , wee 'll turne her home agen . Tom. Tush , never feare , wee 'll order so the case To mew her up , she shall not shew her face At any time ; for only thee and I Will keep her close , that none shall her espy : Wee 'll take a roome in private , do not doubt , Though one should seeke , he shall not finde her out ; Her habit shall be plaine , her face still mask'd Shee 'll constant be , though she be often ask'd : If she do prove to be a fickle lasse , Wee 'll strip her bare , and turne her out to grasse . Farewell till night , I 'le drink but this carouse , Then go and revell in some bawdy house . A speech of one in the company . You make me blush to heare your consultation ! What ? are you shamelesse ? is not condemnation Appointed still to wait upon your sin ? Or d'yce forget your soules , that you begin Your hell on earth ? what , do you not regard God , nor your selves ? what , is there no reward For honesty ? or is your shape , your stature , And dispositions bent to ruine nature ? Nick. Pish , hold your clack : Are you in earnest ? or do you speak in jest ? 'T is bad enough , is I should think the best . Pray let me speake , for reason's on my side , My eares do tingle , nor can I abide To heare your lavish casting out your shame ; I will not flatter , least : beare the blame Equall with you : remember Death will straine Vpon your spirits . Where will be your gaine ? Or pleasure , when you are return'd to dust ? Then gastly crawlers feed upon you must . Yet sin will live , when you are in your graves , And prove a foe : sell not your selves for slaves . Tom. Go prating asse ! Nick , drink to me in beere ; This foole do's preach a chamber-lecture here ! The colt does play , while bayard eates the chaffe , The sow that 's silent , cares up all the draffe . Hang him , he 's worse , if time and place would fit , He 'd hugg a wench , and all that have but wit Would do as much . Would he were hang'd for me That would not do 't : but we shall scape all three . We must take pleasure , we shall nere be yonger , We 'l leave it then , when we can ha't no longer . Reply . I see'ts in vain to speak , you both want reason ; You 're led by sense like beasts , and practice treason Against your soules , let senslesse creatures teach you , Know , heaven's angry ; vengeance , that can reach you . The clouds consult to bring a storme of weather , The thunderbolts come now in troops together , Charg'd full of fury : if you will not yeeld , You 'l have no quarter in that bloody field . See how the streamers in the ayre are spred , Some blew , some white , and some like blood are red , Threatning destruction ; some of sable hue , They seeme to mourne for men turn'd beasts like you . The ayre is so corrupted with your breath , It spits-out threatning , and it sends out death . Look how the river doth both swell and rage , Chiding your folly : it would cleere the stage Of such vile actors ; but'tis bended so , Although it murmurs , out it cannot goe . It hath done justice on the like before ; Fire next must purge , water can purge no more : These trees look thin , the leates fall off with feare , Those that abide hang trembling quaking there , The dust do's creep together , and combind To turne to vermine , or to make you blind : The stones have all consented with the dust , And wait to be reveng'd upon your lust ; Th' house cannot keep you , speak I what I think , Your hell-borne language , that will make it sink . All things are snares which for you lye in wait , To take you napping , or'tis my conceit . The feather'd watchmen flying swift about Do cry for wrath against your comming out : Se'ing in your vilenesse to exceed you strive , The earth doth gape , to swallow you alive . Then I perceiving dangers were so nigh , There left those varlets , and away went I.

SECT. 9. A fruitlesse dehortation of a friend , to one that was undone by a whore . A carelesse gallant , having quite undone Himselfe , his wife , and morgag'd from his sonne His house , and lands , did meet upon a day A faithfull friend , who thus to him did say , You keep a whore , unto your great disgrace , Who hath or will undo you , and your race Have cause to curse you : leave these whores who have For all your cost , provided you a grave . ( You call her sister ) can a whore love any , But for their gold ? and so she may love many . Leave her betime , or in the Dooms-day book You 'l finde your name of all the world forsook . This speaking for the present seem'd to change His minde clean from this whore ; 't is very strange , He needs must see her face , and he are her tongue , Then he repents he staid from her so long . He makes a new agreement with this whore , And is engaged stronger than before . To please her mind , with fury he will stammer , Raile at his friend that would diswade him from her . The evill spirit takes on him more hold ; Nor will he trust him , though he 's weake and old . Oh! pitty him that for a vaine delight , Hazards his soule to everlasting night !

SECT. 10. A fight betwixt two Pimps . A Pimp went strutting ( fearing not a fray ) Being very brave : ( for 't was a gawdy day ) Another met him , who did much disgrace him : For he was vext ; 't was he that did displace him . Sharp words by grosse past , those that then did heare them , Did say'twas strange , that flesh & blood could bear them . But gawdy Pimp being urg'd , his sword was drawn , But being rusty , newly come from pawn , He could not use it ; and his hand did shake , His heart for feare made all his body quake . The other got the scabert ; being tough Struck solid blows : poore Whiskin had enough . Perhaps his blade was short , or very weake , Or else being brittle , was affraid 't would break : Or else being borrow'd , would not put him to 't ; Or else he promis'd that he would not do 't : Or otherwise I must conclude from hence , The hilt was open , ill for his defence . Or being cautious ( so 't was very good ) He was affraid to spill a subjects blood . But by and by , he spy'd his pistoll-gun , Then he grew valiant , quickly made him run . But how I pray ? I 'de tell you but for laughter , He ran away ; the other he ran after . As was his raiment worth more than his lands , So were his heels preferr'd before his hands .

SECT. 11. A heape of Vassalls pleading for precedencis , and priority one against the other . Crue assembled ( where I know not well ) ( They came as from , or travelling towards hell ) Who should be first and chiefe of all the rout , Was then the point , they did contend about . Whore . The whore speaks first , her argument doth tend To prove her calling lawfull ; and the end Will make it good : 't is honest downright dealing To use my taile , to keep my hands from stealing . I trade in love , the price I never make ; What men doe give , that I may freely take . I do maintaine you all , your sweetned gaines Sprung from the blood which runs along my veines : What custome ere comes in , is brought by me ; Why should not I be first , and chieflly free Of this assembly ? crums to feed a mouse Would not be found , nor brooms to sweep the house , Were 't not for me : pray give me then my due , Speak what you think , what ere I say is true . Pimp . Be not so confident : although my place Be to attend : 't is that sets a grace Vpon you all . I walk along the street So spruce , and boldly , powder'd very sweet , Cocking my beaver , looking bigg withall , The gallants that I meet give me the wall . When any come I give 'em such content , ( That they are won ) with some fine complement . My comely presence brings in many a guest , Besides acquaintance , who above the rest Are beneficiall ; this is no mistake ; What ere they spond ' is chiefly for my sake . Why should not I then be preferr'd as chiefe , Se'ing by my meanes comes in the most reliefe ? Pan. Thou prating coxcombe ! what dost think that I Am underling to thee ? we 'l quickly try Which is most usefull ; I am put in trust With all their secrets : reason saith I must Be overseer still , I keep the dore , And let them in , and out , and which is more , I sute the wenches to their owne complexions , If I but speak , they all take my directions . My wit dos often gaine a double fee , I stay at home , to make an asse of thee . I 'm not so fine in deed , but more I thrive , Where thou dost get a testar , I get five . The custome soone would faile , if I go hence , Why should not I have the preheminence ? Bawd . Ha , ha , ha , ha , ha , ha , ha . I laugh to heare these fooles ; they dominere ; Alas ! they know their gaines , and being here Depends upon my love ; they make their boast Of this , and that ; 't is I that rules the rost . The house is mine , the furniture I bought ; But yet I see much like a thing of nought They value me ; they might have beg'd ere this ; I took them in , least they should doe amisse . Although the whore be handsome , she had never Been thus preferr'd , had I not us'd endeavour To clothe and set her out , nor had she been But like a novice in this veniall sin . The Pimp was very poore , till I did raise him , And for his comely parts , 'las , who did praise him Till I had trim'd him ? now he 's grow ne so proud , He 'd faine be master ; but he 's not allow'd . Priority , the pander is as bad : He would usurpe the place he never had ; He has the vailes belonging to his place , Which puffes him up , I see his ends are base ; He 'd set himselfe aloft ; and then he 'd raigne , Much like a Demi-god , and all my traine Must follow his advise ; but soft and faire : His words being spoke were soone dissolv'd to ayre . I spent my time to learne ( when I was yong ) This way of living ; having us'd it long . Age made me weak , and then I entertain'd Those that did love that way , and still I gain'd Experience in 't : you cannot but agree That I am chiefe : yo' are servants all to me . Prodigall . Here 's much adoe , and yet but little wit . Amongst you all ; I can no longer sit , To heare your simple prating : I am he That every one of you would seeme to be . Words only make a sound ; but 't is my gold That claimes priority , and takes fast hold Vpon the chiefest place ; yo'uld quickly make Your wants break forth , should I the house forsake . I pay the whore , and give the Pimp his fee ; I give the pander coyne , the bawd may see Her comings in , comes only from my hand ; You have nor money , house , nor food , nor land To succour you ; nor any way to thrive , But with my purse ; I keep you all alive : I send in meat , and divers sorts of wine , I sold my lands for you : this cost of mine , Ioyn'd with my love , the highest place may crave , It is my right , and all I 'm like to have . Be wise , and silent , put me still before , Your hopes depend on me ; I 'le say no more . Thiefe . Ho , ho , ho , ho , ho , ho , ho. Me thinks I see , as once at Sutors-hill A silly gull ; who having had his will To break o're hedges ; being took at last , I robb'd him of his gold , and bound him fast . Although he made his moane , away went I To free my selfe , but there I let him lye . This brainlesse asse , that now relates a story Of what he has , and seemes to raise his glory From what he has beslow'd upon a whore , ( The bawdy-house doth gaine , but he 's made poore ) When all is spent , he hath no other way To help himself , and yet ( forsooth ) he 'll say Precedency is his : he do's beguile Himselfe with hopes : I cannot choose but smile . The day , the place are mine ; and he shall finde That I must go before , he come behinde . When I am out of cash , I scorn to borrow , I have a trick to banish all my sorrow : One happy night may blow me into stock , Or with a Pistoll , or a stab , or knock , I gaine a weighty Purse : or , if that misse , I have another way as good as this : I 'le cheat , and steale , and rob a house by night ; And having got my prey , I take my flight . I have a share from all that rob about , Iway-lay some , and others finde them out . This foole that sold his land , will nere beleeve How much I got upon one Christmas eve At Hide-parke-corner , or at Bagshot Downes Another time , among the countrey-clownes . I cannot want , unlesse that crooked tree Dos choake my hopes , and prove a foe to me . What can the whore , the pander , pimpe , or bawd Do of themselves ? or he that does applaud His crazie humour ? onely in the spring He 'll chirp about , and like a Cuckow sing ' ; But moult away in winter : when my time And fortunes usher me into my prime . I must relieve them all : Iudge , who is best ? Shall I not be preferr'd above the rest ? The case is plaine ; those that have eares and fight , Will know I challenge nothing but my right . As for the pleaders , all their braines are weake : I am content to let the Vmpire speak .

SECT. 12. The Devil's Vmpire ; their causes ; the fearefull conclusion . THey plead for place in sin : they might as well Strive which shall have priority in hell . The Devil's Vmpire to decide the case . He comes in hellish-state to take his place ; And by degrees he strives to bring 'em in As fast unto their paines , as to their sin . Thus he begins : ho ! can you not agree ? I 'le make you friends if you 'll be rul'd by me : You 're all my servants ; why should you fall out ? Sith I am umpire to resolve this doubt , I 'll do with judgement : first , the whore 's my childe , Though yet she be not , she may be as vilde As mistris Bawd : I love to keepe her fine , For I doe use her , as a hooke and line To catch Iack-simple : let her stay her time , And she will be as perfect in her crime As any of the rest ; in act , and tongue : Alas ! you must consider she 's but young ! My pretty pimping Boy ! be of good cheere , Thou com'st as bravely on as any here , Being but lately enter'd : this I finde Thy will is good ; that do's content my minde . Observe , and gaine experience from the rest , There 's none too wise to learne ; thou maist be best : Cheare up , go bravely on , and thou shalt have The chiefest place , and what else thou wilt crave . Ho! come my little Pander , thou art he To whom I do commit much secrecie : I ever found thee faithfull in thy place ; Thy minde is bent to honour , praise , and grace My kingdome here below : the place is thine ; But make no wordson't , for the gift is mine . Go on my bully , as thou hast begun ; I le pay thee bravely , when thy worke is done . Come , come , my old acquaintance ! gentle Bawd ! Thy constant service I must needs applaud : The Queene of hell salutes thee ; Dost thou smile ? To think thou hast bin absent all this while ? Thou hast my love ; I 'le keep thee at my cost . Now take my hand , I think there 's no love lost : Thou serv'd it me young ; when that way did not hold , Thou did'st me better service being old : In harboring those that have a minde to play Their lands , their time , their soules and all away . I put much trust in thee , and thou art true Still to my kingdome ; honour is thy due , Preheminence is thine : come downe to me , Thou dost not know how welcome thou shalt be ! But hinder not thy bus'nesse : let me know A day or two before ! but we below Are ne're unfurnish'd ; we can entertaine ( In hellish pompe ) thy selfe , and all thy traine . Thy house is like to mine , but that 't is lesse , Lightet and cooler too ; but thou maist guesse , How well our guests doe sute : untill thy tombe Doth close thee up , take thou the chiefest roome . My Spark of velvet ! I 'me glad to heare and see , That thou reposest confidence in mee ! Thy will I do accept , thou spend'st thy store To honor sin : what can a man do more ? Thou shalt not want , thou need'st not to repent , I have more ways ( when all thy store is spent ) To raise thee up : I make no doubt ere long , Thou wilt be fit to grapple in the throng , For this high place of honor : then I will Praise thy endevors , and applaud thy skill . Persist , sweet Honey-chops ! lay 't on , and spare not : Some few may envie us : what 's that ? we care not . What , what , my bonny Hackster ! thou com'st last ? Thou art my son , this title was not past In vaine upon thee : thou didst never give Occasion of disgrace : but how to live In honor , reputation , 't was thy care To be a man of dread , of courage rare . Thou do'st affright the world ; such is thy state , They value thee not at a common rate . Th' art free to all my friends ; I 'le say to thee , Thou steal'st from them , who faine would steale from mee . Nor art thou cowardly , but bold , and brave In all thine acts : if some penurious slave Fals but into thy clutches , thou wilt make Him leave his bags , or thou his life wilt take . Thou be ar'st my image ; I have robb'd the world , Although I was into a prison hurl'd , I venture still . What 's murther , but a crime Which I have made almost as old as time ? Spend upon whores , and drink what thou do'st get , Feare not the crooked tree ; why should'st thou set A doubt before thee ? try if thou canst win Thine Host , to make a bawdy house of 's Inn : That will promote thy Art . For ought I see , Prioritie of place belongs to thee . Continue in thy course , and let me heare Thy valor speake : I 'le help thee , never feare , It grieves me thus to part ; but you all know , My greatest bus'nesse lyes in hell below . But , at their parting , think how pale the ground Did look upon those mortals ! what a sound Did eccho in the aire ! the blushing skie Did hide it selfe with clouds ! the Heav'ns great eye Was blood-shot , dark , and dim ; he had resign'd His office up ; but that he was confin'd Within his bounds . The Heavens dropt downe teares , The orbs grew angry , and the earth with feares Was overcharg'd ; the smoother streames did glide More hastily , to turne against the tide : The plants did shake , all loosing of their hold : Only the barren Bramble grew more bold . The beasts , depriv'd of sence , do gently stand ; Their happiest timelyes in the Butchers hand . The fowles of heaven , that did sing before , Are now growne silent , they can sing no more . Poore tired spirits ! can no comfort have , They 'd faine exchange with death to get a grave . They dye alive ; but being much distrest , One amongst many thus his minde exprest . What 's all this rumor , but an emptie bubble Dropt from the skirts of hell ? the shame will double Vpon them shortly ! all the hatefull rout That plead for sinfull praise , shall fly about , Tost with a blast from hell : then they will see Sin ; paine and shame will have precedencie ! This Vmpire , that would seeme to please 'em all , Will bring them in , and leave them in such thrall , That time can ne're release ; when they shall dwell With him that hath the greatest place in hell . The Caniball when he a stranger saw , ‛ He strangely entertain'd him in his maw : But this man-eating Devill draws them to 't , He 'll burne their flesh , and broyle their soules to boot . All things will quiet be , when sp'rites are laid , The clouds dissolve ; the Heavens that are staid , Will move in order ; and the earth will spring , The plants recover strength , the birds will sing , Poore soules that dwell on earth will then rejoyce , That made the best , though not the sudden'st choyce . The bawd , the thiefe , with all that did attend them , Must have their doom : nor time , nor means could mend them . How is this world deceiv'd ! how do's it wooe Hels breath'd delights ! alas ! what do's it doe To stifle nature ! put the rules of reason Quite out of joynt ! oh ! this fatall treason ! The storme is past , which was a type of death , Rest now my Muse , for thou art out of breath .

SECT. 13. Of an Irish Foot-mans entertainment in a bawdy house ; and what miserie followed . AN Irish Teige , once walking late at night , Did cast his eye upon a loathsome spright , But cover'd o're with flesh ; that painted too : Her tongue being oyl'd , she thus poore Teige did wooe . Pray , Sir , come in , a friend that loves you here Would see your face , and drink a cup of beere , To talk , and laugh ; such time is sweetly spent , That ' grees with mirth ; you shall have good content . He hearing this , stopt ; and his thoughts began To rove , not thinking who should be the man ; He thus reply'd at last : Mastris , me tank yo sor yor love an care , What man is him tat sands for me ? I dare Ga in Sine Patricks name , and sew mee vace , It shon't be zed tat Irish mons be base : ‛ Shave argee , sait , I hill drink some ale , wone , beere : Vll see te mon , drank an be jocund here : Che sarve an Anglish Gantelmon , tat have Gan mee some skillings , made me feine an brave . But coming in , there 's no man to be found , But woman-kinde great store : Teiges braines being drown'd , Was fit for any company : he did Reveale his shame , which nature always hid . The Bawd perceiving that an easie bait Would take this Flounder ; then she askt him strait , What wench he 'd please to have ; one young , or old , A couiser , or a siner ; they are sold As they are high , low , young , faire , richly tir'd ; Or else as coyne's brought in ; so are they hir'd . Now Teige thus answers ; Me ha won hueg meend To tat foine Duck as hoydes her vace beheend , Pre mastris let me ha hur , an I shall Gee hur some argee , an my zelf an all . It is agreed that Nancie must receive him , Into her chamber ; how they did deceive him , Time will discover : ) there a while they staid , But how they dallied , how they sinn'd , and plaid , Iudge by the sequell : having vainly spent The time allotted for their merriment ; Teige searcht his pocket ; he was freely willing , To gratifie her love with halfe a shilling . But comming downe , the Bawd enquiry made , How he was pleas'd ? what match was drove ? what trade ? What he had gin her ? further asking when , He did intend to visit her agen ? He told the Bawd how they their time did passe , How they agreed , how bountifull he was , To give her six-pence . Then the Bawd call'd out , Why Nancie , Nancie , come , resolve the doubt , What this man had ? what thou hadst of this man ? Then Nancie cry'd , anan ( forsooth , anan . ) What had this man I aske ? forsooth I gave Him his desire , he did but aske and have : Embraces by the grosse , a curious song , A large Coranto ; kisses mixt among ; We did in all things very well agree But this ; I had but six-pence for my fee. How wench ! but six-pence ? who shall pay the rest ? I thought h 'had been an open-handed guest : Coranto's are not sold at such a rate , Nor will I lose my money , though 't be late . Give me five shillings ( truly , Sir , 't is true ) I cannot 'bate a penny of my due . An Angell is indeed my usuall price , Where once a Crowne , I have an Angell twice . Then Teige dives downe into his slops , there found But just so much that freed him : turning round , Away ran he most nimbly ; for his cash , Was for his learning , chopt away for trash . He was asham'd to come in 's Masters sight , His heart being heavie , and his purse so light . But shortly after he began to finde Some swellings , where ghesse you : and then his mind , Being charg'd with griefe , complain'd , & thus he said : Hooe I be pain'd ? me trot me be afraid I chee be spoyl d : mine belly all is sure , Mine fait and trotla , Nancie was an whore ; Mine pictures all bin spended ; none dere be Woll bring a Churgion , and gee him a see ; ‛ Cheed pa 'em well agin , when chee con run ; But now chee con't go wee l : chee be undon : Unlesse some course been takin ! oh tat cheat ! Me mo●● is sore , chee cannot yeat mine meat . If some tat lov'd Sine Patrick ded ma nowe , Dey'd gee mee argees , dey wod vavor sew , An heilp me in dis case ; de Churgin pa , Chee shoold be wele agin Sine Patricks da. Eles chee shall leese mine Master , and be veine To starve , or beg , or eles go whome ageine . Dei'le take te whore as did entice me in ! Rope take te Bawd , as did wee me begin To make da match ! shame take Nancie , vor shee ( Chee be afeard ) ha gin te pock ta mee ! A purse is made ; a Surgeon now is brought , He findes the truth ; and yet the matter 's naught ; The griefe 's laid open ; and the Surg'on's faine To lance , and stew poore Tiege . Oh! then the paine Forc'd brinish teares ! as he distracted stands , My Muse now leaves him in the Surg'ons hands .

SECT. 14. Arabble of Cheaters in a two fold plot discovered . A Pack of cheating villaines , went to drink , And spent a night ; & with that spent their chink , And when the night was gone , still they were stained With deeds of darknesse : as they all remain'd Together in a knot , being hungry , they Did cast a plot , how they might take a prey . As they did thus consult , a Maid past by , And one among the rest did east an eye Vpon her ; and perceiving on her head Raw flesh good store , although the had no bread . This Cheater cheapens , soo●e the bargain 's made : And now to shew he 's master of his trade , The Maid must carry it home ; and as they went He found a trick to finish his intent . A Gentleman being walking neere that place , He goes to him , salutes him with such grace , ( And made ) as if he knew him ; and to hide His plot , he askt for one who did abide Neere to that place : he judging by his coate He was some Pimpe , or else a sherke of note , Slighted his words : then coming to the Maid , Where she had for him with her burthen staid , Told her that was his Master ; she must go To him for pay , his worship told him so . He 'd trouble her no more , he 'd take the paines To carry it home : this project of his braines Deceiv'd the silly girle : h' has tooke away The Pigeons , and the Pullets : for her pay . She goes unto the Gentleman , but the Ow'd her no money ; she did plainly see , How she was cheated : then halfe wilde , halfe mad Home she return'd ; 't was all the helpe she had . Now they have got this meate , if they can thinke How't shall be drest , and compasse bread and drinke With such another trick ; then they will roare , And to increase their mirth they 'le have a whore . 'T is brought into a Taverne , there 't is drest ; They eat most sreely , swearing 't is the best That ever men did eat ! nor can they dine Without great store , and divers sorts of wine . They spent their time in drinking healths about ; Sol lights them in , the Moone must light them out : They call for pottles , where 's this rogue so long ? But all their purses are not sixpence strong . But when black night had in his shady throne Triumph'd a while , they in their canting tone Exprest their mindes : and being all amort They plotted to begane , which spoil'd their sport . One project fail'd , the second was as vaine : Then speaks a third , who had a subtile braine : You are simple guls ! one plot is good enough To free us all ; we 'll play at blindmans-buffe , The Drawer shall be one ; let 's make him drunk , Blind him , and slink away : then said the punk , There 's no way else to do 't ; come , this is it That quits the score : all prais'd him for his wit . They call a fresh for wine , before they part They meane to drinke , just every one a quart . The Drawer drinks his share ; they brought his minde , To make the number up at hoodman blinde . A sherke being hoodwinkt stood behinde the dore , He gropt about , at last he caught the whore ; She takes her turne ( but yet with much adoe ) And having rov'd at large , a bout or two , She was more nimble ; but of all that saw her She had the praise , when she had catcht the Drawer , He 's bound up close , because he knows the place , They doubled up the cloth about his face . If this plot faile , 't would put 'em all in feare , For 't is the last ; their jest , and hope lie here : He was but dull , when they had hid his sight , He mindes no bill , his head alone was light . He feeles about , but as this foole did play , In earnest , they slunk by degrees away . Below they bid 'em welcome , never said Call down the Drawer , see if all be paid . The Drawer having gropt so long about , Nor felt , nor heard a man ; began to doubt That he was catcht : he being unmask'd , there 's none That he can finde ; his play-fellowes are gone . With that his heart was much possest with feare , Nor dares he to go down , nor yet stay there . But how at last he gave his answer in , How he was pay'd , how 's fellowes did begin To jeare him with his play : how he was sham'd , ( For after this he blind-mans-buffe was nam'd : ) I will not make report , nor will I sweep The channels for those vermine that did creep Away so slily : let this pack of knaves Be hated living , scorned in their graves ; Let golden Phoebus with his piercing eye Disclose such vassals ! Luna still descry Their wayes by night ! let day and night consent To bring them to some open punishment ! Let age which is the Register of times , Record their shame ! let nothing blot those crimes But teares of sorrow ! oh ! let all beware From such examples ! who with hell would share ?

SECT. 15. Of an outlandish Nunncrie that was a brothel-house ; and how discoverd .

Henric. Bibellius monialis nobilis .

A Germane Nunnery was once erected , Onely for noble Ladies : being protected , By no lesse power than did sure with state : ( They were maintained at a lofty rate ) And to restraine desire , they mew'd'em in ; But afterwards it prov'd a house for sin . For growing up in years , their minds did run To break the thred which they in youth had spun . Young bloud is wanton , and it hath desire T' increase the flame , and mingle oyle with fire . Marry age they were deny'd ; that place must be A canker'd snare to their virginity . When freez-clad winter with his cloudie shade Had chill'd Apollo's beames , and did invade The Countries with his haile-shot , and did hide The earth with Mantles , the fleet swelling tide Had catcht a cold ; the brooks could no way passe , Because the streames were pickled up in glasse , All d. scords kept their turnes , the mourne full ayre Was over spread with clouds , and black dispaire . The heat that 's least alive , dos take it's hold In private corners ; yet the furious cold Dos haunt it still ; the birds are freest from harme ; For they have feather-beds to keep 'em warme . The beasts did feele the blast , and shrunk together , Their hides being tann'd alive : the blustring weather Keeps randevow ; proclaimes no other thing , But ( roaring ) cryes , that AEolus is King . Then every tree receiv'd a fara'l wound , And tender plants did languish in a swound . With his keene breath , be smooth'd the watry plaines , And made cleere passage for the lofty swaines . In this sharp season , brave yong lads ( whose ends Were to salute their sisters , and their friends ) Were met together ; and they did consent To spend a day or two in merriment , With these yong ladies : being welcome there , And entertain'd with mirth and royall cheere : The time with them grew warme , their Aprill yecres Brought on untimely May ; and cancel'd feares . For after supper ( having pleasing sport ) The Nunns with those that did to them resort Were dancing in the hall ; one ran about , And suddenly put all the candles out . Then every man laid hold upon a Nunne , Which with consent did into corners runne . But in this Night-prize , one among the rest , Applauds his fortune , he had catcht the best . But walking in the dark , o' th' sudden mist her , And when she spoke , he knew it was his sister . Then he cry'd out , ho ! some one change with me ; I 've light upon my sister , she will be For any but my selfe . Sin all they did ; But Fame was mov'd , and would not have it hid , A shamefull visit ! hatefull love is showne ! Sin , death , and helldo ever loath their owne . Societies of sin , mask'd with a show Of strict devotion , next to hell we know , Do take their ranks ; for barren showes are curst , A'nd hypocrites are of all people worst . How hatefull's that profession , that restraines Virgins from marriage ! when their swelling veines Breake into law lesse lusts , their acts are vilde ; The father 's robb'd thus of his hopefull childe . And Priories , when they receiv'd their rent , Engag'd the yeoman ( else they 'd have 'em shent ) To bring a virgin faire , and in her prime , That they might keepe her untill such a time , ( Then turne her out with shame ) this they thought good , 'T was not for lust , ' was but to purge their blood . They are the bane of people where they dwell : They make such houses Nurseries for hell .

SECT. 16. Of a Letcher , and how the Devill assum'd the shape of a Malesactresse that had been hang'd ; and lay with him .

Dr. Stroza Cigognu , nobilis Vinetinus Theologus & Philosophus . Lib. de magia omnifaria , &c.

A Wanton man ( if I a man may call him ) Engag'd to lust ; shame did at last be fall him . In whoredome , drunkennesse he spent his time ; His lodging suted to his loathsome crime . But walking all alone along the street ( Being very dark ) he did a woman meet ; And heard her mutt'ring as she went along , Complaining of her husband ; and the wrong That she receiv'd : how she was much abus'd , Turn'd out of doores , and how her friends were us'd , This lustfull Ape , thinks he has got a prey , Pities her case , and thus to her did say : Faire mistresse , walk with me , and you shall have A lodging to your minde ; I only crave Your love for rent ; 't is cheape , although't be best , Accept this kindnesse ; you shall be my guest . Small courtship serv'd ; away with him she went , To what he did desire , she gave consent : And when he had beheld her in the light , Found her exceeding faire : oh ! how her sight Did ravish him ! both in a bed they lay , Where they did spend some time : but when the day Broke in upon them , all delights were past : ( He turn'd about ) for she had breath'd her last : Her corps lay by him , cold as any stone ; He felt her carkasse , but her life was gone . Then feare and shame possest his raving minde ; He call'd the Bawd , nor he , nor she can finde The cause of this her death , they 're much dismay'd ; Nor can they hide what sin hath now bewray'd . The neighbors heard it , and came running in , They knew her face ; she suffer'd for her sin The sentence of the Law ; death was her paine : But yet the Devill took her up againe To do more work : ( with policies to strive , ) Al hough she serv'd him all her time alive . But Succuba is gone , left sin and shame Vpon the score , to blast this villains name . She 's buried once againe ; she 'll rise no more To case the Devill , or to turne a whore . But now this Letcher findes his fact is knowne , His hope , his name , his credit 's overthrowne , How Gentlemen his company did shun , How every one that knew what he had done , Abhorr'd his sight : ( his friends as all amaz'd , With feare and shame , they strangely on him gaz'd . ) And how the guilt did call upon his crime , To make his name the by-word of the time ? Griefe seiz'd upon him ; shame did make him sad , His lust was tam'd , although his minde was mad . In this forlorne estate he liv'd a space , But dying still ; he striv'd to hide his face From all the world : the place where he doth dwell Doth paint out flames , and represent a hell . The flesh that feedshim doth commence a suit Against him too : eats like forbidden fruit . What 's blest , is curst to him ; he spies a fish , And thinks he has a Scorpion in his dish . H s drink doth change its nature ( by his fin ) 'T will not asswage his scalding heat within . He hates his gold , and envies his apparrell , And every day he strives to pick a quarrell With what he doth possesse ; 't will help to burne him , In his conceit ; nor can disswasions turne him . I' th' night he thinks his bed-fellow doth drive The Furies ; cry , Take him away alive . He 's to himselfe and all things else a slave , But suddenly he dropt downe to his grave . All cry'd that saw him lying on the brim , Let Incubus ne're enter into him ! His Epitaph . THis man did live like a lascivious Ape , Spending his strength in sensuall lust and pleasure ; The Devill did assume a fellowes shape To humour him ; and gives his lust full measure : The grave 's his bawd , the devill was his whore ; H' has now enough , that nere was cloyd before .

SECT. 17. Of a North-countrey mans meeting a trull : and how they were drunk together : his complaint . WIthin the Northern parts , near Neptun's plains , Where Thetis us'd to feed her frisking trains : Thin Boreas with his breath , did charme the flood , Envy'd the dwellers there , and cool'd their blood : The soile was barren too , the men grew poore , They wrought , and eat to live , but eat no more Than Nature crav'd : withall 't was not so ill , Some fill'd themselves , some did their purses fill . But one among them , having store of gold , Resolv'd to ride a journey from the cold ; And in the South , awhile he did abide , ( He had a feeling in the case beside ) And being there , his blood began to thaw , His lust arose , and sought against the law . He of his sinns did make himselfe a sword , And judg'd the law , to be an empty word . He meets a whore , she smil'd , to him she spoke ; Then he reply'd , and thus his mind he broke . Kaind lovin mastresse ! Feath aies be tak-en wee thee vary face , Gee mee thee hond , aies kee'st , o sick a grace Tha hast at eance ceame , let mee clap mine arme About thee middell ; thare is mickle charme Geine from theene eyes : in 't I con freelee ha Mine weell of thee , an minit ist a da. Benison leeght on thee ! Iles gee thee wine , Sa mack I love tha : ceame , troth thee beest mine . Away they went together , what they did 'Cause 't was a stranger , let that fault be hid . He having staid till midnight , with that punk , Then out they reel'd together , both being drunk , The watchmen found'em : but the cunning whore Gave them the slip ; another watch before Perceiv'd a running post , catcht her at last , Put her in Bridewell : there she 's bolted fast . And for the countrey-man , his braines being sped ; Would faine take up the chanell for his bed . Sometimes he slips , and then he takes a fall ; Then by and by , his head against the wall Receives a knock ; he 's with himselfe displeas'd , Although his stomack 's full , his purse is eas'd . His feet draws out Indentures , as he goes ; His body 's like a coarse , his eyes , his nose , Vnmans his face ; and all his parts are prest By Maligo ; now to proclaime him beast . His mouth lets in his shame , but le ts out reason , His heart agreed to bring about this treason . Sometimes he thought himselfe at home , but when He felt it warme , his minde did change agen . Then presently he thought , he with this whore Was drinking healths , as he had done before . He 'd knock the stones , as if he 'd raise'em up , And call the boy to bring a bigger cup. But coming to himselfe , his braines grew tame , His eyes being clearer then , to see his shame : Thus he began ; ( intreating them for pitie ) I is o stranger ; nat eance yen this Citie Befeare this time , nor never weell-agene , Vnlessen woemin be meare true to mene . I wea is me ! what mum I do to geine Me geud report ? trow yee , a pittisse steine Hau teane me neame ! in trot I is undone ! Prey let me gang , an I awey will run . Muck ill betide tha jade , for she hau gin Me sike a welcam , as I feele me sin Yeating mine sol ; O! weell a neare that I Did ken her face , or seene her pinker nie ! I wot neane harme whan Is t did gang to teake A leetell drank ; an whan Is t cood no speake ; Her run away ; whailst I is here beheend ; Whick way hur's gang'd , I ken not : hur's non frend : Shee stalne mine coyne ; mee selve dee teell now lee , Indead la , a deaft lasse , hur seem'd to bee . O weale a da ! ere sine I is from heame , I hau been feinding 〈◊〉 ta be a meame ! Gude firs dischardge ma ! Is t chee thang yo than : An woon non nere be cauten sike agan . They let him go ; if he should thaw thus long , He 'd rot away ; for whores and drink are strong , Being joyn'd together . Drunkennesse is found To hate the man ; but yet it loves the ground . It steales in at the mouth , to drowne the soule , Takes place of wit , and doth the brains controule . It breeds disease , consumption in the purse , Bladders the face , the nose ; and it doth nurse What e're is ill . The stomack over charg'd Doth belch out filth , his words are more enlarg'd , Regards nor time , nor place , but all may finde Him spewing up the secrets of his minde . It boyles a man to froth , ( oh ! hatefull crime ! ) Brings shame , paine , death , and all before the time . All that are men , abhor't ! has he the day That drinks downe men , to carry shame away ? For carrying drink , this beast the praise doth crave , 'T is only that the Brewers horse should have .

SECT. 18. Of strange policies in a new-found Bawd . MOngst many Bawds , yet one there was of late , That had her Imps of any size , or rate ; Her customers of all degrees and ranks Resorted thither ; plaid their hellish pranks . If she could meet with any that was young , And handsome too , and had a nimble tongue , She 'd play the Devill , trying all her skill , With promises to draw her to that will . Thus long she liv'd , through guile she many won To serve her ends , and so they were undone , But yet at last , she growing out of sorts , To feed the streame , and keep her Venus sports ; For both the Bridewels had of them a share ; She nor her pander then did never dare To owne them there ; the turning of the mills , And beating hemp was sore against their wills . But will they , nill they , they were forct unto it , Or take the lash , if they refuse to doe it : And shamelesse New-gate got another part , They could not budge , which vext her to the heart . There was no help , which makes her fret and chafe , Yet New-gate promis'd her , to keep them safe . The Hospitalls had some to try their cure , Which had the pox , and there they must endure Sharp tortures , broylings , now a change they find ; They broyl'd before , but in another kind : With medicines they search and pinch their gutts , 'T is cutting torment ! good enough for slutts . Then weather-beaten Tyburne claimes the rest , And now the hangman is become a guest , But cannot please them : so they quickly part ; He takes his leave , and leaves them on the cart . Their faults so bad , the hangman scorns to cloke them , His pills are slips , yet being tough doe choke them : Yet Gregory he 's executor ; all they have , Will only help'em to a high-way grave . Now in this strait , the bawd to raise her store , Doth try her witts , and findes one project more ; Goes to a carrier modestly attir'd , Enquires for servants , she would faine have hir'd Two at the least : there being none , then he Must bring her up some , promising a fee Of forty shillings ; sor each one bespoken ; 'T will set him up , or raise him being broken . A shrewd temptation ! so he seeks about , Mistrusting nothing ; when he finds some out , He brings them up , and has his money paid . She entertains them , thus they are betraid With flatt'ring words : and what they do desire , She 'l promise them ; and pay them larger hire Than they expect ; new sutes from top , to toe She freely gives them ; she will have it so . They shal be brave , poore girles ! they think it strange , And doe rejoyce at this their happy change , ( As they conceive ) not us'd to be so cloath'd , Their other garmentsare with them so loath'd , They will not owne them : then to lectures next , She brings them , and they must bring home the text , ( She seemes devout ) that there they may be view'd , And that she may the better them delude With shew of goodnesse : next , unto a play She will bring them ( for there the fowles of prey Do much resort ) they being often spy'd , The plot is laid , and now they must betry'd : If they will yeeld unto this cursed sin , And bring new custome ; then she do's begin To blesse her-selfe , that trading comes againe , She reapes the fruit of her forecasting braine . But if they will not , after twice , or thrice Attempted to 't ; then this her last device Dos take effect : she 'l threaten them , and say I 'le strip you bare , and turne you then away . What , was 't for nothing that I made you fine ? To keep you thus , 't is for no case of mine . Goe take your raggs ; those garments which I bought , Leave them ; I will not give them you for nought . Faine they would goe , and yet as faine abide , They love good names , yet will not leave their pride ; They would not have fine feathers thus to fall ; To put on rags , that grieves them most of all . They seeme to looke when they should put them off , As comming from the hill neere Padington . The subtile moths , conspired with the rot To take possession : being long forgot ; The ugly forme , considered with the sinell They could not like , nor did it savour well . Now being neate , they thinke they shall be priz'd ; Put on their trash , they shall be much despis'd . If they consent they shall enjoy the place , Or else they must go home with great disgrace : Sometimes again , they judge it no wayes fit ; Then blame themselves , having so little wit . In this distemper , then the Bawd steps in , And she will prove , this but a veniall sin ; Which brings in profit , pleasure , wealth , and case : I speak the truth , you may do what you please . First shewes of good , mixt with apparant evill Drawes them to yeeld ; and now they serve the devill . Alas poore soules ! their rising is their fall ! They onely breathe , but do not live at all . But yet ere long this Bawd is question'd for it , And former vilenesse : Neighbours do abhor it ; And Newgate doth imbrace her , as 't is meet : She has preferment , riding in the street Herselfe alone : Iudge , is not this great state ? ( But all such honour women still do hate . ) Her Coach had but two wheeles , one horse did draw it : Her Coachman was a Carman , people saw it . 'T was open round , regarding not the weather ; Nor was the top once over-laid with leather . The inside of it being never lin'd ; 't ad but one boot , and that was quite behinde : 'T was of long standing , and so full of holes , 'T was ever after forc'd to carry coales . Her footmen many , onely for that day , All volunteers , not one of them had pay . Both sides they run , in running , still they hollow'd : The Marshall rode before , the Beadles follow'd . She was saluted as she rode along With kettle Musique ; and the basons rung . Her fame was spread , and she was often crown'd With Carret-tops , and whatsoere the ground Did there afford : and 't was at such a time When Chamber-pots agreed to purge her crime . Her journey ended , all hermen discharg'd ; Her fine , her fees , before she be enlarg'd , Must all be paid : and then away she 's banish'd , Downe fals her trade , for all her imps are vanish'd . She 'd plant againe , though in another coast , But that disgrace and shame do haunt her ghost . She runs all bras ; Muse , be thou content To leave her helplesse in her banishment .

