Pleasures vision with deserts complaint, and a short dialogue of a womans properties, betweene an old man and a young. By Arthur Newman of the Middle Temple Gent

PLEASVRES VISION : WITH DESERTS COMPLAINT , AND A SHORT DIALOGVE of a Womans Properties , betweene an old Man and a Young .

BY ARTHVR NEWMAN of the Middle Temple Gent:

LONDON , Printed by G. E. for Thomas Bayly , and are to be sold at his Shop in the Middle-row in Holbourne neere Staple Inne . 1619.

TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFVLL , AND truely Worthy , Sir George Newman Knight .

I Haue aduentured this meane worke to your learned Censure , onely with a longing desire to make my loue to you legible : and I was the more incouraged , in that I knew you would read with Patience ; for I assure my selfe you will forget no Vertue . Yet since I expect for but a bewraying witnesse of mine idle houres , so great a priuiledge as your graue Patronage , I must acknowledge my selfe guilty of inexcusable presumption , that so the confession of my fault may plead for some fauour , although not altogether for pardon . I can say little for my selfe but this , that if I haue here done amisse , I promise all my endeuours for amendment hereafter . In the meane time I wish I had done better , and more for your sake , then myne owne . For I honour your worth , and account it a happinesse to preserue your Loue .

Vnfainedly yours , ARTHVR NEWMAN .

AD AMICVM suum omni laude et obseruantia dignissimum AR: NEWMAN . NOui tenerum , noui iuneuilibus annis cùm vox iucundi plena leporis erat , Et dixs de te mihi semper , Apolline cert● dignus eris : nec mens haec mihi vana fuit , Ecce Caballino sitis est nunc fonte lenata : pocula Castali●s nunc saturantur aquis , Digna trophaea feres , cingent tua tempera la●●i ●t patria est meritis grata futura tuis . PE : LOWER .

PLEASVRES VISION . WHen , in the Confines of the silent Night Refreshing Sleep seisd on each wearied wight And did , with gentle Slumbers , and soft Ease , The raging Motions of sad Care appease ; Husht were the moanes of haples wights opprest : And harmel●s thoughts were ●ill'd in pleasant Rest : Now , bad , vnquiet , and pernitious mind . Surceasd to plot their dangerous Designes : Now , st●ll'd was Strife , and troublesome Debate , And pining Enuy , now forgot to hate : And darknesse raign'd , that harmeles Sleepe might be Hid f●om the Troubles which the Light doth see : And , in the Bed whereon my selfe was laid , There , d●ou c Slumbers , for th●● Lodging staid : But me of Rest , deluding Marpheus ●eau●d ; And , in a Dreame my Senses so deceau'd That , as awak't , I saw , or seem'd to see : A perfect Man , or Gallant , one was he : But by the strangenes of his outward show He seem'd the last , and he was doubtles so . Light was his cariage , and his Gate affected , Oay his attire , and manly Shape neglected : For like a nice Dame that doth Pride affect , He with vnmanlike Curiousnesse was dect : In Nations of disguises he was clad , And euery Limbe a seuerall fashion had : And euer on himselfe he fondly gas'd , As , with the strangenesse of himselfe amas'd : And on himselfe enamoured was he , As commonly Fantastiques vse to be . His vnpremeditated words , like wind Were light , and blustring , and bewraid his minde : Vnconstant , and still wandring were his lookes , And , in his face , as in lasciuious bookes Whole Stories you of lightnesse might haue read ; For there , it wantonly inhabited , Yet he , of Natures best guifts , plenty had : And pitty 't was they were bestow'd so bad , For those saue Eyes which lewdnes so proclaim'd , Nature at first for ornament ordain'd : For she had done her part , and set him forth , With liuely Shape , and outward signes of worth , And Hope at first said , this faire seeming Inne Had no ill guests that harboured within . His lightnes was not Natures fault , ô no , It was his mind that those parts sniut'd so : Then Nature , since thy bounty wrong'd hath beene , In such againe let it no more be seene . His youthfull yeares did flowrish in their prime ; And lusty health , chear'd vp his lookes : and Time On his vntamed will did seeme t' attend , As though to him a Seruant , and a friend . Swift Time , that it might be by him well vs'd , Oft shew'd , that where it idly was abus'd , There it must vanish , and pe're come againe , But oft be call'd , and cride for backe , in vaine : And Fortune looking on him , smooth'd her Brow , And plai'd the Prodigall that he might know She hath no bounds to limit her great power , But where she smiles , she cloies ; yet if she lower , Then , acts a Misery beyond beliefe : And as the fills with ioy , so kills with griefe . Then Beauties deckt with Nature , and with Art , Did all their sweets to his desires impart , They freely opened to compleate his pleasure , Their all-alluring , and commanding treasure . Some had such tempting lookes , and Angell-features , That , but I saw their frailty , heauenly Creatures I them had deem'd : they power had to allure ( Without great prouidence ) holy , and pure . And sure there is no man ( as I belieue ) That can behold such erre but he must grieue . Others there were , and of an other kind Which also fancied his lustfull mind . Some meanely faire , some foule , others their feature With Art did helpe , in spight , and scorne of Nature . With those he wanton'd for variety ; ( For all , insatiable Lust must try . ) Thus slept he in this Dreame of false delight , Still acting shamefull deeds , of shameles Night ; And wasting Plenty , as with Spoyle compounded In lauishing , and all Excesse abounded : Banquets were Surfeits , and were nere without Healths of abused Wine still quaft about . He in the spoyle of honest thrift did slow ; And none ( alas ) said , this should not be so His Eares were slopt when was blam'd by Fame , And some to adde more fuell to his flame Falsly protested , pitty 't was that he Might not some King , or mighty Monarch be : And to such height his bounty did aduance , " That he to his owne musicke seem'd to dance . None there distinguisht Liberality From all-consuming Prodigality : For pledges of their loue , they smooth words pawn'd , And iust like dirty dogges vpon him fawn'd , That leaue no loue signe but offensiue Mire . Others there were , to humor his desire , That still with new-found Sports his fancy fed , And him from pleasure vnto pleasure led , They had the Art , and onely trickes to stray With all deuises tending to decay . And , what he lik't , or loathed , none gainsaid , But good , or bad , his will was still obaid , Base seruile minds euen ouer humor'd him , Whilst he in Seas of fleeting ioyes did swim . The vncontrolled life he did commend , And dearest deem'd his numor-feeding friend : And still , Vice-punishing Authority , He , ( outlaw-like ) would slight ; and brauing try Desperate Exploits ; to shew he nought did feare , Nor yet his humor could , or would forbeare . And such as he was , were his company , That ready alwaies were for Villany . No care , or griefe did harbour neare his heart , No crosse did from his Iollity him part . No want of Pleasure , Liberty , or Fase Did his contentments any way displease ; For , all delights which might each Sense content , By Vanity her selfe to him were lent . But ah , extreames can ne're indure , and Meate That is most sweet with sowrest Sauce we eate : For , in a moment all this vanished , And he himselfe stood strangely altered : For , where as once he seem'd a blooming Spring , O're-filld with plenty of each pleasing thing : Now feeble Age , and now disdained want , Seem'd in his lookes their dwelling seates to plant . His Eies waxt hollow , lookes leane , cold his heates , And cate had folded vp his browes in pleates , He rent his haire , his face hee bath'd in teares , For pretious Time mispent in youthfull yeares : And , as chiefe Cause of his misery , On pleasures past exclaimed bitterly : For calling them to mind , he ten times more Did execiate his Fortune , then before . Many past by , and laught his woes to scorne : And some did patty , seeing him for forlorne . Yet , former friends , but like his shaddow were That follow'd him in Sun-shine euery where ; But , when a Storme of Trouble commeth on , They soone fall off ; and like to shades are gone : Yea , each thing else , that he esteemed deare , But to augment his anguish did appeare . And , all the flatt'ring Hopes he erst possest , Forsooke him quite , and he was quite distrest . These alterations seem'd to me so strange , That I inquir'd the Cause of all this change . Whereat his heauy Eies on me he bent , Through streames of Teares , made thick with languishment , And , bid me lend his words attentiue eare , That in my heart I might them better beare . I silent was ; when , loe , this ruthfull Man , With Sighs , and Sobs his speaches thus began . In prime of lusty head , when youthfull Spleene , Had ne're the wiles and guiles of Pleasure seene . Not dreampt , how pretious is swift winged Time , Which , as it flees , our Fortunes fall , and climbe : Nor yet , by othe charmes once taking heed , But wild delights did wandring Senses feed : Then , my vaine will vntam'd , vntutored , Left Reasons Rule , and roau'd as fancy led : Like to a lost Sheepe , from his Shepheard straid , Running to wracke without his Keepers aid . I ne're my owne affections did controule , For they commanded all within my Soule : Not I regarded future good , or ill , Nor had of Pleasure till my fall , my fill . I did amisse ; and now with griefe may say , Onely for that , I threw my selfe away : Yet blinded , no familiar dangers knew , That waited on me ; nor till I did rew , Percen●'d that woe on pleasure did attend , Which contraries , ( too oft ) in one doe end . O! so my thoughts with pleasures spells were charm'd , That they ore came me gainst their force vnarm'd : For which , nought but Repentance yeelds reliefe , And yet ( alas ) that adds but griefe to griefe : Yet griefe for gracelesnesse doth much relieue , Because we ought for gracelesnesse to grieue . Friends I obai'd not , therefore they me leaue , Pleasure I follow'd , that did me deceaue : Fortune , and Time once gently on me smil'd , I then mistaking both , my selfe beguild , I Time mispent , and Fortune did neglect , Therefore with cause they doe me now reiect . I made the meanes , ( for my good onely ) lent , By lauishing , of woe the Instrument . And then braue Prodigall Vice stil'd my name , Now therefore , Ruine , and the Map of shame : And wherein I my selfe