SECT. 19. Of a Hackney Hestis ; the trade she drove ; and how she ended . A Common Strumpet ( as I heard it told ) Being impudent ( for whores are ever bold ) She tempted many with her flatt'ring tongue ; And with her eyes to death were many stung . Sh 'ad all the ways that might be had to gaine Fresh customers : at last she did so staine The Towne she dweltin , that a course was taken To drive her thence ; she was of all forsaken : For she grew odious ; time had blaz'd her name , Her lewd light carriage still did speake her shame . She hangs out colours ; when her Imps came in , She fell againe unto her wonted sin . A publike house she keepes ; all men may be There entertain'd ; more common now is she Than high-way Truls ; though she be now remote , Vermin do smell , and then begin to dote Vpon fier painted face : she rules the rost , And every Iack's corivall to mine Host. He can digest it , though his horns do grow . ( A Tinker patch'd his face , and peec'd his brow . ) She wants nor money , pleasure , sport , nor ease , Thus trades a while , untill the foule disease Doth seize upon her ; then her tempting tongue Begins to faulter , and her breath 's so strong None can abide it ; and her wanton eye Bewrays her shame ; and both her jawes do cry , We are undone : for P : hath seiz'd upon us With violence , to take our teeth quite from us . Paine follows pleasure ! she can only crawle , She 's loath'd of many , but she 's shunn'd of all . Her rascall crew forsake her , having spi'd it , Alas , poore Host ! he only must abide it ! In this distresse she doth her selfe bemone , What shall I do ? my friends are from me gone ! And I am left to end my dayes in griefe ! No meanes I have to bring me in reliefe ! To serve my lust , how did I daily strive ? And for reward , now I must rot alive ! My shame is noysed everywhere about , I 'me like a monster ; boyes do hisse me our ! The Surgeon must be paid ; but where 's the coyne ? 'Las I am weary of this life of mine ! All that have reason , do abhor my sight ; Darknesse attends me ; for I loath'd the light ! Me thinks the beasts cry , as they daily feed , ( As I go by ) There goes a beast indeed ! The fowles all day do at my window call , And chatter curses , wishing for my fall . I cannot look towards Heav'n , but despaire , Nor but with horror wave the gentle aire : Nor without dread , once tread upon the ground , Or any way , but hell besets me round . In this mad fit , she does at last conclude , ( See how the Devill does poore Imps delude ! First to presume ; that acted , to despaire ; The storme is gathering , while the weather 's faire ) To end her life , and fall by her owne hand ; She has no power , Sathan to withstand . She 'd hang her selfe , but that she wants a place : ( But I dare say , that'tis for want of grace , That she attempts it ) For she has a halter , The beame's too high , and so her minde does alter . At last a beame she findes that 's very low , The halter 's laid , but where she does not know , So she 's dismist : but having place and rope Another time , O! now she is in hope To doe the deed : but being then prevented , Prolong'd her life : yet being discontented , She plots a fresh ; and findes another way , How she untroubled may herselfe destroy . A well was neare her , which was very deepe ; ( Though she was rotten ) she did crawle , or creepe Vnto this well ; and head-long threw her selfe ; Her life there ended ; so this noisome elfe Was taken up , as cold as any stone , She being breathlesse : for her soule was gone . Whether , God knows : I will not sentence passe ; I feare the worst : I shew you how it was . A dreadfull spectacle ! this horrid sight Fill'd the beholders with amazement , fright . Her clothes all being long ( not long in getting ) Are now too short , for they are shrunk i' th' wetting : Her countenance was black , her tongue hung out ; Her eyes wide open , but she 's blind , no doubt . Foole , why didst thou against thy life rebell ? Didst think to ease thy selfe ? didst think that hell Was but a fable ? griefe I doubt begins ! Selfe murther 's judg'd next to the worst of sinnes . Didst think that water would so coole thy sore , To case thy paine ? lust was asswag'd before . Did Sathan presse thee ? or didst thou appeare Proffring thy selfe to him , as volunteere ? Long in a journey didst thou scorne to dwell , That thou didst seek a neerer way to hell ? Or didst thou think , that by thy selfe alone , Thou 'dst have thy hel , or else thou wouldst have none ? Didst think thy shame , & pain would then have ended , Or else with hell-hounds think to be befriended ? Though like a beast thou liv'dst , thou didst undo Thy selfe ; for why ? thou canst not dye so too . Worse than a beast thou art , and hadst : lesse wit ; They' are taught by Nature to avoyd a pit . Thou heardst that hell was in a place below ; Didst goe to see , because thou didst not know That was a truth ? or whether it was deep ? Or what those vermine are , that there do creep ? The Well was deepe , but yet it had a ground ; And hatefull creepers were , where thou wast drownd . Poore foole ! alas ! didst not beleeve , nor feare In hell was fire , but no water there ? 'T is bottomlesse ; it had bin best for thee To have beleev'd it , not to go and see : But this I thinke , thou couldst not judge but hell Was very large ; or larger than the Well : Sure thou didst thinke , 't was but the way into it . Yet thou wast worse than mad when thou didst do it . These silly creepers that have here abode , The Frogs , the Lizard , or the loathsome Toade , Are not so odious : ( nor their shreeks , nor cries Like them in hell : ) nor of so large a size . We 'll hasten now to bring her to her grave : The Crowner cals a Iury ; found they have She onely guilty of this fact committed , And suffer'd for 't : yet she 's of no man pittied . They parle , and do condemne her ; for this cause A Crosse-way grave , according to the lawes , Is made for her ; and thither she is brought And tumbled in , just like a thing of naught . Being covered , a stake is driven in Quite through her Corps , to shew , her hainous sin . Her friends were sham'd ( if she had any left ) She through her vildenesse was of all bereft ) None durst be seene , all diu so much abhor her : For not one griev'd , no shew of mourning for her . All mouthes are open still , to blaze her shame , But eares disdaine to entertaine her name . The fowles do cry , and will not be at rest , For being disappointed of their feast . The wormes had had the best on 't when she sunke , But could not once come neere her 'cause she stunke . Muse leave her there still as a way-marke curse , And wish all better , but none ever worse . But where 's mine Host so long ? he 's gone astray , Or else to grasse , to cast his hornes away . But do's he not go rogueing up and downe , And leave his children now to charge the towne ? Or is he so in debt , that even the light Is hatefull to him , so plaies least in sight ? Or has he not some Iaylor to attend him ? Or has he not the pox that soon will end him ? I le send no hue and cry ; 't is not my taske : After this time I le never for him aske . Her Epitaph . HEre lies a whore that did exceed in evill ; She common was , and had the pox 't was known : She 'd more , and more acquaintance with the devill : At last she was by her own hand o'rethrown . Let passers by take notice of this stake , That they may fear , and warning by her take .

SECT. 20. Of a Childe borne full of the pox : with a Satyre playing his part upon the Father . A Female infant newly being come Into the world ; and living from the wombe ; Death soone did follow : while she liv'd , the fame Did every minute speak the fathers shame ; She as an Embleme and a type of death Did shew her selfe , when she received breath . She was inclosed with the fowle disease ; Though little time she liv'd , she had lesse ease , For why ? she had extremity of paine , Till she return'd unto the dust againe . Sh' was coffin'd up , with scurfe and no y some sores , Her father brought it from his rotten whores Vnto her mother ; so it was convey'd To her ; her mother had been else destroy'd : Yet both undone ; and yet this rascall vile Being often shent , he 'd jeare , and laugh , or smile , Her griefe was much increased , being poore , Most that he got , he spent upon some whore ; Or on the Surgeon , being often cur'd ; But no whit better ; what he then endur'd , Yo 'ld think might change his mind ; but he grew worse , Nor is he mov'd with Gods eternall curse . He runns in debt , and scores up what he may , 'T is known full well he doth not use to pay . I know he borrow'd much his lusts to fit , Some wisht him whipt ; he hath not paid them yet ; Nor never will ; which grieves them most of all : He 's out of credit now ; nor ever shall Grow more in debt , because no man will lend him ; Speak harsh , he 's mad ; or faire , it will not mend him . He must be dieted at th' fall and spring ; He 'l no strong drink , nor wine , and thus he 'l sing A month together ; while the Surgeon 's by , He 'l seeme to grieve ; being gone , then presently , He is the same ; no orders will he keep , But drink , and drab , while civill men doe sleep . If money last , he will not look tow'rds home , Had they but food , they 'd rather have his roome Than 's company : he 'l kick his wife about , And pawne his goods ; he has not much I doubt . In this distresse , if she doth seek reliefe , Amongst her friends , if they but ease her griefe , This monster 's wilde , spits venom , threats , he 'l say , See if they dare to keep his wife away : If that prevailes not , then he 'l sweare , and lye , He loves her so , that he for her shall dye , If she returnes not home . Thus will he seek , Till he attaines : she being milde and meek , Conceives the best ; he promising a change , Goes home againe ; beleeve it , 't is not strange , He 's chang'd indeed : but 't is from bad to worse ; She 's almost starv'd , yet he hath no remorse . Makes he much of her , as he promis'd ? no , He sells her clothes , then hang her , let her goe . He never goes to Church , but hates all such That would perswade him to 't , thinks all too much That any doe for heaven : calls them asses , Especially amongst his bawdy lasses . He 'l domineere , when they upon him sawne . I 'le judge the best , his clothes are all at pawne , Or else he 's loth to fright folk with his look , Or else because the Broker has his book : Or is he in some Celler under ground ? And drinking , till he thinks the world goes round ? He hangs on others , they must pay his score , He has no coyne , his hoste will trust no more . As for the woman , how to set her free , Alas ! I know not , except time agree To end her life : some Hospitall may take him To try their skill , and as a patterne make him . No other way can I conceive to do it , Vnlesse the Sessions do agree unto it ; That he may grieve his wife and friends no more , To have him hang'd , though he was burnt before : Of all , the hangman then would prove his friend , He 'd never leave him , till he saw his end . But after all his friendship , he 'd be mad , When once he finds his clothes are all so bad . Muse , leave this goat , for he defiles thy pen ; Ranck him with beasts , but never more with men . But this poore infant I have left too long , We 'd parle a little : couldst thou use thy tongue , Thou 'dst teach my pen , to write with blood or teares , Or make it silent ; and beget strange feares In those that heare thee , and as strange to see ; T'ould move a stone , to waile thy misery . Not like a child , thou like a monster rather ! Oh , blame not me ! but blame my wretched father ! But quit my mother , for she 's guiltlesse knowne , Her comfort here 's like mine , quite overthrowne . She was deceiv'd , my fathers flattring tongue Did so insnare her ( when she was but young ) Though 't was but non-sense , she could not perceive it ; What ere he spoke , she 'd willingly receive it : Her friends being simple , matcht her to her sorrow , To one daies mirth , which ended on the morrow . By love she try'd to draw , and turne his heart From ill , but he still plaid the devills part . In sorrow she conceiv'd , and brought forth me , An object of disdaine , that all may see , I am a wonder , for my fathers sake , A signe of great displeasure : warning take All you that see me , or doe heare my story , Amend your lives in time ; give God the glory . All filthy courses see you alwayes hate ; ‛ When Ruine knocks , Repentance comes too late , Then you must beare the evills that you doe , And your posterity will curse you too . They 'l suffer for your sins ; as you may see , My fathers sins , are now reveng'd on me . My suffring's here , for I shall finde redresse . And be redeem'd out of this deep distresse . God's just and righteous , as he still hath bin ; I shall not alwayes beare my fathers sin . My time is short , how soone my race is runne ! I must away , before I see the Sunne . I now salute the world , and bid adiew ; 'T is only vaine ; leave it ere long must you . I for your sakes was sent ; I had my breath To entertaine my friend . Come , gentle death . The Epitaph . HEre lies an Infant , while she liv'd in paine , Did ( in a kinde ) bewaile her fatall birth ! She was an Embleme of her fathers staine , Till she returned to her mother , Earth . The sight of her might quell all lust and pride . Her presence gave us marning ; so she dy'd .

SECT. 20. How a subtile Queane fained herselfe to be with childe by a man of qualitie ; of her lying in , and how the plot was found out . WAlking alone ; about the evening tide , I heard a voyce : turning about , I spi'd Two walking hand in hand ; and as they went , They whisp'red out their shame ; 't was their intent To sin in secret . First , the man did wooe , And soone the female gave consent unto What he desir'd : a place then they descri'd , Which they did think would all their folly hide . But what is hid from that all-seeing eye , That 's done in hell , or on the earth ? the skie Is fixed full of eyes to finde out sin , And every creature must give verdict in , Against the sinfull world : but all this while , Those witlesse Imps are striving to be guile Their soules of peace ; and having had their ends , They part for that time , ( seeming loving friends . ) But pointed when , and where to meet againe : He breaking promise ( for it seemes his braine Grew addle after this ) she sent to know Where all this time he did himselfe bestow , Desiring him to visit her ; for shee Must shew to him her haplesse miserie . He told his name , his place , that he was rich , Vnto this whore : and now her fingers itch To handle some of 's gold : she rubs her neyes , Hangs downe her head , and blubbers out , and cryes , She 's halfe undone ; her belly now doth swell , For she 's with child by him : she loves him well , And would not have him sham'd ; give her reliefe , She 'd free him on 't , and still conceale her griefe . Against her lying in , he must provide A nurse , and linnen ; divers things beside Which she must have ; then , had you heard him curse This whore , his fate , their meeting ( 'cause his purse Grew emptie by this meanes ) you would have thought The Devill spoke by him , what 's worse than nought . He tries with care , and cost , to hide his sin : For now the time is come , and she lyes in , So neat , and sine ; he goes to see her then , And to supply her wants ; and goes agen , And findes her weake : the child i' th' cradle by , The bawdy Nurse was rocking : presently She takes it up ; oh , here 's th' owne fathers child ; Your eyes , your nose , your picture is not spoyl'd In joyning up ; while this babe doth survive , He 'll keep your image , and your name alive : D' yee see your fore-head , eye-brows , double chin , Your little mouth ? just as your lips are thin , So are the child's : his fingers long and small ; He 's quiet too ; that sutes you best of all . This gives him no content , away he flings , And leaves his image ; but the Nurse she fings A Lullaby ; the woman that lyes in , Is rais'd with gold , to strike the merry pin . He meets a man whom he well knew before , Reveales the passages 'twixt him and 's whore : And how much goldsh'had had , and os the shame That he did feare would light upon his name . His friend ( if so you call him ) heard the case , Took his fit time , and went unto that place , Pretending shamefull mirth ; but she seem'd ill , And would not once submit unto his will ; Being subtill in her trade , she told him how The case did stand : he must not touch her now . Away goes he , acquaints a Magistrate , How such a man was made unfortunate , By dealing with a whore : he brings him to him , Who promis'd them much kindnesse he would do him , To set him free : unto the house they went , Where he had been , and had his money spent . They coming in , the Trull seem'd very weake ; The Nurse being rocking , she began to speake , But feare restrain'd her : for the man , they knew , Did use to give such birds of night their due . He taking up the child ( but he mistook ) Was quite agreed it had the fathers look ; I am perswaded in this heart of mine , Who ever sees this babe , may sweare'tis thine . With violence this child began to cry ; A woman chatg'd with fury , suddenly Rusht in upon 'em , What d' yee meane to doe ? Borrowing my child , pray do not murther't too ! I will not trust you ( Bawds and Whores are vilde ) You doe not care how you abuse my childe . By this the plot was found ; the Whore , the Nurse Devis'd a lying in to purge his purse . The Iade from her preferment had a fall , She 's sent-abroad , and yet not church'd at all . The Nurse must go before the month be out , To old Bridewell , to turne the mill about . ( Her gossipping is spoyl'd ) there she must stay , To try her strength a twelve-month and a day . The other Imp to new Bridewell is had , To knock the hemp : which work she counts as bad As Purgatorie : now she cheats no men : A sudden change ! there she lies in agen . As for the man , I 'd place him with this whore , But he has promis'd to do so no more . Thou little infant ! did they bring thee in To be a patron to a new-borne sin ? But I conceiv'd ( when I went further in ) It was to draw the tawnie from her skin : And make the wrinkles smooth , aud colour fresh Her corps decay'd ; which was like parboyl'd flesh . She 's pickel'd up ; her upper parts do show As clad in mourning : but she 's bare below . This sight compar'd with the unsavoury stench , The lust of any Incubus might quench . Gentilitie with this is all her pride , She envies nature , 'cause she hath deni'd Her comelinesse ; and now she strives to be A patterne of the worlds deformitie . Dame Nature knew her once ; but as she 's now , She scornes to owne her , nor will she allow Her any praise : sh' has brought a new fowle in Into the world ; and she 's as foule within . She lying thus in pickle , all the roome Did seeme to be allotted for her tombe : Me thought it had a savour of the slime ; An earthy show ! and stunk before its time . If 't had been thus , the worms being weak and blind , Had been constrain'd to enter her behind : Or else below ; but they would never rest , Till they had suck'd the plaisters from her brest . This sight would fright them , if they could but see 't ; ( To sute the rest ) had she but cloven feet , They durst not touch her : faine I 'de see her rise , Make a sack-posser , let her wash her neyes , And pull the parches off ; and rince her skin : Then let me see if any blood 's within ; Set her the glasse , that she may dresse her head , Aske whe're she 'll please to paint , or white , or red ; See how she sets her face , and how shee 'll change , Now shee 'll be modest , and extremely strange , Then shee 'll be merrie ; by and by shee 'll grieve , Then bridle up her head ; you 'll not believe , How she will turne her postures , and her shape ; When all is done , she 's but bare Natures Ape . This colour is too red , and that 's too white ; Or if it lyes too thick , 't will shame her quite . But being finely temper'd , then 't will do ; Now if her taile were seene , she 'd paint that too ; One lock of haire lyes wrong : she 'd crisp againe , But that will melt the colour from the graine . She 's ready for to day had she but pray'd , But now it is too late , the cloth is layd ; And guests are come to accommodate this sinner , With wanton jests and tales , whilst she 's at dinner . When dinner 's done , they 'll passe the time away In gaming , or with chat , untill the play Is ready to begin ; and there her coat , And painted face , do make her one of note . Shee 'll praise a love-sick fancie , but shee 'll vex , If any word , or act , doe touch her sex ; She 's powder'd sweetly , which may gaine delight ; But coming home , she stinks agen at night : Her face is spoyl'd : her dressings are laid by ; She 's coffin'd up agen . My Muse and I , With joynt consent , did then her absence crave : And left her as a restlesse living grave .

SECT. 22. How an old Bawd lay in for a young Whore : they are found and punished . A Private Bawd , that us'd to entertaine A subtile queane , or two ; finding the gaine , She did encrease her number : and did learne How every one might come to take her turne . She kept a hot-house ( which did bring her gold ) Vnder pretence ; but 't was too hot to hold . One of her creatures being prov'd with child , Having no husband ; ( sin had so beguil'd This simple slut ) and now to hide her shame , The Bawd must seeme with child : and who can blame Her for 't ? her husband 's very well content To cover it , all danger to prevent . Being very big with clouts , she does begin To fit her selfe against her lying in : Her reck'ning's out ; her groaning's heard by some , But ere the Mid-wife and the neighbors come , The child is borne ; some take distaste and cavill , And some do wonder at her easie travell ! She seemes exceeding weake , and very sick ; The Pander's faine to run and buy a Chick , To pull 't alive , then boy le it to a jelly ; The Nurse approves it good to ease her belly . Some doe mistrust : this the discourse they hold , Admiring that a woman growne so old Should have so sweet a babe ; but having past The danger of her month , she 's church'd at last . The whore that bore the child , is free from feare , ( But not from danger , though the coast seemes cleare ) Vnto the Bawd she does her selfe engage , And goes by Bridewell boldly ; and the cage Affrights her not ; but see , the wals ere long , ( Or something else ) begins to find a tongue , And does bewray the plot : and how they swerv'd ; And they were punisht , as they all deserv'd . Was 't not enough to sin , thou strumpet vilde , By prostitut on ? and to have a childe Vnlawfully be got ? but thou must make Another stranger sin ? and to forsake The infant when 't was borne ? father nor mother It should have knowne ; but time would never smother Such monstrous crimes . Poore infant ! thou art come Into the world , to be disgrac'd by some , And pitied of the rest ! for thou wast brought Vnlookt for hither , by a thing of nought . Take warning by thy mother ; doe not sell Thy soule away , for that which springs from hell . Thou hatefull Pander ! how couldst thou abide To owne this child as thine ? how could'st thou hide This matchlesse plot ? 't is like thy fee was more For this , than ten times keeping of the dore . Or did they gull thee , making thee believe It was thine owne ? my pen should then reprive Thee from the crime . But thou art weake and cold , So is thy Bawd , growne impotent and old ; Or didst thou do 't to keepe thy selfe from trouble ? How couldst thou think , but this would make it double ? Or didst thou take a pride to be a father ? That nere wast one before ? but I guesse rather Some gallant got it , and his morgag'd state Is bound to keep thee at a higher rate . Come neere , thou bawdy hagg ; thy wrinkled face With tawnie surrowes , will thy cause disgrace . Thou hast no wit save only for such tricks , I think thy age hath out-runne sixtie six . Thy hollow eyes have almost lost their sight , Thou hast no colour , but thy head is white . Who gave thy baby suck ? once thou hadst store , But 't was at least full fortie yeeres before . Or if some Incubus had laine with thee , How could thy fruit lesse than a monster be ? Those that did see thy shape , thy lying in , Did think that elves and goblins did begin To nurse their changlings there ; when thou didst speak They thought the furies did their gorges break . Some thought a witch bigg with a little devill Had come to leave it here , because in evill It should be more expert : or else in hell ( Being hot and dark ) she could not nurse it well . Some thought that ( snake-like ) thou 'dst turne yong agen , And others thought thou 'dst be a shame to men . Their fancies differd , as their minds were prest ; Some fear'd the worst , and others hop't the best . Thou desperate wretch ! how durst thou goe to meet Him that doth know the waverings of thy feet ? Or come within his house ? dost think thy vow Is priz'd of him who knowes thou mockst him now ? Dost come to give him praise in peoples sight For safe deliverance ? lasting paine 's thy right . Dost think he doth not know thee ? or dost think , Although he knowes thee , at this fault he 'l wink ? He 's ne're deceived ; thou 'lt find thy conscience will Ioyne with the Iudge , thy soule with guilt to fill . Thou' rt ever lost , except thou dost repent ; I 'le leave thee now to corporall punishment .

SECT. 23. Of a strumpet accusing others , and afterwards her selfe : her protestations . WHen wealthy sommer did decline in strength , The golden dayes diminisht much in length , The waking time which they from night did take , Being urg'd upon 't , they restitution make , To reconcile the ods ( but not the crime ) Both day and night must share alike in time : But light found wary friends to plead for day , Though she be cast , sh' has a months time to pay . Men did rejoyce because the teeming earth Was safe deliver'd of a fruitfull birth : But she lookt pale upon 't ; for all her store Was strain'd upon , to pay a twelve months score . This dealing vext her , faine she would have chid , But men had bills , and bands for what they did , And judgement past upon 'em ; most unkind ! The birds and beasts glean'd what they left behind . The watry treasure open'd wide its mouth , And grants a licence to the weeping fourth , For bottling up of teares : the clouds did hold Their swarthy colour , to invite the cold . The trees grew naked , whistling winds did call The leaves away . The earth depriv'd of all Her new-borne treasure , makes a league with men , For one graine she receives , to pay 'em ten Within the yeare : she doth receive the seed As earnest tyes , to pay as they agreed . ( The foole thought all was buried in a tombe , Some liv'd in hope ) and then she clos'd her womb . But keeping Centry at that time , I spi'd A walking clod of earth ; and when ●tri'd My skill , to know what creature this might be , I found she lov'd the Art of Bawderie . She being question'd , did with fury prate , Till she was lockt within the woodden grate . But being freed againe , she did unfold The names of those , who residence did hold At such a place ; the nature of their meeting , Th' occasions on 't , their feasting , and their greeting . What randevous they kept ; what domineering , What time they spent in drinking , whoring , swearing ; How Lady-like one of the queanes lay in ; If any aske , she must not be within ; She 's at her Countrey-house to take the aire , To purge her blood , and make her seeme more saire . Her Serving-man will answer at the dore , ( He 's but a dunghill Pimp , t' attend this whore ) That he is left to manage her estate , In black and white ; this cancell'd Asse will prate . Another is a Maid , new come to towne To buy a gorger , and a Tabbie gowne , And sell a jewell : she goes all in Plush : She 's newly enter'd , and she 'll quickly blush . She keepes her chamber , lying backward still ; She now takes physick , and she 's very ill . Another , if you knock , will be afraid , And she ( forsooth ) goes for her Chamber-maid ; She 'll wring her hands , and call the Gods above To right her cause ; she hath been crost in love . The fourth 's a daintiewidow , rich , and young , Her husband di'd at sea , and she stayes long To gather in her debts : she 's wary , staid , And she 's resolv'd to live without a maid . A Merchant loves her well , and he doth watch To take her in the minde to strike the match . All those are common : though they do pretend This , and the other thing : mark but the end , You 'll finde this true , if you have common sense ; Call up the Constable , and fetch 'em thence . The Master's Pander , and the Mistris Bawd ; Take them to Newgate , there they will be aw'd . When she had spoke , I follow'd in the round ; The place was search'd , the persons all were found As she descri'd ; the first began to frowne When th' Bridewell Matron came to change her gown . She clad in Plush grew milde , and chang'd her hue . She was in black , to morrow she 's in blue : The love-sick maid is from her sweet-heart barr'd , She 'd love the Beadle , but he whips too hard . The widow learnes good huswifrie , she knocks The hemp ; and yet she 's angry with the blocks . The Merchant leaves her ; is 't not very ill ? Nor can she stir to prove her husbands will . The Bawd must ride , the Pander's in disgrace , Yet he 's in hope to get the Hang-mans place . But afterwards this tell-tale whore confest Her shamefull plots ; thus she herselfe exprest : 'T is true , I am a whore , who knows not that ? I love a private corner , like a batt . I cut a purse sometimes , and take my share When others do 't ; and drink away all care . But yet I scorne to robb the poore , and when I do 't unknown , I pay 'em all agen . Those that can spare it , when they come to me , ( If in our love we can but once agree ) I often pillage them : when they grow bold , I watch my time to seize upon their gold . I am no market whore , like those that say Before they truck , sir , what shall be my pay ? Such mercenary trulls , that will not trade With any man , untill the match be made , I ever hated : it shall nere be fed ( By any blade ) that I am basely bred . I 'le be gentile : with any hide-bound elfe , I have away how to relieve my selfe . Could I weare silke , with gold and silver lace , A beaver of this price , which gives a grace To all the rest , a gorget of fine lawne , Edg'd round with purle , if I did never pawne A woodcocks golden feathers ? take a prey When it lies open , ready in my way ? Should I refuse such booties ? is it reason ? Farewell , 't is late , we 'l finde a fitter season To drink and laugh : the Constable is true , The Beadle 's right ; well , once againe , adiew . See here the vilenesse of this black-breath'd spirit , Who thinks her damned sin bespeaks a merit : 'T is true , it merits hell : I feare she 'l creep Quite from her grave into th' infernall deep . What 's bad in others , is to her a grace , It may be she doth think to have a place Of eminence in hell ; 'pray has there bin At any time a noblenesse in sin ? She did reveale the meetings of a crue That leigers were for hell , and lay perdue To stay the passers by : she thought her trading Might mend upon 't , which by their meanes was fading , I hope that sin is of the falling hand , When hell 's divided , long it cannot stand . Ah! how 's this world bewitcht ! how doth it play With serpents , crocodiles which will destroy Their owne familiars ! how doth it spend Its marrow , strength , and time ! rush to an end Which brings in endlesse woe ! oh that my pen Might strip those beasts ! the rest may live like men .

SECT. 24. Of a teeme of hackney Jades , that use to goe coupled in the night along the street . TO usher in the black and silent night ( 'T is often seen ) six beasts with collers white , With measur'd pace , doe walk along the street , Keeping a distance , mincing with their feet : Like pamperd mares they prance , spreading their flanks ; Being double-ey'd , they keep both file and ranks . How stately ev'ry one would act her part , If they might draw together in a cart ! Sometimes demure , and sometimes swell , and fome Like oxen ; but they leave their hornes at home , The two before weare beavers , gowns of silke , Rich diamond-rings , their hands as white as milk ; Their cheeks new playster'd of a Crimson hue , The ground well siz'd , but that their eyes were blew . No shark durst tempt'em ; for it cannot be That they should yeeld without a lawyers fee. The second two are full two sizes lower , They 'l take five shillings ; if you le give them foure , They 'l doe for once : the villaine will rejoyce That he can have 'em both , or take his choyce : Their gowns are Tammy , Grogren , and their rings Are set with Bristom stones , or some such things . Their hats are Demicastors , and they' are faine Touse the courser paint , but 's laid in graine . The last are Wastecoters , they want the trick To temperdirt , nor can they make it stick ; Or if it doe , being greasie , soone 't will melt , Their linnen 's soule , each of them weares a felt . They weare Saint Martins stones set well in brasse , They shine i'th'night , and they alike will passe . They 're eighteene pence a piece ; they will abuse You cheape enough ; there 's not a — to chuse . What is their fee , they will not be deny'd , You must be sure to pay the shott beside . If some of them be tooke , the rest not had , ( The tearme being done ) the night proving but bad , They know each others haunt , where they will meet To taste your bounty : ( watchmen search the street ) Take on of them , thou 'lt take a six fold curse ; Then take thou heed , or they will take thy purse . This is the way to make a man derided ; By this we know , hell is not yet divided .

SECT. 25. An enquiry , after a yong man . that was led away with a whore from his master . A Yong man lately chanc'd to be in place , Where was a Trull , who had a brazen face ; Her words she spoke by grosse , her tongue was tip't With shamelesse boldnesse : for 't was newly dip't In divers liquors ; but she did protest The Wine she drank was raught ; the Ale was best . Her carriage with her words did so agree You 'd think that hell had none so bad as she . This pretty beast found out a silly Asse , They both agreed to go abroad to grasse : His wit lay in his tongue ; all that he had ; But now the Ale had rob'd him ; drunk , and mad , He now begins to dally , with this whore , Through her allurements ( so have many more Been taken by her ) and his blood grows warme ; What ere he did , he thought it was no harme . She having brought him to her cursed bent ; Begins to search what coyne he had ; what spent : Iudge you his case , for she was much in feare 'T was low ; but then an Angell did appeare , Which chear'd her heart : the reckoning being paid ; She draw'd him thence , time must not be delaid , If place be silent : gone they are together ; ( Think what 's their end ) but who can tell me whither ? Faine would I find them , grant me then your ayd , And get a Warrant ; search , for they are strayd Into some corner : if we find them , so ; But if we cannot , hang 'hem , let them go . How you may know them , I will now describe , But if you find them , do not take a bribe , Nor let them go ; but shew the Man the Devill ; As for the whore , let Bride well prove this evill . He 's tallow-fac'd , his eyes are black , and narrow , His chops are thin , he 's mouth'd much like a sparrow , With beetle brows , his braine with humor swims , Ear'd like an Asse , his hat hath narrow brims , He 's tall and slender , that me thinks might grace him , But what is said before doth still out-face him . His clothes are very poore , his cloak 's the best , A sad brown colour ; being once but drest . I doubt she will perswade him ( else she 'll raile ) To put it for its faults in Brokers Iyale . And for the Iade , marke , how you may descry her ; By my description I would not bely her . Her face is swarty , with a hawks-bill nose , And goggle-eyes : how such a paire as those Would fright one in the night ! her looks so rude Would make you wonder , if you are endu'd With common sense ; her mouth o' th' largest size , Stands always open , or with lust , or lyes . Her head is almost bald , her teeth are thinne : She , like a changeling , slobbers down her chinne ; Her hands are brawny , and her fingers are Shrunck up for length , yet swelld with spight , or care : Her body 's grosse , her legs do keep asunder , Her feet are sure , yet being so kept under , They hew each other ; but her legs being big , Will beare 'em out in 't , she cares not a fig ; Her knees are reconcil'd , yet by relation , They 'le part asunder on a light occasion : Her' parrell is as meane , as meane may be ; Her gowne is thred-bare , and as light as she . Her gorgets dirty and I heard some grumbl'd , She weares no russe , for feare it should be tumbl'd . Her Felt is out of fashion ; yet 't will last her Till trading mend ; and then she 'le have a Caster . These marks will help you , if you do but mind them ; I 'le tell you where too , you are like to find them . First , search the renters ; place , and persons marke , If there you misse , then go to Mutton parke : For that 's a noted place ; but yet , I feare The Bawd being lofty , has no poore puncks there . Search narrowly ; blind Ale-houses may be A cover-slut ; let not the hornes go free . Then go to Bloomsbury , and common places Where varlets dwell , and vermine hide their faces . From thence to Islington , and seek about In Alehouses , and Taverns ; for a rout Of vassals there do meet : if that be vaine , And having rais'd the spirits of the braine , Come back to Turneboll-street ; but have a care , Be not to bold ; for why ? such creatures are , Both tempting , and infectious ; I have seen them , And three in all had but one nose between them . Then by the way that is about the Play-house , Search carefully , for I mistrust the day-house ; If still you misse'em , go to Shorditch then , For that 's a place , where whores have beggerd men : If there you find them not , I 'le say 't is strange , Yet be not out of heart , for Pickt-hatch Grange Is the most likeliest place : For this I know ; They 're either there , or gone to rotten Row . Enquiry being made , they 're found at last ; The common stock was small ; they spent too fast . The Angell was casheer'd , nor can they rest : For both their purses , were not penny-blest , Yet rest they did ; but how ! their bones were staid ; Ere they are freed , the reckoning must be paid . Now farewell cloke , it 's like to go in trouble ; The sweet is past , the sower will be double ! The whore will car'it ; quickly he is drawn To quit himselfe , to put his cloak to pawn . Well , gone it is : he sends it by this whore , He takes no leave , but never sees it more . He 's pawn'd the while , his word they will not take , Nor can I blame them ; now his heart doth ake : Yet not recover'd ; like a beast he sits : This whore , and drink , have rob'd him of his wits . This is thy doome , poore foole , thou must abide it ! Thy shame breaks out , thou hast no cloak to hide it . Muse , stay a while , for yonder comes the lade , And thou shalt know , what markets she hath made , She being come , begins to tell her tale ; What paines she took , to put the cloak to sale : She should have pawn'd it , for a noble price , But she hath sold it , for a noble thrice . One part she gave to him ; the other two She kept her selfe : thus queanes do use to do : One of the parts , she reckons for her paines ; The other part , she counted for her gaines : This long-lane Broker , well deserves a check , He judgment gives , and hangs it by the neck : Its master thought , it should but beare's expences , 'T is faine to suffer , for his foule offences ! Wast known by any ? has it ever been That cloaks were punisht , for their Masters sin ? This tyrant shows some favour to the Cape , 'T was prov'd , that was not guilty of the Rape : It had reveal'd them , had it not been blind , And sham'd them too , but that it hung behind . Then he perceiving how the markets went ; His cloak being gone , and all his money spent , And he himselfe is brought to such disgrace , He 'l be but hist at , when he shews his face . Vnto the whore , thus he his mind did utter , ( Shame mov'd his tongue , he could but only mutter . ) Thou dunghill Iade ! thou hast undone me quite : The time 's accurst , that I came in thy sight ! Thou tempting witch , thou rotten hag , thou monster ! How vile thou art , the World can never conster ; 'T was thou , 't was thou , did'st draw me unto sin , Thou jear'st me now , what pickle am I in ? Time , where 's thy sithe ? oh ! that my glasse were run ! I had been blest , had I not seen the Sun ! With that he stopt , griefe had his spirits sunk , He could not speak ; then thus begins the Punk : Thou prating foole ! I took thee for an Asse , Thou art a Rascall ; like a coxcombe passe . Thou foule-mouth'd villaine , what , doest raile at me ? Go hang thy selfe , and ease thy misery . Thou simple drone ! doe'st think to lick the hony In Forma pauperis ? hast thou spent thy money ? And art thou vext ? who is t can give thee help ? Thou art too yong ; alas , poore sucking whelp ! Hast lost thy cloak ? maintain'd how should I bee Or such as I , but by such fooles as thee ? Do'st cry ! hold up thy head : and let me kisse thee , Kisse somewhere else , if I do chance to misse thee . Go learne more wit ; if thou so canst , and then Get money too 't , and come to me agen . Vntill that time , I will thy absence crave , This is no jeare ; and so adew poore slave ! He sighes , and weeps , nor can he think of rest : What dreadfull torment doth possesse his brest : He 'd faine be gone , and yet as faine would stay , But that his cash is spent , he must away : But whether knows he not , 't is his intent Home to returne ; yet fearing to be shent , His mind doth change , he 'd go then to his kindred , But he shall shame them ; so , his journey 's hindred . If he dos walk by day , his friends will spy him ; Or if by night , the watch-men will desery him : He giving no accompt ; then they in rage , Will put him into Bridewell , or the Cage . His cloke he cannot get , yet goes about it : Nor has he food , nor can he live without it . He thus laments his case . Wretch that I am ! was I not worse than mad To yeeld to such a whore ? I 'me worse than bad ! Vndone , undone ! I have my Fortunes crost : My Friends are turn'd my Foes ; my credit 's lost . As I do , who can live : nor can I dy : My death 's to live ; in what a strait am I ! Me thinks the earth doth speake to my disgrace , The stones , the dust spit venom in my face ! Boreas is angry , growing sharp and thin ; The clowdy Ayre swels , to revenge my sin ! The Heavens frown , they 'l not endure my sight : The dayes controwler , scornes to give me light ! Could I with these , but once more , have a truce , And with my Friends , if ever such abuse I do commit again , then let me be A modell of disgrace ; that all by me May warning take ; oh ! how do I repent Of all my basenesse ! homeward I am bent . I will submit ; what though my master please For punishment , send me to little ease ! Or els corrects me private ? let him do it : I have deserv'd it , and I 'le yeeld unto it . In living thus , it adds unto my sorrow , Fall back , or edge , home I will go to morrow .

SECT. 26. Of a fight betwixta whore and her Money-lesse guest ; and upon what termes they parted . ASattin Trull , that had bewitcht a man With her inchantments ; ( for the Devill can Fulfill his pimps desires ; ) ( a Conjur'd spell Works wonders , strange , being newly brought from hel ) She with her powder , charmes , or that black art Makes him her pray , and seazeth on his heart . She like a spider , weaves her web so fine , Fac'd like an Angell , and her speech divine . A perfect hypocrite ! so full of Sin ! None but the Devill was more full within ! I 'le not describe her , with her painted face ; Her Character , is in another place . This paultry whore liv'd at so high a rate , So Lady-like , she must be serv'd in state . With dainty fare , in plate ; she will not faile , So long as she keeps coying with her taile . This painted flye spends all that he can get , For he 's took prisoner in the Spiders net : He thought of nothing , but of sport and play ; At last this flye had worne his wings away . A captive he remaind , and was content To undergo't ; 't was sweet imprisonment In his conceir ; but 't was the Spiders will , To cast her venom to infect him still . At last the flye got loose , away went he Creeping along , because he could not flee . Oft he was catcht : because he felt no paine , He longs to be a prisoner once againe ; Ere he had got his strength , or impt his wings , With golden feathers ; divers other things Were wanting too : as policy and wit , Which made this vermine , shew a Bedlam fit . What , com'st thou here ? for what ? hast brought no money ? Thou simple drone , d●st think to taste the honey ? 'Pon quarter ticket ? can I sup or dine , Or pay my rent , except thou bringst me coyne ? Words cannot clothe me , they are cheap ; but thou Regardst me not , thou broughtst me nothing now . Then like a Panther flew she in his face , Her clawes were sharp , her talons did disgrace His forme and visage : he was scratch so sore , The blood ran out , you 'd think he 'd come no more To visit her ; because he felt the smart : Face , purse , both chang'd ; all will not change his heart ; He begs , intreats , oh ! here 's a valiant spirit ! She pleads desert , and stands upon her merit . The co●ne he had , he gave her to be quiet ; But still she sweares , five pound 's but three dayes diet . Must I not feast my friends , to raise my name From ill report , to credit , love , and fame ? I must be open-handed to the poore , I must give food and money at my doore : And to my neighbours must not I be free , To win their love , they may speake well of me ? How should I do 't ? my love , and not my hands , Must bring in gaines ; thou know'st I have no lands . Out of my sight ! ne're come to me agen , But bring more gold ; I 'll trade with other men . He was perplext , nor knew he what to say ; But cries for mercie , thinking of a way To make amends , if she would but forgive him , He 'd send her money ; for her words did grieve him . The under Pimp must go , they did agree , ( Seeing he was mov'd with her necessitie ) That he should come againe ; but not before A time set downe , or sent for by this whore . Nor durst he come ; ( oh ! this a hellish prize ) For feare that she should scratch out both his eyes . Fresh customers are come , she must have time , To tell her money , and to act her crime . Muse , stay not here , thou hast no hope to mend her : Go out and see , what money he will send her . He 'd take up money , promise any rate , But here 's the spight , his word is out of date . He tries a second , he no coync can borrow ; A third denies him , to increase his sorrow . He cannot chuse , but see his credit 's lost : He frets , and sweares , Was ever man thus crost ? But then at last , he thought upon his chest , Where he had clothes ; one sure above the rest , Being verie costly , must to Brokers hall , And be condemn'd , to free himselfe from thrall ; He took the gold , and sent it to his trull ; Iudge , had he wit ? or were his braines so dull To think it fit , to plaister up this sore To bleed a frcsh ? it cost him six times more . The whisk in brings the gold ; and now this Iade , Do's blesse her fortunes , such a thriving trade None but my selfe enjoys ! how am I blest ! I live at ease , I eat and drink the best ! My house well furnisht , I have ioy my fill , I go in silk , here 's gold , more 's comming still ; O sweet ! O pleasing ! profitable sin ! To raise me thus ! now I can raise my kin : I 've brave attendants , one weares silver lace , The other scarlet , is not this a grace ? Now here 's a calme , the blustring Devils laid , The evill spirit 's conjur'd ; hell is staid , From belehing fury : i's t not very strange ? 'T will vent again , when once the Moon doth change : The Pimps must have their sees , need makes 'em crave it , To buy them boots ; she 's loth to let 'em have it , Although her gold doth ring such lusty sounds : Her trading's rais'd from eighteen-pence to pounds . 'T is but a time ! will she be ever yong ? Her pounds will fall to nine-pence er 't be long . Age and the P. will shame her shamelesse lise ; Or hell will arbitrate , and end the strife . But where 's the lecher all this while , that I Have left so long ? thoughts of Adultery , Have made him drunk ; or is he raging mad , To think upon the pleasure that he had ? And how he is depriv'd ? or of the time When he shall go once to renew his crime ? Or do's he count the minutes of the clock ? Or enjoy time , and wish himselfe a Stock ? Or does he take an hower for a day ? Or thinks the day a yeare ? or does he stay I' th' Countrey for the aire ? or in the Citie , Expecting still when she will shew him pitie To send for him ? and think that houre is blest ? For that houres sake , he 'll chide , and curse the rest . The time 's not come , she set ; nor has he treasure , He dares not go 'pon paine of her displeasure ; Vnlesse he 'd sell his eyes , or pawne his face Against her nailes ; 't is money buys the place . His heart is dead , although his griefe survive ; His body tombes his minde , while he 's alive . The time is tedious , for it will not run ; Nor change the scene , untill its part be done . The place yeelds no content , nor will he tarric In any place , his fancie still doth varie . No company can give to him delight , Except the queane ; O! were she in his sight To put his minde in tune , his griefe were past : H' has nere been merry since he saw her last . The faithlesse Broker , on the other hand , Doth fret him too ; he will not take his band , And let him have his sute ; no , he must pay , Or if he doth not fetch it at the day , 'T will be condemn'd againe ; so he 's perplext : The Broker and the whore , though he be vext , Shew him no favour ; how is he distrest ! He 's no more piti'd than a savage beast . Had he but money , then the Pimp would finde him , And flatter him , and sweare , how she did minde him At every turne ; and open such a story , That how she counted him her chiefest glory . But now he feares , he 'll bring some other to her , That 's flush with gold : & help him then to wooe her . Alaspoore man ! why do'st not think as well , The way to her is the right way to hell ? Think how Calisto , in his heat of lust , Beat out his braines ; think how this whore will rust , And moult away : Paulina was more faire , Dukes did embrace her ; like the guilded aire She did appeare ; she to the Hang-man gave Herselfe a Prostitute ; that she might have But one meales meat ; sh' was afterward deni'd A peice of bread ; with guilt and shame she di'd . Cast up thy gaine , see how it doth amount ; The more thou sinn'st , the greater's thy account . How vaine ! how short ! how curst are thy contents ! Take them at best , they are but merriments , That bring forth shame , guilt , everlasting horror ; Art thou not mad , that thou do'st thus grieve for her ? Would'st thou fain have thy children beg their bread ? To hate thee living , and to curse thee dead ? Now turne betime , while yet thou hast a space ; For after death , thou 'lt finde nor time , nor place .

SECT. 27. Of the life , death , and funerall of a Gentleman , undone by a brood of vermin . AMournfull accident I must unfold ! I 'll speak but that which prating Fame hath told : A Gentleman well bred ( for by relation , His friends were famous for their reputation ) Brought up to learning , never sparing cost ; But yet it was but charge , and labour lost . For why ? his lewdnesse hurri'd on his fate , He follow'd whores , so was unfortunate . What e're he got , 't was spent , and all his care , Was to grow carelesse ; he would never spare , But laid it on ; for this , who can but see , That whores are knowne the costli'st beasts that bee ? Much thus he spent , and oft he was suppli'd ; But of his will he was at last deni'd . His father found all was but throwne away , The more he had , the more he went astray . He to reclaime him , striv'd to keep him shorter ; It chang'd him not , but put his minde to torture . Advice , instructions , promises to wooe him , The likely danger put he oft unto him ; Then threatning him , that for his fowle demerit , He 'd cast him off , and would him disinherit . All would not serve , he is so far from mending , That he 's more vile , though not so much in spending . But tender-hearted parents needs must love The childe , though bad ; their bowels still'did move . Though he was shamelesse ( sin did never grieve him ) Yet still his father could not but relieve him . He 'd often cry out , This unhappy Boy Hath sham'd my glory , and o'rethrowne my joy : I am in doubt , if I his part should take , I shall be deem'd as guiltie for his sake : If I neglect him , though he be so vilde , I shall be censur'd too ; he is my childe . My griefe is great , yet all my hope 's not past , Though he goes far , yet he may turne at last . How should I joy , to see him turne and thrive ! I 'd think my selfe , the happiest man alive . My hope dies now ; while I fresh hopes would borrow , Feare threatens mee , to aggravate my sorrow . This Russian values not ( as it appeares ) His fathers mourning , nor his mothers teares . Nor weeping of his sister , nor his brother ; Nor yet the counsell of his friends , nor other : But such as are like-minded with him ; they He 'll hug , although they take him as a prey . His Comrades are such Roarers , you may well Think they were newly vomited from hell . For like a gallant of great Pluto's Court , With borrow'd language , one must make him sport : Although he be a bird fit for a cage , Yet , if he can but parrat on the stage , He 's now a Gentleman , th' other can coyne New oaths , and sweare , This oath at first was mine . He sweares in foūo , domineering in 't ; Hell would elect him Master of the Mint . Give him the wall , or else he 'll draw , or stab , He 's made an Vsher to a painted Drab . His wealth hangs on his back ( let 's have no mocks ) His riches lye in his Tobacco-box . He 's valiant ! pitie 't is he wants a sword , The Gentleman must buy , or passe his word To furnish him : and then he 'll brag and boast , And hack and hew , as mad Tom did the post . His clothes are all put into Taylors books , He 'll hardly pay , I ghesse it by his looks : The Taverne is the place where he 'll abide ; His sword doth hang so neatly by his side , He looks upon 't ; it joyes him at the heart ; Then knocks , & cries ; Rogue , bring the other quart ; But has no coyne : it is enough that he Vouchsafe to grace them with his companie . Then having paid , and drank a round carouse , They went to revell in a bawdy house , ( As'twas suppos'd ) but there they fell at strife ; The Gentleman ( 't was thought ) did keep his wife , And he consented to 't ; but who can tell , Whether or no ? but this , all was not well . The wine did work , which stirr'd up angry words , From words to blows ; and having drawn their swords , The quarrell grew so hot ( and so it past Betweene them all ) that it fell out at last , This gallant there was slaine ; a little wound Spoyl'd his delight , and brought him to the ground . A fearfull thing ! but e'rehe lost his breath , He struggeld much with that grim Tyrant , Death , Confest his faults , but when his friends came in , Shame forc'd him thus to aggravate his sin . Alas ! my sorrow cannot be exprest ! A hell , a hell is gendred in my brest ! My hatefull sins have brought me to this case , And every one seemes with a Devils face : I liv'd a beast , O! that I might so dye ; I wish in vaine ! worse than a beast am I ! I scorn'd advice , now I am scorn'd of all , The world may now rejoyce to see my fall . My soule is sunk ; it must go , who knows whither ? I 'd live , yet dye , and yet I would do neither ! My heat encreast , though I did often drench it : But now I finde , my blood alone will quench it . Reproach for ever seizeth on my name , And for my sake , my friends must beare the shame . How short are vaine delights ! how soone they 're gone ! They shew content , but yet they give us none . Vnseason'd pleasures ! what is 't that they bring , But guilt ? they passe , and beare a dreadfull sting , Which time will ne're weare out . Alas ! this story Is but a catalogue of painted glory ! I pleas'd my selfe with sensuall things ; and lies I took for truth : all good I did despise . I see my folly , how am I too blame ! These curst contents have but a rotten name . Thou great Preserver of the soules of men , Shew mercie on me : and thy praises then Shall be declar'd by all that know thy love : And I shall blesse thee with thy Saints above . Vile world adieu ! O heavens , take my breath ! And snatch my soule out of the jawes of death ! Thus spoke , he ended ; all his breath was spent : Death seiz'd on him , and clos'd him in his tent . To shew the case his body then was in , The consequent of his precedent sin , I now forbeare ; I 'll give you leave to think What whores do bring , with great excesse of drink . His friends lament him ; how their teares do fall : They 'll all be spent before the funerall . His mother chiefly layes to heart this crosse ; With brinish teares she thus bewailes her losse . O heavens ! how hath this black horrid fate Made such a blessing so unfortunate ! Had he but di'd an infant ; or my womb That brought him forth , had been his senslesse tomb , Both had been happie ; how had I been blest ! For in my grave I had been left at rest . But now I am tormented ; this my sorrow , Vntill death come , will never finde a morrow . I see on hopes the more I set my minde , The lesse of comfort I am like to finde . Who had more hopes than I had of a son ? Who hath lesse joy ? alas I am undone ! Is this a token given by a friend , To bring my boy to an untimely end ? More she had spoke ; but being discontented , Griefe call'd for teares , and so she was prevented . The Cause of this his death , how he was slaine , Whose fact it was , all 's evident and plaine . Who 'd stand upon 't ? the Sessions would decide it , But that I think they have already tri'd it : He 's coffin'd up ; now this is all I crave , Provide some teares , and drop them on his grave ! I would not beg , but that his friends have none ; Yet in a week , they 'l pay you ten for one . Grave , now receive him ; I 've discharg'd my trust . Conceale his name : and cover him with dust . His Epitaph . HEre lies a man , I can no whit commend him , He sham'd himselfe in living like a beast ; While he had cash , his Imps would then defend him : Now he is charg'd , to make the wormes a feast . His lust , his life , that was so proud and stout , How soone 't was with a rapiers point let out !

SECT. 28. Of an old man , wooing , and marrying of a yong girle ; how they disagreed , and how she turn'd a whore . THere liv'd a man , ( but where I need not tell ) For credit , worth , esteem'd of all so well , That fame began to prate on 't : for his life , To make it sweet , he wanted but a wife : Death rob'd him of his first ; she 's in her tombe , Had he another to supply her roome , How happy he should be ! for being old , He must have one , to keep him from the cold . Wealth 's not sufficient , to cheere his age : He 's newly entring on the seventh stage , Of bald swift time ; his haire with snow was mixt , But 't was at odds , for there were pathes betwixt , The hoary-frost , had seiz'd upon his beard , His face was pale , and wrinkled : you have heard , How Northerne Boreas , from the pole doth glide , To shake his treasure , or'e the Westerne bride . The plants do tremble , Winter is his guest , Of all the months , December suits him best , So is his flesh grown chill , his bones do quiver , Some yong one that is warme , must him deliver ; From his cold palsy : O! how faine he 'd find One qualified agreeing to his mind ! He sought a while , but 't was his hap at last To spy a Virgin , as the stroets he past ; And as he lookt , his heart began to melt , His colour 's chang'd ; the passion that he felt , Did warme his blood : his shaking fit grow's more , But alter'd quite ; not cold , as 't was before . Has Winters Sun now got such power here ? Or will it be thus warme , but once a yeare ? Frost has no heat in●● whence then comes this change : The ayre is cold , the alteration 's strange ; Nor was there signe of fire , how comes this frost Dissolv'd so soon ? 't was by a walking ghost . Sh 'had made him yong again , if she had staid : But now he 'l ne're be well , till she be laid . This old man bends his mind , t' obtaine his ends , H' has hope to have her , 'cause he knows her friends , He 'l go to try ; if he be welcome to her , He 's mad for ever ; but his gold must woe her . He wants a face , he feares she will abhorre him ; But yet he hopes , his wealth will do it for him . Wealth is a Lady ; no one will dispise her : But if she doth , he knows , her friends are wiser . He 's gone to try ; I wish him good successe : And all that know the man , can do no lesse . He speaks but little ; that is best at first ; The sight of her's enough to quench his thirst : Yet he must kisse her ; had you seen them play , You would have laught : she cri'd , old man , away . He must imbrace her : O , this pretious pearle ! Fie , fio , said she , an old man kisse a girle ? Her friends approv'd on 't ; he has hope to speed , He thinks in time the girle would be agreed . Home he returnes ; but ere he goes againe , He 'l change his visage : though his habit 's plaine He 'l have it alter'd ; though his beard be made To grow so broad , and squared like a spade , It must be shav'd away ; and it must be Turn'd up , and sharp'c just like a Roman T : His cloak bag , breeches too , shall be cut lesse , He will be suted , in a comely dresse . To sute the rest , he weares his second Ruffe , 'T was made of Cambrick , or some dainty stuffe . His hat 's cut narrower , and 't is nearly drest : ( Good husbandry . ) He meanes to keep his best , Vntill the wedding : Lovely he had bin , To look upon , had he but chang'd his skin . He 's gone without his staffe ; he wants no prop , The worst thing is , ( being cold ) his nose doth drop . He courts this lovely lasse , with great delight , She finds his drift , and then she loath'd his sight . At last he broke his mind to her , and said ; I have a suit to thee : I am a fraid , Thou wilt deny me : this is all I crave , Thy love , thy love , O! that 's the thing I 'd have : Sweet hony , grant me this , and I will prove , So kind to thee , that I 'le deserve thy love . I 've wealth enough , I 'le make it all thine own : If I can have from thee this favourshown , I shall be blest ; am I too old for thee ? I 'me not so old though as I seem to bee . What 's forty yeares ? my wife death tooke away ; I griev'd so much , that made my haire turne gray . Thou 'lt find me yong , and active , never feare ; Be thou but kind ; this Diamond-ring , my deare , Take as a pledge : come , never blush , but speak Thy mind in love ; or els my heart will break ! Yong men are fickle , care lesse of their wives , Men that are stai'd , do love them as their lives . Thy friends do like it well , if I may find Thy liking too , O! how 't will ease my mind ! Then he was silent ; but the maid repli'd : Sir , you mistake the mark ; or shoot too wide . Do's gray haires dote ? how do you think I can ( Being yong and fresh ) affect so old a man ? In policy you have these words exprest To try my wit : I take it but in jest . Love 's out of date with you ; 't is rather meet , You buy you coffin , and your winding sheet . I thank you for your love ; your wealth , your gold Provokes me not : if I may be so bold , I 'le say you were not wise , to set your mind , 'Pon one so yong : but love they say is blind . If needs you 'l wive , then take a marron grave ; Decrepid age , with wealth might comfort have . Cease , cease your suit ; judge , is 't a fitting thing To match cold Winter , to the wanton Spring ? My blood 's now rising , yours is in the fall , You 'ld do me wrong , your selfe no good at all . What good wilt be to you to do me harme ? You 'ld have a yong one , now , to keep you warme . I cannot think my friends will give consent To sell me to a living punishment . Farewell old Father ; age might make you know , Seing you are rich , you should not look so low . He hearing this , it cut him to the heart ; But could not speak a word , to case his smart : His joynts did shake , his eyes bewraid their lust ; Then to her friends went he , now speak he must : Alas ! this peevish wench , doth slight my proffer , My love , my person , wealth , whatere I offer As tokens of good will , are not respected ; The giver , and the gift , are both rejected . Perswade her but to love me ; then will I Invest her to my wealth : and when I dy , I 'le leave her all ; if she refuse to give Her love to me , long here I cannot live . Then they well weighing , of his great estate , The credit that he had , how fortunate She might be in the Match ; how they might save , A sum of money by 't ; he did not crave A portion , but her love he aym'd at most : She in his riches ; he in her would boast : They sum'd up all ; for they had many ends , She being rais'd , she might preferre her friends , They use perswasions , arguments to move her , With promises ; and how the man would love her . But threatning was the burden of the song ; She blusht , she wept , and yet she held her tongue . But discontented , to her selfe she said : In what a case am I ! I am afraid I shall be lost for ever . I had rather Displease my selfe , than move , and vexe my father . One I must do ; I shall be counted vilde , If he refuse to own me for his childe . Nor will he give me meanes ; I shall be poore , And if I beg my bread , from dore to dore Who 'l pitty me ? if I this old man take , His wealth can never restitution make To my afficted mind ! how shall I do To ease my heart , and please my father too ? His age will shame my youth , how shall I meet My old acquaintance , as I walke the street , Without a blush ? his wrinkled flesh , his breath , Will be to me as similies of death . Oh , who would match yong blood with parched dust ? Or marrow with dri'd bones ? alas ! I must ! Time bring my doome ! that 's all the hope I have , That I shall lay him quickly in his grave ! So she submits , and now her Fathers pleas'd , The match is made , the Seigniors minde is eas'd . But she is griev'd ; her grieving is in vaine : For 't is too late to ease her of her paine . My Muse was charg'd ( I 'm loth that she should stray ) To bid the guests , against the wedding day . Nor shew th' apparrell that they did provide , To fit the Bridegroome and his lovely Bride . The preparation for the marriage feast , What company , who was the chiefest guest . What mirth they rais'd , yet how the Bride was sad , What plate was there , th' attendance that they had . Nor of the Musique , how they plaid , and sung , And bore their parts , or how the bels were rung . What they agreed , their walking after dinner , Their merrie tales , or who was the beginner : Nor how they supt ; the possets at the last ; How he rejoyc'd , when once the day was past . Or how the Bride was loat'h to go to bed , ( She was not jealous of her maiden-head . ) How she desired , that her friends would stay , How he thought long , before they went away . With sundry other things , if I rehearse , They 'ld rob me of my time , and stuffe my verse . Black Morpheus cover'd them , old Time did place'em ; But Hymen being angry , would not grace'em . Dame Nature 's vext at those that made the match : Her choler 's turn'd to craft , and she does watch , To do 'em a mischiefe ; she the marriage curst , She scorn'd to come to 't , though sh' was bid at first . The Fates are bent against him , in their rage , They 'll graft his head , then bring him on the stage . They had been married but a little space , Ere he grew jealous ; and he did disgrace Her in his carriage ; he did mind the earth , And dig'd for gold ; she pleasure lov'd , and mirth . He was so harsh to her , and did deny Her things convenient ; he was in her eye Slighted as much ; for he was froward , mad ; And fear'd h 'had lost , that love he never had . His fire is quickly quencht , but there 's a flame Of lust in her : nor can he quench the same . He 's growing downward , she is rising still , He 'd keep her in , but she will have her will . She cals for money , but he keeps her short ; And sitting by her selfe , being all amort , Thus she complaines : oh , how am I distrest ! Vndone for ever ! and my mind 's opprest ! Had death but married me , I had not seene These dayes of griese , or matcht with age , and spleen . Oh! that my tender flesh , my blood , and bones , Were rak'd in earth , and coverd o're with stones ! I should be freed from this cold peice of lead , That chils my flesh , lyes by me in my bed . Oh! who would suffer such a thing but I ? My temper 's hot , and moist , he 's cold and dry . Why should I spend my youthfull dayes in sorrow ? Or stay death's leisure , waiting for a morrow ? Shall I alive , be pen'd up in my grave ? Mewd up at home , to please this hide-bound slave ? I 'le never do 't : Lycurgus made a law To break such matches ; and to keep in awe Such jealous fooles : wise Solon did consent That woman which at home had no content , Might have some other friend should freely do Without controwle , what she consented to . What pitie 't is , these Lawes are out of date ! That could not chuse , but be a happie State ! This help I have , I know he is precise , ( Though he be craftie , I will be as wise . ) I 'll be so too : I 'll go to Church , nay more , I 'll read , I 'll pray , I 'll seeme to go before The strictest of them ; many things I 'll do , Lift up mine eyes ; both lye , and flatter too . He 'll ne're distrust me , then I shall be knowne , I 'll get acquaintance , and I 'll use mine owne . Nature hath made me perfect , I was borne To please my selfe , and give this Churle the horne . I shall have gold enough , love , and delight , When men of worth take pleasure in my sight . This hypocrite is troubled in her minde , Dissembles cleanly ; if he will be kinde , And let her go , that she may comfort take , Sh' has sworne to turne a Convert for his sake . He 's glad ; these times to her he will allow , He does not doubt , but she 's a Convert now . She 's mann'd along , she 's gone , ( he does not feare ) To see and to be seene , but not to heare . When she comes home , she is so griev'd for sin , She cannot tell the text ; but she 'll begin To change her life : 't is true , you may believe her , She has not sinn'd enough , and that doth grieve her . She 's provident , she 'll doe the best she can , To bring her minde to go without a man . She 'd seeme to go to Church , but mist the dore , Because her minde was bent to play the whore . Her customers kept touch ; nor did she stay , But Sermon-time ; a game , and so away . Her forward zeale did please the old mans minde , Although it burn'd amisse ; he could not finde Out her deceit : before the bells had rung , She 'd still be gone , and staying somewhat long , At last he did mistrust , and sent a spye , Who being cunning , with a watchfull eye , Found out her tract ; and took her in the lurch ; For of a bawdy-house , she made her Church . This news being brought , oh , how this man lamented ! His passion stopt his mouth : so discontented ! His griefe 's to great , to be exprest with tongue , Or melted into teares , shame's mixt among . When she came home ( poore whore ) ( she had no doubt That he mistrusted , or had found her out . ) She seem'd to be much taken with the preacher , And for the sermons sake , she prais'd the teacher . She could rehearse the doctrine , and the use , But left the reasons out ; her foule abuse Is now discover'd : yet she dos deny it ; He 's but a knave that sayes it ; I defie it . But being prov'd so plainly to her face , And where she was ; she alter'd then her case . Not by submission ; but she was more bold : And told her husband ; sir , you are too old For my young yeares ; you cannot give delight ; I like you ill by day , but worle at night . Age makes you senselesse ; just like wood , or stone , You take up roome , but all your vigor's gone . Besides , you are so fretfull , and so froward , So hide-bound , jealous , dogged , and untoward , I cannot love you ; I must take my pleasure , I am too quick , to tarry your dull leisure . You knew my mind before , yet you would crave My person ; but my love you could not have . You urg'd my friends , and they prevail'd with me To give my hand ; my heart did ne're agree . Was not your act in that , as bad as this ? Pray pardon me then , though I doe amisse . He staid not to reply , nor to relate How by her meanes , he was unfortunate ; Nor of her former carriage , nor that act , Though her dissembling did increase the fact . But he in fury open'd wide the dore , And turn'd her out ; now she 's a licenst whore . She 's knowne abroad , and she willtrade with many , And by degrees with sharking rogues , or any , That are but young ; she 'l freely share a stake : But with no old man , for her husbands sake . Within the city she doth first begin To set up for her selfe ; and truck with fin . She keeps all open , and she freely can Bid welcome to the master , or the man . But yet she stayes not long , in any place , She 'l change her name , and often change her face . Yet now and then , the prisons crave a fee , They' are largely paid by such a one as she . Some by her , lost their credits ; some their health , Some lost their soules ( I feare ) and all their wealth . Men were bewitcht by this deluding sinner : And when she found her hel-black troop came thinner , She left the city walls , though there 't was fading , She thought the skirts would yeeld her constant trading , When she had found a guest , that pleas'd her eye , She never left him , till sh 'had drawne him dry . But walking by her selfe , two sparks did dog her , And one of them was but a petty-fogger : Of true-bred whore-masters ; he had the straine , H 'had shamelesse speech , his nose was dy'd in graine : He wanted wit , and money , but his hope , Because he had relation to the Pope , He should be fortunate , and welcome to her : And any friendly office he can do her , ( Put coyne aside ) she shall command him still , All that he craves , is only her good will , That he may wait upon her ; to a minut , He 'll do her service ; she may trust him in it . She entertaines this servant of renowne , But with his Mistris he 's familiar growne , And very inward ; ( yet if you had spi'd him , You would have thought the Hospitall had fri'd him . ) Pretending businesse at her chamber late , And e're she rose : they two must lye and prate . What else they did at any time , or place , I 'll leave it on the score : time will not race The shame away : they all the debt must pay , Or here below , or at the Iudgement day . This letcherous Trull is carelesse of her name , Forgets her soule , and makes a jest at shame . She has her choyce of Rascals ; 'mong the rest , One season'd whore-master doth like her best : He 's very brave , although he be not rich ; His colour 's like to carrion in a ditch . His life doth stink as bad ; he had a wife , But whilst she liv'd , she had a begging life . He spends his meanes and time to keepe this whore , And for her sake , he 'll make his children poore . His friends forsake him , he is led by sense , He 's scorn'd of all men ; that 's his recompence . The Cancars make him vex , 't is worst of all , They visit him at every spring and fall . They search within , and creepe up in their kinde , To seize upon his eyes , and make him blinde . This quean doth carry 't smoothly ; with her tongue She does deceive men , modest looks among Are mixt with her deceits ; and with the best She strives to dwell , and make her whorish nest : And goes in modest habit ; none can know , But that she 's honest by the outward show . With whores 't is growne in fashion in our times , With seeming modestie to hide their crimes . Where ere she comes , her promises are large , If custome faile she cannot pay the charge . If she be forc'd , her lodging to remove , They must beleeve : she 'll leave her emptie love Behinde in pawne ; this pawne is cheape and ill : But if she pay not , they must keepe it still . Long she continu'd in this shamefull course , No alteration , but from bad to worse . The old man tries all meanes to change her minde , All is but labour lost ; nor can he finde Content without her ; he his time had past With discontent ; Death darted him at last . And now she 's joviall ; all her debts she 'll pay , ( If they can get 'em ) when he 's cloath'd in clay : To time I 'll leave her , she must take her turne By death e're long . Now he 's laid in his urne . His Epitaph . THis Seignior sold his joy , to please his lust ; He did repent on 't , when his heat was quenchs ; Time judg'd it fitter he should match with dust , When he with brinish sorrow had been drencht . Dame Nature envies all unequall matches : Death , for his fault , doth keepe him under hatches .

SECT. 29. Of a proud , stately Harlot raised by her sin ; how she rain'd divers ; and of many passages in the prosecution of it . THe gallant whore , who goes in rich aray , Turns day to night ; the night she 'll turn to day : Although at first her breeding was but base , Sprouts as a branch from some Imformers race . Being somewhat handsome in her blushing prime , She thinks it best , to make use of her time . Some braying Asse that can but use his tongue , He 'll complement : they being both but young , Are soone be witcht with one anothers faces ; Then for their ends they have their meeting places , Till at the last this Asse had shed his coat , His braying alters to a mourning note . The Sergeants , Bailiffs , do encrease his feares , Poore Asse at last doth prick , or shake his eares , And thinks his heelcs are better than his hands , He whips away into the Netherlands . This Queane adornes her like a modest Maid : Alas ! another is by her betray'd ! Now she being cunning , will not serve his lust ; His fire burnes , and marrie her he must : A little while they do in pleasure swim ; At last he findes she made an Oxe of him , He then complain'd : Alas ! what did I meane , To marrie thus an over-ridden queane ? His way of trading he doth quite neglect , His Creditors will give him no respect . His stock 's confirm'd , his credit all is lost : Poore simple man ! he with this whore is crost ! She layes it on , and spends ( while it remaines ) On such that promise to allow her gaines . At last , when he had run so far in debt , He 'd buy some wit , but 't is too late : he 'll fret : His wit and money parted are away , Now he must run , he can no longer stay . The time is come this whore did wish to have , She 'll have more freedome with a perjur'd knave : She 'll trim her selfe , and paint her face anew : She 's brave ! her face looks of another hew . Come now who will , this block is far remov'd : You are the man that I have ever lov'd . Then she will sweare that she 'll be constant to him ; She works him in , but quickly she 'll undo him . He must maintaine her at a loftie rate ; She goes in pomp ; at last her whorish state Does bring him low ; his house he keeps no longer , He is convey'd to one that is far stronger . Then he bewailes his lamentable crosse ; And does relate their passages ; his losse ( 'T is evident , poore man ! he must abide it ) Breaks out the more , the more he strives to hide it . Now when this whore does want a man of worth To keepe her brave , she 'll send her Pander forth . ( Pray call him Captaine ) she must beare his charge ; Her streames are low , expences have been large . Well , out he goes , being hinder'd by no weather ; His money 's spent , but he will shake his feather : He findes the Spark , he tels him of a Lasse , That doth for beautie all the rest surpasse . If he 'd but go , he shall be welcome to her , She 's somewhat coy ; but he will help to wooe her . These joviall blades must make a merrie day , To talk more on 't : the reckoning call'd to pay , Pimps purse is emptie ; but 's Tobacco-box To all is free ( they 'd best beware of pox ) In open glasses they must drink the round , Then suck the weed of eighteene pence a pound . Now Whisk in brings this joviall gallant up , A place appointed where they all must sup: And for their sauce , they have this painted lade Brought in ; he sees her , scone the match is made : They vow then to be constant to each other : She is his sister , he must be her brother : And while he lives , he never will for sake her : But for his wife , he 'll bid , The Devill take her . Now for his whore ; her back and belly cheere , Do cost him full five hundred pounds a yeere : Maintaines the Pimp that brought him to this thrall : No other Bawd ; she 's Whore and Bawd and all . Now farewell Freeze , h' has got to grace this harlot , A Stammell sute ; but you must call it Scarlet . In habit like a Citizen she 'll be ; Sometimes no Lady is more fine than she . A house for winter , she must have to stand About the Citie , with a brave command : Her Summer-house neere to the flowing tide , Rich furniture , gain'd by her whorish pride . Now when this Spark is from his Fondling gone , If none come to her , then she 'll send for one ; Bring her but money , she will use her trade , And truck with any , like a Hackney lade . When he returnes , she 'l wipe her mouth , and say , Why did my sweeting stay so long away ? He must imbrace her , kisse , and call her hony ; She 'l quickly search to see what store of money He' has brought her home ; if little , then she 'l frown , She wants a sattin , or a tabby-gown . Vp he must take it on the Mercers score , And glad he is that he can please this whore : And of the Gold-smith jewels , diamond-rings : When this is done , still she wants other things . His state consumes , his friends give councell to him With griefe : and pleade , this whore will soon undo him . All will not serve , but he will still adore her . His wife now sees a queene preferr'd before her , With heavy heart do's to her husband cry : Forsake this whore , or I with grief shall dye ! With teares she praies , as she before him stands , You have an heire , then morgage not your lands . Alas ! you know , 't will be a living shame , When he is an heire only but in name ! These infants , they must beg , or els do worse , You on your children strive to bring a curse : Shall it be said , this was his fathers place ? He kept a whore , and sold it with disgrace ? Your of-spring-too shal ever beare this slaine , You rais'd them up , and threw them down again , Think on that vow you did in marriage make , With that injunction ; which was , then to take None but my selfe ; you know I am your wife : This Harlot now has gain'd your love ; sow'd strife Betwixt us two : what is love gone for ever ? Which once I thought , that none but death could sever ? My selfe , my love was constant still and true ; My friends I did forsake for love of you ; Oh! be perswaded , pitty now my smart ; And toward your children , beare a fathers heare ? If to my suit you will not bend your cares , Let griefe dissolve me to a flood of teares ! When thirsty time hath drank up all my store , Then take me death : for I can weep no more ; And let me now a second favour find , My children take , which I shall leave behind . And for my husband , let all honest men Lay out some teares ; he 'l one day pay 'em agen . Vntill that time , I wish , that babling Fame , Be silenc't that he never spread his name . This one thing more ( my passion is so strong : ) And then for ever I will hold my tongue : Some Poet he will write upon your grave , He kept a whore who us'd him as a slave , To maintaine her , he did both sell and borrow ; His children beg , his wife she dy'd with sorrow . Let time and age with men record his fall : Be warn'd by him ; his whore and he spent all . This plaint moves not ; nor infants moanes about her He 's vext at her , and sometimes he doth flour her ; Then he relates this story to his drab , Who answer'd thus ; what , hath she eat a Crab ? What , doth she prate ? a stinking durty slut ! Is she too full ? I vow I 'le pinch her gut , And make her glad to eat a piece of bread ; What will she dye , except she may be head ? I 'le keep her bare and make her speak me faire ; You must be tutor'd too about your heire . Tush , let him work , and set him to a trade ; Pack out the rest : and let this ugly lade Vex in her grease ; what , doth she send about Her privy spics to find our meeting out ? Do , be a foole ! and let her railing passe , And shew thy selfe a tender-harted asse ! What didst thou say when she did call me whore ? Pray Love , be quiet . I 'll do so no more ? She raile at me ! Oh! would I could but meet her In place convenient : see how I could greet her . Pray if you love me , make her rule her tongue ; She 's old , and wrinkled , I am fresh and yong . A snotty Iade ! I mar'le , how thou couldst love her ! She 's vext that I have got respect above her . Let any one that hath but skill to try , Iudge which is handsom'st , whether she or I : Let none compare me to this homely Ioane ! She sreets because she 's saine to lye alone . Who 'ld lye by such a whither'd piece of flesh , When he may have well favor'd , sweet and fresh ? Go to thy dow'd , if thou hast but a mind : And quit forget that I to thee was kind . Sweet , dost thon think that I will be so mad , That ere her words or teares shall make me sad ? No , do not think I have so little wit : Let , let her swell in this her frenzy fit . Shall I be ty'de ? I 'le tame this peevish fool . And for her tongue , let winter make it cool ; Let night-hags fright her in her bedlam dreames , Whilst thou and I delight in pleasant theames ! I 'le take my pleasure . Why should I do lesse ? I 'le be no slave to what I do possesse . Come , thou art mine ; and thou shalt find me faire My love to thee is more than to my heire ; I le spend my ' state ; a brood of brats I have Who for my meanes do wish me in my grave ; Thus farre I am resolv'd , for love of thee : When I am gone , the world is gone with me . Thou hast my heart , thou know'st I cannot leave thee : I am too honest ever to deceive thee . Hang 't , let her chat untill her tongue be weary : Care kils a cat , but we will still be merry : But yet I 'le use a trick to make her quiet , She shall go barer , and have meaner diet . And if she dye , a grave I 'le quickly make her , I love her so ; make speed , come , heavens take her .