thought most secure , I 'me therein for myne Error most vnsure . If man himselfe can promise ought ; 't is this , That what he aimes at most , he most shall misse , For worldly certainty is but althought , And so it vanisheth , and turnes to nought . O! of all Creatures breathing vitall Aire , Man , of his wauering fate may most despaire : For , there 's no danger , misery , nor Care , But therein destin'd is to him a share . And his best earthly blisse no longer lasts , Then Vapors doe , in whirling windy blasts : If rich , or poore , a Begger , or a King , His Rose hath prickes , his honey hath a Sting : His comick-mirth is mixt with tragicke woes , And Ebbs insue when most he ouerfloes : He like the Moone may not at full remaine , But ( like her ) changing still , must wax , and waine ; He , onely he , is nought but fortunes sport , The spoyle of Time , and place where Cares resort , The plant that 'midst great heate , and moisture grow'th , Now greene , now parcht , now at a stay , 'twixt both . The very wheele which Fortune turneth still Is Man ; for him she turnes which way she will : He seemes of Change a Character , or Map ; Or what is still most subiect to mishap . Or like a Ship , whose Pilot wanting skill , ( Though far from Rockes ) in doubt , and danger still : For here and there the Fortunes of Man kind , Are blowne , and tost like Ships in storming wind : What 's past and present is the most that can By all allowed Art be knowne by Man : But , what insuing Fate may or will be , Till past preuention he can neuer see ; Nor yet know when , or where good hap , or ill May raise , or cast him to the Dale , or Hill He can but guesse at most , and who doth so , He nothing truly , but by guesse shall know . For what of him the Destinies decree , Because hee 's Man , vnknowne must euer be , Then let not him presume that 's fortunate , Since still vncertaine is his doubtfull state . Since Pleasures Syrens are , that Ruine sing ; Since Fortunes great doe great misfortunes bring ; Since there 's no Earthly welfare or delight , That with the Morne doth rise , but sets er'e Night . And why through dangers , restles cares , and paine , Should man attempt fraile honors to obtaine ? When got , his puft-vp thoughts so vainely range , That , what they are , and ô ! how soone they change , He cannot thinke ▪ for with a thought they vary , So , hopes to hold those haps which cannot tarry . And who sees not , that to none other end Fortune doth oft to Man her f●uours lend , But , on poore him her Tiranny to try , And laugh to see him for her liue , and dye . For , when in greatest height of best delight , In thought secure , in honors shining bright ; When rockt , and lul'd in Pleasures charming lap , Scorning to thinke that ought can breed mishap , Fortune , to shew her euer-changing power , Turnes in a Moment , all his sweet to sower , And from those destin'd Ills , ô how shall he Poore se●uile bondman manumised be ? To whom shall he appeale ? or who hath power ? I' st angry Heauen ? Fates ? Starres ? or some thing lower ? Yea , 't is himselfe ; for he was fram'd by Ioue , To be all other Creatu●es far aboue , Next to his euer-great all seeing Maker , Of wisdome , and safe prouidence partaker . But he as subiect to his straying will , Enbracing that for good , which tride is ill , And weighing not how fraile a thing is man , Not yet for eseeing what Chance hourely can , Forgets himselfe , and without meane , or measure , Wakes to wast I me , yet dreames on nought but pleasure , And , with his faults so partially doth beate , That vntill ruin'd , cannot Ruine feare . He dreads no fire vntill he feele it burne , Till whipt with his owne Rods doth neuer turne , Then his misdeeds , and then his Time mispent , With too late penitence he doth lament . Thus vnaduiled Neghgence doth bring Him to be Sorrones helples vnderling . Thus to himselfe he proues a traiterous foe , And Vipe : like is Mother of his woe : For , in his brest hes many a thought , and deed , That comming forth , doe his destruction breed ; And man , as fearing he should scanted be Of his forbid destes , so eagerly Doth all then mottall baites ingurgitate , Whe therewith should ne're be satiate . 〈◊〉 being once to tunne amisse inclin'd , H●● tau●●s he fees not , selfe will makes him blind , And leades him headlong vnto cursed ends , E●e he can thinke what danger him attends : And now , youth's heedlesse and vnbridled rage , And euen some of greene and tender Age . Vn●cemingly can vaunt how they will drinke , Quaffe , and carouse ; and those themselues doe linke With men debauth'd , vile , lauith , and prophane , Which worke their owne , and their Associates bane : Which , like diseases , doe Society Corrupt with their infectious Company : Which daily on the vtter Ruine feed Of rash youth , which haue neither head nor heed : And those things which for Comforts we should vse , Lake wretches , they vnthankefully abuse , For shame , for pitty , for your selues forbeare , And ●●●ingsters sly their haunts ; the Plague is there . Then harmes , are by Examples still reueal'd , To ●●e we see permits them not conceal'd : That we may notice take , and safely shun , The dangers which so many haue vndone . But now our Corne is ouer growne with weed , And men