SECT. 30. Of the woman dying with griefe ; Her Funerall . MVse dip thy quill in blood , or teares of myne Shall change thy inke , and turne it into brine : Make sad thy selfe ; and when that envious night Doth cast a vaile to rob thee of the light ( Being clad in darknesse ) then do thou begin To mend thy pen , and bring those Vipers in . Draw now thy plaint for the poore womans sake ! And for her children ; hark ! what moane they make ? Call in those neighbours that have grief , to spare , To joyne their hearts , and help to beare a share . A wife , a mother , is in such distresse ; Dry grief nor teares can never it expresse ! Let strangers come , and pitty her , and say Alas , alas ! poore soule she 's cast away ! Pray stay a while , ( for I invite you all ) T' attend her corps unto the Funerall : You should have wine and comfits ; but the cleft Is grown so barren , that there is nothing left . Griefburn'd within her , to a raging flame ; No teares were left to qualifie the same ; Being spent , she fell ; and then she easd her head ; The heaviest living ; but the lightest dead . The Nightingal did to the black bird sing , And Robin Red-brest spoke no other thing : The Thrush , the Starling of her death did prate , The Lark had come too ; but it was too late . All beasts did mourne ( but some with grief were prest ) Save one that joy'd which was a savage beast . Grave , use her kindly ; grief hath made thee gaine her ! Wormes , grumble not , but gently entertaine her ! 'T is not her fault , you have no better cheere . Call but a few ; 't will one day cost you deare : When death comes to arrest you , for her sake : You for the spoile must restitution make . Her Epitaph . VIew well this heap of dust , drop down a teare To moisten it , let every tender hart Mourne o're this honest woman ( call in seare ) I 'le praise those that begin , aid beare a part . Her husband with his whore desir'd her death , He mov'd with pitty tooke away her breath .

SECT. 31. The shamefull triumph of the Whore , the Prodigall , and the Pimp . WE having brought her pined corps to rest Hoping her soule 's alive among the ble'st . We 'll turne again , and seek the wanton 's three , The Sot , the Whore , the Pimp which merry be , And drinking wine , the Whore begins to prate : Whore . Farewell that hag , which did my person hate ; I 'le mourne in sack : now she will raile no more , Nor send her elfes to harken at the dore . She will not whine , nor can she heare us talke , Nor spy us here , unlesse her ghost doth walke : Come , drink to me , I 'le pledge it o're her grave My honest chuck ? a better friend none have ! She spit her venom , owing me a spight ; Thou wast so constant , would'st not break delight . Now thou art mine ; come , take a thousand kisses ! Black Ioane 's not here to keep us from our blisses ! Prod. My sweetest love ! thy speech is fram'd so witty With eloquence ! much like a pleasant ditty : Thy cherry lips do open with such grace , Which when I heare , and look upon thy face ; I see a Lilly doth the Rose beguile ; Sometimes the rose takes captive for a while The lilly too : thy nose smels Flora's savor , Thy eyes like Diamonds , grac't with sweet behavior . I cannot hold ! my armes shall now imbrace thee , My love , my person , and my meanes shall grace thee : The Bedlam foole is now return'd to dust ; She 'l come no more to haunt us here , I trust . Grave , keep her close ; for if thou lett'st her see The light again , I 'le make a grave for thee . Wormes , tarry not ; creep forward , and grow mad To eat her flesh ; that little that she had . Earth , shew me favour , let no moving tones Make thee deferre , but soon dissolve her bones . She being dead , and in her grave thus hurl'd , I would not see her now for all the world . Come , come my Io , let pleasure still delight us , The hag is gone , and will no more affright us . Pimp . O , bravely spoken ! Nature met with art , Acts both a Tragick , and a Comick part : So Poetlike ! Rhetoricall , and sweet , In lofty termes , grac't with a carriage meer ! A rarity grown too much out of fashion ! Sharp , sweet , unseen , and yet to vent a passion ! You speake of love so rarely , and so true , That Ovid might have come to schoole to you . But being cro'st your looks and words are sterne , Democritus is childish and might learne . Not words alone : but this I ever find You are inric'h still with a noble mind . And all your actions savour of the same , Which with consent , bring honor to your name . I taste your bounty ; and have cause to praise you ! I 'le do my best to honor and to raise you . O , happy journey ! happy'st of the rest ! When first I brought you where we now are ble'st ! For what I'promis'd then , you found no lesse : A beauty rare ! more than I did expresse ! That witch is gone , which did disturbe our mirth , A prey of envy swallow'd by the earth : The wormes are feasting underneath the ground . Now farewell Hag , thou hast thy mortall wound

SECT. 32. How the prodig all was servile to his whore ; with the condition of the Pimp . MVse , make a stop , and view those ulcer'd blaines That stink and run along their fester'd veines . The whore 's a fountaine , by whose poison'd spring This Bat , this Owle , they both do sit and sing : The Owle so soon as he hath fill'd his crop , Then of this fountaine he must taste a drop ; Though 't is infected , yet he 'l often drink , It glides so smoothly by the swelling brink ! Vnwholsome drops ! and change doth make it thicker : Yet dearer than ten quarts of whelsome liquor . The skip-jack bat , must wait to take his prey , And taste those drops ; the owle being flown away . Both birds of night : the owle he'lhave no taster : The bat's the servant , and the owle's the master , They all rejoyce : now his deceitfull whore , Doth promise love : she aimes at one thing more . She like a frost hath nipt a fruitfull head ; She loath'd her living , and she hates her dead , And so her mate , to please her do's as much . Oh! who should think the world had any such ! Vnnatural brute , to slight a loving wife To please a whore ! whose love will turne to strife ! And flattring Pimp that has no other living , But by this whore , unlesse it be by theeving , To fawne on him ( the paines of hell to lend him ) And breath his praise , when shame doth stil attend him . No greater curse , to have a villaine made To be familiar ; but it is his trade . He 's growne so brave , and if you heard him prate , You 'ld think he were a man of great estate : He 'l take a house , but if you look for rent , You are deceiv'd : 't was never his intent To pay for sleeping ; you may have his bill , Take that or nothing , pay the rent who will . For any thing , if he can get but day , The price parts not ; he never meanes to pay . Aske him for money , he will quite forsake you , He 'l pay with scoffes , and bid the devill take you . Affront a Captaine ? goe , you cheating knaves , Mechanick rascals are poore hungry slaves ! Base pesants vcx a gentleman of fashion ? Aske me for coyne , to put me into passion ? I 'le make you stay . But if you haunt his ghost , He 'l change his lodging : man and money 's lost . This whore being noted , then to hide her shame , Will oft remove , and often change her name . Amongst her names , there 's one would make her blest In lier esteeme ; a lady is the best . So takes her name , alas ! there is a man Keeps of the watch , she 'l hang him if she can , Though 't be her husband , what she can she'ldoe , Lest she her selfe be hang'd for having two . She 's coacht along ; she shortly must ( I doubt ) Ride in that box which carryes doggs about , To keep her close ; lest some undone quite by her , Should brush her coat with kanes ; if they doe spy her , 'T is good enough , but yet 't is very bald , That such a punck should like the dogs be hal'd . Her ladiship ( for so she 'd faine be stilde ) Is growne so proud , so impudent , and vilde That she will curse this coxcombe , like a slave , He durst not crosse her , she her will must have . If he by chance doth crosse her , then she 'l thunder ; He 's fearfull , silent , thus she keeps him under . Then he must beg and flatter to be sriends : This paultry whore will then propound her ends . A peice of gold , a jewell , or a ring , A scarfe , a gorget , or some pretty thing That she will have , so he must buy her kisses , Yet he is glad , and counts them for his blisses . Now he 's perswaded , she loves none beside him ; Nor from her sight , she cannot well abide him . He 'l make her honest ; was it heard before That any man could make an honest whore ? Or can a whore be honest ? then I 'le say , That black is white , and night is turn'd to day , The stones will flye , and fire will downward bend , And hell dissolve , all things amisse will mend . Nor doe I credit that a whore loves men , But sor her ends : and so she 's curst agen . His swearing is rewarded with a curse , Sweet poyson'd pills doe make his plague the worse , He dotes , and dos an Idoll of her make , But 't was more safe , if he embrac'd a snake . If one to jeare him , askes with him to sup , To see his whore , he will so take him up ; And sweare she is as honest as his mother , Or any one that will make up the other . If he a journey from her do intend , And leave for her but twenty pounds to spend , This queane then grumbles ; and her throat she 'l raise , Pish , what is that ? 't will serve but for foure dayes ! She must have more ; she is a costly sister , He had been happy , if he had but mist her . Well , he is gone ; think how she whets her braines , To serve her lust , and to increase her gaines : To shew the trade she drives with other men , Would sad my Muse , and quite tire out my pen. She chides the day , to turne it into night ; Iudge bad enough ; and then you 'l judge aright .

SECT. 33. How a Whore drew her sister to lewdnesse ; arguments on both sides . CVstome comes thick ; she cannot serve their turns , Her wil 's to do 't ; with lust her body burns . Having a sister that 's a handsome maid , By her temptations she 's at last betrai'd ; Seeing her pomp , her jewels , and attire , Brave company , the money for her hire : This silly girle , her honesty , good name , Doth put to sale ; and glories in the same . Come , take my counsell , do not be a foole , To make a purle ; for what thou learn'dst at schoole , Will not maintaine thee : and thy father's dead , Left thee no meanes ; sell , sell thy maiden-head , And be not peevish : thou may'st have a prize Will raise thy fortunes , if thou wilt be wise . The work is easie , 't is delight and pleasure ; Foole , use thine owne , and thou shalt purchase treasure ; Didst thou but know what pleasure there is seated , Soon would'st thou yeild , thou need'st not be intreated : The proverb 's true , Frost genders not with fire . To things unknowne there is no great desire . Do , be a drudge ; if thou be built for toyle , Go settle to 't : and leave the golden spoyle , Which thou might'st take , if thou would'st cast a trench : Thou wast not made to be a kitchin-wench . For divers Knights , and Gallants would attend thee , What e're thou 'dst have , rhey'l either give or lend thee ; Which is all one : what e're it be that men Do lend me once , I never pay 't agen . 'Las , what had I ? my povertie was knowne , As much as thine ; now happy windes have blowne Me golden dust : if I had been an Asse , T' have been so coy to let that season passe , What had I done ? no , no , I had more wit ; Now here thou seest , how Lady-like I sit : My table 's furnisht richly still with fare , All which comes free , I never do take care : My charge of living , plainly doth appeare , Amounts unto a thousand pounds a yeare . Be rul'd by me , I speake because I love thee , Of all thy kindred none shall be above thee . 'T is for thy sake , that I relate this story , Beleeve thine eyes , and think upon my glory . All honour me , a Knight would faine me wed , But he'res the spight , that Cuckold is not dead . What , all amort doth not my counsell please thee ? Speak , pettish foole , thy mind ; and that will ease thee . Sister , though I am poore , I hold it no disgrace , My honestie's my portion ; and my face Is not asham'd ; I dare to shew it where You cannot yours , unlesse it be in feare . With my condition , I am well contented ; Though you are rais'd , you are to be lamented ! My labour likes me ; but the world can tell , You go the way which ends at last in hell . What is your state , for all your costly diet ? 'T is true content , to have a conscience quiet . What should I do , if I commit such evill , But give my soule and body to the Devill ? What you enjoy , is all but painted glory , The repetition makes a shamefull story . Should I consent , then all that did me meet , Would blaze my shame along the open street : What e're I got , what would availe my store , When all shall point , and say , There goes a whore ? And when I dye , my sins would then out-live me ; Such gaine is losse , and what the world can give me , Can no whit coole the scalding heat of sin , Nor bribe the conscience ; but it will bring in A sad relation to increase my smart ; Then pleasing sin will prove a mortall dart . Pray urge me not , the stones your words do heare , They melt with passion , and they quake with feare . The rustling leaves do grumble at your talk , The trees do threaten vengeance as we walk . See how the grasse is now bedew'd with teares , O're-spred with palenesse , over-charg'd with feares ; The fish did spie us , as they were at play , And were asham'd , and so they slunk away . Bright Phoebus too is hid behind a clowd , To blast your counsell ; being not allow'd , The world affords no place for sin to dwell ; T'go out is worse , for'tis to go to hell . The truth ere long this sinfull world shall finde , And have reward , all suted in their kinde . What , growne precise ? what conscionable stuffe You trade in now ! I know you have enough ; Pray sell me some ; and I will pay you well , But passe your word , it shall me keepe from hell , Conscience , I think , it is you prate about : He 's hang'd long since , to put you out of doubt . You shew your wit ; is this for my reward , To get you freed ? and giving you regard ? 'T was meerly love to you that did incite me To do you good ; but ill you do requite me . You saucieslut ! is this the thanks I have To trick you up , and make you fine and brave , To censure me ? and slight me for my paines ? You 'll damne me for 't , and curse me , and my gaines . Pray get you gone , and if you cannot brooke it , A better place , let conscience go and seeke it . I 'll heare no lectures , nor be taught by you , I know enough : your counsellis so new , 'T is not digested ; never see me more , Nor call me sister , be thou nere so poore , I 'll never owne thee ; nor the least reliefe Will give to thee to qualifie thy griefe . Your Maiden-head , and honesty together , Will feed you then ; and cloath you from the weather , Conscience is but a Tyrant , at the best , And in distresse will never let thee rest . The Law of Nature bids thus take delight , And makes things meet to please our appetite . It kindles love , and breeds desire to it : Who durst say , 'T is not lawfull then to do it ? Some Bedlam Stoick did at first devise ( That wanted nature ) treason stuft with lies , To mew us up . The earth had too much treasure , When all was free ; and all might take their pleasure ? Have birds free leave to change once every yeare ? And beasts in common ' gender free from feare ? Shall we that once were made to keepe them under , Enjoy lesse sweet , in being kept asunder ? A learned Poetsutes a Bedlams dreame , And idle nurses , to the conscience theame . ‛ The lesse the better then , whence this will fall , 'T is to be perfect , to have none at all . 'T is not for youth , but for declining age , To act a winter Satyre on the stage . Frost is till then prodigious , we may do What lustfull youth and pleasure prompts us to . What say'st to this , thou froward silly girle ? Which wilt thou chuse , the pibble , or the pearle ? To live in credit ? or receive disgrace ? In some poore cottage , still to hide thy face ? Do'st love the warmth ? or do'st affect the cold ? Gaine something young , or beg when thou art old . Come , learne some wit ; my care of thee is such , That joynes with love , which makes me speak so much , Feare thou not hell , or ever to be cast From heaven : why ? we may repent at last . This silly virgin now is in distresse ! Faine would she speake ; but words cannot expresse Her troubled minde : she slides downe silent teares : Her face is wan ; within she 's full of feares . She would deny , but feares her sisters blame , She would consent , but that she feares the shame . She viewes the state , and has desire to it ; She now resolves , and yet she will not do it ; She 'd faine be gone , but that she knowes not whither , She 'l stay , then go , and yet conclude of neither . How is thy comely visage changed quite ! How is the Rose fell from the Lilly white That were compos'd so lovely in thy face ! They 're hid with teares , and left thee in disgrace . Alas ! thy griefe cannot be well expreft ! A world of care torments thy tender brest ! Thou want'st a friend ; oh ! that I had been by ? I 'd have theelive , as one day thou would'st dye . One graine of grace , is better than the world , Perfumes thy dust , when in thy grave thou' rt hurl'd . Where 's now thy courage ? think but how that gaine , That 's got by sin , will breed eternall paine : Though time be short , thou wilt out-live thy pleasure , Then all thy gaine will prove but hell-bred treasure . Why do'st thou sleepe , thou registerst within ? What , art thou birb'd ? that thou do'st wink at sin ? Or do'st thou wait ( till wrath shall cloud the weather ) For hungry death , to sum up all together ? Yet she resolves to cast those dumps away ; Though not invited ; they conclude to stay , To vex her more : till at the last by sin She strives by force , to let ill spirits in . Now she 's possest . Alas ! she is ensnar'd , Forgets the curse that is in hell prepar'd For desp'rate sinners : O! thou foole ! to sell Thy selfe , and make an entrance into hell ! She 's confident ( and will no more be crost ) Her maiden-head is sweetest , when 't is lost . For gaine she trades ; she sels ( she hath such tricks ) Her maiden-head , at least , to five , or six . When she can hide no longer this device , Then she grows common at a lower price . He leave her here , I have no hope to mend her , I wish her turne againe , or death to end her . Now for the whore which was the cause of this , She glories in 't ; there 's nothing done amisse In her conceit ; her heart is like a rock ; And she 's as shamelesse as a senslesse stock . To this preferment hath she brought ther brother , To make him whiskin , and deceive the other . But now this letcher is return'd againe To court this whore , but more and more the staine Doth take impression ; for she hath bereft him Of all his honour ; and his friends have left him . Alas poore man ! thy pleasure and thy ease Do make thee senslesse : but a worse disease Doth creep upon thee , than the world can bring . After the hony thou must have the sting , And at the best thy honey's mixt with gall ; And with the bait thou tak'st the hook and all . What , past all cure ? let conscience speak thy shame , Then shew thee hell , and parch thee with the flame Set all thy sins in habit , like a devill , In battell ray , to fright thee from this evill : Let every beast , where e're thou dost him see , Shew that thou art a truer beast than he ! And all men still that do upon thee look , Put thee in minde of that great Sessions book , By which the world is try'd ! and let the earth Slight thee as much as any monstrous birth ! And let the warblers of the aire now speak To thy disgrace ! the clouds with fury break , Drop down revenge ! the heavens fixed eyes Blush at thy presence ! and the lofty skies Look pale upon thee ! let those moving powers Present thee wrath ! and let all fragrant flowers Bow downe their heads , still to thee let their smell Be like that brimstone , which does burne in hell ! Let every creature sound ( as being taught ) This is the man that sold himselfe for nought ! His whore and he begin to be so slighted , They cannot walk , unlesse they be benighted , But powted at : and all their meeting places Deny them shelter , sham'd to owne their faces ; But spue them out : their lodgings oft they change , Being wearie of them ; and a thing not strange , Shame still is constant ! and it growes much stronger Like evening shadows that are ever longer , The neerer night ; and at all turnes it takes them : Keepes closest then , though their best friend forsakes them , Those little Wags , that meet them in the street , Will dog them home ; and then they will them greet With Whore-master , with Pander , and with Whore ; They try their skill to drive them from the dore . To purchase freedome , they must draw their swords ; Those knavish boyes will not be still'd with words .

SECT. 34. The ruine of the bawdy house , with its appurtenances . THe house breakes truce ( for it is dayly tir'd ) Because for bawd'ry it was never hir'd . And being frighted ; 't is growne strange and bald , In feare it shall a bawdy house be cal'd . So with consumption it doth pine away , And being distrest , invites the night to stay , To hide its shame , it 's vext for what it did , And being guiltie , it would faine be hid . The roofe that hid them , fals into a swound : And by degrees drops downe unto the ground With griefe , that ever it should be so vile , And in revenge , it chides away the tile : Gives warning that 't will stand no longer under , They fall with feare , and so breake all in sunder , The morphew wals are growne so bleake and thin , They have ( through anguish ) Iost the outward skin . Alas , poore house ! 't would grieve a man to see That everiestorme should take revenge on thee ! The candi'd frost doth make the sore encrease , Nor milder warmth will once admit of peace : Because they kept them from the raging weather , Their pun'shment is , they must rot together . The guiltie windows batter'd with assaults , Repent , that e're they did conceale their faults : The stones , the winde , do bring it so about , That by degrees they pick the quarrels out , Blaze forth their shame , and witnesse now bring in , That with consent condemnes them for their sin . Faine would they speake , but cannot speake aright ; The lead's so heavie , and the glasse so light . The chamber-floore doth sink with deep conceit ; And doth disdaine to beare this sinfull weight . One side blames th' other , and they part in splcene : Which parting seemes a little hell betweene ; Time does refuse to quit it from the staines : The more 't is washt , the more the filth remaines . The bed-stead screcks , with sad and doleiull tones , And vents complaints , being over-charg'd , it grones , Seeks to be eas'd : the head doth blame the feet , The feet the sides ; the testerne that doth see 't , Doth start for feare , that it must beare the blame , For winking at , and cov'ring of their shame , Doth change itselfe to sundry ugly shapes , To fright from sin these vile lascivious Apes . The posts do vex , which do abate their strength , And grow so feeble , that they fall at length . The curtain rods ( what honest man did forge them Do now conceit that they were made to scourge them . The hooks do hold them that they cannot do it ; So they are guiltlesse , being willing to it . The rings that run these curtain rods along , Before were silent ; now they find a tongue , To pratle forth their shame : and do disgrace them ; Though they are brasse , they cannot yet outface them ; They are not freed , the canker runs about , Without , within , to eat the substance out . The curtaines too 'cause they were eas'ly drawn To hide their lust , and did upon them fawn , Now shrink away : their colour quite doth change As being sharers ; i's t not very strange That senselesse things , should be asham'd of sin , And suffer for 't ? the moths do now begin , To seek revenge , and make of them a prey , And are resolv'd to eat them quite away . They do but Iustice : so do all the rest That haunt their ghosts : for they to war are prest . The bed is thought to beare the greatest blame , That did with patience underlay the shame : The tike complains the feathers are so light , As they at noone are so they are at night . But they reply , and very well they may Confesse they 're light ; but not so light as they ; They must not chide , being gentle , milde and soft ; But when they came , 't is prov'd they grumbl'd oft . They shew a reason why they blame the tick , They could not flie out , 'cause it was so thick . The cordis question'd ; being rack'd below , Begins to yeeld ; what ever it doth know , Now blabs it out ; receiving many checks , 'T wold needs be loose to catch them by the necks : But being crost , it cannot vengeance do , It swels with malice , till it breaks in two . The pillows which did bear their musty pates , Do sret with anger , 'cause as coupled mates , They gave them ease ; but now they do deny it , They smell the rot , and do at last defie it . The sheets are found more guily than the rest ; For why ? in them those vermin made their nest : Their shame 's made open , for the secret sin Which they must own ; they look both black and thin , And fear that penance they must do at Pauls , When e're their partners go to purge their soules . ( Time eite 'em in ; judge , is 't not very fit For all such persons ? shame may teach them wit . ) They 'd turn to many to remove that curse , And tie the penance onely to the purse . If 't he not likely to be brought about , They 'l fee the washer then , to wash them out . Shall innocents thus suffer in their places , What they deserve ? and quit them from disgraces ? Nor can I cleare the coverlet or quilt , From being sharers in this hatefull guilt , That overlookt them in their curst delight ; And was so carelesse , be it wrong or right : 'T was never mov'd to vex 'em ; let its shades Dwell still in Newgate , or with Bridewell jades , Where shame 's in use : the Cut-purse too shal crave it ; Then let the dunghils cast lots which shall have it ! The stools , and chaires , when on them they do sit , Doe trembling fall into an aguish fit ; The table mournes for bearing of their meat , Which feeds their lusts : it 's weake , the burthen great The posts , that did uphold this house so long , Begin to sink ; if they had but a tongue , They 'd beg for pardon , promising no more To prop such basenesse , or defend a whore . Sed , sactum est ; though now they do abhor it , They with the rest are like to suffer for it . The ashie wormes shew justice , ever when They have crept through , they creepe cleane through agen , Eat out the strength that 's seated in the heart , Quite past recoverie , ' though they feele no smart : Sharp execution ! 't is their bawdie hire , Iust fit for nothing , but for flaming fire . The groundsell being tender-hearted stones , Do pine away , and change , like dead mens bones : And melt with teares : faine would they shrink away , But finde no passage ; so are forc'd to stay . They chide the lime , for holding them together , And ha●e the men that first did bring them thither ; They being sorrie ( when the cause is tri'd ) Shall have this favour , by the high-way side , They still shall stand , as monuments of shame , And shall bewray the place from whence they came . But now the dore , for being often lockt , Which made them fearlesse ; being jeer'd , and mockt , Fals in a palsie ; open then it flyes , Cals out in passion , to invite some eyes To see their folly ; but the hooks were crosse : She hinges ( fearing they should suffer losse ) Part from the dore ; the lock is chiefly shent , ( Being pliable ) 'cause it did give consent To come and go , with turning of a hand , Much like a Pander : and did all withstand That would oppose them in this cursed way . But then the lock layes blame upon the key , For forcing it to whatsoe're it did ; The key had freedome , but the lock was hid . The wrangling key pleads , keeping much ado ; The nailes were forc'd , yet they were guiltie too : They loose their hold ; the hooks , and hinges sever , The key is gone ; the lock does his endevor , To purchase freedome : th' dore as faine would cleave In sunder ; but , it cannot yet get leave : For execution in a worser kinde , ( Iustice decrees , not long e're he shall finde ) Must be his doome : the lock , hooks , hinges must Dye with the nailes , a lingring death with rust . The key 's pursu'd ( though it be stept aside ) With Argus eyes , and shall be strictly tri'd , When it is found , as chiefly guiltie in 't ; And then this story shall be put in print . These hatefull Brutes now frighted are away , By these extremes ; but cannot go by day ; For Sol disdaines to give them any light , And they 're asham'd to come in peoples sight ; Nay , silent night ( though shamelesse ) would not owne them , They are so vile , had she before not knowne them . Darknesse prepares for each a sable coat , Vshers them out , unto a place remote , Owles tune their organs , as they go along , The Screech-Owles cries are mixed too among : The nimble Bats do frisk along before , The Polcat's call'd , and he brings many more . The subtile Wee sell followes on behinde , And nightly Beetes singing in their kinde . The Mouse was wisht , but would not help to place them ; Welfare the Rat , he came , but not to grace them . Well , gone they are ; but whither , who can tell ? My Muse wants sente to track them by the smell : Nor is it wholsom : yet to cleare the score , If they amend not , the will tell you more .

SECT. 35. Of a Countrey Clowne , being cheated with marrying of a whore , &c. A Home-bred Clowne , that had a good estate Left by his friends : but over-rul'd by fate , Which wrought his woe ; but well he did deserve it . Read but the story , then you may observe it . This silly Clunch did love a handsome Lasse , Love , did I say ? no , but to let that passe , 'T was but in shew ; as afterwards appear'd ; Or lov'd in jest ; in earnest he was jear'd . She 's confident on 's love , though fancie tremble , She learnes to love , and he how to dissemble . This Maid had beautie , honestie , and wit , And portion that might well become , and fit A better man : none of the former three Had heat all ; so true a Clowne was he . Her love exceeds ; alas ! 't is out of season ! When love gets head ; it is not rul'd by reason . The match goes on , in time they have agreed it , All men conclude , the heavens have decreed it . And then the day of marriage is prefixt ; Her love 's intire , but his with falshood mixt . Why she lov'd him , l'elsay the best I can , Because the did ; or that he was a man ; And he had cause to love this lovely Maid ; But fooles want reason : so this foole 's betrai'd . The Sun had looked on him with his power , And tann'd his skin : his countenance was sower . His goggle eyes , and rich enamel'd snout , His brawny cheeks , his lips , or what 's about This trunk of treasure , I will not discover : But how he woo'd in 's progresse , how this lover Obtain'd's desire ; and how he was deceiv'd , And how he was of all his friends bereav'd . By accident he came into a place , A man of note did shew him there such grace , He was transported ; for he knew not how , To carry ' himselfe , save onely at the plow . He was not guiltie of a jot of breeding , But full of flesh ; and that he got by seeding . He saw an Imp there , ( and her face was painted ) Who was a whore ; and for a whore was tainted : She was his prospect , and did glut his eyes , His minde with surfets did both fall and rise . Sometimes he 'll blush , and sometimes have no colour , Sometimes he 's quick , as quickly he growes duller . He walks about , and then sits downe and muses , Then speaks his minde , but clownish as he uses . Zur , ' c have a zecret to make nowne to yow , Pray zhow ma vavor , on I 'll tell you trew , How stonds my case ; I c have a wounded hart , That 's peirst quite through : for Coupid throw'd his dare . Here is a wench , I think hurbe be his zistur , Hur looks dud ravish ma , whon I had kist hur . My heart dud zwell , my head dud vall a aking , My eyes mare dazeld , all my limbs stood quaking . I con't tell how , my tongue was zilenst quite , My honds ware manacled ; yet wee delight I think upon hur ; but I connot rest : Had I but hur , oh ! how zuld I be blest ! If hur wooll ha'ma , all that ere I have Zail be hur joyntur , much I wo not crave , Bezides hur loave ; vor I'chave welth onouffe ; ‛ C have lond , on cattle , houze , on houzo'd flusse . On all things vitting vor a contry mon. Zur , woll you zpeake on help ma whot yow con ? He heares , and ponders , and this lovers tale Does take effect : she being grown so stale , She stinks to most : but to the Clown her smell , Seem'd sweet ( though ranck ) and pleasd his humor we ! This Man of note consid'ring this , reply'd , Be not dismai'd , thou shalt not be deny'd , If I can steere the helm ; put on , and try , Perhaps at first ( being modest ) she 'l deny : Take no repulse , her love in time will yeeld ; When thou hast conquer'd , triumph in the field , She 's such a one as nature doth intend To make a patterne of ; I must commend Thy wit , thy choice ; her carriage is compleat , Her breeding's rare , and her behaviour neat : Her gifts , her parts do adde a comely grace To all the rest , her pleasant smiling face Doth usher in such glory that the sun Is quite ecclip'st before the day be done . Her eyes being bright , ( the beames with shame returne ) They charme the fire , as 't hath no power to burne . Why speak I thus , to put a heat to fire ? Love , must have love ; that satisfies desire . I 'le make the way : Iove give thee good successe ! I wish the winged god may do no lesse ! Thus having blaz'd her Fame , what 's now agreed She was in show ; but not at all indeed . He never told ( in this he much did faile ) Her body was too heavy for her taile . Nor of her painting on her wrinkled face , Nor how she was to all her sex disgrace . Nor of her living , which was worse than bad , Her trading brought in all the meanes she had . Then he unfolds this matter to the whore , She tels the bawd ; her sister , and before They do admit him , they consult about him , She 'l leave the man , and have his coine without him . But then the spokesman vomited his mind : Though he 's a Clown , yet thou maist find him kind : He 'l dote upon thee , let thee take thine ease , And go , and come , and do what ere thou please . He 'l not be jealous , he has not the wit : But thou must rule him , and thy humors fit . He 's rich , and thou shalt always keep his treasure : Thou' art wise enough to use it at thy pleasure . Come , be not coy , seeing fortune gives a call , And for his faults , know , gold will cover all . Take something certaine ; thou know'st what to do , Please but this foole , and keep thy trading too . When he was silent , thus the quean began : What shall I do ? this countrey Clown , who can Affect his person ? he so like a foole Behaves himselfe ? 'las , he should go to schoole Before he seek a wife , and learne some wit To make a husband , ere he will be fit To know himselfe ; and such as are above him , He is so clownish , I shall never love him . But if i could be married to his land , And leave his person , then I 'de give my hand , And strike the match , with heart and free consent : I live at pleasure , and have full content Without controule : if he should marry mee , He 'd mue me up : with those that come to see My chang'd condition ( how socre I sped ) I quickly should grasthorne upon his head . Your love I tender ; but the Clown I hate , And think it scorne that he should be my mate . With that the bawd grew angry , looking fierce , Begins to speak , but cannot well rehearse Her mind in words : but when the storme was past , Her tongue broke loose , and thus she spoke at last : What do'st thou flight what love to thee doth proffer ? Art thou so curious to refuse an offer That might inrich thee ? I 'le not thee importune , Thou art not like to have so good a fortune If thou refuse him ; be not thou so nice ; If once deny'd , he may not aske thee twice . His clownish carriage , thou maist help to mend it , And cover all his faults , if thou'ltintend it . Come , he is wealthy , stand not in thy light : The pleasant'st day may have a cloudy night . Riches bring honor , fortune doth it send , What freely comos , thou maist as freely spend . Though he be hidebound , thou maist make this Clown Consormable ; and bring his temper down . When thou art old , thy custome and thy trade Will quite decay ; already thou do'st fade . He 'l not mistrust thee , thou maist take thy time , And use thy own whilst thou art in thy prime . Say he should think that thou didst do amisse . Poor man ! he 'l wink , or salve it with a kisse ! If thou shouldst have a man discreet and wise , He 'd track thee out ; for wisdome's full of eyes . If he be poore , his wit will not maintain thee ; Thou wil● repent ; thy friends will all disdain thee . Reject him not , although he be a peasant , A country life , with wealth , is very pleasant . As she concluded , in then came the suitor , So brisk , as coming newly from his tutor , And kist them round , as he was taught to doe ; Yet still a clown , and clownishly did woe . Thus he began : Zweet hart , I loave that , woot tho be my wife ? Zay , const tho like a bonnie country life ? I ne're zaw anee I cood loave like thee , Nor ever zhall : zhow then zuch loave to me ! Thine eyes are charmes , thy vavor do's invite ma , Thou hanzome duck ! O let thy , oave requite ma ! Zpeak wolt ta ha'ma ? if thou me deny , I zhall be zick , on zicknesse makes voke : die . I thou t to night'chad bad that in mine armes , But whon I woke , I ch'was bewicht we charmes . I do embrace tho oton in my dreames , But tan I vinde'tis nothing but extreames Of loave , and veare , of hope , on passions mixt , which genders griefe ; dezpaire ztonds us betwixt . O pitty ma , and caze ma of me zmart ! Tho hast abawme woud cure my wounded hart : My wealth , my goods , on whotzoere I ha , Sholl be thine own , com , do no zay ma na . This crafty slut knowes how to make her game , She 'd seeme to blush , but that she wanteth sharce . She screws him up unto a higher pin With silence and delayes : now she 'l begin To speak her minde ; Kind sir , I must be bold To breath a doubt , your love 's too hot to hold : Nor am I willing my estate to change ; This thing call'd love , to me was ever strange : Nor can I brooke a silent country life , I 'm far unfit to make a Farmers wife : I cannot toile , bake , brew , nor serve your swine , Nor trudge to market , no , nor milke your kine ; Nor such like things , which suits not with my breeding ; But where you wooe , I 'de have you go a speeding . And for your love I thank you , and am sorry You dream of joy ; but waking spoils the story . If you are sick , alas ! you must endure it ! 'T is not my fault , not have I balm to cure it . What 's wealth ? much care a marr edlife doth bring ; I le n'ere submit to such a foolish thing . You lov'd another , let her be our bride , And so adieu , good fortune be your guide . So slunk away . With that in haste he turn'd himselfe about To view the passage ; which way she went out He could not finde , but changed like a ghost : His minde perplext , his spirit sunk almost ! His heart in pieces now is like to break ; He swels with griefe , so that he cannot speak : Thus he continued , though a little season , Yet in that time sense rob'd him of his reason . But she relates his wooing all this while ; And how she answer'd , made them all to smile ; For they agree'd that she should only try him , To prize her more , not that she should deny him , For fear he 'd change , and never more to crave her ; For well they knew none but a foole would have her Then in they came to comfort up his heart , But she was absent ( that did breed the smart ) In policie , which made him grieve the more , But she to listen stood behinde the doore ; She 'd see th' event ; her frowns did speak his doome If she appear'd she was a living tombe ! But she was call'd , the matter was debated , How he lov'd her , why he of her was hated . They urg'd her to 't , faine they would have her married ; She now resolv'd , but presently she varied . But to be short , they 'd not have him deluded , They joyn'd their hands , the match is now concluded . But now to shew how he embrac'd his choice , 'T would make you laugh ; and how he did rejoyce ; What he appointed for the marriage day , ( 'T was thought the savour did his love bewray ) How he directed . Going plodding out To tell his fortune , as he lookt about , He spi'd the maid that lov'd him , told the story Of this great match , and the intended glory He 'd have at 's wedding ; how five hundred pound He had in promise ( but not one was bound To see it paid in money ) nor a jot I feare will ever fall unto his lot ! This harmlesse soule , in hearing this , reply'd , False-hearted man ! with griefe her tongue was ty'd , She spoke no more ; her eyes dropt silent tears , Her colour chang'd , her mind 's distrest with fears ! Her heart was swell'd , it would dissolve , but when It sent out teares , griefe call'd them back agen ! Sometimes hot feavers seem'd to take fast hold , Then frosty agues made her shake with cold ! Sometimes the spring spreads beauty on her face , Then comes the autumne which doth it disgrace ! Time gave her respit to renew her strength ; The clouds blew over , thus she spake at length . What is truth banitht ? or is she asleep ? Is faith in morgage , that thou wilt not keep Thy promise made ? will conscience passe for coyne ? Death is corrivall of this heart of mine ! My heart is breaking , but it grieves not thee , Forwhy ? thou bring'st me to this misery ! Now , now , thou leav'st me , and thon break'st thy vow , Which God nor Nature ever did allow ; To cleave to one that is to thee a stranger ; Thou dost my welfare and thy soule endanger . In wronging me thou dost thy selfe no right ; Take heed , I feare she is a graine too light . She 's coacht with gallants up and down the street , Judge then the rest , and shew thy selfe discreet , To doubt the worst . Why , do I spend my breath , But for my Bride-groome , constant , gentle death ? Then down she sunk , as if the day were come To solemnize the wedding in her tombe ! The wormes her guests ; they modestly will keep Their watch , while she doth with her bridegroom sleep ? But raising up her breath , as from the ground , She then reviv'd , for it was but a swound . Then spake this clown , 't was all the wit he had ; Whot ailes theiz voole ? Whot art ta turning mad ? Or dost dizemble ? I wooll not believe that , Not I , but losse of whot I ha' do grieve that . Dud I make promosse to tha ? woo dud heare it ? Come , do thy worst , na troth I wo not veare it . I thave a zweet heart , though thou zaist hur's light , Hur vlesh is vast , hur's high on big ; thy spite Breaks out agenst hur , vor thy noze do zwell : Hur's vaire , of Cowpids kin , I leek hur well . Hur's handsom , yong , well bred , on monstr us witty , Ther s ne're a viner wench in all this zitty . A great huge potion : god omighty zent hur . I love hur mainly , on I zball content hur , With money , gouds , ond londs , with pigs , on kine , My zelf on all : I c have hur hart , z'has mine . I chom o happy mon : whot ere thou zay . Thus having spewd his mind , he runs away . Poore tortur'd Virgin ! how art thou cast down ? Grieve not to leave this false hard-hearted Clown . Thou lov'dst too soon , too much , and out of season , Call home thy love , let sense be rul'd by reason : Submit to what the heavens do decree , Which have in store a better a atch for thee . Thy heart 's so bruis'd it bleeds with inward paine ; But gentle time will make it whole againe . For better objects keep thy love in store , Thou shalt be blest ; he vexed with a Whore . But now my Muse , for pleading on thy side Will lose the love o' the Bridgroom , and the Bride : She weighes it not , nor will the flatter any ; She hates a bribe , and knows a foole from many . Now they prepare against the wedding day ; ( Though not invited ) she intends to stay To see the service in a corner by : She 'l view the couple : now the time is nigh , Althings are bought , both of them rich apparrel'd , But coyne was wanting , and the Taylor quarrell'd , Now they are marri'd . To shew the manner of this solemn feast , The butchers meat , the fowle , and how 't was drest ; Or name the guests , or those that did attend them , What was their own , or what their friends did lend the , What choice of wine , his waiting on the Bride , What cost this feast , what paid for sauce beside , I 'le not relate it , 't is too long a story : Blame not my Muse , she 's not a grave for glory . But having din'd , he said his fathers grace , And pray'd the Sun to drive away apace , And whip the steeds with fury to the West , For in his sight but halfe could he be blest . His spirits mov'd him Morpheus to invite To spread his cloud , and haste to bring on night . Black night being come , he went with 's Bride to bed ; He had his wish , but not her maiden-head . My Muse left them , t' enjoy what from love sprung , For she was modest , and she lost her tongue . Their nightly pleasures smoothly glide away , And night is forc'd to give place to the day . Her tongue 's restor'd to shew their griefe o'th'morrow , Exchang'd with joy , unto the Bride-grooms sorrow ! What he took up on ticket , or the score , For this great feast , and what he ow'd before , Must now be paid ; he cannot well deny it ; His marriage coine , he can as ill come by it ; Yet safe enough , for it is out at use ; ( So forawhile this was his chiefe excuse ) Where , no mans knowes , nor when it shall be paid , The bond is cancell'd , or it is mis-laid . He was deferr'd , ( it was a cruell spight ) Vntill Dooms-day , at six a clock at night . His Creditors ( as Bees about a hive ) Doe haunt him still , nor is he like to thrive ; His costly mistris keeps him low and bare , Which makes this clown run almost mad with care . His spokes-mate , or the pander doth finde out Where 's money to be lent ; 't is brought about That he shall have it ; for it , all are bound , But when us paid , he onely can be found : The other are Non-Residents ; their trust Is to deceive . But pay it in he must ; For they 'l be gone ( for this they must have fees ) Bats have their holes , and Owles have hollow trees . But having took their pleasures here a while , The tide runs low , for time doth them beguile : Downe in the Countrey they do haste away , 'T is time , for here it is too hot to stay . They take their leaves ; the farewell of this whore , Made him an Oxe , that was an Asse before . Away they went ; their welcome was but small , Their comfort cold , as good as none at all . His friends had heard how he cast off the Maid That lov'd him and was by a whore betrai'd ; How he had spent his meanes , and was in debt , How he was gull'd , and how at first they met : All their proceedings , how she promis'd large , How 't was deferr'd , and how he bore the charge Of all their feasts : his mother first 't was spi'd them : Course entertainment ! she began to chide them ! What hast thou done ? thou foole ! hast sold for nought Thy selfe , thy fortunes , that thou here hast brought A noted queane ? take her away with thee ; I 'll never harbour her : if thou canst see , Go read thy folly . Shall thy fathers name Die in disgrace ? or live in open shame ? What! bring a whore ? go , I will never owne thee To be my child ; all hate thee that have knowne the ? They were perplex'd , this unexpected change Gives foule affront : the salutation's strange . Then went he to a sister that he had , ( A marri'd wife ) and there they sped as bad . It was so noysed up and downe the towne , That Simpleton had brought a Hakney downe . No comfort there ( his friends were turn'd his foes ) Nor any where : then back againe he goes , Fill'd with displeasure : yet of none lamented ; Griefe joynes with care ; he 's now grown discontented ; He lives retir'd , fast bound unto his crosse ; He thought to win , but he comes off with losse . Now , he perceiving how the game doth goe Still more against him : faine he 'd breathe his woe , But brinish teares prevent him : to the smart He must be ty'd , which cuts him to the heart . Nor help , nor ease , nor succor , nor reliefe The earth affords , to mitigate his griefe . His Doxie now he cannot well digest , She cloyes his stomack that he cannot rest . To ease himselfe by thinking of a change , 'T is but in vaine : his case is very strange ! And finding his estate consume so fast , He 's quite disgrac'd , his parts fall out at last .

SECT. 36. The disagreements of his members and faculties . HE , all amort , was walking in the street , His legs , they took exceptions at his feet , For being forward in this hainous fact , They are adjudg'd , and censur'd for the act : 'T was prov'd they striv'd which first should keepe his time , And both are equall guiltie of the crime . But then the legs as guiltie are accus'd , They bore the rest , and let them be abus'd ; Yet still were silent ; nay , they did uphold The faction too : and being stout and bold , They would not yeild ; but ever trudg'd apare , With hasto to bring their Master to disgrace : And yet too flow : for when this Iade did sit Neere unto him , they would not stir a whit . They were submissive alwayes in her sight : They'd bow to grace her , seldome stand upright . They 're doom'd , through stiffnesse , not to bow at all ; Or else with faintnesse , if they bow , to fall . They blame the knees , which first did bring them to it , They 'd quickly bend , and force the legs to do it : For temporizing , turning every way , And flattr'ing him , although he went astray : Yet true to her , for they would never faile , But still with patience beare her stinking — They take distaste , and lay it to the thighs , Pleading , by them they were deceiv'd with lies , They being strong , the other being weake , Perswaded were ; their friendship thus did breake , And fall to strife . The hips are faultie too , For being acquainted when he did her wooe : They soone agreed , that they should make a match ; It plainly shewes that they did mischiefe hatch . They 're sentenc'd all ; the hips , the thighs , the knees Must now consume ; the flesh must by degrees Waste from the bones ; the bones a drying lay , The sinews shrink , yet cannot shrink away . The newes of this would fright away the marrow , But 't cannot run , the passage is to narrow . What neere adjoynes , I would not have it nam'd , The cause is foule , that all would be asham'd To heare it pleaded ; let it silentlye . But let the reines come answer here what I Lay to its charge ; it ever bred that fire , Which gender'd shame , and stirr'd up vile desire : It mov'd to ill , and fed that lustfull streame , And rock'd this wretch into a golden dreame : And ready was to usher in all lust , Provoking him ; and did betray the trust It had in charge : and tooke occasion still How to bewitch him , yeilding to his will . So shamelesse ; it was never knowne to feare her , But did rejoyce , when ever it came neare her : The censure 's sharp ; the gangrene and the gout Must search the sore , and eat the matter out . The back , for joyning close unto this part , Assisting it , is like to feele the smart : Th' back blames the belly , that it made it strong , Receiving food , which did maintaine it long In all this businesse : pamp'ring was the reason , That it did further , or conceale the treason . The belly finding , how it was back-bited , For all its kindnesse to the back : how slighted : Began to grumble : and would hold no meat , But still grew angry , when the jawes did eat . You 'd think him blamelesse , and might well be quitted ; But he is guiltie , and must not be piti'd , Maintaining all against his Masters cause ; And is condemn'd according to the Lawes . Then next appeares the liver , and the lungs , They 'd shift it off ; but , for apparant wrongs , Who can excuse them ? th' lungs are chiefly shent , For they did move to further his intent , By fanning breath : the liver kept the blood , Which nourisht vice , which might have been a flood , To drowne his lust : consumption is their lot , For this offence : the bowels they must rot , For being false , and joyning on their side : It was a cheat , it cannot be deni'd . These bend their envy all against the heart , He is delinquent ; and must beare a part Of miserie : for it was false before To one of worth : but constant to this whore : And was so soft , that it would swell , and melt , And in her presence still high passions felt , With strength of lust ; It must despairinglye , To see all doom'd : that last of all must dye . Death , Sergeant-like , must straine upon his breath : If'twill not yeeld , it must be prest to death . The armes are bound to answer to the charge That 's brought against them ; for they did at large Spread out themselves ; still willing to embrace her ; They might have clos'd ; but would not once disgrace her . 'T was treacherie ; and yet they did agree , To make a snare , brought him to miserie . They answer not , for each distracted stands : But yet at last , they lay it to the hands , That drew them to so foule a thing as this ; They seem'd to grieve , that e're they did amisse . The hands did hold her often while he kist her : And were like lime-twigs ; else he might have mist her . They were like pullies ; holding would not fade ; Nor would they loose , untill the match was made . The armes , the hands must suffer all together , Hang down they must ; the blasts & storms of weather Must shew them justice ; all the time they have Now to repent , 't is but to scratch a grave . They blame the head ( there all the senses dwell ) That gave consent ; 't is cleare it was not well To overlook , and yet to be so rash , To gull him with such stuff , and musty trash . The braines had chiefly paid for 't very deare ; But 't was not not known that he had any there . But then they taxe the noddle , and the scull For covering all the plot , though he was dull , And let things passe at randam : never thought On 't till his master gave himselfe for naught . The punishment doth fall upon the haire , That moults away ( the scull behind 's left bare , ) For lying still , it neverstood upright ; Nor summon'd feare when this hag came in sight . The eares that did receive all false reports , And keep out true , were tickled with such sports , And surfetted in hearing of her praisd ; Till she was won , the siege was never raisd . They 're bound to heare his ruin , and withall To beare a share ; then not to heare atall . The nose mistooke ; it could not smell the rot , But all seem'd sweet ; now stinking is it's lot For that offence ; the eyes are hated more ; They spy'd her first , and ever went before , To usher in the rest with much delight ; But they were dim when she was out of sight : And did connive her faults ; her painted face , With what was ill , they counted as a grace . They were the spies to watch and bring in Newes , Be the're so false ; the heart they did abuse With misconceits ; they were feoffees in trust , Ill overseers ! drawn away with lust ! They did dissemble ; any one would think They closd with sleep , when as they did but wink . They'd never rest till they had brought about This fond attempt : all this is out of doubt . The judgement 's past : they must be drown'd in teares In open view , that he that sees , or heares , May warning take : then dimnesse must o're take them , And by degrees their sight shall cleane forsake them . When fruit is gone , then leaves shall stay behind To shew the reason why the eyes grew blind . The tongue is deeply guilty in this case , For flatt'ring first , and then to be as base To give deny all to that maid , t'whome he Had been engag'd : 't was plaine hypocrisie . By it the secrets of the heart were broken , Had it not been for this , none would have spoken . It blabd abroad what ever it did find , Though ne're so closely seated in the mind . Such was its force , it might have all control'd , And broke the match , if 't had been wise and bold . It made the motion : then the rest about it Did yeeld : the match could not be made without it . No art but this ( he never went to schoole ) He'ad learn'd to sell his master for a fools . He 's sentenc't publique to confesse the crime ; Then to be silenc'd for a little time . And when he speaks , to faulter in his tale , Imprison'd I , then not capable of bale . The fault 's so great : being bound unto the peace , His jaw's the grates : but if it get release , It speakes true nonsence , that 's the legall sum : Then greif , and shame at last must strike him dumb . But now the chaps , for opening at a beck , And let him prate at randam without check , ( The teeth did snarle , and bite flesh guiltlesse , long , Yet for this fault ne're snarl'd nor bit the tongue . ) ( They were confederates ) there fore 't was no wonder The chaps must fall ; the teeth shall drop in sunder . Nor is the throat found innocent : for why ? The voyce had freedome , though't ne're did deny The breath a passage ; sounding out the note . Rough , hot , and dry's the censure of the throat . There was a sine laid on the subtill breath , Sentence adjourn'd untill the day of death . Now all the members , feeling smart , are greived ; They cast a plot ( in vaine to be releived ) Against the intellectuals ; malice breaks : The heart indites , and every member speaks ; And plead , they govern'd them , and ever when They mov'd them , 't was as Devils move in men . They could not stir , nor bring forth such events , But still were forc'd , and us'd as instruments . All that they did , was by the livened soule Devis'd , and acted ; who did all controule . This is in justice ! can it equall bee , That we should suffer ? and the soule go free ? Search out the cause : is it not very fit Those parts should suffer , and we should be quit ? The Vnderstanding 't is , that 's first arraign'd ; The charge is heavie ; for they all complain'd , How he deceiv'd them : never tri'd the case , But gave consent that Will should take his place : Which , like a Tyrant , quite suspended Reason , It might more freely plot and work this treason . What he propounded , all must yeeld unto it : Or else must suffer , if they would not do it . Be 't ne're so bad , none must dispute the cause , The Will will stand , and crosse all humane Lawes . All 's currant coyne ; what e're it did erect , To chuse this whore , the other did reject . It made the match , and every thing 's done by it ; This is not envie , nor do I belye it . Th' affections , like to pages , fore-most run , That should be hind-most : having ill begun , As ill drive on : with haste they turne to passion , And roaving bring the members out of fashion . They slight , and hate , where they should truly love ; And love amisse ; stand still , when they should move . Lust steeres the course , the compasse-rule is Sense , Conceit 's the Pilot ; no man knows from whence These Furies come , nor whither they are bound : Though they are out-law'd , they are ever found Most busie , with the rest , to all that 's evill ; As if they had their lerry from the Devill . Their censure is ; the Vnderstanding's lost ; Or by the Will it shall be ever crost In all designes ; and carried like a slave , And be a vassall , nor can freedome have . The Will for so inttenching on that part , Against its will , must undergo the smart , To be imprison'd : neverto be free ; To do , or not to do ; 't is miserie To be so servile ! yet here 's no remorse ! Though 't will not bend , yet this will breake its force . Th' affections lose their strength , nor can they taste What 's good , or bad , the senses are laid waste : Or if they move , it is not like that ever They should attaine to what they doe endever . Thus parts , and members in their kindes are fitted ; With shifts or pleadings none of them are quitted . With one consent condemned as they stand , They beg reprive , and blame the guiltie land . They make it plaine ( but if he hear 't 't will mad him ) That was the cause , or else she had not had him . He could not move her , till he brought in that : All leane conceits ! he took her with the fat : That did the decd ; and promi'st more contents Than he , or all his clownish complements . It is decreed that some must morgag'd bee To pay his debts , the others that are free , The Vsurer shall tye them by a band , Which forfeited , he 'l straine upon the land . The feeling Lawyer too , must have a share E're all be gone . This emblem of true care , When all is spent , can he live on the rest ? His hope dies first ; for warning 't is express .

SECT. 37. Of a handsome cunning Whore , that had the Pox , and how she deceived her husband ; and how she died . A Citizen , who had deserved Fame , ( His honest dealing raised up his name . ) The world did smile upon him : he was blest With wealth , with credit , and above the rest He priz'd his wife ; her carriage seem'd so sweet , So full of beauty ! and her words discreet ! So free from choler ! she was milde , but witty ; In all appearance , none in all the City Was more compleat ; but see , such was his Fate ! None in the land , was more unfortunate ! Though she was faire , milde , young , and seeming wise , Her heart was false ; her husband in her eyes , Was undervalu'd ; she was fraught with cvill . Her out-side 's faire ; her inside's like a Devill . 'T is strange dame Nature should be so o're seen To give a beauty fitting for a Queen , And keep all vertue back : can she dissemble Her dowry thus ? 't may make all beauties tremble ? Or is she mov'd with spleen ? or to enthrall The Faire ? then dame , give vertue none at all . Or is she blind , to think it is her duty To give some vertue , and the other beauty ? O , part them not ! how sweetly would they shine Both being mixt ! how lovely , how divine Will be the lustre ! are the best exempted From beauty , 'cause she 's loth to have them tempted ? Or do's she work by owle-light ? or has she Sworne vertue plainly to deformitie ? Or vice to beauty ? keep them in some place , Or vice will rob true vertue of her grace . Here I could lose my selfe ; but I must turne Vnto the Whore ; now she with lust dothburne , And takes her time to walk about the street ; If any letcher do's this Harlot meet , Few words will serve ; she 'l quickly give consent , Those ways of darknesse , give this whore content . Nor do's she stand upon 't , though she be sine , And he but bare ; nor do's she trade for coyne ; She wants not gold , or any thing beside . But in a while she was so Frenchifide , That hungry Gall had seized upon her flesh , Her colour 's pale , that formerly was fresh : And through her flesh it gnaws upon her bones . She to her husband in these mourning tones Exprest her minde ; alas ! I am not well ? My flesh is sore , the Doctors cannot tell What is the cause : my bones do ake , my hears Is growne so sad , poore I do feele the smart ! I feare a deepe consumption has possest My vitall spirits , in my grieved brest ! I 'm melancholy , keeping so within , I seldome go abroad to see my kin . I doat upon a husband , too too much ; I cannot chuse , alas ! my love is such ! You do not care if death should take my life ; Then farewell Peg ! you 'd have another wife Within a month . I cannot long remaine , Vnlesse I have a cure for my paine . The Bath , I understand , is verie good , To ease my griping paine , and purge my blood . If any thing , 't is onely that can do it , If you 'l consent that I shall go unto it . This honest loving man , did ne're distrust She had the cankers that was bred of lust . No spark of jealousie possest his minde , ( Say , is 't a gift , that Cuckolds are most kinde ? ) He thought her vertuous , she to him did passe For every thing , save onely what she was . And thus he answered her . How am I griev'd for thee , my dearest Love ! Thy paine is mine how doe my bowels move ? And melt with true compassion ! and my heart Is swell'd with sorrow ! oh ! the hidden smart That 's gendred in my brest ! my teares are bent , To pant it out ; but griefe affords no vent ! Thy words doe overcharge me , so that I Am like to sink ! my joy with thee will dye ! What 's all I have to thee ? what 's my endevor ? Thy life , thy death will make , or matre me ever . O! cruell pitie ! shall I have delight So short a time ! will Fortune shew her spight ? And rob me of my love ? thou art divine , Flesh cannot long keepe such a soule as thine ! The Angels envie earth , for they will come , And fetch thy soule ; and Fame will make thy tomb , As lasting as thy praise . How do I call My Genius up to pitie this my fall ! O! let me yet enioy thee ! and I will Slight all things else , but glorie in thee still . Go to the Bath , here 's gold and money store ; If thou gain'st health , I never shall be poore . He would have went himselfe , or sent his man , But she repli'd , no ; do the best you can , Look to the maine ; expences will be large ; I 'll go alone , and that will case your charge . Good company are alwayes going downe ; And if you will but bring me out of towne , I aske no more : but pay the Coach-mans fee , And he will take an honest care of me . She 's coach'd , and gone ; but he is discontent : And these good wishes after her he sent : Let that swift Mover , that o're-looks the sky , Move gently now ; and let the runners by Smile sweetly on her ! Sol , give her thy grace ! Although she has more beautie in her face , Than thou hast in thy prime . When stars have gaz'd Vpon her beautie , let them all amaz'd , Yeeld her the praises ! let the spheres below Melt with desire , when once they do her known . But never prate , or tell the horned Moone , Sh' ecclips'd the beautie of the Sun at noone Lest she should hide her face , with envy spight her . And flinck behind a Cloud , when she should light her . And let the wanton ayre be so discreet , Not steale her breath away to make it sweet . But let the earth boast ( rising one degree , ) For bearing such a lovely saint as she ! Let not the plants with emulation strive ! Or swell with lust , wish to be sensitive ! Put let the flying quire learne how to sing : Her Odes , her Eulogies ! I 'le imp the wing Of him that sings it best ; as they begun , So let their discords into Concords run . How can the horses drawing her along , But march in state ! let them though they are strong , Obey her words : yet let 'em take such pride Not to draw coaches by the high way side , Like hackneys any more : but serve some Lord , ( Their worth will then be known ) that will afford Them better keeping . Let the Coach still rest ; 'T has done enough in carrying such a guest . And let the Coachman , though he be a Clown , ( 'Cause by his care he carry'd her safely down ) Be raisd to such preferment , that he may Find by experience what a happy day It was to him ! let low conceits no more Take up his mind : he never had before Such credit in a journey ; such a blisse ! Oh! how he triumphs that he hap't on this ! Oh! if the Bath can once but give her case , And ground of hope , to cure her strang disease , ( Though I am absent , yet'twil'swage my paine ) And winged time , but bring her safe againe , How happy shall I be ! these thoughts do give Such sweet impressions that my heart doth live . Come home my joy , and banish hence my feare ! I dream'd to night , and thought I had thee here . This slut being at the Bath , findes no releife : ( It never cur'd such a desperate griefe ) She thought some villaine that was yong and fresh , Would have imbrac'd her care'on rotten flesh , And cover'd shame with sin . Oh! hatefull thought ! Nay , for her money shee would faine have bought A sin at second hand . Hell 's not agreed To bring a patron for so foule a deed . All judg'd for fowle : such Imps are seeming-wise , Her face wants colour , nose , lips , teeth , and eyes Betrai'd her hopes ; some had much money spent her , The P : did fright 'em and they would not venter . She 's fowle returned , newly from the Bath ; And talkes of going home , but mist the path : Yet she 's contented ( though she knows 't is wrong ) The bawdy-house where she at first was stung , Did entertaine her : they'ad renew'd their store ; The sp'rits were gone , that haunted there before : The gall : or empty purses drew them thence , And now this whore hopes for a recompence . Her face was painted fresh , and she was bold ; Sh 'had rich attire , and she was full of gold . At last a Novice comming newly in , On purpose to commit this cursed sin , ( The Devill having stole him from his Master ) He paies his entrance ; and he 'll be a taster Of blasted pleasures : when this whore had spi'd him , She cast out jests , and smiles ; the more she ey'd him , The more she lik't him ; ( thought she ) this 's the man That must free me from shame , if any can . She held him in discourse , and found his mind : Then he rejoycing that she was so kind , Grew impudent ; being taken with her sight , Yet feares to speed , because his purse was light . When she perceiv'd it , then she gave him gold , And what he lov'd , she wisht him to be bold , And call for'tin ; they supt with dainty fare : All sorts of wine they had ; nor did they spare For any cost ; this Novice did exceed : His seeming heaven prov'd a hell indeed . They having supt , to bed they went together ; He thought good fortune did direct him thither . She blest her selfe , and thought by this endeavour , She should be cured of her shame for ever . These varlets lay more ground work for their sorrow , My modest Muse will come againe to morrow . The night they spent in lust : but when they spide The mome begin to dimme bold Cynthia's pride : They must be gone , seare call'd him first away , And Chanticleer the trumpeter of day Sounds out alarme , he wisht againe the moone But curst the day , because it came so soone . Why dost thou bring this bold audacious light Within this roome to fright away the night ? Must I , must I be subject unto thee ? Th' unwelcomst guest , that ever came to me ! Thou art a teltale , and a makebate too : Why com'st thou , but to spye what we here doe ? Goe back againe , thy shining visage shrowd In some close cell , or else behind a clowd : Stay there a while , that I may have my ends : ( A small request ) and then we will be friends . But light 's impartiall , finding things uneven , Reveales the truth , because it came from heaven . Ere they doe part , they point both time and place , To meet againe , he thought it such a grace To be esteem'd as worthy of her love : Hee thought the gods had sent her from above . Now home she 's gone : for me to shew what cheers He did provide , to welcom home his deare ; How he imbrac't her , how he did rejoyce , And how he praisd his fortune in his choice ; How they discour'st of what she did endure , And how he pittied her , and of the cure Of her unknowne , and dangerous disease , How he reviv'd , and how his heart had ease , And how he praisd the Bath , and was content With all the charge , and money that she spent , And how he gave her more ; I need not shew it : Nor is 't to any purpose if you know it . Within three dayes , the time was come about , He at her garden house do's find her out . Five pound in gold she gave him ; yet was she In debt to him for his last curtesie . He muz'd at this ! yet thought it was to gaine him ; Sh 'ad costly fare besides to entertaine him . Such queanes as this , do make the ayre stink , And crush their husbands till they make 'em sink . This codshead then rejoyct , thinks all is well , But yetere long , he felt his members swell : His bowels ake , such griping in his bones , That all his language was exprest in groanes : His colour chang'd , the dimnesse of his eye With 's filtring speech you might his grief discry . Then to a Doctor went he , for a Drench , Who ask't him where he met that pocky wench That had so paid him ? but he 'd not reveale her , She made him sweare , that he should still conceale her . He to his mistris did his grief discover , Who told him that she 'd be his constant lover , And gave him gold ; but at another time She brought him fifty pounds ; ( this fils my rime ; ) And told him , that she 'ld make her purse strings crack ; Although her husband did , he should not lack . Five hundred pounds , said she , I will provide ( Against thy time is out ) for thee beside . But he refus'd the proffer'd fifty pound , Lest he should in a golden streame be drown'd . But he must keep it , till that he had need ; And so they parted , being both agreed . She long continued in this shamefull course ( Before she was found out ) wtthout remorse , She desp'ratly her husbands goods did spend ; Her time , her strength unto a hatefull end : Although it was perceiv'd how she did fall , Her husband would not see 't ; love cover'd all ; But more and more , her vilenesse did break out ; Her sin , her shame , fame had so spred about , H'was forc'd to heare , and see ; his heart did say , Come quickly death , and take my life away ! How am I crossed in my chief delight ! Come , come and hide me , with the shades of night 'T is but a boone to take away my breath : The life I have is but a living death . More had he spoke , but passion was too strong ; Teares made him blind , and grief attach't his tongue . This cunning strumpet in her craft is caught , And now she finds that sinfull pleasure's naught . Her old disease consents to quit the score : Then down she fals , and leaves her husband poore . Her Epitaph . HEre 's painted vice that did deceive the world , Her lust had caused cankers in her throte ; She dy'd upon 't ; and in this grave was hurl'd . By this you know she was a whore of note : 'Cause she was light , and full of wanton mirth , She 's cloz'd about with heavy-hearled earth .

SECT. 38. Observations from histories , of lascivious persons , but chiefly from the collection of Cornelius Agrippa : abridged now for this purpose .

De vanitate Scientiarum .

NOt only now , but in the ancient times Whores have been common ; and those loathson crimes Have been esteem'd ; the' AEgyptians did devise With shew of worship , how to sacrifice To Priapus ; and Rome did still allow Of Brothell houses : may not we see how The shaveling Priests , leane Friars , fat-back Monks , Did joyne their dwellings neare the filthy puncks ? Houses of Nunnes are often private Stewes For common harlots ; they devotion use To shelter sin ; and hooded Monkes , and Friars May match the worst , that are lascivious liars . Heathens did think , 't was policy in state To suffer whores ; great Solon did create A law to quit them ; Apollo in those ages Did reck on him one of the seven Sages : T is proved by Philemon , and Menander , ( 'T is strange a man so wise should prove a Pander ) Yong men might have their harlots : he first did Erect that Temple ( where such queanes were hid ) To wanton Venus ; they were priz'd in Greece , They without feare , their customers might fleece . When Perses Realme began much to decay , In Venus Temple they were set to pray . In Corinth they did use that very thing : And Ephesus of infamy did ring : For faire whores , they did raise up sumptuous building , And praised Venus , when they found'em yeelding . Wise Aristotle had a great esteeme Of common strumpets ; he by sense did deeme Them fit for honor ; he did so much prize His Hermia , and Ceres ; sacrifize . He offer'd to 'em . Venus was the first That us'd this art in Cyprus ; many durst By her perswasions , to commit this sin , Yet she must be a goddesse . Hell broke in Then unresisted : Maids did go astray By custome still , before their marriage day , To gaine a dowry : but they gave a see To Venus first of their Virginity . The Babylonians did allow , that all That were decai'd in goods , or were in thrall , Should give their daughters to the will of those ( What ere they were , or be they friends , or foes ) That would relieve them ; for Aspasia's sake , Pericles did great battels undertake . Lampridus saith , an Emperor of Rome Did keeps a house of whores , when 's friends did come Vnto his feast , he 'd make 'em freely eat , ( What he provided , was provoking meat ) According to the number of their dishes , So were their whores ; the 're bound to reape their wishes . For bawds , and whores , so much he did esteem them , That he from death , end prison would redeem them , He call'd them soldiers ; and he gave them pay : But chiefly when he found them at the play , He 'd shew his bounty : she that lov'd the art , And was most skilfull , did possesse his heart ; And any Mattons that did love the pleasure , He 'd free 'em for 't , 2nd pay 'em from his treasure . Cirena , in this way did all excell , She was surnam'd the gulf of lust , or hell . Proculus did deflowre in one night Ten faire sweet Virgins ; with his cursed might In fifteen dayes , a hundred he did force : This Lord of Pluto's never had remorse . The Poets faine that Hercules did more , H'of fifty maids made every one a whore Within a night . Sappho is guilty too , ( A Poetresse ) cause she did Phaon wooe . Metrodus concubine , her wit did bend In writing books , her whoredome to defend . Leenath ' Athenian , would not name her friend , Though tortut'd on a rack her life did end . I wonder hell should such a temper give ! To save another she deny's to live . Rhodope that famous Quean did get so much ( A thriving whore ! time found not any such ) As built a Pyramis ( in dust she 's hurl'd : ) That still abides a wonder in the world . Thais would never trade ( that faire fac'd beast ) Except with Kings , or Princes at the least . But Messalina ( being an Emp'rours wife ) Esteem'd her lust as pretious as her life . In Stewes she did the rankest whores exceed , Though strength did faile , desires still did breed . What need I speake of Joane , the Naples Qucene ? Or other Gallants , that would sin unseene ? Or of faire Iulia ? or that Monarchs lust ? Or Pasiphae ? and how the plague was just ? How many great oncs were by such meanes got ? How some were cool'd with curses , when th' were hot ? How Kings have left their Queens ? how divers more Have been bewitcht , disgrac'd , undone , made poore ? What looks , and gestures , words , and hot embraces , Bold strumpets use ? you 'l finde them in their places . Lais the whore , was prais'd by Cephalus , And Nais extolld by Alcidanus . Most of the ancient Poets ( more or lesse ) Did wanton folly in their songs expresse . But Ovid more , to his Corinna writes The praise of lust : more sully he indites I' th' Art of love ( or else the whorish Art ) To paint out whoredome ; strumpets had his heart . In other things do his wit applaud ; But yet in this , what was he but a Bawd ? Octavius for it banisnt him from Rome ; Let bawdy Poets here have such a doome ! Such poy son'd pamphlets heretofore were burn'd ; And all the Authors out of favour turn'd . Let Masters banish them out of their schooles , Lest they corrupt the youth , make them prove fooles , The learned Plato , from the Common-wealth Did drive such sinners ; 't is against the health Of nations , persons ; Rome sometimes did renew Their priviledge , when Flaminus they slew , With divers more : with blood they purg'd this crime , This sin grew out of fashion for a time . Of this fowle fault , who ever guiltie is , Shall finde it apt to give him what is his . The womans lust doth differ from the men , The young from old , the rich from poore agen . The Countries too , just as they are enrag'd , So to their lusts they 're diversly engag'd . Mans love is fervent , womans obstinate , Young men are wanton , old men purchase hate , Poore with their service , rich men with their gifts , The most with feasts , the roaring Sparks with shifts . The Gentlemen with maskings , sights , and playes , The barren wit in painting out her praise . The Italian doth dissemble with his love , With verses he 'l applaud her still , to move Her to affect him : then he 'l jealous grow : Without a watch-man , he will not allow Her libertie ; if he cannot obtaine her , His tongue shall vent out spleene , and he 'l disdain her . The Spanyard , in his lust , will much desire His mistris ( with complaints ) to quench the fire . And to obtaine her , he 'l adore her much : When he hath got her , then his minde is such , Through jealousie he 'l spoyle his ; or agreed , She must be common to releeve her need . If she denies him , he 's much discontented , And like a fiend before the time tormented . The French man , being hot , seeks to obtaine His wish with songs ; if jealousie his braine Doth once possesse , he doth lament his case : If he 's decei'vd , he 'll raile and curse apace . But if he gets her , long he will not prize her , He 'll love another , then he will despise her . The German being cold's rais'd by degrees To love , by art he strives , and then with fees . If he mistrust her , he will ne're abide Her company : his heats soone qualifi'd . The Frenchman loves in shew , the German covers , The Spaniard doth conceit that all his lovers Are conquer'd by him . Th' Germans love comes to 't , But still he puts in jealousie to boot . The Frenchman loves a wench that 's full of pleasure , Though she be foule . The Spaniard has his treasure Laid up in beauty , be she ne're so rude . But she that 's bash full'st in the multitude , Doth please the Italian ; the German doth embrace Her that is bold , and hath a brazen face . The Frenchman turnes a foole , being obstinate ; The German he growes wise , when t is too late ; The Spaniard to gaine favour in her eyes , Will undertake some mighty enterprize ; The Italian will such dangers undergo , As if he 'd have her where she would or no. But are not Britaines with these vices mixt ? They borrow all , and weave their owne betwixt . Great persons were besotted by this vice , As Hannibal , and Claudius ; Caesar twice . Achilles for his Brises stopt his fight . Marke Anthony was wounded with the sight Of Cleopatra : many more were brought To end their dayes ; some first , some last , all naught . How were the people that were once belov'd , Curst for this sin ? when stormes of wrath were mov'd , They were not quickly laid ; some were undone , And by this meanes were Nations over-run . And many wives were by their husbands slaine , When law was out of use ; oh hatefull staine ! And men for this were murder'd by their wives , And for revenge they sacrific'd their lives . The motherly law in Althea was so chang'd To cruell hatred ( and her minde estrang'd ) She slew her sons , and whoredome was the cause That she and others broke strict natures lawes . Who can digest it but an iron breast ? A wife , a mother here is tur'nd a beast ! But bawdry that doth patronize this vice , And draw them to 't , and sets a higher price , As youth and beauty differs : ther 's exprest A middle sort betwixt the worst and best : It hath the helpe of many arts to draw , And pleads a custome from the heathens law . Nor is it like the cobwebs taking flies , But feathered fowles are taken for a prize . Not onely beasts that winter hath made bare , It takes the pamper'd with this subtill snare . The civill young man , and the modest maid , With matrons , wives , and widdowes are betray'd . To helpe this Art there 's many a thing in print , Young bawdes may learne , the old are perfect in 't . The art of Grammar , how to speake and write , Doth much availe , love-letters to indite , With quaint expressions , flattering words , and moanos , With Verbs and Adverbs , Adjectives , and tones From Interjections . Women must beleeve They joy i' : their presence , in their absence grieve . Then next to this comes wanton Poetry , To teach the pen to act adultery . With Fables , Pastorals , Epigrams in rimes , Stoll'n from old Venus , to infect the times . And in our dayes , some Poets are as bad That foster bawdes , their wits do make them mad . Some have to please a puffe-past , or a punck , Employ'd their frothy wit ; and being drunk ; He that can of his snuffe spawn out a brat , He 'l swear there is no poetry like that . You must be sure his praises not to smother , He 'l pause awhile , and then belch out another ; Drink twice about , and fill him up his glasses , He 'l be the man , the other are but asses . The Orator comes very close behinde , With eloquence he ravisheth the minde , And helps the bawd with language to perswade ; But some historians more prefer her trade . What 's Lancelot ? Tristram ? Adrialus ? Or Peregrinus ? or that of Calistus ? Such want on stories often have such power , That wives are lost , and maids they do deflower . She that can frame discourse of such things best , In City or in Court , above the rest , She is esteem'd ; this , and another suiter Sue forher strongly , yet she is a neuter . But who would think that Logick should give help And milk to nourish such a venomous whelp ? The foule it makes seem faire , the black seem white , The wanton modest ; that which gives delight ( Be 't ne're so bad ) 't will set upon 't a glosse To cheat plain truth , at last it bears the losse . And musick is a servant to this Art ; But wanton singing beares the greatest part : Vnsavoury catches do the minde transport , Then fleshly lust is counted but a sport . Ale-meetings are as help , for there they may Have freedome to embrace , to kisse and play . The tripping Lasse that doth so smoothly glide , She 'll catch her prey ; in corners then they 'll hide . Lascivious pictures give to lust a wing , Venus , Praxitiles , Cupid that wanton thing , Corrupted Alchida ; one being deni'd Fortune for 's money , by the picture di'd . Wise Aristotle did so much abhorre it , He 'd have the chiefe inventer punish'd for it . The Geomancers , telling fortunes , dreames , With Soothsayers , they raise men to extreames . Astrologie and Magick hand in hand Do bring in lust , and modesty with stand . Potions there are , and drinks bewitch'd with charmes , Some lost their lives by 't , others brought to harmes . Physitians have beene guilty , they can come At any time into a private roome , And work their ends , and then without a fee , They 'll promise to restore virginity : To keep the paps from growth ; besides he will To do her pleasure , make her barren still : That she securely cursed sin may hide , He 'll dawb the ruines o're of madam Pride ; And colour harlots , make them fit for sale , And starch up pock-holes ; books do tell this tale . Some herbs are found that will increase desire ; Ovid made boast how oft he quencht his fire , And yet it flam'd agen ; a famous Poet ! Not sham'd of sin , but all the world shall know it . Vnder the shew of Physick , divers do Vndo themselves , make others guilty too , Eudemus with Livia had his will , And Drusus knew not : Messalina's ill Was hid awhile , that Claudius could not finde But she was sicke ; to lust she was inclin'd . Bold Aristippus having Thais , that whore , At his command , when others kept the dore , Did vaunt upon 't , when others spent their state 'Pon her , she keeps him at a lofty rate ; Then sensuall things he strangely did applaud , And this Philosopher did prove a bawd . And handy-crafts of women drawes some in , If they embroider , weave , or sew , or spin . Some carry gloves and girdles ; with a toy Such plodding queans do oft poor maids betray : Thus they begin , but when their labour 's past , They 'l set up bawdry , having first a taste . Brave exercise of great ones hath obtain'd Vnlawfull love ; as Romulus once gain'd The Sabine women : so AEneas did By hunting win faire Dido , being hid From his companions . Iupiter did use Shepherds for bawds . It is undoubted newes That Mariners to Venice bring rich fraught , And retaile Merchants in exchange have naught . Sumptuous banquets often have enflam'd The blood with lust , then men were not asham'd To shew themselves like beasts : as Virgil writes In his AEneids ; time curst such delights . Ther ' are many other things which doe agree ( To paint a whore ) to helpe out bawdery . Or all enchantments ( yet I dare be bold ) Ther 's none of them can be compar'd with gold . The jealous man with gold is soone appeas'd ; The simple cuckold , if with gold he 's greas'd , Is pacifi'd : the watchman's overcome , Gold opens gates ; the private sleeping roome Is enter'd by it ; gold takes part with mones , Charmes , locks and bolts , and conquers bars and stones , Nay , gold hath oft dissolv'd the marriage knot : Some have been raised by it , ( such a lot ) His wife being faire , that he 's become a knight : Another rogue to please a Lords delight , Hath been advanced to a place of state . Another he 's unhappy-fortunate . An out-worne varlet , that was very poore , Hath been advanc'd in marrying of a whore , There 's history that plainly doth declare That Priests with Nuns ( although they had a care To goe to shrist ) have been as bad as any , And at their shriving have deflowred many , Whose soules ( to heaven they pretend to gaine ) They sacrifice to hell and lasting staine . They thinke it sin to marry lawfull wives , But not a sin to lend lascivious lives . A ruler made his boast , ten thousand fines He had from Priests which kept their Concubines . In former time in Rome they did decree ( For Venus temple , and for bawdery ) That in the day men follow , whisper , venter To aske , to kisse , to promise , and to enter Without controle , in house or postern gate , And reap their vile desires , being late . Put feare and shame aside , and banish sadnesse , Vse oaths , guile , violence , deceit and madnesse . The husband cannot know what child 's his owne , Yet he must reap what was by villaines sowne . But Iulia , that feighing subtill trull , Tooke no strange in-come , till her ship was full . The heathen gods , and persons of great worth , By practise and permission did set forth The bawdy art : as Mercury and Pan , And brave Vlysses , though a noble man , Was prov'd a bawd : Pope Sextus did erect A noted stewes , and whores and bawds protect . Those that did rule their church , did reckon in Their constant gaines , that issued from that sin . A common proverb up and down did go , He payes his ducate , keep a whore or no. In any kingdome swolne with avarice , There 's nothing ill that is a golden vice . A woman might ( her husband being gone From home ) for money live with any one , And ne're be question'd . Countries were opprest With heavy burdens : Princes were distrest . Such that defend it , say , t is to prevent A worser ill , to give young men content . If from a kingdome whores are took away , All married wives and maids would go astray , And widdowes too . What case is that place in Which cannot stand unlesse 't be proptby sin ? Who is 't but knowes , within the holy land Whores might not dwell ? how strongly did it stand , Till they broke in 't ! but after 't was betray'd , Fell by degrees . till it was quite destroy'd . The Nicholaits , they to avoid distrust , Did give their wives in common to the lust Of any man ; lost nature was their guide , They thought they had religion on their side . Those rulers that gave way to 't , and consent , Though they no letchers were , the punishment Shall find 'em out : I wish that all may hate This gulfe of hell , before it be too late ! He that 's above and sees , and holds his tongue , The world shall know , will not be silent long .