euen striue who may in vice exceed . The truest badge of a true Gallants will , Is to be dating in attempting Ill. They must not seeme their Vaniues to hide , But mount the Pitch where most they may be spide : I or they are growne to such a monstrous height , In all they euen glory to delight . They with braue outward shews much basenesse hide , And fly aloft with wings of towring pride : They rage ; and quench with blood hot Angers fires , And coole with Sin their heate of lewd desires , Or lewd ●●●es , begot of Fancies foule , That tune health , and wealth , and wit , and Soule . Ins●●●ou● to themselues , Sinnes very lees , And po●soned sweetes , stolne from forbidden Trees , The fearefull acts of blacke and shamelesse Night , Honey for Drones , for D●uells the delight , And we ( too true ) doe by Experience see , That great and small by them still ruin'd be . It is not powe , or golden Vanity , Still blinding I une , or maskt Hypocrisie , Or making Iustice from her limns stray Can s●l●e these crimes , or wash then spots away 'T were Sin to thinke so for the end it tues , When the rewards of Vice are miseries , For come ( and none how soone know ) must the time , When knowne and pun●●● shall be euery Cain . And those sweet Sins which did the Sense delight , Shall then their Fosterers with woe , requite . The fruit that we by Pleasures past shall gaine , Will be soone s●e●●●ng ioyes , for lasting paine : O● all that we shall gaine , will be but this , And remembrance , that we did amisse , For tell you ●ail●m●s , chaim'd with vanity , And haples wretches with the memory To●●●d of woe , and vengeance-crying in s ; What haue you got ? the cheating Diuell wins , And staling downe but counte●se●ted pleasure , You to gaine that , doe lose the pricelesse treasure Of all your grace , your liberty , and bl●●le , And he gets by your wo●ll folly this . O● 〈◊〉 vnto your selues , for your owne sake , For iust accompt you for your selue ●●st make . Recall your thoughts , each fond desire s●●ey , And their fraile motions euer disobey : M●pend not Time , and spoyle not stower of youth , Belieue not Pleasure , though her words seeme●●th . Due●● your Steps into none other Tract . But such as Ve tue treds in shew and act . That way is safe , and neuer leads amisse , But crownes your Iournies end with endles blisse . There are no Traps , there none will you betray , No Wolues on haimeles Iambes there dare to prey . Your Guidresse here , whilst you with her doe goe , Warrants your safety 'gainst your greatest Foe : And no deuice can make her false to those , Which confidence in her defence repose . What she doth game , whilst you with her doe liue , The profit freely she to you will giue : She will your Cause 'gainst all the world maintaine And neuer shame you : but you friends shall gaine Of all good Men ; and such as run astray Sha l curse the Time , they follow'd not your way And of your goodnesse , to Posterity , When dead , you leaue shall happy memory . Next doe not Parents wary Counsell slight , Nor make not of t●ue friends aduisings light : Faults which you see not , nor of them be told By your Companions , they with griefe behold , And oft what deere expetience them hath bought , You may both heare , and learne , and shun for nought . And then , least like a muddy poole that standeth still , Filth selfe your body , and corrupt your will , In some good action euer busied be , So ne're corrupting Idlenesse shall see A banefull Oportunity , to draw Your weakenes to infringe the sacred Law Of heauenly Vertue , whom the Gods must right , Maugre all-horrid Hell's infernall might . And be of Company most circumspect , That you may good in brace , and bad reiect : That with good liquor , your new Vessells may At first be fill'd , that still a tast may stay , Lest that the Bud in comming forth be blasted , And so the fruit be all vntimely wasted . Then your minds forces muster , Sin to foile , Proclaime Defiance , Peace with it is spoile : If you want aid , and dare not breake the Truce , Vertue will help to ruine Times abuse : And Vice , flee , when Vertue doth appeare , Like Thieues , that punishment of Iustice feare . O , thinke on this , and know that if you fight With Vice , by Vertue , till you kill it quite , Celestiall Blisse your Victory shall crowne , And trecherous Vice , with Ruine shall come downe . For Time will all destroy that Time mispend , Then weigh your follies , and in time amend . A Sigh here stopt the passage of his breath , Whilst in his lookes appeared meagre death : And as an outward Signe of inward woe , He smote his Brest , while Teares did ouerfloe , Then seem'd his lookes , and lift-vp hands to say , Take heed by me , so vanisht he away . Whereat such passion did assaile my heart , That I from Sleepe , amazed , vp did start . But what this Dreame pre●ag'd I could not guesse , Or if I could , I cannot well expresse : For vari●us thoughts , had Arguments so many , That I ●nf●unded , vnderstood not any . Till , after , viewing Londons stately Streets , Wherein the Streame of Vanity still fleets ; And swiftly runs away , as hauing beene Ne're there at all ; that more may still be seene . Then , what I sleeping did but seeme to see , There , there , I waking found too true to be . FINIS .