SECT. 39. Of a company of Roysters comming to a Stews , and chaffering with the Bawd for the Whores , as men doe for Iades in Smithfield , &c. WHen that blacke tyrant that doth joyne with night , Had chas'd away Don Phoebus from our sight , And took possession of his lofty seat , Though light was gone , he left behinde him heat ; Some is contracted , which both flames and burns , Time has decreed , that they should reigne by turns . The lesser eyes of heaven did finde out ( When night did rule , and strive to bring about ) Vnmatch'd devices : from prodigious birth , Proud Pluto's Captaines do derive their mirth . ( The turnings of the clew ) shame did discry A market made in hell ; my muse and I Are now at ods about it ; her request Is , that she may goe free , or else be prest To overlook the market : I am bent To give her leave , and further her intent . Black dammee Iack , bold Dick , and high-way Ned , ( They were no scoundrels , they were better bred ) Came to a house of fame , they would have bought They knew not what ; when they their money sought , The Indies had it , for their climate's cold , They could no silver keep , nor harbour gold . No entertainment there ; so they were faine To lose their labour , and goe back againe . But shortly after , having money store , They camy agen ( he first would chuse his whore , Whose purse was fullest ) then they call the bawd , And rouse the pander up ; both being aw'd When they had shown them gold ; we 'ave money now . Come , bring your jades , you cannot but allow Vs here to drive the price ; let 's see your ware ; Iack. But bring the best , dam me , I never care If ware be fresh , and good , what rates I give ; I am no foole , hang 't , every trade must live . Give me a jade unrid , that 's plump and fat , With dainty colour'd hayre , for I like that . Dick. Give me a lively marc whose limbs are strong , For she 'l performe a journey though 't be long : Quick-sighted , nimble , with a tender flank ; Not of the highest , nor the lower rank . Well joynted , free from spavins , with a breast Broad , large , and comely , with a dainty crest . Ned. Bring me a beast that 's wilde with wanton rage , Her grinders white , her mouth must shew her age ; A little head , her havre I 'le have her owne , With rowling eves , her face not common knowne . Well hipt , round-buttock'd , with a good strong dock , Her forefeet small , a curious fetter-lock Vpon her feet behind ; she must not faile ( To grace therest ) to have a bee some taile . Set not too high a price ; say what you 'ld have ? I le give it freely ; this 's the Iade I crave . The Bawd commands the Pander to bring out Her pamper'd colts , that they may trot about . Well trim'd , and bridled up ; they may be sold This market day ; or hired out for gold . Now here they come ; and one among the rest , Being yong and handsome ; on this pretty beast Iack Damme sets his mind , he does enquire What for a journy , he must pay for hire ? The Bawd replies , I sweare , she is not crackt , She 's only skittish , having ne're been backt . Sh' has no defect , ten pounds to me is due , But yet I 'le have but halfe so much of you : In hope you 'l use her well ; pray lay her sost , She will not faile you , if you walk her oft . Iac. Pray let me try her , for I never durst Give so much coyne , unlesse I tri'd her first . She may be broken-winded , blind , or lame , ( Trub turne about ; speak , is not that her name ? ) If she should faulty prove , my money 's lost , My time ill spent , I in my journey crost . Three pound 's enough ; I 'le give you halfe in hand , If she performe the businesse , then command The restat my returne : my journey 's short , I 'le drill her on , the travels but a sport . Come , I 'le not stand with you , you are my friend , And customer ; pay , take her , there 's an end . Then dicing Dick makes choice , he cannot find ( In every part ) one suiting to his mind : At last he 'spid a neat one , faire in shew , She had no fault , but that she was too low . Pray mistris Bawd ( said he ) what is your price ? In faith ( said she ) she has been backt but twice , She 's every way compleat ; upon my word , As sure as all the Countrey can afford . Three pound 's the rate you must give for her hire , I 'le pawn my life , that she shall never tire . Here 's twenty shillings ; when I come agen , If she proves right , I 'le give the other ten . Well , take her for this once , pray use her well ; She 's somewhat choice ; where she did lately dwell , She fed on candid provender , her thirst Was quench'd with Spanish water : no man durst Attempt to back her till he gave her gold ; She was too full of metall long to hold Her spirits in , without a golden show ; She 's small , or else sh' has no defect I know . You may be friend me , when the gamesters win Good store of gold , then do but bring 'em in To see my pretty rogues , that 's all I crave , I will requite thee , thou thy choice shalt have Sine pecunia . Quack , no more ; I 'le bring Home mony-blades , that love to sit and sing All care away . Come , little Tib , thou' rt mine , And for thy hire I have paid a fine . Now rustick Ned , at last he viewes , to see Among the Iades , if any lest there be , That he can fancie ; one he quickly caught , To know her age , and then he spies a fault , Her mark was out ; then he began to doat 'Pon one broke-winded , ratling in the throat ; He did not like ; againe he turn'd his eye Vpon another , but he did discry Her hip was fallen , with a rotten rump , Her taile quite spoil'd , left nothing but a stump ; Another had the glanders , some the fashions , All were defective ; then broke forth his passion Against the Bawd ; you do me much abuse ! Must I take trash which other men refuse ? Is 't 'cause you think my pockets are not full ? Or do you think me such a simple gull , That knowes no difference ? clowns indeed are wise , They ride not late , or seldome early rise To goe a journey : but at Christmas next I 'le take my time , I shall be th'rowly vext If I should misse a boon , that shortly will Fall I know where ; pish , I have money still To pay a double fee : bring forth a Iade , And if I like her , we shall quickly trade . Pand. There are but three in all , two are not able To worke a jot , nor yet come from the stable : One has a tympany , she 's swell'd with fat , The other has been lately over h'at , Which makes her ill ; the third indeed is strong , As true as steele , being active , sound and yong : Her colour will not change , she 's perfect black , I le take my oath , she 's mettle to the back : But she 'l be costly , she will alwayes eat The purest manchet , and the daintiest meat That can be got : and for her drink you must Give her French water , mixt with Indian dust : Foure pound 's the rate to you , you are my guest , Though you chose last , ( in troth ) you have the best : Come , here she is . Pray give me leave to speak , What ere you say , me thinks her dock is weak : Her neck is thin , flat hooft , her back 's too long , And out of flesh too , how can she be strong ? My journey 's easie , but she 'l rise an end , And falldown back ward under any friend . Here 's a Iacobus , with all faults I 'le take her , She will performe the task , or else I 'le make her . If she be gentle , ready still to stand , I 'le walk a foot ; and lead her in my hand . Bawd . Well , take her on these terms , and when yo'ave met With a faire booty , do not me forget , But bring me coyne , and quaintance ; I 'll have care To hide the fault , so I may have a share . Nothing but mum ; I hope ere long you 'l say , Of all the rest , that Ned's your dainti'st boy . The Bawd is pleas'd , the Pander has his fee , They having baited , they did all agree To take their journeyes ; out they set together , Being mounted on the furies ; then the weather Began to change : the Devil he runs by ; What need they ride on post , when hel's so nigh ? If Iustice strike , they in as little while May light at hell , as one may ride a mile . Great Pluto's Post-master , if any tire , At next stage he wil fit 'em : for the hire They need not care , he 'l trust : another day , When all their journeys end , he 'l have his pay . The metall'd beast , as black as any coale , Doth faulter first , for she is prov'd with foale . Tibs grease is melted ; and the Farriar must Shew all his Art ; they leave her to his trust . The young one too is founder'd in the belly , And all her blood is settl'd to a jelly . Iack sweares Ned's mad , nor doth the gamester win ; They 're faine to leave these cattle at the Inn. But taking fresh ones , they againe set forth , And steer'd their course point-blank unto the North , With furious speed : their way they cannot misse , 'T is hcls broad way ; they may be there by this , If they return'd not ; they have Natures Sun To give them light . Farewell , the market's done .

SECT. 40. Of a fearefull Iudgement that happened in the city of Angers in France upon three men ; La Fontaine , and two other ; how they lay with the Devill , and how they dyed . WHen low-born Morpheus with his swarthy face Had chac't the day into another place : With blind conceit , declaring to the sight To match himselfe to that sad Queen of night : The fixed stars deny'd to give consent , But hid themselves , being fill'd with discontent . Though silent night had hush't the earth ; a sleep , Yet hags did walke , Owlesfly , and serpents creep . Sleep that was kin to death , laid some to rest , Lust that was kin to hell , had some possest . Among the rest , three gentlemen ( whose worth Was not worth naming ) newly comming forth Into the street , straight one of them began To speak , ( but judge was 't like a gentleman ? ) You know my boys , how freely I did eate Of that made dish : it was provoking meat ; It warmes my blood ; and summons up my lust , To seek some Curtizan : ye faith I must ; I boyle , and burne within ; who can endure it ? 'T is a disease , a youthfull sin would cure it . Boone cavaleres , le ts seek about for ease , I know you 're both so sick of my disease , As I am now ; there are Stews in this Town ; We 'l have the wenches , or we 'l pull 'em down ; I m confident , should I a Devillmeet Shap'd like a woman , walking in the street , He shall netscape my hands ; but I would try If he had flesh , whe're he would with melic . ( Alas ! poore Sodoms Imp ! thou 'lt quickly know Him from a woman when you meet below ! ) Come Noble blades , walk but along with mee , I 'le find a present remedy for all us three . Be you but bold ; and then we need not feare , ( My ride's too strong for flesh and blood to beare ) If we should misse t' attaine a wench with words , Then let 's be valiant , and draw out our swords . We 'l neither beg nor steale , we will but borrow A curtesy ; we'llaugh , and pay to morrow . Thus said , a we man did appeare in 's sight , ( A page before her bearing of a light ) Compleat in show , so beautifi'd and faire , Her eyes did light and pierce the clouded aire . To whom this fore-man , thus begins to prate : 'Save you faire Lady ! walk you here so late ? I 'm mov'd with pitty , who can chuse but moane Your sad condition , walking here alone ? Accept me as your servant ; none shall wrong You by the way , if I but walke along . I am a Gentleman , and 't is my use Thus to preserve faire Ladies from abuse . Grant me this favour , cast a smi'e on me ; Had I your love , how happy should I be ! Then she repli'd , sir , this your sweet behaviour , Your love , your care , your undeserved favour You shew to me , deserves more love than I Shalle're requite , untill the time I dye . But whil'st I live , I 'le ne're forget to prize Your kindnesse : to requite you I 'le devise . I was by sriends invited to a feast ; ( Although , I say 't , I was the chiefest guest ) They were so over joyed with my sight , We could not part till twelve a clock at night . My husband 's gone from home ; if he should know That I was out so late , he 'ld snuffe and throw . Much like a Mad-man ; if you did him sec , As you' are a Gentleman , you 'd pity me ! Home I must go , if he 's at home before , He 'l brawl , and fight , and kick me out of dore . 'Pon small occasions , he will raise up strife , He 's still unkind . I live a weary life ! They hearing this , did think it was the lasse That they did seek for , many words did passe Amongst them all ; her words did give them strength , And drew them on : with one consent at length , They ventur'd out this blast : Sweet mistris , never feare , for you shall find True friends of us ; soloving , and so kind , As ever Lady did ; our lives , and all Shall lie at stake : to free you from this thrall . The churle shall know that we will take your part , And rub his gils : and when he feeles the smart , He 'l grow more tame : pish , hang this froward foole , We 'l find a trick to make his fury coole . A jealous coxcombe ! we may hit the veine , And let him blood ; then that will help his braine . Then by and by a key her page drew out , Let them into a roome , all hang'd about With Taffata : the colour perfect yellow , A fire in 't , where they did think to swallow Their pleasures in by grosse ; soon she was drawn To prostitute her selfe ; when they did fawn , And praise her beauty ; she did quench their fire ; Each one of them fulfill'd his vile desire . When they had found such full and sweet content , How faire she was , how soon she did consent ; They judge her as a prize of wonderous worth ; She scorns their coyne ; they set her beauty forth The more at large . Much kindnesse they would do her , If she 'l but grant they may come often to her . Their pleasure was but short ; yet in that space They prais'd her limbs , her hands , her eyes , her face . Then thus she spake ; why do you now rejoyce In this your sudden and unwary choyce ? What have you gain'd now , but a horrid prize A shew of goodnesse , which will prove but lies ? Then one of them reply'd ; I think you are So faire , so handsome , and beyond compare For qualities ; of such a sweet condition , France cannot shew the like ; had I commission To search the fairest out , I 'ld come to you ; And what I speake , is nothing but your due . With that she answer'd ; turne your eyes and see What purchase you have got ; you lay with mee , And had delight : now bid adieu to pleasure , For your reward is worse than empty measure . Then pulling up her garments from below , The stormes did rise , the furious wind did blow . And presently they heard such claps of thunder , As if the earth were forc'd to rend in sunder . The lightning flasht , or elsthey'd had no light : And there they did behold the fearful'st sight That ever eyes beheld ; the sight of hell , The horrid shapes the blacknesse of the cell , The burning in 't , the dreadfull cloven feet , The gasping ghosts , how Devils did them greet . Then presently they were struck down to gether : The house was vanish't , and the stormy weather Was put to silence ; but they three were found Groveling in mire ; all the City ground Could never match that odious stinking place ; This Divelish whore , there leaves them in disgrace . One comming by when Titans flags were spread , And spide them all , but one of them was dead : The other two lay wallowing in the dirt ; ( Besides the filth , none could perceive'em hurt ) But they found death was making way within ; Their soules were wounded with the curse of sin , They for a Priest with one consent did cry , They 'd faine confesse their crimes before they dye . In this distresse time did affoord them hope , That they should have their pardon from the Pope . He that did first vent out lascivious breath , Now fals to be the second man for death : For on the morrow , death being mov'd with lust , Did ravish him ; then left him in the dust . The other , two dayes after did resigne Himselfe to death . Now if this quill of mine Were dipt in blood , 't would make the reader feare A where for ever ; and to drop a teare For these unhapy men ; Oh! never more Let lust prevaile ! the Devil 's turn'd a whore . Oh! horrid state ! what case were these men in , To poison time , and dye in such a sin ! Did ever Monsters match with fowler evill ? Did any villaines seek to court the Devill ? Till Fountaine did begin ? did hell intend A plot to bring them to a cursed end ? Or is 't in travell with a stranger birth ? Or has it leave to keepc exchange on earth ? Here 's quick returne ; 't wil send a whore agen , If it has hope to catch more such vile men . Did Proserpine , the feigned Queene of hell , Sendout this Nymph ? does Pluto like it well , To be a Carpenter ? ( the house seem'd faire ) Builds he by Patent castles in the aire ? Who 's his Vpholster , that did make the bed ? Or was 't a grave , made to enclose the dead ? Whence came the hangings ? was 't from hell ? I know There 's hanging still ; but 't is not there for show . What fire was it , that gave such light to those ? 'T was but the flashes from that hel-hounds nose . It seem'd to be from hell ( for 't was a spark Too full of heat : ) but that it was not dark . Did Vulcan make the key to let them in ? And paint old Venus o're ? did he then begin , To call her first from hell ? he 's old and lame ; And he 's asham'd to answer to his name . Did Dipsas let that roome ( a little time ) While they committed this accursed crime ? Or did the Broker do 't , cause they were three , In hopes they 'ld pay him with a treble fee ? The Devil 's growne a Broker ; and I will , In seeing one , think on the other still . Give one a prize , pay treble , he willfawne , If Devils lend , they 'd have their soules to pawne . How fell the house so suddenly away ? The works of darknesse cannot brooke the day . How soone are shadows gone ! though they appeare ! Sin ends in discontent ; 't is blasted here . Men wanting reason , are depriv'd of sense , The Devill seemes a whore , for recompence . Their reason and their sense renews againe ; But 't is in Iustice , as they 're seales to paine . Whores are not Devils yet , time is not past ; Beware , or they 'l prove Devils at the last . The grave hath shut his jawes upon those men , I 'll write their Epitaph , and weepe agen . The Epitaph . THese haplesse Imps were partners in an evill , That shamelesse time did blush to heare and see ; They acted sornication with a Devill ; Have spirits flesh ? 't is strange ! how can this bee ? They were the beasts , that us'd a Devils bed : ( A plague they got ) but had no maiden-head .

SECT. 41. Of a young man that went to drinke with a whore , and how he was tempted , and gull'd . VPon a time , when the pale Queene of night Was forc'd by Titan to yeild up her right , Then bold Aurora does her flags display , T' invite her guests , to usher in the day : A night-bird yet was seene ; and this I finde , Sh' was truly fowle , but made of woman-kinde . She met a man , well clad , with money plentie ; His outside shew'd his pockets were not emptie . She looks upon him ; but the man was mute , Then she broke silence , for she had a suit To him in private ; cals him by his name , ( Whether he was a man that us'd the game That she affected ; or by accident Had learn'd his name , to further her intent , I cannot tell ) she profer'd him the wine ; Shake hands , you are a countrey-man of mine : I know your friends , pray tell me how they do ; I know your lands , and I have lands there too . But that my Vnkle , like a churle , in spight , For slipping once , does keepe away my right . My brother sold my linnen , and my chest ; I 've divers things that trouble much my brest , T' acquaint you with ( 't will mitigate my paine ) The help I have , is , freedome to complaine . Thus spoke ; unto the Taverne then they went ; ( The twig was greene , and he was quickly bent ) They 're entertain'd , and having drank a quart , She 'll make 't a pottle ; how can friends thus part ? I cannot talk untill I take my liquor ; Come , drink about , 't will make my brains the quicker . When that was drunk , seeing 't was his hap to find her , For charge of wine , he scornes to come behind her . They make it up a gallon : then this sinner Does make enquiry , what there was for dinner ? A pullet , and a woodcock she espi'd , They must be drest , and what they had beside , The bill will shew ; till then be you content : I 'm loth to leave them in their merriment . They ate , and drank , she brought in fresh discourse Of countrey , friends , untill her throat grew hoarse . But having din'd , they both forgot their grace : This whore grows warme , and with a shamelesse face Begins to tempt him : clips him , then she kist him , And sweares she would not for a world sh 'had mist him , But he not stirr'd , her bold attempts did grieve him , He chid her for 't ; chuse whether you 'l beleeve him . Fie , fie , my countrey woman , and so rude ? I thought y' had been with modestie endu'd : But now I see your ends : fire sends out smoke . ( I am afraid it was but faintly spoke . ) But she reply'd , It was no fault of mine : If 't be a fault , impute it to the wine . 'T was for thy sake , affections did me move : Is that amisse , which springs from too much love ? Be not so stupid , do not frowne or vex ; 'T is but the fondnesse of the female sex . 'T is true , 't is boldnesse , thus for me to wooethee , I 'de give delight , that 's all the harme I 'll doe thee . Have I not beautie , with a colour fresh ? Am I not young ? have I not tender flesh ? My parts agree , my hand 's as white as milk ; Thou may'st embrace thine armes full of this silk . But thou deny'st me : art thou such a foole ? What , heartlesse quite ? and are thy spirits coole ? A Stoick sure ! affections thou hast none ; Art thou a man ? or art thou wood , or stone ? My countrey-man ! and yet to want a spirit ? I am asham'd ; hast thou land to inherit And not a man ? Fortune ere long will send it . What good wil't doe ? thou 'It want a heart to spend it ; Thy face does promise more ; I feare th' art gelt , Thou blushest now ; then faine she would have felt ; But he deny'd her ; then they fall to drinking : And now this quean doth beat her braines with thinking How to be gone : leave him to pay the shot : He 's but dry meat ( thinks she ) there 's nothing got By such a thick-skin : so she makes excuse To have a place that was for private use . This project took , it finish'd her intent : The passage being free , away she went . He in her absence , nor a sleep , nor waking , His fancy wrought , his braines o're charg'd with aking , The reckning vext his mind : she staid so long , He fear'd a cheat ; but yet he held his tongue . At last the news was brought that she was fled : What is my country-woman so ill bred To slink away so rudely ? now to leave me ? With flatt'ring words , oh ! how did she deceive me Is this the love she did to me pretend ? Deceitfull slut ! but now I see her end : I 'de faine be gone , this place is like a tombe ; Bring in the bill , and let me know my doome . The bil's preferr'd , examin'd too so far ( His cause is heard , and tryed at the bar ) That he is guilty : so the man is cast . Behind his back , they sentence on him past ; Not so severe , but he might be redeem'd With coyne : for money makes a man esteem'd . This bil's a bill of debt , 't was never seal'd , In time the Statute might have it repeal'd , And made it void ; there 's witnesse that 't is due , T'prevent the worst , just while the bill is new , It must be paid : 't is brought , though he doth spread it , His eyes being dim , the Drawer's faine to read it . Inpri . Aquart of dainty Muscadine . Item . With game-Hens egs in number nine , Item . Foure quarts of Sack , upon my word , The best that London can afford . Item . Five quarts of Claret , fine and neat , To fit your stomacks for your meat . Item . A Pullet , of the very best , With sauce , exceeding neatly drest . Item . A Woodcock , though 't were somewhat stale , 'T was fat , and white , it roasted pale . Item . For bread and linnen cleane and white , To please your minds , and give delight . Item . Small beere , your lusts and heat to coole , It serv'd a Whore , and pleased a Foole. Summa totalis . The reckoning cast , doth now amount Agreeing with a just accompt . 4 — 10 — 18 With sighing , vexing , when he heard it read , With fixed eyes , and shaking of his head , With heavy looks , and other signes of grief , He sues unto his pockets for relief : And finding succour in his great distresse , ( For they redeem'd him from his heavinesse , And freed his heeles ) for that he was content To keep them as a lasting monument . He 's gone , but shame attends him : he 's a foe Vnto himselfe still wheresoe'r he goe : His conscience chides , tels him he did not well To trust himselfe so neare the brink of hell . Sins entrance still , forerunnes a greater evill , And whores do lay men open to the Devill . Besides , report will blaze abroad the shame , And then disgrace will seaze upon his name . His friends will hear 't , they 'l grieve , in grieving flight him : His foes will snarl , & in their snarling bite him ; His friends wil doubt the worst , till they have try'd him : His foes will speak the worst , and then deride him : Both friends and foes will heare of his disgrace ; His foes will laugh , his friends , lament his case . All men will judge him guilty of the ill , And twatling Fame will nose him with it still . The sight of Taverns shakes him limb , by limb : He 'l think that some are there bewitcht like him : But going by that Tavern , where the punck And he did eat , and drink , till both were drunck ; And thinking how they dallied ; what a gull She made of him : Oh! then his heart is full : He reads the ground , asham'd to shew his face : Cause 't was to him a sinfull , shamefull place . Open disgrace , and secret shame within , Goe hand in hand : this is the fruit of sin .

SECT. 42. How he met with her again ; of their discourse , and how he pawn'd her for a large reckoning . BVt after this , his choler boil'd to rage : He 's grown the scorne , a wonder of the age . Great shame and horror mixt , breeds his disease , Revenge alone is bent to seek him ease . Revenge must make a plaister for his sore ; And to his sins , he 'd faine adde one sin more . He seeks this whore , nor can he chuse but mind her , Knows not her name , nor when , nor where to find her : But on a time , Don Phabus being drest , His chariot mounted driving to'rd the West , He rode in state , his countenance was faire , His glitt'ring beames did gild the wav'ring aire : The earth was crusted , plants had hoary beards , A snow-white Canopy did hide the heards . The airy quiristers were kept in thrall : And Chanticler's tho speaker for them all . The Northerne treasures broke : it scatters cold : But that brave Champion seeing it so bold Drives it to corners : though his golden sight Doth fright it thus ; it comes age'n at night . Turne , turne my Muse , why do'st thou now digresse ? Sinfull revenge tho'rt bound here to expresse ? Vpon occasion , walking by that place Where at the first he chanc't to see her face , ( It seemes to me , she kept her Market there , And what she sold , was rotten ware , and deare ) He spi'd her , she knew him , they must renew Their former friendship ; now they will be true To one another , they 'll but quench their thirst , Not make a day on 't , as they did at first . He had forgot her slip ; nor did it move him , He 's satisfied now , if she will but love him . The wine they had ; he that at first time saw her , And waited on them , is again their drawer . He had the charge to watch her , he was willing To do 't to purpose , for 't he had a shilling . The wine was naught , or she had lost her taste : Sh'd have a dainty bit to break her fast : 'T is very wholsome mornings : 't will imbellish The vitall parts , and give the wine a rellish . Fri'd Sausages , they had ; she was content To stay with him , and other men prevent , If he had money : then he shews her gold , Which joyes her heart ; and then this whore was bold To call for wine , and faggots for the fire : Bespoke a dinner to her own desire : Then she began to dally , sport , and play , Sung bawdy songs , to passe the time away : She do's engage her selfe unto his pleasure : And tels him he ne're knew what hidden treasure She had in store ; I know thou know'st my mind : Stir up thy heart and thou maist quickly find , Thou hast no mind : do , prove thy selfe an Asse , T' embrace the box , and let the Iewell passe . Thy betters would be glad to have this proffer ; And men in Scarlet would embrace this offer ; Nay sue , and sue again to have my love , By friends , and gifts , and if they could but move Me to affect 'em , happy they would be ! There 's two or three a looking now for me . I love thee best of all that ere I saw . Above all things I love bold natures law . Look upon me ; do'st dote upon a stone ? Or art thou griev'd 'cause thou hast ne're a one ? What , moulded all of earth ? hadst thou but fire Mix't with thy blood , thou d'st shew it with desire . My blood is active , see it in my veines ; My spirit 's lively , and my youthfull reines Full of desire , but this at last I think , Thou art a man , but proffer'd wares do stink . Thus spake , she ceast : He mus'd a while , faine he his mind would break , Yet so put to 't , he knew not what to speak . He 'l not deny , nor yet would he consent : While he was pumping how to give content , Dinner 's brought up : the first , then second course : And after dinner , then the queane grows worse ; But he 's the same , if you 'l but take his word : I 'le leave the doubt ; if any can afford A good construction , help me at a need , Which way to turne , that we may be agreed . She cals for fidlers , but they cannot come : They are imployed in another roome . These sherking rogues did shew themselves but poore , They did not come , to wait upon this whore . They now provide for supper , and they cast What fowle to have : the reckning must be last . They dranck , they striv'd so much as they were able To bring each other , underneath the table . He 's turnd a hogshead , she is but a barrell ; He leaves the snuffes , and she begins to quarrell . Their braines are drown'd ; though they can hardly stand ? They 'l drink the other pottle hand to hand . Now they have sup't the cloth being tooke away , Her mind runs on the score , that was to pay : And faine she 'd slink away , but that he ei'd her : She was halfe gone , and then the drawer spi'd her . Then she began to drink afresh againe : She stretcht her guts , to overcharge his braine . Thinking at last to scape , and get renown ; But yet the hogshead drank the barrell down : And then away goes he , and leaves the whore Asleep : but waking , she must pay the score . But when she wak't , and found that he was gone She was perplex't : for money she had none . She cals the drawer to bring in the bill , She reads it thus ; though sore against her will . Breakfast . Inpri . Three quarts of Allegant fresh and good , To strenghthen you and help your blood . Item . Ten quarts of good Canary sack To drown your braines , bring you to wrack . Item . Eight quarts of Claret , that was it That made you drunk , and stole your wit , Item . For Saussages , and sli'st roast beisse , That gave the knave and whore releif . Dinner . Item . A Capon roasted , very fine : Honester folkes might with it dine . Item . Two Rahits , Feldivers beside , You did exceed and show your pride . Item . A brace of Teile , a dish of Larks , Not fit for those with bawdy marks . Supper . Item . A roasted Hen 't was fresh and new , Sh' was never trod so much as you . Item . A dish of Pigeons , and a Tart , Such Imps to eat it , vext my heart . Item . For Bread , and Cheese , and Linnen cleane , That well might shame a nasty queane . Item . For Fagots which did feed the fire . To fit you for your whorish hire . Summa totalis . The same amounts to you may see , That you had cost , with baudery , 3 — 4 — 5 When she had read the bill , it much did feare her , She blubber'd out ( the knavish boyes did jeare her ) Such snotty teares that wash'd the painting out ; The wrinkles now appeare , her pearled snout Has all the colour ; being grown so hot , She must be cool'd , for now to pay the shot She must deliver up her beaver hat , But 't will not serve , ( yet she is vext at that . ) Then she is stript out of her silken gown ; Had you but heard her sweare , and seen her frown , You would have thought her mad ; she curst the man . And call'd him villain , rogue , thiefe , what she can Devise to reckon ; then the Drawer last , He must be hang'd , she sentence on him past . Away she goes , so like a Bedlam hag , Had she a goblet and a canvasse bag , Then Besse of Bedlam she had now been nam'd . Being impudent , she scorns to be asham'd . Sh' has musick as she goes , made by an owle , And dogs do bark , some other dogs do howle . But if some Beadle , after this her stripping , Had been so good t' have help'd her to a whipping , Sh 'had had her due . I doe not speak with fainting , The stripes had lasted longer than her painting . But in the morne , when day began to dawn , She went with money to redeeme her pawn : ( For whores and theeves still keep a stock together , They say 't is good to helpe in stormy weather , ) But if her taile brings in no better prizes , Her hands ere long will bring her to th' assizes .

SECT. 43. To a Fidler that was importunate to be entertain'd in a Taverne by two or three Gentlemen . A Fidler comming to a tavern late , ( That day had been to him unfortunate ) His brains being over-soak'd , his tongue was oyl'ds And tipt with non-sense ; but his fiddle fail'd To bring him in his vailes ( which mov'd his ire ) Being strung too low , nor could he raise it higher . He 's out of sorts , but seeking for reliefe , His melancholy fiddle tun'd his griefe . For want of custome he alone did play The lamentable tune of Welladay ! Faine he 'd go home , but then his empty purse Restrain'd his purpose , and his brains did nurse A poore conceit of home ; to helpe his need His fiddle's better strung ; it is agreed That he should search the house , perhaps he might ( To help his day ) speed better in the night . But comming to a room where he did finde Some company , but not to shoot his minde , He prest upon them , would take no deniall , He 'd give a lesson , having tun'd his Viall . Then one reply'd , trench not upon this ground , What , dost thou come to charme us with a sound ? Whence eam'st thou now ? spright-like thou dost appeare , Speak , art thou come to play upon us here ? Thy hollow-hearted siddle sounds within , Thou 'dst be as empty , were it not for fin : Thou with thy fiddle maist compared be , For that without is varnished like thee . The upper end doth represent thy face , But thine doth change more ; trading with the base Hath made thee so : the neck is very long , So thine would be , if it were once well strung . But with the strings I will not once compare , Thine should be hemp , but these are made with haire Thy fiddle's dry , it soundeth with a touch , Thou art not sound , but thou art wet too much : Yet both of you are common in the towne ; The fiddle hath a bridge , thine 's broken downe . The pegs will make the strings or low , or higher ; So is thy note , thy face being set on fire . Iucrease of liquour will not coole thy heat , Thou sing'st for drink , and thou dost scrape for meat . To touch thy name it is not my intent , For'tis confirm'd by act of Parliament . But thou art proud , and wilt not owne thy name , Thou art a shifter , canst thou shift thy shame ? Thou play'st away thy time , ( thy strings will break ) And thou canst play , although thou canst not speak . The Milk-maids have a garland , thou must be Their chiefe Musitian , and thou maist be free Against the Wake , and at the Whitsun A'le Thou maist get in , if thou canst tell thy tale With inpudence . Bears would thy musick grace . But that a Bagpipe-player has the place . Thy'state's not much , nor much is like to be , 'T is gotten ill , and wastes as fast as thee . But thou runn'st not in debt , none will thee trust , Except the chandlers wife , alas ! she must ! ( Thou bring'st her custome ) there in thou maist boast , That thou canst score five shillings on the post : But if she aske it , thou wilt graspe her middle , Pay her with words , and bid her go and fiddle . Thou hast no trade , nor wast thou born to land , Yet all thy gettings are from hand to hand . If thou canst tune thy fiddle , clear thy throat , Perhaps in time , a round skirt pi●-bald coat May hide thy faults , then wilt thou pay thy score , Musitioner ? thou' rt fidler then no more . But pr'y thee tell me , wast not thou of late With roaring blades , and ev'ry one for 's mate A doxie trull ? when they did dance and drink Excesse of wine ? and boyling o're the brink , They sought out hell : he was much like to thee , That cover'd sin to gaine a Panders fee. When they went in , it was not their intent To graft their shame , the Drawer did consent To draw them in ; thy did not think to do it , Thy fidling , with the wine , provok'd'em to it . Thou art no Thiefe , yet thou dost steale mens time , Their honesty , their coine to buy a crime . Thou art no Cheat , but this all men may know , For what they give , they 've nothing left to show , Thou art no Bawd , but yet a bawdy song Thou 'lt chatter out , if wine stop not thy tongue . Thou art no Begger , but thou do'st invade , And trench most grosly on the beggers trade . Crowd , crowd away , let us thy absence borrow : Then thou maist play to night , and beg to morrow .

SECT. 44. To an impudent whore that came into an Inne , and clipt and kist a man before company . THou shamelesse Hag , why dost present thy ghost In this frequented place ? is this a coast Where night-hags use to meet ? or art thou come To shew the foulnesse of the fall of some ? Or art thou sent from hell ( our faults to spie ) To drink a hogshead , 'cause the place is dry ? Or ( Ignis Fatuus ) like that foolish fire , Would'st draw us from the way into the mire ? Whence cam'st thou ? tell me , turne thy selfe about ? Thy face doth conjure , and thy eyes dart out Such beams of lightning that it makes me wonder ! Is 't not a messenger before a thunder ? What skin is it thou wear'st ? I pr'y thee tell , Art thou the ghost of painted Iesabel ? Or didst come newly from the Serpents den , To parle about a truce and peace with men ? Or art thou come to blaze abroad thy name ? Would'st keep a school to teach the simple shame ? Or art a gloworme , onely seene at night ? Or art a seeming substance to the sight ? Can any spirit drink a round carouse ? What say minehost ? Do spirits haunt your house ? I judge thou art none by thy humane tones ; Besides I know a spirit hath no bones . What art thou then ? an Angel , or a devill ? No , they are spirits too , they 'l shew thy evill . A Hag , a woman-sepent , and possest With hell above ground : titles fits thee best , That suits thy nature . Hell-hounds do I know Break loose sometimes , but yet they dwell below : They 're shapt with shame : none did I ever see him , Of all the brood so impudent as thee . What , old acquaintance met ? 'las ! thou must kisse Thou didst in Newgate or in Bridewell misse him . Hast no regard to company , that thou Art bent to shame a bashfull devill now ? Thy hands are snares . Oh! let me never finde Or heare thy like in any woman kinde ! Sin is asham'd , and hell 's almost afraid It shall be question'd , thou art not dismaid . Heaven sees thee , dost not blush ? what , past all feare ? Dost think to make a prey of any here ? We hate thy looks , ( thou sordid trull ) and vex To see shame grounded in the female sex . What charme dost use ? thy beauty is not rich ; What art to draw , except thou art a witch ? Get , get thee gone , thou learn'dst of hell to wooe , Thou 'dst faine be laid , and yet be common too . Go to the brink of hell to act thy sin . Not stir ? my Muse , pray call the Beadles in To take her to correction : if this whore , After the whip , shall sin as heretofore , And lay her baits ; yet bid her ( if she durst ) Catch any one that 's not from God accurst . Let all that hope for heaven , have a care , And shun the bait , as they 'd avoid the snare . The subtill devill sets apart such elves To do that work they cannot do themselves , To joyn in lust , they want bones , flesh and blood , Nor have they throats to tumble downe a flood Of wine or beere : although these sins be rife , Say , was the devill drunk in all his life , Except it were with pride ? he keeps no whore , Nor did he're , but to torment them more Than sin e're joy'd 'em : in the vault of hell , They 'l finde that place far worse than New Bridewell . While I digrest , the quean was slunk away : My Muse had spoke more , but sh' was loth to stay .

SECT. 45. A Parley betweene Nature and Fame , about an insatiable man , and of a modest man , being abused by queanes . N. WHat is this man that courts this nasty whore ? F. I spred his fame , but never saw'm before : He 's swarthy blacke , and yellow , and his looks Do shew he studies harlots more than books . N. Why , he 's too old , his wanton dayes are past . F. He 'l never leave 't while life and strength do last . N. How do's he scape the law ? he has been in . F. It purg'd his purse , but could not purge his sin . N. Has he done penance yet , to blaze his name ? F. No , by his money he defers his shame . N. Was he curst from the Church i' th' sight of men ? F. Yes ; but by money he came in agen . N. What , is he married that he keepes this vice ? F. He 's married now , he has been married twice . N. Is this the Trull he keepes ? is 't only shee ? F. One will not serve , he must have two or three . N. 'T is mar'l his wife can beare 't ! doth she not show Her grievance to the world ? doth she not know How to be eas'd ? F. Alas ! she cannot finde A remedy to ease her grieved minde : He slights her weeping , and he keepes her bare , With poore apparell , and with courser fare . N. What children hath he ? F. Divers ; 'mong the res : He hath a son religious ; cause he 's best , He hates him most : if he 'd but love a whore , He 'd be his father , and affect him more . N. What meanes has he ? F. He had much , but 't is spent , Most of it upon whores ! 't is his intent To make an end on 't , if he live a while . N. 'T is strange the earth should beare a man so vile What shall his children do , if he spends all ? F. Why , let 'em work , or beg , or hang 'em all . N. Can any father be so much o're-seene , To slight his flesh and blood ? or in a spleene , Run out of all ? or for his lustfull pleasure ? Turne to a grave to bury all his treasure ? Has he no care of credit ? does his name Rott while he lives ? doth not his conscience blame Him for his faults ? hath he no soule to save ? What , is he sworne to be the Devils slave ? Is nature lost ? or is 't congeal'd to lust ? F. He has been burn'd : e're long he 'll turne to dust . N. What servants doth he keep ? F. Some two , or three , N. Have they their wages paid ? do they agree ? F. He 's inward with his maids , until they swel , But then he 'l curse them to the pit of hel , And turne 'em out of dores : they must away Without their wages . He wants coyne to pay . N. How deales he with his men ? F. Almost as bad ; An honest man of late ( I heard ) he had , Who , in his heart , still did abhora a whore , And therefore he was bent to vex him more . N. How did he vex him ? F. To a bawdy house , ( Where he did use to come for Mutton sowce ) He brought this man : when he perceiv'd what place It was ; and thinking what a foule disgrace 'T would bring to him ; he turn'd himselfe about ; His master spying him a going out , Call'd him agen ; What , wilt thou leave me so ? Pray take a cup of liquor e're you go . He call'd a queane , and whisper'd in her care , She knew his minde ; and being many there , She flew upon him , scratcht him with her nailes ; He felt their hands , because he loath'd their taile , They were possest all with the Devils minde , If he had had no help , sh 'had scratcht him blinde . They beat him too ; ( 't was hard to be endur'd ) Then bid him look a Surgeon to be cur'd . N. What cause had they ? did they pretend a jest ? F. You must not look for reason in a beast . Such vermin do so venom , with a touch They 'l blast a man ; there 's too too many such . N. How scap'd he from 'em ? was he freed by strength ; F. The case being foule , a Gentleman at length , Redeem'd him from their clawes ; and he for feare , Ran out of dores , and never came more there . N. Where staid his master ? F. He was in that place : For 't was his plot , to bring him to disgrace . N. How was his carr'age ? F. He was like to burst With laughing at it . How is he accurst ! Oh! beastly act ! how does my soule abhor it ! N. Do they not feare they shall be question'd for it ? Our Lawes be sharp enough , I wish they may Be executed too ; let such a day Be kept in minde , writin a bloody letter ! To shame them ever , or to make them better . They do not feare the Lawes of God , nor man : If Law doth search them , they have friends that can Soone free them from 't : if not , they 'l ne're relent , Before the sin bring home the punishment : Humanitie's banisht from 'em ; let it finde Sweet entertainment in the honest minde ! You shamelesse hags ! come , answer at the bar , Was his face made for your foule claws to mar ? The Devill has long talons , so have you , He taught you how to use them , is 't not true ? He durst not do so much , not being bid : Y 'had no command , nor leave , and yet you did . A beast ( though wilde ) is daunted at the sight Of living man ; 't is hungrie appetite That makes him prey upon him : what desire Could move you to this fact , except hell fire Was kindled in your hearts ? with hels consent You spit your furie on the innocent . What , was 't to shew how bravely you were bred ? Or else 'cause you 'l be talkt on when you 're dead ? Then't had beene seene more in a single duell , Not six to one : but cowards are most cruell . D' ye think to scape so ? no , you 'l finde this thing Shall flye abroad upon the nimble wing Of infamy : you 'l pay the fine beside , With smart to boot , when e're the cause be tri'd . To please the Letcher you consented : how ? Because you think h' has brought you money now . But if you finde there 's nothing to be had , I think next time you 'l serve him full as bad . I know you kick , because I touch the sore ; But if you bite , I 'll rub it five times more .

SECT. 46. Of a mans discontent at his wifes lewdnesse : his travell into the Netherlands : and how his wife was married to another in his absence ; and of his returne , and complaints thereupon . A man that was sore vexed with a wife , ( A wife ? a whore she was that bred the strife ) That he was weary of his life , yet had No hope to turne her , though she were so bad ; Which did increase his griefe , and break his sleep : And waking , sought out corners where to weep . She slighted him ; nay , when she saw him vex't , She 'd jeare him still , which made him werse perplex't , At last in secret , full of discontent , His griefe broke out , and thus he did lament . Alas ! alas ! I am undone for ever ! Delights adiew ! but griefe will leave me never , For angry Fate hath all my fortunes cro'st , My shame appeares , but I my selfe am lost : I 'm forc'd to yeeld , and so I must abide it , My shame breakes out ; alas ! I cannot hide it . I thought I had been happie ; but I see That scene is done : this acts my miserie ! Fate is a Tyrant , else he 'd never bring Shame on the guiltlesse ; but the guiltie sting . Fortune 's a partiall goddesse ; then who can Say , who 'l be quit , or who 's the guiltie man ? I have corrivals ; should not they be blam'd , And suffer for 't ? but I , alas , am sham'd ! They act the sin in climbing to my bed ; Yet I for that must weare horns on my head . I cannot passe , but boyes will point at mee ; But the delinquents , they scape ever free . My house is growne my prison ; but what 's worse , My wife 's a common whore , which breeds the curse , Heavens looke downe upon me ! that I may Have light , and aid , from her to scape away , Into some cell remote ; where I may dwell , And spend my dayes , my miseries to tell ! Let Morpheus hide me with his cole-black shade , I may no more a laughing stock be made ! I 'm borne to crosses ; and alas ! poore I Must be content to kisse my crosse , and dye ! He thus distrest , to mitigate his woe , At last-resolves , that to the sea he 'l goe : He has some hope he shall forget this whore : She hopes as much that he 'l come home no more , As yet , the wind breathes a contrarie gust , Against his will : then stay a while he must . She fear'd his minde was chang'd , because he stay'd ; And for his voyage thus at last she pray'd : Hang , hang this Stags head ! what , he 'l ne're away ; For ought I see , he is resolv'd to stay . No way e're to be freed of this crosse knave , That I in 's absence may my pleasure have ? You Gods that rule the winds , grant me this boone , Take him away ; I doe not care how soone ! Fill full the sailes : you gentle Sailers stand , Receive your fare , and take him from this land ! Make haste away , and lanch into the deepe ; Alas ! while then , I can nor eat , nor sleepe ! Then let the sea-borne Goddesse plead my cause ! I am a Nymph that doe embrace her lawes . Let Neptunes bosome still his prison be , And loftie waves embrace him ! let not me Feare his returne ! let Sharks and Dolphins part His flesh betwixt them ! that will ease my heart . Or else let raging stormes his body sever ; I care not which : so I may see him never . If none of those will yeeld to my request , Yet in this last , I hope I shall be blest . You Netherlands , inclose with dust his bones , Through want , or sword ! I 'l end my suit and mones . Well , gone he is , winds see you gently use him , You Sailers rude , take heed , doe not abuse him . The Goddesse is but fain'd , nor knows she how To heale or hurt : she hath no power now . Nor yet great Neptune ; ( let 's have no mistaking ) For all his power is of Poets making . Nor can the stormes destroy men when they list ; There 's one above that holds them in his fist , Of in the Netherlands ; I speake to men , Pray vse him well , or send him home agen ! But whither strayes my Muse , and wand'ring quill ? Come home , search out that whore , and blaze her ill : This hatefull queane keepes open rande vou ; Come Tag , and Rag ; and she is common too . Her tabl'es spread , to entertaine all commers , And thus she liv'd one winter , and two sommers , Till all was spent ; and somewhat else beside Did gnaw her bones ; rott met with lust and pride . She thought , or hop'd her husband now was dead , She cannot lie alone , but must be wed . Alas poore whore ! as yet she had no suitor ; Her man was bashfull , she became his tutor To draw him on : for daily she did wooe him , She had her will , and that was to undoe him . Vndone indeed ! for in a little while He was so shamelesse , impudent , and vile He car'd for no man ; no man car'd for him , Disease stuck close which made his sight grow dim , Then he would sweare , and curse his sory'd fate , Till at the last his speech grew out of date . Death warn'd him hence , he would not be deny'd , He liv'd a brute , and now a begger dy'd . The Epitaph . Death , now I see thou art not pallat nice ; Thou canst disgest , what I would loth to touch , Such commons we 'le allow thee at the price ; Leave dainty cates , and feed upon all such . Grave , thou did'st well to plaister up his sore ; Hee being poyson'd , might have poyson'd more . But yet this hag remaines , and she must have Another husband ; and her wants doe crave Reliefe ; for all her night-birds now are scatter'd , Their wings cut short , and some their noses batter'd , She casts her hook ; sh 'had almost catch a fish , But that the broth was hot , or els the dish Was broken ware ; so that with very feare He slipt the hook , and never came more there . She left her angle then ; and cast a net , With baits to try , if she could any get : She knew of what , and where such fish would feed ; And at the last she catcht a Iack in deed . You know my meaning , she has got another , She 'l serve him too , just as she serv'd the other . She had her Bridgroom but a little space , He was as desp'erat as he 's void of grace , Learning of her : he joy'd in all that 's evill : And having got acquaintance with the Devill , He plaid his part a time ; untill his reines Had entertain'd the French ; his shallow braines Grown adle too ; his skin from 's flesh did peele : I can but think what torments he did feele ! The earth deny'd to beare him , those that spi'd him ; Did stop their noses , all men did deride him . The grave is open , 'gainst his glasse is ranne , Death turnes the Scene , and so his part is donne . His Epitaph . DEvouring grave ! what purchase hast thou gotton ? Or greedy death , what prize is 't that he snatcht ? Alas ! poore purchase ! he before was rotten , Death broke the duell , seing him o're matcht . G : D : We' are both his friends ; for why ? we did agree To take him now : and save the hang mans see . And now this strumpet hath out-liv'd her pleasure , What she hath done , so she receives like measure : In her the furie of the foule disease Begins to raigne : the earth can give no ease , And heaven will not ; hell would faine be dealing With her disease ; but there 's no hope of healing . Her teeth breake forth , all creatures do contemne her ; And with consent , they all at once condemne her . The little children , that can say no more , Will prattle out , and say , There goes a whore . She doth some good yet , I will ne're bely her ; The Goldsmith's like to get some money by her ; In making for her mouth a silver stud ; Her palat's downe , and yet she 'd chew the cud . Some say 't is good ( I think they do but doat ) To keepe the pox from rifling of her throat . But others say ( nor can I 'gree with those ) 'T wil keep her speech from creeping through her nose . Though 't bring her ease , pray , whatsoe're you do , Keepe silence ; else the rest will use it too . The Goldsmith's come , the plate is verie fit , Had he been carelesse , she had taught him wit : ( For she was painted with a daintie colour ) And paid him like that whore that paid the Sculler , He set it in : but being such a stink , He stopt his nose , for he was like to sink . And having done , receiving then his pay , He quickly parted ; though she bid him stay , He was too wise : as he his leave did take , He past his word her teeth should never ake . 'T was but a jeere : for they were slunk aside , For shame : or they the stink could not abide . A fearfull case ! although she 's seene of many , She has nor favour , nor regard from any . And like an owle , she keeps her hole ; the light Is hatefull to her , but she walkes at night . But stay , I heare her husband's new come over , Where landed he ? at Gravesend ? or at Dover ? What matter is t ? he will be here to morrow , Come when he will , he 'l come but to his sorrow . He 's come poore man ! pray bid him welcome ; why ? Cause by his travels , he hath learn'd to dye . But being come , he heard such heavy newes Which kild his heart ; and yet he could not chuse But listen to 't ; how she had drove a trade , How she had prov'd her selfe a common Iade ; And had the grincoms : sh 'ad been married twice ; And how they dy'd ; and yet she kept her vice . How she was tooth'd ; & how her mouth was mended : Then looking pale , just as the newes was ended , His spirits fail'd him : by degrees he sunk , Down to the ground ; and then steps in this punk , To bid him welcom home : but having striv'd To over come his passion , he reviv'd : He turn'd about , and spying her , he broke His grieved mind , and to her this he spoke : Away , thou sordid witch ! do'st come to me To adde a weight unto my misery ? Thou hate full hag ! hast not undonne me quite ? I for thy sake am like a child of night ! Thousorceresse ! the cause of all my strife ; Thou liv'st ( though dead ) nor widow , maid , nor wife . 'T is known thou art a comon trull ; thy name Is blaz'd by time , poore I must beare the shame . Thou dost increase my torments ! as for mirth 'T is banisht quite ; thou art my hell on earth . Go feind of darknesse ( none like thee I know For hel-bred vilenesse ) to thy place below . Who can deny thou' art an incarnate Devill ? Out of my sight , I 'me overpre'st with evill ! The house being dispossest , yet , still his griefe Swell'd o're the brink ; nor could he find reliefe In this distresse : yet secretly he groan'd ! With trickling teares , thus he his case bemoan'd . Time , stand'st thou still ? shake , shake thy sand apace Drive on with fury , I may end my race : Grant me this boone , and place will then agree : Or let me know my date of misery . Will Sea , nor Land , nor person end my strife ? Nor Fowle , nor Beast of prey once take my life ? I cannot call it pitty : no , 't is spleene , To let meling er thus ! my sorrow 's seene ; Yet not lamented . Death is growne a stranger , If he 'd come once , I should be quit from danger . Death , armethy self with strength ; 't is but a blow : The gentle grave hath made my bed below . I feare tho' art brib'd , my adversaries may Have time to laugh , ere thou tak'st me away , Am I not worth a strok ? or am I growne Tco stale a bit : for thee to swallow downe ? I must be thine ; come , ease me of this curse ! The longer here I live , I am the worse ! My suing makes thee coy to shew thy face ; But those that seek thee not thou dost imbrace : They dye but once , but every day a death Thou hast for me ; yet still I draw my breath . I dye with grief ! but this I truly find Th' more deaths I dye , the more there are behind . Dying I went , and dying I came hither ! Strike not so oft , but do it altogether . Thus said , he stopt ; grief did arrest his tongue . Blame not my Muse , for staying by ' imsolong .

SECT. 47. Of a man that fell to decay in the World , through his excesse ; and how his wife turn'd Hackney , and he a Pander . A Man that carried breadth to raise his name , ( Time made him drop quite from the wings of fame ) He led the world awhile , and made a dust : ( Some think because he did the Courtiers trust Made him stand by ) in time a good estate Was lent , and spent ; he liv'd at such a rate , That men admired ; and he had a wife , For diet , and apparell was at strife T' exceed her betters : she must have a fanne , Her gownes of silk , her costly rings , her man To wait upon her : in this lofty straine She laid it on , nor did she mind the maine . Of alteration she did never think , She 'd have her will , her purse still full of chink . She had a beauty , she too well did know it , She scornes to keep it up : in love she 'l shew it Vnto the world : and some for gold may use it . Should she be nigardly , she must abuse it ( As she conceives ) she keeps her private trading , To help at need ; her husbands trade is fading . Nature ( she thinks ) is faine to take direction , To limb her parts , and work by her complexion . Now he is urg'd to pay what he doth owe ; Creditors come thick ; debts come in but slowe . He strives a time , with all that he can doe , He cannot chuse , but he must break in two . His shop 's shut up , goods gone , but where 's the man ? He 's stept aside : but find him if you can . Let time betray him , I will ne're reveale him ; My Teltale Muse is bound now to conceale him . To sum up what he ow'd is but in vaine , ( Vnlesse there were some hopes the debts to gaine ) Or shew the parcels , or to name the men He ow'd it to , ( they 'l never trust agen . ) Or of their meetings , how they cur'st such debtors , And how they vow'd to put his shanks in fetters If ere they catcht him : how they went about To sue the Statute of a Bankrupt out : What debts were due to him , how few were good , How those lamented that engaged stood For such as he ; how he at last was found , Or how he offer'd eighteen pence i' th' pound : The time he lay in prison , or the need That he was in ; how they at last agreed : How he was chang'd , the creepers that he had , Or how his mind , was ev'ry whit as bad ; How he was sleighted , now he was so poore , And how he scorned every man before . I 'le passe them all : my Muse was going hence , She 's turn'd agen to make you recompence . Now in this time , his wife hath found a way That they may live as merry as the day ; If he 'l consent ; her beauty hath been seene , By one of note ; and like a demy-queene He do's respect her ; she is come to know Her worth at large , nor will she look so low As he hath done : now time hath blaz'd her fame , She 'l venter broken ware , and trade with shame . Vpon returne she runs her taile ashore , Yet deals by retaile as she did before . There 's one will venture with her , that hath try'd How she will truck , he will not be deny'd . If he can get the cuckold to consent , And keepe the doore , he 'l give him good content . He shall not break agen , nor ever be Constrain'd to suffer any misery : He 'l give him money , pay his rent beside , Beare all his charges , onely he must hide His foule offence : he must be blinde , or winke When ere he comes , and into corners slinke Till such an houre : that Pimp doth know his time , He 'l nor be seen till they have done the crime . The children call him father — Hush not a word , perhaps the man is great And stor'd with wealth , and has a lofty seat , And loves his lust ; or being serpent wise , He 'l take advantage , then he 'l tyrannize . Though he be great , if goodnesse be forgotten , 'T will make him and his name the sooner rotten . If he have wealth , 't is but an empty thing , Nor will it save him from that fearfull sting Of sin and death : if honour 't is he 'd have , Can any honour keep men from the grave ? Though he be set aloft , yet down he must , And be e're long laid levell with the dust : Or if he loves his lust , the sooner he May fall by 't , and the shame and misery Will dog him to his end ! his soule will bleed ! Oh! then he 'l meet one that is great indeed . Though he be wise to raise a horrid evill , And crush a truth ; 't is the soule murdering devill That helps him in 't : oh heaven , blast that arme , That takes a cause to doe the guiltlesse harme ! Such tyrants that rebell against the lawes , They can but snarle , for God cuts off their clawes . Our lawes doe cut lascivious persons downe ; Not cob-web lawes , that men of great renowne May break by force ; they are not made for flies ; The Rich , the Noble , if they doe despise The force of them ; shall quickly feele the smart : They are no scarcrowes , but they 'l peirce the heart . Me thinks th' example of a gracious king Might draw mens hearts from this accursed thing . So chast , soloving to his Royall Queene , In any age no sweeter patterne seene . Who would but follow ! ( Lord preserve his life ) Was ever Prince more faithfull to a wife ? Oh , let this patterne keep us all in awe ! Who has such power ? who yeelds more to the law ? All men can judge , in this I doe not flatter : If any Critick do's , it is no matter . You Cynick brood , should I ( for feare of you ) Hide truth that 's plaine ? let Princes have their due . Here I could dwell , but love constraines my will To leave his praises to an abler quill . But if the practice of so sweet a Prince Will not prevaile , such sinners to convince ; Then let his Scepter fall upon all those , Let them be numbred with his hatefull foes ? My Muse is only bent against this sinne ; If by her chidings she can any winne From hel's wide mouth , and keep some back from thence Good words will serve , to make a recompence . She tries her skill , and beares the paine , and cost ; If she prevaile not , 't is but labour lost . The med'cin's sharp , the Patients must endure . A desp'rate wound must have a desp'rate cure . But to returne back to the Imp againe , ( My Muse is full , and overcharg'd with paine To vent her mind : ) me thinks I spy him yonder , It should be hee , he looks so like a pander ; 'T is he , 't is he , now I will break my mind , Call Satyres too , and pay him in his kind . Thou fowlbred vassall I was there any age That ever brought thy like upon the stage ? Do'st sell thy selfe , and put to sale thy name ? What is thy gaine , but never dying shame ? Thou pawnst thy soule and all ; do'st think to dwell For ever here ? oh ! who shall fill up hell But shamelesse vermine ! these thy hatefull crimes Shallmake thy name the canker of the times . Thy wife 's a whore ; thou art consenting to it , The guilt will catch thee , with a curse to doe it . I never knew a villaine in my life Before , that was a pander to his wife . Whores will increase , if they can be so hid , And speed as well as I. O. B. N. did . Speak , doth she play the whore by thy command ? Or art thou forct in feare of her to stand ? Or is 't for maintainance ? or else the care Thou hast to pack off rotten broken ware ? Art thou bewitcht ? or low of stature borne That she must raise thee higher by the horne ? Art thou no cuckold , in thy dull conceit , Vnlesse thou bearst upon thy back the weight To make her common ? or hast thou a mind To follow whores , and pay her in her kind ? That makes but hell the hotter ; is 't not true ? Except thou turne , hell-fire is thy due ? There thou wilt meet thy sin , and thou shalt see , The devill will commit a rape on thee . Thou lt curse thy wife , if hell once grasp that whore , Cerberus will like a Pander keep the dore . Such sinners stay not long , the earth denies Them room to tread on ; away the aire flies , And leaves them breath lesse ; hell her fee will crave ; The earth is vext t' afford such Imps a grave ! Where sin makes way , death is invited thither , They are acquainted , and they go together . Thy customers will faile , leave thee accurst , Then thou wilt break worse than thou didst at first . Thou 'lt be but sport for boyes , and scorn for all , And who will then be grieved at thy fall ? They 'll point and say , this Pimp of late did swagger , And roar about , but now he 's grown a begger . He wants his capons , pigeons , choice of wine , And suits of silke , he 's bare , and like to pine . And when the whore with shame is turn'd thus off , ( Old and diseas'd . ) she 'l be the common scoffe : She 'l slily wander up and down the street , And trade for three pence : if shee can but meet Some simple gull that 's newly grown in date , She 'l rise to six pence ; or a higher rate . She cannot work but onely with her taile , And when her truck for three pence once doth faile , Perhaps she 'l use her hands , and learn to palter , And end her dayes in Bridewell , or a halter . But if you both enjoy your pleasures here , And suck the sweet of sin , being free from feare , And spend your dayes in pomp , and that you have Enough to build a Record o're your grave ; Alas ! what is 't besides your living shame ? Then who are winners ? reckon not the game Before 't is play'd . Some dy'd in state , we know , That had their graves in flaming hell below . They tooke their leaves of pleasures , and they go From painted joyes , into eternall woe . Leave sin in time ( and do your best endevour To purge your soules ) or sin will sink you ever . Time cals away ( adieu ) I think you 're vext , I le speake more freely when I meet you next .

SECT. 48. Of a black impudent Slut that more a dressing of faire hayre on her head , and black patches on her wrinkled tallow-face ; and her reply answered . WHat is this Imp that trades in borrow'd ware ? She 's black like darknesse , trim'd with morning hair , Speak , art not thou a hatefull bird of night ? Or art a Viper ? or with seeming light Dost think to gull the world , t' increase thy hire ? Thou canst not cozen nature : thy desire Is fruitlesse , vaine ; thine black was known to be , Like Cypresse shade ; the borrow'd's light like thee . But pr'y thee tell me , is thine owne out-worn , Being often over-heat ? or only shorn , Because 't was black ' or else because the grey Was ming led with it ? thou didst change't away For private reasons , 'cause it ever told The truth of thee , in saying thou wer told ; And thou would'st still be young , and that betray'd thee : Thou should'st have don 't before time had bewray'd thee , Didst thou disdaine what nature did bestow On thee as dowry ? didst thou never know 'T was nearest thy complection ? was 't not strange To leave thy owne and take the worst in change ? Mubh like a snake oregrown with age , and then Thou 'dst cast thy skin , and so grow fresh agen . But couldst thou change thy skin , then thou might'st passe For currant ware , though thou art nasty trash ; But then all must be chang'd , thy theeth , thine eyes , Thy wrincles must be fil'd , and that which lies Forsaked of the blood , must be renew'd : Thy veines must shew themselves ; all must be view'd , If this were done , thou mightst be kept for store , Then who durst take thee for a common whore ? Besides , thy name must quite be changed too , ( Though 't be a trick , as queans doe use to doe ) Or else for Names-sake , thou must beare the staine , And none will speak to thee but in disdaine . These are but words of course ; nor can it bee Time should consent to paint a hide for thee . Suite with thy selfe , cast off thy purcha'st ' haire , Weare what 's thine owne ; if Nature leaves thee bare , Hide still thy head ; leave off thy lust and pride , Ot thou 'lt be wonder'd at when thou art spi'de . Nay , more I say , the patches on thy face Doe shew thy folly , speak to thy disgrace . What , do'st thou think them to be ornaments ? Or that they 're like to further thy intents ? Or vile desires ? thy furrow'd cheeks are yellow ; Thy beetle browes are colour'd just like tallow . The gracelesse crew , and all the roaring Sparks , Know black , and yellow , are not beauties marks . I am afraid ( but take it as a wipe ) Thy patches shew that thou art rotten ripe . Pull off thy playsters , for they cover scabbs , Which are the marks ( oft times ) of lust full drabbs . Who taught thee 't ? was 't a witch , a whore or devill ? For such are forward'st in all kind of evill . ( The poysoning witch that did to Tiburne march , Was held the first , that brought up yellow starch ) Did Turne-bull street first find it ? tell me then Is 't not a hide-shame made to poyson men ? Or did the trulls of Shore-ditch find it first ? To trap poore gulls ? speak who ? if any durst . It is conceiv'd 't was us'd at first by those , To hide the grincomes , or a pocky nofc . What serv'st thou for ? but to disgrace the age Or t' make a pupper , t' act the suries rage ? thou 'dst better buy some painting , there 's some made , Both red , and white , by one that drives the trade : 'T is very cheap ; and common whores may have it ; And being cheap , the Gallants will not crave it : 'T is very stiffe : the worst is in the close , 'T is temper'd with the droppings of her nose . Thou must not use it cold , for so 't is ill : First warme thy selfe in Bride-well at the mill , Or at the hemp-block , and thy graine being rough , Will drink it in ; so done , it 's dainty stuffe . I would have holpe thee to 't , hadst thou not vex't ; Casheere thy spots , and when I meet thee next , I 'le tel thee where 't is sould . Thy black within Is worse than that ; which are the spotts of sin , But these doe represent thee to the levell Of eyes , and thoughts , to be a female divell . Thou art not like to hell ; for this I know , Thy face is full of springs , thou burn'st below ; But yet 't is strange , although the water's higher , And constant runs it cannot quench the fire ! Hold her , she 's mad my friends ; pray come not near her , Her chapps doewag , she 'le speak , stand still and heare her Is Bedlam broke ? or art thou now growne mad ? You saucy jack ! am I ? am I so bad As thou wouldst make me ? no , I scorne thy prate , Sir , stay your clack , your boldnesse I doe hate . Th' art either mad , or drunk , I 'le pawne my life , Or else thou wouldst not sow nor stir up strife , Th' art both I see ; Tom simple's mad or mellow : A drunken man is still the busiest fellow The earth affords ; hadst thou not lost thy wits , I for a need could shew some Bedlam fits To make thee wilde ; but modesty restraines me : Am I a whore ? who is it that disdaines me ? What though I weare a dressing on my head Of other haire ? I did not rob the dead , Nor borrow it for time : the truth I 'le tell , 'T was given me by one that lov'd me well : If he were here my part hee 'd quickly take , And make thee run : I we are it for his sake . All helps that nature can to give content . May we not use ? , this is my ornament . Thou dost not like my looks ; then keep away Till I send for thee ; time may come I may Take just revenge ; but till thy braines are settl'd I will not do 't ; then , faith I 'le have thee nettl'd . Thou railst against the patches on my face Which are by wiser judg'd to be a grace . I 'de have you know , you idle prating foole , I did not goe to learne at shore-ditch schoole ; Nor yet at Clarken-well , but at the Court Where Ladies oft , and gallants doe resort To learne new fassions : there thou dost abuse What Ladies with my selfe , and gallants use : If 't were so bad as thou wouldst make it , then It would not be esteem'd 'mongst gentlemen . Thou durst not for thy life speak halfe so much To courtly gallants ; nor to any such That are of Noble birth : thy rude proceeding Do's shew , thou ne're didst taste of gentle breeding . Abuse a gentlewoman ! my fingersitch ! Is sparke , or Lady , devill , whore , or witch ? Say 't if thou dar'st : for they first found it out , Therefore'tis lawfull : Why should any doubt ? Whatere I doe I have examples for it : What matter i's t though threed-bare fooles abhor it What thou hast said , I sweare I 'le make thee prove it : But for the Law , 't is known I doe npt love it . Nor will I rare my selfe so low ; the prize Is not worth winning ! hang 't 't is all but lies : Go , get thee gone , I pay for rent and dyet : What , in my chamber can I not be quiet ? Pray mistris hackney , coole your grease a little , A gentle-woman raile ! you learnd at spittle . I am not mad ( in giving you your due ) ( Nor yet a foole ) I speak but that that 's true . Thy false attire does but spread thy name , Thy patches doe not hide , but note thy shame : Thy haire 's a token , given by a friend , That , and thy patches , marke thee like a fiend , Thy recknings hald , which shewes thou art a wench , Whose face is Negro-like , whose head speaks French , If Ladies use it , can they set thee free From death ? or hell ? or any miserie ? Will gallants plead , and say it is no sin ? Let loosers prate , say , didst thou ever win Respect from any by 't ? examples doe Bespeake a hell , and make thee guilty too . I cannot think , that Courtiers are such sotts To borrow heads , or trim themselves with spotts , Vnlesse they 're old , or by mischance growne bare ; Or t'hide some faults : 't will help such crazy ware . I will not answer what thy vip'rous tongue Hath mutter'd out , though thou hast done me wrong . I's t not too much that thou so long hast bin A prostitute ? and do'st thou now begin T'rake hell afresh , because thy old sin leaves thee Against thy will ? till death of life bereaves thee , Who can expect thy change ? hell longs to greet thee Adiew ; take heed , the divell comes to meet thee .

SECT. 49. Of a Band that hired a Maid , and not proving to her expectation , shee accuseth her of theft . A modest maid that had a comely face , And all her parts well suted with such grace As free'd her from defect ; so was her mind Enricht with vertue , few she came behind . Her fortunes were but poor , being meanly bred : Of meanes sh 'had little store , her friends were dead To service she must goe , no other way She has to live , unlesse she 'd go astray ; But that she hated . As she went abroad To seek a place , she met a common bawd , Who did salute her thus : What ailes my pretty maid to look so sad ? What , all amort ? fie , this is too too bad ! Pluck up thy heart , and chide away thy folly : Tho'lt spoile thy face , if thou grow'st melancholy . Thou' rt fatherlosse , 't is true , but what of that ? Cast of thy dumps , for care will kill a cat . Come , dwell with me , I 'le be to thee a mother , I 'le thee maintaine , thou needst not care for other ; I 'le give thee so much wages , thou shalt find it Twice doubled too ; hold , here 's a piece to bind it . This harmelesse soule mistrusting nothing lesse Than what she most intended ; to expresse Her thankfulnesse , she did receive the gold , ( Yet craving pardon that she was so bold ) And soon consented ; thought her self so blest , That Fate could never alter nor molest Her happinesse . Then home with her she went , And spent some time in civill merriment . The mistris and the maid so well agreed , With good discourse , and scripture too for need The bawd could use : and little work to doe , The maid lik'd that ; her fate was costly too . But yet e're long , finding what house she kept , What guests came in by night , what vermine crept About in holes ; and how they fear'd the watch , How she was tempted , how they striv'd to catch Her at advantage ; she resolv'd at length ( Fearing she should be tempted past her strength ) To leave her promis'd hopes ; she valued more Her honesty , than all ill gotten store . Her eyes dropt pearly teares , her heart did ake , Which curb'd her tongue awhile , at last she spake : Mistresse : 'Pray free me now , my mind can never beare Such impious crimes , I dayly see and heare I tooke you for my friend , you are my foe , To seek my ruine thus ; pray let me goe . Are these your proffer'd favours ? let not me Share any of them : truth , and honestie Shall be my portion : let my punishment Be publick made , if ever I consent To such allurements : how my soule doth hate 'em ! I 'm asham'd to think on 't , much more to relate them . A bawdy-house ! I scorn 't ! wil 't not be said , There goes the Bawd , and yonder comes her maid ? It is a place of note , I must confesse : Let Bawds be noted more : I noted lesse . Have I not watcht all night t' attend a knave , And selve a whore ? ah , what a place I have ! I see your end was ( when you were so free With shewes of love ) to make a whore of me . Time shall consume , ere I will once endeaver To buy my shame , or sell my soule for ever . Here , take your earnest ; how was I deceiv'd With flattering words ! I was of sense bereav'd By your enchantments : never foole was fonder ; I did not think to serve nor Bawd , nor Pander . With that the choler of the Bawd did rise , Her rage grew hot , the sparklings of her eyes Like bals of wildefire did present a wonder : So much of lightning ! yet there comes no thunder . Like furious fire that can finde no vent , Striving for freedome , still the more 't is pent ; So was she swell'd ; her spleene being mixt with gall , Which faine she 'd vent , yet could not speak at all . Her looks were pale with envie ; as she stands Moving her jawes , and trembling with her hands . Her silence vext her more , she grew more curst ; Guilt seizeth on her : she must vent , or burst . Then turning to the maid , and as she spy'd her Disgorg'd her spleene , but yet it fell beside her . Like roaring Megg discharg'd , she shakes the ground ; Or like an empty hogshead , gives more sound For being worthlesse : thus she doth begin : This 't is to take a paultry begger in : Thou beggers brat ! what , what haile fellow now ? You saucie baggidge ! goe , you dirty sow ! I tooke thee up ( because thy friends were dead ) Of charity : and now thou giddy-head , Dostslight my love ? you scorne to take a turne , Thou nothing knowst , yet nothing thou wilt learne . Thou maist do worsc , thou simple foole , thou gull , I 'de laugh to see thee turne a Tinkers trull . Who 'd be so troubled with such lazie sluts ? They 're good for nothing , but to mind their guts . Will you be gone ? I vow I 'le have thee bang'd , Thou draggle-taile ! and then goe and be hang'd . But stay you queane , there 's something else behind , And that I think which will not please your mind . Nay , neverstare , nor put it off with pishes ; Thou 'st lost and melted me ten pewter dishes ; And broke my China-ware ; thou paultry elfe ; Thou 'lt ne're be worth an earthen dish thy self . Who burnt my gorget minion ? wa st not you ? For that alone a whipping is thy due . Thou pilf'ring jade , I lately lost two rings , With handkerchiefs , and divers other things : Who had 'em but thy selfe ? I 'le sweare they 're gone : 'T is plain thou 'st stole them , strangers there came none , Nay , doe not cry , for crying will not free thee : Confesse thy faults , and fetch 'em , let me see thee . But if thou dost refuse , or once deny it , I 'le shame thee quite ; the Sessions , that shall try it . Thou arrant thiefe , I misse a silver bowle ; Thou hast that too , I dare to pawne my soule : How should it else be gone , but by thy hands ? Thou cozening drab ! how like a foole she stands ! You 'l be no whore , fie , fie , you doe abhorre it ; A thiefe thou 'lt be ; may I not hang thee for it ? Thy looks speak guilty , and this truth relating , Hath cool'd thy haughty mind , and spoyld thy prating . So said , she stopt : this guiltlesse maid 's in feare ; Her griefe breaks sorth , and now and then a teare Glides downe her cheeks : nor would she have it spy'd ; As 't fals , still with her handkerchiefe 't is dry'd . She turn'd her face , and did bewaile her wrong ; Faine she would speak , but anguish staid her tongue . Sometimes she thought the justnesse of her cause Would beare her out , but then the rigorous lawes Would dash her hopes ; the cause must there proceed By evidence ; not as it is indeed . She 's confident the Bawd will sweare a lye : What hope 's there , but the innocent must dye ? Yet gaining strength , she spoke ( for truth breeds trust ) Why should I think the Gods will prove unjust To quit the guilty ? bring the innocent Vpon the stage , to suffer punishment ? Astrea still remaines , to ease my mind ; Though Poets feigne so , Iustice is not blind . Why am I vext ? why , why am I so sad ? I am accus'd for what I never had . If Iustice misse the mark , I can but dye ; My vertue lives ; thus farre resolv'd am I. Then turning to the bawd , she thus reply'd : I 'm not the first that ever was bely'd By shamelesse bawds ; you raise an ill report Against my life , but Vertue is my fort . Had I but seene your baudry , and been mute , Or bent my selfe to be a prostitute , All had been husht ; your handkerchiefs and rings , Your silver bowle with sundry other things Had ne're been stollen : nor are they ; you are curst , Because I would not yeeld ; but doe your worst . I 'le set you out in colours , and I 'le shew To all the world no more than what I know . The Constable and Watchmen found your Imps , Your crue of harlots , and your par-boyld Pimps ; And some they took to Bridewell ; but the rest Flew out like owles to find another nest . Yet they were over-taken in their flight , Some housd in Wood-street though they flew by night ; One in the Poultry , though against his will ; Some to the Fleer , and there they tarry still . A handsome girle you saw , and needs you 'ld buy her ; Then like a hackney put her out to hier . Your house is Sodom-like , and yet withall , It seemes againe to be an Hospitall . The foule stain'd bratts that sinn'd there , and endur'd Their punishments , come thither to be cur'd . Some want their sight , some hearing , some their smell , Some cannot speak the language plaine of hell . Some out of date , some tatter'd , want a fleece , Some want a nose , and others but a peece . These are the scholers of your Vaulting schoole : And'cause I would not prove my selfe a foole To damne my soule ; youl 'd prove me now a theife . I feare you not ; for I shall find releife . When you shall beare your shame ; I pray begin , Prefer your bill , put your indictment in . Now all this while the bawd amazed stood , And look't much like a piece of rotten wood : She sweats with envy , but her heart was cold ; And wonder'd that the maid could be so bold . Her fingers itcht , and yet she durst not fight , She growl'd , and snarl'd , but yet she could not bite . Her words she bore in mind , which vext her heart ; She 'd faine indite her , but she fear'd the cart . Now she resolves to prosecute the maid , But then she thinks her bawdry'll be bewraid . Still when her spleene did presse her on to doe it , Shame stops the suit , she had no mind unto it . Now she 'ld proceed , but that she 's kept in awe With horrid guilt ; not do's she love the law . Then thus she spake : Come , be not vext , I spoke these words to try thee , They 're worse than devills that will once bely thee . To say the truth ( I 'le speak what is thy due ) Thou hast been honest , carefull , just , and true . Speak well of me , feare not , for I protest , Where ere thou art , I 'le never thee molest . Take what is thine , go , make no more adoe . The bawd departs , and glad she 's scap't so too : Muse , dog her not , but let me rest my pen : For at the Sessions , you may meet agen .

SECT. 50. The Confession of a theiving Whore , at the time of her Execution . I Heard of late there was a Hackney jade , And for her need , she 'd use a theiving trade : She scap't a while , but vengeance did assault her , Brought her at last i' th' compas of an halter . Her life was vile ; shame forc'd her to confesse it , Guilt broke the way , and thus she did expresse it : When I was yong ( my bringing up was rude ) My friends did think , that which the multitude Did most approve of , that must needs be best ; I had my will , and so liv'd like a beast . I mock't at goodnesse ; though my father spide it , He 'd fawn , and laugh ; my mother too would hide it . Ill company at last causd me to prove A prostitute : good nature mixt with love 'T was nam'd with us ; the father from the sonne I didintice , till both were quite undonne . I often rob'd the father of his child , And curst the mother , though she was most mild . I drew the husband from his loving wife : That being done , I sow'd betwixt them strife . And servants from their Masters I did keep ; We spent their goods whil'st they were fast a sleep : I made them steale , cheat , pilfer , and purloine : How e're it came , if I could get but coine , I never car'd ; or any man that came Which brought but money , I nere ask't his name , Nor what he was , his life , nor where he dwelt : He had his will when I his money felt . If any one had a good mind to play A game in love , and yet was loth to pay ; I 'de pick his pockets ; money , or a watch , Or any thing of worth that I could catch , Was ali mine owne : but he would ne're reveale ir , ( For feare of shame ) though he knew I did steale it . If any one had spent on me his stock , Forrecompence , I paid him with a mock : And curst him too ; then with a rayling scoffe I sent him packing : thus I cast him off . When trading fail'd , I had a trick as ill , I 'de cut a purse , or steale , for I had skill In all those wayes : at last the fowle disease Had brought me low , and I could find no ease . It griev'd my heart , I could no longer sin . As I was wont : such case then I was in ! Yet I resolv'd to take what e're was brought By high-way theives , or cut-purses : I taught Them how to do 't : house-breakers , or the rest : Who e're was most expert , was my chiefe guest . The cheating crew , did make me their receiver , For whoredome , theft , and for a false deceiver None went beyond me . I am brought this day To suffer for 't , and I my life must pay . Take warning all by me , avoyd those crimes , You that are guilty ; oh ! repent betimes ? Sin will but cheat you , flatteringly 't will wooe you , Like Crocodiles , it will at last undoe you . Now for my sins I feare I must go fry With Iesaebel , in flames eternally , My conscience tels me , what 's my sinful hire . Drive , drive away , me thinks I feele hell fire . But after this she staid a little space : Then as she drew the cloth down o're her face , Said , world , adiew ! with thee I leave my staine : Oh! I shall never see the light againe ! The paine , the shame , the anguish of my heart Thus said ; the car-man drew away the cart Vpon command , but left his load behind : I cannot think the halter eas'd her mind . Of all her gaines , sh 'ad nothing lest to pay For bur'ing of her corps : but by the way Her grave is made : the hang-man put her in 't , And here her Epitaph is put in Print . Her Epitaph . Here lies a monster of the Female kind ; So serpent-like ! her venom 's mixt with shame : Yetlike a mole she turnd ; fur she was blind : Or like a dragon , but she was too tame . Some part from woman , more from beasts had shee . She was most fowle , and dy'd upon a tree .