DESERTS COMPLAINT . LAte , wandting by a Valley side , Where weeping Streames did sadly glide , Sith Soll●● bright Raies could not appeare , The place , or ought therein to cheare , I saw clad in a mourning Weed A Man whose griefes , my griefe did breed . For Desa t desert there ( alas ) Vpon his Brow ingrauen was , And coldly on cold Earth he lay Like some fra●'d picture of Decay . Or like an ancient Monument , Which was erected , to preuent Th' obliuion of some noble fact : Which , some dead Worthy once did act ; And being ruin'd , would inforce All the spectators with remorce To breath forth helples sighes ; and then To r●ile on Time , and check those men That let Decay to disinherit True Worth of what it had by Merit . Thus did he lye , and like a Swan Dying , to ease his h●●t began In sad laments to sing his woe , And thus he sighing on did goe . Where shall I runne ? where shall I fly ? Where shall my plaints find remedy ? Where are mine ancient friends ? and where My followers that held me deare ? Where may my now-lost honors be ? Where is the Time that fauour'd me ? And where and how , and what am I That in this wretched State here lye ? Of former ●oyes am I not reft ? And of the careles World quite left ? Are not my followers distrest , Di●dain'd , dispis'd , poore , and opprest ? Are not my chiefest friends all dead ? Are not many honors from me fled ? And is not strangely Time disguis'd ? O yes , for by it ●●me despis'd . I am an out-cast , and dejected , And see with griefe my Rites neglected : And many doe vsurpe my place Which me , themselues , and it deface , And vnto such , I plainely see , The world doth giue what 's due to me , If men dispise , and slight me so , I cannot thinke where I may goe . And what to doe , I know not , I , Vnlesse , I cease to be ; and dye . I am not franticke , for I know By sad Experience of my woe , My haplesse words are too too true . Which they I feare too soone will rue , If to the Country I retire , There dull and earthly minds require Houses , and Acres , by which now Desert is measur'd , therefore how Can I , whom Fate hath seem'd t'ordaine , This Reputations want to plaine , And all fraile outwards but to slight , Of them craue fauour , much lesse right ? Of my Complaints , and wrongs appease , Since dull-besotting Error these Doth so much blind , that they scarse see The odds betweene the Droane and Bee ? And yet , if good on Earth doe dwell 'T is in a simple rustickes Cell . But let me wander in the Citty , O! both to her , and gentle pitty , I am a stranger , and find none To entertaine me ; but alone I through her babling streets doe passe , That cry , What lacke ye ? when ( alasse ) Though I what she hath lacke , and she Be poore in what abounds in me , And each might other gladly pleasure , For each doth want the others treasure : Yet she , ( as 't is the vse ) affecting Onely her selfe ; and me respecting But like vnto commodities Not vendable ; am of no price . Thus her wise Ignorance doth slight me : And ne're , I feare , will learne to right me . And when the stately Court I view , Whose glitting , and whose sun-like hew Dazles the Eyes of euery Wight That wants a Princelike Eagles sight ; There I lye clouded , and this brightnesse May not reflex on me it's lightnesse . I am obscure , and was not taught To sooth , or by him to be laught , Th●t sees me striue to gaine esteeme , And not to be what I would seeme . I cannot brauing looke , and be One , into whom could men but see , They might all basenesse there behold , Yet those , then Impudence more bold , Can looke , and vildely will assume To them great matters ; and presume , When all their Fortunes doe depend On others , and with others end . Yet sometimes in the Court I liue , But want , and therefore none will giue . From hence , if to the Campe I goe , There 's nothing now for me to doe . For iusly Peace , although it please , And in the end must Warre appease , Yet so it iniures Armes and me , That to my face , and griefe I see The Campe 's a Market place , or Faire , Where all to buy and sell , repaire . Desert gets nothing , not a friend That might , as 't is the fashion , send A letter of Commends to any , That without me , preferreth many . Thus all my friends , I feare will fly me , Sith , now they get so little by me . Yet since the Campe , Court , Countrey , Citty , Will not my case , I theirs doe pitty . O! I so poore , and meane am deem'd , With few I liue , of few esteem'd : I had a Time , but now ( alasse ) I can but boast that once I was . O! once I was , now to my griefe , I cannot be , I want reliefe . Yet once I ioyd a States-mans Seate , And such men onely I , made great . And ô how bright shin'd then their Fame , Which , well agreed with place and name : For then without Desert not any Could rise ; though now I feare too many . When Fathers by my helpe had wonne , Honor , and Fame : yet if the Sonne , Did onely house , and name inherit , And by Desert did nothing merit , Those illegitmate were deem'd , And for their greatnesse lesse esteem'd . T was not , ( ô happy then ) as now When a vild i'easant for the Plow , And nought else fit , yoakes thee Desert , And seruile makes which free borne wert . For his blind earthy mind can see No happinesse more , then to be Blest , ( as he thinkes ) with pretious gold , For which he findes is bought and sold All honors , titles , all Earths blisses , Which are the period of his wishes . But for the high Contents of mind , Their Heauen , his grosenesse cannot finde : Yet this is he whom most men hold The wisest m●n ; a man worth gold . This must Authority possesse , That others faults he may redresse , But knowes not how : and why should he Blind in his owne , anothers see ? Alasse he doth vsurp his place , And all the Rues thereof deface : But , sith by me , men should obtaine it , If they without me might not gaine it , Then reason would force some to proue me , And prouing , all would better loue me . Besides , preferments would attend On me that I might be the end , Whereat Mens wronged thoughts might aime ; And so a world of faults reclaime . For I ne're vndertooke that thing That fail'd a blest reward to bring ; Though now to ill , by Times blind Error The good is turn'd for all Times terror . Ah , once without me none aspir'd , For I in greatnes was requir'd ; Which as it sti●●ed me to gaine , So downe on it the Heauens did raine Showers of honor , that still greene , I ●a●rant , and growing it was seene : And then all such as me neglected Could neuer ri e but were defected . But then I was so lou'd , that he Was happy , which could follow me . Sometimes my Studies were deuine , Wherein deepe knowledge made me shine . I was a Shepheard , and did keepe Free from the Fox and Wolfe my Sheepe : But now my Flocke is lur'd from me , And Droanes sucke honey from the Bee . Parnassus Mount I did frequent , And with the sacred Muses spent Labour , and Time : they kind , and free From their owne selues did giue to me . But they their blest guifts , so deuin'd , That onely they inricht the mind . And poore my Body was ; and when I sought reliefe for it of men , My wants were laught