SECT. 51. Of a Prodigall Man that run out of all , and how his wife turn'd whore . A Simple man , that was both poore and prowd , That strain'd himselfe beyond what was allow'd By his estate : his raverne meetings cost More than he got : his time being dayly lost : With costly suits , with rich and dainty fare His wife and he did live still free from care : He to grow fearelesse oft did charge his braine With Claret , Sack , the fruits of France and Spaine . Having the dropsie , he could not quench his thirst , He strain'd so long , till at the last he burst . His calling cast him up , and his estate Deny'd him bread , being over-rul'd by Fate . He saw his folly , and he was perplext : But 't was too late , alas ! in vaine he vext ! His former ways grew hatefull in his sight : His heart grew heavy , but his wife turn'd light , Lascivious Goat ! she will hold up her port : And any Ape that will to her resort , Finds entertainment : yet he still is kind , And charmes her oft , but cannot change her mind . She scornes him : he gives her nor cloathes , nor diet : She 'l have a place , where she may live at quiet : She being gone , his mind doth him importune To go beyond sea , and to seek his Fortune . Away he went ; but yet in three yeares time Came back with hope this whore had purg'd her crime . At first , by chance he met her in the street , ( Wrapt in a bag , perfum'd with civet sweet , ) Saluted her ; discourst things that were past : H'was glad to see her ; there came by at last A Gentleman ( it seemes ) her name he knew , He 'd give her wine , acquaintance to renew . She left her husband , giving him this reason , She 'd talk with him ; but at a fitter season . Poore man ! he 's dry , yet cannot with her drink : Another must , how such a whore doth stinck ! He lets 'em go ; was 't not a simple swaine ? His wife is prov'd to be a whore in graine .

SECT. 52. Of a Whore proving with child , that laid it to many to get money . A pamper'd trull that made a trade of sin , She had a trap which she caught wood cocks in . Her carriage shew'd that she was void of grace ; Her riches all were sum'd up in her face . She had a husband that did cloke her shame , A season'd Cuckold ; faine I 'de tell his name If 't were worth naming ; but to let him passe A parboil'd Rams-head , or the Devils Asse . This strumpet had been chaffring with her ware ; If she could trade , with whom she did not care : Nor did she stand with all , for present pay , ( Such whole-sale dealers , often give some day For their returne ) and many had been buying Her stale breath'd ware ; and sundry more were trying To drive the bargaine : customers she had , Some kept their day , some broke it , some ran mad , Some paid her weekly , those were rare , and strange , Some alwayes paid her when the Moon did change , Some halfe a year , as they at first did barter : But most agree'd to pay within the quarter . This trading made her swell , and she grew proud , Her belly swel'd , alas ! I speak too lowd : She 's rig'd and fraught , her keel is large and big : She wallows out , much like a sow with pig , Amongst her customers : she gives a bill To everyone , and then they know her will ; What ware she has inclosed in her boat , And how she 'l truck , 't is all within her note : In trading mit they shall themselves enthrall , It will not vent , and so 't will break them all . They all dislik't , and shewd it by their looks : But being run so far into her books , They 're in distresse : the principall with use She 'le make them pay : this is a fowle abuse ! Each one must take it all , if not a part , And ev'ry one is gald , and vext at th' heart . ' To take this ware none of them will agree ; Yet know 't to be a quick commoditie . The case is clear , and yet in doubt it stands ; Though it be quick , 't will lie upon their hands : They all compound ; her chapmen give her fleeces , Some five , some ten , of some sh' has twenty peeces : So they agree'd ( or else it had been try'd ) And they are faine to pay old scores beside . Here 's subtile traffique , though this whore be prest , I'dehave her art conceal'd from all the rest ; But let her shame be known , that all may say This whore put sin to use , and had her pay . Let those that traffique with her be content To bear the shame , the losse , the punishment , And ever after bend their care to strive T' avoid such gulfes , which swallow men alive .

SECT. 53. Of a man that was sick for another mans wife . A harmelesse man a journey undertook , His country , and his wife a time forsook To seek his owne beyond the Sea ; and when He had obtain'd it , home he came agen . But e're he had accomplisht his intent , There fell at home a shamefull accident : A man fell sick of lust , it grew so strong He must have cure , or live he could not long : But who must help him , but this poor mans wife . She , only she 't is must restore his life . A man , said I ? a brute , a bull , a bore . He 's sick to have a woman turne a whore . H' has wife , and children , but he wil not owne them , He 's sick , and looks , as if he had not known them . His wife and friends must now reveale his mind To her , to try , if she will be so kind To entertain the motion , grant his suite To save his life ; and be his prostitute . Oft she was urg'd ; but she at first deny'd : Her tender feare judg'd if he should have dy'd , 'T had been her sinne ; then she at last consented Vnto his lust ; the goat was then contented . Thou brat of Sodome ! how canst thou but think Thy shame will make thy name for ever stink ! Thou mightst have bent thy heat ( thou filthy gull ) Vpon a cow , as Pasiph'e , on the bull . Me thinks a halter might have given thee ease ! 'T is present cure for such a hot disease . It would have rais'd the heat , and plac'd the fire Close to thy eare , and quencht thy foule desire . Hadst thou no minde to 't ? wa st restrain'd by feare ? What pitie 't was the hangman was not there ! This Rascal 's now restor'd and do's delight In 's new-made whore ; and she affects the sight Of rustick Iack : they on each other fawne , He sells his goods , and she layes hers to pawne , To beare their charges at their meeting places ; And every day they see each others faces . If she repent , he 'l sweare he 'l make her knowne , Then she is constant ; now the whore 's his owne . They give themselves to dally , sport , and revell , Their words and works make pastime for the divell . Is Cupid guilty ? then I le make a rod , ( And lime the twigs ) to whip this apish god . His wife that gave consent to this at first , And beat the bargaine , thinks her selfe accurst . She wooed her to asswage his hellish heat , She 's punisht for 't : she has no bread to eat . His feigned friends , that were as panders to him , Doe grieve with shame ! their counsell did undoe him But now this man 's return'd ; he 's at the dore , And little thinks his wife is turn'd a whore . He 's now come home , and thinks himselfe much blest , His wife growes bigge , great joy is here exprest ! A sonne is borne ; the birth is in the prime , But yet it came two months before the time , But he ne're counted time ; ( he had no feare ) For he had bought no Almanack that yeare . 'T was christned , put to nurse , nor was it knowne , By him , or others , but that 't was his owne . Yet shortly after , though it was conceal'd , Time was asham'd on 't : so it was reveal'd . Shame forc'd her to to confesse ; and then she did Disclose her whoredome , though before 't was hid . Had you but seene the teares that he did vent When this he heard , and found his goods were spent , It would have mov'd your hearts : he could not speake , He 's swell'd with griefe , as if his heart would breake ! Doe travells breed such fruit ? is this my paines To bring forth shame ? he inwardly complaines . How shall I shew my face ! how shall I stand Against reproach ! or tarry in this Land ! My pulses work , my spirits doe rebell ; My forhead's hard , my hornes begin to swell ! This child 's my shame , 't is guiltlesse , who 'd disdain it ? I got it not , and yet I must maintaine it : When I went hence , how poore was I ! but thou In proving light , hast made me poorer now , My comfort and my riches , was my wife : But failing ! now , I 'me weary of my life ! To ease his griefe , he thought to make that slave A dread to all ; but then this shamelesse knave Slinks out of sight : his house had cast him out , His goods are gone , he sneaks and sharks about , Sends threats & scoffs to him , which made him stagger ; He left his sute , for Iack was grown a begger . Then staying here a time with discontent , He took his luggadge and away he went . Time , place , earth , sea , do all the best you can ; How e're she speeds , shew favour to the man !

SECT. 54. Of a dunghill whore , and a pander ; how they abused a man of worth ; and how they suffer'd shame at last . THere did appear a monster in our time , Who travel'd long , at last brought forth a crime Vnknown to any age : nor did it end her : She was a female of the common gender , Perverse , and proud , malitious , envious , curst , An Infidel ; I should have nam'd that first . Grosse ignorance did run along betwixt , And Atheisme was with al distempers mix't ; She learnd of none but of the murd'ring devill ; The wit she had , was only to do evill . She did not know but Pluto was her maker : And her descent was from a dunghil-raker . Her fathers Castle , freed her from the Law , Being wal'd with mud , thatch't with a trusse of straw . 'T was seven foot in height , judge you the strength : Six foot in breadth , but ful nine foot in length . So Negro-like her face appear'd in hew , But that the black was too much mix't with blew , Her snout grew double , both the currents great ; Where streams ran down stil to asswage the heat . Her eyes were charg'd with bullets ; and her tongue By statute measure , was a nayle too long . Her lipps kept at a distance very oft , ( To those that had a mind ) she kist as soft As hedge-hoggs bristles : and her teeth stood out Beyond the palest ' affront her daring snout . Her limbs did al agree ; being thick and large , They did contribute to each others charge ; Her pride lay in her joynts , they would not bend : This is her picture ; who can her commend ? A ragged imp , that had a New-gate face , That suted with her ; and as free from grace As she could be ; you 'ld think none were so bad : But here 's a villaine having twice run mad , Growes mad again : and doth imbrace this whore , Both are more shamelesse than they were before , Two second devils could not be more vild ; At last this pander got this quean with child . They rak't the dunghils to invent a plot Who now should keep it , seeing is was got . They pitcht upon a man ( for they were bold ) Should do 't , or else they 'd fleece him of his gold . This man 's a man of worth , of honest name , Of comely person ; goodnesse , truth , and fame Had made him known : a man so wel belov'd , So free from pride , from passion , seldome mov'd With vaine applause ! so constant in his mind , So just , so free , that you shal seldome find A man so qualifi'd ! This Iade comes to him , And speaks him faire , thinking then to wooe him , ( How faire d' ye meane ? 'pray offer me no wrong ; Can one speak faire , with so foule a tongue ? ) And draw him on to give her such a summe Of money ( thought she , ere that he will come To open shame ; he 'l yeeld to fee at large . ) I am with child , I lay it to your charge . But if you will not give me money store , ( Now you have tempted me to be your whore ) I 'le make you answer 't in another place : I 've witnesse that will sweare to your disgrace . This modest man 's amaz'd , but ( yet not mute , ) Replying , said ; from whence wilt raise thy sute ? From hell below ? or from thy hell within ? Thou 'lt be the mother of a hell-borne sin . Thou shamelesse Imp ! thou' rt from the devill sent With hels broad seale , to vex the innocent ! Thou knowst I 'm guiltlesse , dost thou raise this strife , To spoyle my name that 's better than my life ? Oh , hatefull crime ! what wilt thou damne thy soule ? And set thy hand to that black Dooms-day rowle ? Thou 'st plaid the whore , 't is bad ; worse wilt thou do ? To sweare a lye , thou wilt be perjur'd too . Doe , spit thy gall , I will not feare a jot ; He yeeld unto , what justice shall allot ! Nor will I give the money , I will never Support a whore ( how have I loath'd 'em ever . ) Should I seeme guilty , when my soule is free ? Marke but the end , the shame will fall on thee . Iustice will search the truth ; and thou shalt finde , That sinne and shame , will pay thee in thy kinde . This nasty harlot , hearing his reply , Said ; have I been your sweet ? and now must I Be forc'd to fly for succour to the lawes ? 'Faith , you shall know , that I will prove my cause To be so just , that all upon the Bench , Shall credit me . I am no simple wench . Had you but given me coyne I 'de ne're have try'd it : You 'll be undone , alas ! you must abide it ! The losse of credit , with an empty purse ; How e're you slight it , 't is the greatest curse . One fifty pounds had drawn mee to have staid it ; You 'l wish ere long , O! that I had but paid it ! When you shall lay at stake your wealth , your name , Ten fifty pounds then , will not hide your shame . I see't's in vaine for me to use expressions , I 'le speak my minde more freely at the Sessions . Away went she , to have this man indited : The pander sweares , that he will see her righted : They get their tales by heart ; they laugh , and say , Hang 't , there 's no feare , but we shall have the day : The Bill is drawn ; but now they make their moanes Vntill her father sells his marrow-bones , They have no money nor to pay the Clerk , Nor would he trust 'em ; ( one thing more pray mark , Then heare the triall ) see how they were fitted : The time , the place , where he this act committed , Or where he gave the gold they had forgot , Till'twas too late , the difference spoil'd their plot , The Indictment . R. B. Thou standst indited of a fact most vilde , For having knowne , and got A. H. with childe , For having of her body carnalluse ; If this be true , it is a foule abuse . Denying her reliefe , thou mak'st her goe , To beg her bread . Art guilty , yea or no ? Not guilty . They both are sworne , the truth now to expresse , All , but no more : they think of nothing lesse . The first begins , I had a haplesse chance ! I went to service , thinking to advance My fortunes in the world : I met this man , He flatt'red me , and gave me gifts ; I can Relate his words for need ; but to be shorr , He tooke me home , and there he had the sport : I prov'd with childe , went to him , he 'd not owne mee , But lookt , and spoke , as if he had not knowne mee . Yet gave me money , having staid there long : But charg'd me strictly still to hold my tongue : Poore I ! was silent , till the coyne was spent ; Then need enforc'd me , and to him I went : And made my moane in gentle termes , and milde T' allow me money , and to keep the childe : But he 'd doe neither , like a peevish knave ; Prav shew me justice : that is all I crave . The Pander now begins , to tell his tale , But faltring in 't , his colour changed pale . The Iury saw it , and the Iudge did view him ; He call'd the Keeper , and the Keeper knew him ; He had been thrice in prison , whipt , and sear'd , And shoulder-markt beside ; he quakt , and fear'd His shamefull plot ; the hangman by him stood To singe his face , or pickle him in wood . They were examin'd joyntly , and apart , Where , when , the manner , ( Iudges have an art To finde delinquents ) how it came about , What money she received ; and the doubt Was out of doubt , their words did not agree , The Plaintiff's sound , but the Defendant's free . His honest name at first did give a light , The difference in persons shew'd 't was spight . These perjur'd vermine , sentence have received ; ( How oft are sinners , by themselves deceived ! ) A publike whipping first they must abide ; They have a cart , but yet they must not ride : The horse is led , they cannot lose their way , They did before ; by sinne they went astray . They 'd company good store , the Beadles mind ( Though he 's in office ) is to goe behind . His overseers keep him still in sight , And for his work ( poore man ) he 's paid with spight ! So many teachers ? who can give content To all of them , and yet be innocent ? One do's desire favour for the Whore , Another prayes that he would lash her more . As some doe wish him then to pay the slave , Some mov'd with pity , still doe mercy crave . Their faces had no blood , what they did lack , The Beadle searcht , and sound it on the back . They loath'd lane-ends and gutters , ( for this trash ) As well they know there they must have the lash . The Beadle 's charg'd , upon his charge he stands ; The ease they had was resting sor their hands . This punishment being past ; another time , They must be mounted up , to blaze this crime , Vpon a scaffold in the market place , And t'over-looke it ; 't was a simple grace To be preferr'd so quickly , and so high ! Yet this preferment came by perjury . They thrust their heads through windowes , but a gin Doth share them so , they cannot pull them in ; Nor could they creepe quite out ; a cruell spight : They could not sit , nor could they stand upright . They had this place by law ; no wrong I 'le doe them , For they had writing did confirme it to them ; Lest time should make it void , t'confirme it better , The hangman seal'd it , with a red-hor letter . They paid no fine , they should have done 't is true , Where 's nothing to be had , Kings lose their due . But growing carelesse in this high estate , Both fish and flesh , was at as great a rate As 't was before ; complaint was made , ( I find ) The deeds were torne , the seales were left behind , Th' are took away . ( Some , that with pride were stung , Had got the place , but none that kept it long ) By steps of stone they rise as much in height , And had more neck-room , but not quite so light . I leave 'em there , but if they rise againe , And vex the hang-man , putting him to paine He 'l use a trick , to keep them ever down , If ere he catch them one mile out of Town , He 'l give them both lesse neck-room then before ; If thus they fal once , they will rise no more .

SECT. 54. Divers meanes prescribed to cure the sowle disease of lust , suting with all conditions of persons . THe Med'cines that must cure this fowle disease According to my skill ( if readers please To gather patience to digest the rest , They 'l prize the remedies , being here exprest . I 'le shew in order : Morall and Divine , With Naturall helps , as tempers do incline , So must they be appl'd . Thou must begin , First , to consider , 't is a hatefull sin , That heaven still hath curst , the actors thence Are banisht ; for a shamefull recompence , As most unclean ; it is against thy life , Thy soule , thy health , thy substance , friends , and wife , ( If thou hast any ) and the curse , and shame , With wrath and guilt , wil prey upon thy name . Earth will not hold thee long ; while here thou art , Thou dost but for a hel-hound play thy part . Thou cut'st thy time short ; for thy raging lust Infects thy bones , thy flesh ; brings thee to dust Before thou art aware ; mens hate is bred To thee alive ; they 'l loath thee being dead . When heaven , and earth disclaimes thee , hel will take Thee for her owne , where thou thy bed must make In burning flames : repent , repent in time , Or sin will fill thy bones , being laid in slime . Deny occasions , that would tempt thee to it ; Think on thy end , and then thou canst not do it . Subdue the rise of lust ; thy sin will bee Slave like kept in captivity by thee . Observe what others by their lusts have gain'd ; Have they not been disgrac'd , plagu'd , punisht , pain'd ? Those painted pleasures , blasted in the bloom , Fore-run a horrid night ! the day of Doom Will shew thee to the world . Oh! watch and pray ! Or last , and hell , wil hurry thee away : Keep down thy pamper'd flesh with fasting : then Thou wilt forsake such beasts , and live with men . Mind still the presence of the glorious God ; Submit to him in love , but fear his rod , Make bargaine with thy eyes , ne're to behold Faire , wanton objects : rather view the mold , From which thy flesh was fram'd : ( nor hast thou trust ) While here thou stayst , thou art but living dust . Think everie griefe , distresse , disease , or painc , Is sent to rank thy life among the slaine . Thou maist be taken in the cursed act , ( As Zimri was ) and damned for the fact . Shun idlenesse ; if thou art not employ'd In honest wayes , the Devill will divide Thy heart , thy strength , and draw thee to his will , To pleasure him in any thing that 's ill . Thy leasure gives thee leave ; ( thou 'lt work the faster , If Nature spur thee on ) a cruell master He 'l prove at last ; when thou shouldst reap thy gaines , What canst expect , but torment for thy paines ? Beware of drunkennesse ; else that will breed And kindle fewel ; then this shamefull deed Wil hatch it self : when thou hast drown'd thy braines , The fog of lust will then possesse thy reines : They 're neere of kin ; there is no cause of wonder , That evill partners are not far a sunder . The time drawes on , when drunkennesse , and lust Shall have their hell together ; is 't not just That hel should draw them drie ? or is 't not fit , That wittie mad men lose not sense , but wit ? Avoydill custome : 't is no easie thing To change a habit : he 's a true bred King That conquers but himselfe . Sin wil be stronger , And as the evening shadow grows still longer , So custome spreds it selfe . This one thing know , Thou 'st age enough to match with fiends below . If thou be married , 't is the breach of truth Betwixt thee , and the partner of thy youth , Which curses will requite : 't will be a blot To thee and thine , for ever ; and thy lot Will be the like , or worse ; such men do find Lex talionis ( paid home in their kind . ) If thou art single , and thy lust prove strong , Prevent the worst by Marriage : tarrying long May force the floods to overflow the banks ; Then men grow fearelesse , fit for hellish pranks This sin is never single ; it must be Ioyn'd with anothers in adultery : As though the guilty threatning to rebell , Breath'd out disdaine , to go alone to hell . He beares the double sin : though they agreed A little time to sin ; this shame full deed , When done , 't will breed them everlasting odds : They 're painted roses which do turne to rods . Looke on the imperfections of a whore ; Some in her person , but sh 'as worse , and more In disposition : if thou hast but wit , This thing alone may ' swage thy frenzy fit , But if thou hast no skil , or art in doubt , Bring her to me , I 'le help to find ' emout . But if thy lust exceed in strength , being great , Starve it with hunger ; and asswage the heat , With faire coole water ; drink nor wine , nor beere , Till thou hast purg'd thy soule , and made all cleare . Refuse no counsell , let it pierce thy heart , And welcome a reproofe though it seemes smart To thee : 't is wholsome company with such That hate this vice , and love good ; for there 's much Good gotten by them ; they 've no poison'd breath ; In life like such as thou wouldst have at death . Give up thy selfe to Christ : then thou maist say Thou' rt not thine own : thou canst not go astray . To joyne with harlots , for thy soul 's bespoken , The marriage day is set ; his love 's the token Of thy eternal good . Hee 'le ever keep Thee from those vermine that about thee creep . Here 's profit , pleasure , everlasting gaine , Which with consent wil banish all thy paine . View heavens glory ; fixing still thine eyes With confidence , to pierce the lofty skyes : And look beyond thy sense ; and silence reason ; Note well the beauty ; take the blessed season To raise thy heart ; see what reward those find That were not foyl'd with lust , or womankind . But when thou look'st , take this advise of mine , Thinc eyes , thy heart , thy ends must be Divine . Then turne thine eyes tow'ards hel , where thou maist see The plagues , the torments , and the misery That hel-hounds do indure : and that will make Thy raging lust grow tame , thy heart wil ake , To think the swallowing of a blasted pleasure Should gender wrath , endlesse in weight and measure . The potion's mingled , those that drink that cup Their streames of lust will soon be dryed up . Their dainty pallats thirst , th' insatiate whore , With roaring Tom , shall act that sin no more . Their moystur's gone ; but there 's the greater fire Mixe stil with brimstone ; that 's the whorish hire . There are no beauties ; no , nor light to see Except t' be shame , and sins deformitie . They dwell with devils ; and their inward room Is burning hell , their prison , and their tomb . What if thou shouldst when none of these will take , Destroy a member ? some for heavens sake Have done as much ( 't is better thou shouldst cast One part away , than lose thy selfe at last , Mistake me not , I doe not prompt thee to it ; If former meanes prevaile , thou maist not doe it . ) To save his soule who is 't that would not use A certaine cure ? pray here my pen excuse . There 's nothing else , except time dos afford Fresh remedies : ( being ancient ) he is stor'd With cures both old and new : the sinner old , Will leave his lust , or that him , 'cause he 's cold . For physick helps , those that professe that Art Can shew thee , which will calme thy boyling heart , If that should misse ( I think this will not faile ) Live like a begging Fryar in a jayle . Stone wals , and iron grates are very good To temper thee , and qualifie thy blood . But if it be a woman , she must shun Her liberty , work hard , not like a Nun , To stitch a gorget ; but to turne a mill , Or draw a wheelbarrow , though against her will : There are appointed places , 'mong the rest ; ( If I may judge ) the Bridewels are the best . And let the whip lye always in her sight . Let blew-cote beadles lock her up at night , And call her early up , let time be inch't , And of her labour let her not be pinch't . There 's one thing more , which I am loth to name , 'T will strange Iust , but 't will preferre thy shame . Probatum est , 't is nothing but a rope , Made fast and loose , 't is all the hangmans hope , Thy hope , thy pleasure , with thy life will end ; 'T is then too late to say thou wilt amend . The hangman's still in haste , the carmans pay Will not availe to tarry halfe a day . The Priest will pray , but he is never long : He has it ready : when he holds his tongue The pangs of death come on thee ; when thy face Is cover'd ore , oh ! what a fearefull cale Art thou in then ; the men in post will ride , But when they come and find thee dead , fast tyde Vnto a halters end ; the people gone , To Gregory , and thy grave thou' rt left alone . But where abides thy soule ? 'las ! who can know ? I feare 't will be confin'd to dwell below . Remember what I say , read o're this book : Perhaps thou maist in reading love to looke Vpon thine own estate : ( learne to be wise ) 'T is sharp , but wholsome , 't will not blast thine eyes . If 't will but turne thy heart , 't will quit the cost , Or strengthen any , 't is not labour lost . The guiltlesse , and the convert shall for mee Go uncontroll'd . Then let my Muse passe free . Read it with patience ; take what is thy due . I he are the whispring of a bawdy crue : I needs must answer them ? Or they 'l abuse My harmlesse meaning , and my free-borne Muse.

SECT. 56. The supposed railing objections , imprecations of the filthy brood , against the Author , and the Book . A Bawdy knot being met , & having found The Nights Search trenching in their common ground , Began to grumble ; first the Bawd did speak . ● A busie foole , whose brains are sunk , or weak , Hath writ a book ; 't was principally made To shame us all , and overthrow our trade . I heard a gallant speak , as if it came Post with a whip , in Tom a' Bedlams name . 'T is arm'd with fury , every line spits fire ; I wish a halter were the Authours hire ! Pand. I 've bought the book , I heard 't was new come out , I have it here to put you out of doubt : He rails , he frets , with biting jeers in scoffe , Keeps much ado , yet comes but poorly off : He writes of whipping , pillering , and carting , Burning , curses , hanging too at parting . Bawd . Let 's see the book , had'st thou so little wit : To buy such trash ? I 'le serve thee now as fit ; One part shall serve to stop the mustard pot , I 'le burn the rest ; and that shall be its lot . A foole and 's money quickly part ! I see That thou art vext ; wilt be reveng'd on me ? Whore . Pray mistris let it lie to keep all clean , 'T will serve for waste : you know well what I mean . One of my friends shall write to his disgrace , To shew his wit , and in some publique place Cast out a libell , that the world may know His wit is blasted , onely wit in shew ! Pand. I 'me vext to heare you ! did I buy this book To have it burnt or tore ? great pains I took To find it out ; pray , blame me not to frown To see it spoil'd ; it cost me halfe a crown : But bear your shares , we 'l keep 't to shame this sinner , Make it our recreation after dinner , To laugh at 's folly ; then 't will serve to light Tobacco for us every winters night . Bawd . Thou simple foole ! dost think I le have it lse Within my house , our trading to discry ? Some feather'd goose may see 't , and with a fright Forsake the house , and take a further flight : Pray burn it , burn it ; if that asse were here That made the book , we 'ld burn him to , or teare His skin from 's flesh , then he should know how well The place and persons do resemble hell : But 't is no matter , none that loves the sport Of Vénus , or attends at Cupids Court , Will e're regard it , but to laugh and jest At his course wit : I value not the rest . Who. If I may judge , I think he hath been crost In his desire , he hath a beauty lost ; Or else his stock is spent , and being poore , He cannot passe so freely to his whore As formerly he did ; and now in rage He for her sake brings all upon the stage . Or being old , his vigour is abated ; What he lov'd once , he 'd make all think he hated Thus ab initio ; now he writes to strive ( When all things faile ) to keepe his name alive . Could he have known our private wayes , or been Our Secretary , if he had not seen The windings of the clew , or toucht the sore , If he by practice had not known 't before ? Or else he wanting naturall affections , Would have sweet nature follow his drections . He has been in some service overcharg'd ; The mark was hot ; and being now enlarg'd From Bedlam , New-gate , or Chirurg'ons hands . He cannot feele the ground on which he stands , I have been bred to this ; it is my course , I 'd better be a whore than to doe worse . Bawd . I am grown old , nor can I now take paines . This is my trade , which brings me constant gaines . Should I forsake it now ? then call me foole ; I have not liv'd so long , to goo to schoole To such a haire-braind coxcombe : no , I will Beare up delight , drink , and be merry still . He 'd make us think , if flesh and blood rebell , There is no help , but we must goe to hell . We know that many with those faults are tainted , Yet some were goddesses , and some were Sainted . Why should I fear , but I as well may speed ? The Queen of Love I never did exceed . Pand. I came to town thinking to be a groom , But when I came another had the room That I was to supply : and having spent ; My time , my means , being in discontent I took this honest course to gain reliefe ; There 's none can say I am a rogue or thiefe : And yet ( forsooth ) here 's one hath undertook To prove us theeves , and sentence pass'd , nor book Will he allow , which arrant theeves have had . Why do I speak ? this peevish fellow 's mad ! Pimp . I have been brought up in a gentile way , To drink , to swear , to whore , to dice and play : I sold my lands , and spent my whole estate , What should I do , being thus unfortunate ? I am a man that do attend those Lasses That feed me full ; I drink in boules and glasses ? They give me coin , and cloths , with them I finde Such dainty bits as satisfie my minde : Let shame attend this idiot ! let his pen Be silenc'd , forc'd to blot out this agen .

SECT. 57. The railing Objections of an impious crew , answered . YOu brood of darknesse , that do hate the light , And breath out venome , railing , cursing , spight Against the Authour , and his searching Muse , You shame your selves , you cannot him abuse . The Bawd that 's parboil'd , or the Whore that 's stew'd , The rotten Pander , and the Pimp that su'd To have his Muse quite silent , hear th' reply ; Your breath 's unwholsome , pray come not too nigh : But you are powder'd ( that me thinks is well ) To qualifie the stink , and 'swage the smell . I do confesse the book was made to fright , And shame your rabble , that true subjects might Be warn'd by your example , hate your crew ; If I be mad , I 'm onely mad to you . If I would hide your shame , your humours feed , Or act such basenesse , I were mad indeed . What gallant 's that , that doth these lines oppose ? Doth he speak plain ? or snuffle in the nose ? Or are his sinewes lost ? or onely shrunk ? Or has he been at flats ? and being sunk , Blows fume into his braines ? his words may please Your fretting fancies , but not give you ease . Is not his face halfe rosted ? is 't not rich With Rubies , Pearls , and Saphires ? none of which Will passe for gold , to satisfie his whore ; Although his face be rich , his purse is poore . Or do's his face seem cover'd o're with tallow ? Or has disease dy'd it into a yellow ? How opens he his jawes ? has he his haire ? Or is he mop'd a new with borrowed ware ? I feare it is not safe with him to sup , Nor is it wholsome e're to taste his cup : I know the earth doth bear such loathsome men , What their mouth 's take in , runs through th' nose agen ; Butlet him passe . Except the Bawd doth turn , What e're she wish , I fear she 'l hang or burn . The Pander got of late a greater share For keeping of the dore , that he could spare Money to buy this book , but now 't is cast ; Bawd , Pander , Whore have sentence on it past ; Butlet me speak a word , t is but a breath , If it must die , let it be prest to death . What libeller is this the whore would have Write to disgrace the Authour ? let me crave To know what place he lives in ? let his name Be known , that all may blaze abroad his shame . There are a crew that do cast libels forth Against the State ; to slander men of worth They bend their frothy wits ; but time may make Them bear their shame , the rest may warning take . The Pander's vext , put to your helping hands , Pay for the book ; for as the case now stands , You must not burn it ; you may laugh , 't is true , But 's fellowes are alive to laugh at you . Make it your sport , jeere on , you need not say , 'T will shame an asse , or fright a goose away . But if you burn it ( 't will not clear the score ) It is a sign that you were burn'd before . You suit with hell , alas ! what need my pen Compare you to 't ? I 'de turne you back agen , If you 'd be rul'd : but oh ! it is in vain ; The hope I have , is to cut short your train . Your clawes I know are sharp , but is it well That you should goe to sharpen them in hell ? Touch not my flesh , it is dame natures frame That was made up with dust , and to the same E're long it must returne , and so must you , And every one receive what 's just and due . You prize the bad , all good men you detest , As devils do , you count the worst the best . Alas ! my wit is low ( I must confesse ) That little which I have , serves me to guesse What path goes down to death . Though I am poore , I never spent my means upon a whore . It was for no ones sake that I did bring Your vices on the stage , but that the sting Might shew it selfe to all . Nor is it age ; I am but enter'd on the middle stage Of winged time : what God and nature lent Me for a time , shall not be basely spent . My minde , my will I labour'd still to fever From your curst snares ; Lord ! let me do so ever ! As for my name , whether that live or die , Let me be blest with thee eternally . It was my working Genius , and my Muse That sound your windings ; I did never use To haunt your hideous cels ; I never durst To venter there where all are sham'd , some curst . If I have lanc'd the fore , brought you to light , 'T was not experience made me hit so right . Nor am I void of nature , no ; nor been In Bedlam , nor in prison , but have seen The misery of others ! and I find My owne condition futing to my mind . As for the bawd , is it excuse , that she Hath been accustom'd to her bawdery ? Oh! horrid gaines ! what ever it brought in To any one , that drives a trade with sin , Waits still its turne , to make returne in hell ; And keeps exchange , where Devils rage and swell . She scornes to take advise , she thinks all such As Heathens honour'd , ( for they did as much ) Will countenance her sin : ill partners do Bring wrath the sooner , and increase it too ; And let the Pander that did change his place , See how he 's cheated : for he left all grace , Behind him there ; thoug he had suffer'd , loss His expectation ; and been further crost , In losse of time , and money ; yet amends Might have been made : this is a way that tends To crosle his hopes for ever : he 'l know , Except he change his course , 't will bring him low . What is 〈◊〉 but a theife ? God , his own soule He robs 〈◊〉 once ; all goodnesse he 'll controule ; It is his place to steale away mens wealth ; He and the whore , do rob them of their health . There is no streight to bring a man to sin ; But he that 's hatch't for hell and will begin , Makes every lust beare twins : and he must share The more with grief , drink all the cup of care . A book shall lye before him , to decide All scruples , doubts , when e're his cause is try'd . He counts me foolish : so I am : I 'le say No more to him , but leave him to that day . The Pimp that hath been so gentile ; and bred Vp at a lofty rate ; he being led Vn to his ruine , seems to carry 't faire , Vntill the jawes of death , and black dispaire Doe seize upon him ; setting still his love 'Pon all that 's vile , and blasted from above . He makes himselfe unhappy ! being poore , He sels himselfe , who sold his land before . Fortune was blind indeed , to make him Pimp , And steele his face , t' attend so base an imp. Let him drink off his cup , his glasse or boule , Though he growes fat in body , his poore soule Is starv'd within him ! and he 'l find withall , His draughts are like to wormwood mixt with gall , His money and his cloaths , of which he brags , Th' one melts away , the other turns to rags . What are his morsels ? can he have them still ? He 'l sur fet with them : having once his fill , He spewes them up againe : then he shall sit At sorrowes table , but not eat a bit . The rot will take the whores , like silly sheep , Within few years ; then he shall drink so deep In that that 's worse than ratsbane , that his trust Shall die before hand , then drop down he must . As for the book , 't would gain no love from me If it did tend to please such fooles as hee , If happy gales blow on 't , it may survive When they are dead , to keep their shame alive . Nor shall my pen be silent , till this crew Shall mend , or end , and so adieu , adieu .

SECT. 58. The charge to the Muse , at the entrance into her travels . GO now , my Muse , ( although thou canst not sing Equall with those that charme the wanton spring ) Walke o're the golden hiss , the silver vales , And charme the curled groves to heare thy tales . And let the cristall brooks , the pearled streames Stay in their course , to listen to thy theames . A tree that has no sap , a vale that 's growne Barren with time , orraging floods may frowne Vpon thee in thy progresse ; never care : Thou hast my blessing , how soere thou fare . Nay , never whine , because thy fathers name Is not advanc'd upon the wings of Fame ; Thy worth is ne're the lesle : though some disdaine thee , Be not dismay'd ; the rest will entertaine thee . Beware the Critick : for his shallow braine Drops venome on his tongue : he strives to staine The best of best end evors ; never be Discouraged , though Memus carp at thee . Zoilus his checks are vaine , though envy have Against thy comming , digg'd for thee a grave , 'T is for herselfe : speake thou the truth , I charge thee ; Though malice chayne thee up , time will enlarge thee . To hatch their own disgrace , this brood do sit : They gaine the Serpents sting , but not his wit . Me thinks this might suffice ! it is my will That thou shouldst try the world , I 'le own thee still . Though churlish time o' th' suddaine , wil not praise thee , Time may grow gentle , then perhaps't will raise thee . Thy melancholy sister 's gone before : She was regarded , though she was but poore , And lam'd at going forth : she has endur'd A racking torture , she'i ere long be cur'd . She is my first borne : that doth make her boast : But thou art better drest ; I love thee most . Thy portion too is more ; much care I took To make thee fit for service : do not look To be prefer'd at home : but yet , if men Will not receive thee , come to me agen . Thou maist in time obtaine a place at Court ; Thou wilt not flatter there : some may make sport From what is merry in thee : but they will Soone change their tunes , if they have been as Ill As those which thou hast found ; but those that are Wise , sober , modest , bending still their care To serve the King of Kings : Oh! call them blest ! And let them bee as patterns to the rest . Thou need'st not doubt but divers in the City Will cloath thee in thy travels : shew thee pity In thy distresse : for thou to them shalt show Such things , as one of many ne're did know . They 'l nurse thee up ; and when they presse thee out , They 'l spread thy name upon the posts about . And if with Country gallants thou dost chuse To serve awhile , because thou bring'st them newes , They 'l bid thee welcome : thou maist find some there Which thou didst in thy Night , long search for here . Salute the Poets kindly , let them find Thou did'st not aime at them ; 't was not thy mind To staine their names : but those who with their wils Are factors to advance lusts viler ils . Never look thou for favour or releif From any Bawd , Pimp , Pander , Whore , or Theif ; They 'l hurt thee if they can , but take no care ; The gallows , or the whip will be their share , When praise is thine : their causes must be try'd . Come , never whimper , law is on thy side . Thou hast a guard of worthies ; none shall wrong Thy innocence , feare nothing , passe along . When thou do'st meet with such , who having spent Their time in sin , yet hell-ward still are bent , Strike home and spare not ; quickly settle to it : And if they' are vext , say thou art pre'st to do it . If any change their minds , their waies , their ends , Seeing the shame ; imbrace them and be friends . I know this is thy aime , ( thy mind is easd ) Though thou be angry , thou 'lt be quickly pleas'd . If thou canst keep back any from this vice , Who els might have been lost ; they 'l raise thy price Above all expectation : then thy fire Will shine , as well as warme : looke thou no higher . So , now thou hast thy Charge : and we must part : Farewell deare SMuse ! nor do's it grieve my heart , To part upon these termes . I know e're long Thou 'lt change thy Mourning to a plesant song . Let all that heare , or see thee passing by , Wish thee all good successe ! and so wish I.

FINIS .