at , made a scorne , And I , in my distresse forlorne . And still I saw , and wept to see How Fortune alwaies ran from me , Who , with much Care and Labour , sought her , Whilst those that for her look'd not , caught her . O 't is decreed , for such is Fate , And such a Schollers iniur'd state . I tedious Trauells did indure , To make my vnderstanding sure , And others woes haue seene and knowne , That I might better shun mine owne : Yea , forraigne Tongues and manners gain'd , And deare Experience I obtain'd ; Yet , home-spun Clownes before me farre , By Times abuse preferred are . When I returne from bloody warres , With feebled Limbes , with wounds , and scarres , Which , for but Truth , and Honors sake , My prime of yeares did vndertake . Yet if with odious want distrest , So slighted , and so vnredrest , It thousands would inforce to sweare , Desert must out of fashion weare : And out of fashion , who 'le respect it ? All will for fashions sake neglect it : This Age is blind , it cannot see The sweet Content ●●e● hid in me . It thinkes not how my Seruants haue , Which follow'd me , now dead in Graue , Still liuing honors , and lou'd Fame , That both Posterity and name Crownes with Obseruance and regard , Such is Deserts allow'd Reward . But Tune and Error now contend , My Dues and Rights from me to rend : Preferment now from me is fled , Which me as Husband once did wed , And would not lend a glance to any But onely Me ▪ yet now to many So common , like base Strumpets growne That all for Coyne make them the●● owne . And still-sought Oportunity , My once preuailing friend , ô why Dost thou of help and fauour reaue me , And me in my distresse thus leaue me ? I ne're did thee neglect , or euer Did thee from my Achiuements seuer : But begg'd thy happy aid . But sure Corruption now doth thee allure . Thus am I wrong'd , disgrac'd , defam'd , And yet the world is not asham'd To see how most vniustly I The aime am made of iniury . Yet I ne're sham'd , or wrongd this Land , But for her honors firme doe stand : I ne're did seeke to wast her store , But was the meane to make it more . I ne're was false , fond , or vniust , I ne're with selfe-consuming Lust , Was to my Country blot , or staine , Nor Fame on me had cause to plaine . No mifchiefe I did act , or plot , And States abuser I am not : No Innocent I ere accus'd , And no iniustice euer vs'd . I ne're with bribes was hir'd , or bought , Not I Authority e're brought Desertlesly to least disgrace , By wronging her most sacred place . Nor am I plague of State , or power , And yet my Starres on me doe lower . I no blaspheming Roarer was , No Bruers beast , good-fellow-Asse . No bragadochio-brauing-Mate , No Swasher , no Repent-too-late : No griefe of Reason , Ape of pride , No shadow , but a substance tride . O! I was neuer ought that 's vile , Nor any euer did beguile . I was plaine-dealing , and did fly All causes of indignity : I was not pitch that still defiles The toucher , I was free from guiles . My followers yet could neuer say , I lead them wrong , or to decay . Yet at the lowest Ebbe am I Of Want , and scorned misery . O! t is my Fate , I may not thriue , Or bring home honey to the hiue . And why ? I am not eminent , Nor Princes Palaces frequent : Nor am I complementall matter , But hate to temporise and flatter . I am not like the Apes of Time , That often for a downefall climbe ; I rest content , and striue t' auoid Ambition , that is still imploid In her owne ruine ; and doth gaine Nothing but trouble for her paine . For shadowes I doe neuer striue , But am alasse too good to thriue . I cosen none , nor haue deceits , Nor can I fish with golden baites : With golden baites , that too too much Insnare all those , that them but touch . And right , or wrong are sought for , when They draw like Loadstones Iron-men , They doe corrupt , and alwaies where Man goes , he findes Corruption there : For wer't not so ; and if exil'd Were fauour , that alasse doth shield Desertlesse Vpstarts ; onely rais'd That greatnesse might not still be prais'd ; Then well-deseruers well regarded Would be ; the ill , as ill rewarded . And men in nought , but doing well Would striue each other to excell , And in mine ancient honors I Should be install'd , and mount on high , I Time ob'curely should not spend , But whom I serue should me attend , And Ignorance should neuer bring Desert to be her Vnderstanding : Her vnderling that stan●eth low , Lake obscure Shrubs ; yet when winds blow Are ●afe , whilest euery stormy gale Shakes lofty Cedars till they fall . Then Worldlings come , and loue , and try , My blisse : I giue se●urity To all my Creditors ; that neuer Desert shall faile , till Time disseuer Iustice , and ●an : and Wisdome power Wants ; while the Heauens for it lower . And thou Occasion g aunt thus much , I may no more thy baldnesse touch ; O let me come before , that I May but thy lucky fore-locke spy , And I 'le catch at it fast ; if not ( As now ) let me be still forgot . And come you mentall Vertues all Saue me , lest you your selues doe fall ▪ You are defended , you reuiue Onely , by keeping me aliue . And ALBION to thee I cry , Saue me for thy necessity . And Greatnesse doe thou fauour me , Then I againe my friends shall see . Thou m●k'st , or marr'st , then grace me so , That I for thee may greater grow : But if thou slightst me , and deny To doe me right ; know I must dye , That all the Land may mourne for me , That , seruilizd , first made it free . Thus said , and being not imploid In ought , that might dead Sleepe avoid Forthwith a Drousie slumber sei'd His senses , and his moanes appeas'd , And , as of Mans society The slighted outcast he did lye . When , loc , a Virgin did arise From Earth ; whom neuer mortall Eies Beheld ; or was by memory Recorded , to be noted by : Thought knew her not , she could be found No where , till now , but vnder ground . OBLIVION was her dismall name , Whom all the World may iustly blame : For , soone she laid ( ô dire mishap ! ) Desert vpon her fable lap . There she ( alasse ) in silent sleep Him from the blinded world doth keep . Put stay , awake , awake Desert ! We cannot say thou onely wert . We dare not thinke so , and much lesse , Belieue we are in such distresse : Except we with conceipt would all Despaire , and hopelesse with thee fall . But aged Heauens in their care To vs and thee more gratious are : For thou art not of all friends rest , Nor maist thou of thy friends be left . He that the Scepter of this land Doth sway , and nought but right command , Hath place , and being for thee ; where He thee and thine expects ; and there Thy followers are onely plac'd : And onely by him for thee grac'd . And though some shamelesse doe intrude , Which neuer were with thee indude ; Know that the glorious Sunne displaies On all things his reuiuing Raies : And to each Creature which doth liue , He the best nourishment doth giue , He shines vpon the sweetest flowers , Which flourish in the choisest bowers : Yet he alasse , can shine no where , But lurking weeds will start vp there . Thou then Desert art not forlorne , Though weeds sometimes o'regrowne the Corne . FINIS .

A DIALOGVE of a womans Properties , betweene an old man and a young . Old Man . IF gray Experience may deserue beliefe , I le tell what Women are ; ( although with griefe . ) They and their beauties are so vaine and fraile , That with their dearest friends they most doe faile . And their quaint Trickes doe so our Iudgements blind , Their guiles we neuer see , yet euer finde . Young Man . Must you so hardly ●gainst faire women speake , Because ( alasse ) then gentle sex is weake , ●eele not then frath●es burden they , vnlesse We 〈◊〉 ph●●d with their vnhappinesse ? And though they haue some poore shifts , men haue many : And too much would deceaue them without any . Old Man . Woman to shew , what she would be , at first Made by her frailty , all the world accurst . And that by her ( sure us by Fate concluded ) Man shal be euer , as at first , deluded . Then would all seeming Heauen , d●d but allot That onely man might be , and woman not . Young Man . For what she did , grieue more , then blame . Alasse , His fatall subtilty , by which she was Vnhappily beguil'd was such , that she By it , if man by her , soone guil'd might be . Yet Heauen this priuiledge doth women giue , The world without them stands not , nor men liue . Old Man . Yea , woman still remaines our fatall curse , And will all Vanities for euer nurse : She rebell is to reason ; yet in wiles So witty , that she wisest men beguiles , For she is such a strange bewitching thing Man must her honey haue , though with 't a sting . Young Man . To be our helpes they are , and we doe finde , Beauty hath made them louely , Nature kinde ; And Vertue being female cannot chuse But sa●red guift● in her owne Sex infuse : And their faults cannot be so much their owne , As tempting mans , if all were rightly knowne . Old Man . To gaine their owne wils , pleas●ngly they flatter , To gather loose loue , they light lookes can scatter : O ▪ they to ruine sweetly can allure , And are as lustfull , as in loue vnsure . To where may n●w Penelope be found , That chast was tempted : she is vnder ground . Young Man . She was ; and being gone , we still haue new Which are , dispight all false seducements , true . And know this pretty family of Loue Are in affection as the turtle Doue . Neuer alone , but with vs , and about vs , And out of question dye they would without vs . Old Man . They sport , and toy , dissemble , craue , and faine : Then frowne , then rage , then hate , and then disdaine . And can seeme kinde , where most vnkind they proue ; Yet seld or neuer know whom best they loue : For though they chance with their owne choice to wed , Yet , Venus must haue Mars in Vulcans Bed . Yong Man . ●●●ld they we e ●●inty , or remorcelesse , then They ne●●● would vnder●●e the wrongs of men . N●● le● th●●● 〈◊〉 be in●●●ed by those , In whom th●● con●idence , and tru●● repose . But they 〈…〉 , and are so kind 〈◊〉 ●●sily th●●e yeelding soules doe blind . Old Man . 〈◊〉 they ●●inded are , and ne're will ●ee 〈…〉 lo●●●n●sse be : 〈…〉 ●eason ●ind 〈…〉 them 〈◊〉 rotten find , And yet 〈…〉 inchanting features , Th●● 〈…〉 them . O b●witching creature . Young Man . How we , sith they the weaker Vessels are , To tirannize no forged slanders spare . And yet ( so charitable is their loue ) They cannot from vs their affections moue . Then leaue , if not for shame , for pitty , thus To wrong them , if they erre , it is for vs . Old Man . Although they seeme vs onely to affect , 'T is their content , not ours , that they respect : They for their owne ends cunningly can fine , And though they hau 't by natu e , yet thei le straine . Sure if on Faith by wiles gain'd might be blisse , Straight that I were a woman I would wish . Yong Man . Alasse from subtilty so farre they are That me● 〈◊〉 easily ) doe them insnare : And i● the● wi●● haue ; we too often see , They but ●hei● gentle selues to cosen be . But they would all be spotlesse , did men leaue Their pittying hearts with fal●ehood to deceaue . Old Man . They are so fond , that being flatter'd , will C●●●ent to t●ei● owne Infamy and ill , And ●●rets vn●dui●edly reuea●e , And not so much as then ow●● thoughts conceale . Yet they though ●●●ttings ●oe beguile them still , Thei● flatterers make ●ooles , and euer will . Young Man . When men faire speeches vse , but to deceaue , Wise women them of their intents bereaue : And those which nought suspect , they doe insnare , And such still wrong'd for well-belieuing are . Yet men so shamelesse be , that for the same Whereof themselues are cause ; they women blame . Old Man . Women , when as they list , denialls haue ; Yea oft when to betray themselues they craue . For where 's the Phoe●i● , or the sable Swan , Mirror of women , wonder vnto Man , But change of pasture greedy is to try , And of stolne Sin , craues still Variety . Young Man . Sith thou are wither'd , and thy blood is cold , And hast no priuiledge to loue , being old , Thy doating weakenes enuies those that may , Allow'd by youth , with louely Venus play . But do not hinder them of licenc'd Time , Since 't is but short , and naturall the Crime . Old Man . How counterfeit delights doe blind the Sense Of such as da●e with Folly to dispence ! Ah I doe know , which would I neuer had Women are all , ( I feare to say how ) bad . What iustly men deserue that them belieue ; The very thought thereof doth make me grieue . Young Man . Speake on ; and if their tempted faults be knowne To be lesse mans prouoking then their owne ; I●le yeeld : ●nd euen blame them cause I see They so full of delight , and beauty be . And all aduantage of their weakenesse take ; But then my selfe hard hearted I must make . Old Man . Like Crocodiles they moue destroying pitty ; They tune like Syrens a sweet banefull ditty : And are forgetfully of some commended , Onely with their loose frailty to be friended . And their lasciuious sex haue carefull beene But in this onely , to commit vnscene . Young Man . Sith thou art wither●d , and thy blood is cold , And hast no priuiledge to loue , being old , Thy doating weakenes enuies those that may , Allow'd by youth , with louely Venus play . But do not hinder them of licenc'd Time , Since 't is but short , and naturall the Crime . Old Man . How counterfeit delights doe blind the Sense Of such as dare with Folly to dispence ! Ah I doe know , which would I neuer had Women are all , ( I feare to say how ) bad . What iustly men deserue that them belieue ; The very thought thereof doth make me grieue . Young Man . Speake on ; and if their tempted faults be knowne To be lesse mans prouoking then their owne ; I le yeeld : and euen blame them cause I see They so full of delight , and beauty be . And all aduantage of their weakenesse take ; But then my selfe hard hearted I must make . Old Man . Like Crocodiles they moue destroying pitty : They tune like Syrens a sweet banefull ditty : And are forgetfully of some commended , Onely with their loose frailty to be friended . And there lasciuious sex haue carefull beene But in this onely , to commit vnseene . Young Man . If that some one of them doe tread awry ; Must all be naught ? ô iudge it Charity . But since man-kind is subiect to be tempted , Then from this Crosse they cannot be exempted . Yet oftentimes , ( such abstinence they haue ) They can refuse , what in their hearts they craue . Old Man . Thou art a woman sure disguis'd ; if not , Nature that thou should est be one did allot : And then some Hagge , that once , one man might be That spake of women well , hath thus chang'd thee . Else when for such knowne mischiefes I them blame , Thou ne're wouldst speak , but hold thy peace for shame Young Man . All know ( vnsufferable Man ) they are For beauty and delight beyond compare . For conference so full of pleasing wit , For vse so necessary , and so fit , That man without them , can by no meanes be , Nor euer will , if he be rul'd by me . Old Man . Nay sure these necessary harmes were fram'd That man , as too too heedlesse might be blam'd . His weaknesse cannot greatest weaknesse fly , In her strong-drawing fraile society . Then happy they , that know what women are , But happier , which to know them neuer care . Young Man . Old Father , I le no more with thee contend , But must confesse , as we , so they offend . Many of them are good , and many ill , Yet all in this erre , all must haue their will . But for your part , doe you the strife here end , And for my pray I 'le pray they may amend . FINIS .

TO MY WORthy , and ingenious Friend , Mr. Arthur Newman , on his fore-sayd Booke . NEWMAN , to praise thee to thy face , were not Friendship , but flattery . T' auoyde which Blot , My tardy Verse is placed at the end Of all thy Booke : ( as if I did commend Thee dead , or absent . ) Yet , if this my Verse Had come Before , not Ouer-tâne the Presse , I had hung ( such is thy prouoking wort● ) My Bayes vp , with the rest , to set thee ●●rth . For , this I prophecy : Thine early Fame Shall ( oldly ) proue as New , as ( now ) thy Name . Ad Eundem . QVisque Nouo , Veteri nullus blanditur amico , Te ( mihi qui Nouus es nomine , fronte simul ) Miror , et inuideo . Tibi non ( hoc ) blandior ipse : Cum sic inuidiâ Carmina digna tua . G. Parre , in Art: Mag. Ox :